#leaving me PINING for your wit

[frostbitebakery]

On this day 7 years ago I followed you. Happy 7th friendiversary!! Love you!! 🤗❤️

S e v e n years!!! Time is not real.

I’m drinking out of a Turner glass for the occasion 💜

To seventy more, my friend 💜💜💜 Here is your treat!

[indecisivemuch]

Look at me

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: Being oblivious to Luke’s feelings, you tried to get over him by getting a boyfriend, who just does not know how to treat you right. Inspired by the song ‘Boyfriend’ by Dove Cameron ~ “I could be a better boyfriend than him.” (jealous luke, friends-to-lovers, fluff, angst, pining, happy ending.)

Warning: Just the boyfriend being an asshole and unwanted physical touch for a split second, but nothing serious. Sorry if your name is Cole. Violence (physical fighting)

Note: I’m sorry if there are a lot of errors, I haven’t had the chance to edit this thoroughly so if it feels like a train wreck, then I'm sorry. I just needed to write this out, get it out there, so I can go back to revising for my exams in peace lol, cause this plot/idea has been at the back of my head, I could not stop thinking about it or study properly. Lowkey hated how this one turned out, but whoops.

Word count: 4.8k

“People say that eyes are the windows to one's soul,” you once told him. You two have been best friends for a very long time: five years of being attached to the hip. Yet, you were completely oblivious to the way he looked at you. Even everybody at camp noticed and thought it was bound to happen. They were so sure that Luke and you would end up together. So imagine everybody’s surprise when something else occurred.

It happened right in front of Luke: Cole - a boy from Cabin 5 and son of Ares - asked you out, and you said yes.

It has been two months since that day. All Luke could do was sulk as he watched his best friend slip away. Of course, you still tried to spend as much time as possible with him. But even then, things have changed. There were no more of those content silences between the two of you. There were no more carefree laughs that made Luke feel like you two were the only ones that existed in this place. He used to walk you back to your cabin every night, hugging you good night or kissing your forehead close to your hairline if he felt brave enough. Moments like those convinced him you two would be like that forever. But his solace was taken in a split second. Now, you were so near, yet so out of reach. 

It didn’t help that he saw you every day, like right now, as you sat in the middle of a gathering hosted by your cabin. Gods, even the wind seems to be in love with you, judging by the way it was blowing through your hair as if it was trying to twirl itself around those lovely locks that Luke himself used to always tug behind your ears. The sight of you always bathed him in this warm feeling, like the morning sun. Hence his nickname for you: sunshine. 

Then his brown eyes landed on the figure next to you, and they hardened. He has witnessed it all: Cole’s backhanded compliments, ignoring you on your birthday, leaving you alone to talk to his friends, occasionally flirting back with girls who batted an eyelash at him, and then blatantly telling you that you were overthinking it. Luke knew he could treat you so much better. 

You were sitting with your boyfriend and his group of friends, who often gave you weird looks or snickers. Gods, if it was him you were with, he’d never make you feel excluded. He would have his arms around you and defend you if his friends ever made snarky remarks. Not that that would ever happen anyway; you were well-loved at camp, and all his friends loved you. But he would treat you well, nevertheless, not like that dumbass sitting next to you.

One of your favorite songs started playing, and Luke watched as you genuinely smiled for once tonight. You touched your boyfriend’s arm, muttering something to him. Luke knew exactly what you were saying to Cole because you and Luke used to do this together. Except, you never had to ask Luke. 

Whenever your favorite tunes were on, Luke would immediately pull you out of your seat and dance with you, laughing as if nothing mattered at all. Nights like those, he liked to imagine that the stars above envied them and what the two of you had. Now? He felt like one of them, watching from the outside. 

Luke’s jaw clenched as he saw Cole shrugging off your hand on his arm. Gods, Luke felt like that idiot was taking you for granted, and his blood boiled. Before Cole, Luke used to always orchestrated some excuse to have you touch him - getting injured on purpose sometimes just to watch you frantically panic over his wounds and take care of him, volunteering to help you out with swords training just to touch your hand and pretend to adjust the way you were holding it, hugging you every time he greeted you and so on.

For a second, your mask slipped, and you had that look on your face, like something had left you emotionally wounded. It was the kind of look Luke would kill to never see again, and oh, the things he would do to get rid of Cole. Luke had to wrestle with the thought of marching up to Cole and beating him to a pulp. However, he did stand up to approach you.

You felt a hand touch your shoulder. When you peered at the person standing, your eyes immediately glimmered as they caught Luke’s. However, something foreign was gleaming in his eyes. The Hermes boy has always looked at you sweetly. But the way he was looking at you right now was filled with something much more intense - borderline fervent, like an obsession. 

Cole finally glanced over at you for the first time the entire night. Unlike you, he instantly recognized the look in Luke’s eyes: hunger and longing. It was clear as day to everybody but you.

Luke extended his hand out for you to take and you understood right away. For the first time in two months, your hand touched his. Luke’s chest sunk and his breathing lost its usual rhythm for a second as your skin made contact with his. The Hermes boy finally looked over to Cole, and the Ares boy saw an immediate shift in his eyes. Now, they were filled with animosity and - the most obvious of all - heated jealousy. 

Luke led you away from Cole and started twirling you around. You let out a laugh - the kind that was infectious and has always brought a smile to Luke’s lips. You both sang along to the lyrics. For once, your relationship felt restored, just like the good old days. Was it wrong that this was the happiest you have felt since you got together with Cole? You shrugged away the thought as the song slowly ended. Luke settled with both hands on your waist while yours were around his neck. Usually, you would put your head on his chest as you both slightly swayed around. But now that you were in a relationship, you kept a bit of distance between the two of you. You gaze up at Luke, who was already staring at you sweetly. The moment was perfect. Gods, you almost wished to stay in it forever.

Meanwhile, Luke hoped he could convey his thoughts through his eyes - the unspoken words he wished he had told you sooner. Could you not see the infatuation coursing through his veins whenever he was with you? Could you not see that you got him at your beck and call? 

The look you gave him almost convinced him that you heard his thoughts. You leaned your head on his chest, caught off-guard by the speed of his heartbeat as it soothed you along with the music in the background. Feeling a heated look over his way, Luke glanced around and locked eyes with your boyfriend. Cole narrowed his eyes while Luke gave Cole a look of resentment and immense loathing. 

Gods, he could be a much better boyfriend than Cole.

“Hey, man,” when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, you lifted your head from Luke’s chest and withdrew your hands around his neck. “I’ll take over from here,” Cole practically pulled you away from Luke and started swaying with you. Instead of feeling happy that Cole finally danced with you after two months of dating, you felt wrong. Cole's hands were on your waist, but they felt sluggish like his heart was not in it at all. Your ear was against Cole’s chest, so you caught the sound of his heartbeat. It sounded…too calm, almost cold and shallow, causing you to twist your lips into a frown.

You glanced up at your boyfriend but saw him staring behind you instead. So you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Luke before getting pulled around by Cole, who roughly yanked your face towards him. He kissed you almost aggressively. There was something cynical and bitter about the way he was kissing you. 

Cole opened his eyes and conceitedly made eye contact with Luke. The Hermes boy glared at the sight of Cole handling you so roughly, claiming your lips so smugly. If it was him, he would be kissing you for you; he would be kissing you to show you how much he worshiped you and the ground you walk on, not to prove an empty point.

You finally managed to pull away when Cole let go of your chin. “All right, we’re done for the night, don’t you think?” your boyfriend muttered, quickly leaving you to return to his friends as if nothing had happened. Despite feeling slightly aggravated at Cole, you hated that you couldn't care less of his words at that moment, and the first thing you did was look in the direction Luke had been before. 

Yet, he was not there anymore.

~~~

Your cabin was not on the same side as Luke’s cabin for this match of capture the flag. You were fighting off some people who were on the blue team. Years of training with Luke paid off because you managed to point your sword at the person’s neck and grinned when they put their hands up in surrender. You continued perusing through the area, trying to regroup with your team or take down another blue team member. However, you almost tripped as you witnessed Cole on the ground with Luke on top of him, repeatedly punching his face..

“Luke!” you called out, watching as Luke’s action faltered, and his eyes darted around frantically around like a lost wild animal. However, Cole took advantage of Luke’s momentary distraction to land a hit on Luke’s face. The Ares boy got off the ground as Luke stumbled and went for another punch. However, Luke dodged it effortlessly and rammed Cole against a tree instead.

“Hey, knock it off,” you yelled, standing between the boys to stop their flight. Luke immediately backed off, afraid he would accidentally hurt you if he didn’t. But Cole, in the middle of his blind rage, still swung for Luke and ended up striking you across the face instead. Right when that happened, Luke pushed Cole again and rushed to your side to assess your injury. At that very moment, Chiron approached the scene with one of Cole’s friends next to him, who promptly told the man:

“It was him. Luke initiated the fight.” 

~~~

Luke wished for somebody to put him out of this misery as he stared at you from afar helplessly. He was so dotted that it hurt. Somebody must have answered his prayers because your eyes met his from across the field. There was a bit of sadness behind them, perhaps regret from how things ended yesterday. You whispered something to your boyfriend, but Cole did not even spare you a glance and waved his hand as if dismissing you from the discussion. Luke’s hand once again curled into a fist. He bit the inside of his cheek from the pain induced by his injury. The Hermes cabin counselor felt no bit of guilt in his body about his physical altercation with Cole. He felt smug at the sight of Cole with one black eye, busted lip, swollen cheek and a body sporting way more bruises than him. 

You deserved better. 

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted, sitting beside Luke. Almost immediately, he hooked one finger under your chin, tilting your head lightly as if he was afraid he might break you. The boy scanned over your injury, sighing at the sight of purple forming under your skin, indicating an emerging bruise. Even so, under the moonlight, you still looked heavenly to him.

“Devon said you initiated the fight. Is that true, Luke?” Luke frowned at the mention of Cole’s friend. Great, now he knew another idiot’s name. Meanwhile, you have asked this because you knew him. There was no way the boy you knew would lose control like this and swing his hands first. 

“No, but what’s the point of telling Chiron that? It’s two against one,” he breathed out.

“Luke, you’re literally the friendliest and nicest counselor here. Of course, he would believe you,” you reasoned. You sighed disappointingly as Luke only shook his head in response as if asking you to drop it.

Now, you two sat in silence. It felt the same as the comforting ones you have had with him before - the ones that made you feel like you were at home in front of your fireplace, curled up with a book. 

“Why are you with him?” and with that, the comfort evaporated as the air thickened. You and Luke rarely argued or even disagreed, so it felt like an unfamiliar territory every time it felt relatively tense between you two. 

“I know you, which is why I know that you’re absolutely miserable with him, so I don’t understand why you’re still with Cole,” Luke commented, though his voice was quiet because he was considerate of drawing this type of attention to you. He had seen it before - Cole causing public altercations and storming off and you running after him with tears emerging from your eyes. He did not want to put you in the same position.

“Y/N, please, as your best friend…” there it was again, the word that used to make you smile brightly, was now the same one that brought you pain. You wanted more. “...You deserve better,” he uttered, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he looked at you with those eyes. There it was again, the look so intense that you were convinced they could swallow you whole. Yet, you could not interpret them. So, you looked away.

“Luke…” you said his name almost like a warning sign. The boy sighed at this. 

His fingers gently tilted your chin towards him, urging you to face him. There was so much contrast in the way he touches you and the way Cole does. You knew precisely why Luke wanted you to look at him: your eyes were your tell for him. Years ago, after you told him that eyes were the windows to one's soul, he told you that he knew this already because he had learned that your eyes will always tell the truth for you. That’s how, in so many instances, he would be the first to notice whenever you're upset. 

“Y/N, does he make you happy?” you stiffened at the question. Words choked up in your throat as your mouth opened to answer. You wanted to say yes so you both could get over this conversation. But you knew he would be able to tell you were lying. The way he looked at you right now, as if you were the only thing that mattered. He seemed so vulnerable. Little did you right at this moment, Luke was willing to surrender and let you go if you said yes.

“Oh, this is who you left me to talk to?” Cole's voice broke you both out of the trance. “The person who beat your boyfriend?” Cole passive-aggressively spat, sneering from above as he looked down at the two of you. You called out to your boyfriend, but he quickly cut you off with a quick “Unbelievable,” before walking away. But Cole did this on purpose. He liked the attention he drew, even if they were at your expense, especially because he knew you would chase after him.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered to Luke on your boyfriend's behalf as you stood up to run after him. Luke frowned as he shook his head. If you were his, he would never allow you to apologize on his behalf, nor would he give a reason for you to ever do that.

“Uhm, what are you waiting for?” Annabeth’s voice broke Luke from his irritated state. “Go after her,” the young girl nudged.

“I doubt I should do that, Annabeth. Last time I was with him, he ended up in the infirmary.”

“Yes, but you need to go after her before it’s too late.”

“It’s already too late.”

“No, it’s not,” the girl stated sternly, and when Luke peered over at her, he recognized the look on her face. From experience, he knew better than to doubt when Annabeth was right. So, he stood up and walked in the direction where you disappeared after your boyfriend.

“Stop it, Cole. I don’t want to…” Your voice grabbed Luke’s attention as he started walking in that direction, eyebrows furrowed.

“Come on, this is the least you could do to make it up to me,” Cole replied. 

When Luke reached the scene, he almost went into an uncontrollable wrath when he saw Cole trying to take off your shirt as you objected and struggled out of his grip. 

“I said ‘let go,’ Cole,” you yelled this time, pushing him back. Upon finally doing so successfully, a figure stormed past you and immediately flung at Cole’s cheek, right at the spot that was already bruising. The impact knocked Cole to the ground as he wailed from the pain. Averting your gaze to the person, you saw Luke. Like a deranged bull, Luke grabbed Cole by the collar and lifted him up, going in for another hit, but you quickly stopped him, calling out his name.

Cole, who did not learn his lesson, spoke again, “Gods, of course! He runs to your aid again. You must be a good fuck for him to get this attached. How many times have you fucked him, huh? Gods, you’re such a whore, you know that?” If it were not for your hands stopping Luke and removing his grip from Cole’ shirt, Luke would have ensured Cole no longer had a face. 

“Cole, stay the fuck away from me. We are over.” Your words seemed to affect Luke more than Cole. It was as if Luke could feel an immense weight being lifted from his shoulders. “Let’s go, this is not worth it,” you told Luke. Cole barked a laugh at this.

“Man, you’re more trouble than it's worth. Do you know why no guys ever asked you out? You’re fucking difficult and clingy, that’s why. If it was not for that fucking bet, I would not have either.” Luke was about to launch at Cole but was caught off guard because you had already done it yourself. You punched him, aiming for his nose and teeth, making sure to break a few.

“You fucking bitch!” Cole spoke after he howled in agony. He spat out blood as his nose started bleeding, “Gods, you’re gonna pay for this.”

“Oh yeah? Come on!” you challenged him, motioning him to come over. Any sense of calm or restraint you had was long gone. “I’ll be the one sending you to the fucking infirmary this time,” right when you started approaching Cole again, you were quickly stopped by Luke. He stood behind you, one of his hands soothingly rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you down. Luke averted his gaze to Cole.

“If you know any better, then leave, Cole. And don’t come near any of us again, or I promise you…” Luke trailed off, shaking his head as his eyes bore the weight of the promise he left unsaid, leaving it to Cole’s imagination as to what Luke would ever do to him if he ever saw the boy again. Something seemed to dawn on Cole as he saw the dark look on Luke’s face. Cole finally decided to leave the scene, limping away from the area as he muttered some insults under his breath.

You turned around and inspected Luke’s hand, which started bleeding again through the bandage. Taking his non-injured hand in yours, you wordlessly dragged the boy to the infirmary. Despite the excruciating pain spreading through his injured hand, Luke blushed at your action and followed you like a lost puppy.

The Apollo person on shift was someone you knew, so you managed to convince them to let you do the work on the Hermes boy. You observed his hand again, peeling off the dirty bandage from it. As you went to grab disinfectant, Luke softly held you back by flipped over his hand that was in yours so that he could take a look at your hand instead.

“Are you okay?” His words made you swiftly look over at him instead. There was a sad look on his face as he sat on the infirmary bed. You haven’t seen him this hurt and dejected in a long time.

“Am I okay? You’re the one with the bleeding hand.”

“You punched him quite hard.”

“He deserved it,” you settled on answering, hesitantly pulling your hand out of his so you could grab the things you needed. 

“You know I had that handled, right?” you asked mindlessly, trying to fill the silence as you disinfected his hand and wrapped a new bandage over it. “I don’t need you to defend my honor or anything, Luke. I can hold my own ground,” you tried joking.

“No, I know you can hold your own ground. Besides, I wasn’t defending your honor,” he spoke softly, watching as you delicately held his hand with so much care. He wished you could hold him like that as well. A quivering sigh escaped his soft lips, his voice much less firm than he wanted it to be: 

“I was defending the girl I’m in love with.”

You immediately looked at him, only to see him already gazing up at you. It was as if a blindfold had been taken off, you finally understood what your other friends were referring to when they said that Luke had always “looked” at you. His eyes were filled with adoration. However, this time, they were also decorated with pain.

“I could be a better boyfriend than him,” he stated, almost like it was a fact, and your gut knew it was true, too. 

“So….Why not me? I watched you give Cole - a complete asshole - a chance with you. I watched him give you so much less than what you deserve. It pains me, but I still sit here and wait for you to look in my direction for even one second in the way I have always looked at you. I could be so good to you, Y/N. I waited for you to realize I could be the one who loves you so endlessly and treats you way better than all these guys combined. So…why? Please tell me why and put me out of my misery. Why is it not me?”

“Luke…” you rasped out his name. Despite the pain he was in, his heart could not help but throb for a second as it yearned for the sound of your voice calling out to him again. He almost scowled at himself for the way he was reacting to you. Gods, you managed to unravel him through the sound of his name from your lips. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he would even be able to take it at all - if he was given a chance with you. Would he be able to handle the way your skin felt against his, or would his heart burst into unstoppable flames? Would he ever be able to move on if you ended up breaking his heart, or would it remain in scattered pieces of you?

“I love you,” he uttered so effortlessly, which almost convinced you he had said it a thousand times before. In a way, he did, but only in his mind after every time he bid you goodnight. Gods, never did you think he’d say it out loud and put it out there. You almost said it before as well - out loud to the universe, but never brave enough.

“Luke, I never knew,” Luke wanted to sigh as he looked away from you. For the first time ever, he did not want to be vulnerable and let you see his eyes. The same ones that had been looking longingly at you for the past five years, and you were too blinded to see.

He could have sworn that he had been laying it on thick for the past years - all the touches, the looks, his actions. Luke would always linger near you and select you first every time he had to go on a quest. And if he ever were selected to go on one without you, the first thing he would do after returning is wrap his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, breathing in your presence like it would bring him back to life from the gruesome battles he had to go through while out of camp. Did all those actions throughout five years not show you enough that he was infatuated with you? He wanted to reassure you that what Cole said previously was not true. Many guys wanted you but never asked you out because they knew he would be first in line no matter what. 

"Luke, please, look at me," Of course he obeyed. His eyes met yours - the ones he always tried to find in a crowd of demigods.

“I never knew that you were an option. I did not know that I could choose you. I thought that even attempting to tell you about my feelings would break our friendship forever. I didn’t know you felt this way, too. In fact,” you dryly chuckled. “I was giving Cole a chance because I was trying to move on from you.” Luke tugged you closer to him, his fingers lingering on your hips. Thousands of thoughts speared through him as he tried to collect himself. A glimmer of hope presented itself as his mind toyed with the idea of you wanting him too.There was no way he was letting you move on now, not when you both have mutual feelings. 

“I thought I was deep in the friend zone. Did you not see all the moves I pulled on you?” he asked.

“What moves?”

“Uhm—the physical contact?”

“I thought you were just touchy.”

“I walked you back to your cabin every night!”

“Well, I thought it was just a best friend thing?”

“The first thing I do after every quest is search for you, you’re always the first one I want to see.”

“I really, really thought it was because you were my best friend.” He groaned at all of your responses.

“But do know, Luke. You have always been my first option in everything. And I would have chosen you again and again, the first pick every round…if I knew you were up for it.” He groaned again, but this time out of temptation and satisfaction. He didn’t think the metaphorical butterflies were real. He slowly but surely stood up from the infirmary’s bed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You reciprocated, your hands around his neck. He leaned closer to you and gulped. He wanted to say the right words, do the right things and not mess this up. He took a deep breath and finally settled on what to say next.

“Can I kiss you?” He muttered in a low, raspy voice with a restrained manner, as if he was holding himself back. Five years of pining led him to this point. You almost melted at the sound of his voice.

“Kiss me, Luke.”

And he did. He pulled you up and arched down, connecting your lips together. He dove in as if he had been waiting for this day his whole life. He felt every breath knocked out of his lungs. He sunk himself into this moment like he was living for it rather than in it. He kissed you as if it was the only time he could and as if you would evaporate if he stopped. His hands moved to your face to embrace your cheeks in his palm.

You started moving your hands up his head and played with his curly hair. You tugged it slightly, and the action drew a moan from Luke. The sound caused you to break away. It made you flustered that you had evoked such an alluring sound from the Hermes boy. 

“I wanna go slow for you, I really do. But it feels like I’ve been waiting for so long. I want to be a gentleman and not skip steps. But I can’t wait anymore,” he whispered before whimpering against your lips, “please be mine.”

He went in for another kiss again, but you pulled away. His heart clenched at this. The boy bit his lip and wanted to scowl at himself for attempting to speed things up. He was too greedy and wanted things too quickly for you. He almost whined at the thought of losing the chance he barely had.

“That was not a question, Luke. Ask me, and I’ll give you an answer,” he stared into your eyes, and it almost set him on fire. He never saw that much passion in them before. It almost matched his, and that made his heart fasten again.

“Will you be mine, sunshine?”

“Yes, Luke. As long as you’re mine too.”

“I have always been yours.”

——————————

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[romaevelizz]

Never let them know your next move˖ ࣪⊹

Summary: them kissing up on you then they do the unspeakable

Characters; bokuto, kuroo, tanaka

Warnings: chaos, cursing, play fighting, kissing, little hot n sweaty. Not proofread! Touchy grabby boys what can I say.. fem!reader

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

BOKUTO

☆ “your being mean baby..” he whined, ko had been loving up on you for the past fifteen minutes. You’ve only been ignoring him because you were working on school work. “I’ll give you attention in a minute ko.” You hummed.

His dramatic sighs causing you to laugh. It wasn’t like you never payed attention to him it just happens to be kniw when wants it the most. Acting like a puppy who’s deprived. He watched his head resting on your shoulder his eyes wondering your fingers that typed on the keyboard.

How could you ignore him he thought, “you hate me..” he muttered his lips kissing your shoulder. “With everything in my body.” You smiled, feeling his lips travel up your shoulder. His large hands squeezing your hips. “Jus’ want you to love on me.. wanna feel you on me..” he whispered, his tone seductive.

You bit your lip a tingle forming in the pit of your stomach “Ko-“

“AHH!” You yelled, feeling the wettest of his tongue like the side of your face. It wasn’t even small teasing he licked the whole side of your face, quickly pushing himself back knowing your were about to fight.

“You’re fucking kidding me” you laughed discarding your lap top going after him, a fat smile on his face as he grabed your arms pining you down. “Koutaro! Let go of me..” you groaned his big arms holding you against him.

“Nope! I’ve got you now!”

KUROO

☆ His eyes watched you as you wondered around your room, your body pacing impatiently. Kuroo had come over as you were cleaning your room, bad timing yes but he wanted to see you. He wanted a danm nap but you just had to be set on cleaning your room. “UGH!! we can clean it later baby! For the love of god come over to me.” He fake cried sprawling out on you bed.

He watched as you rolled your eyes in the mirror of your vanity, you focused going back on organizing the drawers. He huffed pushing off your bed you watched as he walked up behind you.

“Let me finish I don’t even have that much to do..” you whined feeling his cold hands go under your shirt. “Tetsu my parents are home.” He nodded taking in what you said.

His hands cupping your Boobs over your bra fondling them you felt him smile on the nape of your neck, him enjoying himself. Yet when he looked in the mirror you practically ignored him, though the heat radiating of your face spoke other wise. “Just come lay down with me.” He squeezed a bit tighter.

A pleasant little groan leaving your lips caused him to chuckle mischievously. His lips starting kissing your face a small smile appeared on your face as he did so. But the moment was to nice..

“YOU DID NOT!” You yelled the feeling of your boyfriend letting go of you quickly.

Turning around he was laughing, laughing his ass off. He had licked you!

“AHH BABY PLEASE I WAS JUST JOSHING!”he yelled as you ran at him.

A fit of giggles coming from him as you whipped your wet face against his, “no!” He cried out.

“That what you get motherfucker,” you spoke quickly licking him back after.

“What going on?” The sound of your fathers voice spoke, him witnessing you beating your boyfriend your body on top of him.

“Never mind.. I don’t even wanna know..” he groaned.

TANAKA

☆ Let’s be honest you’d kind be used to it with him. But in this case you were not!

You two where out with his family at dinenr his family sitting around you, two talking amongst themselves. Tanaka was not afraid to kiss up on you in front of his family as nervous as it made you he loved doing it. His lips kissing your hand as you told him to stop “Ryu your grandmother is staring at us.” You whined.

His grandma was in fact staring a smile on her face as she watched her grandson love on you, “you’re so beautiful, I can’t keep to myself.” He said his head falling on your shoulder his lips still kissing on your fingers.

He was normaly very lovey dovey on you but there was just this feeling, you knew something was about to happen you could feel it. And it did happen.

Ryu licking the back of you hand. The back of you hand quickly meeting his mouth popping him. “Ryu! Fu- nasty!”

A heavy laugh left him as you beat on him, his family watching in amusement as you beat on him, “Licking me really! And I knew it was gonna happen!” You spoke is a hushed yell.

“Ahh! Please mercy, baby mercy!!” He yelled dramatically falling into his sisters side for protection just for her to gang up on him as-well.

“Please guys I couldn’t help myself.”he spoke putting a fake frown on his face.

[areislol]

"forget him, be with me instead."

ft— various male genshin x fem! reader (childhood friend trope)

warning — slight angst but it's just a pinch! comfort, mutual pining (?), smitten men, fluff, kissing. headcanons are a bit down! modern! au, implied toxic relationship

a/n— yay time to write some fluff after writing angst, what a life! listened to laufey's 'everything i know about love' album while listening to this ^^ this is a little bit rushed and might be a wee bit shitty but uhm please don't judge your girl was out here suffering

wordcount. 3.7k

synopsis. your boyfriend stood you up on your date, once again, and as usual your childhood friend is here to comfort you.

In the soft glow of the quaint café, you sat alone, your anticipation slowly morphing into a quiet ache. You had meticulously chosen your outfit, a delicate dance between casual and elegant.

You had arrived early, your excitement palpable. The minutes stretched into an eternity as the minutes on the clock ticked away, and the once hopeful glimmer in yours eyes dimmed with each passing moment.

The ambient chatter and clinking of utensils became a dissonant soundtrack to your growing unease. You checked your phone repeatedly, hoping for a message or a call that would explain the delay.

The vibrant ambiance of the café, which had initially felt like the backdrop to a romantic night, now served as a cruel witness to your solitude.

You take out your phone from your pocket, anxiously checking the time on your phone before sliding your hand back in, clenching it tightly. 8 PM. Your heart sunk as you realized that it was now exactly 8 PM, the time you both agreed on arriving.

