#let's cross that one off the list of behaviors

[gladiatorcunt]

- MOLTEN LAVA CAKE / IV.

when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man

cw: kinktober prompt (creampie), unprotected sex & playing fast and loose with it’s possible consequences, yandere behavior, age gap (reader 20’s, capitano & zhongli 50s, baizhu 40s), power imabalance, non con somno (childe), dub con, innocence kink & lowkey medical malpractice (baizhu), reader has a pussy, implied kidnapping (capitano), if you squint childe & capitano’s sections are connected, frequent breeding kink type talk, manipulation & coercion, implied baby trapping, dead dove do not eat

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

CEO!Zhongli

“Do be quiet, darling.” Zhongli grits, cupping your head with both of his palms and tugging you upwards. “I have no intentions of being an exhibitionist today.”

You arch off his grand wooden desk and gasp at the spark of pain in your neck, but you’d take that over drowning yourself in paperwork any day. Your boss’s cock is ramming into your ass at a porn star’s speed, the wet smacks of flesh slapping against flesh bounce off the one way glass walls.

This situation is the most cliché porn plot in the book though, the distant slightly emotionally unavailable boss bending his secretary over his desk and zipping down their pants. You had been running late that day, you forgot to set your alarm for Mr. Zhongli’s breakfast tea run and you had less cat food than you thought so you had to make a break for the grocery store.

By the time you scrambled in with a steaming cup of your boss’s favorite tea and his stack of reports to review and meeting requests to schedule, the older man was tapping his foot and crossing his arms. He didn’t look disappointed, not quite, but the gentle warmth in his eyes was gone and his small smile was flat.

In your desperation not to lose your job, this was your first and you’re only in your junior year of college, you follow him into his office and set down your things. Your cherry Marc Jacobs tote bag (bought by him, his papers and tea (bought by you with his money), your SINOCULTURAL orchid leather handbag (also bought by him, for variety).

Zhongli wasn’t the kind of pervy boss who’s hit on you before, you guess now that he was just lying in wait. You were the one that draped yourself over his desk with tears in your eyes, desperate and naive and relying on the principle of ‘sex sells’.

He’ll draft up a different beginning to your love story at your wedding.

“You take cock so well, perhaps we’ll have to have a discussion about adding this to your list of duties, hm?”

The condom sliding in and out of your walls makes you want to pout, but you know he has to have one. How he was able to pull a pack from his desk drawer on the spot is beyond you, you’re not quite willing to admit that you’d be so willing to keep your job you’d risk a baby and/or STDs.

“A-ah! Y-yes, sir, whenever you’re available, i-i’ll do anything.” You whisper over your shoulder and push your ass up, wanting the sight of his long cock disappearing under the thick cheeks to be as enticing as possible.

You clutch onto the golden plague bearing his esteemed name for dear life, muffling your sounds into the furniture’s lacquer, and let your boss pour all his stress into your holes. You tried to goad him into taking your ass but he gave you an amused chuckle and a firm pat to each cheek, chiding at you that he’d do it properly another time. He’s a gentleman under his silvered tongue and all his golden scales.

Zhongli seems to get fed up with the condom the closer he gets to his roaring orgasm, and all you’re able to let out in a punched squeal as he sharply pulls out and rips the condom off.

“This damn thing,” He huffs, snarling as he tosses the shredded scraps of plastic to the side, sinking back into your pussy in one go. “There, much better.”

You’re discovering that Mr. Zhongli is not the kind of man who groans unabashedly in the heat of the moment, he's prone to contented sighs and easy laughs. The closest you get to anything animalistic is the guttural grunt he lets slip as you clench around him near the end of his deep thrusts, milking him for all the cum this HR nightmare of a quickie can get you.

“One more thing before you go, be a dear and clean that up for me.” He points a black nail down at the puddle of cum expectantly, somehow having pulled his cock free with a wet flopping noise when you were too dizzy to notice, sinking back into his swiveling chair.

Sugar Daddy!Capitano

Your back hits the hotel wall, softened by Capitano’s hands coming to slide in between you and the surface.

“Mmfh- I’ve never… I’ve never done this before.” You shyly admit as your sighs fade into whimpers, the man’s stubble rubbing on your neck during his rain of kisses.

He laughs and his hot breath hits your pulse point, your heart skips a beat. “So you’ve told me. Don’t worry, you’re nothing but safe with me. I’ve already wired the initial 50,000 for our first meeting to your account, we don’t have to do anything that you are not comfortable with.”

You nod and run your fingers through his black hair, offering up more of your unmarked neck. Of course you’re comfortable, you were so nervous you could die hours earlier, but your first sugar daddy experience has turned out to be the ideal. Capitano made sure you were happy and pliant, offering ten times the amount of what most other men would just for this one dinner. What wouldn’t you be down with doing now?

He nips at your bottom lip, wrapping his burly arms around your chubby thighs and hoisting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and giggle as you fall onto the bed of the hotel’s presidential suite. You trade sloppy and clumsy kisses for less and less articles of clothing, he places your jewelry and your accessories neatly on the nightstand.

“So you don’t prick yourself or worry about losing them, bambi.” He explains and pulls you into another syrupy kiss.

You lose yourself to fit of giggles as he reverently kisses down your body. The next hour is spent with your new sugar daddy licking your pussy, eating you out like a man would gulp down an oasis after a lifetime of being stranded in the desert. You couldn’t say how many times you flood his awaiting mouth with your juices and seed, but you’ll always remember how his Adam's Apple bobs on every swallow. As if it nourishes him, replenishes his soul from inside and out, warms like a good hearty soup.

Capitano slithers up your body to stroke a finger down your face, “Are you ready for me, honey? You’re spewing like a fountain but we can always just cuddle.”

“No, I'm ready, I want this, want you. Please, Daddy, need your cock.” And your money, but mostly your cock right now.

You settle into your position on your back and spread your legs, you grab the back of your ankles and keep them that way. Bearing yourself for the hungry gaze of a man twice your age.

“Alright, needy love, aren’t you? Here you go.” He coos, lining up his fat dick with your slick entrance and sinking in.

You almost wish you had turned the lights off. The way his massive looks hovering above yours, muscles tense and waiting to be exercised. You don’t have to look down at where his cock feeds your pussy, it’s like you can feel what every nerve and vein is doing and touching in your guts. You’re so glad the conversation about being tested was had on the sugaring app, you’re both clean and on the pill so you thought why not indulge in another first.

“Gorgeous cunt. Worth so much fucking more than 50,000. You like France, bambi? I’ll get you a castle in the countryside, this pussy would look divine getting pounded in one of their foyer’s and over their balconies.” He groans, husky and scratchy, kissing you and grinding his cock deep in your quivering pussy like you just got married.

You have to show him how to take a video of his goopy cum dripping out of your puffy folds, spreading them with your fingers and pushing it back inside.

The next morning, you wake up to a bundle of fresh roses and a calligraphy note on the pillow next to your head. You smile and take it all in, but eventually you tug on last night’s clothes and grab your bag. You grin down at your phone, feeling the butterflies play war drums in your stomach, this going somewhere good. There are times when you can just tell.

The suite door is locked, a man’s voice outside asks if you’re ready to be taken back to the boss’s home. On the way there you look through your bag, a message from your intuition, and your birth control is gone. But there are listings for several foreign properties, with a sticky note attached to the first.

‘Tell me which ones you like when you get home. I have my broker on the phone.”

Stalker!Childe

It’s a routine for him, slip in under your window, sink onto your bed and straddle your sleeping body, and fill you up with his cum until your belly bloats. You’ve never noticed, he’s good at cleaning up. And if you have, you’re docile enough to let him keep at it. Let the rabid wolf keep pawing at your door with bloody paws, leaving a carcass at your feet and doing it all over again the next day.

You know it’s just your boyfriend loving on you in private until you’re ready to go public. He understands you’re shy, a lot of the partners he’s had in the past haven’t exactly been social butterflies, but baby it’s just little ol’ Ajax! He wouldn’t hurt a fly let alone his precious significant other, don’t be silly. He has these kinds of conversations with you through hushed whispers against your ear and trembling fingers slipping under the straps of your tank top.

Ajax always preps you, save for a couple of times in the beginning because he was too excited. He prefers doing it with his tongue, but he does love a good fingerbanging session. He’d never cause any pain that wasn’t fun for the both of you, cross his heart and hope to die. He even brings a back up inhaler that he stole from your pharmacist in case you lose your current one.

He grins as he shimmies you out of your sleepwear, you never much, another sign that you’re meant to be “Shh, lovebug, I hope you’re having the sweetest dreams right now. I’m just stopping by to say hi. I have to be quicker this time, I'm real sorry, bub.”

Some as-gentle-as-possible rough fingerbanging it is.

Ajax keeps his eyes peeled so wide they burn a little as he crooks and curls his fingers in your tight pussy, marveling at your groggy whimpers that sooner than later snowball into light moans.

“You looked stunning in your outfit today, I like looser tops on you. I can see your titties bounce, swear to god. The leggings were a nice touch too, wanted to jog over during your walk and smack the shit out of it. But that’s not the meet cute you deserve, is it cutie?” He grips your face in one hand, the free one that’s not knuckles deep in pussy juice, shaking your head for ‘no’ for you.

“I promise we’re gonna meet soon, it breaks my heart to see you look so lonely, bub.” He’s not fazed when you seem like you’re waking up, he just ‘aw’s and strokes his thumb on your clit until you’ve fallen back asleep. “I can’t wait. I’ve gone over everything a million times, what I’m gonna wear, what I’m gonna say, our first date, our “first” time, I'm so ready for it all with you.”

You’re adorable, your brow is pinching and you’re tossing and turning. Your soft moans become louder and since you’re a heavy sleeper that doesn’t live in an apartment (not that he’d stop anyway, he’s seen how your next door neighbors check you out when you’re not looking), he scissors his fingers and speeds up the thrusts of his hand.

After months of this and vigorous hours at the gym, his wrist has stopped cramping entirely. He slips his free hand under his jeans and clasps it around his leaking dick, jerking himself off as he finger fucks your perfect pussy.

“Oh, there it is, honey.” Ajax gasps, tightening his grip around his painfully hard cock just as your walls tighten around his fingers. “It’s okay, keep going for me, you can do it.”

He times his strokes to the thrusts of his fingers, his breathing in sync with every rise and fall of your chest. You’re so wet, you’re leaking around his digits, your pussy making a sick squelching sound

“Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum baby, just from fingering your pretty pussy.” He pants, circling his thumb over the head of his weep dick and smearing his precum all over his length.

He’s moving so fast his hand is a blur, and he really doesn’t even register the sensation of fucking himself with his fist. Instead what he feels is the way your thighs seize up and your breath hitches, you arch your back off the bed in your sleep and that’s when he knows it’s time.

“Fuck, okay. Lemme get a little closer, lovebug, don’t want any of it to go to waste, right?” He keeps stroking his throbbing cock and blasting his fingers into your pussy, awkwardly trying to find his footing so he can get a good position.

He takes his fingers out of you and his heart squeezes in his chest when your hips buck after them and you whine.

“Here it comes, baby.” Ajax laughs at his own joke, positioning the tip of his dick right against your hole. With a shaky breath and an even shakier smile, he breaches your hole with only that part of himself, loving the way your cunt welcomes it in.

He laughs again when he floods your insides, crossing his fingers behind his back for this one to take. Don’t worry, it’s only a fantasy for now, you should at least have your first date before he knocks you up.

OBGYN!Baizhu

“Just lie back on the exam chair for me and we can begin.” Dr. Baizhu smiles warmly at you as you nervously play with your hands in the clinical room.

You nod, wanting to speak at little as possible. The chair’s paper covering crinkles and creases as you climb onto it, shuffling around before settling into a somewhat comfortable positon lying on your back. You look to Dr. Baizhu on your right, he’s available on your insurance and he has stellar reviews on any site worth trusting you could find. You’re just anxious anyway, and this is something you have to do, it won’t do you any good to get paranoid about all the things that could go wrong in a doctor’s office.

Baizhu’s eyes crinkle in the corners and he takes a seat on one of those rolling black stools. “So I take it that this is your first pelvic exam? Well, then be assured that you’re in good hands. It’s nothing scary, but I need to make sure your vulva and reproductive organs are in perfect working order.”

You laugh awkwardly and mutter back a “I know, I'm fine. Just a little tired, traffic was a nightmare.”

Your nerves already feel like they’re fading away, Dr. Baizhu’s voice is so pleasant and he has such a kind demeanor, you understand why this clinic was so eager to have him. The woman who signed you in was raving that it was his first day after leaving a major hospital, that they were so lucky and you were too.

“Now I'll have you slide down to the end of the table and put your knees in these stirrups, it’s perfectly safe and if you need to take a breather, please let me know.” He croons, allowing you the freedom and comfort to act on your own. He’d never want to make you feel panicked, as if he were forcibly restraining you.

The exams aren’t really a big deal when you’ve gotten over that hump, but Baizhu knows that first times of any variety can be scary. Especially for skittish patients such as yourself, with as much prey drive as a barn bunny being chased by a sheepdog.

You lie there and endure every probe and thoughtful hum. Your vulva is fine and Dr. Baizhu ends that part of the inspection with a quick pat to your mound, his lips twitching as if trying to resist the urge to kiss.

“Okay, now I'm just going to check out your cervix, keep still.” The man hums, smoothing a hand down your right calf from the stirrup to your knee. “You’ll feel some pressure, but nothing painful.”

“Really?” You bite your lip and eye the instruments on the little table by the sink.

Dr. Baizhu chuckles, “Of course. Some patients do experience pain, but it’s not a definite thing, everybody’s different. At most, you’ll feel a tad uncomfortable and exposed.”

So you brace yourself and expect to feel the cold metal of what looks like some kind of forceps. Instead you look down to see your doctor unbuttoning his pants.

He catches your eye and waves off your concern, “Cold metal just seems so abrasive for your first time. You might do better with a more… human approach, something to test how well you can stretch. Don’t worry, I'll put protection on, I'd be a horrible doctor if I didn't.”

Sure enough he slides a latex condom on, covered in tiny holes but you brush it off as being a part of the design. Baizhu’s cock twitches, feeling a sick thrill at how easy you are, at how he can whip his dick out and you’ll believe it’s in your best interest.

He doesn’t release you from the stirrups, and they rattle as he plunges inside inch by inch. Slowly and mind numbingly, to properly gauge your cunt’s ability to expand around the intrusion. You gape up at him, feeling far more than just a tad uncomfortable and exposed. His lips twitch again, torn between maintaining the facade and stuffing your cervix with his cock or breaking character and dipping down to kiss your adorably parted lips.

“I’d give you a piece of candy if that wouldn’t embarrass you. You’re doing great, just relax and the pressure will ease up.”

“Ngh- hah- O-okay, doctor. Thank you for helping me.” You don’t know why you say it, who thanks their doctors for doing a basic exam? But he groans and his hips rush forward all the same.

Your cunt is impossibly tight, which is to be expected but it’s not any less delightful to experience.

The paper underneath you makes you want to claw your eyes out as his thrusts force your back to slide back and forth on it. That, the stirrup straps clacking, and your shared soft pants are the only sounds in the locked room. It’s not as anxiety inducing as you’d expect, the planets in the office orbit around the doctor and as long as they think he’s in an appointment (and isn’t he?) they won’t interrupt. His eyes crease, he promises to give you a home visit when you’re done here, just to be thorough and make good on that promise of candy.

Something sweet for the embodiment of the cavities is in his soul, cunny strangles him tighter than a noose.

Dr. Baizhu shudders as you reflexively clench around his pulsing cock and attempt to kick out your legs only to be held back by the stirrups, “Don’t mind the mess, ‘s all par for the c-course, my dear.”

You squirt on his next thrust, and your tangy juices drip down onto the cold gray floor. The gooey cum that escapes the holes in the condom follow suit and form a little pool. Dr. Baizhu takes several pictures of your seed heavy pussy with his flip phone for medical reference.

[malewifesband]

i see it often that people do not see laios liking kabru, but in reality laios does like kabru! quite a lot for a guy that (from his perspective) he just met! laios forgetting kabrus exact name is not evidence of disinterest in any way--hes only heard it a couple of times, he struggles with small details (unless you want to argue laios also doesnt give a shit about marcille, chilchuck and senshi, he also forgets small details about them. if you do think this, i think dungeon meshi may be too advanced for you. stick to bluey.), and the man has autism. like near explicitly.

laios offers food from their limited supplies because kabru showed an interest in eating monsters, and makes him an omelette so he can have something to eat even though other food was already being prepared. he listens to kabrus criticism of his behavior and mindset in trying to protect falin even though she was straight up killing people, and tries to drag kabru to safety. he watches kabru defuse the situation between himself and toshiro masterfully, and confides in him how hurt he is that toshiro is so angry and how he mustve done something truly awful to upset him like that. when kabru tells him that meeting him was the best part of his time in the dungeon, laios agrees and says its the same for him (remember: laios doesnt do empty platitudes well--if he said it, he meant it).

when kabru leaves, we get three fucking panels in a row of laios staring after him, flexing the hand kabru was just holding, and reflecting on kabrus words ("next time..?")

when kabru shows up again deep in the dungeon, chilchuck is suspicious, but laios is so excited to see him that he throws caution to the wind and lets kabru hold his hand again despite seconds later crossing succubus off his list of shapeshifters that could be appearing as kabru--a carelessness around monsters and danger laios rarely exhibits. when kabru gives his warning about the canaries, laios is grateful. he notices how often kabru saves his skin

when lycion reveals that kabru lied about wanting to eat the omelette laios made, it breaks his heart because he made that with love! he made it for kabru, and kabru didnt like it, and now he knows kabru was just playing at friendship to use him. that breaks his heart, hes distraught, but he doesnt have time to be hurt about it when marcille needs his help urgently so he turns to run to her. he apologizes to kabru and tries to leave again. he isnt listening to what kabru is saying here because kabru was just revealed as a liar and because it doesnt really cohere (kabru is stuttering and speaking in broken sentences as he tries to explain about the dungeons power) and he needs to save marcille

he doesnt believe kabru wanted to be his friend, because who would? why would laios be special enough, loveable enough, to go through the pains kabru went through, just to be his friend? but when kabru makes the intensity of his desire known, laios promises to feed him again, at a proper restaurant --and again, food is care for laios, to feed someone is to love them. marcille is still his priority bc she is in real danger but he means what he says, he really does want to start over with kabru and be real friends with him

once we hit the resolution of the story, kabru near glues himself to laios, helping him and trying to cement himself as a right-hand man, and making known his intent to support laios no matter what. in the medieval manuscript style epilogue, kabru is one of two friends that stick by laios as he becomes king. both marcille and kabru become the people closest to him (besides falin of course), two friends who will always support him, always let him know when hes fucked up and theyre mad at him, two friends who he can rely on. laios did not have to accept kabru as an advisor, he did not have to ask him to stay with him. he did that because after everything, he trusts kabru now, and knows he can count on him

while laios doesnt give any big monologues about what he likes about kabru, its very clear he does, and we know what things laios values in other people. he appreciates kabrus social skills (very clear in the post canon comic in the adventurers bible), his intelligence, that kabru WANTS to be around him and understand him even though its difficult, his strength, and frankly he does appreciate his charm (three fucking panels straight of staring after him). laios really values people with specialized skillsets who are willing to tell him frankly what they think and advise him in areas he is weak in (something we see in his relationship with... i was gonna say namari but its everyone. he does this with everyone he likes. and in the resolution kabru does this CONSTANTLY he does not go a panel without giving laios his professional opinion on how to deal with people).

in conclusion: arent you hungry, kabru? let laios make something for you

[thewritingrowlet]

The Determined Wife, ft. Red Velvet Irene

tags: creampie, anal, breeding, daddy kink

word count: 6k+

author's note: well, here's the continuation of The Loving Wife—I hope you like this one

p.s. I want to write about Isa or Seeun next; I hope I have ideas for that.

“Hngh? Huh?”, you mumble as your brain kick-starts your body on a brand-new day. As the rest of your consciousness returns to you, you feel weight on the left side of your body. “Who?”, you take a sniff, “oh, Irene”. After getting a grip on the time and day, you close your eyes to get back to sleep. That is, until you feel Irene poking your cheek. “Good morning, my love”, you greet her with closed eyes. “Good morning, honey”, Irene yawns audibly, “do you have work today?”. You tighten your arms around her, “let’s not start our day like that”. “How do you want to start, then?”, she asks, letting out another yawn after, “do you want to breed me first thing in the morning?”. “God, not this breeding thing again”, you think to yourself, “love, are you that serious about getting pregnant?”. You feel Irene rubbing her face against your chest, “I want to have your child—our child”.

You get on top of your wife and hover closely above her face while your hands are planted on either side of her face, “how badly do you want it?”. In the dark, you see Irene smile warmly, “I want it so fucking bad; I want to make you happy”. You clap your hands twice to turn on the lights—God bless modern technology. “Love, you know I’m happy with what we have. I don’t want to burden you with a child—not to mention that you also have a career to pursue”, you try to reason with her. Irene furrows her eyebrows in anger, dissatisfied by your words, “if you use my career against me one more time, I’m leaving you”. You pull her into a sitting position in front of you, “honey, please; I didn’t mean it like that. Surely you know what I’m getting at”. Irene frees her wrists from your grip and crosses her arms, her gaze straying away from yours, “I don’t want to talk to you today. You can go to work if you want to”.

Irene’s behavior leaves you no choice but to give her some space and hope that time will help her come to reason. “I love you, honey”, you dare say, and a part of you expects a slap on the cheek. Seeing that you’re not getting a response from Irene, you get off the bed and get ready for the day ahead. Since you don’t have eyes on your nape, you can’t see that Irene sheds a tear as she feels rejected by you, the person she can’t live without—the love of her life.

-

“Good morning, boss!”, Miss Park greets you excitedly as soon as you enter the company building. “Hi, hello. Good morning”, you return her greeting and shake her hand. “You look like you have a lot of things going on right now”, she comments. You let out a heavy sigh, “I do, actually; had a little disagreement with my wife, and she said she wouldn’t talk to me for the rest of the day”. “Ah, sorry about that, boss”, Miss Park, not expecting such answer, clears her throat to cope with the awkwardness, “anyway, you don’t have much today, sir; just proposals and other paperwork to read and sign”. “Thank you, Miss Park”, you part ways with her in front of the elevator that leads to your office.

You start your routine of hanging your suit jacket on the headrest of your chair and waking up your computer from its slumber. “That’s a lot of emails—how are there 22, man?”, you eye the list of unread emails on your screen, and you see that some of them are paid leave applications that are pending your approval.

When you started your company, you made a commitment to approve such applications without questions and encourage department heads under your command to follow suit. It’s not like it’s a complicated process, anyway; one just needs to fill out a form they can get from HR, ask their manager and head of department to sign it, and then wait for your approval. Such simple steps are set in place to make sure that employees can take a leave in a timely manner—no need to be kneeling and begging for this. Combined with the rules the company has set, you’ve seen reports from employees saying that they’re satisfied with your system.

“Oh, his child is hospitalized; I should visit them later”, you comment as you see an application from a certain Mr. Lee Minhyung from the marketing department. “That’s one down; a few more to go”. You click on the arrow to go to the next email, one from Miss Kim Minjeong, “wait, that’s Mr. Lee’s wife, no?”. Of course you remember; HR notified you by letter and asked you to fire one of them when they learned that they were a married couple.

You read the content of the email, and obviously, she’s also applying for a paid leave; it’s their child who is hospitalized. “Yeah, easy”, you apply your digital signature on the letter as a sign of approval, just like you did with her husband’s. As you’re moving your cursor to go to the next, you wonder what it’s like to have a child, and importantly, what it’s like to be in a crisis involving your child. “I wonder if Irene is ready for such situations”, you sigh, “why are you so determined to have a child, my love?”.

-

“Miss Park, tell Mr. Oh to put the parcel in the car; I’m coming down in a bit”, you say to your secretary over the phone. After getting an answer from her, you put on your jacket and walk out of your office, towards the elevator.

You see a handful of heads of departments on your way down, as they take the same elevator you are. “Any news, ladies and gentlemen?”, you ask. “My son is getting married next week, director—you’re invited to the wedding, by the way”, Mr. Shim, head of IT, shares the good news with you. You shake his hand firmly, “congratulations, Mr. Shim. Send me the details and I’ll be there”.

The rest of your conversations with them are cut short when the elevator stops and opens on the bottom floor, indicating your time to leave. “I’m going to visit someone’s child at the hospital; I’ll see you later”, you exchange goodbyes with the crowd and turn around towards Mr. Oh and Miss Park who are already waiting for you next to your car.

“Is everything in there?”, you ask Miss Park. “Yes, sir. Would you like to be driven for?”, she asks. You shake your head, “no, but I want you to come with me; I’ll need help carrying these stuff—c’mon, let’s go”. You get in your car with Miss Park and drive to the hospital, where the child is hospitalized.

“Excuse me, director”, Miss Park starts a conversation as the two of you wait at the red light, “I know this is presumptuous of me, but can I ask what’s happening between you and your wife?”. “She wants to have a child, Miss Park—that’s all you need to know”, you explain briefly, “why?”. Miss Park pulls out a small envelope from her jacket, “your wife stopped by earlier and gave me this”. You take the envelope from her hands and put it in your pocket, “thanks, I’ll see what this is about later”.

-

You walk with Miss Park towards the child’s room with your hands full of stuff. You’re carrying a basket of fruits in one hand and a box of pudding in the other, while Miss Park is carrying some food for the parents. “Knock on the door, Miss Park. My hands are full”, you gesture to her with your head. Miss Park knocks three times, and not long after, the door swings open. “Director! Miss Park!”, Mr. Lee exclaims, “wha-what are you doing here?”. “Hi there”, you smile, “oh, y’know, just wanted to see your son; maybe I can lift his spirits or something”.

Mr. Lee welcomes you in, and you immediately make eye contact with the boy lying in bed. “Hey, bud. How are you feeling?”, you show him a friendly side of you. He smiles weakly and tells you that he’s feeling better compared to yesterday. “That’s great to hear”, you show him the bag with the pudding in it, “I have some pudding for you, buddy—ask your mom to cut it for you, okay?”. The boy giggles in excitement, and you feel a surge of warmth that you don’t think you’ve felt before.

You grab a chair and sit next to him after handing the stuff to Mr. Lee and his wife. “Hey, buddy”, you gently rub the back of his hand that’s not connected to the IV drip, “what happened to you?”. “I remember feeling weak and blacking out at school, but I don’t remember anything else, sir”, he recalls. “You must’ve been so tired after studying so hard, haven’t you?”, you look over your shoulder and see that Mr. Lee and his wife are smiling at you, seemingly in approval of your actions, “your parents must be proud of you, bud; you look like someone who works hard for school”. The boy beams, and he decides to brag about his grades, “I got a 90 on my last math test, sir!”. You chuckle out loud and pet his head gently, “oi, great job, you! Hey, guess what: I’ll buy you some shoes to wear to school after you leave this place—how does that sound, buddy?”.

You leave the boy’s side after getting a high five from him, and it is now time to speak with his parents. Mr. Lee shakes your hand, “thank you so much, director. About my work—“. You cut Mr. Lee off with a pause gesture, “please, let’s not worry about that right now; I’m not here to talk about your work. Your son is more important than any work, Mr. Lee”. He smiles and bows in gratefulness, “thank you so much, director. I promise I will always work hard”. You pat him on the back while laughing, “you like making me get richer, don’t you, Mr. Lee?”.

When you turn your attention to Miss Kim, she bows in respect. “Thank you for visiting, Mr. Director. It means a lot to us”, she says. It must be true that it only uses two muscles to smile, because you’re not tired of smiling—not even in the slightest. “I’m just trying to help the both of you—ah, can I address the both of you casually? We’re not at the office, are we?”, you say to Miss Kim and her husband. Miss Kim nods, “of course you can, director. Feel free to call us by name”.

You grab the bag of food from the table and hand it to them, “I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet, but if you haven’t, please eat now; I have some sandwich for both of you. Miss Park will keep an eye on your son”. Mr. Kim and his wife say goodbye to their son and tell him that Miss Park will stay with him while they eat, getting a nod in response. “Can we talk while you eat, actually?”, you say to them, and they nod at you, “follow me outside, please”.

You sit on the sofa near the nurses’ station with the couple. “I have some questions if you don’t mind, Minhyung-ah”, you initiate the conversation. “Of course, director. Ask away”, he says. You start by explaining your situation first, “here’s the thing, my wife has been begging me to make her pregnant, and admittedly, I’ve been rejecting her request because she has quite the career and I don’t want her to just throw it away, considering how long it has taken her to build it”. Mr. Lee and Miss Kim look at each other before turning back to you, “I’m guessing you’re curious what it’s like to have a child, especially as a working couple”. “That’s spot-on, Minhyung-ah”, you give him a thumbs-up, “so, can you tell me?”.

“I’ll start first—y’know, as a dad and all that”, Mr. Lee takes a deep breath before sharing his perspective, “personally, director, we were also concerned about our careers at first, but having a child has been the greatest thing in our lives”. Truthfully, you’re surprised to hear such an answer, but before you make any judgment, you ask Miss Kim to share her thoughts first. “I agree with my husband, Mr. Director”, Miss Kim says, “I must say, though, seeing your child get sick hurts so damn bad—this isn’t the first time Daeyoung-ie has been hospitalized, and seeing him lie in bed like that hurts so, so much”. You want to open your mouth, but Miss Kim isn’t done talking just yet. “I can’t explain it but love for your child isn’t similar to love for your spouse, director—something about being willing to do anything for your child isn’t comparable to anything else”, she piles on.

You stay silent as you try to process everything you just heard. “That’s quite the answer, actually”, you rub your chin, “I’ll talk with my wife about it, I guess”. Mr. Lee glances at his wife quickly before turning back to you, “I don’t know about you, director, but the process of making a child is very, uh, fun”. You chuckle out loud, and you see that Miss Kim is smacking her husband while blushing. “I’m sure it is, Minhyung-ah—I mean, look at you: clearly you had fun”, you shake your head in amusement, “alright, Miss Park and I will be leaving after this. I’ll keep my promise and buy your son some new shoes after he’s out of this place, but you’ll need to remind me”.

-

Irene’s Genesis is parked at its usual spot in front of your house, and you feel excited to talk with her about getting her pregnant. You get out of the car after parking it next to hers and run straight to the house. “I’m ho—what the fuck!?”, you see Irene lying on the carpet in front of the TV with nothing but bra and panties on. “Irene? Love?”, you slap her cheeks gently but rapidly to get her to open her eyes, “honey, wake up, please”. You look around the house for signs of what has happened, and you see a tall bottle of whiskey that is almost empty sitting on the table in front of the sofa—no shot glass means that she must’ve drunk it straight from the bottle.

“I… hate you…”, Irene says weakly, her eyelids too heavy to open, “s-stay away f-from me”. Not the best thing you could hear right now, but you’re glad that she’s okay, just drunk—verydrunk. “Let’s move you to the bedroom, okay?”, you carry her bridal style—it reminds you of your first day of being married, actually—and walk towards the bedroom. “P-put me down, y-you bastard”, Irene wiggles around, attempting to free herself from your arms, “I-I’m calling the police if-if you don’t put me down”. Irene has never been this drunk before, and honestly, you don’t know how to take care of her in this state—doesn’t mean you won’t try, though.

You place her on the floor momentarily while you grab a blanket and spread it on the bed. You pick up your wife from the floor and put her in the middle of the blanket and wrap her body with it, just in case she loses control of her actions and starts throwing punches or kicks. “W-what are you doing to me, you asshole—let me go!”, Irene tries to free herself from the blanket burrito, but since she’s very drunk, she’s not strong enough to do anything other than to run her mouth. “Love, it’s me”, you softly say to her, “you’re very drunk, aren’t you, baby?”. “Heheheheh”, Irene laughs, seemingly mocking you, “me? drunk? I’m on cloud nine right now, baby—had to-to take care of myself since my husband wouldn’t”.

Her words sound particularly painful to you right now. You went from feeling excited about talking to her about having a child, to feeling sad about the sight in front of you, and you feel powerless to do anything but let tears run down your cheeks. “Alcohol brings out the best of us, doesn’t it, love?”, you wipe your tears, hoping that doing so will help you calm down faster, “I guess this is how we wrap things up today”.

-

In your peaceful sleep, you’re shown glimpses of what having a child would be like. First, you’re shown a projection of Irene with a big belly; “we have a child, love! I’m so happy to have a child!”, she says. You really want to keep watching this clip, but your brain wants to move on to the next, which is one where Irene is doing tiny jumps while holding your baby, who is wrapped in a small blanket; “who is my good boy, hm? Who is my lovely, handsome boy?”. Like before, your brain quickly moves on to the next part of your dreams. You’re shown images in quick succession of your child taking his first steps, going to school for his first day, and finally, the moment where he makes a vow to never stop loving his wife, and to continue to be with her until death do them part—the speed makes it almost feels like someone is holding down the right arrow key during a PowerPoint presentation.

As soon as the presentation finishes, you’re stirred awake by your brain, as if telling you to start working on making it into reality. Your ability to vividly remember dreams isn’t always helpful because you can indeed remember everything, no matter how scary or joyful it is. “I had a dream, baby”, you say in a soft voice to Irene, who is still wrapped in a blanket, “I saw what it’d be like if we had a child—it was such a beautiful dream, my love”. You rub her exposed cheeks gently as you narrate the rest of your dream to your wife.

“Ah, I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep, love. I’ll go back to sleep now—good morning, by the way”, you say to her as you close your eyes and get ready to get back to sleep. “Wait!”, Irene exclaims in a tiny voice, taking you by surprise, “wait, don’t go back to sleep yet”. You lift your head off your pillow and take a good look at your wife. “Are you alright, love?”, you ask her, trying to gauge her mood. With how limited her mobility is in the burrito, Irene can only shake her head. “N-no, I’m not”, she starts tearing up, “p-please hold me in your arms”.

You unwrap the blanket and hold Irene in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry about the blanket, love. I was just concerned about you punching or kicking me while being drunk”, you spray pecks on her head as a gesture of apology. “I’m sorry—fuck, I’m so sorry”, Irene apologizes as tears start freely flowing out of her eyes, “I-I didn’t have anyone to talk to, s-so I resorted to drinking—please forgive me, my love”. Since Irene is in the mood for apologies, you decide to follow it up with one of yours; “I got your letter yesterday, love. I understand what you were saying, and I’m sorry for not calling you or saying anything back”. Irene shakes her head, “n-no, it-it’s okay, I understand. I-I was just so fucking desperate to do something, s-so I decided to write you a letter”.