You didn't want to jump to conclusions, maybe he was stuck in traffic? But then again it was 8 PM, barely any road traffic. Was his boss keeping him back for a little bit? Did the wifi cut off in his building, was that why he couldn't send you a text?

Despite trying to comfort yourself by putting ideas in your head, you had a hunch that he was most definenetly not coming, he had forgotten about your date.

It wasn't the first time he stood you up, as a matter of fact, he had stood you up many times but you always pushed it aside. You pushed his mistakes aside, why? Because he was your boyfriend. You knew it was wrong but... what could you do? You didn't want to lose him.

As the realization settled in, a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment clouded your expression. The waiter, noticing your solitary presence, approached with a mixture of sympathy and concern.

You mustered a brave smile and declined a menu, your appetite for food dissipating. The warmth of the café offered little solace as you continued to sit on your reserved seat, looking like an utter fool just sitting there, waiting for someone who wasn't going to come any time soon.

You checked the time once again, 8:10 PM, seconds went by, then minutes, and hours. You checked the time one more time—the clock reached 10:15 PM. You had arrived at the café at 7 PM.

Sighing at the realization that you really sat there and waited for your 'boyfriend' for three hours, you felt like an idiot. And even more of an idiot of the fact that you let this slide so many times.

You decide to leave the café, ignoring the sympathetic looks given your way. You take out your phone from your pocket once again, this time you didn't check the time but rather press on a familiar icon before making a call.

As you foot taps on the ground anxiously you wait for him to pick up the phone. You stand outside just a few inches away the café door, as you wait for what felt like an eternity all the emotions got to you.

Tears welled in your eyes, betraying the resilience you had tried so hard to maintain. Your emotions that were long kept in check, spilled over like a dam bursting at the seams. The phone continued to buzz, waiting for the other side to pick up.

The streetlamp cast a soft glow on your tear-streaked face as you lowered your phone, defeated by both the silence and the heartache. But just as the phone was about to go silent, by some miracle he picked up.

"Y/N?" For some odd reason hearing his voice made you have the urge to bawl your eyes out once again. You hastily wiped away your tears and attempted to sound nonchalant.

"Hey I uh.. I—" you paused, voice a delicate balance between composure and fragility. Sighing, you continued. "I got stood up."

Your words were short and blunt, but by now you were holding back a waterfall. You patiently wait for his answer over the deafening silence. "... Again? That boy.."

His voice was laced with annoyance, disappointment and concern.

"Where are you now? At the café? Stay right there, shit it's raining, make sure to stay under cover okay? I'll be there in about 10 minutes."

You could hear the sounds of him excusing himself from his boss and the angry cries from his boss.

"Aren't you at work though? It's okay you don't have to come pick me up."

"Are you crazy? So what if I'm at work? I'm not leaving you out there alone, plus it's raining. I know you hate having wet hair." Well, he wasn't lying. He was your childhood friend after all, he knew almost everything about you.

And before you knew it, just after a couple minutes of ending the call you noticed a figure making it's way towards you, umbrella in hand as he gives you a small smile. All the while rain was pouring down on your head.

is extremely happy that you finally realized that your boyfriend (soon to be ex) is horrible, he won't show it though. but he is really happy.

the first thing he did when he saw you absolutely drenched in the heavy downpour was take off his jacket and place it over your shoulders and hold the umbrella over your head. there were many questions he wanted to ask but the main one was "are you alright?"

yes he wanted to question about that damn lout (your boyfriend) but he already knew the answer. it happened too many times, way too many times. you and your boyfriend would agree to go on a date, you would arrive early or on time, you wouldn't get an answer from him when you questioned why he was late, minutes would turn into hours and then you would call him.

he wasn't mad at you, no never, but your (*cough* ex *couch*) boyfriend? absolutely. if anything he wanted to prove to you that he was a horrible boyfriend so he would always come to pick you up and try to knock some sense into your head, sometimes his words would go from one ear and out your other.

when you don't answer his question and begin to bawl your eyes out he immediately begins to panic, because you are crying hard. he only lets out a soft sigh before holding the back of your head and gently pushes your face in his chest, letting you cry into his chest. he softly pats your head in an attempt to comfort you (it does)

he resist the urge to say "i told you so" because, he did tell you so, but he knew it would only dampen your mood. he reassures and shushes you warmly, and his soft voice really does calm you down.

"shh, i know it's okay. you'll be fine. he is a big jackass alright? don't waste your pretty tears on him."

you both begin to walk together through the raining weather, he obviously doesn't want to see you cry so he offers to buy you your favourite snacks and drinks in a convenience store. you refuse, thinking that you already troubled him enough but NO he will not take no for an answer.

"trouble me? never."

and it worked!! your mood slightly lifted after chugging down your favourite packet of chips. in all honestly he found your puffy cheeks and eyes cute, the way your eyes glistened slightly from your tears, and the way you were chomping on your food? so adorable.

when you quietly thank him his heart bursts even more (like every other day he sees you) but he waves his hand, "it's nothing, sit down, lets talk."

why did he sound so scary? he would never know. when you both sit down on the ground, back pressed against the wall of a shop, he begins to question you. "you do realize that this is like the tenth time he stood you up right?" you nod your head sadly as you were reminded of what had happened.

he sighed, "i just want you to know that this.. you can't just forgive him after this, after all of this. he even forgot your anniversary! i'm.. i'm just worried for you. you know that?"

you knew he was only worrying for you and wanted the best for you. but despite all the other times that you would dismiss his worries and say "it's okay we all make mistakes" you really thought about it this time. and boy was he right.

do you know how ecstatic he was when you told him that you would break up with him!? HE WAS OVER THE MOON, he was literally on cloud 9. not that he could show it thought, you would be suspicious of him. but then again he has had the biggest and fattest crush on you since you were little.

but after that he tried his best to make you happier (even if he hated doing it), he would point out the most stupidest shit ever, "oh look at that squirrel, Y/N, doesn't it remind you of childe?" or "wow the uh, the light is really.. light'ing.."

sigh.. he's trying his best okay..

although it wasn't really funny, the way he spoke was most definenetly funny. when he notices how you hold back your laughter or even chuckle slightly that's just his motivation to do better, he would also tell you silly little jokes that he googled on his phone (while you were looking away) quickly.

buttt now he has an even better idea :) what is it you say? taking you out on a date of course! right now...? why not right now!

(please he's just really excited that you're going to break up with that old hag, meaning he has a shot!! he will definenetly give it his all to try and woo you.)

— ALHAITHAM, kaeya, WRIOTHESLEY, AYATO, dainsleif, NEUVILLETTE, CYNO, ZHONGLI, tighnari

starts scolding you and goes on a bit ass rant about how you deserve better than that (AND I QUOTE) "low life lout", he thinks he sounds all harsh and mean but to you he only sounds like he was really worried about you

"seriously, how many times does this boy have to repeat his actions until the truth gets through your thick noggin." he heaved a great sigh, a bit dramatic don't you think? he continues to rant and rant about blah blah blah you weren't listening. and only when he notices that tears are rolling down your cheeks freely does he shut the hell up.

"hey hey— what's wrong? don't cry.." he tries his best to act slightly annoyed because truly he kind of was, he hated seeing you hang out with your 'boyfriend', he hated seeing how your eyes would light up every time you saw him, the effort you put into your relationship, he hated how blind you were to his actions.

but, despite his tough outer shell he was really a softie inside. so when you began to bawls your eyes out (again) he immediately switches up, his voice that was so harsh was no soft and tender. a tone he barely uses (he only spoke nicely to you okay!!)

a sigh. "i didn't mean to be mean, i'm sorry. i'm just so annoyed that you keep on.. i don't know! i'm just frustrated okay." you were confused? why was he frustrated, shouldn't it be the other way around since.. you.. were the one being stood up?

he (surprisingly) wipes away your tears, cupping your cheeks with his hand as he uses his thumb to dry your tears. "i don't like seeing you cry, okay? follow me now" you were confused again, but follow him anyway.

he literally bought you back inside the café, the waiter looks happy and surprised (in her head she was thinking: wow so this is the fucker who stood his own girlfriend up?), when he was ordering your favourite pastry and drink he was really confused about why the lady was giving him such a dirty face.

"hey y/n, any idea why that lady over there is giving me a stank eye?"

he watches as you eat your food happily, he only hoped that you had forgotten what had happened before, not only that but he sees this as a way to show you that he would be a much better boyfriend, i mean look at him! he came (he would always come on time), memorized what your favourite snacks/pastries/drinks were, sat down with you. he wasn't trying to boast but.. he would make one hell of a boyfriend than your current one.

you noticed that he wasn't eating and just.. staring at you. "want some?" you offered, he shook his head no but you wouldn't take that for an answer. you shove a spoonful of cake in his mouth and smile happily. "yummy?" he only grumbles, looking like an angry cat. "mmm i guess.." (he really liked it please feed him more)

seeing you smile after bawling your eyes out and wasting your tears on somebody you didn't deserve felt like a treat. he also wipes the excess food and crumbs on the corner of your lips, he looked adorable when he was concentrating hard to wipe it off, and it wasn't like he was trying to be romantic as he wasn't maintaining eye contact, but when he backed away and looked at you and notices how you were smirking he scoffed.

"don't you get any ideas now." you giggled at his words and continued to eat your cake as well as occasionally feeding him as well. all you were thinking about was ow delicious the cake was but all he was thinking about was you. he was.. basically taking you out on a date. woah.

when you both exit the shop, you thank him for the food and also apologize for dragging him out here in the rain and how you got his hair wet. "yeah well yours is too. you can blame that asshole." he noticed how your face slightly drops, a solemn expression on your face.

"yeah.. i guess so." !?!?!?! you actually agreed with him?!?! HE WON AT LIFE WOOOOOOOOOOO

and now that you both are on the same terms he can finally talk to you about everything, but all the while he was explaining how he saw him (your soon to be ex) treat you, he couldn't help but also include his feelings. that's one thing you caught on.

"he forgot your anniversary, did you forget? i was absolutely frustrated! i mean at his actions, i mean his actions and him! i would never do that if i was your boyfriend. h—hypothetically."

you had a hunch that he had a thing for you, but not that big of a crush. maybe he was just really angry that he kept stumbling over his words?

either way, he told you what you should do you this time you listened, chiming in with your own experiences with your boyfriend and the more you did that the more you began to notice hoe you really looked past all his red flags.

safe to say he won at life, again, this time he won't pussy out on you and will for sure confess to you!

— WANDERER, XIAO, dottore, diluc, PIERRO, albedo

a bit... too giddy. willingly SHOWS and TELLS that he is happy. i mean not at you being stood up but how you're finally getting a grip, wait.. is than a "i'm going to break up with him" he heard?!?! GOD BLESS

he doesn't say anything at first, comforting you and drying your hair the very best he can (literally bought a book to dry your hair: swatting it), he lets you cry on his shoulder, letting you hug him tightly (not that he was complaining... oh did you just break his ribs? nah it's all good)

he lets you calm down first to the point where it's just hiccups rather than tears rolling down your cheeks (and when you could barely breathe by how you were choking on your tears), he holds you in his arms, rocking you slightly.

"okay, i don't want to sound.. rude but, i think it's time you start to notice how badly he's treating you. i mean, look at you, you're a mess (dare i say, a beautiful one), he made you feel this, he made you cry. and he isn't here to apologize. this isn't the first time too, y/n, i'm begging you, please don't look past this."

he tries his best to explain to you everything, what he saw, what he is doing to you, how he feels and how you feel (he knows everything shh). and you can't deny it, you won't, because everything he was telling you was true. and you hated how you couldn't deny anything.

he leaves you for a couple of minutes so that you could collect your thoughts and emotions while he went to go buy some snacks, especially some sweets and savory. "this should cheer you up" he says as he passes the plastic bag to you.

"oh wait i forgot to get some ramen, be right back!" you didn't have enough time to stop him as he was already on his way to grab a hot cup of ramen for you. he was just too sweet. when he came back with your favourite cup of ramen he would open the lid and blow onto it, he insisted on feeding you, saying that you must've been exhausted from today (but you barely did anything?)

you can't help but notice how... somewhat happy he was, normally when he comes after you call him (after being stood up once again) he seemed concerned for you, and he does look concerned for you, i mean he is always but today... he looked giddy. was it maybe because you said that you would be breaking up with your boyfriend today? so strange..

!!! not only that but he encourages you to break up with him, and he doesn't mean it like that, he just wants the best for you. and you obviously say yes because.. everything he is telling you IS true. next thing you know he's literally helping you write a sincere paragraph to your boyfriend on text.

"oh you should send a voice message as well, i think it'll really help him understand how serious you are."

you're too afraid to make a voice message? no worries, he'll do it for you!! he will send the most passive aggressive voice message know to man kind (he had to fight back the urge to yell obscenities over call). basically, this man is way too happy, not that it's suspicious or anything, just a little worrying LMAO

he's just really happy, happy for him and you! it's a win-win honestly. you finally get out of that toxic relationship and finally get a hold of reality, but also for him to finally get his chance to maybe try to confess to you. (one day... but he'll make sure to woo you sooner or later before someone else swoops you off your feet)

he's literally on his way to manifest for you two to be together, repeat after him, i don't chase, i attract (he literally chases after you so uhm forget about that please)

— THOMA, KAVEH, LYNEY, itto, gorou, KAZUHA, pantalone, heizou, VENTI, capitano, childe, baizhu

As the rain began to clear, only leaving behind a tranquil symphony of soft pitter-patters. You two stood next to each other, letting the silence take over.

All the while he was contemplating something, something that will change your relationship for the better or worse.

Should he kiss you?

For years he had always wanted to feel your lips against his but he was always so nervous to do so.

But right now? It was the perfect opportunity, the raining had almost cleared, the atmosphere was soft and romantic. If he didn't do it now then who knew how long it would take for him to build up his courage again?

All of the sudden he cupped your cheek with warm palms, the tenderness in his touch was evident even in the hesitant pause that hung in the air.

For a moment, uncertainty flickered in his eyes, a silent contemplation of unspoken desires. Was he really about to pussy out again?

You, for one, was a bit puzzled by the sudden shift in the atmosphere and his sudden actions. When your gaze met his with curiosity. In that fleeting moment, he knew he had to do it.

Even if it ruined everything he built up with you.

He muttered a breathless "fuck it," as if casting aside the weight of hesitation that tethered him, in a moment that felt like an eternity, he leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a passionate kiss that stole her breath away.

You were caught off guard, were you imagining this? No you couldn't be, it felt so real. Your heart raced with a mixture of surprise and delight. The kiss was passionate and full of raw emotion, igniting a fire within her that she was pressed so far down.

The softness of his lips against yours sent waves of tenderness through your body, and in that moment, your realized that this kiss was not just a spur-of-the-moment act; it was a reflection of the unspoken feelings that had been building between them for so long.

His touch was gentle yet filled with an underlying intensity, it was a kiss that sparked something, expressing all the words they had been too afraid to say.

You closed your eyes, allowing him to continue as your hands held onto his wrist. A couple of seconds passed by when he, unfortunately, pulled away—your eyes locked once again in a silent acknowledgment.

His eyes held such a fiery passion as you stared deeply into your eyes. He looked relieved as if finally taking initiative that had been weighing him down.

"I... But—" You were still left breathless as you spoke, you felt an underlying guilt, still not haven broken up with your boyfriend yet.

He understood what you were thinking and feeling, "look at me, Y/N." At his request you did so, observing his face and trying to guess what he was going to do next. Kiss you again? (Yes please)

"Forget him, be with me instead."

note: off to continue writing for my sagau now, this was more like a shitpost for the shits and giggles but aye

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

another note: not proof read so if you found any spelling/grammar mistakes PLEASE tell me

[satoruhour]

Accidentally sending gojo a nude and before you can properly apologise he sends a video of his own which leads to..well🫣

BABY BLUE SWEETNESS

a/n: my clit grew hands and wrote this. combined this w/ a part 2 of being gojo’s roommate / tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @utahimeow @lov3rbody my gojo fuckers

wc: 3.7k (I HAVE GOT TO STOP WRITING SM ....)

warnings: mutual pining, roommate!gojo, dom!gojo, he gets rough but only bc he loves ur pussy sssoooo much, sending nudes by accident to gojo, semi-public m! masturbation, filming (on gojo’s end), pet names, praise, slight f! masturbation, oral / cunnilingus, nipple play, bit of dialogue during sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (twice!), multiple rounds, implied m! oral, n*sfw under the cut

the next week goes by uneventfully.

but you think there’s hardly anything worth happening when you hadn’t even said anything about that: standing outside satoru’s room, hearing his pleasured moans along with the slickness of his hand on his cock and watching him at his most vulnerable with whispers of your name.

gojo did have a few moments of weakness — brief bouts of failing to meet your eyes, stuttering, but he was still predominantly himself after, throwing laundry on the floor and leaving the toilet paper roll unfilled. by date, he was the messiest roommate you’ve roomed with, compared to sleeping over at shoko’s and geto’s places before; sure it was obvious enough being friends with him since high school, though you hadn’t thought that the rowdy, outgoing way that he spoke would translate into his living space, too.

and despite being the one who has the upper hand that very day you decided to stop and watch, he still manages to have some sort of hold on you, catching you off-guard at the worst times.

“any luck with the mods?” gojo peeks over at your laptop over at the small dining table, your leg propped up and a scowl on your face at how you were still on the waitlist. while mr. perfect beside you has gotten every module he’s bidded for, a course on philosophy, romantic and 20th century music as well as an online mod about ethics.

“i don’t even know why you got that last one! funny how the most annoying person who has anything but morals is entering an ethics course.” maybe it was the fact that you’ve already waited one and a half weeks. perhaps it was that one piece of clothing gojo loved to leave on the floor, or simply it was just because of the man himself — you were on your wit’s end with the week.

that fades away when you’re turning your head and gojo is right there, hovering over your computer screen with a sly smirk on his face and his stupid bright, blue eyes that you could spend hours staring at.

“you wound me, baby,” gojo whispers, like it was a secret between the two of you and he pulls away, both hearts beating an unnatural speed at the proximity. gojo swears to himself he’ll never call you anything close to that or be that close because it’s absolutely not good for his heaving chest and hardening dick — those pretty plump lips of yours and the innocent look on your face — he wanted to both kiss it and fuck it.

and yet, on dormitory movie nights where you’re sat on both ends of the couch with geto and shoko between the two of you, satoru wills himself to patiently wait until the end of the first movie to stretch his limbs and get more snacks; he knows you’ll follow, too, because it’s been like that for as long as he can remember.

“you know you have to stop eating all that candy, right?” you’re saying it mindlessly, pouring more chips into a bowl and getting the hummus and guac, “it’s not healthy.”

gojo’s leaning on the counter and doesn’t help whatsoever, both elbows on the wood and head tipped back to meet your height.

“aw, is my cute roomie worried about me?” you almost want to ignore him with that little compliment, not sure if he even meant it, but you’re leaning into him this time with a little glance down to his lips that he thinks he imagined it.

“no, just wondering how embarrassed i’ll be when i have to tell the paramedics that when you finally collapse on the floor, it was because my dumb roommate had consumed too much sugar.” you like this little game you play with satoru, yet you’ve never been this bold; maybe it’s because you know he finds you hot, too, but the two of you are too stubborn to stand your ground and admit the obvious.

gojo’s feigned pout spreads into a grin and simply blows a raspberry at your explanation. there’s a crinkle of yet another sweet packet, disregarding your chastise from earlier. “smart little thing, hm?”

“i become the brightest when you’re involved,” you swipe the sweet from his fingers and pop it into your mouth, “i have to when i need to insult you.” the two of you spend the rest of the movie night hip to hip on the couch, ignoring the fire in your connected limbs and the spark of your fingers when they brush against each other.

it’s a few months before you’re fully embracing that you might not just find your roommate hot, but that maybe you’d want to “wife” him up as the other has expressed jokingly. it didn’t help that gojo is cleaning up a little more often these days, learning how to cook and using his inside voice like you told him to (you didn’t think he’d remember). the last straw was possibly seeing him fuss over you when you fell sick, switching to remote classes just so he could be close to you — his main excuse was that he didn’t want his laundry to be infected.

“but you don’t even like to use shirts half the time you’re home!”

“you’re calling this home—” gojo giggles while simultaneously shoving cough mixture down your throat, “i didn’t know we were married!”

“shut your trap before i really make you regret this.”

but gojo thinks that maybe it wasn’t so bad to come home to you in one of his future days, he just had to get through this first.

it was meant to be a simple photo to show off your new set of lingerie, the ones that you had gotten with your girls at a half-off price just the other day. you couldn’t blame yourself when your hands naturally reached for one that mirrored gojo’s eyes alongside the white details that represent his hair. buy it, take a potential nude and laugh about it in the group chat, that’s all. you felt so damn sexy in it that you even went as far as to take a few photos with your bra unclasped and phone in hand hiding your chest, until the very last one where it was fully off.

you felt unlike yourself, in that stuffy, small dorm while satoru was out in a lecture—

before gojo texts you about groceries and his chat moves to the very top that same moment you’ve got all these lewd, unnatural pictures of you waiting to be sent. it happened all too fast: at least 10 being delivered and read on the spot that your panic is indescribable and you want to melt into mush on the floor.

while you’re scrambling to delete them, gojo stares at your figure in that last racy picture, hands skilfully covering your breasts just enough that he could still see the curve of them and then down to your figure interrupted by a pretty pair of blue lace undies. it’s like you planned this, looking so delectable in your little get-up until it all disappears and you’re sending multiple messages of “i’m so sorry”’s and “it was an accident”’s.

gojo thanked the heavens he was sat at the very back of the lecture theatre, immediately booking it out of there with the images of you seared into his brain. his cock is throbbing and so, so hard it almost hurts to walk to the restroom, and you’re still continuing your apologies. he wants to scream at you — how you do not need to say sorry for whatever you’ve just sent, because as he removes his dick from his tight pants, there’s a soft sigh of your name that falls from his lips.

satoru is reminded of the times you’d be sat in your stupid booty shorts in the dorm, basically showing your folds because he just knew you didn’t like to use underwear underneath. he’s reminded of the times you had to (unwillingly) use one of his shirts when the washing machine had broken down and the only thing on his mind at the time was what you’d look like bouncing on him — he thinks that maybe he just needs to spit it the fuck out, and so he opens the video feature on your private chat.

“this is what you do t’me, baby,” gojo’s tip is already leaking so much pre-cum, making sure he can be seen, expression and all, “you make me so— s-shit— fucking hard.”

he didn’t even care if he could be heard, pumping his cock to the thought of you in that baby blue set of lingerie. he thinks of ripping it all off of you and buying you more just so he could do the same thing again and again, eyes scrunching up in bliss as his hand continues to move up and down his length. his hand isn’t even close to what he wants to feel — your tight pussy sucking him in — but he settles for it, squeezing his palm around his shaft and thumbs his tip.

“ya see this, angel?” gojo chokes out a moan when he sees another notification of ‘i really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable’ and it was the exact opposite for him in this bathroom stall, really hoping this video would drive his point home, “s’all for you, f— fuck.”

the video is incoherent from then on, because it’s all too much for him, the strokes of his warm hand, the images of your body, the sensitivity of his cock. lewd noises of him jerking off and his whines echo throughout the restroom, cumming with a slack mouth and babbles of your name on his lips.

“fuck, fuck, fuckkk…” satoru can hardly care as his cum stains his shirt, leaving his cock in needy spurts that dribble down his hand as well, wishing he could see it against your skin instead of his own. the end of the video is messy and hasty that he doesn’t even think much as he sends it, but it’s not even halfway through the video before you’re sending a simple “please come back, now.” and his heart jumps in his chest.

gojo simply shoots a quick text to geto, asking him to help him pack his things because he will definitely not be returning.

you’re so glad you don’t have any more classes for the day, too, because all you can think about now is satoru and his cock, blessed again with the sight of him losing himself in pleasure except now, he knew. your hands aren’t hesitant in reaching down to your core, lingerie already soaked through as you watch the short two minute video over and over as you lazily play with your clit with your eyes trained on his hand. it’s so hypnotising you don’t realise gojo’s already home, standing at your room door with his bulge showing through his pants and sweat lining his brow.

“did you run here?” you sit up, hands covering your chest instinctively. he shakes his head and you remove them.

“you know the bus will take too long, baby.”

you ignore the flutter of your heart and pussy when you know he says the pet name with intent, now, not in a joking or teasing manner. you want to hear it more.

“was that really an accident?”

you’re kneeling on your bed now, and gojo just wants to shut you up and make you take back all your apologies.

“it was!” you counter, not minding how your roommate slips his hand around your waist and is just inches from you, “but…”

gojo never truly loses his personality even when he’s hot and bothered, “but what, princess?”

that’s new.

you grin at his chivalry even when you’ve got your chest all vulnerable like this: he’s trying to break you with his eyes, the one thing that led you to choose baby blue in the first place. you win when his eyes flit down to your tits.

“but you still ended up sending me a video of you jerking off — hardly any decorum, huh, satoru?”

gojo rolls his eyes, hands trailing up your body and coming to rest at your boobs, “yeah. but you love it.”

that’s all he says before he dips down and takes a nipple into his mouth, leaving your hands to tangle in his hair as your back arches to give him more space. he’s so hungry, swirling his tongue around your hardened bud as he kneads the other, eyes occasionally meeting yours from your chest.

“d’you like the vid?” his speech is muffled.

“like it? i loved it—” a soft moan leaves you, “didn’t know you were such a sub, though.”

gojo laughs into your skin and you’re obsessed with the feeling, challenging him when he reaches your eyes again with a glint in his eyes.

“oh, you’re in for it, baby.” gojo grins, capturing your lips and feeling so free now that everything’s out in the open. he’s finally able to feel your lips on his, so soft and slow, making him go crazy from such a simple gesture. gojo pushes you gently onto your bed, kissing down your exposed body before coming to your pelvis, playing with the hem of the underwear.

“gotta thank this little guy for solving our problems.”

“please do not call my lingerie ‘little guy’,” you giggle, letting him remove the garment and you preen at the praise he gives your pussy.

“s’wet… is this all for me?” gojo shamelessly inhales your essence, the sight of him between your legs enough to make anyone cum.

“yeah…” it’s a whisper when you say it, breathless and impatient yet loving the way he treats you. “i get wet only for you, ‘toru.”

gojo moans at that, eyes rolling back momentarily before his mouth descends on your pussy and you think you can hear a brief hymn of hallelujah. he savours your cunt slowly, licking lazy stripes up and down your pussy and your moans match them — soft, drawn out — hands playing seamlessly with his hair. gojo’s startling baby blues meet you for a second and he smiles softly before he places a kiss to your clit.

a twitch, and satoru fully shows his expertise in the next second, eating you out like he was a starved man and you were the last meal on earth. your roommate sucks on your clit, groaning into your core as he feels your thighs close in around his head and your heels dig into his back. he switches easily to your hole, driving his tongue into the leaking entrance and his nose starts to nudge at your nub.

“satoru— s-shit!” your moans increase in volume, hands pulling harshly at his locks. “feel s’good—”

“yeah?” he speaks into your cunt, slurping up your juices time and time again until his jaw aches. your pussy just tastes so sweet that it’s got him grinding into the bed, too, relieving his cock with desperation. “was made just to eat you out, sweetness.”

“doing so well— are you close?” it was difficult to hold on when satoru was talking to you like that and devouring you so good, thumb now playing with your folds while his tongue focuses primarily on your clit again. he flicks at it and his eyes look at you for your answer, merely nodding pathetically as his abuse on your cunt is relentless. gojo would love to memorise the way you clench around his thumb, but he’s too fixated on your whines before you cum with a cry of his name.

“o—oh fuck— ‘t-toru! oh my goddd…” his mouth never stops moving even when your thighs tremble around his head and your body convulses, clit throbbing in his mouth and your mewls reaching the highest heavens.

gojo grins into your cunt, making sure you watch him as he collects all your juices onto his tongue, giving your pussy one last satisfied lick before he sits up, making quick work of his pants and he shows you how to not have one ounce of decorum like you commented on earlier—

because as he pumps the cock you saw just minutes ago, you tongue darts out to lick your lips unknowingly. as he drags the tip along your folds, you’re spreading your legs wider for him. as he slaps his cock along your cunt, your hips are moving on their own accord to feel more of him.

“filthy girl,” gojo leans in to your face, “talkin’ bout me having decorum. you should see yourself.”

you laugh, bringing him in for a brief kiss. you liked that you still could banter in times like this.

“i’ll admit i never had it, so it would b-be—” gojo slips just the tip in and you’re cut off, a choked whimper leaving you, “hypocritical to criticise you.”

“ya think?” gojo wiggles his hips gently, sinking into you and the squeeze of your cunt around his cock is too perfect, too tight. his own whines leave him as he eases inch by inch into you before you’re confessing.

“y’know after seeing you jerk off that day— f-fuck, in your room,” you mumble, wrapping your legs around his middle that causes him to moan, “i wanted nothing more than to help you clean up, cum and all.”

gojo chuckles breathlessly, you two have been pining for months? but he recovers just as quickly, bottoming out with a loud sigh. he lets your hands travel over his face, holding it in your palms.

“y-yeah? why didn’t you?”

“wasn’t sure if you liked me—” a whine cuts through your words as he takes the first slam into you.

“i’ll make sure you know how much i like you, baby, ‘kay?” gojo manages to get out before his hips moves into you, no longer able to hold conversation with the way your cunt sucks him in. he’s determined now, to show you how someone like you had a hold on him so strong that he was willing to pick up dirty clothes and take time out of his day to collect groceries. it’s not long before your roommate is able to pick up a pace, loving the way you trap him with your legs as his hips piston in and out of you.

the room is so much more stuffy, now, filled with the scent of sweat and sex as his pelvis meets your ass in timed thrusts. it was so filthy, too, cum from your previous orgasm aiding him as lube and sticking to his pubes from how much you were dripping.

“y-yeah— fuck me like how you’ve been wanting to, ‘toru—” you mumble out softly, already drunk on his cock. you swear you can feel the veins and his cockhead twitch at that, the sounds of the other filling your ears.

“you take me so, so well, baby,” gojo praises, face buried in your neck as he gives you kisses there, mind blank except for how you’re so wet that your arousal is spurting everywhere each time he comes up to the hilt in you, “taking my cock and squeezing me s’good.”

little pants leave you at the affirmations, and like always, gojo is a fast learner, already knowing your sweet spots when a hand sneaks down to rub at your clit. the circles go in time with his thrusts, and before then, you’re jerking in his arms, nails scratching at his back as your pussy spasms on his cock. gojo groans into your skin, hips still ramming into you before the clench of your cunt prompts him to cum as well.

“right there— s-shit!” you’re moaning when you can feel his cum seeping into you, the exact thing you’re imagining feeling even better as he loads you up, but you don’t have time to react when gojo flips you over. a quick glance to his face tells you he’s intoxicated on your pussy, pressing down on your arch.

“can you handle— another load— baby?” it comes out in between his thrusts, the way he begs to cum in you again and you’re never one to deny when you’ve wanted this for the longest time. you let satoru use you, face buried in the sheets below you while his thrusts start to turn sloppy. he’s not giving one fuck that he’s cummed the fastest he’s ever done before and how he’s going to do it again, but it’s inevitable when he’s got your cunt wrapped around him.

“y— yes, satoru— want you to fill me up, p-please—” it all overloads him: the way his cock disappears into your hole, the residual cum from earlier sticking to your ass and his pelvis, that white ring of semen around the base of his dick, your desperate pleas and cries.

it only takes one stroke of his hand on your clit before you’re cumming so fast again together with him, fingers grasping at the sheets as your pussy flutters around his length and you get his second load in return. it’s so viscous and hot, spilling into your hole. it’s so much, body going limp against satoru’s messy thrusts as he continues to rut into you, stilling finally when he starts to cramp in his thighs.

“attagirl, that’s it, sweetness,” gojo gasps out from behind you, staying locked in you as his cock spurts out the last bits of his cum. he presses a small kiss to your shoulder, asking softly into your skin if you were okay.

“more than okay—” a small mewl is heard when gojo pulls out slowly, sighing to himself upon seeing the way your cunt push out his cum naturally. there’s so much of it, spilling onto the sheets, but before he can take it upon himself to plug two fingers into your entrance, you’re dragging him to lie properly on the bed—

“not done?” your roommate laughs, a hand playing with your neck and the hickeys he’s left there.

you shake your head, noting how satoru’s cock is still sensitive when your hand closes around it, and you finally can see gojo in all of his glory when your tongue kitten licks at his tip and a shiver travels through his body. his hooded eyes and the buck of his hips are all you need to continue.

“i haven’t told you how much i like you, ‘toru. should i show you now?”

somewhere on your dresser, there’s several messages from your girls, but you’re too preoccupied with satoru’s cock in your mouth to notice — ah, well, you’d update them later.

[6:23pm, operation get (y/n) a partner]: photo attached (4)

@(y/n) girl where is your pic !!!! show us that cute baby blue lingerie pleaseee!!

[0mg-bird]

Look Of Love~ S. Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary: All the moments you had to tell him exactly how you feel, and yet it comes down to this one, where the words ‘I love you’ might save his life.

Warnings: Violence, angst, Reid being a kicked puppy, blood, tw! Tobias Hankel!

Season 2 Reid x Fem! Agent! Reader

Everything was going fine, wasn’t it? Well, about as fine as you can consider a case about a serial killer who believes he’s doing the work of God, to go.

But he was fine.

And that was what made things fine.

Well, until the whole thing crumbled and there was a sharp pain in your lungs that isn’t about to cease. JJ and Spencer left to find the location of Tobias Hankel’s home, that was about an hour ago. You had watched as he holstered his gun, preparing to get into the car and leave you.

“You’re still not coming with me.” He says towards your silent pining.

“Spence.” You argue, though he just turns to look at you amused.

“We’re just going to talk to this guy, he’s just a witness. They need you here.” He reasons, reassuring you with a smile.

His words always seemed to calm you down, it’s like magic, the Reid effect. So you nodded and rolled your eyes as he tucked your hair behind your ears, a quirk he’s always done because he knows how much you hate your pointy ears.

There was no argument, you and Spencer were the closest ones out of the rest. It’s a kind of peaceful friendship, the two of you just played in harmony so well. He knew all of your secrets, you knew almost all of his, and you weren’t shy to tug on his arm or secretly join your hand in his under the table during meetings. Spencer was more than okay with it, learning that’s just how you act with people you are comfortable with.

And while the two of you were convinced it wasn’t a relationship the team would bat an eye at, your friends often had secret discussions in regard to you.

“This whole ‘friendship’ scheme…do they really buy it?” Emily asked one morning as she watched you take a drink of coffee and cringe at the too sweet taste, then give it to Reid and take the one he had been drinking.

Reid isn’t a fan of germs.

But in his mind, yours aren’t so bad.

“Oh no, they’re still convinced they’re just close friends.” Morgan chuckled, answering the woman’s question.

“She loves him.” JJ added in a matter of fact tone. “It’s honestly a little sad…she doesn’t want to admit it out loud.”

“Why?” Emily’s brows furrow.

“Afraid she’ll ruin the friendship.” Morgan simply says.

At that, the female agent scoffs. “Reid’s obviously in love with her, no friend looks at another friend that way.”

They watch intently at the eye contact being shared, and how expressions change when Reid walks away from you.

“They look like kicked puppies.” JJ frowns. “Morgan, go talk to him, I can’t stand this anymore.”

The man looks at her in confusion. “And say what? I can’t just tell a man how he feels.”

Emily argues. “Reid doesn’t know what he feels, he’s confused, put him out of his misery.”

As Morgan goes to open his mouth, Hotch appears with his signature scowl and the conversation was dropped and done with.

Though it was never forgotten.

The entire team saw the lovesickness between the two of you…and yet, you couldn’t fix it.

There were plenty of times you could have confessed, many perfect moments that were ruined by your fear of the feeling not being mutual.

And after a while, the words seemed to try and escape on their own accord. Like in the moment he goes to leave and you call to him one last time.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit?” He said, scanning your face intently like he always seemed to do.

“Yeah, see you soon, I lo-”

Your heart beats loudly in your ears and you seal your lips, feeling betrayed by your own words. He looks at you, puzzled, then leaves.

You should have told him.

You should have just told him.

Because now, gun drawn, searching Hankel’s house, Spencer is no where to be found.

JJ was in the barn out back, looking rather disheveled and scared when she was found, but she was safe and unharmed and Spencer was gone.

“We thought he was just a witness, I swear. Then Reid figured out he was the UnSub and...” JJ said to you over and over, feeling guilt in her bones, blaming herself for his abduction. She swore that she should’ve stayed with him, not split up like he said to. She means well…you just can’t think straight.

The team stayed inside the house overnight, working off of minimal hours of sleep, and daybreak came and you were sitting on the couch with your head in your hands, thinking of some plan on how you were going to find him.

“Hey.” Penelope greeted as you walk into the room with a multitude of computers she was searching for any clues.

“Hey.” You sigh, leaning on the desk beside her. “Anything yet?”

She shakes her head. “No, sweet pea.”

You watch the videos of war and destruction on the screens, the right kind of fuel for a split personality maniac like Hankle.

“If Tobias is living as three people, and his father is the one that’s the evil side of his brain, then I think that’s who has taken Reid. We’ve been thinking like Tobias, we need to be thinking like his dad, right?” You question, turning to Morgan as he walks into the room.

He nods. “It’s a good idea, yeah.”

Suddenly, the computer screens in front of the three of you go black.

“What happened?” Morgan asks.

“I don’t know…” Penelope answers…

She tries to get the screens back up, but to all of your surprise, the live stream that comes on is something more horrific than what you were previously watching.

“Spencer.” The name leaves you as well as all the air in your lungs.

There he was, your pretty boy, sat in a chair, bloody and bruised and out of it.

Morgan yells for the others, but you’re frozen in place.

“Track him, Pen.” You say in a panic.

“I can’t, Hankle is only streaming this to his home computer.” She says in disbelief.

“What do you mean?” You worry. “This is some kind of joke? This is just for us to see?”

She nods slowly.

The team watches closely, listening to the way Hankle forces Reid to choose an innocent couple to get murdered.

You seriously think you’re going to be sick.

He struggles on the screen, choosing someone to be spared torture instead.

And as fast as he was in front of you, he’s gone from the live feed even faster. You stare at the blank screen with red eyes, then leave the room completely.

A full day wasted, you weren’t close enough to find him. You go back to couch and prepare for another sleepless night.

~~

At some point, you must’ve fallen asleep, because you wake with a start at the feeling of something being different.

You make your way to the computer room where everyone is hunched over, looking at a map Penelope brings up.

“Good, you got some sleep.” Hotch says, barely sparing you a glance as you enter.

“What’s going on?” You ask, leaning into Morgan’s side.

“We think we found him.” He says to you, watching your eyes widen.

“What?” Your voice cracks and any lingering feeling of sleep is gone.

“We’re heading out in five.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Tying your hair up and rubbing your face, you pull a kevlar vest on and cinch the velcro shut. The entire car ride to the little shack, you’re twitching.

Everyone shares a look, because the way you act now is the whole reason they didn’t wake you when the live feed was back up. If you were to watch the way Reid was being beaten, Gideon isn’t sure you could handle it.

The team storms the shack, and you try hard not to lose hope when you come up empty handed yet again.

You curse to yourself. “They were here.”

“They couldn’t have gotten far, they’re on foot.” Hotch nods, immediately turning back out to search the cemetery you were in.

On high alert, you search through the dark, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“We’re gonna find him.” Morgan promises, but you can’t focus on anything besides locating Reid.

Closer and closer, you can almost feel it in your bones, the way your instincts guid you in a direction.

The only thing that halts your step is the sound of a single gun shot.

No.

No, it wasn’t going to end like this. It couldn’t.

Quickly, you head to that noise with your partners following after you.

“Spencer!” You shout, voice raw. “Spence?”

He looks up from Tobias’ body, and it’s like the entire world stops spinning. He’s there, he’s alive, he’s breathing ragged breaths and it’s all okay.

Hotch is there to help him to his feet, guiding him to stumble forward until he gains his footing. His head is dizzy and his hearing might be a little echoey but in a single moment, you’re there.

He grips onto you like you’re his lifeline, and you wrap your arms around him, stumbling to support his weight. A hand in his dirty hair, he feels your touch and knows you have to be real. That it’s your real form here that’s fighting to hold back tears and not the visions he’d see when he was out of it.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” You promise, knowing he might not realize he’s shaking and mumbling.

Pulling back just a few inches, he’s leaning his forehead to yours and breathing too quickly.

“Hey, hey.” You say softly, gently cupping his face. “Look at me, Spencer, look at me, sweetheart.”

He sees the deep look in your worried eyes and tries to form a sentence, but for once, his big brain can’t figure out what to say.

You do though.

And for once, you aren’t scared to say it. Actually, you’re afraid of not saying it.

“Spence.” You breathe out, he breathes in like your air is what matters. Your hand gently smooths blood soaked hair back, trying to get him to calm down.

He says your name in reassurance to himself.

“Hey, I’m right here.” You say. “I’m right here, and I love you.”

His brain fog seems to clear, his confused brown eyes are searching your face like they always tend to do, and those three words are making a small smile pull on his cracked lips.

~~

The hospital trip is almost too brief, just enough for him to get checked out and cleaned up, then you’re back on the plane to head home.

Curled in the corner of the small couch, you are barely asleep like the others, listening to music, head leaned against the wall. That’s before gentle hands pull your headphones off your ears.

Your eyes open and turn to see Spencer, sitting down beside you.

“Hey.” You whisper.

He sets the headphones down. “Hi.”

“You feel okay?” You ask, noticing the way he pulls your knees away from your chest so you sit normally.

He nods. “I feel about as good as someone who just got beat up would.”

You smile at his humor.

He tucks the hair framing your face, behind your ears, as always. “I was in and out of consciousness when you found me, I think, so I need to make sure that you actually said it and I wasn’t just lucid dreaming.”

You reach up to grab his hands. “Said what?”

He takes a deep breath. “That…you love me?”

His eyes are hopeful and wide, that’s what makes you nod.

“You weren’t imagining it…I love you, Spence.”

A smile forms on his face. “That’s good then.” He says, sure of himself.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

That when he flips your hold of his hands and joins one in his. “Because I love you too.”

There it was, the confession you’ve wanted for so long. There’s a moment of silence, then your free hand cups his jaw and he moves so close, your lips part just to breathe out slowly and then he’s there. Kissing you.

It’s soft, like you’ve been doing this for years.

He licks his lower lip after he pulls away, trying to savor the taste. Brushing your forehead to his for a second, you lean back and motion for him to follow. There’s no words that need to be spoken as he makes himself a bed in your lap, lying on his side that hurts the least and presses his face into your stomach.

Out like a light, the both of you.

Morgan nudges Emily a while later when they both wake, and he motions over to the lump on the couch. The woman grins.

“It took no interference at all.” She says.

Morgan smirks. “Nope, just a near death experience.”

Hotch scowls as usual. “We’re going to have to talk to HR about this.”

[astrxq]

cregan stark x wife!reader — prompt list 1.19 from my autumn party!

words: 3.1k

notes: ahhh first time writing "smut"… not sure how i did but let me know! requested

The soft morning light filtered through the heavy curtains of Winterfell's lord's chambers, casting a warm glow on the sleeping forms nestled beneath the furs. For once, the ever-vigilant Cregan Stark slumbered peacefully, his usually tense features relaxed in repose. You stirred beside him, your eyes fluttering open to take in the rare sight of your husband still abed at this hour.

A smile tugged at your lips as you remembered his return the previous evening. Cregan had been gone for nearly a fortnight, leading a hunting party deep into the Wolfswood. When he'd finally ridden through Winterfell's gates, you'd barely contained your relief and joy at seeing him safe and whole. Now, as you gazed upon his sleeping face, the worry that had gnawed at you during his absence melted away.

Cregan's arm was draped heavily across your waist, holding you close even in sleep. You shifted slightly, pressing yourself more firmly against his broad chest, relishing the warmth of his body after so many cold nights alone. As if sensing your movement, Cregan's grip tightened reflexively, drawing you even nearer.

You couldn't help but marvel at the contrast between this tender moment and the stern, unyielding man the rest of the world saw. The Lord of Winterfell, the Wolf of the North – titles that spoke of duty and strength, but revealed nothing of the gentle heart that beat beneath that gruff exterior. A heart you'd slowly come to know over the course of your marriage.

It hadn't been an easy path. When you'd first arrived at Winterfell as Cregan's bride, you'd found him distant and taciturn. The weight of his responsibilities seemed to leave little room for warmth or affection. But you were no shrinking violet, and you'd been determined to forge a true partnership with your new husband.

Memories of those early days flitted through your mind as you nestled against Cregan. The awkward silences at meals, the stilted conversations as you tried to find common ground. But there had been moments of connection too – a shared laugh over some courtly mishap, the quiet pride in his eyes when you'd handled a delicate diplomatic situation with grace.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the ice had begun to thaw between you. You'd discovered Cregan's dry wit, hidden beneath layers of Northern stoicism. He'd come to appreciate your quick mind and steady presence at his side. Trust had grown, tentative at first, then stronger with each passing moon.

And now, after moons of patience and perseverance, you found yourself here – wrapped in the arms of a man who had become more than just your lord husband. Cregan Stark had become your partner, your confidant, and yes, your love.

You nuzzled your face against his chest, inhaling deeply. The scent of pine and leather clung to him still, mingled with something uniquely Cregan that never failed to make your heart quicken. Your movement must have finally roused him, for you felt his chest rumble with a low groan as he began to stir.

"Good morrow, my lord," you murmured, a teasing lilt to your voice. "The sun is high in the sky. Have the fearsome Lord of Winterfell's habits grown lax in his old age?"

Cregan's eyes cracked open, still heavy with sleep. He regarded you for a long moment before a ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Watch who you're calling old, wife," he grumbled, but there was no heat in his words. His hand, calloused from years of wielding sword and bow, came up to cup your cheek. "The hunt was long, and the furs are warm. Can you blame a man for savoring a moment's peace?"

You leaned into his touch, your own hand coming to rest over his. "Never, my love. You've more than earned your rest." Your tone grew more serious as you added, "I've missed you, Cregan. These past days have been... long."

Something softened in Cregan's gaze at your words. He knew well the toll his absences took on you, just as you understood the duties that often called him away. It was a delicate balance you both strove to maintain – the needs of the North weighed against the needs of your own hearts.

"As have I, my dear," Cregan admitted, his voice rough with more than just sleep. "Each night in that cursed forest, I found myself longing for the warmth of our bed... and the even sweeter warmth of your embrace."

Such open declarations of feeling were still rare from your taciturn husband, and you treasured each one. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you surged forward, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that spoke volumes of your own longing.

Cregan responded immediately, one hand tangling in your hair as the other pulled you flush against him. The kiss deepened, months of practice allowing you to fit together perfectly. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, you couldn't help but grin.

"I fear I've grown quite spoiled, my lord," you said, affecting a dramatic tone. "A mere fortnight without you, and I've become positively needy. Whatever shall we do about this dreadful affliction?"

A low chuckle rumbled through Cregan's chest. "Is that so?" he asked, one eyebrow quirking upwards. "And what would my lady suggest as a cure for this... neediness?"

You pretended to consider the question, tapping your chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Well, I suppose there are ways for a husband to please his wife."

"Is that an order from my lady wife?" Cregan's voice had dropped to a husky whisper that sent a shiver down your spine.

"It is," you declared imperiously, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the breathless quality of your own voice. "Your lord wife demands attentio–"

Your words were cut off as Cregan's lips claimed yours once more. This kiss was deeper, hungrier, filled with all the longing of your time apart. His hands roamed your body, relearning curves and planes he knew as well as his own. You melted into his touch, your own fingers tracing the strong lines of his back and shoulders.

When you parted again, both panting slightly, you saw a familiar heat kindling in Cregan's grey eyes. "I believe," he growled, "that I have been remiss in my husbandly duties. Allow me to make amends, my lady."

Cregan's lips moved to your neck, kissing, biting and sucking every inch they could reach, his hand sneaking past the soft material of your sleep gown to explore the warmth of your skin beneath. A gasp escaped your lips as his mouth found the sensitive curve just beneath your ear, the sensation sending delightful shivers coursing through your body. You tilted your head back, allowing him more access, every gentle caress igniting a longing that had been stifled for far too long.

"Cregan," you breathed, your voice a mix of pleasure and urgency. "The day awaits us. We have responsibilities–"

His kisses trailed lower, warm and demanding, brushing against the soft fabric of your gown. "Let the day wait," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. "This is our moment. I’ve missed you, and I intend to make every second count."

You couldn't suppress the way your heart raced, his touch igniting a fire within you that only he could kindle. His fingers traced shaped on your waist as he hungrily licked a pack down to your chest. 

He groaned once he made contact with the clothing that separated him from your breasts, as if annoyed by it, he moved his hands to move the straps of the gown down, revealing what he'd been waiting for for so long. The cool air of the room brushed against your skin, heightening your awareness of his every touch.

“By the gods,” he breathed, his voice laced with reverence as he gazed at you. The look in his eyes made your cheeks flush, a mix of shyness and desire. It was a rare thing to see Cregan Stark so openly captivated, and the sight fueled a boldness within you.

“Do you like what you see, my lord?” you teased, your voice low and playful, though the way your heart raced betrayed the calm you tried to project.

Cregan’s gaze darkened with a mix of hunger and admiration. “More than you can imagine,” he replied, his fingers gliding over your skin, exploring every curve with a deliberate slowness that made you ache for more.

“Cregan…” The name slipped from your lips like a prayer, and you could see the way it affected him – his breath catching, his hands freezing in place. It was a heady power to know that you had such an effect on him.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your collarbone, sending a delightful shiver racing down your spine. “Every moment without you has been torture,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against your skin. “I swore to myself that I wouldn’t return to you empty-handed… that I’d come back bearing gifts worthy of my lady wife.”

You lifted your chin slightly, meeting his intense gaze. “And what gift do you bring me, my lord?” You smiled, a playful glint sparking in your eyes, hoping to tease him further.

“Let me show you,” he replied, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. 

His hands moved the cloth down your body, seeing his hungry eyes as if he was admiring every detail. Finally, the gown left your body, his hands tightening on your hips. He pulled, then, making you move down the bed so you were laid completely.

Eyes locking with yours, he grazed his body back, until his chin hit your thigh, he laid a soft kiss there, then another and another, each one trailing higher, awakening every nerve beneath his lips. 

You gasped, a tremor running through you at the unexpected sensation. Cregan’s warm breath danced across your skin, teasing and tantalizing, and you felt as if he was drawing out all the longing that had been buried deep within you during his absence.

“Every part of you deserves to be worshiped,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he continued his slow ascent. Your body responded instinctively, arching toward him, seeking more of his touch, more of the heat radiating from him.

His hands explored the delicate curves of your thighs, fingers brushing against the soft skin, sending delightful shivers through your body. “You’re exquisite,” he breathed, his gaze never wavering from yours, filled with a mix of admiration and hunger that made your heart race faster.

His hair had gone messy, from the sleeping and the kissing. You moved your hand to gently move it out of his face as he kissed your thighs, hands still holding onto your hips. At the feeling of your hand in his hair, he hitched up your knee, your leg now resting on his shoulder.

You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks, the intimacy of the moment electrifying. Cregan looked up at you from his place between your thighs, his eyes alight with mischief and desire, as if he relished every second spent worshiping you. The way he gazed at you made your heart flutter, igniting a yearning that had been building like a wildfire in your chest.

“Cregan…” you breathed, the sound barely above a whisper, an invitation and a plea all at once.

He didn’t respond with words; instead, he pressed his lips to the soft skin of your thigh, his warm breath sending tingling sensations coursing through you. You gripped the furs beneath you, fighting the urge to arch your back as he continued his tantalizing path, leaving a trail of kisses that made you dizzy with anticipation.

The world outside the chamber faded away, the responsibilities and duties of Winterfell slipping from your mind as you surrendered to the moment. Cregan’s hands were firm and confident, his thumbs tracing gentle patterns along your hips as he inched closer to your center, teasing you with his slow, deliberate movements.

“Do you know how long I dreamed of this?” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, the warmth of his breath against your skin causing you to shiver in response. “Each night in the forest, all I could think about was coming back to you.”

You could feel your pulse quicken at his words, the raw honesty behind them igniting a fire deep within you. “I wished for you every day, husband,” you confessed, your voice trembling with longing. “Every moment apart felt like an eternity.”

You tightened your hold on his hair when he reached your heat, the soft kiss placed on you made you shiver in pleasure, a sigh leaving your lips. Then, a slow lick of a stripe, he hummed as he tasted you.

The sensation rippled through you, sending a wave of heat pooling low in your belly. Cregan's mouth was warm and inviting, and as he savored your essence, you felt an exquisite blend of vulnerability and power in this intimate act. Every flick of his tongue ignited your senses, drawing forth soft gasps and shudders from your lips that filled the otherwise quiet chamber. You couldn't help but wonder how one man could wield such mastery over your body, and the thought alone sent a thrill of delight coursing through you.

“Cregan,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, the name tasting sweet on your tongue as you surrendered to the blissful sensations he was drawing from you. He paused for a brief moment, looking up at you, those grey eyes smoldering with heat and intent, and you could see the raw need etched in the lines of his face.

“Let me hear you,” he urged, his voice low and gravelly, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “Please.”

You nodded, emboldened by the warmth in his gaze, as his mouth resumed its heavenly ministrations. He teased you with lingering kisses, his warm breath contrasting deliciously against the coolness of the room, drawing you ever closer to the edge.

The world outside faded entirely, leaving only the warmth of the furs beneath you, the heady scent of pine, leather, and Cregan’s unique musk swirling around you. Every soft brush of his lips and each firm flick of his tongue was perfectly attuned to your body, as if he had learned your every secret through those long nights apart. He knew how to coax the sensations from you, his skilled movements igniting a fire that blazed brighter with every passing second.

“Please, don’t stop,” you gasped, your voice filled with urgency as you felt the building pressure within you, a tight coil of pleasure that threatened to unravel at any moment. “I–”

He took your words as a challenge, redoubling his efforts. Instinctively, his hand moved up to hold yours, fingers linked together as he used the other hand to pull you closer to his mouth. Cregan’s lips moved with fervor, the sounds of your pleasure spilling from your lips mixing with the soft sighs of his own desire. He consumed you, wholly and completely, until all you could focus on was the heat building between your legs and the way his hands gripped you possessively.