As soon as Irene stops crying, you move on to the next subject, which is your little trip to the hospital to visit your employee’s son. “Love, I visited someone’s son at the hospital yesterday”, you say to her, “he fainted at school and was taken to the hospital after that”. “Oh, poor boy”, Irene comments, showing empathy, “so, what then?”. You tell her that you and Miss Park brought some stuff for the boy and his parents; “I also promised him that I’d buy him some new shoes to wear to school”. Irene pecks your cheek as a sign of approval of your actions, “good thinking, my love”.

“Not just that, though”, you pile on, “I also asked the parents what it was like to see their son lie in bed sick like that”. “Yeah? What did they say?”, she asks. You take a deep breath first, “they said that it’s such a painful sight—this wasn’t the first time the boy had been hospitalized, by the way”. Irene can sense that something else is coming from you, so she urges you to keep going. “I just kept thinking about whether you’d be ready for such thing, should it happen to us and our child”.

Irene holds your hands tightly and rubs the back of them gently. “I’ll need you to be with me every step of the way. If I have you next to me, I’ll face anything head on”, she says. You put on an assuring smile, “of course I’ll be there with you, love. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go, is it?”.

Irene gathers her strength and mounts your body, “does that mean you’ll be breeding me? That’s what you’re getting at, isn’t it?”. You run your thumb across her lips, “yes, love, but I want you to do something first”. “What? What is it? Tell me”, Irene starts getting excited at the prospect of getting pregnant. “We’ll be having a lot of sex in the next few days, so I want you to grab a pen and paper and write down your consent so that I won’t have to keep asking”, you say to her. Irene jumps off the bed and runs—or stumbles, rather—out of the bedroom to do what you ask, and while you wait for her, you decide to get ready for sex; you take off your clothes but leave the boxers on for Irene to do the honors and lie down on the bed.

“Here! Here!”, Irene enters the bedroom running and shows you a small piece of paper. You grab the letter from her hands, “let’s see what you wrote, hey?”.

“My name is Bae ‘Irene’ Joohyun, and I am the wife of Director Kang Junho.

I hereby declare that I consent to everything that my beloved husband will be doing to me, as we are trying to have a child of our own. If he wishes to have sex, then I shall comply without asking questions, for I am his beloved wife.

His for eternity,

Irene”

“I know you’re still hungover, but I’ll accept this anyway”, you chuckle as you climb onto the bed, “are we ready?”. Irene joins you in bed and kneels next to you, looking down at herself. “Lo-love”, she says with a tiny voice, “I-I know your dream was about a son, b-but you—erm—you don’t mind having a daughter, do you?”. You take her hands in yours, “of course not, love. Having a child is already such a blessing—it matters little if it’s a boy or a girl”. Irene looks at you with a smile, “that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you”. “Nah-nah-nah”, you deflect, “you just kept saying breed me over and over again”. Irene moves to sit on your lap and pecks you on the lips, “I mean, that’s how a woman gets pregnant”.

“My love, listen to me, please”, you inhale deeply, “I promise you this will be the last time I ask this: what about your career?”. Irene rubs your cheek gently, “love, I don’t care about my career; motherhood will be my greatest achievement—ask me one hundred more times, and I’ll give you the same answer each time”. You move to sit with Irene in your lap. “I will be there with you, love; I’ll be the best father I can be for our children”. “Children?”, Irene bursts out in laughter, “goodness me—now you want to have more than one”.

That’s enough yapping and laughing—it’s now time to fill your wife with baby batter. You place your palms on either side of Irene’s hips and lock eyes with her, confusing her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”, she asks. You smirk, “just thinking about what position I want to fuck you in”. She blushes in response, “w-whatever it is, m-make sure you cum inside”.

You scoot backwards until your back can lean against the headboard. “You want me to ride you, honey?”, she asks, “but what if the cum drips out?”. You shrug, “I’ll just fill you up again”. “Yeah, we can do that”, Irene unlatches her bra and hands it to you, “hold on to this, honey”. Let’s be real, you have better things to hold on to, such as her ass and tits—eh, actually, let’s entertain her for now.

Irene fondles her tits, weighing them with her hands, “do you think they’ll grow bigger, honey?”. You shake your head, clueless, “I don’t know how it works, love. We’ll have to see”. She then holds your hands and places them on her tits, “touch me, please”. “Gladly, baby”, you lick her nipple to tease her.

Irene is great at reacting to stimulations; you’re barely doing anything with her tits, and she’s already squirming around. “Mo-more”, Irene yelps, “oh, please—more”. “Do you think you can give me some breast milk right now?”, you tease her as you squeeze her tits, as if trying to get breast milk out of them. “Prob-probably not”, Irene throws her head back, “I-I don’t think it works like that”. “Ah, unfortunate”, you pinch her nipples, “would love to taste some right now”.  It is when you latch your mouth on her boob that Irene starts moaning loudly.  “Oh, yes, big baby”, Irene palms the back of your head, “big baby can make small babies”. You want to laugh, but you haven’t had enough of your wife’s tits just yet.

Irene’s impatience is showing, as she picks up the pace of her humps. “Please fuck me already”, she begs, “don’t you want to fuck me? Don’t you want to fill me?”. You reach down towards your crotch and hers, “you’re so wet, aren’t you, love?”. “And-and you’re so hard”, she replies. “You know why I’m hard, baby?”, you ask, teasing her one last time. “Y-you—oh, God—you’re hard because you want to fuck me”. You praise her by pinching her nipples, “good answer, baby—now let’s start, hm?”.

You lean back against the headrest and tell Irene that she’s free to do whatever she wants with you. You see that Irene wants to free your cock from your boxers, so you help her out and lift your butt off the bed momentarily. “Who needs a career when you can just spend your days worshipping a cock like this?”, Irene utters, her eyes locked on your erection, “skip work this week, please. It’s not like they can fire you”. True, no one can fire you, but there’s something odd about not going to work, especially as the big boss. “I’ll see what I can do, baby”, you promise her. You keep an eye on Irene, “do you want to suck me off first, baby?”. Your words snap Irene out of her little trance, stopping her from mindlessly stroking your cock; “n-no, let’s skip past that”.

Irene takes off her panties and guides your cock towards her entrance. “I want you so bad, baby”, you egg her on. It is an exaggeration, yeah, but it always works—look, Irene is going down on your cock while moaning! “Oppa”, she calls you by an endearment from way back when, “do you remember our first time?”. You start flipping the pages of your memory to recollect and find the memory with little trouble. “How can I not, love?”, you smile, “you’re my first and only”. Irene lets out a soft yelp when she finally manages to fit your whole shaft inside. “Y-you let me be on top be-because you wanted me to get used to you”, Irene closes her eyes and starts rolling her hips back and forth, “you were splitting me in half, oppa”. Irene’s tight-but-wet grip makes you moan, “it was really hard for me to not just bust right away right there, love”. “Yeah?”, Irene teases with a smirk, “let’s see how long you can hold it in now”.

 “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight”, you grit your teeth, “I love it—I love you”. Irene likes dirty talk, but words of love and affirmation work better on her, proven by how she’s picking up the pace of her bounces. “Yes! Fuck, yes!”, she yells, “I’m perfect for you, daddy!”. You pull her closer to your face so that you can kiss her and show her how much you love her. “Come on, baby. You can do this—fuck, you’re so good to me”, you whisper to her. She plants her forehead on your shoulder and begs for help; “please, please fuck me like you usually do, daddy”. You comply to her request by thrusting up and meeting her in the middle, timing it perfectly to make sure that you can reach her deepest spots.

Irene’s moans are one of the many things you will never get tired of in your marriage. The perfect mix of low- and high-pitched moans (and the occasional yelps and screams, too) makes you feel really good about yourself every single time—the daddy kink is simply the perfect icing on the cake. You don’t really pay attention to yourself, so you don’t know what you look like or what sounds you make during sex, but considering that Irene never complains about it, she probably finds you very attractive during sex—nothing that kills the mood or the like.

“You’re squeezing me, baby”, your focus is turned back to Irene, “you want to cum?”. Irene nods weakly, “please let me cum, daddy”. You never said anything about not letting her cum, but since she’s asking very nicely, she’s more than welcome to cum any time—preferably soon, though; you’re almost on the edge yourself. “Cum for me, baby”, you egg her on, “if you cum now, I’ll breed you”.

Timing couldn’t be any more perfect, as Irene announces that she’s about to cum after a few more bounces. She lets out a very loud scream, but it’s more than fine; it’s not like there’s anyone else in this house other than the two of you—even if the breeding is successful and she’s pregnant, the fruit of the labor won’t be here for another 9 months, so until then, Irene is free to be as loud as she wants.

Irene falls limp to the side, feeling weak from her orgasm, and you use this window to take a breather and get yourself together. “One-one second, please”, Irene squirms around as she basks in the high of her orgasm. “You can take as much time as you want, baby”, you run your hand back and forth on her back to soothe her, “I bet you can’t feel your legs right now”. She chuckles with heavy breaths, “that-that’s your fault, daddy”. You tell her that she can rest while you leave to get some water for her.

When you return, however, you see that Irene’s eyes are closed, and when you lean closer to her, you hear subtle snores coming out of her mouth. You set the glasses of water on the bedside table and pick up the letter to re-read what she’s written. “I consent to everything”, it says, and you’re tempted to push her further. “Let’s see if you’re ready for anal”, you mutter under your breath.

She’s lying flat on her stomach, which allows you access to her rear without having to move her. You make sure that your cock isn’t too dry by slathering spit on the whole thing before you try to pierce her ass. You plant your knees on either side of her closed thighs and spread her cheeks gently to find your target. Even though she has said that she consents to everything, you don’t want to do anything sexual to her while she’s asleep. “Irene, baby”, you pat her cheeks gently to wake her up, “we’re not done yet”. Irene stirs awake and turns her head to look at you, “sorry, daddy; I fell asleep”. You peck the back of her head and tell her that it’s okay. “I’m going again, okay?”.

“Wait, wait—that-that’s not where you breed me, daddy”, Irene grunts in pain when she feels you in her ass. “Consider this your punishment for falling asleep”, you grit your teeth, “fuck, you’re so tight here, too”. “B-but you said it’s okay—AH, FUCK, DADDY!”, Irene lets out a very loud scream when your shaft reaches the deepest point of her ass. “Say your safe word, then”, you challenge her, and Irene shakes her head in response. “N-no, I love getting fucked in the ass”, she grunts, “just don’t cum in my ass, please”. “Oh, yeah, that’s right; we’re trying to get her pregnant”, you think to yourself. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll go back to your pussy after this”.

You lean forward a bit and place your hands on the bed to make sure you’re steady. “Be good, baby”, you whisper to her while you prepare your hips to fuck her ass hard. “Pl-please, just fuck me already”, Irene yelps, “fuck my ass, daddy”. That’s a green light as bright as any, so you start doing what you’re in this position for: to fuck her ass.

Irene’s screams of pain start getting replaced with moans of pleasure, as she gets more comfortable with taking you in the ass. “You’re so hard and big, daddy”, she praises you between moans, “you’re so good at fucking me”. Her praise serves as fuel to your fire of lust, and with a grunt, you pick up the pace of your thrusts. Your wife is reduced to just moans, unable to do anything else but lie flat on the bed while your shaft is stretching the muscles of her rear.

You feel that you’re almost there, so you pull out of her ass and roll her onto her back. “I want to see you, baby”, you say to her before plunging back into her pussy. She feebly stretches out her arms, asking you to hold her in yours. You lean forward and wrap your arms around her body, while your lips crash into hers. “We’re going to have a child, baby”, you say in a soft voice.

-

“Mr. Kang, your wife is about to give birth. Would you like to be present?”, a nurse asks you. “Yes, please”, you get up from the bench, “please show me the way”. The nurse starts walking towards the room where your wife is, and you feel cold sweat running down your forehead. As you follow the nurse, you pray to the higher beings that your wife and daughter will make it out of this in perfect health.

“She’s here, sir”, the nurse opens a door and leads you inside. “Oh my God”, you exclaim; Irene is pinching her thighs until they’re bruised while the rest of her body is drenched in sweat. “My love”, you move to her side and hold her hand to stop her from pinching her thighs, “my God, how can I help you, baby?”.

More and more nurses enter the room, and all you can do is trust them to do what they do best, which is to help during delivery. You try to focus on your wife, but her screams and the nurses’ voices make it very hard for you to do so. One particular scream from Irene wrenches your heart, making you shed a tear. “God, help her, please”, you chant in your head over and over again, praying in your earnest for her and your daughter’s safety.

-

You slowly open your eyes, and you try to make out where you are right now. You gather your strength and stand up from your seat to check up on Irene. “Wait, that’s—“, you rub your eyes to make clear of the sight in front of you. “This is our daughter, honey”, Irene says tearily, “we have a daughter”. “Oh my God, what a blessing”, you let out a sigh of relief, “what happened to me, though? How did I get here?”. Irene places a hand on your cheeks and rubs it softly, “a nurse said that you passed out, so they had to carry you here”. You feel bad for them for having to carry you as a dead weight and you promise that you’ll compensate them later.

“Love, we have a daughter”, Irene repeats as she breaks down in tears, “we have a daughter—can you believe that?”. You place a hand on Irene’s head to soothe her, while you use your other hand to reach for your little daughter. “Hi, baby”, you say gently, “welcome to the world, little one”. The sight makes you shed tears of your own—who knew it would turn out like this, because you certainly didn’t. “What’s her name, honey?”, Irene asks. “Yeseo”, you wipe the tears off your cheeks and peck your daughter over the blanket that’s covering her (because you don’t want to compromise her hygiene or something like that), “your name is Yeseo, my dear—my sweet, sweet daughter”.

-

“Welcome home!”, you excitedly open the doors of your house and lead your wife and daughter, who is peacefully sleeping in her arms, inside. Once they’re in, you close the doors behind you and lead them to sit on the sofa. “I love you so much, baby”, you say to Irene. “I love you so much more, honey”, she replies, “and I love you so much, Yeseo-yah”. You look at your daughter lovingly, and you really want to give her a peck. “Can I peck her, love?”, you ask your wife, earning a laugh from her. “Of course you can; you’re her father”.

Irene hands Yeseo over to you, and you make sure that your arms are perfectly steady. “Yeseo-yah, I love you so much”, you say in the gentlest voice you can come up with, “I will protect you and your mother with my life”. Obviously, she can’t say anything back to you, but you’d like to think that she can hear you, and what’s better for Yeseo to hear first thing than words of love from her parents?

“Love, I want to celebrate”, you say to your wife, your gaze still locked on your baby. “Yeah? How?”, Irene asks, “you want to make more babies?”. “Seriously?”, you look at her with an I-can’t-believe-you-just-said-that face, “no, love; I don’t want to make another one just yet”. Irene laughs out loud, “oh, you know, I was just making sure—so how do you want to celebrate?”. You gently run a finger on Yeseo’s cheek, “I want to make her birthday a holiday at the company, and I want to raise everyone’s salary by 8%”. Your wife moves to sit closer to you and wraps an arm around your back, “yeah, that sounds like a good celebration”.

[pathologicalreid]

stuck between a rock and a hard place | S.R.

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You, an undercover agent, uncover a hidden secret of the country's largest operation, putting your life in danger and under the protection of the BAU.

who? spencer reid x fem!FBI!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, hospitals, medical inaccuracy, drugs, sex crimes/trafficking, attempted sa, reader works in sex crimes. mentions foyet and also 6x24 (supply and demand). established relationship. word count: 7.7k a/n: this has been sitting in my wip folder for far too long. i am now emotionally attached to these two. i will write more of this specific pairing because now all i want is for them to be happy.

Spencer

It wasn’t every day that men and women in suits piled into the BAU carrying evidence boxes, everyone stood up at their desks. Spencer watched as Andi Swann followed in behind the other agents, not even bothering to greet the team as she went straight to Emily’s office.

Prentiss opened the door, letting Andi in before beckoning for Reid to join them. This had to be about you.

Ignoring the way his heart rate spiked, Spencer stood up from his desk and went up to Emily’s office. On the other side of the bullpen, the rest of the team filed into the roundtable room.

“Spencer, have a seat,” Emily offered, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of her desk.

Glancing at Agent Swann, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “No, I’ll stand.”

Andi cleared her throat, looking at Spencer, she spoke, “Y/N missed her last two check-ins. As her next of kin, I need to notify you to let you know that as of now, the FBI is considering her missing.”

He wanted to be angry. He wanted so badly to be mad, but he’d seen this before. Years ago, an agent in Andi’s unit missed her check-ins and the BAU helped find her. More than that, he knew how much Andi cared about her agents, so he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad.

“Section Chief Cruz has asked that the BAU help to recover Y/N,” Emily said, looking at Spencer. “You know I have to tell you that you can’t be on this case,” she explained, leaning against her desk, eyes flickering as she tried to read Spencer’s expression.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer looked at Emily, “Y/N’s gone missing, and I’m not allowed to help look for her?”

Sympathetically, Prentiss shook her head, dark hair swaying with the movement. “You know it’s a conflict of interest to be involved with a loved one’s case.”

“Isn’t that kind of what the BAU does?” He could’ve rambled off a list of BAU agents who worked on cases involving their loved ones – including himself and Emily.

Turning to face Agent Swann, Emily suggested she join the rest of the team in the roundtable room. She waited until the door was closed before speaking again, “When’s the last time you saw Y/N?”

Closing his eyes, he remembered the morning of the day you left, the both of you had stayed up late as if you could delay your departure, but the last time he saw you was when he dropped you off at the Sex Crimes Unit before making his way up to the Behavioral Analysis Unit. “We haven’t even spoken since she left,” he answered, almost a month ago now.

“Is there a chance she tried to reach you or her family?” Emily asked. She had to ask, he knew that, but it didn’t make the questions any less ridiculous to him.

Shaking his head, he began to pace around the office, “No, she wouldn’t have done that. She follows the undercover playbook obsessively. She always said freestyling was like signing your death certificate.” He tried. He tried to get you to leave him breadcrumbs, but you never did.

Nodding, Emily watched as he paced back and forth “When did you get married?”

Pressing his lips into a thin white line, he stopped in his tracks, “When I came back after The Believers. It was the next day.” You had offered to sleep on the couch in an attempt to give him space when he asked you to go to the courthouse with him. That was two months ago now.

He didn’t want space. Not from you. Never from you.

Finally, he sat down.

“Did you tell anyone?” Emily asked, sitting down in the chair next to him. “Did you have a witness to sign your marriage certificate?”

Nodding, Spencer reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and produced three rings, his wedding ring, your engagement ring, and your wedding band. You didn’t have the time to get them soldered together yet. “Rossi was our witness,” he responded, “He was the only one who answered his phone.” He slipped his ring on and closed his fist around your two rings.

After a moment, Emily stood, “I’m going to speak with the rest of the team, but I won’t tell them anything I don’t think is pertinent to the case.” Which was her way of saying ‘Your secret is safe with me.’ “Stay in here as long as you need, Spence,” she offered before walking out, shutting the door tightly behind her.

He thought of the last night you were together. Spencer tried to check in with you, he told you that if your job ever became too much, you just had to tell him, and he’d be there. What he neglected to tell you was that he was beginning to feel like your job was too much for him.

You had given him the opportunity to hold you close, and instead, he let you slip through his fingers.

Opening his fist, he looked down at your rings and the indent they had left on his palm, slipping them back into his pocket before he walked over to the roundtable room. Everyone paused what they were doing to look up at him.

Spencer just shrugged and looked at Emily, “I can’t just do nothing.”

In response, Emily nodded solemnly and suggested he go through the case files with Matt.

It had been hours. The sun had set, jackets had been shed, and takeout had been ordered. The clock behind him showed it was nearly midnight, meaning it had been almost two days since anyone had last heard from you.

“Oh god,” Penelope said, her voice cutting into the thick silence of the roundtable room. Her fingers began frantically typing on her laptop.

Spinning in the office chair, Spencer wheeled over so he could look at the screen, vaguely aware of Emily hovering above him, “What is it? What did you find?”

She hit the keyboard so hard he thought they might break, but she answered, “The trauma center at Johns Hopkins reported a Jane Doe brought in a few hours ago. She matches Y/N’s description.”

“Did they run prints?” Andi asked, of course, there would be red tape if the hospital tried to run your prints, seeing as you were undercover.

Another tap and dozens of files opened, “It looks like she went right into surgery. Uh, the EMTs reported she was listing off a string of numbers when they brought her in… 265D019Z?”

Spencer swallowed thickly, “That’s Y/N’s badge number.”

Shaking her head, JJ looked over at the map of DC on the wall, “It’s a two-hour drive to Baltimore from here.”

“But it’s a thirty-minute flight, Reid, Tara, Swann, and Alvez go. The rest of us will look into what happened from here,” Emily doled out responsibilities, nodding at everyone as the team broke.

Spencer stayed still, still looking at Penelope’s screen, his eyes flickering over the documents. Words jumped out at him, drugged, punctured, and knife. It made his stomach churn. How had you gotten to Baltimore? Your unit had you set up in an apartment near the Hill. When did you travel from the district to Baltimore?

The thirty-minute flight felt like it was hours long, the drive from the airstrip to the hospital dragged on, but thankfully Emily had called the hospital ahead of time to let them know who you were and who was coming for you.

A doctor stopped the four of you from going into the room, a police officer was already stationed outside of the room, and the blinds were closed. Please, Spencer wanted to plead, please just let me see her.

“She’s weak, she just came down from recovery and she hasn’t fully woken up yet,” the doctor said, placing her hands on her hips. “I can’t in good faith let you go in there and badger her with questions. Not with no one in there to focus on her well-being,” she ordered. The doctor stared the four of them down with piercing gray eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer peeked through the doorway when a nurse exited your room. “She’s my wife, I’ll advocate for her,” he responded, hoping the doctor would let him through. He could feel Tara and Luke staring, but he didn’t care.

Nodding, the doctor continued sizing Reid up, “Alright, but just you, for now. She’s not awake enough to be questioned anyway.” Stepping to the side, the doctor let Spencer through before blocking the doorway to everyone else.

In the worst way possible, you took his breath away. Your skin was sallow, you had an IV, nasal cannula, and a chest tube out the left side. Walking to your right, he took a seat next to you, taking your hand in his and pressing a gentle kiss to your bloodied knuckles – evidence that you had put up one hell of a fight. “Oh sweetheart, what did they do to you?” He whispered even though he knew you wouldn’t answer.

Reaching over you, he smoothed your hair from your face, your skin was clammy, probably as a result of blood loss. It looked like they were still transfusing, so you had probably lost a considerable amount of blood.

Shuffling the seat closer to you, Spencer took your hand in his. The doctor came back in holding a tablet, “Dr. Reid?”

He hummed in response, not daring to take his eyes off of you. “What happened to her? Why did she need surgery?”

“She had been bleeding out in an alley, according to the police officers who reported to the scene. The other agents are talking to them now,” the doctor said, tapping a few buttons on the tablet. “She had been stabbed several times in the upper left side, we went in to repair damage to her spleen, liver, and lung. There was some strain to her heart, it appears she was drugged before she was stabbed.”

He intently watched the steady rise and fall of your chest before he spoke up again, “Is she going to be okay?”

Setting the tablet down, the doctor paused before answering, “We’ll know more when she wakes up.”

Spencer leaned back in the chair, finally taking his eyes off of you and looking at the doctor, “Was there anything… did they…” He felt ridiculous, having spent the better part of his adult life in the BAU, and he couldn’t even put the words together.

To his relief, the doctor shook her head, “There were no injuries that suggested she was sexually assaulted.”

Reading the doctor’s badge, Spencer nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Herman.”

“Hit the call button when she wakes up, we’ll need to evaluate her pain and other treatment,” the doctor said, gathering her things before walking out of the room, and shutting the door behind her.

Spencer kept his eyes on you, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently, every once in a while, his phone rang, but he didn’t have the energy to talk on the phone. When his phone buzzed, he pulled it out of his pocket and checked the messages.

Penelope Garcia: How is she? Spencer Reid: Still sleeping. Penelope Garcia: How are you? Spencer Reid: Not sure.

Setting his phone on the table, screen down, he watched you again, every once in a while, your nose would twitch, or your eyes would flutter. Every time he would hold his breath, hoping you’d open your eyes.

He waited, and about an hour after he had arrived, a small, keening noise came from you. His head snapped up at the sound, your eyes were still closed, but you were moving. “Y/N?” He whispered hesitantly, not wanting to wake you up if you weren’t ready. Slowly, he stood up from the chair, not sure if he should keep waiting or if he should hit the call button.

You were muttering something, talking to someone in your sleep, when suddenly you jerked away. Instinctively, Spencer put his hands on your shoulders to stop you from tearing your stitches, and it was that touch that caused your eyes to snap open. “No, no, no, no,” you babbled, frantically looking around the hospital room.

“Y/N,” Spencer said, keeping his hands on your shoulders, “You’re safe, I’m here. You’re at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore.”

With wide eyes, you looked up at him and mouthed the word ‘Baltimore.’ As if you were trying to figure out how you had ended up in Baltimore, something the BAU still hadn’t figured out. “I thought I…” Your voice was nothing more than a rasp, but with the bruises he could now see littering your neck, that didn’t surprise him much. “Did you see it?”

Spencer pushed the call button without you noticing, “Did I see what, love?” He asked, keeping his voice low as he gently sat down on the edge of your hospital bed.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked around the room, “Is Andi here?" Your voice was tight, like you were struggling to breathe. "I need to talk to Andi.”

Helplessly, Spencer watched as the number signifying your heart rate jumped, “Not just yet, alright?” He said, looking up when the doctor and a nurse came through the door.

The doctor introduced herself and started trying to get you to even out your breathing, one of the monitors was beeping like crazy until the nurse hit a button on it.

All he could do was watch, making sure he didn’t get in the way. Listening in to words about medications and making a mental note to research everything. “How’s your pain, Y/N? On a scale from one through ten.” The doctor asked, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Like a seven? When I breathe it’s more like a nine,” you answered, every word was strained. The doctor flashed a light in your eyes, “That isn’t helping,” you said through gritted teeth.

The doctor said something to the nurse, prompting her to nod before pushing something through your IV. After a few moments, Spencer watched as your heart rate lowered and your body visibly relaxed into the mattress. You nodded softly when the nurse asked if that was better.

Dr. Herman left and the nurse scrawled some notes down on your chart, introducing herself as Amelia before she left as well.

“Oh no,” you whispered, looking in the direction of the door. “Is the whole BAU here? How badly did I fuck up?”

Quickly, Spencer shook his head, “You didn’t, at all. It’s just me, Tara, and Luke,” he tried to reassure you as best he could without knowing the full story. “Do you feel up to talking?” He asked, smoothing your hair away from your face.

You nodded gently, “I need to talk to Andi. Alone, if it’s okay with you.”

“I can wait right outside in the hallway,” he offered, holding your hand in his and skimming the pad of his thumb over top of your knuckles.

You hummed contentedly, “Could you see if I can have water?”

Grateful to have something to do, Spencer stood up, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be right back.” He stepped out of the room, garnering the attention of the agents who were waiting in the hallway, all of them staring at Spencer expectantly, “Andi, she wants to talk to you.”

The Unit Chief nodded and disappeared into the room, leaving the door open just a crack.

He was gone for three minutes, that was the time it took him to walk to the nurses’ station and ask if you were allowed liquids and back, but when he returned the door to your room was wide open. “Where did they go?” He asked, looking over at Tara.

She was still leaning against the taupe hospital walls before nodding in the direction of the red exit sign, “Swann was in there for maybe two minutes before she came out in a huff, she took Alvez with her.” Lewis spoke calmly like it didn’t necessarily mean anything to her.

But it did to him. Walking back into your room, he stood at the side of your bed, “What did you tell Andi that you didn’t want me hearing?”

“Huh?” You sounded tired – rightfully so. Your pupils were dilated, which told Spencer that the drugs that the doctors had given you were working.

It comforted him that you weren’t in as much pain, but you were still hiding something from him. “You asked me to leave while you talked to Andi because you didn’t want me to hear what you were telling her. What did you tell her?”

Your face softened as your eyes filled with a different kind of hurt, “Don’t profile me.” You were too tired to hide the pain in your voice.

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, “Don’t lie to me,” He countered. You were lying by omission, but what was worse was that you might’ve been putting yourself in danger.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whimpered.

Spencer’s chest tightened as he watched your eyes fill with tears, he sat down on the edge of your bed and took your hand in his. “I’m not going anywhere. Why would you think I’d leave you, darling?”

Your eyes were half-closed, “because you…” your voice trailed off and he squeezed your hand to get your attention. “When Scratch had Emily, you wanted to kill him,” you murmured.

The air had been knocked out of his lungs. You hadn’t been talking about a divorce. You were saying that you could identify your assailant, and you didn’t want Spencer to know. “I won’t go,” he whispered, “I’ll be right here.”

“It was Jake,” you mumbled, barely able to open your mouth as you fought your exhaustion.

That hadn’t been the answer he was expecting. He swallowed thickly, “Jake did this to you?” He asked slowly, looking at your hand, your fingers intertwined.

Minutely, you shook your head, “Jake blew my cover, Spence.” Yawning, you proceeded to mumble about him doing it on purpose.

Untangling your fingers, Spencer reached out and smoothed your hair away from your forehead, “Get some sleep, angel. I love you.”

You hummed an ‘I love you’ back, and the next moment your eyes were shut.

A nurse came in and asked for a moment while she checked the output of your chest tube, ushering Spencer and Tara out. “Okay, I’ll bite, who’s Jake?” Tara asked, putting a hand on her hip as she looked expectantly at Reid.

“Jake is her partner. When she’s not undercover and just out in the field, they’re partners,” Spencer explained.

Tara pursed her lips thoughtfully, “So, he would’ve known that she was undercover.”

Nodding as the newly added weight of the situation threatened to pull him down, Spencer turned and faced you, watching as the nurse examined you as you slept. “He blew her cover on purpose,” he reached up and rubbed his eye. Jake knew exactly what he was doing when he blew your cover, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you begged Spencer not to leave you.

“We have to go back in and ask her more questions,” Tara said.

Usually, Spencer agreed with Tara, but not this time. He saw the monitors you were hooked up to, he read your chart, and he watched the concerned looks on the nurses’ faces. They all told him that you weren’t stable enough to be speaking, let alone a cognitive interview. “No,” Spencer said finally.

Clearing her throat lightly, Tara stood next to him in the doorway, “We can’t let them get away, Reid.”

“And I can’t lose her,” he rebutted, ignoring the way his voice broke in his desperation. 

Stepping back slightly, the other agent nodded in understanding. “Okay, I’ll call Emily. You go sit with her.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice; he pulled a chair up impossibly close to your bedside and draped his jacket over the back of it before loosening his tie and sitting down.

You

When you woke up, it was still dark outside, but the bright lights of the hospital room made it hard for you to get any real rest. You were pleased to find that, true to his word, Spencer was right next to you when he woke up.

He was sleeping, resting his head on his hand with his wrist bent awkwardly. “Spence,” You whispered, clearing your throat, “Spencer.” You couldn’t reach out to touch him, but you wanted to wake him up, so his wrist wasn’t sore.

Jolting awake, he looked at you, “Hey, did you just wake up? How do you feel?”

It was a weird question, you felt like an absolute dumpster fire. “Better,” you whispered, “less hurt, achier. Sore. I don’t know, my head feels fuzzy,” you rambled, trying to move higher up on the hospital bed, but being limited by the chest tube. “How long do I have to have it?” You asked, staring at the plastic tubing as if you could make it go away via the power of suggestion.

“At least through the night, but it could be longer,” he said, reaching over and smoothing over the edges of your blanket. “Do you know what they gave you?” Spencer asked, shaking out his wrist.

You hummed in response, “No, it was intravenous though. They were big on amphetamines, but it didn’t feel like a stimulant. Benzos maybe,” you told him, your voice was soft. The pain in your throat had subsided after being intubated during surgery, but you were still swollen from when Cal grabbed you.

None of this made sense to you. The one thing that bothered you more than anything else was why Cal stopped when Jake said to. It couldn’t have been as simple as the money.

Spencer must’ve noticed you burrowing into your memories, “You remember everything?” He asked gently.

He knew what he was implying, in more cases involving severe trauma, victims generally remember everything or remember nothing. It was lucky for law enforcement when they remembered, but bad for the victims. Bad for you. “Mostly,” you breathed, avoiding his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you said softly.

“Why? You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he tried to reassure you, reaching out and taking your hand in his.

You hummed, “I don’t remember anything after they drugged me, just the stuff before. Just the…” Your voice trailed off as you returned to your confusion. “Who’s still here that I can talk to?”

He squeezed your hand comfortingly, “Do you feel up to it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice,” you answered him despondently.

Spencer nodded before he got up from his chair, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before he stepped out into the hallway and let Tara in.

The agent smiled at you gently, “Hey, Y/N, how are you feeling?” She asked, sitting down at a free chair at the end of your hospital bed, leaving the chair at your side available for Spencer to return to.

You gave your best attempt at returning the smile before you answered, “I think I’m going to make it.”

As Spencer sat back down next to you, placing a water cup on your bedside table, Tara opened a file and looked through it, “Can you start by telling me a little bit about your assignment? You were undercover as… Barbara?” She read from the file.

Nodding slowly, you held out your hand for Spencer to hold, “Yeah, but they called me Babs.”

Three days ago...

You shifted self-consciously in the gold dress. It was a silky, slippery number that displayed more than you particularly liked. Spencer would probably like it, but he’d hate how uncomfortable you were in it.

Inadvertently, you smiled at just the thought of your husband. It was late, so he was probably at home, reading next to the fireplace. Maybe he was on a case, off somewhere in the United States and saving lives.

It had been twenty-nine days since you had last seen him.

“You look gorgeous tonight, Babs,” Johnathan McCallister, better known as Cal, told you, reaching out and placing a hand on either one of your shoulders before placing a kiss on both cheeks.

Bashfully, you smiled at him, “You’re too good to me, Cal. I can’t believe you got me in!” Deep down, you knew tonight could be the night, you would be able to take down The Program. At least the D.C. chapter of it.

When it was over, you could be Y/N Reid again, instead of Barbara McFarston.

The Program took women around your age and sold them into sex slavery. The chapter in Washington D.C. was one of the most active, which made sense when you looked around the room and saw a majority of the people were elected officials – men and women alike.

Andi Swann had assured you that taking down this chapter would create a domino effect, causing the other chapters to topple. According to her, if you could take down D.C., Miami, and Los Angeles, The Program would most likely cease to exist.

Turning to ask Cal about the selection tonight, you were startled to see familiar gray eyes on your companion’s other side. You felt your façade slip, but only for a second before you pasted a brilliant smile back on your face.