“More, Cregan,” you whimpered, your body arching instinctively toward him, seeking more of the ecstasy he was so expertly delivering. It was as if he was the sun, and you were drawn into his orbit, helplessly caught in the warmth of his desire.

“Your wish is my command,” he murmured against your skin, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to your core. He shifted his focus, his movements becoming more deliberate and focused as he traced delicate circles, pushing you higher and higher toward the precipice of bliss.

With each tantalizing stroke, you could feel the tension building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable. Your fingers clenched in his hair, urging him on, and Cregan obliged with a growl of delight that sent a rush of pleasure coursing through you.

“I need you,” you breathed, the words escaping before you could think better of them. You knew it was true; your body craved him, and the aching longing that had been stifled during his absence ignited into an all-consuming desire.

He lifted his head momentarily, the flush on his cheeks matching yours as he gazed at you, an intensity burning in his eyes. “You have me,” he promised, his voice low and thick with desire. “You will always have me.” And then he returned to his feast, working you higher, his focus unwavering.

With each teasing caress and each gentle suckle, you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, the world outside fading further as you surrendered completely to the sensations he was igniting within you. The exquisite pressure tightened and tightened until it finally burst, sending you spiraling over the edge into a world of blinding pleasure.

You cried out his name, the sound reverberating in the chamber as wave after wave of bliss washed over you. It was a moment of pure euphoria, your body trembling as you rode the heights of pleasure, feeling as if you could float away on the sheer intensity of it all.

Cregan held you close, his hands steady against your hips as he guided you through the peaks and valleys of your climax, whispering sweet nothings that only deepened your connection. He worshiped you even in the throes of your release, kissing away your cries as he drew you back down gently, his warmth wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

As the tremors of pleasure subsided, you gazed down at him, breathless and glowing, the room still echoing with the remnants of your bliss. Cregan's face radiated a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness, his lips curled into a smirk that made your heart flutter.

Afterwards, catching your breaths, you lay tangled together, a sheen of sweat cooling on your skin as you basked in the afterglow.

"I should go hunting more often," Cregan mused, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your bare shoulder, "if this is the welcome I can expect upon my return."

You swatted his chest playfully. "Don't you dare," you warned. "Or I shall be forced to accompany you on every expedition, propriety be damned."

Cregan's laugh was full and rich, a sound that never failed to warm your heart. "Now there's a terrifying thought. The great lords of the North, cowering before the fierce Lady Stark as she stalks through the Wolfswood."

You propped yourself up on one elbow, fixing him with a mock glare. "And why shouldn't they cower? I've tamed the fiercest wolf of all, have I not?"

Something shifted in Cregan's expression then, the mirth fading into something deeper, more intense. He reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness. "Aye," he said softly. "That you have, my love. That you have."

You settled back against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. The rest of the world could wait, you decided. For now, this moment was yours alone – you and Cregan, wrapped in the cocoon of your shared love, savoring a peace that had been long in the making.

[ryukatters]

drunk in love — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

⟡ summary: you walk gojo back to his dorm after a night of drinking

⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

⟡ content/warnings: major fluff, underage alcohol consumption, boyfailure gojo, gojo calls reader pretty, mutual pining, drunken confessions, kiss kiss fall in love

⟡ wc: 1.4k

Satoru’s never been great at holding his alcohol.

The first time he got drunk was in secret inside of Suguru’s dorm room, late at night to ensure that there weren’t any teachers (read: Yaga) lingering in the hallway past curfew. His teacher did always seem to have some sort of divine intuition whenever it came to Satoru’s antics.

He had taken one shot and subsequently spat it all out onto the floor.

Satoru’s gotten better at handling his liquor, but he’s still very much a lightweight. That isn’t enough to deter him from refusing any shots Shoko or Suguru throw his way though, which probably isn't a great idea seeing how wasted your friends were. Which is surprising, because they tend to be a little better at handling their alcohol than Satoru. Chalk it up to wanting to celebrate for making it to the end of the school year.

It’s you who’s left to play damage control, considering how you were the only one still standing as the rest of your friends were all passed out on the cold hardwood floor of Shoko’s dorm, aside from one other person who’s currently gripping your leg, staring up at you, pleading like a kicked puppy.

Satoru was just as annoying if not more so when intoxicated. He couldn’t possibly sleep on the cold, hard, wooden floors…

…which is how you end up walking Gojo back to his dorm room. Though walking would be a very generous term, seeing how he’s using you as a human crutch, leaning most of his weight onto you as you struggle to keep the two of you balanced.

You try to usher Gojo onto his bed gently, but the boy seems to be too out of his wits to even do that properly. He unceremoniously flops onto his bed with a thud, banging his head against the wall in the process.

“Owww,” he clutches his head, pouting.

“That’s what you get,” you laugh.

“You’re mean.”

“Mean? I brought you all the way back here when I could have just let you sleep on the floor. That sounds pretty nice to me.”

His bottom lip juts out even further, much to your amusement. His sunglasses are hanging off the bridge of his nose, lopsided. You reach out to place them on his nightstand. His warm hand envelops your wrist before you can draw back, and brings your hand to cup his cheek. Maybe it’s alcohol and your decreased inhibition, or maybe its your own volition, but you can’t find it in you to pull away. You stroke your thumb against his pale, plush cheek, admiring the dimple that likes to make itself known when he smiles, just like he is right now.

Satoru runs warm. You’d think for someone with such an icy appearance and a reputation for being a cold-blooded sorcerer, his body temperature would follow suit. Maybe it’s because that frigidness is Gojo, the strongest, the honored one, and all the epithets that have burdened his shoulders from the minute he was born. But here, with you, he’s just Satoru— a boy with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, who can’t shoot whiskey, and loves his friends endlessly.

“My head hurts,” he whines.

“Oh, you poor baby,” you faux coo, rubbing your hand against the sore spot that will definitely have a lump tomorrow. Satoru eats it up though, melting into your touch. He’s even clingier when he’s drunk, you realize. Cute, you might even add. But the thought leaves just as soon as it comes. You’re a lot less sober than you thought you were.

Gojo’s voice pulls you out of your drunken daze. “Can you kiss it better f’me?”

“What?”

“Can you kiss…kiss me instead? So it doesn’t hurt anymore?” He slurs.

“Satoru, you’re too drunk.”

“‘m not!” Whatever defense he has for himself fails as a hiccup escapes past his lips. For a second, you think he might fall asleep like this, leaning into you. But then his eyes snap back open with a determined glint.

“Wan’…wanna kiss youuu,” he closes his eyes and puckers his lips, waiting for you to close the gap.

“Satoru…”

Where do you even start? You thought you’d be okay ignoring the budding feeling in your chest that consumes you most days you’re with the white-haired sorcerer. Deflection is the only way you know how to avoid acknowledging whatever this was. And it’s been working, sort of. “You can’t kiss someone you don’t like.”

He pouts even harder at that. “I like someone! I like you,” he says adamantly. “Like, like-like you.”

“Like-like? What are we, in kindergarten?”

You try your best to redirect the conversation, you don’t think you’re ready to face the implications of the fact that one of your best friends has feelings for you. Mutual feelings, you might add— the same feelings that have been eating away at you for months now, and the same feelings you’ve elected to ignore.

He pouts for the umpteenth time tonight before he lets out a huff, falling back onto the mattress. He props himself up on a pillow, peering at you curiously. It’s almost like you can see the gears turn in his head when he smiles deviously, both of his freakishly long arms reaching out to wrap around your waist and bring you flush against him.

You can feel the hot puffs of his breath, and you will yourself to look at him. Satoru’s eyes have always been so easy to get lost in.

He breathes out your name, sickeningly sweet. “I really do like you. You’re so pretty and strong and smart— it drives me a little crazy.” Your head is spinning, and the innate urge to run like you’ve been doing all this time sparks through you, but the grip that Satoru has on you is too strong. “Want you to like me back, I’ll do anything,” he says honestly.

Gojo’s good at the chase, and you’re something he’s in for the long run. You can run and run until there’s nowhere else to go, until your legs refuse to carry you a step further. He’ll always be there to catch you.

His hand traces delicate patterns along the side of your neck, still a bit too far gone to notice how your breath hitches. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, I’ll get you a big house and we can live together forever. I’ll take care of you, do whatever you want. I’ll be so good to you. For you.”

You’re stunned into silence. Your heart is threatening to leap out of your chest. It melts when you look at Satoru, who’s looking at you with all the hope in the world. The moonlight seeping through the blinds of his window casts the most intricate waves of light, illuminating Satoru’s features perfectly.

Satoru thinks he’s holding the world in his arms right now. He’s preparing himself for rejection, but it’s alright, he thinks— because he’s good at everything he tries and he’s willing to try and try again and again for you, just for the chance to be yours.

“Tell me that again in the morning when you’re sober,” you whisper, as if you’re afraid someone else could hear you within the confines of Satoru’s room. Like the weight of your words were a secret you couldn’t bear to let anyone else in on, except for one person— your one and only.

You take a leap of faith. You plant your hands on his chest to steady yourself, placing a chaste kiss on Satoru’s forehead— a symbol of assurance of your love for him— something that’s been a part of you from the very moment you met him.

Satoru’s heart squeezes in anticipation. He hugs you even tighter, laughing at the yelp of surprise you let out. He has never felt as more of a winner than he does right now. “I’ll tell you everything sober or drunk,” he promises, unable to contain his giddiness as you (finally!) let him pepper kisses all over your face.

“Everything, as long as it’s with you.”

a/n: gojo can not handle hard liquor so he’s drunk off of some (shots of) smirnoff ice 😎

[aresrambles]

Mission Complete

logan howlett x fem!reader - in which you and the wolverine shack up in a shitty hotel after a mission. nsfw, afab terms, there's only one bed, 18+reader (always), “kid”, pining!logan, pining!reader (3911 words)

a/n: just one night with this man... just one fucking night. also yes, first wolvie post but defo not the last.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Logan pauses in the doorway, his gaze lingering on the double bed crammed into the corner of your shared hotel room. He steps inside, trying to appear nonchalant, but his eyes dart around, searching for an alternative—a sofa, a chair, hell, even a futon. Nothing. He sighs heavily, dropping his bag with a thud, his mind racing through the options. Sharing a bed with you? That’s out of the damn question. He could sleep on the floor, or better yet, maybe there’s another room available. Spending the night with you would be some sick kind of torture; he can’t restrain himself that long.

If you notice his hesitation, you don’t show it. You slip past him with a casual brush of the shoulder, making a beeline for the bathroom. “Dibs on the shower!” you call out, rummaging through your backpack for what he figures must be a change of clothes. Logan grunts in response.

“This mission wasn’t even that bad,” you continue, your voice muffled as you dig deeper into your bag. “We’re leaving early tomorrow, so you should probably shower tonight too. Don’t need you slowing us down in the morning, old man.”

Logan doesn’t dignify your jab with a response. Instead, he turns on his heel and heads back out, letting the door click shut behind him. He’s got a better chance of dealing with the front desk than with sharing that bed. He fishes out a cigar, biting down on it as he stalks down the stairs, striking a match as he goes. The no-smoking signs? They might as well be invisible to him. If they didn’t notice him before, they’d sure as hell notice the smoke.

When he reaches the lobby, it’s empty. Logan rings the bell—once, twice.

“Hello?”

Silence. He rings the bell again, harder this time.

“Hello? Anybody here? I was just—oh, for fuck’s sake.”

His eyes land on a neat little sign perched on the desk: ‘Front desk will be available again from 7:30 a.m. tomorrow.’

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, he thinks, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke in frustration. What if there’s an emergency? What are people supposed to do, wait until morning?

Logan growls under his breath, stubbing out the cigar on the polished wood of the counter, leaving a smoldering mark as a parting gift. He storms back up the stairs, mentally preparing himself for a night on the hard floor. It could be worse, he muses, but only just.

Logan swings open the door to a piercing shriek, slamming it shut almost as quickly as he’d opened it, his hand still gripping the doorknob with a trembling force. Okay, it could definitely be worse, he thinks, his mind spinning.

Inside, you scramble to cover yourself, your heart racing as you realize what just happened. “Seriously? Do you not knock?” you shout, your voice laced with a mix of panic and humiliation. Your face burns as you try to process the situation, the mortification almost too much to bear. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” you mutter under your breath, hurriedly yanking on the oversized t-shirt you had planned to sleep in, your hands fumbling in haste.

“Why didn’t you change in the bathroom?” Logan shoots back, voice gruff, trying to mask his own flustered state. He grinds out his cigar underfoot, his mind replaying the moment he just witnessed, over and over. His ears burn hot, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t shake the image of you—shirt halfway over your head, bare and vulnerable, your skin still glistening from the shower. Fuck. He looks down, his jeans now uncomfortably tight, the ache in his groin a harsh reminder of why sharing a bed with you is a terrible idea. He can barely keep himself together when you’re fully dressed, let alone in a state like that.

You take a moment to steady your breathing, trying to push the embarrassment down. “You can… you can come in now,” you stammer, your back turned to the door as you pretend to be engrossed in your phone, anything to avoid facing him.

Logan doesn’t reply. He pushes the door open and slips inside, his movements quick and stiff as he heads straight for the bathroom, needing to put some distance between you both. The door closes behind him, and you let out a groan, burying your face in your hands. This moment was going to haunt you for a very long time.

So, you had a little crush on Logan. No big deal—just a harmless, schoolgirl crush. At least, that’s what you told yourself. But you couldn’t deny that you and Logan made a damn good team. So good, in fact, that the Professor had been pairing you two up for missions more often than not lately. And that silly, schoolgirl crush? It had started to grow into something much harder to ignore.

Your stomach churns as you roll over onto the bed, face buried in the pillows. It’s hard to admit, but part of you got a little turned on by what just happened. The searing embarrassment of having your body on display like that for the man who’d starred in so many of your late-night fantasies… It was almost too much to handle. You sigh deeply, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks again.

But then reality sets in. Logan didn’t feel the same way—how could he? The way he bolted for the bathroom was proof enough. Why would someone like him ever be interested in you? You’ve heard the stories about Logan’s past flames, women who were nothing short of extraordinary. And here you are, just another teammate, a brief moment of awkwardness quickly forgotten.

You try to push the thoughts away, deciding it’s best to just turn in for the night. There’ll be plenty of time to torture yourself with these thoughts later. For now, sleep is the only escape from the swirling mess in your head.

It was true—Logan couldn’t get away fast enough, but not for the reasons you thought. As he stood under the scorching spray of the shower, letting the steaming water cascade over his body, his eyes remained fixed on the tiles beneath his feet. His regenerative abilities could heal wounds and stitch him back together, but they never quite banished the constant ache that clung to his bones, a dull throb that even the hot water could only barely soothe. But the ache in his abdomen? That was something else entirely.

Logan couldn’t shake the image burned into his mind, the sight of you, bare and beautiful, just moments ago. He gritted his teeth, his thoughts straying where they shouldn’t. How would those perfect tits look under the water with him, droplets sliding down your skin while he took you against the shower wall? Would you mewl softly, or would you gasp, nails digging into his back? Would you cling to him, or would your legs give out, collapsing into his arms?

He let out a rough grunt, twisting the shower knob to ice-cold in an attempt to snap himself out of it. The icy blast hit him hard, but he welcomed it, hoping it might douse the fire in his veins. He could touch himself—hell, the thought crossed his mind more than once—but not with you just outside, not when you were so close. It felt wrong, too damn wrong.

The cold water eventually worked its magic, easing the unbearable tension that had built up inside him, but it took nearly an hour to do so. Finally, with a heavy sigh, Logan stepped out of the shower, drying off and pulling on a pair of sweatpants. As he looked at his reflection in the fogged-up mirror, he knew one thing for certain: this was going to be a long, restless night.

Logan steps out of the bathroom to find you huddled on the floor, passed out in a tangled mess of blankets. He rolls his eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he carefully scoops you up and lays you down on the bed.

“I don’t need th’ bed,” you mumble, your voice so soft he almost misses it. He huffs through his nose, a fond smile creeping onto his face. “Where else you gonna sleep?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. You blink sleepily, trying to focus as the darkness settles around you, the only sound the gentle rustling of sheets as he adjusts you on the bed.

“Sorry about earlier,” he adds, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

You don’t reply, too embarrassed to form words. Instead, you turn your face away, hoping he won’t notice the flush of heat creeping up your cheeks. But in the stillness of the night, it feels like every little movement, every breath, is amplified.

“I don’t want you to sleep on the floor,” you finally confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “There’s space for both of us.” The words hang in the air, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of how close Logan is to you. You can almost feel the warmth of his breath against your face, the proximity making your heart race. But then, just as suddenly, he shifts away, the moment passing like a whisper in the dark.

It’s silent for some time, like he’s thinking. You almost speak up again but he beats you to it, just as you part your lips.

“Scoot up, kid,” he says, his voice gruff but not unkind.

You do as he says, moving over to make room, your pulse still thrumming in your ears. Logan settles in beside you, and the bed dips slightly under his weight. The space between you feels impossibly small, yet you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

Despite his shower, the faint smell of cigars still lingers in the air. It’s oddly comforting, grounding you in the surreal reality of the moment. You take a deep breath, trying to steady the wild thoughts racing through your mind. “Good night Logan,” you murmur, hoping that sleep will come quickly and spare you from the ache of wanting what you can’t have—craving the feel of his strong arms around you, the way his hands might tighten against your throat, and the sound of his voice purring dark promises in your ear.

“G’night,” he replies, his voice a low rumble as he turns away, leaving you back to back.

Logan is in Hell.

He can feel your warmth through the thin gap between you, every soft breath you take a reminder of just how close you are. His mouth had agreed before his mind could stop him, and now he’s paying the price. Lying next to you, with your soft body and those innocent eyes that see right through him, is torture. He wonders if there’s still time to slink back into that pile of blankets on the floor.

His muscles tense as he tries to push down the desire clawing at him, the instinct to reach out and pull you close nearly overwhelming. The scent of your skin, the way you whispered his name—everything about you is a test of his control. Logan knows he’s walking a fine line, and the longer he stays here, the harder it gets to keep himself in check.

His fists clench under the covers, every muscle in his body taut with tension. Logan can hear your soft, rhythmic breathing, the quiet rustle of sheets as you shift slightly beside him. The scent of your skin lingering in the air is really what’s holding him hostage. He tries to focus on anything else, but all he can think about is how close you are—how easy it would be to reach out and just touch you.

You lie there, eyes wide open, staring into the darkness. The silence of the room is thick, almost suffocating, but you know you’re not the only one awake. You can feel it- an awareness that runs deeper than simple intuition. All those missions together, all those nights spent side by side—you’ve learned to read him in ways that go beyond words.

Without needing to glance back, you know Logan Howlett is still awake. It’s as if his presence hums in the air between you, a silent energy that’s becoming increasingly impossible to ignore. There’s a tension there, a subtle shift in the way he breathes, the way he holds himself so still, as if he’s trying not to disturb the fragile peace of the night. But you can sense it: something’s bothering him.

You wonder if it’s the same turmoil that’s been gnawing at you, the same restless desire that has kept you on edge ever since you laid down beside him. The thought of Logan feeling the same way sends a shiver through you. It’s a strange kind of comfort, knowing that you might not be alone in this.

But then again, the Wolverine is a man of secrets, you know him well, better than most, but not as well as you’d like. Not in the ways that matter most right now. And yet, lying there in the dark, with only your thoughts and the steady rhythm of his breathing to keep you company, you can’t help but wonder if the walls he’s built around himself are cracking, just as yours are.

You can’t take it anymore. Tentatively, you let your hand drift to the space between you, your fingers brushing against his side. Logan stiffens at the contact, a sharp intake of breath the only sound in the darkness. Emboldened by his reaction, you let your hand slide further, tracing the hard lines of his abdomen. You’re on fire, body moving on its own accord. This wasn’t you, it couldn’t be.

“Darlin’, you don’t know what you’re startin’,” Logan growls, his voice thick with warning and something else that you couldn’t quite identify yet.

But you do know. You know exactly what you want, and you’re tired of pretending otherwise. You turn onto your side, pressing your body against his back, your breath hot against his neck.

“I don’t know. Maybe I do,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly with anticipation.

Logan turns to you with a gentleness that catches you off guard, his hand sliding to your waist with a tenderness that feels almost reverent. He pulls you close, but it’s not with the raw urgency you expected. Instead, it’s slow, deliberate, as though he’s holding himself back by a thread. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and intense, searching for something, perhaps a final permission.

It’s you that closes the gap. The pressure of his lips against yours is gentle, but the undercurrent of need is undeniable, simmering just beneath the surface. You can feel the restraint in every brush of his lips, every measured caress, and it only makes you clench tighter.

Logan’s hands begin to roam, exploring your body with a hunger that has clearly been held back for far too long. He takes his time, fingers tracing every curve, every dip, as if memorizing the feel of you beneath his touch. His lips leave yours to trail down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he murmurs, “This is all I could think about out there, in the woods… how you’d feel, how you’d taste.”

His words send a rush of heat through you, a deep flush spreading across your skin. His hands slide up your thighs, teasing the edge of your shirt before slipping underneath, the warmth of his touch igniting every nerve. His fingers trace lazy circles on your skin, his lips moving down your collarbone, and you realize with a start that you’re trembling beneath him.

You find yourself arching into his touch, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Logan’s mouth curls into a smile against your skin, sensing your desperation. “‘s that what you want, darlin’?” he murmurs, his voice a low growl that vibrates against your skin, making you shiver. “You want me to take you apart, piece by piece?”

You nod, breathless, your hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you silently plead for him to stop teasing. “Please, Logan,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need. “Please…”

He chuckles softly against your skin, a dark, throaty sound that sends another wave of heat through you. Logan pulls back, his gaze heavy with desire as he sits up. You watch, breathless, as he reaches for the hem of his vest, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. The sight of his bare chest visible only by the flecks of moonlight, muscles rippling beneath his skin, takes your breath away (though this wouldn’t be the first time). You reach out, your fingers brushing against his chest, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch.

Logan watches you with dark, hungry eyes as he reaches for the waistband of his pants, removing them with deliberate slowness. He seems to take pleasure in the way your breath catches, in the way your gaze follows every movement as he slides them down, revealing the full, impressive length of his dick. Logan is big. It’s not just long, but it’s fucking big. Veiny, girthy and leaking precum at the tip, you can’t help but instinctively bite your lip.

The sight of him, hard and ready, makes your pussy ache for him in a way that’s almost painful. “Logan… please,” you whisper again, your voice barely more than a breath as you look up at him through your lashes.

His gaze darkens, a satisfied smile curling at the corners of his mouth as he finally gives in, his hands moving with purpose as he strips you of your t-shirt. The moment your body is fully exposed to him, Logan pauses, his eyes raking over you with a possessive hunger that makes your heart skip a beat. He takes you in, every inch of you, committing the contours of your body to memory.

When he finally positions himself between your legs, you’re trembling with anticipation, your body aching for him. But Logan doesn’t rush. He takes his time, guiding himself to your entrance, the head of his cock brushing against your wetness before he pulls your panties to the side. He watches your face, his gaze dark and intense, as he teases you, pushing just the tip inside before pulling back. Bastard.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice rough but laced with tenderness, his lips brushing against your ear. “Because once I start, I can assure you; there’s no going back.”

You nod, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel him inside you. “I need you inside me.” you whisper, your voice heavy with desire.

Logan growls low in his throat, and finally, mercifully, he pushes inside you, filling you with a slow, deliberate thrust that makes you gasp. The sensation is overwhelming, the stretch and fullness making your head spin as he sinks deeper, inch by inch, until he’s buried to the hilt. He pauses, letting you adjust, his lips brushing yours in a soft, almost reverent kiss.

Then he begins to move, each thrust deep and powerful, driving you both closer to the edge with every stroke. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he moves inside you, his gaze locked on yours as if he’s taking in every expression, every moan, every gasp.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low, sending a shiver down your spine. You do, your eyes meeting his in a drunken haze. You moan, your body trembling beneath him, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming. Every thrust, every movement, is perfectly timed, his body attuned to yours in a way that almost didn’t feel real.

“Logan,” you breathe, your voice trembling with need. “It’s so… much.”

He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “I know, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice full of rough affection. “But you can take it,” He spits.

The praise, the way he’s looking at you, it all builds the tension inside you to a fever pitch. His gaze never wavers, holding yours as he moves deeper, harder. You can’t help the soft whimpers that escape your lips, your body tightening around him with each powerful stroke. Logan’s grip on your hips tightens, and he groans, his eyes darkening further as he watches you come undone beneath him.

“Don’t hold back,” he growls, his voice full of animalistic need. “Let me see you, I want it all.”

“Logan… I—” The words catch in your throat as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, your body arching beneath him.

He growls your name, a primal sound full of need, as he moves faster, harder, both you and Logan knew you were close.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his voice ragged, his gaze locked on yours.

And you do. With a cry, you shatter around him, the pleasure crashing over you like a wave, your body convulsing with the force of it. Logan follows you over the edge, his own release tearing through him as he groans your name.

When it’s over, Logan collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. The room is quiet now, the air thick with the scent of sweat and satisfaction. You nestle against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. The tension that had built up between you over the past few days finally snapped, and here you both are, tangled in the aftermath.

You shift beside him, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat. He turns his head to look at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes—a hint of unease, maybe even regret. “You sure this was okay?” His voice is rough, laced with concern, and that old nickname hangs in the air like a habit he can’t break. “Kid.”

You meet his gaze, holding it, making sure he sees you clearly. “Logan,” you say, your voice steady, “I’m not a kid anymore. You need to stop treating me like one.”

He exhales, a long, controlled breath, as if he’s trying to push down everything he’s feeling. “I just don’t want to hurt you,” he admits, the words heavy.

A small, wry smile tugs at your lips as you prop yourself up on your elbow, looking down at him. “You’re not taking advantage of me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Your tone is straightforward, cutting through his doubts. “I wanted this as much as you did. I think, maybe even more…” You trail off.

He looks away, eyes flicking back to the ceiling, his hand finding its way to your back, fingers brushing your skin in a gesture that feels almost hesitant. “I’ve done things... seen things. Sometimes I’m not sure what’s right anymore.”

You lean down, pressing a kiss to his lips, lingering just long enough to make sure he feels it, really feels it. When you pull back, you hold his gaze, your voice low but firm. “I know what I’m getting into.”

He’s quiet, his hand tightening on your back just a little, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on. He doesn’t say anything else, just pulls you closer, holding you like you’re the one solid thing in a world that’s always shifting beneath his feet.

[cera-writes]

Hi! So I recently got into X Men again after watching Deadpool & Wolverine and by god do I love Gambit! I found your blog and your stuff for him is so good! I do have a request for you if you don’t mind. Could I please get a spicy first time with Gambit and fem!reader? It’s not her first time with a guy but maybe there’s been some tension building up and he wants to show her what a real man can do if you know what I mean lmao. I’ll leave it pretty open ended, I trust you’ll make something awesome! ❤️

A/N: Saaaaame! My obsession with this man is unwavering 🫦 Pairing: Remy LeBeau "Gambit" x F!Reader Tags: sex in the water, pining, fluff, shy!reader, pnv sex Summary: Reader decides to take a swim in the lake by the mansion. Having never had much luck with guys in the sexual department, Remy decides to show the reader how good it can really be and joins her in the water.

A Moonlit Dip

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the tranquil waters of the lake that nestled quietly at the edge of the X-Mansion grounds. You had slipped away from the main building, seeking a moment of solitude and perhaps a bit of refreshment in the cool water. The air was thick with the scent of pine and wildflowers, a welcome respite from the ever-present tension of mutant politics and training sessions.

As you waded into the lake, the water felt like silk against your skin, soothing the day's stresses. The gentle lapping of the waves against the shore was the only sound, save for the distant chirping of crickets preparing for nightfall. You dove under, letting the cool embrace wash over you, feeling more alive than you had all day.

Emerging from the water, you wiped the droplets from your eyes, only to find Remy LeBeau, aka Gambit, leaning casually against a nearby tree, his eyes twinkling with amusement. His usual smirk played at the corners of his lips, and he pushed off the tree, sauntering towards you. You let out an inhuman shriek, startled at seeing his face looking directly at yours. "Jesus, Gambit..." you huffed.

"Bonsoir, chérie," he drawled as he fought back the urge to laugh, his Cajun accent thickening the syllables. "Looks like I ain't the only one who knows how to find a little peace 'round here."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, not expecting company, especially not him. "Just needed a break," you admitted, treading water to keep yourself afloat, suddenly aware of how exposed you must look in the fading light.

Remy chuckled, removing his trench coat and tossing it aside. "Well, since you're already in d'ere, mind if Gambit join you?"

Before you could respond, he was peeling off his shirt, revealing a muscular chest that hinted at countless hours spent training and staying fit. After that came the rest of everything below the belt. Your breath caught in your throat as he stepped into the water, his eyes never leaving yours. The water seemed to part around him, as if welcoming its master back home.

"Ain't no gators in dis lake, mon cher," he teased, swimming closer. "But Remy reckon ya might have somethin' to worry 'bout anyway."

His proximity made the water feel suddenly warmer, the space between you charged with an electric tension that had been building for weeks. You remembered the lackluster dates, the guys who failed to ignite even a spark, and here was Remy, making your heart race with just a look. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't rubbed one out to just the sound of his accent alone as it filled your thoughts when you were by yourself.

"What would that be?" you managed to ask, your voice sounding faraway even to your own ears.

He closed the distance between you, his hands finding your waist beneath the water. "Me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Remy seen you wit' them, chérie. Seen how d'ey couldn't hold a candle to what we could be."

His confession hung in the air, heavy and real. You turned to face him, your hands resting on his shoulders, feeling the strength beneath the smooth skin. "And what is that?" you challenged, though your voice trembled slightly.

Remy's smile was soft, almost vulnerable. "Something real, somethin' hot enough to burn away all those other cold nights." He leaned in, his lips a breath away from yours. "Let Gambit show you, belle. Lemme show you what a real man can do."

The world around you faded into insignificance as his lips met yours, soft at first, then deepening with a passion that took your breath away. His hands roamed your body, exploring, claiming, igniting fires wherever they touched. You responded in kind, your shyness melting away under his confident touch, giving in to the desire that had simmered between you both for so long.

In the water, limbs intertwined, breaths mingled, and the night seemed to hold its breath, watching the two of you explore each other with a hunger that was both new and ancient. Remy broke the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, his hands guiding you deeper into the water, where the privacy was absolute.

"Tell Gambit whatchu want, chérie," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

You gasped as his fingers found a sensitive spot, your body arching toward his touch. "Show me," you begged, your voice breaking with emotion. "Show me everything, Remy."

With the moon as your only witness, you finally surrendered yourself to him.

With a low growl, Remy obeyed, his actions deliberate, every movement calculated to send you spiraling into pleasure. The water became an extension of his body, caressing you in ways you never imagined possible. You clung hard to him, nails digging into his skin as your world narrowed down to the sensations he elicited, the heat building within you like a dam about to break. You hissed in pleasure when he thrust even harder inside of you, feeling every inch of his hard dick throbbing inside your walls.

"Dass'it, belle," he encouraged, his voice rough with exertion. "Let go for Remy. Lemme see you fly."

And then, with a final, exquisite thrust, you did, soaring through the clouds of ecstasy, your cries mingling with his groans of satisfaction. The world came crashing back, the stars above seeming brighter, the water warmer, and Remy, more breathtaking than ever before.

He held you close, his forehead resting against yours, both of you catching your breath. "Was dat good, chérie?" he asked, his tone raw with emotion.

You nodded, unable to speak, your heart still racing from the whirlwind of sensations he had unleashed.

Remy kissed your forehead, his arms tightening around you. "We should get outta de water, cher. Night's chill settin' in."

You reluctantly had to agree.

His hand found yours as he led you out of the water, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth that had enveloped you moments before. The moon cast a silvery glow over the lake, making the droplets on your skin shimmer like diamonds. You shivered slightly, not from cold, but from the lingering thrill of what had just transpired between you. You'd managed to find your clothes in the dark, quickly dressing as Gambit did the same.

"Here, chere," Remy murmured, draping his coat around your shoulders. The fabric was still warm from his body, and it smelled faintly of his cologne—a mix of spice and something uniquely him. "You catch a chill, Gambit'll never forgive hisself."

You smiled up at him, feeling the weight of his concern, and more, the depth of his affection. "Thank you," you whispered, pulling the coat tighter.

He nodded, his eyes soft as they met yours. "Let's walk, yeah? Getchu warmed up proper."

Hand in hand, you strolled along the lakeside, the silence between you comfortable, filled with unspoken words. The crickets had resumed their song, and somewhere in the distance, a whippoorwill, its call echoing through the trees.

"Been wantin' to do dat for so long," Remy confessed suddenly, breaking the quiet. "Ever since dat night at the bonfire when you laughed at my terrible joke and didn't even care dat everyone else thought it was lame."

You chuckled, remembering the event he spoke of. "It wasn't that bad," you defended, though you knew he was teasing.

"Maybe not," he agreed, "but it was enough to make Remy think maybe, jus' maybe, you were different. That'chu saw me, not jus' Gambit the playboy, but Remy."

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice touching a place deep inside you. "I do see you," you admitted, pausing to face him under the moonlight. "All of you. The good, the bad, the Cajun charm... which I love, by the way." You'd confessed.

Remy laughed softly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "And here Gambit thought he was bein' subtle," he joked, though his eyes remained serious. "You deserve someone who's upfront, someone who can give you all de fire ya need, chérie."

You leaned into his touch, the vulnerability between you both palpable. "And you think that's you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Gambit know it is," he replied without hesitation, his gaze unwavering. "I wanna be de one to stand by your side, through thick and thin. To show you every day whatchu mean to me."

Tears pricked at your eyes, moved by his declaration. "Remy..." you breathed, searching for the right words.

He shook his head, placing a finger gently against your lips. "No need to say anything now. Jus' think about it, yeah? Let it sink in."

You nodded, understanding his request. This was a moment to savor, to reflect upon, not to rush through with hasty words.

They continued walking, the conversation lightening as Remy regaled you with tales of his youth in New Orleans, the mischief he and his friends had gotten into, and the lessons he had learned along the way. You listened intently, enchanted by his stories, by the man himself. You didn't think it was possible to fall for him even more but he had that charm all the same.

As the path wound closer to the mansion, Remy slowed his pace, his expression turning thoughtful. "Y'know, dere's somethin' I've always wanted to show you," he said, his tone mysterious.

Curiosity piqued, you looked up at him. "What's that?"

He grinned, the familiar glint of mischief returning to his eyes. "A secret spot, up in de hills. It's where I go when I need to clear my head, or jus' feel...free."

Your interest was piqued. "Sounds magical," you mused, imagining the possibilities.

"It is," he confirmed, his hand squeezing yours. "Maybe one day soon, Gambit'll take you de're. Show you de view, letchu feel de wind in your hair."

Excitement bubbled within you at the prospect of sharing such a personal place with him. "I'd like that a lot," you admitted, smiling.

As they reached the edge of the woods, the lights of the mansion peeking through the trees, Remy stopped once more, turning to face you fully. "Tonight was...incredible," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for lettin' me in, chérie."

You shook your head, unwilling to accept gratitude for something so mutual, so transformative. "There's nothing to thank me for," you insisted. "It was...perfect."

His smile widened, a flash of white teeth in the darkness. "Perfect, huh? Well, maybe next time we can aim for legendary d'en," he teased, his eyes twinkling.

Laughing, you nudged him playfully. "Oh, is that so? And what would make it legendary, pray tell?"

Remy leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "How 'bout we find out together?" he whispered, his voice low and inviting.

Your pulse quickened at his suggestion, the promise of what could be hanging in the air between you. "I think I'd like that," you admitted, your voice catching ever so slightly.

With one last, lingering look, Remy turned towards the mansion, tugging you gently along. "C'mon, chere. Let's getchu inside before you turn into an ice sculpture. Gambit'll cook ya up somethin' to warm your soul."

You laughed, the sound carrying on the breeze as you followed him, your steps lighter than they had been in ages. As you walked, wrapped in his coat and his affections, you couldn't help but feel that perhaps, just perhaps, this was the beginning of something truly extraordinary, like the man himself.

[vaultdwellerbarbie]

chasing shadows

javi rivera x f!reader (8.5k wc)

summary after the trauma of losing three friends, your boyfriend javi becomes incredibly distant and leaves for the military with as little as a note. when he finds out that kate had helped you get a job with her in new york upon asking her to come back to oklahoma with him, neither of you are sure how to proceed

content warnings smut, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), angst with a happy ending, trauma/near death experiences, probably more than half of this is tooth-rotting fluff, heavy mentions of freckles i'm so sorry i love them, idiots in love trope

hi all!!! i'm moving tomorrow and may not have time to write full fics until august 4th - if anyone has any hc requests for any or all characters pls send them almost a week without posting fics abt my beautiful twisters characters makes me sad

When you were a witness to three of your closest friends dying, and happened to only escape by the skin of your teeth, you figured that it couldn’t get much worse than that. 

Coping with what had happened was difficult, but you had survived. Kate had survived - even though Kate ran to New York City - and your boyfriend, Javi, had survived. So long as you had Javi with you, you reasoned, you were going to be able to recover from what had happened. You had lost them, but you hadn’t lost the person who you loved more than anything.

Kate, before leaving for Manhattan, encouraged you to keep him close. She had watched the beginning of your relationship - really, she had taken part in it. Her and Addy had been the ones that played matchmaker to get the both of you together since they were absolutely sick of watching you pine over each other like needy teenagers. She had lost her partner in the storm, and she was a constant reminder that you were lucky that you still had Javi. She reminded him that he was lucky that he still had you, too, since you had been by her side when the storm hit. You didn’t stay back with him, data collection wasn’t your role in the group. 

When you came back, he had to search hospital after hospital to find the two of you. Javi had no idea whether you were alive or not, and that was what killed him the most.

In the hospital, he promised to never leave your side, just as he had promised to Kate that he wasn’t going to take your relationship for granted. He had almost lost you, and he vowed that he was never going to allow himself to lose sight of you again.

For the first few months, you tried to find purpose in your life. While Javi was struggling to even think of a place where he could work, you ended up working at a local news station in the meteorology department. Javi wasn’t bringing any money home, but you didn’t expect him to. He moved in with you for a while, and you had hoped that the two of you were going to be able to recover. 

The first time you saw him smiling again was the first sign of hope you had that he was going to be able to get better, to at least get himself out of the house for more than the few hours that you went out with him. That hopefulness ended up being foolish, though. 

Javi did end up deciding to to out more, just not with you. Not with… anyone that he knew, and he certainly didn’t get a local job.

In a note that he left on your nightstand, seemingly after sneaking out in the early hours of the morning, he let you know that he had made a decision to join the military. Some part of you wanted to understand that he was coping, but you were coping too. You had done everything in your power to be there for him, to support him, to help him find some sort of peace in his life, and after promising to never let you out of his sight, he decided that he couldn’t find that peace with you in it. 

At first, you tried moving in with family. You couldn’t stand the idea of being alone for even a second, and you now had to add heartbroken onto the loss of your friends and your near-death experience. It was the very next day after his unannounced departure that you decided to move in with family, the very first time that you questioned if you had a purpose on the planet at all or if you were just being thrown into a sick joke after a sick joke until you finally got the memo that your time on this Earth was limited. 

Living at home lasted for about a week and a half before you reached out to Kate. She was, of course, dismayed that Javi had left without doing anything more than leaving a note. You still had his phone number, you could have reached out to him, but after the first day, you didn’t even consider it. He had chosen to break his promise, and you weren’t sure that you wanted him to respond. Did you want to hear his voice? Did you want to have a text message read and ignored by him? The risk felt like it outweighed the reward. So, while you were technically the one who went no-contact, it was his own choices that led you down that path. 

A day after your phone call with Kate, she called you back to let you know that there was an opening within her organization. It was more akin to what you had been doing, working in the meteorology department, but you would be reporting to a partner of the company and delivering the forecast on the news. The job sounded daunting, just speaking in front of that many people seemed scary to you, but it also seemed like a fresh start.

Plus, some petty, juvenile part of your brain wanted Javi to turn the weather on and be forced to see you one way or another. Granted, he probably wasn’t getting Manhattan-local weather wherever he was stations, but it was the thought that counted. 

So, with a little fee for breaking your lease early, you moved into a shoebox apartment in Manhattan with a single roommate because you didn’t trust yourself to have a place all to yourself. Not with your deteriorating mental health. 

After a while, you fell into the rhythm of things. Romance was something that never came back to you, but you also never looked for it. Sometimes, you considered doing something to bring some sort of romance back into your life. Mainly, you would try to go to a nice bar after work and consider bringing someone home after having yet another night’s sleep haunted by dreams of Javi and painful memories of the tornado. Each time, if someone got a little too close, you got clammy and ran. Maybe it was a refusal to have your heart broken again, or maybe it was because you just couldn’t find anyone who compared to him in your mind.

At one point, years later, you had received a message from Javi. Rather than send an actual apology, he just asked if you could call him. Naturally, rather than confronting your feelings and your past, you pretended that he had the wrong number. Was it the mature decision? Not at all. But, considering the fact that he had run away with little consideration for your feelings to do something that he had never once mentioned as being something that he was interested in, you weren’t convinced that the mature decision was something that he actually deserved.

It wasn’t until he showed up at the office that you forgot how to behave. 

Having decided to visit Kate in the morning to bring her coffee, something that you did every morning if she was starting after you, you didn’t expect to end up having her tell you to ‘come along’ to the conference room since she was certain that it wasn’t something you could at least sit outside of. Breakfast together was something sacred to you both, and everyone knew that. She, of course, could never have anticipated that the person that she was meeting with was the person who’s face, smile, freckles, and cold exit haunted your every waking moment whenever you let your mind wander to what could have been. 

Now, in your mind, there were two options. Option one, you could choose the flight response and leave the room just as quickly as Javi had turned to face you. Or, option two, you could choose the fight response and get into an argument with him right then and there about why he had done what he had done and how it had hurt you. Instead, you decided upon a secret third option in which you stood there silently, refusing to meet his eyes, playing with the sleeve of your shirt while he spoke with Kate.

If it weren’t for Kate dragging you along with her, you probably would have remained glued to that office floor for the rest of the work day just trying to figure out if what had just happened was real. But what had happened was real, and even though he had changed his hair and come back with a new look, he was still Javi. He still looked at you as though he was still in love with you even though you were certain that he never was, and he was still the person who had made you question if romantic love even existed. 

What began as an invitation for just Kate to come to Oklahoma, ended up being an invitation for the both of you to come. Both of you rejected it, but while Kate rushed out of the diner, you remained glued to your seat - this seemed to be a common occurrence.

“Are you going to come?”

“What?” That being the first thing either of you said to each other was certainly not how you would have ever hoped to reunite with him - but had you ever been hoping to reunite with him to begin with. Your heart was heavy just looking at him. Not just because you remembered the most recently feeling associated with Javi, being pain and heartbreak. But because you remembered the love that you had for him, and how much you adored every feature on his face, how it had become habit for you to trace and count the freckles on his skin and to stare at him when he smiled like he hung the moon in the sky. That pain went a lot deeper than feeling betrayed, because it took everything in you to not ask him if you could ever try again. 

“Are you going to come to Oklahoma?”

“Oh, uh, you heard Kate… so. I should probably get going, it was nice seeing you.”

“Wait-”

“I’ve gotta go. Late for work.” 

Without giving him another glance, you almost sprinted out of the door and back to the office. 

The rest of the day was filled with pain for you, pain even with Kate’s company because all you could think about wasn’t how he had hurt you, but how much you missed him. You almost wanted to text him, to tell him that you’d go. If you were being honest, you genuinely were interested in what he was describing. If it was what he said it was, perhaps what you had all wanted to have as an end goal to begin with was possible. But, beyond that, you knew that you were never going to stop missing him; you knew that you would never stop being in love with him.

Still, you held firm in your position to not reach out - how could you even explain to him that he actually did have the right number without sounding juvenile? Maybe you shouldn’t worry too much about that, since he was the one that left you to begin with. But you still worried, and you still couldn’t bring yourself to text him because as far as you were concerned, his efforts to patch things up had been abysmal at best. 

The next morning, Kate was incredibly forward with her desire to go back to Oklahoma. That was how you ended up on a plane with her even though you weren’t one hundred percent certain that you were making the right decision. It was one thing to go back to the place where you experienced your worst trauma, another to do the exact same thing you were doing that traumatized you in the first place, and it was only made worse with the added knowledge that you were going to be doing it all alongside the person who had left you more broken than you already were to begin with. 

Arriving in a place that was once so familiar to you should have felt like coming home after a long time away. In a sense, it did. Everything was something that you recognized at least in some capacity, and you couldn’t proclaim that you didn’t feel some sort of familiarity when Javi came to pick yourself and Kate up from the airport, but that certainly didn’t aid with your discomfort. Regardless of how comfortable you wanted to portray yourself, you were incredibly, incredibly worried about spending a week with Javi. In general, you just weren’t sure that you could handle it. Especially since he had taken the time to learn how to dress and smell nicely, rather than you just finding him attractive in anything he wore.

Still, you couldn’t deny that he would still be attractive in anything regardless of what it was. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how upset with him you were, you couldn’t deny that you still found him to be the most attractive person you knew - but maybe that was jut because you were in love with him.

The first day was a bit rocky for everyone. Kate hadn’t been able to go through with the chase and you had been so distracted with trying to help her that you weren’t able to do much to stop her. When she rushed you all into the car, you presumed that she knew what she was doing; Kate always knew was she was doing, so you trusted her. When it became clear that she didn’t, that she was just afraid, you could understand why. You had seen a few tornadoes since the last one, lived through them since you didn’t leave immediately, so you were a bit more desensitized to it. But chasing again was a different story, and it invoked a lot of memories that you had hoped would stay buried in your subconscious until you returned home at the very least. 

When you were able to return to your motel, you ended up spending part of the night out talking to some of the people tailgating in the parking lot. Javi had invited yourself and Kate, though you were certain that he knew just as well as you did how awkward it was going to be. That was why he didn’t mind so much when you broke off from awkward, stiff conversations to talk to Dani and Lily. They were, technically, the rivals to Storm Par, but he had done enough damage to your relationship and didn’t really feel any desire or need to do anything more to it.

Although you were a bit nervous to look at him, you would have been entirely blind to miss the longing glances. How every time you smiled - according to Lily - his entire face lit up before he started ‘pouting like you kicked him in the nuts’. When the Wranglers started dissipating into their rooms, the groupies that followed them did, too. There were only a few remaining stragglers, two of which being yourself and Javi.

“Thank you for inviting me.” Your voice was quiet, but your words were the same that you would give to a friend or a relative inviting you out for something or another. It should have been nothing more than that, it should have meant nothing more than that, but you knew that it meant something else. Even though you’d barely spent any time with him directly, you’d spent some time with him, a lot more time than you had since he left.

“Anytime, you should-” Javi paused, walking you to the steps of the motel. You let him walk up with you, it was the gentlemanly thing to do. Any man would do the same thing, was what you reasoned to yourself, even if it meant nothing since you were no longer in a relationship. “You should come out more often.”

“To Oklahoma? That would be pretty expensive.” You knew what he was really saying, but some part of you wanted to deflect it as much as you could.

“No- well, if you want to. But, no, I mean while you’re here. These don’t really stop unless something really bad happens. You know that.” You did know that, you used to do this with him all the time. The difference, though, was that even before you were dating him you spent the entire night glued to his side. Whether he was making you laugh, or it was the other way around - or, even, you just sat closely together because you liked being close together. 

For a moment, your mind was lost in a memory of a tailgate after a chase, a relatively calm chase at that. It was a bit busier outside than usual, not quite as humid as it could have been so more people were out and enjoying the weather and the company. You, however, got a little cold after a while. Sitting next to Javi, he noticed. He lent you his jacket, he let you fall asleep on him, and he held you until he felt just a little bit unsafe sitting outside since most people were in bed and it was getting incredibly late. That was the night in which you realized that you loved him, but now you were just left wondering if it ever really mattered just how much you loved him - how much you still love him. 

“Maybe, depends how tired I am I guess.” You responded, finally reaching the door to your motel room. You expected to just hear him bid you a goodnight, but you felt him lightly place a hand on your shoulder. 

Turning to face him, your breath hitched in your throat as you noticed how close he actually was. 

“Sorry.” Javi dropped his hand from your shoulder, but he almost seemed like he didn’t want to do so.

“It’s okay.” Your voice was meek, because a part of you craved his physical touch more than anything, just- something. A hug, even, a handshake. Something, after being apart for so long. You wanted him close more than anything, but that felt like it was something entirely out of your reach at this point. 

“I just wanted to talk to you- I wanted to tell you that I fucked up.”

“With the scanners?”

“No, I- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry about- I shouldn’t have left you like that, I regret it every day and I know nothing I can say to make it up to you but I just want you to know.”

You weren’t sure what to say, what you could say without crying. You wanted him to apologize years ago, but you also weren’t sure if anything he could ever do or say could make it up to you. 

“Why didn’t you at least keep in contact? I would’ve been okay with you going anywhere, even the military, if you didn’t cut me out. You know I would have supported you.” Just as you had supported him every day that you were together. He knew that, you knew he knew that. It was why it made no sense to you that he seemed to feel as though you wouldn’t be okay with what he had chosen to do. Realistically, you would have missed him, but you would have understood because you truly just wanted him to be okay. 

“I was a coward, that’s why. It had nothing to do with you, I messed up, not you.” Javi seemed to be struggling to find the words he was looking for - he had an expression on his face that was similar to one you had seen Kate pull, one that meant he was trying to find a way around expressing information that made him uncomfortable to even think about again. “I had so much guilt, I should have been there for you and I wasn’t. I’m sorry- you never should have been in the field, not without me, and you needed someone who can protect you, but I missed- I miss you. I miss you so much.” 

“That was never your fault, Javi.” You hated that he felt guilty for not doing more to help, for losing people he loved and almost losing you and Kate as well. Even though you were always upset with him for going without saying anything, you hoped that he had been able to find some sort of peace within himself in the process. He never seemed to conquer that guilt, but you hoped that he would. “I miss you more than anything.” You admitted, your eyes locked on his for only a brief moment before you were in his arms again.

You weren’t entirely sure who initiated the hug, but you couldn’t get enough of having him this close again, of the warmth coming off of his body. He was always so beautiful to you, and even though he looked different now, he was still the most beautiful, warm person you had ever had the absolute pleasure of knowing. A small part of your mind hated how much you still loved him despite everything, but another part of your mind was just happy to have him close. 

The feeling of his face pressed against you made you want to lean in closer, to hold onto him like it was the absolute last thing you were going to do. But, eventually, you had to pull away, to look at him, to speak more to him. 

“I lied about my phone number. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, not looking entirely surprised by that. “I probably deserved that.”

“Do you want to, um, do you want to talk about it more?”

“Please.”

So, for about three hours, you sat with Javi in the motel-room bed, discussing everything that had transpired and where it went wrong. At first, it almost just seemed like a series of apologies. Apologies that morphed into telling each other how your lives had been during the time that you were apart. Story tellings that morphed into you laughing together like nothing had ever happened, which morphed into you letting him hold you while you fell asleep and he practiced being transparent and telling you that he would probably leave while you were asleep since he had a meeting in the morning. 

Even though you fell asleep cuddled up to him, you rejected the impulses to kiss him again, to tell him that you were still terribly in love with him and that he should know. You, still planning on going back to New York, couldn’t be the one to do the very same thing that he had done to you and leave him alone

The next day should have been fine, and it was until the storm. The storm that left you hiding with a bunch of other people for shelter - without any of the people who you cared about the most. You knew that Javi had something to handle with his work, and you knew that Kate was with the cowboy that seemed fond of her. So, you decided that you wanted to explore. Since you hadn’t been around in a while, you wanted to re-experience the things that had once been so familiar to you before everything had gone wrong and you had decided to leave. 

For a while, it felt nice to wander around. But that didn’t last, and by the time you found Javi, you were thoroughly convinced that there was a chance you were never going to see him again.

“Please, please call me if you get stuck in a storm. I just need to know that you’re okay.” Javi’s voice was shaken, even though there were more things that were burdening him. Namely, Kate. Kate was burdening his mind because of their disagreement, because she had taken the car that let her use earlier in the day and run somewhere with it. But he was also shaken because he remembered what it felt like to almost lose you before, and he couldn’t do it again.

“Javi- I have to go back to New York.”

“What? No, no, you can-”

“The motel’s kinda out of service.”

“Stay with me, please. Just stay with me.” 

Staying with Javi was a slippery slope. If you had a vehicle, you could have driven to the family home. As it stood, that was too far away, and renting a car at this hour when a storm had just hit town was out of the question. If you wanted to, you could wait it out in the airport, eventually get an extremely early-morning trip back to Manhattan. Or, you could stay with Javi. The issue with staying with Javi was that you were worried that, if you did, you would never want to leave.

“Please, just one night.” Javi had been petrified of losing you, you knew that. “Just so I know you’re okay.” 

“One night.” 

It was almost sad how badly you wanted to pull him closer, to kiss him because a small part of you was worried that you were never going to be able to again since you were so ill-prepared for that storm. Instead, you settled on giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek and let him drive you back to where he lived. 

For about an hour you tried to sleep alone in his room while he slept on the couch, but when you couldn’t stop tossing and turning you found yourself lying awake. The underlying fear that another surprise would come from mother nature that evening was something that you couldn’t fully shake, even though it was incredibly unlikely. But then there was Javi. As much as you tried to think about something else, to distract yourself, all you could really think about was him. You hated that he was sleeping on the couch in his own home, that this bed smelled so much like him.

Finally deciding that you had enough, you got up from the bed and walked into the main room. He was still awake, texting one of his co-workers from the looks of it. There was a deep frown on his face, his eyebrows furrowed as he read whatever he was being sent. Even though he had denied earlier that he felt wrong about what he was doing while he was talking to Kate, it was clear that some part of him did. Maybe, though, it was her that got through to him and made him question if he was okay with his own actions or not.

“Javi?”

“You’re still awake, do you need anything?” He questioned, turning the phone off and giving you his full attention.

“You shouldn’t sleep out here, it’s not right.” 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

As you walked closer to the couch, Javi moved into a sitting position so you had room to sit beside him. Theoretically, you could have chosen to sit on the opposite end of the couch. Instead, your body naturally decided to sit closer to him than you needed to.