You tilted your head to the side, “And who might you be?” You asked Jake, wondering if Andi had sent him in to get a status report on you.

“Jake Cohn,” he answered, and goosebumps spread over your exposed skin at his answer. He should’ve said William Jacoby, that was his identity for this case.

In horror, you watched as Jake leaned in to whisper something in Cal’s ear, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. You bit your tongue as Cal wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in tightly, “Let’s talk.”

You stumbled a little over your own feet and looked at Jake with wide eyes, the leader forcefully shoved you into a private room, one that would probably light up like a Christmas tree under a blacklight. “What’s wrong, Cal?” You asked, standing up straight.

He reached over and grabbed the back of your neck, gathering the hair at the nape of your neck in his fist. The force of it made you scrunch your shoulders up, “You’re a fucking fed?” He seethed, tossing you to the ground in one swift movement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to convince him. Tried to flip the script so that Jake was the liar instead of you.

Cal grabbed your throat next, holding you down on a booth seat. “Oh, Y/N… Jake’s been one of my best employees for years.” He said, chuckling at the betrayal in your eyes, he only laughed more when you kneed him in the gut. “Oh, I like it when they fight back.”

You shut your eyes tightly as you heard the clinking of his belt buckle, but they snapped back open when you heard the word, “Stop.”

“What? Did you want first go on her?” Cal asked, wiping his cheek – you must’ve scratched him in your struggle.

Jake cleared his throat and met your eyes, “We should keep her clean, you know?” He said, and for a moment you thought he was actually trying to help you, “Think about how much a clean fed would go for here. Especially in D.C.”

And just like that, your hopes were dashed, “he’s right,” you told Cal, trying to formulate a plan.

“Shut up, whore,” Cal spat, causing you to involuntarily flinch.

At least there’s nothing he could call you that you hadn’t heard before, in your line of work, people got very creative.

Cal looked at you, inspecting your neck where he had grabbed you before, “You’ll make me a lot of money, won’t you?” He said, rubbing a hand up and down your arm soothingly before poking you with a needle.

Your legs gave out beneath you, but Jake caught you before you hit the ground. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think he’d do this. I thought he’d kick you out, but I didn’t think…”

Looking up at him, your throat burned, and you weren’t sure if you were going to cry or throw up, but you shut your eyes. “No, you didn’t.” You don’t just casually tell the leader of a sex trafficking ring that the person with them is an FBI agent.

Present

“And that’s the last thing you remember?” Tara asked, scribbling something down in your file.

You nodded absentmindedly, “I think…” Your voice trailed off as you looked at Spencer, “I think Jake might’ve been in charge the whole time. Pulling the strings from behind the curtain while he waited for the perfect time to catch me off guard. That’s the only reason Cal would’ve backed off when Jake told him to,” You proposed your theory, not missing the way Spencer was holding your hand a little tighter than before.

Tara’s brows were raised, “Jake Cohn has worked in the bureau for almost a decade, it would be hard for him to evade detection for that long.”

“But he knows exactly how to evade it,” you rebutted. “He’d know all of the tricks from Sex Crimes and all of my tricks. He- He set me up,” you realized.

Spencer turned around and looked at your monitor, “Okay, let’s take a break. We can talk more later.”

Getting up, Tara let Spencer know she was going to call the rest of the team before she stepped back into the hallway.

“My chest hurts,” you said, hating how your voice sounded like a whine.

In response, Spencer smoothed your hair back in an attempt to comfort you. “Your heart is racing,” he whispered, “Take a deep breath, okay?”

You nodded slowly, breathing in deeply through your nostrils and letting the air collect in your lungs before blowing it out your mouth. Looking up at Spencer, worry plain in his eyes no matter how hard he tried to hide it, you came to a decision, “Spence?”

He bowed slightly closer to you so he could hear you better, “What is it, love?” He moved his hand, so it was gently cupping your cheek.

Leaning into his touch, you whispered, “It’s too much.” The only thing you had left was to hope he knew what you were talking about, the words were too hard right now, but you felt them contributing to the burning in your chest.

“Okay,” he answered. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about disappointing anyone.”

You practically melted back into the hospital bed; the weight of your job eased off of you. Nodding, you closed your eyes, “It’s good, this is good. I just feel crazy, but a good crazy.”

Spencer smiled at you, “Okay crazy,” he whispered, “I’m going to-“ He was abruptly cut off by his phone ringing, furrowing his brows, he swiped the screen and held the phone up to his ear, “Hey, JJ.”

Cocking your head to the side, you tried to listen to JJ’s side of the conversation, but either she was speaking quietly, or Spencer had his phone volume really low. From the way Spencer’s jaw tightened, you knew that this couldn’t be anything good.

He looked at you before looking at the door, “Do you know where?” He said in a tone entirely unfamiliar to you, it was low and steely. Reaching over you, he nimbly pressed the call button on your bed, “Okay, keep me updated.”

“Spencer, what is going on?” You asked as the nurse came into your room, faltering for a moment as she looked at the two of you.

Placing a hand on the bar of your hospital bed, Spencer looked at the nurse, “Do you have somewhere secure she can be moved to?”

The nurse looked shellshocked, surely the FBI occupying the hospital wasn’t an everyday occurrence, “I don’t… I don’t think so?” She seemed unsure of herself.

“Spencer,” you repeated his name.

He turned to look at you, “Jake’s here and he’s looking for you.” Turning back to the nurse, he pointed at you, “She has to be moved.”

“I don’t… I’m just a student, my preceptor is taking a break. I could try to find-“ The nurse stammered nervously. “We don’t usually just move people.”

Nothing about this situation was usual, but one look at Spencer told you this was life or death. Your life or your death. You sighed in defeat, “This is really going to suck.” Reaching over to your side, you gripped the tube that had been draining blood from outside your lung and pulled it out. Like ripping off a band-aid.

In the process, you tore the stitches holding it in place and set off all kinds of alarms, leading to a crowd of nurses and doctors charging into the room.

As someone held pressure down on where you were bleeding, someone said something about moving you to a sterile procedure room, and the nursing student trailed along, whispering “That was the stupidest smart thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

Everything was blurry when you woke up next and, through the blinds, you could see that the sun was finally rising. The warm, orange light peeking through like lines on a piece of paper.

“Hey,” Spencer said from right next to you, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispered.

You looked away from him, back towards the blinds, “Will you open them?” You rasped, your throat felt raw, and your body felt heavy.

He got up and ambled over to the window, twisting the mechanism until the sun poured into your room. “How are you feeling?”

“Heavy,” you whispered, the mental weight of the past several days was threatening to take you down, but physically you felt like Atlas himself, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Spencer hummed in response, “They sedated you, standard procedure for people who rip their own chest tubes out.” He adjusted the way your gown rested on your shoulders, “Luckily you didn’t do too much damage.”

You took a deep breath and leaned your head so you could look out the window. The outside felt so foreign to you now, you couldn’t remember the last time you had breathed real, fresh air. “So, what is the damage?” Your voice was little more than a murmur but with just the two of you in your room, it wasn’t hard to hear.

“You’re going to be fine; they think the tube can go later today. Then they’ll evaluate whether enough you’re strong enough to go home, it’ll probably be another couple of days,” He explained to you, matching your gentle tone. “Johnathan McCallister is in custody, and Jake Cohn is dead,” he told you, studying your face for any kind of reaction.

Closing your eyes, you felt white hot tears stream down your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, laughing a little despite yourself. He probably thought you were losing it, crying over the death of someone who had nearly had you murdered.

The edge of your mattress dipped down slightly, and you opened your eyes to see Spencer sitting next to you, “You don’t need to be sorry, my love.” Gently, he rested a hand on your hip, skimming his thumb over the rough fabric of your hospital gown, “He was like family to you. I’m not sorry he’s dead – I’m not. I am sorry for that loss, though.”

Nodding, you felt it as your face crumpled, leading Spencer to lean down and hug you as best he could. “I’m sorry I scared you,” you said as he pulled away.

Your furrowed your brows in confusion as he reached into his pocket and produced your wedding ring, taking your left hand, he slid the rings on, “For better or for worse, right?”

A small smile grew on your face as the gem on your finger shimmered in the morning light, “for richer or for poorer,” you continued.

“In sickness and in health,” Spencer whispered, eyes flickering around the hospital room.

You reached up a shaky hand and cupped his cheek with your palm, “to love and to cherish.” You said, feeling a dopey, lovesick grin blooming on your face.

He turned his head and kissed the center of your palm, “until parted by death,” he finished, taking your hand in his.

“No dying,” you insisted, feeling your energy begin to drain, you started to understand why the doctors didn’t want you going home for a few days.

Spencer hummed in response, “You almost did. If you hadn’t been found when you were-“ his voice broke off and you had to tear your eyes away from his for a moment. “I still can’t believe you chose that,” he whispered, looking at you like you hung the moon.

Shrugging as if it was nothing, you melted back into the pillows, “I had a split second to weigh my options – get sold into sex slavery or get stabbed in the chest.”

“A catch-22,” he nodded, wrapping his head around your impossible decision. You couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take until the fear in his eyes left.

You shifted a little in the hospital bed, the sheets rustling as you did, “We get it, you’ve read Joseph Heller.”

He smiled at that, the light teasing seemed to bring brightness to his face, “What is it about blood loss that makes you think you’re funny?”

Laughing lightly, you squeezed his hand as tightly as you could manage, “I am funny. And I’m tired.”

“Go back to sleep then, baby,” he said softly, “it’ll all be here when you wake up.”

There was a party in your hospital room. It started with just Emily, coming in because you were finally up to seeing anyone other than Spencer, and it ended up being the entire BAU.

Someone had gone to the apartment and gathered clothes for you so that, once your chest tube was removed, you could put on real clothes. So now you were sitting up, wearing sweatpants and a ratty old college sweatshirt, and laughing with the BAU. You were leaning heavily on Spencer, who was also sitting on your hospital bed, but he didn’t seem to have a problem with keeping you steady.

Luckily for you, no one in the BAU wanted to ask about what had happened on your assignment, they were more interested in the rings that adorned your and Spencer’s fingers.

“I still can’t believe you two secretly got married,” Penelope said. “Of all of the times for me to not answer my phone.”

Next to her, Luke shrugged, “Honestly, I can believe it. It feels like a very Y/N and Reid thing to do.”

Gently, Spencer rubbed your back. His hovering was quickly going to become insufferable, but right now you were welcoming every touch with open arms.

“Well, we’ll have a party for the two of you. When you’re up for it, of course,” JJ said, smiling from where she was standing next to Emily.

You wanted to shake your head and tell them that it really wasn’t necessary, but asking the BAU to refrain from throwing a party was like asking a shark to stop swimming. Instead of debating, you just smiled and bobbed your head.

Eventually, Andi showed up, just as you knew she would. “Hey, guys,” Emily nodded in the direction of the doorway, “Why don’t we go raid the hospital cafeteria?”

After a few more hugs, including a lingering one from Garcia, the BAU, save for your husband, filtered out, and Andi made her way to the foot of your bed. “Hey,” you said, your voice was soft.

Nine years. You had spent nine years in the sex crimes unit. Spencer had done the math, you’d spent approximately seventy-six percent of that time undercover, missing birthdays, holidays, not ever really looking forward to the future. Until now.

You, the most decorated member of the sex crimes unit, were leaving.

Suspiciously, you eyed the files in Andi’s arms, one was a case file, the other a plain manila folder. She silently handed you the case file, and you shared a look with Spencer before flipping it open. “The Program is gone?” You asked, your eyes skimming the folder.

Swann nodded, her brown hair swaying with the movement, “The arrest of the leader of the D.C. chapter greatly contributed to that, but it was the death of the ringleader that took the remainder of The Program down.”

Closing your eyes, you nodded as you tried to process what she was telling you. Jake had been in charge all along. “Andi, I-“

“It was your intel that did it,” she cut you off. “From your last several assignments, everything you collected directly contributed to the downfall of this trafficking network. One of the largest networks the FBI has ever seen.”

She handed you the next file, labeled with only your name. You flipped it open, well aware that Spencer was reading from over your shoulder. “I don’t qualify for retirement,” you told her, furrowing your eyebrows, and looking at the papers in front of you. You didn’t qualify for retirement, and yet, you were looking at a retirement offer.

Your unit chief nodded understandingly, “I pulled some strings, with some help. Collectively, Prentiss and I know a lot of people.”

Spencer placed a supportive hand on your back, and you looked up at Andi. “I’m only thirty-two?” You asked, it wasn’t a clarification, it was a question.

“And yet,” she answered, “you’ve done more for the Bureau than most agents could hope to do in their whole career. This plan came from the director, Y/N. He wanted you to have it.”

Shaking your head, you handed the folder over to your husband so he could look through it. “I don’t… can I think about it?”

“He’ll want an answer soon but talk it over and give me a call when you’ve come to a decision,” she said, grabbing her things and making her way to the door. “And Y/N?”

You lifted your head up to meet her eyes, “Yeah, Andi?”

She smiled at you, a rare, real smile from her, “Make the right decision for you. You have a small army ready to support you through everything.”

Slowly, your gaze followed her out the door, waiting until you heard the latch of the door secure. Spencer handed the folder back to you, “What do you want to do?”

You flipped through the folder again, it was a lot of money, and there were a few different distribution options, but it was more than you felt you’d ever need. “I don’t really feel like I deserve this,” you whispered, reaching your hand up and rubbing the back of your neck. “The Bureau doesn’t offer early retirement like this, not without extenuating circumstances,” you continued.

“They did it with Hotch,” Spencer said, reading the file over your shoulder.

Shaking your head, you leaned over to look at him, “That was way different, Haley was murdered by a serial killer.”

Spencer sighed, “I think you’re selling yourself short, darling. The Program was trafficking almost 12,000 people across the country. That’s almost 70 percent of the yearly total trafficking victims. You took them down,” he told you earnestly.

Your shoulders slouched forward, “I didn’t do it alone, though.”

“Didn’t you, though? They sent you in with no communication device, no emergency signal, and information that wasn’t even true. Your unit told you Johnathan McCallister was the leader of the ring, but it ended up being a decorated agent and you’re the one who figured that out,” Spencer spoke emphatically. “You almost died in the process, and now there are thousands of victims who are going to go home – all thanks to you.”

Wiping at your eyes, you looked at your husband, “You’re biased.” That felt true, but Spencer was the person who knew you best in the world.

“What’s holding you back?” He murmured gently, sweeping strands of your hair behind your ears.

Smiling unsurely, you closed your eyes, “Fear of the future. In the past nine years, the longest I’ve ever been home was four weeks. I don’t… What do you want me to do?”

He shook his head slowly, “it’s not my decision.” A diplomatic answer, you should’ve guessed.

“But what do you want me to do?” You pressed.

Sighing, you watched him weigh his options, “If my choices are you going back out into the field and getting hurt again, where maybe it doesn’t have this good of an outcome, or you, safe at home, where I get to see you more than approximately three months a year, then the choice is clear.”

When he laid it out for you like that, it was pretty clear. “Maybe I could finally see what all the BAU spouses are talking about. You know, how you’re never home,” you said. Some part of you always felt disconnected from the other BAU family members, Spencer wasn’t the one who was never home, you were.

Spencer laughed lightly, “We could celebrate your birthday together.” That was the one day you always missed. Almost six years together, and something always came up on your birthday.

“I’ve never had this before,” you whispered, there was still something about it that felt tentative, almost frail.

Smilingly softly, Spencer reached out and took your hand in his, “Had what before?”

You beamed, “A future to plan.” Everything was always laid out for you, every day was spent waiting for the next directive, a new assignment. “I mean, not in nine years.”

There were always dreams, late-night murmurs with Spencer about a house with a yard and kids running around, but they were just dreams. The nights when you were able to sleep next to each other. “Do you have plans for us?”

Nodding rapidly, you answered, “Oh yeah, you and me, I’ve got big plans for us.”

next

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[hayatoseyepatch]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: It started off simple enough, a little wager that you'd be able to tell the twins apart no matter the situation. You were blindly confident in your abilities, however, you never imagined you'd have to be able to tell which brother was pleasuring which part of your body. 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: Luke & Kieran (Love & Deepspace) 𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.7k 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Luke x Fem!Reader x Kieran. SMUT. 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Sensory Deprivation, Teasing, Oral (Female Receiving), Threesome, Nipple Play, Marking, Free Use, Luke & Kieran being Luke & Kieran.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: When I tell you this idea has been living in my head for literal MONTHS. I've been so excited for this one. I love the twins so much and I feel like they deserve so much more love. I'll take Sylus, Luke, & Kieran please and thank you. Anyways I hope you enjoy, and I'll see you in the next one! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ᵕ`∩꒱ྀིა See my full kinktober master list here.

“Oh? So you think no matter the situation..” Kieran starts, amusement clear in his voice. “You’d be able to tell us apart?” His brother was quick to finish. You had been insistent that despite them being twins and constantly with their faces concealed behind the anonymity of their masks, that you could tell the brother’s apart. You nod confidently, crossing your arms across your chest, cocking your hip to the side. “Absolutely I could. You both sound completely different and have entirely different personalities.” You shrug, the brothers exchanging a glance at one another before Kieran lets out a laugh. Puffing out your cheeks in indignance you poke his chest.

“So confident in fact I’m willing to make a little wager. If I win you both have to take off your masks and let me see your faces.” The two brothers look at each other, taking a moment to have a silent conversation between them both. Kieran being the prouder of the two steps forward offering you a hand. “You got a deal, dove, we’ll discuss what we want from this little bargain after we win.”

You were caught in your tense bout with him, unaware that his brother had snuck behind you, if it wasn’t for his mask you were sure you’d feel his breath against your ear as he spoke. “We have to go on a little mission for boss, we’ll see you when we get back for our little bet, pretty.”

Luke’s hand trails from your shoulder to your hand, pressing it to the cold material of his mask in a pseudo kiss of your hand. Their behavior sat in your mind long after their departure. Sure the two had been flirty with you before, even suggestive in the way they spoke. But this was more forward than they had been. Day faded into night and you figured the two wouldn’t be returning to Sylus’ manor that evening. Deciding to just get ready for bed. Slipping off your bra and your silk nightgown over your head before getting ready to settle into bed. Before you could, however, the door to your room is opened. The two brothers leaning on either side of your doorway. “Hope we aren’t too late, little bird.” Kieran coos, the both of them entering your room and shutting the door.

So caught by him you don’t hear the distinct ‘click’ of Luke locking the door behind him. Kieran approached your bed, crawling onto the mattress, his knees settling on either side of your hips, masked face hovering above your own. “You ready for our little wager, dove?” He purrs, reaching into his back pocket to procure the silk blindfold that sat within its confines, dangling the fabric in front of your face. “Can't have you cheating now can we?” You can hear the grin in his voice, causing confusion to paint your features.

Luke, finally speaks up, standing at the foot of your bed. “Have some manners, tell her what we talked about before whipping out a blindfold, dumbass.” He walks along the side of the bed before sitting next to where you both were, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, he takes a hand, tilting your chin to make you look in his direction. Luke had been the gentler of the two, still just as mischievous as his brother, but there had always been an air of tenderness with the younger twin. “We’ve decided that the best way for you to be able to tell us apart is by taking way some of your senses, doll.” He grins beneath his mask, slipping the fabric from his brothers fingers as he secures it around your eyes, cutting off your sight completely.

“So what’s gonna happen here dove is we’re gonna take turns pleasuring that cute little body of yours.” He coos, you hear a bit of rustling, only for Luke’s voice to come out clearer than you’ve ever heard it. What you think may be his hand, trails up your bare thigh until it reaches the hem of your nightgown. A set of lips beginning to kiss a trail up from your shoulder on your other side. You gasp as the flat of the other twin’s tongue glides up your neck until his lips were pressed against the shell of your ear. “And just when you're about to cum we’re gonna ask you who it is pleasuring that cute little cunt.” His breath is hot in your ear, and the hand that was on your thigh slides up farther, emphasizing the words spoken by pressing on your clit through the fabric of your already damp panties. “If your right, you get to cum and take off that blindfold and see our faces.”

You shudder, hips rolling and a moan slipping from your lips as the fingers now rub tight circles on your covered clit. “And if I’m wrong?” You mentally curse yourself for stuttering, breaths coming in heavy at the attention given to your cunt. A deep chuckle is breathed into your ear before Kieran answers. “Then you keep the blindfold on and we do whatever the fuck we want to you until you guess right or pass out. How does that sound, our pretty little dove?”

His words go straight to your cunt, all you could muster was a nod of your head. The brothers were quick to action with your consent, the fingers pulling from your cunt to slip your panties down your thighs. Both of them remove themselves from the bed, you can hear movement, the two maneuvering themselves to make it a bit more difficult for you to sense where they had gone. After a moment, one brother settles himself behind you, your back now pressed to his chest as he manhandles you into a seated position. Large hands side under the backs of your knees, forcing your thighs apart, exposing your drenched cunt to the twin that slid himself between your legs. Once he was settled, the hands move from your legs to the straps of your nightgown, sliding them over your shoulders, exposing your tits to the cold air of the room.

Kieran struggles to keep quiet, not commenting on the way your nipples pebble, and how gorgeous your tits were. He silences himself by pressing open-mouthed kisses up your neck, not wanting to end the game so soon. His kisses were a mess of tongue and teeth, trailing upward until his lips finally met your own. Unsatisfied with your lips not parting to welcome his tongue, his thumbs flick your sensitive nipples. Using the gasp you let out to his advantage as he slides his tongue past your lips. His fingers make busy work at teasing your buds, rolling them between his thumb and index finger. All while his brother uses his thumbs to part your folds, tongue lolling out of his mouth to lick a fat stripe up your dripping pussy. Groaning deep in his throat at finally being able to taste you after months of yearning to be in this exact position. Your moans are swallowed by the older twin, his tongue never ceasing its assault on your own.

Luke, attempting to mimic actions you would expect from his brother, pulls away from your core, landing a harsh slap against your cunt. He followed with two more in quick succession, grinning at the cries that fall from your lips before diving back into your cunt. Luke returns to returning lapping your center, his tongue alternating between licking fat stripes against your clit to pointed circles tracing shapes against the bundle of nerves. This next action would be the determination of how clouded your mind was. His long fingers, much more slender than his brother's trace your opening. he plunges two digits in your walls, massaging the spongey spot in your depths, the one that made your vision go white, before avoiding it completely, teasing you to the point of tears at the loss of contact as he continues his assault with his tongue. He suddenly pulls away from your sex, sliding his fingers out of you. Before you can fully let the whine at the loss of contact escape, he buries his face back into your folds.

His nose bumps your clit as his tongue invades your entrance, curling inside you. He collects your juices on the wet muscle, withdrawing from inside you he pushes himself up. Tongue lolling out of his mouth, allowing your juices, mixed with his own saliva, to drip down on your neglected clit. He grins at your reaction to his teasing, your hips were already bucking, thighs trembling the brothers could tell you were getting close. Kieran, who never let up his assault on your sensitive nipples, tugs them harshly, relishing in the way you cry out for him. Once they were sure you were drunk enough on the feeling of their combined assault they both spoke at the same time, hoping your mind was hazy enough to not be able to pinpoint their voices. “So, dove, who was eating your cunt?”

Your mind was swimming, so lost in the pleasure of your near release. Their words meet your ears, muffled against the whine that bubbles up in your throat at the loss of contact. While trembling in their arms you whimper out your answer. “Kieran” The name coming out in a pathetic whimper, as you your following words. “Kieran was eating my cunt.” The owner of the name groans at the fucked out way it falls from your lips, and your heart sinks to your stomach as you realize it was right by your ear. He grins against the shell of it his breaths fanning against your skin as he speaks. “uh oh baby, that’s the wrong answer” He purrs, Luke chiming in from between your thighs, you didn’t know when he had risen to his knees, nor when he freed his cock from the confines of his pants. All you knew was that his mushroom tip was now probing your entrance, hand on your hip in anticipation of sinking you down not him. “Guess it's time for us to claim our prize dove.” His words promised this night was long from over, and that by the end of it you’ll never get them confused again.

𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖇𝖞 @/𝖈𝖆𝖋𝖊𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖊 & @/𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖐𝖆-𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖘.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @littleplantfreak @maruflix @stunies @eevees-hobbies @umemiaa @143-ilyuu @uzxotic @serendipitous-fernweh @princesstiti14 (𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙/𝖉𝖒/𝖆𝖘𝖐 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘) (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

[zablife]

Being Benny's Girl Would Include

Benny Cross Masterlist

A/N: After creating a similar list for Johnny, I now have one for Benny. Ty to a lovely anon for requesting it!

Warnings: slightly nsfw, drinking, mention of injury, mention of a weapon

♡ There are many sleepless nights, worrying about him out on the open road. And you have good cause bc he's constantly returning to you bruised and bloodied.

♡ You learn how to dress wounds, even sew a few stitches, bc he's too stubborn to go to a hospital, preferring your gentle touch instead. "You're better than any damn doctor, sweetheart."

♡ If you pout when he returns, he'll try to make you forget how upset you've been with a bit of teasing that cleverly puts something else in the forefront of your mind. "Did you pray for me every night like a good girl? On your hands and knees? Let me see."

♡ When you're feeling clingy, he'll take you down to the bar with him, not giving a shit what the guys think when you leave lipstick on him or pluck the cigarette from his lips for a drag instead of lighting your own. In fact, he encourages your behavior, flipping his chair around in hopes your small hand will nestle into the back pocket of his Levi's.

♡ Benny's not much of a talker, but he opens up to you bc you're the first person who's ever really cared enough to ask the right questions. That makes him want to tell you things he's never said out loud. He confides the ring on his pinkie came from his granddaddy, the only real father figure he ever knew.

♡ He gifts the important possession to you as a sign of his devotion and his heart skips a beat when he thinks about how you wear it on a chain bc it would slip off your delicate finger too easily otherwise.

♡ You're his sweet girl, an angel so precious he has restless nights worrying about you amongst all the burly men in the rough bars and pool halls he frequents. His concerns over keeping you safe giving him full blown insomnia after Kathy is attacked at a house party.

♡ You'll prob find yourself in an empty field the next morning, caged in by Benny's muscular arms, holding his .38 in your trembling hands. Nodding toward the line of beer bottles in the distance as he softly instructs, "squeeze the trigger real slow as you exhale. You can do it, darlin'."

♡ You didn't see the need considering the protective way he drapes his arm over you, eyes cautiously scanning the room with a feral look in his eye. Everyone knows what it means. Touch her and you're a dead man.

♡ He's been known to take things too far, esp when he's drinking. Once a guy collided with you at the bar, spilling beer down your white dress and turning it sheer. The unlucky son of a bitch found himself on the street seconds later facing the broken end of the bottle inches from his throat.

♡ The novelty of having your honor defended loses its appeal with every trip to county. Benny senses it in your anguished sigh and furrowed brow when you come to bail him out, hanging his head shamefully the moment he catches sight of you.

♡ Since there's nothing he hates more than disappointing you, he tries to keep his impulses in check and focus on your needs. "You know I'd do anything for you, angel."

♡ Nothing made your heart race with excitement quite like the day he stole you away for a winding ride that ended under a magnificent orange sunset. When he removed his shirt to make love to you in the tall grass, you glimpsed your name freshly inked over his heart.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Gorefest.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (Jujutsu Kaisen).

Word Count: 1.3k.

TW: Gore, Blood, Major Character Death (Reader Is Fine), Implied Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Touching, Prolonged Stalking, and Delusional Behavior.

You found his latest gift on your doorstep.

It was a heart, this time – deflated but otherwise fully intact, blue viens still visible against pink flesh. A small puddle of blood and other gelatinous viscera surrounded it, but you ignored that in favor of wrapping the disembodied organ in your cardigan and unlocking the door to your apartment, too exhausted to fumble with your keys and too worn down to pretend you still thought you could get away from him on your own. His present was dropped into the ever-bubbling vat of crimson slurry you used to boil down his gifts until they’d been reduced to a less incriminating state, your shoes kicked off and left by the door. You didn’t bother turning on any lights. You were home, but you didn’t want to let yourself acknowledge that until he was gone.

You found Gojo in his usual spot; on the floor of your bedroom, his hands still stained red and one of your threadbare sleepshirts crumpled at his side, the dark material stained with something white and awful. That made two articles of clothing ruined, tonight. A few months ago, when the most he ever brought you was a half-beaten bouquet of roses and a list of questions for the strange man whose favorite place in the world seemed to be your living room, you would’ve been tempted to demand that he pay for the damages. You’d learned better than to imply you wanted anything from him, since then.

He was lying on his side, toying with something large and vaguely circular, his grin that of a cat dropping a slaughtered mouse at its owner’s feet. He was surrounded by more of his ‘presents’ – the disembodied organs of whatever poor criminal or curse user he’d taken it upon himself to dissect. You were glad you’d kept the lights off. You could see the outline of small intestine strung along the walls, assorted gore left in carefully considered piles wherever Gojo deemed it necessary. It’d take hours to clean up, after he left. Demanding that he help would only give him the impression that you wanted to spend time with him, and you weren’t going to make that mistake twice.

You moved to speak, but as always, he just had to be the center of attention. It was like he couldn’t imagine a world where you might’ve done anything but focus on him. “Welcome home,” he half-sung, pushing himself up and pulling his oblong, mishappen keepsake into his lap. “Do you want to start with dinner, or should I run you a hot bath? Or, if you want, you could always have a little of me—”

“Shut the fuck up.” And then, pointing in the general direction of your front door, “Get out.”

“So cold, babe. And after I went through all that trouble to set this up.” The coppery stench was starting to get to you. You could only pray the neighbors wouldn’t notice, or that you’d be able to think of a feasible enough excuse by the time they did. “I got hurt for you, too.” He held up a hand, gesturing towards the faintest, shallowest cut on his cheek. “Aren’t you going to dote on me? You know, like you used to – after you found me in that alley and bandaged my wounds. What was the first thing you said to me? That I was too pretty to bleed to death alone?”

You didn’t encourage him with a response, only crossing your arms over your chest and deepening your scowl. “Get out,” you repeated. “I don’t want you here.”

His grin only broadened. “If you keep saying things like that, I might start to think you’re trying to get me to leave.” Exasperation bled into your agitated expression, and Gojo let out a bark of a laugh. “Look, I know you like to play shy, but I’d really like it if we could use tonight for us. We could watch a movie, or—”

You let out a frustrated groan, dragging your hands over your face. “You know what? Fine. If you want to be here so badly, then stay.” You shut your eyes, standing a little taller. “I’m getting out of here.”

“Running off to spend the night with another man? Ah, what a cold-hearted temptress I’ve fallen for.”

“Oh, I’m going to do more than just spend the night with him.” You really should’ve shut your mouth. You should’ve bitten your tongue, swallowed your pride, refused to tell him anything save for the fact that you weren’t going to stay here any longer. But, the blood in the air was getting to you and you could still feel the cold flesh of the heart against your palm and you needed to get away, and you needed Gojo to know you were never coming back. “I met someone – a sorcerer. He knows you’ve been stalking me, and he offered to help.” You flashed him a grin, almost as awful as his own. “His name is Nanami, and he’s strong enough to keep me safe from people like you.”

You waited for him to laugh, to say he didn’t believe you, or better yet, to get angry, to feel a fraction of the dread and the rage he’d forced onto you. When he didn’t say anything, didn’t scream or yell or gloat, you opened your eyes. He was still staring, but his smile was softer, his eyes half-lidded in a way that could only mean something bad. “Oh, baby,” he started, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Whose heart do you think I went through so much trouble to bring you?”

A pebble threatening to slip off of its cliffside; two ends of a torn wire, a hair’s width away from connecting. Whatever he was trying to tell you, you just couldn’t seem to process it. “What?”

“Right. I’m sorry, sweetheart – that’s on me,” Gojo chuckled. “You were always more of a visual learner.”

The object in his lap was taken up and rolled towards you, coming to a teetering stop at your feet, where the residual light from the hall could illuminate it properly. In a daze, you dropped your gaze to it, allowed yourself to recognize blonde hair, razor-sharp cheekbones, and glassy brown eyes staring lifelessly back at you. There was a dark bruise on his jawline, paled by blood loss, and the mangled stump that used to be his neck was encircled by ragged flesh, as if it’d been torn from his shoulders. Despite everything, his mouth was closed, lips still pressed into a thin frown. As if he didn’t have time to so much as scream before Gojo got to him.

You must’ve passed out. One second, you were staring down at the disembodied head of your savior, and the next, you were on the floor, lying limp and breathless as Nanami’s blood formed a puddle underneath you. Gojo was already at your side, hauling you up and against his chest. You felt his arms around you, then plush of your mattress against your back. You were aware, distantly, that he was straddling you, that his mouth was pressing into the dip of your shoulder, then the curve of your throat. “It’s alright,” he muttered, his voice partially muttered by his closeness. “Why don’t you come stay with me for a while, after this? I’ve got a room ready for you back at my place and everything.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Straightening his back, he let his lips crash into yours – his kiss lingering and deep and filthy. By the time he pulled away, he’d drunk the air from your lungs and frozen the blood in your veins, leaving you as empty and as lifeless as one of his gifts.

You thought, idly, of the heart being reduced to viscera in your kitchen, and wondered if you should’ve held onto it for just a few minutes longer.

“I’ll be able to spoil you properly, once I’ve got you where you’re supposed to be.”

[crushmeeren]

♡ Master List Link

❥ Bakugou / Fem Reader / Todoroki

❥ Everyone involved in this is 18+/aged up.

Warnings; angst/comfort, cursing, vaginal sex, anal sex (double penetration), pussy eating, blow jobs, squirting

Note; This is my first time writing for this pairing and I’ve wanted to for so long.

It’s normal when you and Katsuki argue. It’s normal when Shouto and Katsuki argue. What isn’t normal, are the fights you and Shouto get into.

It only occurs once in a while, but when it does — you end the night miserably with a lump in your throat and an icy chill that shreds and rearranges your stomach.

Unfortunately, despite doing your damndest to avoid arguing with Shouto, this past week has had you itching to chew him out.

Shouto’s assured you and Katsuki at least three times this week that he was going to be home from work to eat dinner with you. Yet each time he’s shown up so late that Katsuki has put the leftovers in the fridge and you two went to sleep.

And this is not even remotely the first time you’ve dealt with this.

It’s not as if you don’t all understand that being a hero will never be a job where you have the privilege of scheduled hours. Shit happens, and it happens often. And Shouto’s not the only one who gets the short end of the stick.

This wouldn’t even get under your skin so badly if he at least could’ve let either of you know he wasn’t going to make it. He hasn’t even done that. He’s been letting his phone die and not bothering to charge it.