“I’m not comfortable being alone right now.” It was something that you didn’t really want to admit, even to yourself. Growing up surrounded by storms, chasing them, it was something that you were used to. But you had almost died doing this before, and you had been caught entirely off guard by this one. Showing fear in the face of something that you were used to made you feel weak, and Javi could see the insecurity in your eyes when you told him that. That’s why he didn’t give any more thought to his own worries and agreed to join you in the bed. 

It didn’t take more than five minutes for you to swallow your pride and cuddle up to him, and his warm and welcoming arms allowed you to hear just how quickly his heart was beating. You couldn’t deny that you missed the feeling of his warmth, of his touch, of being with him like this. You had never stopped missing him, even though you tried to convince yourself that you were okay and at peace with what had happened. While you had predominantly found peace with your trauma, you could never find it with the idea of not having Javi in your life.

The feeling of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin distracted you from your thoughts, your mind beginning to slow down as you were lulled to sleep. 

When you woke up, you almost expected Javi to have already left. Last night was chaotic, and given the nature of his company, you were certain that he was going to have a lot to deal with. But there he still was, fast asleep with his phone still charging on the night stand. Often, you woke up before him when you were still together. It was how you got so good at making breakfast, even though your heart was always warm when he made an effort to get up early to make you breakfast instead. 

There was an urge within you to get up and do what you always did when you woke up before him, but you had no idea how long he could stay after he woke up or what he even had in his kitchen. It felt like overstepping your boundaries to go in there and just start cooking without even asking first. 

Besides, you were content to just lay there watching him. You always liked having time to observe him, to count the freckles on his face and enjoy the sight of him entirely relaxed. Even though you were both a little bit older, and he had cut his hair and shaved, he was still the man who you once knew. He was a little wiser now, though. A little more responsible than he was when you were with him before. 

As nice as it was, you grew worried after about thirty minutes. Assuredly, it was getting late and he needed to get up. Having lost your phone during the storm, you also had business that you were going to take care of during business hours. Mainly, though, you knew that Javi was messaging people about work late into the night, and as much as you wanted to watch him and let him rest, you also didn’t want him to get into any sort of trouble. Glancing toward the nightstand again, you finally found a small digital clock - it was partially concealed by a cup, but with a quick movement you finally took note of the time. It was a little bit after eleven in the morning, and you were certain that Javi should have been up by now.

After a momentary internal debate, you finally decided that you needed to do the responsible thing and wake him up. 

“Javi, I think you overslept.” Your voice was quiet, not wanting to disturb him too much as he blinked awake. You knew that he was never the biggest morning person in the world, so being too harsh with him was just going to make him pout.

“What time is it?”

“A little after eleven.” 

His eyes widened for a second, glancing at the clock. He grabbed his phone to make sure, and from the amount of scrolling he was doing it was clear that he missed a lot. You moved to get off of him, expecting him to drop the phone and run to get dressed as quickly as possible. Instead, he sent a single (long) message and set the phone back down as he turned back to look at you.

“Aren’t you going to get up?”

“The only storm today is pretty small, Scott can handle things for one day.” Scott seemed to have an easier time handling things than Javi did to begin with, though you were certain it was because he had a lot less of a heart than Javi did. “We weren’t planning on chasing today, so unless the predictions get upgraded…”

“What happened to mister responsibility?”

“I’m doing the responsible thing.” 

“By calling out of work?”

“By spending the day with you, I have more responsibilities than just my job.” Even though he wasn’t in a rush to get to work, he did still sit up. You sat up with him, your heart beating a bit faster than it was before. Javi was being somewhat presumptuous, but you had slept in the same bed as him for two nights in a row. If you had no interest in spending time with him, he would know that. But, that wasn’t the case. “Wanna get lunch?”

So, you got lunch with him. You spent probably too much time at the restaurant with him, and for the first time, you didn’t really think about the past. Really, you didn’t need to. You and Javi had both changed, but in a lot of ways, you were still the same. Some tiny, miniscule part of your mind was still upset with him, but you knew you had no reason to be anymore. He had done everything he could do to apologize, and was now choosing to spend time with you instead of running off to do work. 

After lunch, he took you to get a new phone. Of course, that took a lot longer than either of you wanted it to take. It wouldn’t be until late afternoon that you were finally able to feel fresh air on your skin again, but, you at the very least came out of that waking nightmare being able to respond to the voicemail that Kate had left you inquiring if you needed a place to stay or if you were going back to New York. When she heard you had stayed with Javi, she was a bit conflicted based upon her tones, but she wanted to figure that you knew what you were doing even if she wholly disagreed with it. 

Finally, Javi decided to take you to a park - a park that it didn’t take you very long to recognize was familiar to you. The weather was looking better after the early afternoon, low-damage tornado. 

“The week’s half over, isn’t it?” He asked, drawing your attention away from the playground in the distance. You had come here with him and the rest of your friends before, you knew he lived close to it but you weren’t sure if he went here often. Granted, you also did a lot of work here. There weren’t too many wifi coffee shops in the area at the time, so you often just volunteered one of your hotspots and did your course work in the park. Things were typically moved inside once you got your hands on the van. 

“According to my calculations, yes.” 

“You excited to go back?” Javi did his best to keep his voice level, to not give you too much of an indication of how he was actually feeling about the idea of you going back without actually putting any pressure on you to answer in any particular way. Just because you were okay with spending time with him now didn’t mean you would stay just because of him. The thing was, if he asked you to, you would - you might not quite realize it without it happening, but you would.

“Not particularly excited, no.” You admitted, sitting down with him on a park bench. “It’s been nice not having to be on people’s television every morning.”

“Right, forgot you were doing that. What’s it like being a celebrity?”

“Wouldn’t say local access news makes me a celebrity.” You retorted, especially since you were only on for half of the week unless there was a big storm coming. Most of the time, you were in the office. “I think you’d be a good weatherboy, so long as you don’t get on camera with Cheeto dust on your face.”

“I’ve actually cut back on those!” 

“You know, there was a shocking lack of red powder on your blankets I must admit.” 

“I was never that gross, was I?”

“I guess not, when you remembered to shower.” 

To be clear, he never went a whole week without showering, but three days - four days? He typically just forgot because he was too invested in what he was working on, so you took it upon yourself to remind him that he needed a work-life balance. The mere fact that he had even come out here with you, done things with you today, when he could have been working said a lot about his willingness to actually start having a work-life balance. But, Javi had changed a lot in general. His hair was shorter, he was more responsible, he had a lot more equipment, and he had seemed to be at some level of peace with what happened. Obviously, there’s no forgetting it or ever being the same, but he wasn’t depressed about it anymore. 

“So, um, you’re okay with me staying the full week right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well-”

“Just keep in mind that we can’t oversleep tomorrow.” 

“I think you’re the one who overslept.” You responded, but you did too. You slept until pretty close to eleven in the morning, that was a lot later than you typically had to get up for work. Being in his arms was calming, it was the best sleep you had gotten in a long time. But you weren’t sure how to admit that, or if you even should. “Javi, I- uh…” 

“What’s wrong? Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”

“What? No. I kinda… I don’t- maybe I want to stay a little longer.”

“Oh.” There was a twitch of a smile on his face, but he subdued it by clearing his throat. “You can stay as long as you want.”

“It won’t bother you? I don’t know how used to the one-person apartment life you’ve gotten.” 

“I promise, it won’t bother me.” 

You nodded, glancing down at your hands before taking a breath - why not air out more of your conscience? It seemed like as good a place as any to do so. 

“Last night, I was really scared about- just about what happened, I guess, since I wasn’t prepared.” You hardly ever talked to him about your trauma from the past, because you didn’t need to. You had no reason to explain it to him because he had it too, even though he had been a bit safer than you had been. “But I was worried I wouldn’t see you again, mainly. I don’t want to not see you again.” 

The feeling of a hand on your shoulder forced you to look up at him, your eyes locking on his. He always was so beautiful to you, but the caring look in his eyes really just made you want to look into them forever. 

“I can’t handle the idea of not having you in my life again.” His words made your breath hitch, your eyes not parting from his for a moment. You were both silent, unclear where to go from there. 

Ultimately, it was you who broke through the invisible fence that separated the two of you. You who gingerly placed your hand on his cheek and leaned in, but it was him who closed the deal with a sense of relief and urgency that knocked the air out of your lungs. 

Javi’s hand found the back of your neck, his other hand resting on your hip to urge you closer so the kiss was more comfortable. You kept your hand on his cheek, your thumb moving over those freckles of his that you had missed touching and seeing more than anything. Your other hand rested on his forearm, holding him as closely as possible. 

It wasn’t until he deepened the kiss that you pulled back enough to speak, enough to take a breath. Your forehead rested against his, even though you were suddenly aware of your public surroundings. 

“You should take me home.”

“I should take you home.” 

The ride back to his place was an absolute nightmare. Whether it be your distress from the feeling of his hand against your thigh, or his distress from the way that you wouldn’t stop staring at him and playing with his fingers every time he touched you. At some point, he tried to ban you from looking at his arms because it was ‘stressing him the fuck out’, but you eventually made it in the door. 

It’s important to note that you only made it in the door, because you didn’t make it much further before he pushed you against the wall.

Javi had his lips against your neck fairly quickly, his hand sneaking down your body at a tortuous pace. You kept a hand tangled in his hair, your eyes never leaving him. 

“Did I tell you that I like your haircut?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, I really like your haircut.”

“I like yours too, but I like everything about you.” 

Grabbing his face, you rested your hands on his cheeks, his movements stilling as your thumbs brushed against his soft skin.

“I want the first time we do this again to be in your bed.” 

Javi’s eyes softened before he leaned in to press a chate kiss against your mouth before taking your hand to lead you into the bedroom. 

He took his time removing the clothing from your body, which was a lot more than you could say for yourself as you frantically tore item after item off of him before both of you were finally left in your underwear. He seemed amused as he kicked off the pants he was wearing, amused at the way you eyed him, at how eagerly your hands ran across his body. 

“You really missed me, huh?”

“I should hope you really missed me too.” 

“I did, more than you know. 

You let Javi push you back against the bed, your eyes locked on his as a slight smile covered your lips.

“Are you gonna show me?”

“Trust me, I’m gonna show you.” He motioned you to the top of the bed, following you and caging you in beneath him. “Sure you’re ready?”

“Don’t get cocky.” You replied, but you couldn’t help the wide smile that covered your face when you saw him smiling for just a moment. His smile had always been infectious to you, it was the thing that gave away to Kate that you were in love with him to begin with considering how you looked at him whenever he smiled. But that smile also always distracted you, which was how you just didn’t notice the feeling of his hand trailing down your body until he had a finger beneath the fabric of your panties, swirling around your seemingly already wet clit. “Fuck-”

“Just making sure you’re ready.”

Javi was always generous in bed, the only times he wasn’t was when you were both pressed for time but in desperate need of being together so you didn’t spend an entire day hot and bothered for no good reason. You had merely forgotten just how eager he was to please, though, he was often eager to be pleased as well which you were grateful for since you absolutely loved to hear him let loose. 

As much as you wanted to kiss him, it was a bit too intimate for a brief moment as his fingers dripped inside of you, the heel of his hand brushing up against your clit with each movement. To lock eyes with him, to be this vulnerable in front of him for the first time in five years, was a lot. It was overwhelming, but the intimacy was needed. You were certain that you could see the pent up emotions, the love, behind his eyes - and he was certain that he could see it behind yours, too. 

After a moment, you stopped staring at him so you could feel his mouth against yours. While He enjoyed the sounds coming from your mouth, he enjoyed feeling them against his lips even more. Everything felt both new and familiar, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you never wanted to be apart from him again. 

Maybe it was just because you were so pent up, or maybe it was because he had put his best effort into the way in which his fingers moved inside of you, but you could feel yourself getting lost in the feeling a bit too much. When your kisses became weaker, Javi’s lips trailed down your jaw, settling on your upper neck where his teeth lightly grazed your skin. 

His fingers curled inside of you, your hips arching off of the bed for a moment before he used his free hand to keep you from gyrating too much. You tried to keep your eyes locked on him. On his face, his hair, everything about him. But it was just too overwhelming. 

The smell of him surrounding you, the feeling of his mouth against you, of his fingers inside of you - it was all so much at once, and if it weren’t Javi, you would have been embarrassed about how quickly you came on his fingers. 

Javi gave you a moment to calm down before bringing his face to be level with yours again, his hand slowly pulling out from your panties before playing with the hem of the fabric. 

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything.” 

With that confirmation, Javi quickly pulled the last remaining article of clothing from your body while you removed the boxers that separated you from him. there was a feeling of relief, of familiarity, that came along with being able to be this close to Javi again. You missed him more than anything when you were apart from him, so feeling him push inside of you once again made you question if you were even okay with being apart from him when you both needed to do something as simple as work. 

Once he had pushed all the way inside of you, he gave you a moment to adjust. Bringing a hand to grab onto his hand, he turned it so you could intertwine your fingers with his. 

“Before we do this, I need to tell you that I love you.”

His breath hitched for a moment, his eyes widening before a smile covered his lips. “I love you too, so, so much.”

You were almost taken aback by how swiftly he leaned down to kiss you, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him back. It was incredibly eager, but it made you laugh, too. You felt like whatever part of you that had been feeling incomplete was complete again, complete because you were with Javi again, because he had made an effort to make things better, and because after all that time apart you were still just as in love with each other as you had been before anything had ever gone wrong. 

Once he started moving inside of you, you knew that you were a goner. Your fingers squeezed his hand, your leg wrapping around his hips to pull him closer. The sounds inside of the room were obscene, the mumbled words of affection and the moans coming tumbling against each other’s lips - you were just glad that he didn’t have roommates. 

Javi didn’t really hold back, but you didn’t expect him to. You had both been apart, you needed this just as much as he did. You needed to feel his hips grinding against yours, to feel him moving in and out of you in a pace that was both needy and caring. No matter what, it was always clear to you how much he cared about making you feel good. Never did he do anything too rough, and if he got a little rough he would always catch himself and make sure that you were okay. But this was something wholly different, because it was almost like it was muscle memory for him, like he knew exactly what to do to make sure that you both felt as good as possible. 

Your body arched into his naturally, and Javi seemed to get the memo that you simply wanted him as close as possible as he let his hips push you down a bit. The feeling of his warm skin against yours had your fingers tightening around his hand, you weren’t sure how you could get any closer than this but you were sure that you would do it if there was something more that you could do. 

Bringing a hand down your body, you felt Javi press his fingers against your clit. You could feel his smile as you accidentally bit down on his lip, a moan leaving his mouth as he felt you soothing the bite with your tongue. 

His hips became more erratic, your moans melding together against each others lips as you became too distracted to be wholly invested in a kiss. It was incredibly intimate having him this close again, knowing that he wants to be this close to you after everything that has happened between the two of you. 

As you squeeze him throughout your own orgasm, it takes everything for him to not finish right then and there. But he holds off until you’ve ridden out your orgasm, pulling out to finish on your inner thigh 

It takes a few moments of sloppy kisses before you both get up, taking a shower together before ultimately crawling into bed. You’re surrounded as him as you do. By his smell, by his skin as he holds you tightly against his body, by the feeling of his clothing being on your body as you cuddle into him in the bed.

“I want you to stay, I don’t ever want you to go back to Manhattan.”

Glancing at him, your head lifting from his chest, you see the nervous expression on his lips upon confessing that to you and merely smile reassuringly. “I want to stay, Javi. I never want to leave you again.”

He lets out a breath, leaning in for a soft kiss. Your fingers brush through his wet hair, before resting on his cheek. Pulling away, you can’t help the giddy smile that covers your lips as you look at him. You may have gone through a lot of issues together, and apart, but it was clear that you both understood that you were better together.

Some part of you was always sure that he was going to end up in front of you again, that your life was never meant to be one without Javi, and you just couldn’t help but be beyond happy and relieved to know that part of you was right. Javi, you were sure, was always meant to come back to you - and you were always meant to be with him. Now all you really needed to worry about was making up for lost time and settling into your new (or… old… familiar) way of life.

[yuwuta]

love f2l where he’s already hopelessly in love with you and pining in a way that’s so obvious to everyone else but you, but also love the moment in f2l where it clicks that “oh shit… i think my friend just turned me on.” even better when one person doesn’t realize they’ve turned the other one on and they’ve just gotta live with the memory replaying in their head for a few days. friends keep saying they’re distracted and they just nod their head like yeah uh sorry… was uh… sorry what were we talking about? bc these days if it’s not about that moment, zero processing has gone on 

megumi and satoru are the worst at coping with this. 

for megumi, it’s such a 180, a switch has been completely turned on when it happens, that it makes him upset. he can’t even tell if he’s angry that it happened in the first place, that he couldn’t tell he was attracted to you before, that he can’t stop thinking about it now, or that it’s possible that other people could have already had this realization and be thinking of you like this too. every option brings a mean scowl to his face. and it’s embarrassing above all because you were just trying to take off your shoes. when lifting your leg and holding onto to his bicep wasn’t enough, you crouch down to struggle with the straps instead. megumi sighs—all he wanted to do was get your drunken ass home in one piece and now you’re crouched down in the middle of the street, and when he looks down to see what’s taking so long, that’s when it hits him. you bent down like that, looking up at him and groaning and pulling on his shirt and whining for him to help you does very terrible things to him. and it shouldn’t, you’re only calling for him because you lack the hand-eye coordination (and clearly critical thinking because this is the middle of the road and you cannot walk barefoot) right now to undo your shoes, but it’s your blown pupils and pout and the calling for him—you have to stop whining. and saying his name. immediately—not to mention the angle and tilt of your head to look up at him. megumi can barely help himself, much less you, which is why he grumbles, hoists you up by the scruff of your neck so you’re standing up right. you giggle in your haze but megumi just hisses his teeth, tells you “stop looking at me like that,” and before your mind can catch up, he grabs you by the waist and hoists you over his shoulder because looking at your face is not an option right now. and this is for the best for everyone—now your feet don’t hurt, you’ve stopped groaning, there’s no more eye contact, and megumi has the rest of the walk back to your apartment to contemplate what the fuck just happened to him 

for satoru, it’s actually partially his fault, because not only is it so far from sexual and yet turns him on anyway, but he’s so annoying that his actions lead to a cascade of other terrible turn-ons that and now it’s a cyclical problem. you’re just borrowing something of his for the convince of it—his glasses because it’s sunny, or maybe his jacket because it’s cold, something small and innocent—but it ignites such a strong flame in him that his visceral reaction is to snatch it right back from you, and run away like some school girl. “hey—satoru what the fuck, come on, you weren’t even using it!” you call, but your voice is already an echo at the speed he’s scurried away from you. the flash vision of you in his belongings was terrible, but it’s the memory of it that makes it worse, brings a blush to his face, and leave him shaking his head like a crazy person because what the fuck this is insane. you didn’t even do anything so he has no reason to act like this, there’s no way the slightest insinuation of you thinking of him/his belongings as something to borrow, or hold, or have should make him react this way, but it does. and he hates it. and he’s not normal about it at all, and it takes you confronting him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him back and forth, asking him what the fuck is wrong with him, which is warranted, but worse because that also leaves him red from his face to his check with Awful Realization Numbers 2 and 3: (2) you usually just Deal with him being strange, but right now you’re mad and you’re really hot when you’re mad, and (3) you’re very close to choking him out right now and if you did, he wouldn’t stop you

yuuji is the one who has had this effect on more people than he knows, which is hilarious to think about because he’s either completely oblivious, or using his charm to play innocent. and when you have that moment, you’re definitely left stunned. you were just fishing for more snacks for your self-care night—a tradition that used to between you and nobara, but now includes megumi, and most times yuuji, but tonight, he had plans with todo, which you were grateful for because there’s no way you could have been around him after what happened. in a hurry to grab his water bottle from the fridge, yuuji doesn’t bother you with words to maneuver through the cramped kitchen, just mindlessly puts his hands on your hips, lifts you, pivots, puts you down, grabs his water bottle, puts it on the counter, lifts you again, pivots, and places you right back where you were, flashing you a million-dollar smile, before grabbing his bottle and rushing out to catch the bus. you’re left blinking, body on autopilot as you finally reach for the chips, and zombie-like when you make your way back to the living room where nobara’s putting a sheet mask on megumi. when you’re finally seated on the couch, you blink for the first time, blurting out to nobody in particular, “is… is itadori hot?” and it’s comedic how quick, blasé, and autonomic the in-sync replies from both megumi and nobara are, “yes”, “unfortunately.” oh. well that’s reassuring you suppose. you might have been the last to realize it, but at least you’re not alone. 

if you told yuuta he had the ability to seduce anybody he would probably just laugh awkwardly and think it’s some kind of joke. the great irony is that rooming with him has left you with many instances to confirm that he is attractive, but the defining moment is when you realize just how much yuuta has grown in his year abroad. your apartment is nice and relatively modern, but there are still some tight spaces. usually you and yuuta just giggle while shuffling around each other, but today, you feel like you’ve gotten between a rock and another rock because when did yuuta—your scrawny, awkward, endearing yuuta—gain fifty pounds of muscle? it’s a terrible moment for you to be squished between him and the tiny enclosure of your storage closet and even worse that he’s the one who apologies, and smiles, and carries on reaching for the spare napkins while you’re left with the filthy thoughts about your best friend. 

[godjustkys]

| mndi +18

| Stiles Stilinski x Top male reader

please give requests.

"A-ah! Fuck! Oh fuck, f- mhhh!"

"C'mon, Stilinski, you can take it, hm?" You mumbled out, your hands placed firmly on his hips, thumbs grazing over his back dimples.

Stiles squirmed a bit under your touch, his legs shaking ever so slightly. "[Name], plea-se, 'm— I can't!" He exclaimed, shaking his head urgently.

After all that stupid pining from the both of you, you had him on all fours, naked, and on your bed. "Aw, don't give up so quickly.." You leaned forward a bit, getting closer to his ear.

"Ghh— shiiittt!" His nails dug deep into his palms, trying to hold his position steady. "Slow! Slow, please, go slow!" He raised his shaky voice a bit. Stiles was breathing heavily, his head still hanging low. Perhaps he was ashamed to look at you.

"I am, don't worry Stilinski, I ain't gonna hurt ya now," you said with a small chuckle, pushing your dick in deeper, going at a much slower pace per Stiles' request.

Stiles suppressed many noises that threatened to leave his mouth, trying to stay quiet. You were playing by Stiles' rules, since he's the one having it rough right now, but that didn't stop you from pulling out slightly and pushing in a little bit deeper at a faster pace.

Fuck. That thing you just did earned a loud whimper from Stiles. His back arched quite a lot and you were in such a great position to witness it.

"God, Stilinski," you breathed out, moving one of your hands up to the back of his neck then slowly running it down along his back as you simultaneously pushed your dick all the way in, now just letting Stiles adjust to it. "You've got one hell of a body," Stiles thighs were shaking as you murmured out compliments, but it soon calmed down because you let him adjust and get used to the feeling.

"And a pretty face. Aren't you just perfect?" And with that comment of yours, Stiles let out a shaky breath, unclenching his fists and taking a moment to relax.

"You ready for me to move yet, or do you want some more time?" You said in a smug tone, both your hands back on his hips. " 'm ready, 'm ready.. yep, you can- move." Stiles responded to you, his voice almost neutral, yet holding some urgency behind it.

" 'mkay," you grinned, pulling out slowly. Agonizingly slowly. "Tell me to stop if you wanna back down,"

As soon as you finished your sentence, you rammed back into him oh so harshly. Maybe you should've went easier but Stiles did say he liked it rough. "I g- Mmhhh! Ah! Fuck!" Stiles tried replying to you, but the way you slammed back into him felt so good, not to say that it didn't hurt at all. "Fuuuccckkkkk!" He moaned out, his voice sounding so sloppy and high pitched.

He grasped the sheets, his fists balling up. So far, your pace was pretty slow and gentle, not including the start of it. "How we doin' Stilinski, you feelin' good?"

"ngghh! yesyesitfeelsgood.. pleasepleaseplease—" he rambled out, placing his forehead against the mattress. "gofasterplease, [name], please." His voice was pretty quiet, quite difficult to make out what he had said. "Awh, use your voice, don't be shy," you teased in an amused tone, really taking in the sight in front of you. "What do you want me to do? I couldn't hear you,"

That was a lie, you most definitely heard him. You just wanted him to be louder - to hear his voice. Everything about him makes you more and more obsessed.

"Please. Go faster, pleaseee.." he whined out, his voice still high pitched. Was he a crybaby in bed? Oh god, the thought of that just turned you on even more. "There ya go," you exhaled, your tone so gentle as you quickened your pace by a lot, holding onto his hips tighter.

It was at this point that Stiles' arms had given out, his shoulders now on the bed as well. The only thing holding him up was you.

"You seem to be doing well, Stilinski, you likin' the position, huh?" You asked, your eyes fixated on the back of his head.

No genuine response, just some loud whimpers and moans.

"Oh come on, you can do better than that," you teased, pushing your dick in deeper with every thrust.

Nothing. Again. Just louder moans from your partner.

You let out a sigh as you pulled out, leaving Stiles confused at first. Then you flipped him over on his back, positioning yourself between his legs and continuing from where you left off.

Your hands were on either sides of Stiles, propping yourself up on the bed as you looked down at him. Stiles couldn't look at you, he was too embarrassed about this. He was going to turn his head away, but you kissed him so he had nowhere to go.

Your hands moved to Stiles's thighs after the kiss, holding onto them with a tight grip, pulling your lover closer when you thrust in. "Goh— od! Oh for fucks sake!" He cursed out, throwing his head back as his hands found their way to grip your shoulders.

Your hand wrapped around Stiles' dick and you started jerking him off. In response, your boyfriend let out a loud and such a slutty moan. "Fuh— fuck!" In response to the pleasure, Stiles' ass clenched around your dick. "Oh? You like that, don't you?"

Stiles' toes curled as he gritted his teeth. Soon enough he wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you in closer as you jerked him off and fucked him, at the same time. "Look at you, being such a good boy for me," you muttered out, thumb rubbing over his slit. You started fucking him harder, thrusting deeper. Soon enough, reaching his prostate. When you reached it though, it was pretty obvious.

His nails dug into your back. "[Name], oh god, wait! nghh!~" He sobbed out, arching his back. You looked at him with delight, grinning and hitting the same spot again. "Is that the good spot?" You teased in a gentle tone. He couldn't help himself. The amount of whines and whimpers that left his mouth was insane.

Stiles was a moaning and sweaty mess at this point, his words weren't even coherent and they were all slurred. He left pretty obvious scratches on your back during this. "You're takin' me so good, baby.." you breathed out, your voice a bit hoarse. "You're a sight for sore eyes, can't believe I get you all to myself," you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

"ghhhh, mmmfuccckk.. imgonna.. [name], [name] imgunnacum..—" he barely formed a simple sentence, clearly out of breath. "Go on then, do it," you encouraged him, leaving a hickey on his neck after you responded. Stiles grabbed a fistful of your hair, his dick twitching in your hands as he came and his ass tightening around your dick, the liquid spurring out onto his stomach, some of it getting on you as well.

"Good boy.." you muttered, your pace slowing down ever so slightly, just for a moment. Stiles was still whining and whimpering - he felt a little too overwhelmed after cumming like this and you fucking him.

"Shh baby, just hold out for a little while, okay?" You encouraged in a soft tone, holding back your groans - you were close.

He nodded urgently, biting his lower lip as his grip on your hair loosened slightly. Stiles made eye contact with you, finally. God, the look in his eyes made your dick twitch inside him, not to mention the tears he was holding back.