“Pick up the fucking phone, Shouto.” You know you have a bitchy attitude, but you’re speaking to his voicemail again.

You exhale a drawn out sigh through your nose and shift in place to unstick your thighs from the leather material of the bar stool you’re currently occupying.

Your kitchen smells amazing because of Katsuki’s cooking and you get even more pissed about all the effort the blonde is putting into this just for Shouto to disregard it.

You set your phone down too harshly, not realizing until you hear an ominous crack of glass that makes you wince. Gingerly you pick it back up and only notice a few hairline cracks, thank god.

“I’m not buying you another new fucking phone,” Katsuki pipes up, sounding much too amused from where he’s stirring something at the stove.

You glare at his back, scoffing in response.

“Well if a certain someone would answer their damn phone I wouldn’t be breaking this one!”

Katsuki is aware of how upset this situation has been making you. He’s been encouraging you not to worry about it because “Shouto has always been an air-headed idiot.” You chastise the blonde when he makes those remarks but you somewhat agree.

He’s so intelligent when it comes to hero work, but relationships have always been….. alien to him.

“So strawberry shortcake’s blowing us off again?” Katsuki asks with no small amount of annoyance.

Your gaze flickers to the blonde’s broad back, studying the way his muscles roll and flex along the edges of his black tank top as he stirs fried rice.

Your brows pull together, scowling as you drum your fingers on the counter top.

“I guess so,” you murmur, sounding and feeling defeated. The sting in your eyes that signals oncoming tears is no surprise. Shouto’s recent behavior has been weighing heavily on your heart. You sniffle as quietly as you can.

Does he even want to be with us anymore?? Does he love me?

You realize you may be overreacting but you can’t help it.

Katsuki has got to be a mind reader — or he most likely heard you sniffling. His palms start crackling as he notices you’re about to cry. He pauses, turning the stove off just to be cautious, and wipes the sweat from his hands on his sweatpants.

He pivots in place and strides over to you with a scowl on his face, taking in the steady stream of tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.

“Look at me, idiot,” he says affectionately, crossing his arms over his chest as he comes to a stop. You stubbornly refuse to turn your chair his direction.

He makes a frustrated noise and grips the back of your chair, physically swiveling you to face him. He steps in between your thighs and you tilt your head downwards, still refusing to meet his gaze. You obnoxiously sniffle. Katsuki scoffs, reaching a hand out to grip your chin.

His thumb and pointer fingers cradle your chin, gently guiding your head up. His sharp expression softens as scarlet eyes flit across your face, taking in how heartbroken you truly look.

A new wave of tears track down your cheeks, a small sob escaping and shaking your shoulders.

“I — I just don’t understand Kat. Why doesn’t Shouto want to come home?” You cry, voice cracking pitifully. You use the backs of his hands to wipe away the never ending tears.

Katsuki can’t stand seeing you this way. He wraps his arms around your head and shoves your face into his chest, smoothing a hand over your upper back in hopes of providing some sort of comfort.

Eagerly, you return his embrace. The warmth of his skin bleeding through the material of his tank top as it catches your sorrow.

“Baby,” he whispers lowly, soothingly. “Shouto‘s not doing this on purpose. I know you know that. His cocksucker of a father is working him to the bone.”

It does little to quell the ache in your chest even if he’s right.

You don’t respond, the build up of frustration and grief from the past couple weeks spilling out of you and onto Katsuki. He kisses the top of your head, resting his cheek there and allowing you to cry until you start to get lightheaded and empty.

Eventually your sobbing subsides and you release the death grip you had on your boyfriend’s shirt. He frees you as you lean backwards slightly, staring up at him with a pout. Your eyes are swollen and heavy, but you feel lighter.

Katsuki gives you a half smile, using his thumbs to tenderly wipe away the excess tears under your eyes.

“I’ll still kick his ass if you want,” Katsuki jokes halfheartedly. You laugh softly, the corners of your mouth tilting upwards involuntarily.

He grins fully at you, bending down to press your foreheads together. He places his big hands on your thighs and plants a chaste kiss on your lips.

You respond enthusiastically, sliding your hands up his chest and slipping them around his neck as your lips connect over and over.

He smiles into the kiss and tilts his head minutely, biting playfully on your bottom lip until you open up for him. The glide of his tongue against yours has arousal burning desperately in your lower belly.

You let out a breathy moan and Katsuki’s fingers tighten on your legs before he breaks the rapidly blazing kiss.

Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, catching a whiff of fried rice that reminds you Katsuki had been cooking. The blonde retreats to his full height.

“Kat,” you say reluctantly, grabbing his attention. “I’m not sure I can eat anything right now. I just want to go to bed.” You chew on your bottom lip, fiddling with your thumbs.

He frames your face with his hands, a smirk worming its way onto his mouth.

“Then let me take your ass to bed so you can be my pillow princess for the night,” he says confidently, winking when your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

A pleasant flush travels through your entire body, cheeks feverish as you let out a startled laugh.

Once you nod in agreement Katsuki slips his hands under your thighs and hefts you up out of your seat. You laugh brightly, embracing his waist with your legs and holding onto his neck.

Within a few moments Katsuki’s got you both naked and he’s slipping under the sheets of your bed. Your legs part for him easily, tugging him up and over you until he fits like a puzzle.

When his cock pushes inside of you it’s everything you weren’t aware you needed that night. He rolls his hips sweet and slow until your spine’s bowing off the mattress and you’re crying out his name, being sure to leave scratches on his back.

Later on Katsuki ventures back to the kitchen to put away the food from earlier. He decides he’s going to wait for the dumbass and give him a piece of his mind when he returns home.

Katsuki waits…and waits until he’s sitting up straight and nodding off on the couch.

He uses his fists to rub his eyes and checks the time on his phone only to see that it’s past midnight. Katsuki’s temper flares and he swiftly has to remove his hands from the couch cushions for fear of blasting it to smithereens.

He leaves Shouto a colorful message on a sticky note and promptly goes back to the warmth of the bed and snuggles into your chest until he passes out.

It’s after 1:00 am when a chilly arm circles your waist and tugs you back into a toned chest. Your brain is sluggish in your barely there consciousness but you’re able to recognize that it’s Shouto’s presence behind you. Katsuki’s on your other side, leaving you in the middle.

It’s become somewhat of a habit between the three of you to welcome each other with a few kisses when someone arrives home late. So when you don’t flip over you’re sure Shouto’s confused.

Your chest hurts when you think about facing your boyfriend. Ignoring him is probably hurting him, yet you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.

When it’s clear that you won’t be speaking to him as you pull the blanket up over your shoulder, Shouto tightens his arm and tickles the nape of your neck with a soft exhale.

You don’t speak to Shouto for about two days. The man tries to talk to you, truly he does, but you keep him at arms length.

The first night you return home from patrol, battered and bruised with a headache from hell as you stumble in the front door.

You’d been messaging Katsuki throughout the day, the blonde hero keeping you up to date on Shouto.

He did fail to mention they must’ve had their own argument about the situation, if the recently acquired burn marks on the wall have anything to say about it.

When you make it to your bedroom, it seems they must’ve made up. They’re entangled and naked in the sheets so that solves that mystery. The soft light from the bathroom night illuminates them enough that you can see Shouto’s head pillowed on his chest.

Your stomach drops at the sight, the dull ache of betrayal surprising you as it tries to carve a hole in your chest.

At any other time, you’d love seeing them together. However you and Shouto are still caught up in this ridiculous fight that seems to be more one sided than anything.

With a quiet groan you move into the bathroom, stripping off your filthy clothing and stepping into the shower.

You stand under the scalding water and scrub off the layer of grime you picked up during your shift. As you run the wash cloth over your skin you imagine you’re chipping at the depressing emotions you’re riddled with as well, willing them to go down the drain.

Once you’ve managed to get clean and dressed in one of Katsuki’s oversized T-shirt’s, you find yourself standing unsettled at the edge of your bed. Staring as you contemplate what to do.

An uneasy sensation worms under your skin, lurking as you weigh the options of staying or not. Ultimately you decide to go sleep on the couch.

You make haste with quiet footsteps until Shouto murmurs something unintelligible in his sleep. Your pulse stutters as you still, waiting to see what he does.

He says nothing more and you release the breath you weren’t aware you were holding, sneaking out to the living room.

You settle in on the couch, curling up in a ball underneath multiple throw blankets. Your chest squeezes while you wrestle with your mind until you convince yourself you have to reconcile with Shouto tomorrow.

Shouto wakes the next morning sporting a gray cloud overhead when his alarm goes off. He’s staring intensely at Katsuki’s side profile, admiring how handsome he is. The breeze from the fan brushes over his back and his brows scrunch together in confusion at the absence of your body heat.

He rolls over, eyes widening as he begins to panic when he doesn’t see you there.

Shouto’s heart jumps to his throat as he tumbles out of bed, snagging the blanket around his ankle and jostling Katsuki awake as he goes.

“Oi, idiot! What the fuck are you doing?” Katsuki rasps at an ear splitting volume. He sits up ramrod straight and wears a furious scowl. His gaze narrows as it lands on Shouto who freezes under the heavy glare.

Shouto says your name, glancing at the door as he fidgets in place.

“Where is she? Why isn’t she in bed?” Shouto’s low voice asks, an anxious edge marring it.

Katsuki’s lip curls and his cheeks flush a rosy pink as he rises from the bed. It forces Shouto to take a step back in bewilderment as he’s met with the blonde’s rage.

“You idiot,” Katsuki snarls venomously, shoving a finger into his boyfriend’s chest. “She is here, but she’s sleeping on the couch. You’ve been fucking us off as if we mean nothing to you for the past two weeks and you wonder why she doesn’t want to be in the same bed as you?” Katsuki laughs meanly, pushing Shouto out of his pathway with a lone finger before moving to his dresser. “I thought you were smarter than that,” he sneers, chin raising defiantly.

“I didn’t —,”

Katsuki cuts Shouto off, the muscle in his jaw twitching as his fists curl.

“Don’t you even fucking dare say you didn’t mean to. I don’t give a shit. Fix it Shouto, or I’ll take you on in a fight you won’t win.”

He slams the door to their bathroom shut so hard the frame rattles.

Shouto sinks down onto the edge of the mattress as if Katsuki knocked his knees out from under him. He was too stunned to even get a word in edgewise.

Shouto… knew you were upset, but he wasn’t aware it was this bad.

He stands on wobbly legs, stomach rolling painfully as he robotically gets ready for his shift. He can’t recall the last time he felt so numb.

The second you hear Shouto leave is when you finally open your eyes. You had heard the pair fighting and pretended to be asleep, not wanting a blow out fight to erupt between the three of you.

You feel so guilty, hoping and praying Shouto doesn’t get distracted by this entire ordeal while he’s out on patrol.

This fight isn’t worth risking his life over.

You have to make up with him tonight, it’s gone on far too long.

Shouto’s one of your soulmates, and you’ve loved every second you’ve had the privilege of being a part of his life.

Your footsteps are quiet as you shuffle to your now deserted bed, flopping down and crawling under the covers to wait for Katsuki’s return.

It’s not too late into the evening when the front door finally opens. You’d been mentally preparing yourself for the conversation the three of you would be having tonight.

You’d been nervously biting your nails and lounging on the couch with your feet tucked under you while Katsuki was, to nobody’s surprise, cooking something once again.

You spring out of your seat as Shouto locks the front door, striding to stand a few feet in front of him with a sheepish smile.

His expressions brightens like the sun when he sees you and you don’t even try to stop the grin that tugs at your lips.

In the next moment he’s hugging you, burying his face into your neck as he lifts you off the floor by your waist. Relief unfurls warmly behind your rib cage as you return the affectionate embrace, securing your legs around his waist.

He smells clean as he always does, something similar to a note of cinnamon tickling your nose in the addictive cologne that he wears.

“I’m sorry,” Shouto whispers tenderly, shifting so his forehead rests against your temple when he speaks. He noses at your cheek when you nod, repeating the same phrase so he knows you are too.

“You fuckers just gonna stand here all night?” Katsuki complains with no real heat behind it. You didn’t even hear him approach. You laugh, unwinding yourself from Shouto as he places you back on your feet.

Katsuki’s standing with his hands on his hips, wearing a soft smile that makes him look five years younger.

You tease him and Shouto joins in until the blonde is blushing and cursing you both to hell.

After what feels like the longest conversation of your life, you find yourself on your knees and elbows between Katsuki’s spread thighs. Your ass is high in the air for Shouto who’s settled behind you.

Katsuki’s rock hard, propped up by a couple pillows. He strokes his cock leisurely, biting the tip of his tongue as he leers down at you. You wink up at him and he grins coyly.

Shouto grips your ass and spreads you open. The cool air on your pussy makes your breath hitch.

You moan lowly, nails sinking into Katsuki’s thighs and forehead coming to rest on the blonde’s belly when Shouto’s tongue flicks at your clit. Dragging it up through your lips and swirling it over your rim.

You push yourself up, bracing a hand on either side of Katsuki’s hips as Shouto teases your rim with a slick finger. The blonde smirks when your jaw drops.

“Look at you baby girl, all fucked out and Sho’s barely touched your pussy,” he coos meanly, fisting his cock a little faster.

You attempt to respond but Shouto’s a shit who chooses that exact moment to slide a finger in your ass all the way to his knuckle.

“Shouto,” you choke out. “Keep going, give me another finger,” you plead, rocking back towards him. Shouto obeys, pushing in a second finger with ease and you whine. Your head drops between your shoulders and it gives you the view of Katsuki’s cock twitching in his grip when you let out more noises.

Katsuki notices your stare.

“Yeah? Wanna suck on my cock baby?” Katsuki asks with a lilt to his voice as though he’s offering someone an irresistible treat, cradling your cheek with his free hand and rubbing under your eye with his thumb.

“I do,” you confirm with an eager nod. You bend down to do just that but Katsuki’s shakes his head with a tsk and halts you with a hand around your throat. You glance up at him confused. He ignores you and levels Shouto with a look.

“Whatcha think, Shouto? Should I let the princess suck me off till you stretch her out?”

Shouto keeps thrusting his fingers, scissoring them a bit as he hums in agreement.

“I think so, yes,” Shouto affirms, something playful in his tone.

Katsuki grins wolfishly at you, placing a hand on the back of your head and pushing until you open your mouth and swallow half the cock pointed up at you in one go. You moan at the feel of his thick shaft on your tongue, bobbing your head slowly and chasing Katsuki when his hips jerk upwards.

“Jesus Christ baby, you have a velvet mouth,” Katsuki praises, husky moans filling the air.

You let Katsuki distract you as Shouto slips a third finger inside your ass, placing his thumb on your clit and rubbing tight circles to balance out the pain and pleasure.

Only a couple minutes later and Katsuki is starting to fidget in place.

“Think you can deep throat me?” Katsuki pants, eyelids fluttering as he waits for your answer. You hum which is the best you can do to say yes, even if your jaw is aching.

The pressure on the back of your skull increases and you relax your throat as his tip pushes past the muscle. You panic only briefly when your airway is cutoff, but hearing the way Katsuki cries out with a high pitched moan as he fills out your throat is worth it. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears gather at your lash line.

“You’re so goddamn hot. Look at those pretty lips stretched so filthy around me. You love sucking cock don’t you?” Katsuki taunts, head tilting backwards with a breathy moan when you whine in response.

He keeps you choking on his dick with a firm hold for at least ten seconds. Until you’re starting to claw at his thighs, until you’re starting to resist, and then suddenly you’re being pulled off him. Your lungs burn, coughing and swallowing air as Shouto takes his fingers from you.

You’re spun around and sat on Katsuki’s lap faster than you can blink as the blonde sits up straighter, saliva covered cock sliding between your ass. Your eyes open wide as you meet Shouto’s yearning mismatched gaze and he gives you a half smile.

Katsuki bends his knees and plants his feet so you’re cradled in his lap, thrusting so his cock catches briefly on your rim before sliding upwards.

“I want you baby,” Shouto tells you sincerely, running his knuckles over your cheekbone. You grin adoringly at him in return, lids fluttering as Katsuki rolls his hips against you once more.

“Someone’s impatient,” you try to tease, but it comes out partially strangled. “I want you too Shouto.”

Katsuki snorts behind you, patting your ass to get you to rise up a bit. You do so automatically.

“Well fuck me then, right?” Katsuki teases as he grips his shaft and lines himself up with you. Shouto rolls his eyes playfully.

“Well she is about to sit on your cock,” Shouto deadpans. You try to cover a laugh by slapping a hand over your mouth.

“You’re a fucking comedian aren’t ya Sho?” Katsuki says with a strained voice as you start to sink down on him. You gasp loudly when he pushes past your tight, slick rim and he moans.

Shouto stays silent, keeping his eyes locked with yours while you take in the blonde’s cock until you’re sitting completely in his lap. It aches, a dull throb as you shift around to get comfortable. Desperate for the pain to go away you start to rise up and down on the cock splitting you open, bracing your weight on Katsuki’s knees.

Shouto squeezes the base of his shaft, twitching in his own grip because the sight of you riding Katsuki, tits bouncing inches from his face is making him want to cum. Now.

The blonde holds your hips, biceps flexing as he helps you move, impatiently working for the pleasure you know is near by. Soon enough, the pain starts to fade and a warm shiver takes it place at the base of your spine, slithering through your veins unabashedly.

You stare at Shouto with half lidded eyes, studying the way his skin flushes as he watches the two of you silently, fisting his cock teasingly. The other hero shuffles closer, leaning forward as you begin slowing to a crawling pace when he gets in your personal space. Katsuki, surprisingly, holds his tongue when you do.

Shouto kisses you then, slightly chapped lips meeting yours. You bring your arms up to play with the soft hair at the nape of his neck, scratching at his scalp and humming against his mouth.

When you can’t breathe any longer you break away, tongue poking out to run over your bottom lip. Shouto peers over your shoulder at Katsuki.

“Can I be inside her now?” He asks restlessly and you practically hear Katsuki’s eye roll.

“So fucking needy,” Katsuki mutters. “Lean back on my chest baby, I’m gonna cum if we stay like this anyways.”

You press one more kiss to Shouto’s mouth and recline until your back hits a solid, warm chest. Katsuki grips under your knees and pulls your thighs back towards you.

You steady yourself by hanging onto to the blonde’s forearms, biting your tongue when Shouto crawls forward. He settles on his knees, stroking his cock as he tilts his head and gawks at the place Katsuki disappears inside you. Gaze flickering over your pussy on display just for him.

“C’mon Shouto, what’re you waiting for?” You encourage him, the anticipation racing down your spine. You involuntarily clench around Katsuki and the blonde hisses when he speaks.

“God, Shouto hurry the fuck up.”

Shouto does hurry the fuck up.

He steadies his cock head against your pussy and begins a leisure press, sliding in in in until you’re completely filled.

They both allow you time to adjust, whispering praise and toe curling, filthy sweet nothings into your ears.

Katsuki is unable to move in his position underneath you both, so Shouto takes control. He helps the blonde support your thighs and essentially fucks you both with deliberate and brain melting thrusts until Katsuki cums first with a choked off cry of Shouto’s name.

Shouto tells him how pretty he is like that and the blonde buries his face in the back of your shoulder.

You’re quick to follow when Shouto curls his hips just right and then your pussy’s suffocating him. You’re scratching at his toned chest and arching your back, leaving angry red lines near his collarbone.

Shouto falls over the edge just knowing he pushed you both to your peak.

As you all soak in the hazy afterglow, you try to catch your breath, leaning your entire weight on Katsuki’s chest as Shouto gingerly pulls his cock out.

“Get the hell off me, my legs are falling asleep,” Katsuki complains playfully. You smack his thigh sharply in retaliation and he laughs.

“Fuck off, I’m going.” Delicately you sit up and rise off him, rolling to the side and flopping onto your stomach with a wariness about how sore you’ll be tomorrow.

You’re unsure what happens next, drifting off until you wake up later in the night clean and with an oversized shirt on again.

You recognize this one as Shouto’s.

Grinning to yourself you turn and check on both men to find them out like lights.

You settle back down between them right where you belong and sleep better than you have for weeks.

[bachiras-toaster]

the student council president’s girlfriend : ̗̀➛

RIN ITOSHI x f!reader

content. rivals to lovers (?), suggestive remarks

wc: 4.5k

synopsis. you’re marked by the student council president as a frequent slacker. after being caught skipping school multiple times, rin itoshi threatens to get you expelled. however, you find yourself to have been given a golden opportunity to dodge this punishment if you pretend to be his girlfriend. while you did hate the man, you figured that you could make the experience entertaining if you agreed, making it your one life’s-goal to piss him off.

Your fruitless attempt to leave the school to skip had been thwarted once again by the relentless determination of the Student President, who spared no mercy as he had grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you into the room of the Student Council, kicking out the remaining members who still lingered inside.

“Out." Rin's cold voice pierced the casual buzz of conversation in the room between Nagi and Reo, sending a shiver down your spine as you realised how serious he was now.

The two lingering Student Council members didn’t need to be told twice before fleeing, passing the President as he dragged you into the door of the room. Rin's grip on your wrist tightened with a seemingly unshakable irritation due to having his day ruined yet again by your continuous inconvenience. His fingers dug into your skin with a vice-like grip that threatened to cut off your circulation, and there was little mercy to be found in his steely gaze.

“Jeez, you could be a little more gentle!” You proclaimed, snapping your wrist away once they had reached the room and backing yourself against a desk to move away from his towering figure.

"You're lucky I'm treating you with this much mercy to begin with," Rin retorted, his tone filled with scorn as he looked down on you with a disapproving glare. His harsh grip on your wrist had left a bright red mark where his fingers had dug into your skin, a testament to his strength. “Most other student council presidents would have already had you expelled from this school by now given your track record."

“So I miss a few classes… Big deal.” You rolled your eyes, massaging the mark he had left on your flesh.

"The big deal is that you've cut classes at least three times this week alone," Rin replied angrily, his tone sharp and harsh. "A few classes would be like missing one day or two. At this point, you're borderline a truant."

“Oh, I forgot I was speaking with the President of Punctuality.” You grumbled, crossing your arms as you tensed your shoulders. “Can’t you just let me off?”

"I can't 'let you off' knowing that you'll just continue to skip classes if I do," He spat back, maintaining his harsh tone. "You need to face the consequences of your actions for once and learn to start attending your classes regularly. Missing a few days here and there is acceptable since life can get in the way, but you've been cutting class far too often and this sort of behavior is unacceptable."

“I authorise my absences most of the time!” You argued.

"Most of the time?" The man scoffed. "Keyword, most. Which means that there's still some cases where you haven't authorized your absences and ended up just skipping school. Besides, I can guarantee you that the student council didn't authorise your absence today considering that I had a list of students who would be absent and your name was most definitely not on it."

“God, why are all the student council so strict” You huffed under your breath. “I swear you’re more strict than the actual professors!”

"Because it's literally our job to ensure that students are actually being responsible and attending their classes instead of skipping out on them to do whatever it is that you troublemakers do," His response portrayed his tone as still cold. "And if you think we're strict then you have no clue how much more lenient we actually are compared to some previous student council presidents. There are others who would have had you expelled from this school by now, believe me."

“Oh, right, you’re so kind.” You rolled your eyes, not helping but facing away.

"I am giving you more kindness than you deserve at this point. The fact that you even still going to this school instead of being expelled and sent to some reform school is a testament to just how lenient the student council and the teachers are. If it were up to me, I'd have tossed you out of school ages ago, but my hands are tied by the whole 'you can't just expel students' rule."

“Because you can’t. Just because daddy’s money is keeping you in the position you’re at now, doesn’t mean you hold any kind of power.” You turned to him with an equally threatening glare, your words piercing into him with such direct accuracy that made it seem like you had always been hoping for a moment to say those words. “You student council folk are all the same. You just sit on your thrones and act better than everyone else.”

"Oh, really?" He snapped, a cold stare boring into her eyes as the temperature in the room seemed to drop significantly. "You think that I got my position because of my dad’s money? Listen closely because I'm going to say this once and only once. I can assure you that I definitely worked my ass off and earned my position fair and square."

His hands curled into fists to showcase his broiling resentment, but that only forced the next words out of your mouth even quicker when you realised how threatened he was.

“You and your older brother are both nepo babies.” You muttered, almost like you were scared to say it due to the possible repercussions. “It’s no coincidence that both of the Itoshi brothers managed to be Student Council President back to back.”

The insult sat in the atmosphere for a long while, before Rin’s eye finally twitched and he found the courage to respond with a higher level of disgust.

"...What did you say?" He asked, his tone dangerously cold as he looked towards you. "Did you just call me a nepo baby?"

“Yeah. Because you are. Am I missing something here?”

"If you think that I got my position because of my brother or dad then you clearly don't know what you're talking about." The president angrily, his aura even more menacing as he took a step forward. "I don't just sit around doing nothing. I do stuff. Serious stuff. I manage the schools budget, I make sure that everything is running smoothly, I deal with students like you. There's a lot that I have to do. You think that I got all that handed to me thanks to my family?"

“Whatever.” You turned your head away to look towards the ground, not bothering to take anything of what he was saying in. "Are we done here?”

"Not even close," He replied, leaning forward a little more and narrowing his eyes in disdain. “Did you seriously just think that you could go around insulting me like that after you were caught red-handed and that I would just let you off without any punishment?"

“What are you gonna do? Give me a detention?” You snorted, humoured by his attempts at intimidation. “Big deal. I’ll just sleep.”

"More than detention. Since you’ve been caught ditching on more than three occasions now, you’re out of free passes. You’re dancing on the road leading to a suspension.” Rin darkened his stare, his tone hinting at a looming threat. “And once that suspension hits your permanent record, I doubt any future schools or universities would even wanna look in your direction.”

Your face actually seemed to fall a little at the threat, and you leaned back against the surface of the table to hide your slightly trembling hands. Having your whole future ruined just because you skipped a few classes?

"However, I might be willing to spare you that fate... Provided that you do something for me." Rin quickly added, looking away towards the wall so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact with you as he put in his request.

You narrowed your eyes.

“The Student Council President taking advantage of an opportunity for his own gain? I didn’t know you were so corrupt.” You spat back teasingly.

"Don’t sink me down to that level... But I do have a proposition for you… It's simple, really. You fulfill this simple request and I’ll revoke all of your strikes.”

“Depends on what.”

"So you're at least somewhat reasonable then.” He turned back to you, lightly itching his face a little as he attempted to find the words to ask— Like he was embarrassed. "…Do you have a boyfriend? Or maybe a girlfriend? Or even a partner of any kind?"

You suddenly felt your eyebrows furrow a little with curiosity as your tensed shoulders dropped the smallest bit.

“…No…” You said shortly. “The hell does that have to do with anything?”

Rin’s cold glare just got even more stone-faced as he continued speaking, hues of red threatening to shine through the skin of his cheeks.

“…I want you to play the role of a girlfriend for me.” He announced to you simply. “It'll only be temporary, just long enough to convince people that we're dating."

“What?” Your jaw was set agape, waiting for him to reveal that it was all some sort of prank. However, his face remained stoic and dead-serious like always. “Why?”

He cleared his throat, going to scratch the back of his neck as his furrowed brows framed the embarrassment on his face even more. He finally cast his eyes towards you, and you could see how humiliatingly genuine his pupils looked towards you.

"For the sake of maintaining my reputation and pleasing my parents. Because he’s certain that me and my brother are going to continue the legacy of our family, he’s trying to set me up with someone surprisingly even worse than you." Rin replied coldly, his tone matter-of-fact. “Since you're always skipping out on class and getting into trouble, rumors about you have been spreading through the school. If you help me and pretend to date me, it’ll make people think that I've managed to reel you in and turned you into a properly behaved student."

“Seriously?” Your expression emphasised your disdain for the suggestion.

"Yes, seriously. My father has been breathing down my neck and insisting that I find someone to date. That's why I need someone the role of my girlfriend." He let out an annoyed huff, folding his arms. “It'll be easy. All you need to do is stick by my side like a regular girlfriend would and convince everyone that we’re dating. I'll do the convincing on my end. I'll make sure that everyone sees us as a couple and is left with no doubt that we're together."

“And why ask me, huh? Why not some other girl?”

"Because you're the perfect candidate. And for a number of reasons," he replied, his tone still serious but also carrying a touch of bitterness that made it almost sound vindictive. "One, you’re not exactly a key figure of the school, so seeing you beside me will likely be the first time students have ever paid attention to you— Which means hopefully our relationship won’t draw as much attention as opposed to if I dated an equally successful girl.” He held one finger down, listening down the reasons. “Two, because of this, dating you won't affect my popularity among students and won't tarnish my 'image'. I'll come out looking like a hero for dating you. People will expect that I'll be able to 'control' and 'tame' you. People will think that my mere presence is enough to get you to behave, and it would then improve your reputation.”

You felt your jaw unhinge a little, shocked— insulted that he would say such a thing.

“For your information, I don’t even bother involving myself in stupid social shit like that. I could care less about reputation.”

"Maybe so, but people still know who you are." He replied. "That alone gives me a leg to stand on with convincing people that I've managed to 'reform' you. Besides, you don’t really have that much of a choice. From where you’re standing, it’d be best if you’d just take the easy way out instead of getting suspended."

Your jaw ticked as your eyes narrowed at him.

Dating him? What a joke. You were practically rivals at this point after he had caught you bending or breaking the rules so many times.

“Suppose I do agree,” You suddenly said, “how long would we need to keep up this whole ‘fake dating’ scheme?”

"A few months. Just until the term ends. We’ll tell everyone that we’ve been dating since the beginning of the year but kept it a secret, and then we can pretend that we had a really sad break up, meaning I can’t date any time soon and my family from pestering me." He explained, shoving his hands into his pockets. “After that, you can go off and do whatever the hell you want— Provided that you still follow the school’s rules. Just stick with this for a little while and I'll be able to get my dad off of my back and keep up my reputation as a great Student Council President."

You pondered the possibility for a moment. In exchange for having all of your strikes wiped completely clean and not having to be suspended, it was a short request, wasn’t it? It was backed up by sound logic and you didn’t exactly lose anything— Except a bit of your dignity after having to pretend to date one of the people you despised most in the world. But you were sure you could at least make it a little entertaining for yourself.

“…Okay, fine.” You nodded in agreement.

"Good. I'll do the convincing on my end and I'll make sure that everyone buys into our fake relationship." He sighed, a stoic tone masking his relief. "Just make sure that you keep up the act and play the part of a good girlfriend when you're out with me. I'll handle the rest."

“Will do, Mr President.”

For the sake of maintaining the idea as Rin’s girlfriend, you actually began showing up to school again. He had explained to you that you had to try and drop the truant nature and be a good student. He made it clear that these demands got into your head as he practically drilled the orders into your brain the night before the next day.

Of course, you nodded along to everything he said, knowing dann well you certainly weren’t going to make it easy for him.

As Rin was walking down the halls, his deadpan expression stretched across his face as he glanced between the students that he passed by, you screamed his name, dashing down the corridor in an attempt to draw as much attention as you could to yourself.

“Rin, there you are!” You giggled, plunging forward to clutch his sleeve tightly, watching as his ice-cold face was laced with shock.

"What the—“ He exclaimed, his cold, neutral expression transforming into a surprised one as he was taken off guard by your sudden approach and her grasp on his arm. He had expected this fake relationship to require minimal interactions between them outside of school as he had planned, but it looked like a certain someone had other ideas. “Huh- Y—Yeah. I'm here. What is it?" He let out an accidental stammer, his voice filling with a hint of irritation and confusion as he tried to come up with an explanation for this sudden behaviour in his mind. He saw almost immediately that your intentions were not pure, and that you were planning to take advantage of the opportunity to try to embarrass or inconvenience Rin while they you were faking the relationship.

“Nothing! I was just lookin’ for you, that’s all.” You batted your eyelashes lovingly, holding him tighter as you pressed your cheek against his sleeve.

He wanted to swat you away with every bit of frustration he had, but when he began to notice how other students around you two began to whisper towards each other, he ceased all desires to yell at you right then and there.

“Who’s Rin Itoshi with?”

“Didn’t you hear? That’s his girlfriend! Apparently they’ve been dating for months now already!”

“I heard it from Igaguri, they’re like— Official!”

Rin remained silent, his icy expression now transformed into a slightly annoyed one as the crowd began gesturing in your general direction with stares of awe. Even though he had expected that people would start to gossip about the two of you, to the point where your 'relationship' would almost seem real, he wasn't prepared for just how much attention you were going to attract

"Well, you found me. So now can be on your way, right?" He replied, trying to gently pull away from you as the whispers continued to grew louder and more curious by the minute.

“Don’t say that!” You whined, holding him tighter now. “You’re not busy, are you? You wouldn’t shun your girlfriend, right?”

It was almost sickening to yourself how close you needed to force yourself against him, but you bit your tongue and just played into the bit even more. You quickly leaned up to whisper mischievously in his ear, pulling him down by the tie to ensure that he would hear what you said.

“Play into the role, that’s what you said, isn’t it? Want people to believe we’re dating? Then act like a boyfriend.” You muttered harshly before leaning back down and fluttering your eyelashes innocently at him, as if you had just whispered a harmless secret.

"I... um..." Rin felt himself lag, his expression turning beet red as you leaned up to whisper in his ear and began to use the innocent act to your advantage. He was completely taken off guard by this sudden new act as his mind ran a million miles an hour trying to catch up. Rin’s irritation was slowly turning into confusion and then, almost against his own will, his face broke out into a frown as he realized he had no choice but to play along with her little game.

“Let’s walk to lunch together!” You suggested gleefully, holding your hand out for him to take.

"...Alright.” He eventually replied, feeling like his words were being twisted out of his control as he reluctantly agreed to your suggestion, placing his palm atop yours.

It was clear that just from the action of hand-holding he was awkward and ill-educated, as he didn’t even hold your hand like a couple would. His palm was simply placed into yours.

It was a good thing he had you leading the way, right?

You irritatingly corrected the action, shifting his palm so that the two of you interlocked fingers instead, clutching his hand tightly to lead him down the hall.

As he began to walk alongside you, he could practically feel all of the eyes on you. It was then that he realised just how effective your act really was. After all, he wasn't the one who was playing the role in this fake relationship. You were too. He had made casual attempts to spread the story of you two dating by subtly slipping the fact into conversation, but it wasn’t nearly effective as what you did— Which was full on public displays of affection. Any outsider would believe that you were just desperate to publicly love your boyfriend after the news of your love had been let out.

However, as annoying as you were, Rin was pleased with how quickly people believed that you were his girlfriend.

The contrast between you and Rin was the most surprising though. Having the cold, icy-glared student council president with a chatty and supposedly reformed slacker attached to his arm was sure to stir up conversation.

“No way that’s Rin Itoshi with (Y/n).”

“Wait, who?”

“She’s the one who never shows up to class, remember?”

“That’s (Y/n)? What the hell is the Student Council President doing with her?”

It became even more clear that you were just emphasising the role just to annoy Rin when you sat down to eat because when you did, you continued to lean on his arm and gush at every little thing he did like an obsessed puppy.

“I had no idea you two were dating.” Isagi, one of Rin’s friends say at the table, smiled as he looked between the two of you. “I didn’t even know you two knew each other.”

"...Yeah, that's a surprise to most people." Rin replied with a dismissive shrug, hoping not to dwell on the topic too much, only for you to cut in and say your piece.

“Yep, we kept it secret until now for privacy reasons, but I’m glad I’m finally able to brag about my prize boyfriend!” You beamed, earning you an eye-roll from Rin. After your constant clinging and gushing, you could tell thathe was already tired from the whole shtick. It was only the start of the day, for Christ's sake.

“Honestly, I didn’t even know you’d associate with someone like her… No offence.” Chigiri said blankly, turning to you.

“None taken.” You giggled, continuing to clutch Rin’s arm. “If you’re worried about my bad studentship tendencies to rub off on him, you shouldn’t worry anymore. I’m leaving my troublemaker past behind! Can’t be tarnishing my boyfriend’s reputation, hm?”

Although it was annoying, he had to admit that you were doing a pretty convincing job at playing the role of a reformed 'girlfriend' with a bit of an obsessive streak. It was getting harder to even stay mad at your behaviour as people around you began to get wrapped up in your little 'love story' and take it as real. Rin only grumbled to himself as he continued to endure the constant teasing and taunting from you, hoping that nobody else at the table would question it.

“When did you two even start dating?” Isagi asked abruptly. “Igaguri said you’ve been dating since the beginning of the year.”

“About seven months.” Rin didn’t even hesitate when answering this question, like he had been practising saying it in the mirror. “We went on a few dates for about a month before we actually made it official though. So we’ve been boyfriend and girlfriend for about six months.”

Of course, none of that was true. You had only agreed to play this fake role just yesterday, however it was crucial for the act that he made it come off as though you had been seeing each other for longer than that. Rin had even been repeating these kinds of questions to himself when he was alone, unbeknownst to you, so he could answer any queries seamlessly.

“I see! You two are a cute couple! Never thought I’d see Mr Stuck-Up with a girlfriend.” Isagi commented with a smirk.

“Right? But he’s just the cutest!” You grinned widely. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me! It’s like I’ve changed for the better because of it!”

"Let’s not go too far…" Rin scoffed irritably. “You don’t have to act like I’m the best thing since sliced bread...” He replied with a slight hint of impatience as the friends around him continued discussing why he would begin dating a 'slacker like her'. Although the whispers weren’t explicitly said to you two, you could still hear every one. In spite of this, Rin kept up the act, continuing to pretend to be like a 'doting boyfriend' who's just as obsessed with her as she was with him.

Though, it seemed that everyone took notice of his irritability, so you quickly swooped in to justify it.

“Oh, we know Rin always acts cold, but trust me— He’s got a soft side for me!” You reassured the rest of them at the table, gaining herself a suspicious look from Rin. “When we’re in private, he’s so loving! You’d never believe it!”

His friends seemed to be a little disbelieving. Rin? Loving?

"Really?" Isagi seemed to reply with raised eyebrows, not quite buying into the idea of Rin being genuinely gentle behind closed doors. "It must be something special. He's never been like that to anyone else."

"Oh, honestly!" You interjected again. "I never thought that he had a kind side until I saw it for myself." You then leaned up to Rin again as you whispered mischievously in his ear, "right?" And this time, your tone felt almost taunting as you waited for him to respond.

"…Yes." He replied, trying his best to sound convincing even when he was getting irritated by the whole spiel. “It's kind of amazing, really. I usually feel so closed-off, but with (Y/n)..." His voice went a bit softer and kinder as he spoke of you. "There's a whole different side to me that she's able to bring out. I feel so comfortable with her."

“That’s so sweet!” Isagi gushed.

“Yeah, it’s almost unbelievable.” Chigiri stared back with a surprised expression.

“Believe me, he treats me in ways I know no one else would treat me.” You said, almost flirtatiously, as you looked towards the others, falling back on your own, annoying tricks. “It’s almost shocking how… Passionate he can be.” You said, tracing your palm slowly over his chest, still staring at his friends.

Rin's expression grew more conflicted and his face turned even redder than before when your hand began lingering over his chest instead of just holding onto his arm. You were being too touchy. Too flirty. Too talkative— Even more so than before.

"(Y-Y/n)..." He mumbled, trying his best to stay calm and not let his irritation show.

”Yes, dear?” You asked, batting your eyelashes towards him, your hand still placed on his chest.

“Stop being so touchy.” He told you quietly, a hint of frustration leaking out. It was starting to get under his skin just how well you were acting out the role… And how strangely you were playing it.

“Oh! My apologies!” You drew your palm away and glanced at the others. “I realise that they shouldn’t know what we get up to in private.” You giggled, which only annoyed him more. Now you were leaving too much to the imagination, especially for your pretend relationship.

"Yeah..." He mumbled, trying his best to stay composed as he noticed the others begin to wonder what exactly he and you were getting up to outside of school now. “Yeah, they shouldn’t…”

Because of the way you were acting, Rin was seriously doubting even bothering with this whole ‘fake dating’ idea. Not because he was seen with you, but because of how your entire dynamic seemed to shift. You had gone from two polar opposites hating each other, to begrudgingly acting alongside each other, but with a clear objective in mind. He hated the falsehood of it all, and he hated how well you played the role.

[gojossocks]

New Romantics

Gojo x reader 𐙚 Genre: fluff, comedy, hurt/comfort 𐙚 Summary: You are the bane of Gojo's existence, at least that's what he tells himself. You're just full of surprises and he can't help but be fully enamored by you. 𐙚 wc: 8.5k 𐙚 content: kinda enemies to kinda lovers, a bunch of high schoolers, gojo is soo out of touch with his feelings, it's in his pov, gojo is sooo down bad, PINING, badass reader, reader is in a clan too! reader smokes ! kinda screams im not like other girls in a less toxic way, jealous! gojo, heavy make out, very self-indulgent HAHA can be read as a standalone. 𐙚 a/n: my first ever series ! it's kinda long but i swear it's fun! :D

series masterlist | prologue

Arrogant. Insufferable. Patronizing. Apathetic. 

The list goes on. 

Granted, Gojo is nowhere near close to you. You were barely friends.

If there is one person in Jujutsu High that he likes the least, it would be you. It’s not like he resents you, it’s just that you represent  everything he hated from being in a clan just like him.

From the way you strut your very expensive loafers to the way you shop to your heart’s content after every mission since your first year. Not to mention that you’re the all-perfect princess that your clan wants you to be. 

“Gojo, please pass me the p-“

“No can do, shorty.”  He chirps, giving you a shit-eating grin. 

You glared at him before motioning Shoko to hand you the pen instead. “Gojo, you know you kinda look like someone I like.”  You didn’t let him finish, crossing your arms before giving him a devilish smirk. “That cute little rat from Shrek.” 

Gojo’s eyes widened at your insult but Suguru and Shoko were already snickering at him. He despises the idea that everyone seems to adore you, except him of course.

In the eyes of the higher ups and your family, you were the sweetest girl ever. Somehow, you’re always growing horns around him. 

Everyone thinks that Gojo’s only messing with you whenever the two of you banter. Hell, there are some students gossiping that he has a crush on you (which he definitely doesn’t) But only Geto and Shoko know how much he actually dislikes you.

You seem so obedient with all your clans orders, following everything that’s asked of you, carrying the submissiveness and elegance a Y/L/N is supposed to have. And if there’s anything Gojo hated the most, it’s tradition. It’s why he’s in Jujutsu High in the first place, he wanted to change the system badly— and seeing you become the embodiment of the tradition he badly wants to change pisses him off. 

Each time the higher ups get mad at him for not being in his ‘best behavior’, your name is constantly echoed around the meeting room. ‘You should be more like Y/L/N’ ‘Bring honor to your clan like how Y/L/N does.’ 

The only act of rebellion that you do is that your hair is dyed in a way that would make the higher ups frown. Your hair is recently dyed bright orange. He finds himself scoffing at the idea that you only get scolded because of a damn hair color. Gojo’s also confused with how cunning and sassy you are when there aren’t any prying eyes. Maybe you’re just doing that to seem cool. 

Well, he just has to avoid you at all costs so you would stop annoying him and pestering his thoughts. 

Unfortunately for him, Yaga has different plans. 

“Satoru. Y/N.” Yaga announces when he was pairing up students for a mission but he doesn’t even get to finish because Gojo emits a loud dramatic groan from across the room. 

“Why?” He whined, tilting his head up to create a dramatic effect. “It’s always been Suguru and I.” 

“Satoru, you and Suguru need to be paired up with someone who's an expert in reversed curse technique. It’s your fault you haven’t learned it yet.”  

Gojo crossed his arms and pouted. “Y/N can kiss my ass, teacher.” 

“No thanks. I’m sure you don’t wash yours. I could smell you from afar, stinky.” Everyone else groaned as the two of you started another banter, forcing the meeting to be 5 minutes longer than usual— particularly because no one dares to cut off your argument (Yaga is too amused because of how much you put Gojo in his place.) 

-.-

The mission didn’t go well. It was the first time you and Gojo worked together, and judging by your huge egos, your banter caused the both of you to get injured– you more so than Gojo. He was too reckless today, attempting to get a reaction out of you, which is why he got caught off guard when a 1st grade curse attacked him.

You pushed him out of the way, causing the curse to land a hit on your shoulder and right arm. Gojo stood still in his place in shock and your right arm was already injured when he snapped out of  his trance. He obliterated the curse easily but the damage has been done. 

You’re just lucky it was a minor injury but the fact that you did that for him, considering how you two were at each other’s necks for the longest time confuses him. It disoriented him until the both of you arrived at Jujutsu High. 

When he got patched up, he stood up to apologize but you were nowhere to be found. He assumes you’ve already healed yourself due to your reverse curse technique ability but he can’t help the nagging feeling in his mind. 

You were quiet today— well, ever since this afternoon. And no he’s not keeping track, he’s just not used to not hearing your snarky remarks and sarcastic comebacks at his attempts to annoy the shit out of you.

You’re just ignoring him, giving short insults in response to his own for the most part of your mission until you shielded him from that curse. 

His guilt weighs on him heavily as he strolls around the school, waiting for Shoko and Geto. but really it’s just to see you. Gojo had noticed that you’re always gone the moment after your mission’s debriefing, sometimes even when you’re injured. 

At last, he saw you just a few blocks away from Jujutsu High, towards the new 7/11 store that opened a few months ago. Gojo tilts his head to the side and furrows his eyebrows before deciding to follow you as discreetly as he could.

He stood near a house behind the convenience store where he could be hidden by a large plant beside it. He watched you grab a few things off the shelves and talk with the cashier, who happily greets you at the counter. You must’ve been here frequently. 

1 can of coke. A box of cigarettes. Coffee. 

Gojo never took you as the type who would visit a convenience store, as shocking as that sounds. He knows you’re rich. Filthy rich. You’ve always been pampered just like him, everything down at your feet because you’re the most powerful sorcerer in your clan. 

Finally, you got out of the store. Gojo’s eyes widened like saucers when you went straight to his hiding spot. 

“You know,” You called out, putting a hand on your hip.  “It surprises me how much of an idiot you are despite being a notorious smartass. Your hair sticks out of the leaves because you’re so fucking tall, Gojo.” 

“Heh.” He rubs his nape sheepishly, offering you a shy grin. “Didn’t think you’d see me.”  

“Really?” You deadpan before walking away from him, back to Jujutsu High. He jogs up to your side. “Why are you hiding anyway? Spying on your rival or something?” 

“Maybe.” He says lightly. It’s the first time any of you are talking normally to each other without malice. “Where are you going?” 

“Somewhere.” 

“Can I come?” He insisted, voice filled with excitement, leaving no hint that he’s gonna stop following you.  A smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

He looks like a puppy, following you around. It’s an amusing sight, even to  you. 

“No.”  You still kept walking, paying no mind as Gojo continued to follow you.

He feels an unusual giddiness at the thought that you hadn’t outright pushed him away because if you really wanted to, you would have told him to leave. 

You lead him to the abandoned fence with the sign ‘DO NOT ENTER’ in the restricted building of the school that had remained under construction for years. It was the tallest building in Jujutsu High. You wordlessly went up to the concealed stairs at the obscured side of the building and onto the rooftop. 

You sat at the edge of the building, your feet dangling off the edge. Gojo cautiously followed your actions, opting to sit next to you. He observes you as you unravel bit by bit and it’s the first time he’s seen you this relaxed and vulnerable—something that you granted him the privilege to see.

Rummaging through your paper bag, you retrieved a can of his favorite drink, Coca-Cola. As you handed it to him, a subtle surprise flashed across his face before he muttered a sincere ‘thanks. 

You then opened your box of Marlboro red and lit up a cigarette, putting it in between your lips before taking a drag. Gojo observes you silently, his mouth agape.  It was a revelation, discovering facets of you that he never anticipated. The act of you casually smoking, the ember casting a faint glow on your features, added another layer to the enigma that you are. 

Gojo stays silent for a few  more minutes or so until you notice his confusion, mainly because his eyebrows are almost meeting and he’s staring intently into the abyss. 

“Are you broken or something? You usually never stop yapping.” You joked, bumping your shoulder to his. 

“I didn’t know you smoked.” Gojo says dumbfoundedly. 

You chuckled but his question was left unanswered. He forgets about it completely because his brain short circuits when you move closer to him, taking off his sunglasses and perching it atop his head. His radiant baby blue eyes are out staring at you intently.

You give him a soft smile and point at the view in front of you. “I love going here after missions, sunset’s beautiful here.” 

“you’re being nice to me. Why?” 

Again. No answer. You just hummed in amusement and no words were spoken afterwards. 

The sun begins to descend, casting a warm, golden glow over the view from below. The city sprawls out beneath the both of you and the skyline extends into the horizon, bleeding in hues of pink and orange. Both of you sit in silence and when Gojo turns to look at you, he feels his heart beat quickening every passing second.

You look so breathtaking as the remaining sunlight kisses your skin, creating a halo effect around you. He suddenly doesn’t know why his palms feel so sweaty and he can’t manage to land a punchline to make you roll your eyes playfully at him. 

“I’m sorry I got distracted. Thank you for saving me today. I didn’t know you’d be more…” He trails off and you cut him off with a laugh so pretty enough that his head whipped to turn to you. 

“Kind? Human? You think I’m just like my clan huh?” You giggled and it shocked him how light you’re taking the situation.

You must’ve gotten used to it.

Just like him.

You stayed silent for a while before speaking in a serious tone. “Just because I don’t defy my clan’s ideals freely as you do doesn’t mean I’m not against it. When you’re a woman, you have to play nice, you know? I don’t have much of a choice unlike you. I know you don’t like me but I shielded you because you’re my friend.”

It was a wonder for Gojo that he’s the only one you’re not on good terms with out of everyone in Jujutsu High. Hell, he even overheard Yaga asking you to call back those Kyoto Students. It’s a big deal because those pesky Kyoto Students are usually their rivals but for some reason they’re always looking for you.

Then comes the Tokyo students, whom he never sees not greeting you or asking to hang out with you. Come to think of it, their expressions are always brightening up whenever you’re around and he thought that maybe they’re not that welcoming to him because he’s loud. But it’s you. It’s all you. 

From the way you listen intently to your friends, and your saccharine voice asking them about their day or whatever that piques their interest. You care, a lot. You even saved him from that grade 1 curse, resulting in a painful wound on your shoulder. Granted, you had the ability to heal yourself but who was he even in your life? and yet you took the fall for him. 

Gojo always hated that everyone seemed to look at him as that ‘six-eyed kid from the Gojo clan’. He hated the rumors about him just because of your last name— something that he has done to you since the first time you stepped foot into the school. 

He swallows his guilt and sets his pride aside. He wanted nothing more than to make it up to you.  “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ve read you wrong. I thought you were just like the rest of them.”  

“It’s alright.” You say nonchalantly as possible but the voice crack at the end gives you away. Gojo chooses to ignore that. This probably means a lot to you as much as it did to him. “I mean I get it, I actually admire your passion for changing the way our clans lead the Jujutsu World. I think you have the guts for standing up to them just like that.”

“You really think so?’ He scoots closer and gives you a small smile, his heartbeat quickening faster as he feels your warmth— your thighs almost touching. 

“Yeah.” You grinned back, leaning your wait to his side before taking a sip from your coffee. 

“So you think I’m pretty?” He looks at you and bats his eyelashes comedically.

You snorted in response and slapped his arm lightly.  “I’ll throw you off this building.” 

Gojo forgot the passage of time in those 4 hours at that rooftop. The sun had already set and the moon was gleaming, already dark out. He likes talking to you but he enjoys it more when you’re the one doing the talking. 

You talked about your school life, hobbies, even your life with your clan– anything that comes to mind. Talking to you is as easy as breathing. You’re just full of wisdom, kindness, and wit.

Gojo found out today that he actually likes making you laugh, something about it makes his stomach feel funny. He also found out your preferences in coffee, food, and even music. 

“Don’t you dare tell that spot to anyone, Gojo.” You took one of the sweets in his hands and popped it in your mouth before giving him a teasing grin.

You’re now walking side by side on the way to the dormitory. He insisted on walking you to your dorm even if his dorm is from the other side of the building. 

A chuckle escaped his lips as he matched your stride. “Yes, Ma’am.”  He replied with a teasing voice, earning a hum of approval from you. You finally stopped in front of your door. 

“Thank you Goj-” 

“Satoru.” He cut you off,  his voice suddenly softening. As you tilted your head inquisitively, he found himself breaking into another warm smile.  His cheeks ached from smiling too much this evening. “You can call me Satoru instead.” 

“I like saying Gojo, especially when I yell your name when I’m mad at you.” 

“Are you mad at me right now?” He wiggles his eyebrows, earning a playful roll of your eyes in response. 

“No.” 

His demeanor shifted then, almost like he’s surrendering his vulnerability to you. “Then call me Satoru.” You could almost hear the plea in his voice. 

You sigh in mock defeat, your lips curved into a smile as you relented to his request. “Okay, Satoru.”

-.-

“You’re barely hanging out with me anymore, Satoru. Have you found my replacement already?” Suguru says, smirking as he watches his best friend’s eyes widened— a blush adorning Satoru's cheeks.

Satoru fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, causing Suguru to smirk at him. This behavior definitely did not go unnoticed by his best friend. Rarely did Satoru ever get nervous and Suguru was all for it. 

“I was just busy, Suguru. You missed me that much? I didn’t know I am participating in a homosexual relationship with you—”  He retorted, attempting to deflect Suguru. 

But Suguru wasn’t one to let him off the hook easily. “Busy hogging Y/N?” 

Satoru scoffed, giving him a look of disbelief. “Pffft. Nah. Of course not. We’re friends!” He insisted, though the way his gaze momentarily flickered away betrayed a hint of something more.  

It has been nearly 6 months since that evening on the rooftop. Satoru and you have been attached to the hip ever since— or to phrase it better, Satoru has been attached to you ever since. Somehow, you’re a lot more similar than he thinks and because of that, you just know each other a lot deeper.

He also finds himself doing things out of pure interest like walking with you to the 7/11 store after mission just to talk to you til dusk on that rooftop, completely forgetting about his friend group’s game nights. Other times, he reaches for your wrist to encourage you to mingle with other people. He even accompanies you to your monthly shopping sprees in the city or in Shinjuku or Shibuya. He found out you love traveling and going to other places— it clears your mind, you had said. His closet is now full of clothes you helped him pick out, almost half of them you bought for him randomly. 

It’s normal for friends to do that, right? 

Seated side by side, Satoru and Suguru observed how you and Shoko practiced your reverse cursed technique. Satoru’s just munching on the sweets you bought for him while his best friend is clearly enjoying the view of how dumbstruck he is by you. 

“Satoru,” he began. “You’re always following her around, it’s like you’re glued to each other already and you even fell asleep together during movie nights more than 3 times already. The only time you’re not with her is when you’re on missions with me or lunch. Are you already secretly dating?” 

“Yeah, we’re not!” Satoru says swiftly and defensively, causing Suguru to raise an eyebrow at him. “Why are you keeping count anyway?” 

 “Sure, just friends.” Suguru insisted, attempting to downplay the whole situation but Satoru is already growing agitated with the way he’s being teased.  Suguru gave him a devilish smirk.  “What if she dates another guy?” 

Satoru shuts up for a minute before muttering a quiet  “… She won’t.” 

“You don’t sound sure. She eventually will.” Suguru gave him an all-knowing smile and that’s when he knew that Suguru was being serious. 

“Huh?”  Satoru furrowed his eyebrows, casting an accusing look at his best friend.  “How are you so sure?” 

“Shoko said she’s going on dates.” 

Oh. 

So that’s why he’s been seeing you less, and you seem so distracted whenever you guys would hang out. Satoru thought that you were just busy but he didn’t think you’d actually go on dates with anyone. I mean, you’re still young right? Besides, who would be deserving of you?

Satoru didn’t notice that he was staring daggers into Shoko as you hugged her tightly. His expression darkened, jealousy flashing in his eyes before softening as he heard you laugh. 

Pretty. 

You look so pretty. 

Since when did he find you incredibly pretty?

Sure, you were just friends but he doesn’t know why he has this urge to be with you all the time, he even wants to hug you like how you hug Shoko and Utahime. It’s just unfair that you only lean to him or give him a fist bump or when you fall asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He longs to hold you close, to see you every morning, and to be the person that makes you laugh all the time.  

And when you noticed him staring you beamed at him and waved. 

Oh, he definitely has a crush on his friend. 

He didn’t know how much time passed but soon enough his day wouldn’t be completed without seeing you. He actually looks forward now to the meeting with different plans, particularly because you were there with him. And he basically lives now in your dorm room, candy wrappers everywhere and an array of his glasses sit beside your bedside table.

You talk about anything, even the random thoughts that come to his mind. You managed to know him better than Suguru knows him, which is surprising by the way. 

But during the past week, he surprisingly didn’t see you— not even at the rooftop that you both had grown to hang out together. Suguru told him that he acts like he has a ‘stick up his ass’ but he was just worried about you. Have you grown tired of him? It all made him fidget like crazy. 

Satoru caught a glimpse of your bright blue hair after your mission with Suguru. It was the kind of blue that matches his eyes. But he didn’t pay attention to it that much because of your sullen look.

He tried looking for you at the convenience store or your dorm but you were already gone so his last bet is at the rooftop, and there you are.

Your back is facing him with your feet dangling off the edge, you seem to be in your own world judging by the loud music he’s hearing. There are two packs of cigarettes by your side and a can of your favorite coffee. The sun is almost setting again and you’re just staring ahead while you hum along to the song you're listening to. The view seems so… sad. He felt something tug at his heart strings. 

“You know you should quit smoking. if you keep it, you’ll never see me old handsome.”  He tried to joke off before climbing the edge to sit next to you. He took off his glasses before wincing at the view, it was too bright so he decided to put it on again. 

You giggled in response,  he can tell that you saw right through him when you had a soft look in your face.  The both of you hadn’t quite reached the stage where you’re entirely comfortable with opening up to one another.

So he tried to lighten up the mood once more, “It actually diminishes your ability as a sorcerer.” 

“Says who?” 

“Says yoda” He responded rhetorically before giving you a lopsided grin.  

You nodded before taking out your lighter to light up your cigarette.   “I only smoke when I’m stressed.” You confessed.

“Oh?” Satoru asks 

“Yeah” You smiled at him, taking a drag from your cigarette, sighing when the nicotine hit your system. 

“Then we’ll do something else, yeah?” He grinned at you mischievously before pointing his index. “Wait.” 

With a quick rummage through his pockets, he brought out a handful of brightly colored lollipops, their wrappers crinkling softly in his hand. 

“What do you have in mind?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. 

Satoru extended his hand, offering you a lollipop with a playful wink. “Something sweeter?” 

He gives you a toothy grin—his eyes sparkling when you take it, shaking your head at his enthusiasm.

“This is ridiculous,” You laughed, amused by his antics as you unwrapped the sweet treat and popped it into your mouth. 

“It works, right?” Satoru asked eagerly. 

He’s been searching for alternative ways for nicotine but he couldn’t find any gum in the 7/11 store. Lollipops are his last choice. 

“I don’t know. Isn’t it gum that lessens the nic addiction?”  You countered, bumping your shoulder against his. 

“Lollipops are an alternative,” He says defensively, though a hint of concern crept up to his face.  “Are you okay?”  

“Yeah, uhm. It just gets tiring sometimes, you know?” You responded, bitterness lacing your voice. “ All the pressure. Sometimes I feel like I’m not treated humanely at one point.” 

“Hey. I’ll help you okay?” He placed a hand on your shoulder before offering you a soft smile. “When you’re with me, you don’t have to please those old geezers.” 

“I appreciate it, Satoru.” You smiled back at him and he found himself melting in your gaze. The sun be damned, he could live alone in your presence.

You decided to leave when it’s already half past eight. Once he helped you to his feet you looked at him shyly, and if it’s a bit lighter out he would see a blush creeping up to your face. The walk back to your dorm is silent again, your hands just occasionally brush and Satoru wondered if you think about holding his hand too. 

So when you let him in your dorm like you usually do. Satoru hesitated for a moment before he mustered up the courage and asked, “Is it okay if I hug you?” 

He noticed you freeze and he feared that he might have overstepped, but before he could retract his words, you’re already nodding and he instinctively wrapped his arms around you. Satoru hears you sigh in the hug and he feels like he’s floating when you tug him closer.

Satoru prayed silently that you couldn’t hear the loud thumping of his heart because he finally has you in his arms and this is all he wanted. The warmth of your body against his, the way you leaned into his touch, it all felt surreal to him. 

You’ve finally let your guard down around him and he noticed you gradually open up to him when you’re feeling sad or disappointed with something. Somehow he can’t bring himself to be like that to you yet, Satoru has this underlying feeling that you’d like him less if he starts showing vulnerability. 

But to his surprise, he feels like you like him more because of that. There was this instance where he’s so overstimulated after a mission because he had to take off his glasses to work on his six eyes. He started to become dizzy and everything around him was a blur.

As he sat on the couch, feeling utterly overwhelmed and disoriented after the mission. Despite his attempts to mask his discomfort with a feeble smile, you saw right through him, as you always seemed to do.

“Satoru, are you okay?” Your voice cut through the haze of his senses, casting him a worried glance.

He managed a strained smile before the brightness around him intensified, sending a sharp pang through his temples. "I'm...I'm fine," he mumbled.

“Satoru, you’re not a good liar.” You stood up to turn off the lights, only leaving the night lamp on, a soft glow illuminating the entire room, making it bearable for Satoru. He’s rubbing his temples, trying to ease the pain. 

He feels a weight dip in the couch, you gently remove his glasses and place them on the nearby table. Then, without warning, your arms enveloped him in a warm embrace, guiding his head to rest against the crook of your neck, fully covering his eyes.

Now that he’s calmed down, Satoru became acutely aware of the closeness between you. He’s lucky that you can’t see how his eyes widened at your action and how flushed he probably looks right now. Well, not that he can see anything right now. 

But he chooses to ignore the loud beating of his heart again, passing it off as adrenaline rush from the mission. He allows himself to relax in your hold, with your fingers threading softly through his hair, all his worries and fatigue melted away. 

Gojo Satoru had never known romantic love, let alone had a crush on anyone. So maybe it was just normal for friends to hold each other when one is tired or in need of comfort.

He loves to play with your hand when both of you are alone, while he babbles about something random and outright weird just so he could ignore how you make him feel. He tries to ignore the blush creeping up on his face when you listen to him intently, like every word that he utters matters, no matter how ridiculous it was. His feet always drag him to you because after a long day, all he needs is cuddles from you— oh, and your soothing voice too.  

So really, what is this weight on his chest when Shoko announced that you’re going on a date? 

Why is he pouting suddenly, assaulting his food as he stabs it continuously while you are gushing about what to wear or what to say when he knows you just look so beautiful even without trying?

Isn’t he enough?

Satoru buys you stuff, he takes care of you, he knows everything about you. He’s always hanging at your dorm after school, you’re practically like a couple at this poi–

Shit. 

Maybe he does have a crush on you. 

“I don’t know why you’d bother going on a date, Y/N. Guys are basically disgusting.” 

“Says a guy.” You rolled your eyes playfully while going through your closet. 

Satoru’s getting desperate now, why are you so adamant to get on that date? 

Satoru felt a knot of desperation tightening in his chest as he watched you model your top three dresses.  The first dress, adorned with vibrant florals, seemed to scream "first date" with its playful charm. However, you quickly dismissed it as unsuitable for the dinner date you had planned. Next, you slipped into a simple yet elegant black bodycon dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. It was hard to ignore the bitterness he’s feeling— you getting dolled up for a random guy. 

But it was the final dress that truly captured his heart. As you twirled around to show him, the white silk fabric cascading gracefully around you, Satoru found himself momentarily breathless at the sight. Your awkward smile only added to the enchantment of the moment. You look so ethereal. 

"What do you think?" you asked, swaying gently as you admired yourself in the mirror.

"I—" Satoru cleared his throat, his voice suddenly dry as he struggled to find the right words. "I think I like the other one better, the black one," he managed to say, though his heart whispered otherwise.

You somehow listened to his advice and wore the black bodycon dress that he suggested.

You looked nothing short of breathtaking, a literal goddess. 

It was the longest 3 hours of his life, each passing minute feeling like an eternity as he anxiously wait for your return. Despite his best effort to distract himself by distracting Suguru, his thoughts kept returninhg to you— wondering if you’re having the time of your life with your date. 

A small part of him wishes that the date didn’t go well and you’ll just spent the rest of the evening eating sweets with him all the while casting funny remarks on your date but he wasn’t prepared when you came home with mascara running down your face, your lips curved into a pout, and your eyes puffy and red from crying. 

Without a word, Satoru stood up to engulf you in his arms, furrowing his eyebrows as you collapsed into him.  “What happened, Y/N?” 

He held you close, a surge of protectiveness flooding his senses as if an attempt to shield you from the world.

“He’s a misogynist, Satoru!” You cried, your voice cracking. “So full of himself! I thought he was kind and sweet but then he just started babbling about his clan and how good of a potential husband he is. As if I want to marry him!” 

“Who was he anyway?”  He gently wiped away your tears. 

“Naoya Zenin” You sniffled, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I’m sorry I’m staining your shirt.” 

“No, no.” He whispered, brushing away the strands of your hair on your face. 

He took a mental note to research on the guy that made you cry later on. He realizes that the sight that he despises the most is the sight of you crying. He never wants to see you like this, ever. 

“You said you like the beach right?” Satoru spoke out of the blue, his hand tracing circles on your arm. “Why don’t we go to one?” 

-.-

And that’s how Satoru managed to spend all of his monthly allowance in a week. He booked a flight for the 6 of you (of course he wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea, he insisted it’s a vacation for the six of you— him, you, Suguru, Shoko, and even Utahime and Mei Mei because apparently you’re good friends with them too) 

So now here he is, about 200, 000 yen poorer. (help i don’t know if this is accurate) He wanted what’s best for you, so of course he’d spend a lot for you.  It was all worth it though, when he sees you in a baby blue bathing suit that he helped you pick out. No it was definitely not because it’s similar to the color of his eyes. Blue just suits you well. (Hence, he’s also suitable for you) 

“Satoru, you're going to catch flies if your mouth keeps hanging like that. Hey, are you also drooling?” Suguru pokes Satoru, who quickly straightens up when you look his way.

You gave him a sheepish smile, and he didn’t know what the fuck you’re doing to him because he feels a hard on coming his way.  Shoko notices Satoru’s flushed expression but she just continues to smoke, clearly enjoying the show. 

Eventually, everyone agrees to swim in the beach and try on the jet skis that Satoru had rented. What he didn’t know though, was the fact that you’re afraid of the ocean.

You were just hugging yourself while the waves crashed against your feet. The sight looks so cute but he wants you to enjoy it, so he uses his tactics to get you to join the group.

Unfortunately for him, you’re so stubborn to stay on the shore. 

“I don’t want to go, Satoru! It’s not funny! I might get eaten alive by megalodon sharks or something.” 

“C’mon! I’m really tall, I can protect you! Jesus, here—”  His hand intertwined with yours, causing you to blush profusely. “Just hold my hand, okay?  Hell, hold onto me if you like. I can carry you!”

“Your hands are uhm, really warm.” You commented, your voice tinged with embrassment. 

“Oh yeah?” He smirks at you, his gaze locking with yours. “You want me to warm you up?” 

“I’m gonna kill you.”  You deadpanned. 

Despite your protests, you ended up trusting him to pull you in the deeper part of the ocean. He even managed to get you to ride the jetski with him, the grip you had on his waist nearly suffocating him.

Satoru didn’t want to focus on the closeness between you two— your body pressed up against his back. If he does, he might lose control and drop the both of you into the ocean. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the group is observing the two of you while sipping on their Margaritas.

“God, these two.” Mei Mei muttered as she rolls her eyes. “Best slow burn romance I’ve ever seen for free.”

If anyone would glance at you and Satoru, they would immediately think you’re dating, but you’re not and it’s frustrating to anyone within your radius. 

Besides her, Shoko chimed in, her voice laced with amusement.   “It’s so painfully obvious that they like each other. They were comparing hand sizes earlier for god’s sake.” 

“Yeah, they should just fuck already.” 

-.-

“Okay, so you kiss the person the bottle’s pointing at.” Utahime explained excitedly, albeit a bit drunk.

Everyone’s gathering around the crackling bonfire bonfire, the warm glow casting dancing shadows across the sand.  It was now nearing midnight and you decided to play a game to end the night, which is spin the bottle. You spent all afternoon swimming and riding the jet skis Satoru rented. 

Satoru felt a bead of sweat form on his brow as the bottle nearly lands you and Suguru.

He wanted your first kiss to be with him, as selfish as that sounds. He internally cursed Shoko for suggesting this game. 

It landed on Shoko and Utahime, then Shoko and Suguru, then Mei Mei and Utahime. 

His nervousness escalated as the game continues. Satoru was busy praying that the bottle wouldn’t land on you and anyone that he failed to notice when the bottle finally came to a stop, pointing directly at you and him. 

“Ooooh” Utahime teased you, playfully poking your arm. “It’s you and Gojo!” 