Of course it was a little painful, but you were doing your best to be gentle with him. Plus, he wasn't really crying, he was just teary eyed.

Your hands moved to Stiles' chest, grasping his pecs. "mggh.." a soft mewl escaping the other's lips. You squinted your eyes curiously, a sly grin spreading across your face.

With that, you pulled out, jerking yourself off til you came with a silent grunt. You didn't want to make Stiles feel so dirty for his first time with you..

[candy69gurl]

It's me I wanted to ask a student!Gojo x Student!reader,male x male,they are hidden in the basketball room or like changing room? were Gojo does an handjob at the reader and then when the reader cum Gojo is to worked up so he needs to fuck him?

Idk it's my first time asking yaoi so..umm thanks in advance

REALIZATION

PAIRING heart-throb Gojo Satoru x quiet shy boy (yaoi)

WARNING male x male, closet sex, dirty talks, handjob, cock rubbing, fingering, loss of virginity, anal, neck kissing, nipple play, cum on face, then some flulff and assuration (Red flag Gojo turns Green flag)

It's quite a sight, isn't it?

Everywhere he goes on campus, he's bombarded with screams, cheers, and catcalls from his adoring fans. The popularity, the attention, the admiration—he's practically swimming in it. It's a given: Gojo Satoru, the living, breathing epitome of Tokyo Metropolitan Technical College's ideal man, with his chiseled jawline, snow-white hair, and eyes as blue as the ocean on a clear summer day.

He's the golden boy of Tokyo Metropolitan Technical College, with a reputation that precedes him wherever he goes. Popular among both genders, and known to be quite the flirt, Satoru basks in the attention showered upon him by every student, acquaintance, and stranger alike. He's got a knack for getting his way, and he doesn't shy away from using his charm, wit, and skills to get what he desires.

And then there's the little matter of his romantic escapades.

Perhaps it's the thrill of the chase, or maybe just his insatiable curiosity, but one thing's for sure: Satoru never stays with a partner for long. He's the epitome of a commitment-phobe, moving from one girl to another, leaving a trail of broken hearts and bewildered faces in his wake.

It's become a running joke among his peers, the way he changes girlfriends as frequently as some people change underwears, LOL. But hey, it's all part of his charm, right?

For Satoru, variety is the spice of life, and he's determined to enjoy every flavor. He's not one to settle down with just one person, nor does he want to. In his eyes, the grass always seems greener on the other side, and he's more than eager to explore every blade.

But beneath his carefree facade and playboy lifestyle, there's a secret he's yet to reveal.

Amidst the chaos of his love life, there's a quiet, shy boy who's been nursing a secret crush on a girl—let's not say the name—for what feels like forever. She, however, has eyes only for Satoru.

But Satoru, as per usual, seems oblivious to this hidden affliction. He's too busy bask in his own world of popularity and admiration to notice the quiet boy's silent pining or the girl's unrequited love. He's a master of selective perception, focusing only on those who actively throw themselves at his feet. Little does he know, there's a hidden story unfolding right under his nose, one that could potentially shake his world.

One day, a new twist unfolds in the campus drama. A lottery determines that Satoru and the quiet, unassuming boy are to be paired up for a group project. Uproar and disappointment ripple through the halls, especially among the swooning fans who had hoped for a chance with Satoru.

The quiet boy, on the other hand, is a mix of surprise and confusion. He didn't expect to be paired with the campus heartthrob, the one his crush has been crushing on. Nonetheless, he remains silent, he does not want any drama in his life. He hopes to complete the project all by himself and add Gojo's name on it too.

Despite the disappointment all around, Satoru has another plan. He wants to befriend the quiet boy, not letting him carry the entire workload alone.

His interest in this new companion is more than just courtesy. He sees potential in the quiet, unassuming soul, and he wants to break through the shell of shyness and hesitation. He believes in teamwork, and he wants to show the quiet boy that they can make a great team together.

"Hey, buddy. No need for you to do all the hard work yourself, huh? Let's make a plan, and we'll make this project a piece of cake. So wait for me after school ends ,kay?"

The quiet boy nods uneasily, he hates to be the centre of attention, but whenever Satoru is talking to him or trying to him, everybody gives him a dirty look. Of course they are jealous, why this guy?

On hearing the news, the girl with a crush on the quiet boy rushes to him, her eyes wide with excitement and hope. "Is it true? Are you really working with Satoru?" she asks, desperation in her voice.

The quiet boy nods blushing furiously. "Please, please help me," she pleads, her eyes full of pleading. "I'll meet you outside the girls' changing room later today. I need to talk to you."

The quiet boy, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment, can't help but nod again avoiding eye contact.

But, as he agrees to meet his crush, he remembers the promise he made to Satoru. He recalls how Satoru told him to wait after school, but he can't shake the feeling that the busy, popular guy might forget or run late.

His heart tugs between loyalty and desire, Should I wait for Satoru first? Or should I stick to my promise with my crush? he wonders.

In the end, he chooses to wait for his crush, hoping beyond hope that his decision won't backfire.

After school, the quiet boy nervously waits at the designated spot, his heart pounding like a drum. He is earlier than usual he does not want to miss his chance with his dreamgirl. His anxiety heightens as a group of girls, the same ones who gave him dirty looks earlier, walks towards his direction. Panic surges through him, and he decides to hide near the locker room, peeking from the doorway.

As the girls pass by without incident, he breathes a sigh of relief. While the quiet boy nervously waits for his crush, Satoru is diligently keeping his word. He searches the school corridors until he spots the boy hiding near the "girls" changing room. Suspicion flares in Satoru's mind, and he approaches the mysterious rendezvous.

"Oooh, boy, what are you doing here?" Satoru teases, his voice filled with mischief. The quiet boy's heart jumps, caught in the act.

"P-please .. forgive me, I-I" he looks up to see Satoru with his cheeky smile, he lets out a sigh, "Oh.. you scared me"

"Why are you here? I told you to wait for me after school, so why you-.. Oh so are you trying to do some naughty thing here?" Gojo smirks.

"N-no.. I am n-" he is stopped by the sound of footsteps echoing and growing closer.

Just in time, Satoru pulls the boy into a small closet, the space barely fitting their bodies. They listen as the girls enter the room and the quiet boy's heart leaps as he hears the voice of his crush.

They're hidden, but the close quarters send a thrill through the boy. He can feel Satoru's warmth and hear his shallow breaths, his heart pounding in sync. This unexpected intimacy leaves the quiet boy even more flustered than before.

"It's all your fault, Satoru!" he whispers, his face burning with embarrassment, but Satoru chuckles softly, the dimple in his cheek deepening. "Hey, you were the one hiding in here first" he retorts playfully.

Then, their whispers are cut short by the familiar voice of the crush. "Oh, I hear Satoru's voice" she says, disappointment evident in her tone. Her friend pipes up, "Yeah, yeah, you always hear his voice"

The quiet boy's heart sinks as he hears his crush speaking. His only crush continues, her words leaving little to the imagination. "You don't know, I touch myself to thoughts of Satoru, I want him to fuck me, so hard and fast..." She trails off, adding more explicit details.

Satoru's laughter vibrates against the boy's back, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "What a down bad person" he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. The boy feels heat spreading across his face, both from the words and the situation.

Despite the embarrassment, the quiet boy can't deny the effect his crush's words have on him. His body responds, betraying him as he gets hard, brushing against Satoru's hand in the cramped space.

Satoru's laughter dies down, replaced by a low hum of appreciation. "Well, well, someone seems to be enjoying her horny imagination" he says, his voice a seductive rumble. The boy freezes, not sure how to react to this new turn of events. "Tell me do you have a crush on her" he teases.

Satoru does not know why but his hands move without warning, wrapping around the boy's suddenly hardened cock. It's a bold move, and the quiet boy is shocked. He's never even masturbated before, so he quickly covers his mouth to stifle any noise.

This unexpected touch startles and excites him, his breath hitching. Satoru's hands are warm and skilled, moving in a rhythm that sends shivers down the boy's spine. Despite the unusual situation, the quiet boy can't help but lean into the touch.

Satoru continues to tease the boy, his voice thick with amusement. "Imagining fucking her, huh? You're already leaking" he mocks, his fingers slipping beneath the boy's waistband with ease.

The quiet boy's breath hitches as Satoru's warm fingers brush against his most intimate place, his cheeks burning. He never imagined this would happen, but there's no denying the sensation is electrifying. He can't help but wonder how it would feel to be touched like this by his crush. His mind races with thoughts of what could be, his body responding to the taboo experience.

Satoru's fingers glide against him, and the boy bites down hard on his lip to suppress a moan. "But.. she can't make you feel the same way I do" he whispers into his ear, his voice husky and full of promise.

The boy's heart races, his breaths coming faster. He's never experienced anything like this before. He lets out a small moan, tears coming out of his as he is reaching his peak.

Satoru grips his cock tightly helping him to reach his best orgasm, but the boy lets out a loud whimper,

Outside the closet, the girls start whispering, discussing the sound they just heard. "Did you hear that?" his crush asks nervously, concern creeping into her tone.

Satoru reacts instinctively, pressing his lips against the boy's to muffle any further noise.

Their lips touch, soft yet firm, as Satoru continues to pump the boy to completion. The quiet boy's mind fills with a jumble of emotions - shock, arousal, and gratitude. He could taste the sweetness of Satoru's mouth, the connection sending sparks through him.

In this moment, the boy forgets about his all-ever wished girl, lost in the unexpected intimacy with Satoru. The pressure builds within him, the release imminent.

Satoru's kiss is brief, but potent. His lips move swiftly, breaking away just in time to allow the boy to let out a muffled gasp as he reaches his climax. Sweat drips down the quiet boy's forehead, his legs trembling as he comes.

As the aftershocks subside, Satoru pulls away, as the boy catches his breath, he hears his crush's friend snicker. "You're even hearing Satoru moaning, huh?" She teases, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Satoru pulls away, adjusting his clothes, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He turns to the quiet boy, his eyes filled with a mix of mischief and warmth. "Did you like it?" he asks, a challenge in his voice.

The guy says nothing, he is too busy in getting over with the effects of the orgams. It's his first time after all.

Satoru listens carefully, hearing the footsteps fade. So he swings the door open, only for the poor boy to lose his balance and fall to the floor.

The quiet boy lies on the floor, his face flushed and sweaty, a testament to the intense experience they just shared. He's a sight to behold, tempting and vulnerable. His limp cock, covered in cum and nestled between his legs, is a clear sign of what just happened.

Satoru swallows hard, his erection straining against his pants at the sight before him. This feeling is unfamiliar, overwhelming. He's never felt this way for anyone, especially not for a boy. The thought that he could be attracted to a guy is foreign, yet undeniable.

Unable to hold back, Satoru unzips himself, his cock springing free. He approaches the boy, his heart pounding in his chest. He kneels before him, captivated by the sight of his cum-covered cock.

Slowly, he takes the boy's soft, sticky member into his hand, his own throbbing erection brushing against it. Satoru can't explain what's happening, but he feels an irresistible urge to claim this boy...

The quiet boy looks up at him, his eyes wide and filled with confusion and desire. He doesn't understand what's happening, but there's no denying the pull between them.

"What are you doing?!" he says in surprise, as Gojo keeps stroking himself against him.

"I want to fuck you" he confesses, his voice hoarse. The boy's eyes widen, shock etching across his features. "Are you crazy? I'm not gay!" he protests.

Satoru meets his gaze, his own eyes filled with sincerity. "Neither am I" he admits, his voice shaking slightly. "But I've never felt like this before. Please, I'll make you feel good."

The quiet boy takes a moment to process Satoru's words. He's never been with a guy before, let alone someone as confident and experienced as Satoru. But there's something in those blue eyes that makes him hesitate, something undeniably earnest.

He swallows hard, glancing down at their hard cocks. "I... I don't know" he murmurs, uncertainty creeping into his voice. "I... I'm not sure if I'm ready for this."

"Let me prepare you" Satoru says softly, his voice steady despite the nervousness echoing through the room. He pulls the boy closer, their bodies brushing intimately.

With gentle deftness, Satoru helps the quiet boy remove the rest of his pants, revealing his enticing ass. He can't help but swallow hard, desire coursing through him.

Reaching out, Satoru lubes his finger with his saliva and gently inserts a finger into the boy's tight entrance. The quiet boy gasps, his body tensing. He winces, the sensation foreign and unexpectedly pleasurable. He lets out a faint whimper, his dick hardening despite the confusion swirling in his mind. This sensation is new, foreign, yet undeniably good.

Satoru adds another finger, his movements slow and deliberate. The boy's eyes flutter shut, his body trembling under Satoru's touch. He's never felt like this before, overwhelmed by emotions and sensations.

"It's okay" Satoru whispers, his voice a soothing balm. "Just trust me."

He adds another finger, his touch steady and reassuring. The quiet boy takes deep breaths, trying to process the barrage of sensations assaulting him. His cock pulses in his hand, hard and eager.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Satoru asks, his voice laced with quiet triumph. "I promise, I'll make this good for you."

The quiet boy nods, his face flushed and breathless. Despite the confusion, he can't deny the pleasure coursing through him. Satoru's fingers inside him feel strange, yet exhilarating.

"Feels... strange," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "But...."

Satoru smiles, his fingers never pausing. He can feel the boy's body slowly relaxing, yielding to his touch. "Just relax, alright? You're doing great."

With a gentle tug, Satoru removes his fingers, the quiet boy's body protesting the loss. But before he can register what's happening, Satoru positions himself between his legs.

Their eyes meet, filled with anticipation and apprehension. With a slow, measured thrust, Satoru enters the boy, his cock sliding smoothly into his tight heat. The quiet boy gasps, his eyes widening in surprise.

Satoru's movements are slow and gentle, his thrusts deliberate. With every stroke, the quiet boy feels a rush of pleasurable sensations. He's never been with a guy before, let alone someone as skilled as Satoru.

"How does it feel?" Satoru asks, his voice husky. The quiet boy bites his lip, his heart pounding. "Unlike anything I've ever felt" he admits, his voice soft.

Satoru nods, his movements slow and gentle. His hands reach up, wrapping around the boy's cock. He strokes it in time with his thrusts, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

"Mghh~" the boy moans, his face reddening in heat. He can't believe he's enjoying this, enjoying Satoru's touch. His entire body trembling under the dual stimulation. The sensations are overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and vulnerability.

Embarrassment floods him, his face flushing bright red. He covers his face with a hand, hiding his reaction from Satoru.

Satoru chuckles softly, his thrusts growing more forceful. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" he murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

Satoru trails kisses down the quiet boy's neck, his tongue tracing delicate paths. With his other hand, he reaches inside the boy's shirt, his fingers brushing over his nipple. The boy jolts, a sharp gasp escaping him.

Unable to control his response, he cums, his walls tightening around Satoru's cock.

Satoru groans, his thrusts growing frantic. The quiet boy's reaction fuels his own desire, sending sparks of desire through him.

"Fuck" he breathes out, his voice rough. He slows his thrusts, letting the quiet boy ride out his orgasm. The boy's cum spills over his hand, the sight sending a shiver down Satoru's spine.

His grip on the boy's nipple tightens, his thumb rubbing it in a circular motion. The boy arches, his body trembling under Satoru's touch. "You feel so good" Satoru whispers, his voice thick with desire. "So tight, so warm" he groans, his hips bucking involuntarily. "I can't... I can't take it anymore."

He picks up the pace, thrusting harder and faster. The quiet boy's eyes widen, his body arching with each thrust. His skin glistens with sweat, the room filled with the sounds of their passion.

With a final thrust, Satoru pulls out, the quiet boy gasping for air. His body trembles, still reeling from the intensity of their encounter.

Satoru grips the back of the boy's head, guiding it towards his cock. The quiet boy hesitates, but then closes his eyes, bracing himself. Satoru's release pulses onto his face, hot and sticky. He opens his eyes, a look of surprise crossing his features. Satoru watches, his breath hitched, the boy's face painted with his cum.

Satoru kisses the quiet boy's forehead, gentle and tender. "Your crush wants me, but I want you" he confesses, his voice low. "And don't worry, I'll make our thing public. What do you say? Will you be mine?"

The boy's face is still red, his eyes wide. He thinks for a moment, hesitating. "But what if people—" Satoru cuts him off, placing a finger on his lips. "I don't care about people" Satoru interjects, his voice firm, "I only want you." He looks into the boy's eyes, filled with sincerity and desire. "I want everyone to know you're mine. I want everyone to see what we share, to see how special you are to me."

The boy swallows, his confusion evident. "You really mean that?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Satoru smiles, his eyes shining.

"More than you'll ever know" he promises, his hand cupping the boy's cheek. His heart swells, feeling a sense of pride and joy. This boy, so quiet and innocent, has captured his heart in a way no one else has.

"We'll make it work, alright?" he continues, his gaze steady. "We'll face the world together, hand in hand. I'll protect you, I'll cherish you, and I'll love you until the end of time."

The next day, the quiet boy and Satoru walk through the halls, hand in hand. The sight catches everyone off guard, from girls to boys, jaws dropping in shock. The boy's ex-crush, caught off guard, stares in disbelief.

Satoru doesn't miss a beat. He looks around, his voice ringing with confidence. "Yes, he is my boyfriend" he announces, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

The whispers start, a ripple of shock spreading through the school. Satoru feels the eyes on them, but he doesn't let it bother him. He's made his choice, and he's not backing down.

"Don't worry" he tells the quiet boy, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "They'll get used to it. They'll see that we're happy, that we belong together."

The quiet boy looks up at him, a mix of fear and hope in his eyes. "What if they don't?" he asks, his voice low. Satoru chuckles, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips. "They'll have to" he replies with a confident smirk. "I'm not the type of person you cross, remember?"

The quiet boy swallows, his heart racing. "But what if they... make fun of us?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Satoru leans in, whispering in his ear.

"We'll show them what we have," Satoru repeats, his voice low and firm. "We'll be stronger together than any rumor or gossip. We'll prove to them that love knows no bounds, that our connection is real and powerful."

The quiet boy takes a deep breath, his grip on Satoru's hand tightening. "Okay," he says, his voice barely audible. "I trust you, Gojo."

Satoru smiles, his heart swelling with warmth. "That's my good boy" he kisses the top of the boy's head, while everyone watches them from confusion to awe.

Tagging @rabbidbunwy @sweetchildcloud

[pit-and-the-pen]

Unrequited Love

A/N: I had to get to the airport to return a rental car like 5 hours early so I’m so sorry for the pure amount that I’ve been posting today but as a socially awkward girly, if I’m on my own phone then for sure no one is going to talk to me.

Anywho here is some angsty angst about day court!reader and Azriel.

Part 2: Here Alt Ending: Here Part 3: Here

Forgive any typos I wrote this on my phone.

Warnings: none

WC-1.4K

————————————————————————

My blood was boiling beneath my skin. Azriel has been complaining for the better part of an hour about Rhys gag order regarding Elain. I was trying not to roll my eyes as I had reached my wits end with his lamenting.

“I just don’t understand why he needs to meddle in this. I get she’s Feyre's sister but he doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. “I just can’t help but think that sometimes the cauldron gets it wrong.”

His words were spoken so plainly. Anger wanes for a second as I swear I could feel my heart break inside my chest. The words seemed to echo in my head Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. I almost would have rather had him carve out my heart with truth teller.

“What do you think?” He asks me and I sit reeling over his words. I can’t think of anything to say to him. The comforting words I would normally have for him can’t get past the anger starting to cloud my vision. So I simply shrug, avoiding the question. Desperately trying to change the subject.

“So this new book I’m reading…”

“Oh c’mon.” He interrupts me. “I know you have something to say. And I trust your advice more than anyone else. There isn’t anyone else I would rather talk to about this.” His eyes softened as he looked towards me. Instead of melting under his gaze like I normally do, red bites at the edge of my vision.

“I think you should leave her the hel alone.” My tone is not gentle. He freezes.

“What?”

“She has a mate already. And regardless of if you think the cauldron got it right. Lucien is the one mated to Elain,” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “And Lucien is a wonderful male who has been through a lot of shit. He deserves someone as sweet as Elain, if she ever comes around. You should stop meddling.”

His mouth opens, when no words come out, he closes it again. You see the muscles in his jaw tick as he clenches his teeth.

“What has gotten into you? When did you become Lucien’s spokesperson?” He spits at me. His face starts to get closer to mine as he leans over the table, slowly starting to rise to his feet.

The sane part of me is telling me to stand down. That one of the most powerful warriors in all of Prythian was starting to get angry at me. My mate was starting to get mad at me. But I would not cave under his intimidation.

“I became his spokesperson when you showed no respect for him. Or for Elain.” I noticed I was starting to get to my feet. “What about what she wants? She doesn’t owe you anything more than she owes Lucien. Rhys told you to stay away from a girl you feel entitled to and now you want to mope like a petulant teenager. Grow up Azriel.” He flinches before something stoney sets in his eyes.

“At least I’ve actually told her how I felt. What about you?” My stomach drops into my knees. “Sitting and pining over the same person for a century.”

“You knew?” My voice was nothing more than a whisper. This was not happening. I should have left when I had the chance.

“It’s not like you tried to hide it. I thought at some point you would get the hint that it wasn’t going to happen but yet there you always were trailing behind me like a sad little puppy.”

My hands on the table started to glow faintly. My anger was finally breaking through the surface.

“You asshole. You stupid Illyrian bastard.” The smirk that graced his face fell instantly. “After everything that I’ve done for you, you want to use my feelings for you as some fucking weapon against me.”

Even I was surprised at the venom in my words but I was on a roll. “I sat by for five hundred years. I sat by as you pined over Mor, someone I consider my sister. I felt that bond go unreturned.” He completely froze at my words. Words I have never spoken out loud to anyone.

“Wait-“

“No. You get to hear this shadowslinger.” I pressed my finger to his chest and he stepped back like I had hit him. A small part of me wishes I had. But this. This right here is why Rhys kept me around. I didn’t need to throw a punch to put someone on their knees.

“I followed you around like a lost puppy and you loved it. Every second of it. I was stupid enough at some point to believe that it was because you felt it too. And I couldn’t get away from those feelings,could get away from you. Every time I tried I would damn near drive myself crazy and then you would smile or say some funny joke and I was right back to where I started.” I willed the slight shake in my voice to disappear. “You just wanted to feel important because the one you truly loved wouldn’t have even entertained the thought. Took other males into her bed, but not you right? So why not go for the next available thing. Me. Who cares if I got hurt? Who cares that I still fucking loved you through all of it? Not you clearly. You played me like a fucking fiddle and I played my part well.”

When I finally looked back up at his face I saw nothing but a shell of the male that stood in front of me. Even his shadows had retreated from his side. Looking down I realized they were sitting at my feet. I pushed down the glimmer of something I didn’t have time to think about at the sight.

“Please. Just stop.” He pleaded.

“Why? Because it hurts to hear? Fuck you. “And you think that didn’t hurt me too?” I watched him pale. “You didn’t think it killed me to feel that empty weight in my chest every time I looked at you. Everyday that I waited and wished that you would feel that stupid bond I’ve had to live with for the last two centuries.”

He gasped at my words cutting me off

“You never told me about that. I just thought it was… I don’t know… I thought it was a crush like how I felt with Mor”

A muscle in my jaw ticked. “I shouldn’t have had to! The whole point is that you feel it too. Bonds aren’t supposed to be one sided but for some gods unknown reason, you didn’t,” I felt the anger really starting to boil over.

“Every time I heard you rambling on and on about how perfect Mor was, about the females you took into your bed. I sat by all of it, for what? Three sisters for three brothers?!” I was screaming now, my hands shaking by my side

“What happens when she’s all fixed up too Azriel? When she feels this same thing I feel when she looks at Lucien. Onto the next one for me to hear about I guess . Always on the sidelines. Always the sweet face to come back to at the end of the day but never the one you want to be with.” I took a deep breath for the words about to come out of my mouth, steeling my nerves.

“I’m done. With this. With you. Fuck this entire gods damned city. I will not sit by and play second to whoever you deem worthy enough for the rest of my life.”

He held up his hand like he was going to reach up for me but the light that was glowing off my skin was warning enough.

“Where will you go?” Was all he had the nerve to say.

I let out a cold, twisted laugh. “Anywhere but here. Hel I could finally go home. Helion has

been asking me to come back for years now. All I know it will be somewhere where you can’t come and ruin another half a century of my life. Because that’s what you did. I wasted all this time on someone I knew wouldn’t love me. But I can agree with you on something, Azriel.” I paused long enough to see the hope in his eyes as he whispered “what?”

“That sometimes the cauldron does get it wrong.”

I walked out of that room with my head held high

[throughparisallthroughrome]

"Got the Blues Back in Boston"

Chapter 1

Pairing: Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Description: Leaving behind an incompatible college and profound heartbreak on the Virginia Coast, you find yourself home again in Brookline, Massachusetts. A new opportunity presents itself to you at MIT, joining your brother ben and childhood friends/neighbors, Anakin and Ahsoka. Despite the familiarity, you discover just how much of a difference 2 years away can really make between the people you once considered family.

Warnings:f!reader, angst, jealousy, pining, smut, masturbation, mentions/descriptions of domestic abuse, cursing, drinking/drug usage, academic obsession, general obsession, hardcore partying, frats, general college bullshit

DISCLAIMER!!! READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: I’ve never been in an abusive relationship- I’ve only witnessed them. I’m an aspiring psychology major and have done a lot of research on the topic of domestic abuse/violence. This series deals with this topic HEAVILY, so be warned. 

Word Count: 6.3k A/N: First chapter is up! I'm sorry it took so long, I was really hoping to nail a certain feel and aesthetic with this series, and I really hope that translates. I'm probably gonna post the playlist I listen to while writing this because it does have a lot of influence on the story and everything. Please let me know if you wish to be tagged! Requests and ask box is open, and any/all criticism is welcome! Thank you for reading and supporting me <3

masterlist.

The drive to Brookline was always a hassle. Whether it was crossing the scary bridge along the coast of Virginia or through New York City—knowing that you’d still never been—it always ached. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been home in two years—and you missed Boston. 

Piled high in the back of your black Ford Focus was the last two years of your life that you could fit. You left behind everything else. 

The forest that encompassed you on I-95 offered a clearer perspective on your situation. As devastating as it had been, your new beginning after high school was not quite what you expected it to be. Hampton was a lovely place; the beaches were excellent, the people friendly, and there was always something to do. Somewhere to go. You made decent money working as a cocktail waitress in a club near your apartment, which is how you met Nick.

Tall, with a handsome face and a charm that was impossible to resist, Nick was the kind of man you couldn't help but be drawn to. He had a gorgeous smile and a body sculpted from the gods. The night you met him, he smooth-talked his way into your bed, introducing himself as Nicholas, saying how he never met someone as beautiful as you. The other waitresses just didn’t compare. And the rest was history. Were you usually the type to sleep with someone on the first date (if you could call it that)? Definitely not. But something about him was so captivating. 

But as the trees passed you by and your grip on your steering wheel tightened, you felt a tear fall onto your shaking hands. What happened to the Nick you loved? What went wrong? Who did you both turn into? Besides, the whole thing going south was your fault- you both knew that. You wanted too much; you let those men flirt, and you were never there for him. You never did what he asked. And you’d never amount to anything. At least, that’s what Nick always told you- and part of you was inclined to believe it. 