You laughed nervously, shooting a helpless glance in Satoru’s direction. He wanted to protest but his curiosity outweighed his embarrassment. 

He wanted to know how it feels like to kiss you. 

Besides, it’s just a kiss, right? 

Satoru was stunned when you hurriedly pecked him on the lips before you retreated back to your seat. His mind raced as he tries to process the fleeting touch.

He just kissed you. 

He couldn’t believe it when you looked back at him with a subtle smile playing in your lips.  

The rest of the night was a blur for him, not because he was drunk. Satoru’s a lightweight and you know that fact, that’s why you were drinking for him.

While everyone else is playing games and talking about anything, his mind is still stuck on the fact that you kissed him

You’re his first kiss.

And he's yours too,

The gods had answered his prayers.  But that was barely a kiss in the first place, do you even want it or were you just pressured to do it?

The thought stings. So he took a couple of sips from Suguru’s beer bottle until he was tipsy enough to not think about your lips on his. Yet, with each glance in your direction, the memory of your lips on his persisted. 

-.- 

Satoru helped you go to your room, even if he’s a bit drunk himself.  Both of you were stumbling on the way to your room, but he thankfully he managed to settle you down on the bed as gently as he could. His attempt to withdraw was no use as you pulled him down with you, your grip firm yet gentle as you clutched his hand in your sleep. 

Satoru admired your sleeping state, your hair sprawled out messily on the bed and you’re gripping his hand.

Your mouth slightly open as you slept, emitting soft rhythmic breaths but then you started mumbling something—it first it was incoherent until you mumbled in a slur,  “I think you’re cute.” 

“Huh?” Satoru questioned, even though he heard you clearly. He just want to hear it again from you. 

“I said I think you look like a sack of shit. Fuck you.”  You clarified, your words still slightly intelligible and laced with frustration and humor. 

“Uh-huh.” He replied, feigning ignorance, his heart fluttering at your words. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Satoru brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering momentarily against your skin. 

“You know,” You started, your words slurring as you looked at him with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my first kiss. It was really good even if it just lasted a second. Thank you for today, toru.” 

He laughed at your intoxicated state. You just look so adorable when you’re relaxed like this, the way your features softened and your laughter bubble up freely without a care in the world.

His gaze drifted to your lips, they seemed to beckon him to give in.  He definitely wants to kiss you now. 

Satoru’s heart raced as he struggled to fight the urge to lean in, knowing that it was a dangerous game to play. You decided to take matters in your own hands, shifting closer to him, your face close enough that he could feel you breathe against him. 

“Please, ‘Toru.” You whispered, your lips barely touching. “Please kiss me again.” 

Who was he to deny you that? To deny you? 

When Satoru kissed you for the second time, he took his time to savor it. His hand reaches out to cup your cheek and brushes his lips against yours. 

Your lips are warm and soft, he wanted to kiss it for eternity. Literally. He feels like in cloud nine as he kisses you deeper, slipping his tongue inside as you parted your lips, earning a soft moan from you.

Satoru weight settled against you, your bodies pressed together, breathing heavily as he connected his lips against yours once more. 

You taste better than any candy he has ever tasted. He might just get addicted, drunk even. 

“We shouldn’t—” He sighs into your mouth. You whimpered when he pulled away, your sweet voice going straight through his dick. “I don’t want to do this like this.” 

“What” a kiss. “Do” followed by another, “You,” then another “Mean?” then another.

You were peppering kisses all over his face all the while carding your hand through his hair, tugging it a bit to earn a reaction from him. He almost lost it when you squeezed him through his boxers. 

Satoru managed to pull away which he clearly struggled on doing when you pout at him, lips swollen and covered with saliva and you’re looking at him with those damned doe eyes. 

He pecks your lips, both of your cheeks, and he places a final kiss on your forehead, afraid that if he does more, he won’t be able to contain himself.

Satoru wants his first time with you to be special, one that’s not hazy and easy to forget. He doesn’t want it to be a mistake, like what he knows the both of you would agree upon if you talked about it in the morning.

He wanted you to remember, have it engraved in your mind and body for weeks. Satoru wants you to want him as much as he wants you, and he can’t have that in a drunken mistake. 

As you both drifted together in your sleep, he held you close, his arms wrapping snugly around your waist. It was the best sleep he had in ages. 

-.-

Satoru’s fear came true when you pretended like nothing happened the next morning. When he awoke, it feels like last night never happened. Your side of the bed is fixed and the only proof that you were ver there was the ache he felt on his arm, where you were laying.  Sure, he was disappointed but he’s contented with anything you give him. As long as he has you by his side. 

The kiss never left his mind, though.

Not even when you reached third year and you drifted apart from him little by little. His feelings for you remains the same. 

When Satoru is paired up again with you for a mission in the second half of your third year, you seem different from the Y/N he remembers. Particularly because you act like the exact person that he met in your first year.

Only, you look dull.

There are heavy circles under your eyes, your lips are chapped, and you look like you’re barely holding it together. Not to mention the only words that you utter to him are only about the mission. 

He got too busy honing his skills with Suguru, but he would make time for you if only you asked. But it’s like you were gone, everytime he tried to look for you, you were nowhere to be found. It’s like he barely knows you anymore.

You started to ignore him at the beginning of the school year. He noticed that you dyed your hair back to its natural color and whenever he goes.

You became a ghost in a way, and he’s left with the pieces of you that you once had shared with him. Satoru desperately wants to reach you but how can he when you’re always away? He doesn’t see you in your meeting spot anymore, you’re not in your dorm, no one gets close to you. The only time he sees you is during meetings with the higher ups and your clan. 

There’s an ache in his heart that only you can heal. 

So before you can run away from him again, he followed your footsteps until you reached the 7/11 store across the street. So here you are scanning along the shelves of the store, even though he knows you already know what you’re going to buy.  You still haven’t noticed him, which is confusing on his part. You must’ve been so tired. 

Ah, an energy drink and a box of cigarettes. 

Well, maybe you’ve started avoiding him too because of that. You know he’s going to get worried. 

Satoru taps your shoulder, making you yelp. You were about to shout at him but your expression softened when you saw him. “Oh, it’s just you.” 

It’s the first time in months where he actually saw you up close. He misses you so much it actually makes him dizzy.  Satoru stares at you for a few minutes before you poked him. 

“Hello? Earth to Satoru?”

He hasn’t heard you say his name too in a while. It felt like a breath of fresh air 

“You dyed your hair back to its natural color.” He pointed out. 

You hummed in response before going to the drink section once more. He observes you skimming the shelves even though he knows what you’re going to buy.

You’re just passing the time because you’re too anxious to talk to him but you aren’t really good at small talks.   

So he does that for you.

As you mechanically scanned the shelves, your eyes not really registering the array of products before you, Satoru noticed the evident anxiety in your every move. Wanting to bridge the gap between you two, he seized the opportunity to make you smile. 

“ah yes, there’s some items on sale here.” He declared, rubbing his chin with his pointer and thumb comically. 

Your quizzical expression met his as you questioned, “I don’t see any.” 

Undeterred, Satoru held up a familiar item – your favorite coffee – and flashed a grin "Here," he insisted, pointing at the non-existent 'sale' label.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "It's on sale. Look. It says, 'buy one take me.'" He gestured to the imaginary tag with a theatrical flair, his infectious grin inviting you to roll your eyes at him. 

Finally, you gave him a smile and you threw your head back because you’re laughing so hard. “You’re ridiculous, Gojo Satoru.” 

Satoru's heart skipped a beat at the sight of your smile, a warmth spreading through him at the sight of your genuine laughter. He likes seeing you smile. He’d do anything to see you smile. Even if it’s making a fool out of himself.

You grabbed his favorite drink and 2 onigiris then you dropped your energy drink. You walked towards the counter with him following closely behind.

After you’ve paid for the food, you led him wordlessly to the back of the convenience store towards the small parking lot and you sat on the ground. 

“Besides, I can’t take you.”  You broke the silence, handing him his coca-cola with a tremulous smile. 

“What do you mean? You’ve already taken me for granted.”  Satoru attempts to joke, but his playful expression dropped when you gave him a sad smile. 

“I’m getting married next year after graduation.” 

Satoru suddenly felt as if the ground had dropped from beneath him. The news struck him like a blow to the chest, leaving him breathless. He chewed on his lip as he took in your confession.

So that’s why you’ve been busy.

That’s why the higher ups paid no mind to all of his minor mishaps. His heart and mind raced, why so soon? Are you really going to let them take away your right to decide who you’ll marry? 

“To who?”  He said quietly, fidgeting with the lid of his soda. 

“Naoya Zenin.” 

A wave of disbelief washed over Satoru’s face. He had only met the guy once but he knows that Zenin is an absolute prick, not to mention a misogynist and a weakling. He even made you cry on a date. But he tried to relax his jaw and stay composed for you. “Do you want to marry him?”

“No.” Your answer was swift, the word laden with a weight he could feel in his bones. 

“Then don’t.” Satoru says firmly. Both of you fell silent for a while, you being defeated with the destiny your clan have paved for you.  

Could he really let you go just like that? To a Zenin asshat nonetheless?

He had always imagined that the two of you would eventually end up together, you have all the time in the world after all. So why does it feel like you’re already slipping out of his arms?  He’s not even sure if you like him, despite what Suguru and Ieri keep telling him. 

His train of thoughts were interrupted when you leaned your head on his shoulder. His arm instinctively finds its way around you, as if shielding you from your clan, from the world.  “I wish it were that simple. Nearly everything I do for my family is never what I want. I simply can’t not do it, Satoru. I need it to keep my clan powerful and relevant. I’m the only daughter of my parents. I have to do my best to make them proud.” 

“Well…” He stammers a little bit when your hand finds a way to play with his hair.  “what about what you want?” 

“Satoru, you know my freedom is limited." You laughed bitterly. “I’m still Y/L/N’s golden child and my clan’s on the brink of exclusion at this point. We’re irrelevant now and I’m not getting any stronger or richer. My family wants to take their place in the Jujutsu World. This is something I can’t escape from anymore even if I’d rather die than to be married to someone like him.” 

“Why Naoya Zenin though?” He’s getting frustrated at this point. Why were you not fighting back? Satoru couldn’t accept that, you relinquishing your freedom for the sake of others. You have already done so much. 

“He’s from a well-off clan and he’s strong.” you replied, a note of bitterness tainting your words. “My dad’s also biased with the Zenin clan so… I’m all set.” 

Well, he’s a Gojo and he is the strongest.  He is the inheritor of the six eyes anyway. Who is Naoya Zenin compared to him?  

“Well then, can you marry someone else that’s also strong?”

You scoffed, your hand leaving his hair before you prompt to fully lean your entire weight on Satoru’s side. “Yeah, but I don’t have much of a choice in the matter. Who else would I mar-” 

It’s now or never. 

“Me.”  Satoru blurted out. 

“What?” 

“Me. you should just marry me instead.” 

Wanna read more?

[aniqua]

saudade | qimir x reader

✧ excerpt: you enjoyed the intimacy up until it stopped and you harshly grabbed the wrist of the same hand that once planted a spark in your mouth. You could only feel the tip of a cold blade when you swallowed.

✧ content warning: 18+ mdni, f!reader, sith behavior, nonsexual nudity, violence, mentions of blood, traitors

✧ note: it's been a year. hi.

✧ word count: 5.4K

“We know you supplied Mae with the poison that killed Master Torbin.” Master Sol informed. 

Yord watched as the mystery man's eyes widened with a sincerity that was so brutally palpable that it had Yord second-guess their strategy. Yet, he still wasn’t entirely convinced. Something in the air wasn’t right and he wasn’t going to wait until there was more blood in the water to go hunting.

The investigation of another Jedi's death was your invitation to your first mission on the ground. The first investigation where you wouldn’t be sidelined by the paperwork that came after. The council was applying immense pressure to eradicate the red string of suspicious deaths before things escalated. That’s where your skills with your lightsaber put you among the few who were in talks to walk into the mouth of an unknown beast. Still, it took days of constant pestering to convince Master Sol not to take your name off of the list and a few words from Yord himself had you watching an interrogation just as the evening’s colors were spreading across the sky.

“If you cooperate, we will consider letting you go with a warning,” Sol said.

Your shift began just in time for the start of questioning. The fabric of your robe flew high as you briskly ventured through the winding halls until you made it to the interrogation room. You looked at the door as you held onto a file in your chest. Perhaps it was realization finally catching up to your fast pace or maybe last-minute nervousness but there was a shift in the atmosphere as you approached the door that led to where the suspect was being held. However, you took a breath and went underwater where you were ushered into a space where the only division between two Jedi and a Sith was thick one-way glass. 

Yord had beaten you to the interrogation so as you cut through the thick air, you saw him standing across the glass. His hands were crossed behind his back as he observed with a focused demeanor. The Jedi’s figure only grew greater the closer you got but so did the energy that emitted from the other room on the other side of the glass. Yord’s figure obscured the suspect as you approached until he stepped back to greet you.

That’s when you saw the man. He came out like the sun in an eclipse.

It was a cursed serendipity that had you feeling like you walked right into a wall. That colliding sensation you experienced when you saw his eyes only worsened. The one-way glass didn’t keep his storming brown eyes from meeting yours. It was only for a second but in that time he had been able to pull your own voice from you dead in your tracks. The look between the both of you was so brutal that he watched the ripples pass through him. The only indication that he had been affected was clear in the subtle way the perpetual crease of his brows smoothened and constantly stiff shoulders finally got to relax after three years. 

With one look from him, the wall you had slammed into pushed right into your ribcage and landed a blow to your heart making it run like a rushing waterfall. Constantly crashing at the end before it starts all over. Just as quickly as you locked eyes, it was over. 

The sudden attack had you gripping your chest as you tried to catch up to the ground that was running from you. Yet, Qimir went back to talking to who was in front of him like the soul in his eyes didn’t bite you back harder. He so carelessly left you there to only fist the fabric of your robe that covered your heart. 

Someone called your name a few times.

To you, it didn’t matter who said it because everything–from the way the air was moving to the way that the ground was vibrating–was all noise now. 

“Yes?” you pitifully pushed passed your teeth as your hand landed on a nearby table to steady yourself. Even when you managed to open your eyes, you saw how the room didn’t mind swaying back and forth at the edge of your vision. 

“What’s wrong?” Yord asked.

A light but nervous laugh came from you as you tried to perform nonchalance. Your only solution was to console yourself with your only known ritual. You spun the ring on your finger to ignore the growing tension in your temple. 

“Nothing,” you shook your head as you looked up and let go of clutching the edge of the table.

Yord was looking at you completely unconvinced and if you didn’t come up with something soon, he’d likely have Master Sol pull you out to recover from whatever you were experiencing.

“The juice you brought me is just being difficult about going down,” you cleared your throat and fought hard to straighten your posture and hide your discomfort. Yord didn’t miss the way your teeth were clenched.

“Are you saying I have poor taste?”

“Uh, kind of.” you caught your breath quickly but quietly. “If this is your effort to get rid of me, you won't,” you teased.

You walked off the last hit of the wave even though the storm in your chest was still present. By the interrogation's near conclusion, you were straight-spined and catching up to every word that was being transcribed. Master Sol wouldn’t have guessed anything had happened by the time he was done and came to the other side.

“I don’t know why you chose to bring him in?” he said to Yord.

“Master Sol,” Yord bowed, “protocol above all else.” You followed along with his greeting.

“We’ll release him,” you heard said but didn’t catch the rest.

You should have been paying attention as Master Sol illustrated a plan for the next few hours but how could you? The stranger was looking at you once more. You could feel it even as you pretended to listen to Master Sol. His eyes were casting nets to grab your attention. When you would give yourself a split second to look behind Yord and Sol you witnessed the way his face was morphing into an expression that was hard to pinpoint if it wasn’t all over the wrinkles in his frown. He eventually went back to having something else in the room entertain his attention and you tricked yourself into thinking that he couldn’t see you through the looking glass.

However, the thumping of your heart trying to explode all over your lungs and the look he gave you was all you would remember until you were dismissed. Your grit was the only thing that got you through once things were wrapping up. It was a wonder that you didn’t pass out until you returned to your bed. 

Even with your eyes closed, you can sense the rushing water. The way it smelled healed your lungs and the way it sounded rested your soul. The ocean lapped the shore of the water with kisses as it carried rocks to better places. The same rocks that you can feel under you as you sat meditating. There was no need to open your eyes as you let the rushing wind wrap itself around you. 

You were entirely still as you concentrated on energy that you could feel coming to and for through you. All remained the same until you felt warm calloused hands travel across your jaw to hold your face. While one hand cradled and contrasted with the softness of your skin, the other busied itself by passing its thumb back and forth against the supple skin of your neck. It eventually travels up your neck and past your jaw setting off fires in its wake. The heat ended when a thumb brushed your bottom lip like the lick of a blue flame.

You enjoyed the intimacy up until it stopped and you harshly grabbed the wrist of the same hand that once planted a spark on your mouth. You could only feel the tip of a cold blade when you swallowed. Your victory was short-lived when you blocked another similar oncoming attack. Caged like a bird, you planned to escape like you were taught. You maneuvered with a spin but ultimately failed when you ended up with your back against the chest of the same person you were fighting against. He had a dagger against your throat as his other bicep was locked around your waist.

“I know I taught you better,” a voice spoke into your ear as the pressure around your waist was mounting. He gave you a warm kiss on your cheek and that was the moment you elbowed his chest, stole the dagger, and pointed it right at his chest. You had caught him with your arms around his waist.

“A bit sloppy but an improvement,” he nodded.

Your eyes carefully opened and by then he was no longer in your hold. He had disappeared like foam and the only thing you could see was running waves and rocks suspended in the air like they were underwater. So you turned to find that feeling of warmth on the cold beach and found a man meandering along the shoreline.

You called his name but couldn’t even remember what it sounded like even when you woke up.

Even when it came out of your mouth. 

That’s what you thought about when you looked out into space glazed in sweat from the dream. 

Your eyes reflected the galaxies the ship swam through at a godly speed as it made its way to Kashyyyk. You were still fiddling with the ring on your finger as you held your blanket against your body. There was still no explanation for what you felt that day and you feared that you didn’t want to know. Yet, your mind wandered to the suspect as you shamefully fought the urges you felt as you reminisced about him. It was unclear how long you watched the ship swim throughout the galaxy. But you did it until you grew tired of the sight and went back to sleep to fight the sea monsters under your bed.

By the time you were much closer to Kashyyk, you were out of bed before anyone else, but never before Master Sol.

“You seem to be worried about something,” Master Sol stood beside you as he looked out of the window just as you did.

“I’m not having doubts about being here,” you reassured. He didn’t say anything after which meant that he was waiting for you to elaborate. “It’ll be three years today and I’m just thinking about the progress I’ve made,” you said with some disappointment in your cadence.

“Your connection with the force will only strengthen with practice,” Sol reassured you with the same advice. It didn’t give you any security but your master had never given you a reason not to trust him so you hung onto his confidence.

Years ago, Master Sol was the first person you saw when it felt like you first came into the world. How lucky you were to be taken in and how fortunate it was that you had given you every reason to trust him even when you couldn’t remember anything but the name written on the back of the ring on your finger. Sol felt a sense of deja vu.

“What is that?” Jecki said.

The forest was dense enough to easily drown in. However, it seemed to be no problem for the man who went cutting through the trees. You noticed him first but it was Jecki who spoke up. His helmet looked like the head of a smiling snake while black pooled over him to make him resemble a ghost. The way he approached was careful.

“Identify yourself!”

The same feeling from the day of the interrogation had returned. Your heart rate was at a pace that one would have if you were already running. Your vision even tunneled as you watched the way the masked man loomed over Osha. For a brief moment, all you could hear was the animals of the forest until you watched the helmet slowly pivot from facing Osha to pointing over her and facing you. How naive all were to not notice how recklessly a shark was going to fight for what was theirs. While some began to step back in anticipation, you unintentionally stepped forward.

It was unclear why at the time but without you being prepared and with a single pass of his hand you were set flying. This was seconds before he knocked every Jedi from the ground to fly with the dust around them like there was an explosion.

The sound of the hum of lightsabers broke you out of your blackout. Your first instinct was to get up and to run but your body ached and cried for you to let yourself stay down as you groaned. Another thing that was able to make it to your ears was Master Sol’s call for Osha to head to the ship. He was far but you still could hear the panic shake in his call. You could only stomach your pain like dry sand as you started for your master. With no lightsaber, you were practically useless but the thought of returning home truly alone scared you more than even the certainty of death. Dancing lights of blue and red were the beacon that led you to the remaining fight.

It wasn’t right that the first thing you saw when you burst through the trees was Yord against a tree as he held onto a wound. Even in all his agony he still held up his hand as he shook his head. He was begging for you to retreat while paled-faced. 

“Get to the ship,” he said as you stood over him in horror. 

Without any thought, you fiercely tore at the fabric of your robe and wrapped it around his wound tight enough for his skin to swell up. Your hands were diligent even as you heard the clashing of lightsabers further off. Yord’s face was contorted as he held everything in.

“I’ll come back for you,” you said as you squeezed his hands hoping that the next time they wouldn’t be as cold.

You made your way through more vegetation even when it felt like every branch was trying to grab you to pull back into the depths of the ocean. The clashing of lightsabers was growing in volume as you ran further and further until you broke into the battle. 

You watched as Master Sol and the stranger were fighting like two families. Your heart never stopped hammering into your ears like it was trying to escape out of your own mouth. Even with the feeling that something was pulling at the fraying fabrics of your instincts, you attacked without question. Wielding your weapon you experienced the first impact when the Sith predicted your hit. 

Two lightsabers struck one another with a cross like it hadn’t already occurred. However, this time there was true animosity no matter how one-sided. You held for as long, anchoring your feet into the forest’s ground to plant roots. But slowly as the stranger pushed further, you watched the light of the heated weapon pass him and illuminate his features. 

He could even see it in your eyes, the way you looked at him like you were staring directly into the sun. You just couldn’t understand why he looked like a horrifying dream. 

“Qimir!” Sol called to you but two heads turned.

The stranger’s advantage was his focus he was faster to return than you were. He threw his robe over Sol and had your back against his chest and your lightsaber grounded by a calculated kick.

Perhaps it was your imagination, but even with a lightsaber pointed to your temple, you didn’t miss the way he and you were breathing in sync. His arm was locked around your neck as you held against it trying to fight back with little success. You screamed as you tried to find an out from his hold. Warm breaths were hitting the back of your neck as they traveled down your spine. It weakened your knees and scrambled your thoughts.

“Stay,” he said to you under his breath.

When Sol wrestled with the fabric off, he saw a sight that took him much too long to realize. 

A blue blast from within the trees flew like an arrow and landed close enough to the Sith that he sent hurling through the force with such ease. You shooting at such a dangerous speed but only someone with such an understanding of the landscape could have the skill to send you flying without hitting the trunk of a single tree. It was your overwhelming anxiety and the infection of your senses that was the cause of your mistake. What should have been a tactic you could have landed and brushed off, resulted in you losing your spatial awareness and colliding with the jacked edges of a rock.

You were sure you heard something snap and most certainly, something was leaking as you bounced and rolled onto the ground until you were still. Your once fresh skin was infected with bruises and maimed by branches at its best spots. And You never got to see the regret on Master Sol’s face or the way Osha tried to best the Sith only to have her plan backfire on herself. All you heard was the screams of Sol and Osha as they had to fight off their new problem, the bugs of the jungle.

You don’t know how long you layed there holding on to your wound as your consciousness came and went. You held onto torn skin that kept separating like red water while the forest ground was leaning to the right.

The occasional choir of the indifferent animals of the forest made you feel closer to death even when your main diagnosis was exhaustion. So by the time silent footsteps approached you carefully, you were delirious. Qimir crouched down with a scowl and inspected your breathing.

“What did you do?” he murmured to himself but you heard it and you weren’t asleep.

As he began reaching to pick you up, your eyes snapped open. The universe was demanding one last fight from you. You instantly tried blocking his hands as you wrestled him. It was easy to consider screaming for help but who would answer that call?

With your back against the filthy ground, and haunting brown eyes launching ships, you fought with the little strength you had but you looked like a petulant child as Qimir knelt above your aggressive attacks from the ground. 

“Stop,” he said with clear frustration as he countered all your attacks with such grace. You landed a push to his chest with your hands right above his heart. This last-minute scrambling delivered the hardest blow that you didn’t know was possible from your own hands. Qimir flew right into a tree with a groan. The tree vibrated like it was laughing.

You scrambled to get up and run but he was hot on your tail in mere moments.

“He–!” you wailed but your mouth was covered and your words were pushed right back in for you to digest.

The pitiful screams that bubbled out of you didn’t even make it past your teeth but you still could cry which hurt the most. Your heart wouldn’t stop rapping at your ribcage.

“I know, I know it hurts,” he reassures as he pulls you into his chest. Carefully, even amidst your thrashing, he managed to snake his hand into the chest of your robe and right about your heart. “Relax,” he instructed into your collar as he cradled you.

That’s all he needed to say for you to finally break out of the water and breathe for the first time. Your aching heart suddenly rested. You dropped instantly. Qimir caught you so you wouldn’t hit the ground like a dead.

The the forest’s rare instance of silence, he spent his time waving his hands over your wounds and holding back years of every stage of grief. He thought he could keep moving with his plan but he stayed worshipping your presence for a while. Three years of mourning spilled over the arms he had wrapped around you. With his hands around your waist for good measure, he rocked slightly as he held you and buried his nose in your hair once again. The tears came last as they ran from his eyes like sirens. He wished to wail as he silently wept and held onto your unconscious body.

You sat in a bath as you looked forward. Hot kisses were being planted on the wet skin of the bath as you dangled against the rim of porcelain. It started at the back of your neck and with each kiss, it traveled further down until there was nowhere else to go.

“Don’t go tomorrow,” you said. 

“It won’t take long,” he reassured.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s a bad idea,”

“I’ll be fine,” he said.

Your frustration made an audible sigh as you marched out of the bath bare. You comforted yourself with a towel and sat on the edge of the bed facing away in protest.

He called your name once.

“If you go, I’ll follow,” you threaten harshly as you pick at the skin near your nails.

“No–” You could tell he was following right behind from the moment you left the water.

“And why can’t I,” you challenged as you stood up to eye him. You were face-to-face

“Because I said ‘no,’” he pressured as he stepped closer. 

“How do expect just your worlds to stop me?” You matched his stubbornness as you stepped forward. Wet and chest to chest you both were burning with ambition.

He said your name a second time. 

“If you leave… you won’t find me when you come back,” you dropped the words like a last-minute anchor. To you, it was an empty threat but he didn’t know that.

You saw the way he locked up when he heard the words. He wasn’t as quick to quell your doubts as you’d hope with such a threat. You knew if he went off to kill a Jedi, you’d follow to protect him even in secret, but even then you weren’t sure if he’d make it out alive with your help. Your love for each other made you both reckless.

And that would never change even if you forgot.

When you woke up, the first thing you heard was the sound of the sea. You thought perhaps you had stepped into another facet of your dream but that idea was dead when you saw the bandages wrapped around you with a few healed wounds. A dream wouldn’t be this cruel but there was still a chance it was a nightmare.

You rose from the resting spot you were lying in and looked into the space you were in. It looked lived-in and cozy, the last place you would have expected to end up. The main source of light was the exit that led to the outside world and it illuminated the surroundings. It was eerily quiet and that did little to alleviate your worries. You were frantic to find something to protect yourself and came up lucky when you stopped a lightsaber only a short distance from where you rested. You looked around to be sure of any surprises then practically lept to grab the weapon.

There were only two options. You could either choose to stay inside and wait for the man who took you to come back in or beat him to it. It was clear he wasn’t inside. It was easier to take the latter to avoid feeling like you were just patiently waiting for your end. You held the lightsaber tightly as you slowly left the home into broad daylight. 

You traveled carefully with occasional frantic looks. Your posture was that was a caged animal stepping out for the first time as it met with the sun. You could have never predicted the site that would make you stop short in your tracks. Standing near the large rocks of the water was Yord and he was the first to turn when he heard your footsteps and right next to him was the man who had practically hunted your friends for sport. He looked incredibly calm like he hadn’t just been baptized by blood, while Yord sported a look of fear.

“You’ve come to join us,” the stranger said.

You raised your lightsaber as you held it in a stance of attack. “Let us go,” was all you demanded.

“Your stance,” he tilted his head. “It’s weak.” 

That got a look of confusion out of you as you looked over to Yord who was also waiting for the other shoe to drop. The hunter rose from the rocks and Yord watched wordlessly as if the Jedi wasn’t scared for his life.

“I thought I taught you better than that,” his brow quirked as he so casually reached to shift the imperfections in your stance. 

You flinched at the deja vu. “What?”

“It’s a shame you can’t remember,” he murmured as he looked down. What kept you listening was the familiarity of it. The last time you felt it, you remembered a memory of your home planet.

“ I was just telling your friend about it,” Qimir said. Yord looked between him and you. “The way you were once my acolyte that is…now bound to the ways of the Jedi. How unfortunate,” he tutted.

“You’re a liar,” you simply accused.

“Am I?” He looks to Yord.

“I have no reason to lie. Especially when you bare my name. The one you found within a ring isn’t yours but mine. Yet, you took it because it felt familiar, right.” He looked at you with a calmness that took him hours of meditation to reach preparing for this moment. For years he practiced mourning, but in a short amount of time, he had to learn how to celebrate a resurrection.

You put the saber down as the crease in your forehead becomes more pronounced. The ring you wore was so ill-fitted that you sometimes wondered why you had it.

“It can’— No, no,” you protested.

He leans forward as you take a step back. His presence was all too intimidating but worst of all, familiar. “Your friend had just a taste and now he’s burdened with my memories and the secrets that order keeps, especially those from your master. Now, I’ll be fair and let him choose. He can either return to the order with the truth and leave you here or take your place as you return.”

You stood there taking in the preposition.

“[Name],” he said. You looked upon instinct and were surprised. “That’s your name.”

It sounded so heartwarming the way he said but you refused to let yourself grow comfortable.

“Yord,” you called his name with a beg in your tone. You weren’t sure what for. Begging to be told Qimir was lying. Begging to tell you the secrets he had been told. Begging for him to choose to fight until the end. “Don’t listen to him.” You walked to him

Yord shook his head. “There's, u-um. There’s no other way,” he said as his eyes darted to you and then to Qimir.

“Yord, please, you can’t be–” You tried to reach for him but he flinched.

“Qimir,” he was still using your old name. The name that you thought belonged to you. He refused to look at you. “Don’t come any closer.”

“How— Am I not your fellow brother?” You asked. 

“I have a duty to report back.” He was following right into what was expected.

“Am I not!” You panicked as you repeated in a panic. Your fears of being left alone were making you frantic so you practically clung to his hands hoping he’d see reason, but he had already chosen to abandon you by then.

He pushed you away and went running at the first signal that the Sith gave him. Running back like a coward harbinger to tell the gospel about what wrath was yet to come from Qimir. He left you there with only a small amount of remorse to weigh him down. On his way back he kept repeating, how could he trust you when your very foundation was the ways of the Sith.

You screamed as you watched him run. You wanted to run after him, back to what you knew, back to Master Sol, but you knew you’d be better off dead since you knew nothing of the forest and he’d drag you bag before going back on his promise.

“See how easily they turn on us,” Qimir said as he approached.

“Us? I am nothing like you,” you shook.

“You have an allegiance to Jedi like they aren’t traitors,” he spoke in disgust.

“Traitors? You gave him the proposition,” you hissed.

“Yet he took the choice that left you on this planet without a thought whether you’d stay dead or alive. He didn’t even ask,” he challenged with boiling frustration.

You went silent then clenched your fist as you spoke. “I will not stay here,” you declared.

“Then go back to a family who have never buried an empty casket because they thought you were dead!” he spat. 

“That’s not true–” you tried to overcome his anger. 

“I went crazy searching for you for years! Relentless!” he said. You’d finally poked enough to find his sore spot. “To them, it’s all conditional,” he declared. “Because once they find out you’ve been channeling your force on a broken heart, they’ll dispose of you.”

“My love for you is not,” he continued as he hurriedly stepped forward and grabbed your hands tightly. It was all too dizzying. 

“Why should I trust you?” you repeated the first words you said to Master Sol on the day he found you.

“I almost didn’t believe it until I heard the way your heart was beating in that room. You’ve got to remember how our hearts beat just the same.” You looked into every feature of his face as the darkness of his hair and the glow of his skin set off fireworks in the depths of your instincts.

“But, I can even show you. Let me show you.” He begged as he carefully moved to hold your face. You wondered if you were making a mistake, but told yourself that it wouldn’t matter anyway since you had nothing left to lose. You slowly nodded as you braced yourself. 

Qimir sighed deeply as he finally met his forehead with yours. It hit you like the weight of a beast like the entire earth was slamming onto you. Every memory and emotion he had felt went shooting through your brain like a bullet. 

The night he left to kill a Jedi you followed him. He and you escaped separately planning to meet back, but you never made it home. You gasped for air as you relived the way your lungs felt as you ran. The mystery of your origin once shackled you, but now it was the idea of what led you to the front steps of the order. 

His arm soothes your shoulder as he lightly lifts one of your hands to guide it to extend out. His calloused hands lightly covered your chest as he said “We tap into the force with our love for each other.” The lightsaber on the ground rose and then shot into your hands. “I don’t care how long it takes. I will reteach you.”

Qimir had no fear. His plan was still at the fight pace as although Mae had been apprehended she was still eyes on the inside.

“I will teach you how to repay the betrayal.” His eyes danced from your lips to your eyes before he rushed to kiss you like an all-consuming wave.

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Secret Ingredient

Summary- After Eddie helps you out you reward him with a batch of your very special homemade brownies

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- Stalker behavior from an unnamed character

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @gvf23 @wheels-of-despair @goatsmcgee @flawiette

(my tag list is always open, if you’d like to be added please let me know 💋)

Word Count- 1.8k

You sighed as you waited outside the front doors of the school.

You were finally set free close to two hours ago, and you had originally planned to meet up with Eddie a bit earlier, but of course Hellfire had come up and you knew he couldn’t miss something like that. He sure made it seem like he couldn’t miss something like that.

A few weeks ago you had come to him about a little issue with one of the guys around school. You didn’t know anything about this guy but it seemed like he knew an awful lot about you. Your name, your class schedule, even the car you drove to and from school and you hated knowing that no matter how many times you’ve told him to leave you alone it just wouldn’t end. He’d always be sneaking looks at you as you walked past or trying to make it seem like he just so happened to find the only spot open in the lunch room was next to him. And you’d rather eat in your car than be around someone who could care less about your own comfort.

Eddie wasn’t known as the kind of guy who would take care of situations like this, but you knew he was someone that wasn’t very well liked by the other students. Especially with his reputation. He was the perfect candidate to scare this creep off.

You came to Eddie last Monday, just as the bell rang for lunch while he was still getting some things together in his backpack. You explained the situation to him and he seemed like he was genuinely apologetic for how this guy was treating you. He could understand this guy having a little crush on you, that was to be expected, but he was taking it too far and Eddie didn’t like that one bit. You didn’t know each other well but he was absolutely willing to help you out. He is a gentleman after all, who was he to deny the request of a girl in need.

For the last two weeks it was perfect.

Eddie would walk you to your classes, even carrying your books for you, giving this creep menacing looks each time he caught his eyes on you. He’d watch out for you as you walked to your car, just to make sure this guy didn’t try to pull any cheap moves by catching you all alone. There was only one incident that he seemed to take too far, but you weren’t going to complain if it kept him away from you.

Yesterday, Eddie thought that this guy overstepped a boundary that he truly couldn’t believe. He had been keeping his eye on him, which meant he had the other guys keep their eyes and ears open for him any time they heard him say or do anything that seemed like it might be another ploy for him to get closer to you. Jeff was lucky enough to overhear him talking to his lab partner about you. About how you’ve been asking for him to do something ever since you saw him. About how you always play hard to get, but that just makes the chase all the more fun, and he was hoping to get you alone after school to finally put an end to this little cat and mouse game you were playing. And Eddie couldn’t wait to really hear what he meant by that.

Eddie had been waiting for him at his locker as soon as school was out, arms crossed, a smug grin on his face. He wasn’t a scary guy, but he sure could be intimidating. He waited until the students cleared out of the school, making small talk with the guy about how he’s sorry for causing so much trouble, and he wanted to hear his side of the whole thing.

Every word that came from this guys mouth was nothing but lies.

He explained to Eddie that you were just ‘confused’, and you knew exactly what you were doing. Walking around the halls with your makeup painted up all pretty, your outfits always showing off everything to any guy that looked at you. He wasn’t doing anything different than any other guy in the halls, he was just making his motives more clear to you. Eddie nodded along, just letting this guy go on and on, lessening his chances of leaving the school without a black eye. It was what he said next that got his blood boiling.

When Eddie told you all this, he said he just kind of blacked out. Something about him saying ‘(y/n) wanted his attention, no always meant yes under the right circumstances’. Needless to say, Eddie made sure he truly understood what ‘no’ and ‘stop’ meant.

If he didn’t want Eddie to grab his hair and slam his head into the locker he shouldn’t have been asking for it. It’s not Eddie’s fault the guy wobbled out of the building with his balls kicked up into his throat, no meant yes under the right circumstances.

The smile on your face was enough to let Eddie know his job was done.

Eddie insisted you didn’t need to do anything or give him any money for his help, he was just glad you knew that you were safe from whatever this guy was planning on doing. But you persisted. You needed to do something as a ‘thank you’ for him, and of course his friends that helped too.

And now here you were. Waiting next to the doors for their DnD session to end, and as soon as you heard a few muffled cheers in the distance you knew they’d be leaving the building within the next few moments. You checked the watch at your wrist, nearly 6:30.

Your attention was grabbed again as the doors opened up, the group of boys laughing amongst themselves as Eddie soon followed behind them,

“Alright, alright, i’ll see you guys monday,” Eddie laughed, “and i promise i’ll have a new session all written up by next friday.”

“Eddie.” You said with a smile, grabbing his attention.

“Hey!” He smiled to you, “See you guys later.” He waved to the guys as they dispersed to their cars and stepped over to you, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Look, i know you said that you didn’t need me to give you anything for helping me out, but…” You smiled and reached into your bag, pulling out a tupperware container for him, “i thought a ‘thank you’ was in order, so i made these for you.”

“For me?” Eddie smiled and took the container from your hands, “(y/n), you didn’t have to do tha-“ he stopped as soon as he opened the container. The smell alone was enough to get his attention.

You giggled at his surprised reaction.

“Did you- Are these?” He lifted the container to his nose and smelled them again, “No fucking way, you baked these yourself!?”

“Sure did.” You smiled, “They’re my famous brownies, but i added something a little extra for you.” You shrugged, “I know you said not to do anything for last week but i wanted to do something anyways.”

“Damn.” He laughed as he closed the container, “I didn’t think you were that kind of girl.”

“I’m not. Well… not all the time.” You shrugged, “Every now and then i’ll smoke when i just kind of need a break, but while my parents were out a few weekends ago i managed to figure out how to infuse butter with it. So i figured i’d make you something with it.”

“Thank you! You know you didn’t have to do that, it’s really nice of you.” Eddie held the container in his hands as he leaned up against the brick wall.

“I know i didn’t have to do anything, i wanted to. I really do appreciate all your help with this guy, i was worried it was getting to a point where he was gonna do something stupid and i’m glad you stopped it before he did. I still can’t believe he said all that stuff…”

“I can’t believe it either, it’s crazy to me that that’s how that guy thinks. ‘No means yes’, what an asshole.” He rolled his eyes just thinking back on that conversation, “He’s got no right to tell you or anyone else how to think. I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

“It’s alright,” You shrugged, “it’s all over now, so hopefully it doesn’t happen again.”

“It shouldn’t.” Eddie said with a smile, “I think i made sure the message got to him.”

You giggled and looked down to the sidewalk below, trying to hide the littlest bit of pink on your cheeks.

It was nice knowing how protective Eddie was of you, even without knowing each other all too well.

“Thanks again for all your help.” You said to him with a smile.

“Not a problem.” He said with a wink, making you blush even harder, “Can i walk you to your car?”

You nodded with a smile and slowly stepped out into the parking lot with him,

“Thanks.” You said to him as you made your way over to the door, “You really are a gentleman.”

“I have my days.” Eddie shrugged as he reached over and grabbed the door handle, pulling it open for you.

“Well i think you’re the first guy i’ve met who knows how to treat a girl. You’re really sweet, and i wished more people could see that.” You suddenly leaned forward, grabbing one of his cheeks and gently pulled him forward, planting your lips softly onto his cheek, “Thank you for being so nice to me. And let me know how those brownies are! You’re the first person other than me to try them.”

“Oh definitely,” Eddie smiled, a light tinge of pink touched his cheeks from your kiss, “and um… You know i’ve always wanted to learn how to make these, maybe sometime you can show me?” He asked.

The blush at your cheeks got redder and you smiled shyly,

“I’d be happy to.”

You stood there and smiled with one another for a moment, before seeing the sky start to get a bit darker behind Eddie as the sun began to set.

“Maybe…” He shrugged and looked down at the container in his hands trying to hide his own blush, “Next saturday?”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face getting bigger. His proposal was unexpected, but definitely not unwanted.

“That sounds perfect. I should probably be getting home, my dads gonna wonder what’s taking me so long. I’ll see you monday, ok? Oh!” You reached into your car and ruffled through the center console, grabbing an old receipt and a sharpie, quickly writing down your name and phone number for him, “Here. When you try those give me a call and let me know how they are.”

Eddie took the receipt from your hand and tried to hide his excitement,

“Yeah, absolutely, no problem. I’ll see you monday.” He shut your car door and stepped away, giving you a little wave as he watched you pull out of the space as he walked towards his van.

God, brownies and your number all in the same day? Eddie may have finally met his dream girl.

Monday couldn’t come soon enough.

[yanderes-galore]

May I ask for lmk Macaque with your list of prompts 59, 57 and 22 :3

Sure! Here's sadistic shadow monkey that follows you around :) I really do love him, lol. Hope you like the plot (It isn't much but I'm sure him learning you have other friends... opens old wounds.)

Yandere! Macaque Prompts 59, 57, 22

"Are those friends of yours? Are they your everything?"

"You're stuck with me, like it or not."

"They never loved you. Only I love you."

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Emotional manipulation, Stalking, Jealousy, Possessive behavior, Clingy behavior, Forced relationship/companionship.

Macaque had recently found a new toy to mess with. He had always been one to mess with humans for his own amusement. Mischief was one of his favorite things.

Speaking of favorite things...

"You aren't ignoring me, are you~?" His voice echoes around you, shadows changing shape on their own. You had grown used to such anomalies recently. Shadows following you around had been something you were dealing with for months.

"Aww, come on, sweetheart! Did you really think I'd just leave you alone? You're far too interesting for that...."

Just like that the shadow monkey manifests, piercing yellow eyes staring into you as he materializes. He has a grin on his face, arms crossed as he circles you. Here he was... your forced companion.

"It's just so boring without you in my sight, Y'know?" Macaque purrs, acting like he ever let you out of his sight. He follows you from the shadows and in animal form. Really... there's no way he ever takes his eyes off you.

Which is why he felt he should 'cut in' when he saw you with a group of supposed friends.

"Didn't even bother to invite me~?" Macaque pouts playfully, dramatic as ever. He then wraps his arms around you, fur tickling your skin as he flicks his tail. He can feel your body tense under his touch, making his grin return stronger. "I thought you loved me~? Aren't we friends?"

Macaque can see your teeth grit at his comment. In response he really rubs it in, nuzzling into you playfully with a sigh. Oh how he loves your little reactions.

"Not now, Macaque." You say, trying to shoo him away but the monkey stubbornly stays. You had just had finished hanging out with your group of friends before Macaque stepped in. So luckily... they didn't have to see you try to shake off a shadow monkey.

"Why~?" Macaque whispers, tail swaying as his grip tightens. "Were those friends of yours?" Macaque coos, circling so he's in front of you. His grin is teasing... but also appears to be hiding something underneath. "Are they your everything?"

"Yes?" You answer, making Macaque lean back and cackle. You glare at him... only to pause when he stops with a serious expression. He looks... irritated.

"Oh, sweetheart..." Macaque purrs, staying close to you. "Do you really think they care about you?"

"Hey, what's your problem!?" You growl, pushing at the monkey as he grips your hands. He grins, holding them up to place on his cheeks with a cruel look in his glowing eyes.

"What? Don't believe me?" Macaque frowns in a growl, playing with your mind. He doesn't like the idea of you having other friends. Really... you deserve so much better.

"Of course I don't!" You hiss, pulling your hands away as Macaque frowns.

"Really now?" Macaque tilts his head before giving a concerned look. "If anyone knew the truth, it would be me!"

You look at him confused, Macaque humming with a nod of his head. He begins to circle you again, occasionally prodding at you affectionately. He loved when you squirmed.

"Don't give me that look, dear! Can't you tell?" Macaque prods, leaning his head against you. "If I can follow you around... Then I can follow them! Which means..."

Macaque notices the hurt in your gaze, leading him to quickly latch onto you.

"Oh, don't worry... that's why I'm here!" Macaque chirps, embracing you. "You look like you're about to cry... it's okay... just let me comfort you~"

Macaque knew how to use his words. He knew just what to say to manipulate others. You, poor oblivious thing, looked like you believed him.

Which made it much easier to lure you in all for himself.

"They never loved you. I heard it myself!" Macaque nods, playing the role of looking genuine as he sees your eyes water. Such a bittersweet look. "Really, only I love you."

"You're lying..." You whisper, the monkey leaning closer to your face.

"I swear I speak only the truth." Macaque whispers, tilting your chin up. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

Macaque observes as you stare ahead, not quite trusting him. He understands, he's a known liar. In fact, he's lying right now.

But your emotions are quick to take over rational thinking.... It's not like you can prove him wrong, right? Maybe your friends really are just pretending.

"I see..." You whisper, Macaque smiling when he realizes he has you wrapped around his finger.

"You never needed them anyways, sweetheart." Macaque shakes his head, humming while he pets your hair. "Seriously, they were so dull."

You can see Macaque stick out his tongue in disgust before returning his attention to you. You swore his piercing eyes dilated as he wraps his tail around you. You couldn't believe this.

"Well, I think it's time I made you feel better." Macaque hums, patting your back playfully before grabbing your hand. "How about we go on a little walk? Get something to eat?"

You look hesitant. Macaque wasn't someone you could necessarily trust. Although... he's been working on getting better lately, right?

It's not like he's hurt you....

"Again with the looks?" Macaque pouts. "Yeesh, the truth hurts, doesn't it?"

You nod and Macaque hums, a grin returning to his face before he pulls you into him.

"Well, come here then!" Macaque sighs, embrace tight against you. "I'll be here to comfort you... maybe even teach them a lesson for you, yeah?"

Macaque chuckles darkly, eyes half shut while he holds you tight against him and presses his face beside your ear.

"After all, You're stuck with me, like it or not, sweetheart."

[thy-valhallen]

Batfam by How Likely They Are to Break the No-Killing Rule

Jason Todd. obviously, this is his bit, the man is okay with murder so long as he perceives due cause, pew pew babygirl, rubber bullets still can kill you but now, Bruce can't yell at him if they die later

Barbara Gordon. you cannot tell me this woman isn't bloodthirsty. she follows the rules because she plays nice and respects the justice system (mostly), but i fully believe she can and will fly a drone with a mounted gun and snipe someone from six blocks away one day if the other Bats are busy, and she might not feel inclined to call an ambulance

Stephanie Brown. a Narrows girl, she knows how shit can happen, and if someone's after one of the Batfam, you better believe she's got a knife at the ready. Steph follows the rule well! for now. but look, if she's in mortal peril, she's not about to put her attacker's life above her own

Tim Drake. Tim is the true neutral here to me-- he follows the Code because of the effect it would have on Bruce and the rest of the family. he fully understands this and avoids it. ... there are no less than six different timelines in which he has pretty freely murdered people, and the jokes about him being the Most Likely to be a Supervillain jokes are based in something, guys. i feel like it would be more of a problem if he weren't so exhausted and busy 24/7-- so let's keep him very busy so he doesn't catch a charge

Damian al Ghul-Wayne. he's had a lot of growth from his days of being a child assassin and puts a lot of value on following their Code now-- but look me dead in the eyes and say he wouldn't kill for most of his family in a heartbeat. lie to me.

Dick Grayson. he and Damian are tied for me in how it's fairly situational and both would suffer tremendous emotional backlash for the action-- but Dick has a lot of rage and a lot of people who have hurt him and his loved ones. there's a tipping point, and he's reached it before. he blames himself for so much, if he ever got caught up in his own wrath and actually game-ended someone, I think the man would never wear a mask again

Duke Thomas. Duke may be under-credited for his absolutely feral behavior, but murder is definitively not on that list. he is so down to throw down, but Duke has never (to my knowledge) had a close call with murdering someone like many of the others in this family. putting this mostly on his powers giving him a leg-up there, but powers or not, no body count and never expect that to change for him

Bruce Wayne. the epitome of the No-Killing Code except for all those times he's nearly killed someone in intensely stressful situations. is strict about it because he knows how easy a line it is to cross and how it would devastate him emotionally and holds that standard. no killing is probably a kitschy poster in the Batcave at this point, Jason got it lovingly printed on a metal sign next to the Batcomputer

Cassandra Cain. has killed and will never kill again-- Bruce has close calls and has to be stopped, Cass has close calls and reins herself in. the blood on her hands is red enough without more-- she's an obsidian blade, sharp enough to cut molecules but so very fragile. one bad move would break her, and being the strongest in the family, it would be so very easy to make that move and it would be easy to live in fear of herself. but she doesn't-- there's shit to do and crime to be carefully nerve-pinched, after all

Bonus:

Alfred Pennyworth. i couldn't rank him with the others, do you know how this would look if I started the list with Alfred??? this is an ex-MI6 agent. this is a man who responds to home invasions of any threat level from "Burglar" to "Darkseid" with a sawed-off shotgun and fresh pair of gloves in his pocket for after he's disposed of the body. he's killed and will kill again, just step within range, kind sir, and you'll find out

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 31

Could Never Stop

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 7853

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: The Emperor of the Sea sets sail from Karai Bari Island. Can he make it to the banquet in two days? More importantly, can Shanks regain his confidence, and do what needs to be done to save the woman that both of his lovers love?

Let the games begin! 🏹

Author's Note: Thank you for the wait! This month has been extra, but I also spent a ton of time and research writing this one since the game is getting started. I hope you enjoy it! I have soo many plans 🥰😈

There's a yucky Uncle Cedrick scene, but from now on we'll just have to expect that. I will continue to bracket sections if heavier situations come up, but at this point, I hope that Uncle Cuntdick will be his own warning 😬 We are meeting Dr. Vorsan this chapter, and I've bracketed the scene with these symbols ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ so as not to jump scare everyone!

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic currently contains spoilers for up to the end of the Wano arc, and potentially current arc minor details.

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Toxic Family, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Relationship Drama, Anal, Uncle Cedrick might just be his own warning, Doctors, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

“Go away, old man,” groaned a frighteningly hungover pirate captain, who was still face down on the floor of his quarters. Sheets with too many smells had already been stripped from his bed, but the night had held too much liquor for him to replace them on his own, so he’d slept on the rug.

“I’d love to,” Benn snorted, rolling Shanks onto his back. “Is my captain done drownin’ his sorrows?”

“Dunno what you mean.” 

He cringed while he pushed himself up to lean against the wall, and couldn’t meet his first mate’s eyes. 

“You’re too kind hearted for this, captain,” the older man sighed. “Why don’t you find a sweet, little barmaid to dote on like a respectable pirate, eh? What about–”

“I don’t want bunnies. I want…” Shanks growled, but his anger fizzled out at the thought of predators and prey.

“Nah. The Great, Red Haired Shanks just wants ungrateful brats that leave him crying on the floor a few times a year.”

The Great, Red Haired Shanks pulled himself to his feet, only to stumble over to an uncorked bottle in the corner, taking a grateful swig when he found it full. 

“Just had too much fun is all,” he laughed, the bitter taste drowning out the sweetness of the wine.

“Well, next time that creepy asshole gives my captain too much fun, I’m gonna make sure it’s him that’s crying, ya hear me?”

“Sure, old man,” Shanks snorted, letting his first mate guide him to the shower, still downing that wine to fight off images of wicked, beautiful eyes. He wondered how long it would take this time for the cruel hint of gold to leave his mind. 

The Great, Red Haired Shanks didn’t need bunnies or hawks. He just needed the sea, his crew, and another fucking bottle. 

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

“It’s been some time since our last session. How have you been feeling, Y/N?”

Dr. Vorsan’s pale eyes always felt sticky. Puddles of too much glue, waiting to capture anything you let slip from your shaky fingers, your trembling lips. 

Breathe.

“I’m feeling well, Doctor,” you lied, keeping your voice soft. “I’m sure you've heard about my recent behavior… I believe the experience has offered me some much needed clarity.”

Everything about this man was pale and watery, and you reminded yourself not to frown at his beige suit. It would have seemed like the doctor wanted to fade into the background, if every boring detail about him hadn’t been so exquisitely tailored.

“That’s good to hear,” he praised, though the emptiness in his voice had you fighting to stay present. “Why don’t you tell me about it. You’re going through a lot of transitions, Y/N. Major life changes, even positive ones, can cause a lot of strain. Have you been feeling strained, Y/N?”

“Mmssorry,” you slurred, fighting your lips that had already frozen, not even five minutes in. 

“You stated that your time with the Cross Guild brought you clarity,” Dr. Vorsan noted. Those sticky eyes seemed to warm while your body left your control, until you couldn’t meet them anymore, couldn’t look higher than his elbows. “By putting yourself in such a dangerous–”

“I wasn’t–” 

You were heavy and loose now, your whispered denial draining the last of your energy. 

“You’re in a safe place, Y/N,” he promised while he pulled a shiny, gold pen from his jacket, propping up a notepad on his knee. “Do you know where you are?”

He asked again, voice so soft, until you nodded in agreement. 

“Good, Y/N. Just take some deep breaths, and we can stop whenever you need to. We’ll help you get clarity, so you can stay well. Do you want to stay well, Y/N?”

“Y-yes, Doctor.”

“Wonderful,” he purred, scratching a note onto the top of his page, the movement of his manicured hands holding your gaze. “Why don’t you tell me about the clown?”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🗡️🤡🐊~~~

“With Sylvad’s cowardly level of security, I believe this would be too risky to use, but you should take it, in case the opportunity arises.”

“It’s so small,” Shanks hummed, inspecting Mihawk’s earpiece transponder snail, its tiny eyes blinking up at him slowly. “Maybe if I–”

“Save it,” Crocodile ordered, pushing away his untouched meal before closing the ornate shell container in Shanks’ palm, shutting those little eyes away. “Right now, the safest way to save our girl is for you to marry her. Don’t put that at risk by acting suspicious.”  

Shanks stared at the closed shell before tucking it away, looking up to find his old friend winking at him. 

“Don’t fret, love. We can have a belated bachelor party when you return,” Mihawk teased, combing his fingers through that bright, red hair.

“But Buggy—”

“I’m not thrilled about it either,” Crocodile sighed, standing to usher the other man out of the suite, “but it’s our best chance. That’s your mission. We’ll be listening, we have the location, and we can reach out to your crew if we need to share something vital. Can you do this?”

The two men stared each other down again, the swordsman’s hand dropping away to give them space. 

“I’ll bring her back,” Shanks swore again, offering Crocodile his hand. The larger man shook it, but the press of time killed their peaceful moment. 

The Emperor made his way into Adam’s room, waiting for Buggy’s permission to speak, but his clown looked pained, and Shanks couldn’t wait.

“What’s wrong, Bugs?”

Buggy’s hands were cramping from recording the pros and cons of the men that might marry his star. His throat was tired from swallowing nasty fears and guilt at the thought of Y/N actually finding someone she wanted to be with. 

“You’re leaving,” he whispered, letting out a sigh when Shanks nodded. Strong fingers were so gentle as they brushed hair behind his ear, pens not doing enough to hold up all of that blue. 

“I’m gonna fix this, Bugs.”

“She doesn’t believe…”

Though jealousy had turned him into someone he didn’t recognize, now when he saw that look of love in Buggy’s eyes for Y/N, Shanks wanted to burn all the oceans to bring them back together. 

“She loves me, but she thinks it’s over, Shanks. My star’s really looking for someone else.”

“That’s not gon–”

“Make sure it’s you, alright, shithead?”

Buggy pressed his last piece of hope into Shanks’ palm, before letting himself hold and be held by this beautiful man that had been so many things to him over the years. He sank to the floor, allowing soothing kisses to be left along his unraveling hair while slow, exhausted tears escaped him. 

Shanks opened his mouth to comfort, to promise, to share, but Buggy reached for the notepad again, mumbling about her “favorites.” After a rushed, bittersweet kiss, the red headed pirate was on his way, met by his golden eyed lover in the hall.

“Making sure I don’t run off with all your booze,” he tried to smile, feeling the weight of distance already crashing over him. 

“Something like that,” Mihawk teased. “I thought I’d send you off.”

~~~🔴🗡️🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“How was your session with Dr. Vorsan,” Uncle Cedrick taunted, filling the dining room with ice. 

“It went well.”

You’d managed to bring yourself back, to find your body and voice again before dinner, knowing that he’d be waiting to poke at you. 

“Excellent,” he purred, killing your appetite again. “He’ll be staying until the wedding, just in case you need the extra support.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” you hummed, forcing down a bite.

“So polite,” he laughed, touching your moms chin to lift her face up. “See, Delaine. A little time with the doc, and your daughter’s already feeling better. Maybe she’ll even stop asking her mama bird to chew up her food soon.”

“She can stop after the wedding,” you said coldly, not enjoying the cruel laugh he gave at her expense.

“Such a high maintenance bride,” he taunted, towering over you all when he stood from his seat, offering you his arm. “Come on, smarty. Let’s take a walk.”

Kat started to argue for you, but it was a pointless battle, so you left the other Sylvad ladies at the table, letting Uncle Cedrick guide you out to the lavish courtyard. 

“I know you’ve been reviewing the details with Kat, instead of your mother, but I expect you to be prepared tomorrow. You know the rules of the game?”

“The suitors have a month to win me,” you recited while he led you through the tables, dragging you to the beautiful, carved bench where the introductions would be held. “They’re not allowed to fight amongst themselves unless it’s for the game, and they have to leave grudges aside until after someone wins my heart. They’ll all have time with me as a group and in private, and they can woo me however they like, so long as it doesn’t endanger me, or take me off the island.”

The pride in his smile wasn’t for you, but he beamed it at you, nonetheless.

“Since you’ve been doing so well, I’m sure you can remember a few more rules. Think you can handle that, smarty?”

“Yes, Uncle,” you agreed, sending your rage down into the stone beneath you. 

“You need to remember that choice is a fucking luxury, Y/N,” he threatened, brushing the hair back from your face while he leaned too close, his cologne filling your lungs. “After the fiasco you could have caused, and after all these years of abusing my patience, you’re lucky I’m letting you play this little game at all.”

His hateful words were drawn out with lazy pleasure, and he kept his fingers in your hair, stroking you like a pet. Like his pretty doll.

“You’re going to give all of your suitors a fair chance. They’re here to enjoy themselves, so I won’t have you chasing anyone off too soon. You’re going to whittle them down slowly, and carefully, and with my approval. Your final two suitors will be offered a deal, and if they don’t accept it, they won’t get my blessing.”

“So…”

“So, do whatever you need to do to convince the men you like the most to take that deal.”

Nodding so you wouldn’t spit, you seethed when he tugged at your chin the way he’d touched your mother’s earlier. Your eyes were forced to his, and the stars above seemed to burn like acid as your face tilted up toward them. 

“I’ll do anything to protect this family,” Uncle Cedrick vowed as he rubbed his thumb across your snarling lips. “If there’s a man that can offer a better deal, then he’ll get my blessing, no matter your preference. So get ready to use this smart, little mouth of yours, niece. I wonder if you’re a good enough whore to convince anyone to stay? Though I have to confess, after all of your tantrums, I think my spoiled brat of a niece might deserve a man that can put her in her place.”

He laughed at your stifled hatred, wiggling your face before releasing you. 

“Give them all a chance to win you,” Uncle ordered, satisfaction dripping from his parted lips. 

He enjoyed watching you suffer. Enjoyed it in a way that made your skin crawl, but you could never fully hide your rage from him, no matter how skilled you became. He could fucking sniff it out. 

“If I catch you sabotaging any suitor’s feelings for you before I’ve given the approval to drop them, then I’ll make sure you get some extra special time together. It’s only fair.”

All of the acceptance you’d been building up was crashing down around you, and you held in your tears, not wanting to see the pleasure on his face if he tore them from you. 

You wanted to run away.

He found me. He could have had Karai Bari wiped off the fucking map, and Buggy…

“Well, niece, do you understand? Or do I need to—“

“I’ll fuck the one’s I like to make them take your deal,” you growled, almost losing your vision from the rage that was coursing through you. “And I’ll fuck the one’s I hate so you won’t know which piece of shit to trap me with.”

Cedrick Sylvad threw his head back, bellowing his cruel laughter up to the twinkling sky. 

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” he wheezed, before leaving you there with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Don’t stay up too late, niece.”

He didn’t leave you with a guard. There was no need. 

I’ll never get away. These are my choices. Pros and cons.

The silent courtyard felt like a cemetery while you struggled to move, to head off to bed, and end this shitty night. Your fingers found their way to your locket, the touch of warm metal helping to calm your breathing while you stared at all the cold, shining stars above you. 

“At least I have all those pretty daydreams,” you whispered, feeling like an empty doll as you floated off to bed. 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

“Hawk Eyes.”

It had been a couple of years since Mihawk had stepped foot onto the Red Force, but his body had memorized every step toward the captain’s quarters, and they walked there without a thought. 

Until a tall, scowling man blocked his path.

“Good afternoon, Benn. How—“

“How about you get the fuck—“

“Hey now,” Shanks laughed, stepping between his first mate and the swordsman, who’d raised a brow at the threatening tone. “We’re good, Benn! He’s just seeing us off.”

“Well, I’ll see him off a fucking cliff if he makes you—”

Shanks cut him off, pulling Mihawk into his quarters while Benn narrowed his eyes, his arms flexing as he crossed them over his chest. 

“If I make him…” Mihawk asked, focusing on the hint of pink that was blossoming on Shanks’ cheeks. 

Cute.

“Benn, get the crew ready. We’re heading out soon.”

“Aye, captain,” he agreed, still leaning toward the swordsman through the doorway. Benn jerked his head to the side as unruly strands of long, gray hair escaped his tie, getting in the way of his glare. “If you ever make my captain cry again, I’m gonna turn those pretty, gold eyeballs into pretty, gold earrings, ya hear me?”

“Thanks, Benn,” Shanks shoved the man out, locking himself into his quarters with his wicked, old friend whose mouth was hanging wide open. He might have laughed at the sight if he hadn’t wanted to crawl under the floorboards. 

Fuck you, Benn…

“Cry?”

Shanks had watched those lips move. He’d heard that voice speak. 

Yet his mind couldn’t connect that trembling word to the deadly rival before him.

The sweetness that had echoed through Mihawk’s bones with every step beside his lover had curdled again, guilt and shame scraping up his throat, strangling the words he’d hoped to share.

I don’t deserve it. 

“You’re shaking,” the red haired pirate breathed as he reached for one of those dangerous hands. Everything was unsteady. Nothing in this world fit anymore, but Shanks tried to laugh it off. “Is Dracule Mihawk feeling jealous? I never had you pegged for the marriage type.”

“No,” he choked a laugh, brittle and stinging as he sat on the bed. The same, old bed they’d shared countless times. “I’m so sorry, Shanks.”

Those words again.

This “vacation” of his had felt like the most outrageous, delicious dream held hostage by a nightmare, and Shanks felt a sudden terror that he was about to wake up to find it was all gone. 

In case it was about to disappear, Shanks sat beside his vicious, old friend, and pressed a kiss to the man’s temple. Mihawk wrapped his arms around him, clinging, feeding into the unreality of this soft, lovely dream. 

“Are you alright, Hawk,” Shanks breathed.

Instincts would have sent the swordsman out the door by now. Every thought pushed him out, guilt, and fear, and lies, no longer strong enough to outweigh the need to keep holding Shanks against him, to keep inhaling his comforting scent. 

The need to run was fueled by his new piles of shame. An unconscious demand to leave. Leave. Leave. 

“I’m done…”

“What’s that,” Shanks tensed at the whisper. He fought his rising dread, tracing his fingers through that pretty, black hair. As they always had, Mihawk’s hypnotic eyes made his world pause, yet in this moment they seemed like true magic. The swordsman had once been blank, unknowable, giving no depth, though Shanks had reached and delved as far as his old rival would let him.

Now those golden eyes were hypnotizing not for their blankness, but for the swirling depths that pulled him in. Pools of molten metal, pain, and need, and other things Shanks couldn’t think clearly enough to try to understand. 

Mihawk couldn’t understand how this beautiful, glorious man could still stand to look at him, let alone offer him comfort. He almost talked himself out of the room again, but vowed that he was done being a coward. He would fight. He would never run. 

Never again.

“I know I…” Mihawk started, losing his train of thought while he stared at his old friend that could have been something so much more. 

What’s the point of being safe if I can’t even… 

“Hawk?” 

 “I love you. I know it’s too late. I’m sorry, I–mmn!”

All that dread exploded, leaving Shanks absolutely fucking high. None of this could be real, but what a dream. 

“Took you long enough, old friend,” he purred. Mihawk whimpered beneath him, shaking under his touch after Shanks had pushed him onto his back, kissing him as though he’d disappear if he stopped. 

“I’m s-sorry, Sha–”

“Are you lying? Manipulating me?”

He gripped Mihawk’s face, wanting to throw this fear off the ship. Gods, he wanted to believe it, to feel it. 

Mihawk let out a breath, a weak sob, as the gold of his eyes was dressed with diamonds. The monster was even more hypnotizing when he cried.

“I’m not lying,” he confessed. Memories flooded the swordsman now, filling the air around him with regret, and with the hope he was fighting to keep. He reached up, cupping Shanks’ face while he blinked away his salty fear. “You loved a coward, old friend, but I’m done running. I love you. I’m so sor–”

Shanks couldn’t tell if he was laughing, or crying as he fell onto the wicked, intoxicating man beneath him. 

“I love you too, Hawk. I still love you. Could never stop.”

“Shanks…”

“Say it again,” Shanks breathed while he kissed along Mihawk’s throat, dizzy while one of his dearest fantasies played out before him. 

“I love you, Shanks.” Mihawk shivered, clinging, reaching, falling to pieces. Shameful parts of him still screamed to run, still thought so many cruel, ungrateful things, but there was nothing like the satisfied sounds his lover made when he said those words. “I have loved you in my cowardly heart. I’m sorry I– fuck!”

The red haired pirate fisted his hair with vicious force while he rutted his clothed cock against him, chuckling as he watched those hypnotizing eyes flutter with need. 

“Why are you sorry?”

“I…”

Mihawk was already lost in him, and Shanks let that sweetness pour over his body, his breath relaxing as he decided how to take care of his lover. 

“You’re sorry because you didn’t say you love me, right,” he purred, kissing tingles into Mihawk’s skin as he breathed along his temple to his jaw. The swordsman gave a weak nod, and a little whine, so Shanks nibbled at his ear, telling his boy how to please him. 

“I don’t wanna hear another ‘sorry,' you hear me,” he threatened, tracing his thumb along Mihawk’s hip, dipping down into those low riding pants. “You’d better keep telling me what you should have back then.”

“Shanks,” Mihawk moaned, undoing the lacings of his own clothes before clawing at Shanks’, desperate beneath the sway of that crooked smile. “I love you.”

The Emperor of the Sea forgot.

Nothing to do. Nowhere to be. 

Shanks just had to make this man say those words again and again. It had been so fucking long. They touched and kissed every inch of each other in their mad rush to claim every moment before the dream faded away, until the swordsman looked over his shoulder, begging so pretty. So perfect. 

“I need you, daddy,” Mihawk relaxed, ready. “Need you, love you, want… mm, please…”

“I need you too, bright eyes,” Shanks hummed, fingers finding their way in, cool lube easing the stretch while he made his lover moan into the wrinkled sheets. “I need my pretty boy to let me love him. You finally gonna let me, Hawk?” 

“Please,” he begged. The press of Shanks’ cock teasing at him was too much, and he writhed, shoving himself back until he cried out, earning the full force of that powerful body. 

“Look at you. Knew you’d be so good for me, baby.”

His fingers caressed while he pressed that pale skin into the mattress, and Shanks let everything go, praising, taking, and hurting his lover until they both went fucking mad. Mihawk let himself feel safe in the pleasure and the pain.

Safe. 

His lover made him cry, and bleed, and come, before laying his own claim. Shanks’ heavy cock filled him, on and on, leaving Mihawk twitching and whining. There they stayed, breathing, sweating, and whispering those words until they remembered. 

“I’ve gotta go, Hawk... Will you still love me when I come back,” Shanks asked as reality returned, failing to hide all the true fear in his voice.

“My lover gone away to sea. I shall await thee,” Mihawk hummed, moaning when Shanks pulled away, his body still craving his touch. 

“Are you writing love poems already?”

Mihawk could have stayed in that bed for days, but she was there in his mind. Still trembling from love and pleasure, fear followed him while he helped Shanks clean the evidence of their selfish lust, low chuckles still warming the air around them through it all. 

“I’ll write poetry for you, my love,” he breathed, eyes fluttering at the new touches he’d earned. “But you’re right. You need to leave.”

Demands felt wrong, so the swordsman finished drying and dressing his lover, until the Emperor pulled him close, their foreheads pressed together while he tried not to succumb to his own selfish terror. 

“I love you, Hawk Eyes,” Shanks let out one more time, while the memory of empty eyes burned through his soul. Y/N had helped both of his lovers, had helped him find them again, to hold them again, had helped them open up.

I owe her everything.

“I love you too, Red Hair,” Mihawk gave a true smile, shaky though it was. The voice calling for him to run was easily ignored with the gratitude and desperation rolling through him now. “Please–”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Shanks laughed, kissing those lips again before leading his deadly lover off the ship. “If I can win over Dracule Mihawk’s icy heart, then there’s no beast I can’t charm.”

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.” 

Kat managed to pull a laugh from you while servants buzzed around, swarming like bees as you waited in the courtyard for your new life to begin.

Whenever a big tree fell on Sylvad property, it would be easy to cart it away, to sell it into little pieces, but this courtyard was built to show off one of your favorite family traditions.

The last few generations of Sylvad’s had refused to let a fallen tree be scurried away like something to be ashamed of. If a tree fell on a Sylvad estate, it was to be celebrated to honor the hard work and creativity that made your family’s name synonymous with power, wisdom, and enough wealth and status to rival nobility. 

You sat on one of those dead trees, the trunk carved into a formidable, layered bench along the base of the manor, while the lantern lit courtyard stretched out toward the forest. On and on the bench seemed to go, covered with lifelike, and even life size animals trying to spring into your world from the fallen wood.

Childhood memories trampled over you for a moment, just like your little body had once tried to climb and claim this wonder of the forest. The obedient bees brought you back to the present, doing some last minute touch ups to your hair and makeup while they fluffed up your giant gown. 

Asking why you were in a white dress before your wedding day had sent you into rigid silence once the rest of the ensemble was forced onto you.

Don’t bite the help. Don’t bite the help… Do deer bite people?

“I’ll be right over there all night, okay,” Kat’s voice pushed through the mass of bodies. “Make that face if you need me to step in.”

“There’ll be no need for that, ladies,” Uncle scolded, his presence scattering the hovering pests around you. He beamed at your sister while he patted her cheek, before sending her to sit with your sulking mother. Kat gave you a weak smile, leaving you on that extravagant bench while your uncle managed to sit beside you without mussing your dress. 

The music may have been pretty. The lanterns lighting up beneath the golden, darkening sky might have been enchanting. 

It was even possible that one of the men in that crowd of guests breaking through the treeline onto the stone pathway would make a lovely husband. 

You tried to breathe, tapping nervously against the locket you’d stuffed into the corset of your dress since it hadn’t “fit the theme.”

What a feeling it was to finally know that love was real. Yet, such was your fate that you had to keep killing and burying the futile wish that you could have kept it for yourself. 

All of these men are here to own me. Every single one.

“Don’t forget to smile, dear niece,” Uncle taunted, leaning close enough to warm your cheek with his words. He laughed at his little joke, while you tried to obey.

You were the white stag. 

You were his helpless prey, whose sole purpose was to be hunted, mounted, and displayed. Nothing more than a tasty trophy.

The stupid, white antlers in your hair felt heavier with each moment while you watched your hunters stalk ever closer. The men had separated from their guests who were being seated so that everyone could watch your uncle’s little show, while the suitors formed a line.

“If you–”

“You already won, Uncle,” you cut him off, eyes scanning the edge of the forest while more figures appeared. “I’ll be well behaved venison from here on… what the f–”

“Smile.”

No fucking way.

Kat had followed your line of sight, and if your face matched the look on hers, you needed to shake it off now. The last thing you needed to do was offend one of these men that could squash you like a bug.

Sis was right. We should have asked for measurements. 

Swallowing manic laughter at the thought, you split into pieces, becoming the hunted. The truest part of you watched the show from a deep, dark hole within while you smiled at Uncle Cedrick, although your body couldn’t hide the shivers that broke through. 

“Smart girl,” he hummed, curdling your stomach before he pressed your hand into an old man’s wrinkly grip.

Your suitors had arrived.

“Giberson, lovely to see you. Let me introduce you to my niece. She’s—“

“The Cross Guild’s young CFO, if my sources aren’t mistaken? I can’t imagine there’s another Y/N Sylvad gallivanting about.” Giberson caught you off guard, and you were a deer in the headlights when his scratchy, white mustache tickled across your fingers. 

His words had left you frozen, and he released your hand, seeming a little wobbly while he balanced with his jewel encrusted cane. The old man adjusted his pin striped hat, making his tall body seem even lankier in the matching suit.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Uncle Cedrick laughed, clapping the old man on the back. “You probably know more about the competition than I do. So, have you decided to join the game, or will you just be staying for the entertainment?”

This old man is one of the Emperors of the Underworld… 

Giberson’s dossier had been the lightest you’d received, yet somehow that made him more frightening, along with his epithet; The Concealer.

“Hopefully I’ll have more luck at this wedding than I did at the last one I attended. Bodies just don’t recover the same when you get to be my age,” Giberson chuckled as he tapped his knee with his cane a few times. “Still, I may be old, but I can’t resist the offer to join in such a delightful game.”

“Happy hunting, good man. I’m confident that some time in Y/N’s company will put some pep back in your step,” Uncle encouraged, pulling an intricately carved arrow from a quiver at his back, adding to the vision of the dark hunter he exuded tonight. He handed it to you, giving you the illusion of choice.

You’d been told not to stand unless you absolutely had to, so you looked up at him through your lashes. Your painted doe eyes needed no help looking helpless, but you obeyed just the same. Giberson smelled of whiskey when he leaned down to accept the arrow from your grasp, a satisfied smile on those aged lips. 

“Just watch out, little lady. These young boys aren’t done fighting yet,” he stepped back, nodding subtly over his shoulder. “It would be a shame to see such a precious thing get caught up in the crossfire. I’d rather like to avoid that fate myself this time around.”

“Not to worry, Giberson, we’re all here to enjoy a more civilized kind of battle. Although, the betting pools have already added a few extra categories for all the possibilities this month presents.” 

The men ignored you now, but you had to keep your face mildly pleasant while you reminded yourself not to scratch it, so as not to risk fucking up the subtle deer makeup across your nose and cheeks. 

Humiliating.

You were the only animal at the banquet. The only thing on the menu. Everyone else got to be human.

Well, maybe not everyone… 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

“Are these supposed to be this fucking tight? This can’t be right…”

Shanks tugged and pulled at the dove gray pants he’d been gifted by Sylvad’s attendants, his head snapping up at the choked sound coming from his first mate’s throat. 

“What’s wrong?”

Benn had changed quickly, the banquet already getting started when the two of them had stepped foot onto the private island. The older man had lucked out, easily fitting into the borrowed suit that was such a dark blue it was almost black, although he’d rolled up the sleeves, and traded the jacket for his purple cloak. Having some breathing room around his muscular arms made him seem slightly less annoyed since their weapons had to remain on the Red Force. 

Benn was too distracted to care about their weapons at the moment though, wheezing while he watched his mighty captain try to stuff all of his bits into those tiny pants. 

“Did you try the other pairs?” Benn failed to hide his laughter, having to clear his throat and look away.

“They're all the same size– He can’t really expect me to wear this?”

His eyes were wide, unconsciously shaking his head while he gaped at his reflection. 

The tight, gray breeches seemed designed specifically to showcase every curve of his cock and balls. The soft fabric was tucked into black, knee high boots that a certain swordsman would have coveted, but Shanks felt like he was going insane with the urge to light the borrowed clothes on fire. 

“No. I’m not going out there like this,” Shanks resisted.

“You said you’d do anything for her, captain. Don’t you wanna get on the uncle’s good side?” Benn’s laughter vanished while he draped a black cloak over his Captain’s shoulders, fastening the high collar around his throat. His thick fingers trailed down over the frilly, white shirt, checking the small, black vest that was little more than a girdle, before tying off his captain's sleeve. “This bunny of yours worth the tight pants?”

“Emperor Shanks, sir,” came a soft voice beyond the door. “The banquet is underway, is there anything I can assist– Oh I– Oh…”

He forgot what he was about to ask this poor girl when he opened the door, because the look on her face gave him everything he needed.

“You doing alright, darlin,” Shanks purred, touching one of the girl’s bright, red cheeks.

Benn chuckled, pushing through the doorway, and onto the stone path, ordering his captain to hurry it up.

“Y-yes, I am, sir,” she trembled, letting out a giggle when Shanks winked, and the sweet sound brought him back. 

“Good girl. Why don’t you show us where to go?”