Your heart ached at the loss. The 11-hour drive was increasingly painful by the second, only two hours in and not even through the first city. The morning sun beamed in your eye as your car trudged through the wetlands, bathed in its golden hue.1 In the distance, you could make out the skyline of DC, the first city you needed to travel through.

It was nice in DC. You had attended a few times in the past. On one of the many family vacations you took throughout the years, you, your parents, and the Skywalkers had all made a trip together to that specific destination. You intentionally took the longer way home to ensure you remember it all. Besides, the Delaware Peninsula was far from interesting. And you needed the time to think- and probably mentally prepare yourself for what you’d arrive at.

The most exciting part of the trip was Baltimore, Philly, and NYC back to back. Despite sitting in mind-numbing traffic a lot of times, there was always something to look at. And people-watching was always your favorite. You felt your heart hurt, wishing for the opportunities that these cities could bring. As New York City and Hartford disappeared in the rearview mirror, the approaching Boston skyline sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching in your throat. And there was the traffic.

You shakily reached for a cigarette out of your purse as your car came to a stop, breaking your own promise that you wouldn’t smoke in the car you bought. A wide smile spread across your face as you lit the cigarette, your body relaxing as the sweet scent filled the air. Naturally, your mind went straight to Anakin. Whenever you tasted cigarettes, it was impossible not to think of him and the bittersweet moments you shared. After all, he started your bad habit. Once again, your hands shook. Did he ever think about you while you were gone? You were close, but he was also an incredible pain in your ass. And what if he and Padme suddenly got back together? Ahsoka would have told you, right? Maybe. 

She would have told you. 

The familiar streets of Brookline outstretched before you, energetic and alive, instantly flooding your mind with cheerful memories that brought a grin to your face. Your smile widened across your face as you glanced at the familiar sports bar on the corner, reminiscing about the laughter and friendships you developed during your time as a hostess in high school. You turned the corner at the next light, a quiet laugh escaping your lips as the vibrant lights of the movie theater danced before your eyes, eliciting the sweet nostalgia of your god-awful first kiss. You weren’t expecting little Tommy to stick his tongue down your throat in 7th grade. As you approached Emerson Garden, a bittersweet ache tugged at your heart, memories of laughter and familiarity flooding your mind—the memories it held. 

The streetlights flickered as you turned down the most familiar road of all. You bit your lip in anticipation and ignored the urge to light another cigarette right then and there- your mom didn’t need to know about your filthy habit (although she smoked, too). The soft melodies of Radiohead and the laughter echoed from the back porch as you parked in the driveway. Gazing at the house with a smile, you felt a hint of excitement about reclaiming your old room. It had been far too long. 

The porch light turned on, and out ran Ahsoka, not even giving you a chance to turn your car off.

“You motherfucker!” She yelled, opening the car door and throwing her arms around you as you laughed, “It’s been so fucking long!” 

You looked back at her, pulling the beanie off her head and giggling, “Well, don’t tell the others, but I only came back for you.”

“Shut up,” she stands up, pulling you up with her, “Get your ass inside.” You laugh and salute her, following her through the familiar corridors of your house and into the kitchen. 

“Shut the FUCK up. She’s real!” Your mom squealed and quickly set her wine down, embracing you as if you’d be gone in an instant. “Never leave me like that again.” She pulls away and laughs, her tone laced with a hint of seriousness. 

“Never.” You promised, smiling wide before your dad caught your attention, tossing you a beer and shooting a wink in your direction. Although he wasn't typically sentimental, you could tell he missed you. 

“Where are the boys?” you asked, opening the can and drinking the bitter liquid. “Jesus Christ, Miller Lite never gets better, does it?” You squinted your eyes in disgust, giggling at your own reaction. 

“Nope, thought I taught you better than that.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head. “They’re outside with Cliegg and Shmi.”

“Okay, sweet, I’ll go say hello.” You motion towards the back door, catching a glimpse of Ben from the back porch. 

“Hey,” He grabs your arm before you can turn to leave. “We missed you. I hope you’re okay. Ahsoka didn’t give us any details, but she said things really went to shit in Hampton. I just want to make sure you know you always have a home here, and we will do what we can to make it better, okay?” 

You nodded and smiled before practically running out the back door, forgetting exactly what you were throwing yourself into. 

“You fucker, you cheated!” Anakin yells, throwing down his cards as Ben takes a swig of his beer and laughs. 

“I’m afraid you just have an awful poker face, Anakin.” He sets his cards down and stands up, turning to face you with a smile. “There she is. About time you graced us with your presence.” 

You give a shrug before embracing Ben tightly, fighting back tears welling up in your eyes. You and Ben were close, and you knew that if he found out what happened, it would devastate him. He and Anakin were always there to keep you safe, but you had a distinct sibling connection. He knew you too well, always able to read your thoughts with uncanny accuracy. 

“You okay?” He pulled away and whispered, searching your sad eyes.

“Yeah, just tired. Long ass drive. Took the long way this time.” You sniffled, and he nodded in response, letting go and pulling a chair out between Anakin and what you assumed was Ahsoka’s chair. With a quiet thank you on your lips, you raised your beer to your mouth and took a long, satisfying gulp, feeling a gentle buzz settle in. 

“So, you’re back.” Anakin avoids eye contact, shuffling the cards before him as Ahsoka stifles a laugh. “Took you long enough.”

“Anakin!” Shmi scolds, noticing how his lips turn into a smirk, “You know he missed you, Y/N. He’s just a sore loser. Ben’s kicked his ass at poker three times now.” 

“Ah,” You nod, a grin spreading across your face, “He just doesn’t want to admit he sucks at poker- OW!” You feel a sudden impact as Anakin's foot forcefully meets the top of yours, causing you to shoot a glare in his direction. His eyes remain fixed on the cards, completely disregarding your look, while he bites down on his lip, trying to contain his amusement. "Sore loser indeed," you mutter under her breath, shaking her head in annoyance as you pick up the cards he handed you.

Of course, the hand was awful. You weren’t sure how you’d make it out of this alive. Family poker nights were a tradition started by your parents and the Skywalkers, which you were all quickly introduced to by your 10th birthday. Once you hit double digits, you were old enough to gamble. Ahsoka was always the best, but you had a habit of making a comeback when people least expected it. And you had a great poker face- Anakin did not. Anakin had a habit of wearing every thought and emotion on his sleeve his entire life. Shmi always swore it would be his downfall- as a child, you thought she was just talking about his downfall at poker. But once you got older, you quickly understood. 

When you discovered his breakup with Padme, you felt like maybe part of you understood. But you never really knew why they broke up. Everyone just told you, “They were better off as friends,” and that was all you knew. Did you want the real story? Absolutely. But part of you was worried about what he’d tell you. You knew better than to get involved in Anakin’s love life, and deep down, a part of you didn’t want to taint the image you had always had of him in your mind.

“Heard you finally got into MIT,” Anakin breaks the silence and your train of thought as he pushes a couple of chips into the center of the table, “Congratulations, although I’ve never heard of anyone going to MIT for an Archeology degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh. 

“There it is.” You giggle as everyone groans, setting their cards down as they fold. 

“There’s what?” He shoots you a disapproving glare.

“You’ve never given me a compliment without an insult. Was waiting for it.” You shrug, laying down your cards, “Full house.” Anakin’s jaw drops as you pull all the chips in your direction. 

“Shit,” He mutters, setting his cards down and laying his head on the table as he groans loudly in annoyance, “Fucking done with this game.”

“And so are we,” Shmi motions Cliegg to stand, “Love you guys. Have fun. Good to have you back, sweetheart.” Shmi kisses your head as Cliegg ruffles your hair before leaving to say goodnight to your parents. 

“Mhm,” you hum, finishing the last of your beer, “and plenty of people go to MIT for archeology. It’s a great school. Besides, it’s about time I joined you all there. And it’s only a 15-minute drive. Speaking of- how’s biochemical engineering going, little one?” With a gentle tap on Ahsoka's knee, she reluctantly tears her gaze away from her phone and responds with an eye roll.

“Fucking awful! I love what I’m studying; the school is incredible- just so much work. I’m so tired. I have time for nothing!” She groans and sinks further into her chair while you, Anakin, and Ben burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Coming from a recent MIT graduate- it doesn’t get any better. Just wait until you get further into your major- Biochemical Engineering is far from easy.” Ben offers her a smile while you and Anakin continue giggling. 

“And on that note,” You stand up, shaking your empty can, “I’m getting something stronger than this Miller.” 

As you enter the house, a soft purr fills the air as your familiar furry companion, Giz, wraps himself around your legs. You squat down on the floor and feel the warmth of his fur as you pet him, "Missed you, little guy."

“He missed you too.” Your mom leans against the doorway, handing you an obnoxiously full glass of wine. “Had a feeling you came in for this. Are we gonna talk about what happened?” 

You sigh, standing up and rubbing your hands on your thighs. “Now’s not really the time or place, Mom. I just got here. The last thing I wanna think about is that.” You grab the glass out of her hand and attempt to turn around before her hand is on your shoulder, pulling you back. 

“Not so fast.” You turn around and meet her concerned eyes, your hands feeling more sweaty than they did a minute ago. “Y/N, no one just up and leaves their entire life for the past two years suddenly without something major happening. I know you haven’t told anyone- and I know the last thing you want to do is talk about it- but please, for the love of God, talk to someone. We can all tell something is off. You’re not yourself, honey. We care about you- and we’re concerned. As much as I’m so fucking happy to have you back, I know something bad happened, and I want to be there for you.” 

“Mom,” You put your hand on her shoulder, fighting back tears with a smile. “You’re doing enough. I just want to have a good time, focus on being in my dream school, and g-get my life back together, okay?” 

“O-okay,” she nods, her voice laced with apprehension as she turns away from you and back into the kitchen, “Pasta on the stove if you want it!” 

“Thanks!” you yell, shutting the back door behind you and sighing loudly as you plop back into your chair, earning an eyebrow raise from everyone, “I’m here for an hour and she’s already bugging me.”

“She just loves you, Y/N/N.” Ben tries to reason, and you feel your leg bounce. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, fidgeting with the poker chips on the table.

“So,” Anakin leans forward, opening another beer, “You and that guy still together? What was his name.. Harry? James?”

“Nick.” You answer for him, unconsciously biting your lip. “And no, we’re not.” Everyone’s ears suddenly perked up at the confession, the consensus being just how little they knew about your life. 

“Damn, what’d you do?” Anakin jokes, searching your face for a smile, only to be met with nothing.

“Ha. Good one.” You chuckle under your breath, your lips forming into a frown.

As soon as Anakin brought up Nick, you lost interest in the conversation. Nick never met the family; you only told them about him over the phone while you were gone. He had always insisted that your life was meant to be in Hampton with him, where you would create something new together. You didn’t need to return home to your family; if you did, you’d be leaving him all alone. Holidays and significant moments came and went, and all the while, you were stuck at a college you loathed, sharing your life with a man you mistakenly believed was the one.  

During your nights in Hampton, you and Nick would often find yourselves curled up on the couch, indulging in excessive drinking while he introduced you to various illicit substances. You pretended to enjoy soccer and cocaine, drinking more tequila than you needed. Shot after shot, followed by line after line, you barely knew who you were. He constantly told you how pretty you were, how you were made for him, but if you forgot to run to the liquor store that day, he would treat you as if you were dead to him. Nick offered little in return for your support, except for empty assurances that the life you would build together would make it all worthwhile. Nick's behavior took a downward spiral as he began staying late at work and arriving home in a drunken stupor. From that point on, things spiraled out of control. 

And maybe a part of you once loved Nick, but now you felt suffocated in the relationship. And when you tried to bring things up to him, he’d tell you that you were a cheap whore who was only made to be his personal fuck toy. And just like that, the conversation came to an end. The coercion left, and he started to force you to use the drugs he’d use, tell you to skip class, skip tests, skip your job- you were losing yourself within him, and you were worried about the consequences if you didn’t let it happen. He was always a kind, sweet, romantic boy- but he could be so, so evil. 

And you’ll never forget the first time he hit you, the sound of his hand connecting with your skin echoing in your ears. As you sat on the counter, the alcohol made your vision blur, and your head throbbed as if it was about to explode. You were already at your limit, and the last thing you wanted was to do was another line. Your nose was already starting to bleed a little, and he begged and begged for you to keep going- telling you he needed it. He didn’t want to do it alone- you had to do it. As you stubbornly declined once more, a sudden, fiery sting seared across your cheek, causing your nose to finally bleed and droplets of blood to stain your thigh. He apologized profusely, waiting on you hand and foot as he cleaned you up, held your hair as you puked, washed you, and still talked you into sex- but it had happened. You knew you needed to leave, or your life could be at stake. 

“Y/N?” Ben asks, and you break out of your Nick-induced trance with a sharp gasp, your eyes glossy and lips bloody from your nervous tic. 

“I’ll be back.” You stand back up, taking a concerningly long swig from the wine before exiting out the back gate and into the driveway. 

“I’m really concerned about her.” Ben watches you leave and bites his lip. Ahsoka nods along with him. “Listen, as happy as I am to have her back, something’s not right. As her brother, I just- I fear the worst. She’s not herself.” 

“Did you see the way she reacted when you asked about Nick?” Ahsoka whispered, leaning in to closer to the table, “Something had to have happened.”

“Wait.” Anakin says, as he and Ben both turn to face her, their brows furrowed in confusion and concern, “Ahsoka, you don’t know anything either? She’s your best friend.”

“I- I know nothing. And I hate it.” She confesses to the boys, the air growing thick as Anakin uncomfortably shifts in his seat, and Ben sighs.

“I think I’m gonna try to talk to her.” Anakin stands slowly as Ben raises a brow and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes.

“Anakin, no offense, but I doubt she’ll want to talk to you,” Ahsoka murmured, avoiding his scowl. 

“Well,” he pushes the chair behind him, walking towards the gate. “We’ll see!” 

Curled up in the Papasan chair on the porch, you lit the joint between your fingers and watched as the lights in your neighbor's windows turned off. Your thoughts drifted from Nick and onto the childhood you missed dearly—so many snowball fights on the street before you, bike rides, and scraped knees. You remember the Johnsons across the street particularly not liking Anakin, so you and Ahsoka egged their house, only to backfire and get Anakin in trouble. You confessed to doing it, and no one believed you. It had to be Anakin. But for some strange reason, he never cared. He accepted the punishment, mowed their yard for a year, and never brought it up to you, no matter how many times you apologized. And every apology that slipped from between your lips was met with a grin. 

And that time in 7th grade when Ahsoka really got into it with Julie down the street. She never liked Ahsoka and always found a way to get under her skin. However, this time was particularly awful. When you found Ahsoka, she was sobbing on the corner while Julie laughed at her, calling her pathetic, telling her that even her adopted parents didn’t love her and that her big brother wasn’t there to save her now. But you were. You pushed Julie onto the grass so fucking hard, only for her to get back up and swing. Ahsoka screamed for you to stop, but a newfound rage took over as you pounded into Julie’s face. She ended up on the pavement with a broken nose, and you ended the fight with a fractured wrist and grounded for a month (Only a month because your mom found out who you fought and what she said). Anakin was waiting for Ben to return from tennis and heard the commotion. He ran down the street, finding Ahsoka sobbing, Julie on the pavement, bloody and teary, and you sitting on the corner, shaking and clutching your throbbing wrist in your hand. He instantly asked Ahsoka what happened before making his way to you, holding your wrist, picking you up, and taking you and Ahsoka back to your house. Your mom called Julie’s mom and talked about what happened, and fortunately, Julie confessed to everything. And that’s when you found out her parents were going through a nasty divorce, and Julie was starting therapy. And surprisingly, she actually grew into a really decent, respectable person. 

The four of you had always done everything together. You had always been inseparable. And when you left, it tore that apart. You left a hole in Brookline, and you knew it as well as they did. Even though they swore they were happy for you, moving on and doing more, you could see in their eyes that they selfishly did not want you to leave. They didn’t like the years of friendship to be put on hold just like that. And, of course, you felt guilty about it all, but you thought you needed to get out of Brookline. You assumed you wanted something bigger than Boston, bigger than you, bigger than those childhood friends. And two years later, you realize just how naïve you were. Those were your lifelong friends; your life was in Boston, and your dream school was there, too. You missed them more than you could ever envision, and the guilt ate at you every single fucking day. And you wished that 19-year-old you had just stayed. Things would be so much simpler if you had stayed. You let some pathetic man in Hampton tell you that it was just you and him- forever. And you knew deep down your 19-year-old naive self didn’t believe a fucking word he said- she just wished she did.  

“Oh, that’s not a cigarette.” Your eyes flicker up from the street and towards a drunken Anakin leaning against the patio rail in front of you. His lips were curled into a mischievous smile, his hair curly and messy. 

“No,” You lean forward, handing him the joint, “No, it’s not.” 

“So,” He took a quick draw from the joint, flicking it against the deck railing as he looked back at you and smiled, “You just got here, and you’re already running from us? What’s up with that?” 

You scoff, snatching the joint from him and leaning back in the chair. 

“Just wanted some alone time, is all.” You avoid his gaze, and it’s his turn to scoff, plopping himself next to you in the chair. 

“Yeah, because you’ve been so fond of that your entire life. I don’t believe you.” 

“And? Never said I cared that you did.” You quickly retorted, earning an eyebrow raise and a smirk. 

“Relax,” he said, snatching the joint back from you and holding it hostage. “Talk to me. It’s just us.” His hand met yours; his gaze was intense and empathetic. 

You weren’t sure why you wanted to tell him. It was probably the weed mixed with a bit of liquid courage, but in that moment, you needed to get it out. He was so welcoming, holding your hand and offering you the comfort you needed in that moment. Was it pure manipulation? Possibly. But you knew Anakin loved you just as much as you loved him, and you knew you could trust him. He had kept your secrets before, so what’s another one? However, none of those other secrets typically included an abusive relationship; it was mainly about Ben and Ahsoka. You gripped his hand back, watching his eyes soften and his lips curve into a small smile.

“Just-” You started, dropping your voice into a low murmur, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” He looked into your eyes like he would die to protect your secret. That was precisely what you needed to see. 

“Nick- uh- sorry,” You sniffled, rubbing your eyes as you searched for the right words. “He- uh- he hurt me—a lot. I barely made it out of that relationship in one piece. I think my breaking point was when I asked him to visit for your grandma’s funeral, and he knocked me out. I woke up in my bathtub, my face covered in my blood, and he was gone. I applied to MIT that morning. The day after I got in, I packed everything I could and left. He’s blocked on everything, and he hasn’t attempted to reach out in any sort of way. Anakin- I don’t know what would have happened to me if I didn’t leave.”

Your eyes met Anakin’s glossy ones as your hands shook underneath his touch. He crooked his head to the side, bringing you in for a much-needed hug. You let yourself cry softly in his arms, feeling his shaky hands rub in slow motions up and down your back, his other hand stroking the top of your scalp.

 But when he looked back at you, the softness in his gaze had disappeared. His fists clenched at his side, his eyebrows furrowed as he bit his lip in frustration. 

“A-Anakin?” 

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell anybody? We would’ve come to help! We could have put that piece of shit in jail by now!” He stands up abruptly, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing deeply. 

“I-I’m sorry- I-” You stutter, your mind racing as he paces before you. His eyes meet yours, and he points at you as your heartbeat accelerates.

“Y/N, I swear to god- I’m gonna kill that motherfucker. He’s fucking dead. I don’t care what hap-” He stops momentarily, cut off by your sobs from the chair. Fuck. He’s yelling at a domestic violence victim- no- he’s yelling at you. What a fucking asshole. 

“HeyHeyHeyHey-” He’s quickly on his knees in front of you, shushing and brushing your hair out of your face, “I’m so fucking sorry- that was so selfish of me to do. I shouldn’t have said or done any of that. You opened up to me, and I yelled at you.. that will never happen again, okay? Why don’t we get you to bed?” He held your hands in his, searching your red eyes for an answer as you quickly nodded. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go say goodnight to everyone, you just hold tight here. Sound good?” You nodded once again, and he giggled. “Words, sweetheart. I need you to say something.”

“That’s what I want, Ani. Bed.” You mumble out, forming your lips into a sad smile. His heart broke at the sight of you. 

The second the back gate opened back up, Ben and Ahsoka immediately shot out of their chairs at the sight of Anakin. Their interrupted conversation suddenly had no meaning as he entered, taking a quick seat next to them.

“She’s- uh- she’s pretty upset. And fucked up. I’m gonna take her to bed.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair as Ben and Ahsoka looked at him, puzzled. 

“Well, what happened? Is she okay? Does she need help?” Ahsoka frantically broke the silence, asking the questions she and Ben were both thinking. 

“Listen, she’s in rough shape right now. I’m just gonna get her to sleep, and I’ll tell you guys all about it. I don’t even know if she’s done talking about it. I’ll be right back.” 

“Y/N?” He calls out your name as he steps on the other side of the gate, jogging up the front porch to see you passed out in the chair, joint hanging loosely from your fingers. 

Amused, he grabs the roach from your fingers and casually tosses it off the porch, letting out a small laugh. Clearly, you didn't waste any time before drifting off to sleep. All the crying and weed must have done something. As he crouches down beside you, he tenderly brushes your hair, his eyes filled with adoration as he looks at your sleeping figure. 

“I’m so sorry about everything,” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, sighing softly, “I know you’re going to hate me for what I’m gonna do. Just please know it’s in your best interest. I care about you so much.” He bites his lip in thought, his eyes searching your figure.

As he rises to his feet, he effortlessly swipes your phone and tucks it away, his eyes briefly glancing at your water bottle. With a tender gesture, he reaches his arms beneath you, drawing you close to his chest and ensuring the blanket envelops you snugly as he lifts you from the chair. Your head is cradled against his chest, his hand wrapped around your waist and under your knees. 

Anakin carried you gently up the stairs of your house, each step creaking under the weight of his feet. Passing through the familiar corridors, he reached your bedroom door and pushed it open, immediately being overwhelmed by the alluring scent of your space. As he laid you down on your bed, he couldn't help but notice how little the room had changed since you left, the same photos on the walls and the same worn-out rug. Your mom kept everything intact, probably hoping you’d come back eventually. He filled your water bottle, plugged your phone in, left some medicine on your nightstand, and tucked you in tightly. Just as he turned on the fan and kissed your forehead goodnight, your eyes fluttered open to meet with his, and you gave him a sleepy smile. 

“Ani?” You mumbled, watching as his smile grew above you. 

“Hey, sweetheart, feeling pretty sleepy, huh?” 

“Mhm,” You stretched your arms out momentarily as you yawned. “I’m sorry I dropped all of that on you earlier. And I’m just- I’m sorry about it all. I feel so-”

“Y/N,” He gets on his knees next to you, the warmth in his eyes matching the tender smile on his lips, “You don’t need to apologize for a thing. I’m always here. And so are Ben and Ahsoka. We got you. You take as much time as you need to process, recover, and do whatever you need to, okay? It’s about you, Y/N/N, don’t worry about us.” You giggle and nod at his words, your eyes attempting to flutter shut. He laughs at your exhaustion, ruffling up the hair on your head. “Sleep well, okay? I’ll be here if you need me.” 

He closes your door and leans against the door frame, exhaling heavily as he tries to make sense of everything that happened throughout the night. How could someone be so fucking despicable to do this to you? His girl. His fists clenched tightly at his waist, his eyes burning with rage as he vividly imagined the torment you endured. He tried not to let his mind go there. He really did. Resting against your bedroom door, vivid visions of you, covered in blood and pleading for help, overwhelmed him, plunging him into a downward spiral. And in a moment of weakness, he did exactly what he promised he wouldn’t do.

“She was abused. Badly.”

“WHAT?”

Ben and Ahsoka jump from their seats on the porch, rushing towards Anakin as he angrily makes his way from the house onto the deck. 

“That fucking piece of shit!” Ben shouts, punching his fist against the side of the house while Ahsoka tries to calm Anakin down, asking him for more details.

“Okay, Anakin, I need you to give me more than just ‘abused.’ I know you have details.” Ahsoka sputtered while she held the sides of his arms, guiding him over to the table to sit down while Ben paced behind them. 

“It was that asshole she was dating for the past two years- Nick. The one we conveniently never met, which I’m sure was on purpose. She didn’t tell me much other than that if she didn’t leave when she did, she could’ve- well- she- it just wouldn’t have ended well.”

Anakin's words hung in the air, creating a thick silence that was almost tangible with tension. Anakin's throat tightened as he locked eyes with Ben and Ahsoka, their glossy gazes reflecting their shared pain. Ben found a spot at the table, deep in thought, as he absentmindedly stroked his chin, his eyes devoid of any emotion. Ahsoka carefully finished the last of her wine, the cling! of it ringing out as the glass met the table one last time.  

“Well-” Ben tried to start, cut off by his sudden sobs. He pushed his head on the table, covering his face from Ahsoka and Anakin as he attempted to take deep breaths, processing the information he had just learned. In an effort to hold back tears, Anakin bit his lip, his hand trembling as he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. As she silently wept, Ahsoka soothingly rubbed Ben's back, hoping to ease his pain.

“I just- I should have known.” She mumbled, picking the cat's hair off of the back of Ben’s sweater. 

“There’s no way you could’ve, Snips.” 

“It’s just that- I thought it was odd when she suddenly asked me to pick up her cat. Saying she couldn’t take care of him and that it was an emergency. I never even met Nick, and she wouldn’t let me stay at the apartment long. I hardly saw her. So many fucking red flags..” she trailed off, feeling her head hurt at the thought. 

“Ahsoka, it’s okay.” Ben sniffled, lifting his head off the table as his red eyes met Anakin’s. “There is no one at fault here other than Nick.”

"Exactly," Anakin paused momentarily at his comment, his eyes widening. “Guys, she made me promise I wouldn’t tell you. Considering everything, I think we should wait until she opens up. Even though it hurts, the last thing I’d want to do is hurt her anymore.”

“Yeah,” Ben whispers, and Ahsoka nods, holding onto each other as they try to calm down.  

“We should get to bed, guys. It’s 3:30.” Anakin mumbles as he stands up and stretches, offering his hand to Ahsoka. “We’ll see you soon, Ben. Get some rest.”

As he lay in bed, Anakin’s mind wandered off to you. How could it not? Besides being your best friend, he always looked for more in you. The knowledge weighed heavily on him, and he despised himself because of it. To him, you were his world, his everything. Always. And hearing/seeing how hurt you were? It fucking destroyed him. So, he let himself cry. He allowed himself to feel those emotions for you, and he always had buried them deep down. Instead, he buried his face in his pillow and soaked it with his tears. His admiration for you would never falter, and neither would his protectiveness. He felt as if a part of him failed, and as a result, his guard was down. He felt the desire to love you and keep you safe increased, knowing that getting the chance to do so may destroy him inside and out.

And it didn’t help that you lost your virginities to each other. Sharing such a unique, intimate moment with the person he always knew was the one, well, that just really fucked things. Literally. There wasn't a moment when he wasn't haunted by the memories of that night; it was a constant presence in his mind. And then he got with Padme, and you left for Virginia, and things got so lost and confused, and life moved on. You moved on. He tried to. But he searched for you in everyone and everything. Padme knew it, he knew it, fuck, his mother probably knew it! He’s just thankful Ben doesn’t know it. As much as he hated to say it, Anakin knew he would have gone back in time to do anything to change that moment. Because now you’re here, and his feelings have only intensified. Feelings that should have left a long, long time ago. And yet, as he cried himself to sleep, he continued to dream of you, just like every night before.

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