~~~

“You always strut, but I can’t remember the last time I saw you strutting like this,” Benn smirked. 

“I can’t help it! These boots have heels.” 

Shanks stuck out his tongue before they passed beyond the denser trees. 

“You have been invited to join the game, Emperor Shanks.” The servant bowed her head while she gestured toward the center of the decorated courtyard. “I’ll lead your guest to his table now, unless you’d rather not accept the offer?”

“Why not,” Shanks beamed at her, though the sight of his competition made him fight not to sway on those uncomfortable heels. 

“Looks like you and your tiny pants might be outmatched, captain,” Benn whispered, patting him on the back before following the pretty girl to a table full of enemies. 

Shanks had barely made it here in time, and felt a twinge of guilt return while the last suitors moved out of the way, but the sight of her stopped the blood in his veins. 

Twilight had crept into dusk, and the dancing light of the lanterns bathed her painted skin, her white dress, and ethereal antlers, seeming to glow from within. Y/N shone like a wounded star, bleeding out her light for all of these monsters to drink. 

“The clothes suit you well, Emperor,” Cedrick purred, making his niece flinch. She hid herself away before Shanks could decipher what he’d seen behind her mesmerizing eyes. 

“I had no idea that fashionable friends could be so generous,” he charmed, stalking closer and closer until he caught her cold hand in his. “Or that I’d have the pleasure of meeting such a gorgeous, little bunny again so soon. Sorry, you're a gorgeous, little doe, aren’t you?”

She stared while he pressed his lips to her knuckles, and he took in every detail, wishing he could just grab her and run.

She’s not wearing Buggy’s locket… 

Before new anxiety could set in, Shanks had to swallow his rage at the sound of that voice. 

“Either would make for a good hunt. The nice Emperor asked you a question, Y/N,” Sylvad taunted, tapping her thigh with a decorative arrow. 

“It’s alright, bunny.” He gave her a crooked smile while she gave him nothing, so he turned to the smirking piece of shit by her side. “From what I’ve gathered, we might get to spend some more time together soon. Do I have that right, new friend?”

“I treat my friends very well, but family is everything,” Cedrick vowed. “There'll be plenty of time to discuss details later, but if you’d like to accept the offer to join this little game, then you may get to enjoy more than just our famous Sylvad hospitality.”

Shanks bought himself some time by letting his eyes rake over her again.

I’m a villain. I’m not here to rescue her.

“How could I resist?”

“Go on,” her uncle beamed with triumph, shoving the arrow into her hand. 

The woman that had captured the hearts of the only two people Shanks had ever truly loved met her Uncle’s cruel gaze before looking back up at the Emperor of the Sea. Her eyes fluttered while she offered him the arrow, keeping her hands close to her face so that he felt her breath on his fingers as pulled the symbolic weapon from her grip.

His lips parted as he became trapped in her eyes again, although that haunting pull had been replaced by a desire so hot, it rivaled the stars. Y/N's bare need felt like a gift from the heavens. 

“Thank you,” he breathed, twirling the arrow in his fingers while he bowed his head at that fallen star, before winking at her captor.

“Happy hunting, Shanks.”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Giberson had finally stopped gossiping with Uncle Cedrick, so you became the prey again, smiling up at your next suitor.

Suitors.

You couldn’t help glancing toward Kat while her favorite pick stepped up alongside his brothers. 

These men should have been intimidating, and they had been, for a moment.

Yet now, the three princes of the Germa Kingdom were all staring down at you like hungry puppies.

What the fuck?

“Welcome, Ichiji, Niji, Yonji. This is my niece, Y/N. It is an honor to welcome you to our humble estate.”

“The honor is ours,” one of the princes crooned, laying a kiss with almost too much pressure against your knuckles.

Ichiji. The red head is Ichiji. 

Your mind rattled through everything you could recall while his green and blue haired brothers took their turns, their loose shirts and billowing capes moving prettily in the light breeze. 

Somehow the word “prince” had made their blatant lust seem shocking, and you almost laughed at how fucking naive that was. 

They were here to buy you, just like all the rest, and their royal hands lingered on your skin when they accepted their arrows. 

~~~

“There you are, old friend!”

“Cedrick. It’s good to see you.”

“Mr. Iceburg?”

Excitement tore through you, and you almost leapt to your feet so you could hug your dad’s old friend.

Your uncle’s old friend… 

Iceburg, the Mayor of Water 7, and the CEO of Galley-La.

You’d had an embarrassing crush on the man, even before he brought all of those shipbuilding companies under one name seven years ago, creating his own empire. Water 7 was your company’s most powerful, and profitable connection, so you’d spent a lot of your childhood on that watery island while your dad made deals with this handsome entrepreneur. 

He’d always been kind, and funny, and had never ignored or patronized you like so many of the other business contacts dad had made you spend time with. 

“Well, Y/N, don’t you look stunning,” Iceburg hummed, leaning down close to kiss your cheek. It was something he’d done many times, but your skin still flushed with heat as it always had. “I hardly recognized my little numbers girl.”

With your mouth hanging open, you felt like a child come face to face with her dream, only to find that the dream carried a bitter aftertaste. 

But it still looked fucking good. 

Your eyes traveled up and down his tall frame, snagging on the black, leather pants tucked into knee length boots. He had rarely buttoned his shirts all the way before, but now the loose fabric of his rust-colored tunic hung wide open, and you found yourself blinking up at the lovely frame it made around his tanned skin, and dark, blue chest hair.

“Don’t keep our dear friend waiting, Y/N,” Uncle Cedrick urged, tapping your hands with the arrow until you snapped out of your teenage fantasy. 

“May I,” Iceburg asked, his eyebrow raising just a bit while he watched you nod.

He’s here to buy me. He wants to buy his friend’s daughter. Wants to…

His thumb traced over your wrist before he pulled away, the rough touch of a carpenter's hand making you shiver. 

“See ya, girlie,” Iceburg winked, wrecking you for the next hopeful. 

~~~

Luckily the next hopeful didn’t matter, although it felt like you’d just lost a safety net.

“I do apologize,” whined the most ‘boring’ candidate, Mr. Halvens. “I’m afraid I will have to decline. There are certain elements here that I cannot have my name associated with.”

“Not to worry,” Uncle laughed. “You’re welcome to stay for the banquet, although I'd recommend keeping your voice down if you plan to disparage my other guests again.”

The poor man went pale, and you were disgusted with your urge to laugh at his pathetic scrambling when your uncle’s laughter rolled over you first. 

~~~

“Prince Fukaboshi,” you projected, staring up at the massive merman. There was a ring of what looked like a bubble around his waist, and his blue, spotted tail seemed to float just slightly above the ground. 

You had prepared yourself for a merman. 

Not for a fucking giant. 

“I am looking forward to winning your heart, Miss Sylvad,” he charmed, although the effect was strange from almost two stories up. Fukaboshi's regal voice rushed toward you when he leaned down, and you tried to smile under that sharp face, that cloud of light, blue hair. 

The arrow seemed to shrink once his fingers pulled it so carefully from yours, before he joined his guests at the edge of the courtyard. You could still feel the prince's gaze, like a cool weight over your skin.

~~~

How the fuck… 

The fact that the next suitors weren’t even the tallest people you’d met tonight was insane, and you had to fight not to let panicked laughter escape while you were introduced to these two brothers. 

“Thank you so much for coming. This is my niece, Y/N. I know she’s been looking forward to meeting you both, Cracker, and Katakuri.” Uncle Cedrick smiled at the frightening brothers, seeming almost giddy when he handed you their arrows. 

Cracker leaned down first, and he had to be a couple of feet taller than… He also carried a fierce scar on his face, scraping across his right eye. When he grinned, his bright, pink irises seemed to eat you up, a near manic look behind them. 

You couldn’t make sense of his clothes, so you tried not to look at the giant fucking crackers hanging around his belt, or at his light, purple hair that was tied into long buns that seemed to be crackling with fire.

Katakuri was even taller, almost as tall as the merman prince, but he went to a knee to get closer to you. His clothes were all leather with scratches and spikes artfully placed to look even more ready for violence. Pink tattoos kissed along his bare chest and arms, and the color went well with his crimson hair and eyes, but you couldn’t see more of his face below the fur scarf he had wrapped up to the bridge of his nose. 

His eyes were intense, knowing, and the sheer size of him amplified his frightening, but lovely, features. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I hope that our families can join their strengths soon.”

The Charlotte brothers left you breathless while the courtyard buzzed with the sounds of guests enjoying their drinks as they waited for dinner to start, celebrating the thought of you being claimed by one of these lucky suitors. 

~~~

Twilight had crept into dusk, and you let yourself take a breath, knowing that the line must be coming to an end. Everyone in your mom’s book was already here, plus Iceburg, and there couldn’t be too many last minute… 

Shanks?

The Emperor of the Sea stood framed by the growing night, dressed like a wicked horseman on the hunt. He stared at you as though he were surprised to find you there. 

As though this fucking traitor hadn’t broken his promise as soon as Uncle Cedrick had shown up. The image of Shanks leaning close, smiling, and flirting with your uncle at the Cross Guild’s party felt like molten metal through your gut. Then he’d run away. You’d seen him, that stupid, red hair slipping through the crowd, fleeing the vow he’d made to you. 

Liar. Liar. LIAR! 

Somehow you stayed very deep inside yourself after Uncle’s voice made you flinch, even while this filthy leech touched your hand. You couldn’t hear what he was saying while he talked to his new best friend.

You’re just another bitch for my uncle’s money, aren’t you? Disgusting trash.

You almost laughed. Almost let it out.

Uncle Cedrick tapped your thigh with the arrow, and the visceral image of shoving it into one of Shanks' poisonous, “soft,” brown eyes felt intoxicating. 

Pathetic. You’re just like all the rest. The Great Red Haired Shanks is no hero. Just another piece of shit that would betray his love for some berry. 

Rage and nausea battled for more space within you, until your uncle shoved the arrow into your hand, and you remembered.

I can't let Uncle see how much I hate him.  

A wave of desire and power burned through you, and you let yourself feel nothing but need while you offered Shanks that weapon instead of using it against him. It felt as though you were possessed, but you welcomed the chaos of mindless lust, relishing in it when those soft eyes went dark before he finally got the fuck away from you. 

Did he just fucking thank me?

Uncle started to address the crowd, and you knew you should be listening. You tried to be here, to survive. 

Traitor. Liar. Leech. Trash.

Breathing felt impossible. Your corset seemed tighter now, making the hidden locket dig into your skin, reminding you that Buggy was all alone. 

There had never been a chance for you to have true love in your life. Not the cursed heiress of Sylvad’s. Not with your Uncle’s plans.

Your sweet, lovely clown deserved better. 

But Shanks betrayed you both. He'd abandoned Buggy after one conversation with Cedrick Sylvad, just as weak and worthless as your first two "loves." 

Uncle offered you his hand, and you stood without knowing what was next, but all that came next was applause. Happy, little vultures excited for their next meal. 

“Did you hear me,” he hissed at you before shrugging for the crowd. “I think our white stag is feeling a bit skittish, but that's nothing a little chase can't fix. The first hunter to catch her claims the first date!”

Chase?

“Run along now, niece,” Uncle Cedrick smirked, nodding toward the trees. Night had officially fallen as he led you down that stone path, the eyes of all the hunters following your every step toward the darkened forest. “You’ve got a ten minute head start, Y/N. Better decide which arrow you'd rather be pieced with tonight.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: Yes, I dressed Shanks up like Jareth the Goblin King. No, I am not sorry 😅

Who do you think is going to catch our white stag? I'm having so much fun with this game! 🥰🏹 Check out the poll below, or you can just tell me what you think about our lineup! I've been going crazy over it, especially since I try to stick as close to canon possibility as I can for some weird reason, lol.

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000 | @mercymccann | @horse-and-writer97

Part 32

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[von2dutch]

Sugar baby | Jey Uso

Chapter two

Synopsis: Sex is not a big deal. ...You can have a no-strings-attached arrangement with someone you don’t care about.

Pairing: Jey uso X Black Fem reader | word count: 4.2k | warning: smut, toxic behavior , protected sex | 18+ ONLY

Hey my babies this is part two to the series hope you all enjoy this one as well! If you haven’t read the first one then go check it out.

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@blacst4r

@paigereeder

@whatdoeseverybodywant

@empressdede

@superpietom

@bebesobrielo

@solefae

@skyesthebomb

@reci1996

Lastly , Enjoy

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“Jeyyy— ugh, fuck me just like that daddy” She moaned letting out a loud exclamation before enveloping the Jey’s head, her fingers tangling in his hair.

As she felt the chill of Josh's Sliver chain against her skin, a sudden shiver ran down her spine, almost like a fine mist of tiny droplets suspended in the air. The sensation was so cold and sharp that it seemed to permeate her very being, filling her with a sense of awe and wonder.

"Mmm, quiet baby, my pussy's talkin' to me." he groaned in inside her ear as he inched his fingers deeper into her hole forcing his curved dick down deeper. He tightened his arms around her body with her leggings wrapping ever so tight around him.

He wanted her to feel him alllll the way and he was successful at it. The aggression and lust filled the air as thick as a paper cut.

“Yessss Joshua!”

“You love me?” Jey moaned hormonally in her ear before flicking his tongue alone her earlobe, leaving a few wet kisses on her exposed neck.

“Huh? I asked you a fucking question.” he repeated once more speeding up his pace a loud gasp escaped her mouth with her breath taken away by how hard he was going.

He was an animal in the sheet per say.

“Yes!” Chanel shrieked out, sending shivers of passion coursing through her body, leaving her utterly in rapture. Her eyes rolled back into the back of her head as she felt an overwhelming surge of ecstasy overwhelm every inch of her being. She screamed it again, reveling in the pleasure swarming her body, reveling in it all as she told him how much she loved him. Her voice was filled with pure emotion as she said those words.

It seemed that in this very moment all he thought about was Dakota, all he could see was her; her soft touch, her gentle embrace, the light and playful touches of her short, painted nails he had paid for. It was as if she was wrapped around him with a warm, inviting hug that made him forget all about his previous encounters with countless women.

“I love you too.” Josh grunted afterwards, as much as he didn’t mean it he just said it in the moment to satisfy her.

“Daddy I’m about to cum!”

“Fuck…Cum on my dick Dakota , cover my shit!” Jey harshly mumbled on cue, Chanel reacted quickly as Joshua attempted to make a nut on her, pushing him away before he could go any further. In the heat of the moment, she lashed out and smacked him hard across the face. "What the fuck, Jey?!" she exclaimed, feeling a mix of anger and confusion at the mention of someone else’s name. Dakotas name at that.

“What?”Jey's eyes widened in confusion as he held his face, staring back at Chanel as if she had gone mad. He wondered if he had been too rough with her, or if he had accidentally caused her some pain. Before he could even open his mouth to ask her, she quickly replied with a response of her own.

Chanel shot a fierce glare at Josh as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "You just called me another bitch's name, Josh," she said, her voice dripping with anger and hurt.

“No I didn’t.” he denied.

“Yes you did.” She throw back at him quickly “you literally said Dakota, Do I look like a fucking Dakota to you? No so don’t call me that bitch name.”Chanel warned before wrapping the cover around her bare naked body grabbing her things off the floor.

“Aye, don’t call her a b!tch!”, Jey warned, his eyes filled with dominance and authority as he glared at the woman. Though he didn’t care who Chanel was to him, he wasn’t going to let her disrespect Dakota in his presence. He made his point loud and clear, his tone firm and unmistaken as he commanded her not to call her by those words.

“You know what, fuck you Jey,” Chanel shot back, angrily grabbing her white tank top shirt and throwing it over her head, storming towards the hotel door. She took one last look at him before storming out, shooting him a disgusted look as she left.

“Fuck.” Josh sighed before picking up the cover from the floor along with his black Versace boxers putting them back on he grabbed his phone from the night stand trying to reach Dakota with a call.

“Come on pick up ko.” He pleaded watching as the phone went to voicemail once again he threw his phone against the carpet floor taking a seat on the edge bed kneeling his head down rubbing against his beard mixed with grey hairs.

He had hoped she wasn’t mad about what he had said a few day ago, because if she was he didn’t understand why when they both knew the consequences of the situation. She couldn’t fall in love with him and neither could he.

He knew that he wasn’t ready for another relationship due to the recent divorce he went through a year before. The idea of falling into another serious relationship and having it go wrong was something he couldn’t bear to go through again. The difference was, though, that Dakota wasn’t that type of woman , but yet he knew he was falling for her. He knew he was falling deep for her, but he couldn’t admit it to himself.

A loud thud could be heard coming from the room as the door slammed closed, and his twin brother Jimmy walked inside, asking, "Yo uce, was that Chanel I just saw?"

Sighing, he lifted his head up and looked at his twin brother, stating, "Yeah, man."

His eyes widening and lips curling with an utter look of dissatisfaction and disgust on his face, he spoke, “I thought you were done with her, Josh. Man, where the hell is Koko at?”

“Don’t tell me you fucked up Joshua?” Jimmy stopped in his tracks staring at his brother, when he didn’t answer he knew he had fucked up.

Sitting beside him on the bed he asked “So what you do this time?”

“Uce she got mad because I said I didn’t think we could ever be a couple outside of what we do together. I mean I don’t see myself with her she just sex to me.” Josh confessed, even though it was slightly true he was also lying through his teeth.

“Look.” Jonathan forewarned “Steve wonder could see you like that Girl and is falling hard for her so just admit that shit man.”

“I know you aren’t ready for another serious relationship after what happened with Ashley and you last year, but Josh,” Jonathan said to his brother, “I know you, and I can tell when you’re in love with someone, and I can tell you’re in love with Dakota.” Jonathan went on to explain, even though it seemed like everything he was saying was going in one ear and out the other. He had hoped his brother would listen to what he had to say.

“I can list so many things of how I know you failing for this girl Josh.”

“Go ahead because I promise you I’m not in love with Dakota she just sex to me I don’t know why you can’t get that through your big ass head.” He joked but was serious as well he didn’t understand why his brother didn’t get he wasn’t in love with her as much as he tried to tell himself that.

“Okay, first off, you never take any of your clients to shows, especially live or non live televised ones. You spoil her rotten, you get mad when another man is in her presence, but you so-called don’t like her. She’s all you talk about at work, “Oh, I wonder what Dakota’s doing,” or “I wonder will Dakota like this necklace I bought her.” I mean, I could go on.”

“Two, You buy her expensive gifts and constantly check up on her to see if she needs anything. You stay up all night to talk to her when you should be resting before a show. You check your phone constantly to see if she has texted or called you, and you get upset if she doesn’t respond immediately. You’re always thinking about her, and you go out of your way to make her happy.”

“Three, You check on her both mentally and emotionally, constantly being there for her when she needs someone to talk to. You reassure her when she’s feeling down or stressed-out, and you make sure she’s okay emotionally.”

As he took in everything his brother was saying, Josh realized that he was right. He indeed did everything that was listed, because he loved Dakota, but he was scared. He was scared that the relationship wouldn’t work, but more so, he feared that it would, which is why he had been fighting his deep feelings of love for her all this time. The more he thought about it, the more his fear grew, but the more the feeling of love grew in his heart as well.

Josh loved Dakota more than anything, but for reasons unknown even to himself, he couldn’t admit it. He couldn’t even fathom the possibility of loving someone so deeply. It was as if his heart was locked up in a cage, and only Dakota had the key to his heart's release. The fear in him, the fear of love, was as great as the love he felt for Dakota. The love that he couldn’t admit to himself. The love that he was desperately trying to ignore.

“Alright, alright, I get it, Jimmy” Jey dismissed his brother, waving him off completely as he ignored what he was saying.

“Man whatever hurry and get ready with your hot dick ass.” Jimmy got up from the bed and headed towards the door, saying, “You better be down there in five minutes, Josh, ‘cause I’m the big brother!” He shouted as he walked out of the hotel room.

“Man, shut up! You’re only nine minutes older than me,” Jey shouted back, rolling his eyes, “and you act like it’s nine years!”

As Josh sat in bed thinking back to what his brother said he started to wonder did he actually love Dakota?

Was he also in love?

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Dakota.Valentine

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Dakota.Valentine : A women irreplaceable

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“Dakota, you better be freaking ready by the time me and David get there!” Jasmine yelled into the phone during their FaceTime call with the two of them, her expression of annoyance clear on her face.

Dakota decided to go out with Jasmine and her boyfriend to a new club that had just opened up in Atlanta about a week ago called Club Pierce. It was now around 11:00 pm, but she was looking forward to the night out with her friends. She just needed to get ready, but the thought of the new club and what the night might hold filled her stomach with butterflies.

Dakota hadn't talked to Josh in a few days now, and honestly, she didn't really care to at all. Her feelings were completely bruised and broken, and she didn't know if they would ever have a chance together. As he had said, they were only having sex and nothing more, so she could do whatever she wanted. And she would, she told herself as she got ready to head to the new club.

“Girl fuck you and David I’m almost done.” Dakota rolled her eyes before she curled the last piece of her hair, sitting down and letting the flat irons cool off and unplugging them. She then threw the flat irons under the sink and grabbing her phone, grabbed her purse and headed for the door. She heard a faint knock at her door and stopped in her tracks. She wondered who was at the door.

“Who’s at your door, Kota?” Jasmine said worriedly with an expression, and Dakota responded, “I don’t know.”

"I’ll call you back, Jas," Dakota replied with a confused expression before she opened the door. Standing outside was Jey, holding flowers in his hands with pleading eyes.

Rolling her eyes, she tried to shut the door in Jey’s face, but he caught it with his foot, walking inside behind her. Taking one look back at her, he asked, “Ko, baby, please talk to me?”

Chuckling bitterly at the nickname he called her, Dakota quickly turned around with a frown on her face. “Baby?” She quickly fired back, “Last time I checked, I was your client, remember, or maybe you forgot because you were too busy fucking Chanel.”

Stunned by her new found attitude towards him Josh threw the flowers onto the ground shouting back “Dakota I ain’t fuck her!”

“Yes, you did, you ass hole. She sent me pictures of you asleep, Josh, and I know your big-ass head from anywhere!”

“Look ion even understand why you mad we’re just fucking , you’re my client just as much as she is Dakota.”

“Oh, you’re damn right, I am.” Dakota said, trying quickly to bust past Jey but he quickly pulled her back gently, turning her around to look into her eyes. “Ko, baby, why are you really mad at me?”

“Hmm? What did I do so bad? That hurt you because I apologize ma.” Josh confessed, caressing her cheek as her eyes filled with tears but she dared not let them fall and let him see her break.

“Nothing, don’t even worry about it, I have somewhere to be remember , I’m just a client.” She snarled, snatching her arm away from him, opening the door and walking out. “And lock my damn door!”

Club pierce

"Baby lemme rub, lemme rub on ya

Can I get a lil' love, lil' love from ya"

My body addictive it's driving him crazy

Think I got run from ya

The loud, catchy lyrics of Megan Thee Stallion’s song ‘Big Ole Freak’ blasted throughout the night club, the party atmosphere being illuminated by the bright, colorful lights flashing everywhere. Everything about the night club was dark but colorful, making the atmosphere exciting and dynamic.

Dakota was enjoying herself at the club, glad that she didn't have to deal with Jey for the moment since it had been two hours since she got there. The music and the party atmosphere was a good distraction from Jey, and she could just focus on enjoying herself and the club's environment.

And he wasn’t going to ruin her night.

Jasmine leaned over, shouting over the loud music to get Dakota's attention. “Koat! You want a drink?” Dakota nodded her head yes, and took the shot from Jasmine, downing it in one go. The shot burned down her throat, but she barely winced, seemingly used to the sensation.

To say the least she needed the drink to unwind tonight because it was simply fuck Jey.

Jasmine was shocked at how quickly Dakota took the shot down her throat. “Damn Kota, you okay?” she asked, her voice still having to be raised slightly to be heard over the loud music. Dakota didn't respond at first, seeming somewhat out of it. She then shook her head slightly, seemingly not quite ok but pretending she was fine.

“Come on let’s get up and dance on the floor! David get your ass up.” Dakota shocked excited grabbing jasmines hand leading her down to the dance floor.

The two of them danced together, having the time of their lives as they moved to the beat of the loud lyrics being played. Dakota twerked her ass on Jasmine as she cheered her on and snapped a video of them, having fun and making their own party. “Get it Kota! They ain’t fucking with you!” Jasmine cheered loudly over the music, seemingly having just as much fun as Dakota was.

After a while of dancing, the girls felt worn out and tired, so they decided to sit at the bar and take a few shots. Dakota noticed the bar tender looking at her and flirting with her, and she decided to flirt back a little, since she was single anyways."

“So this your first time here?” The bar tender asked Dakota, wiping up another drink for a customer.

Dakota sighed as she rested her hands on the bar, seeming a little tired from the whole dance session and the alcohol. She smiled as she spoke to the bar tender, “Yeah, very first time my bestie brought me and I’m glad she did because look who I met.” and was then met with his eyes seductively, which she then held. She liked the attention and the flirting, and was not even trying to be seductive. It just came naturally to her.

Dakota was naturally seductive without even trying. With her innocent eyes that were slightly lowered and her plump and big lips, she had the ability to rule guys without even thinking about it. Her seductive flirting came naturally to her, and it made her even more alluring to the bar tender.

Dakota was enjoying herself as she sat at the bar, seemingly having a nice conversation with the bar tender. However, Jasmine stepped up and tapped on her shoulder, pointing in the direction of a booth filled with a group of Samoan men. “Dakota isn’t that Jey?” One who Dakota recognized to be Jey. She turned around, and saw Jey and Chanel together in the flesh, and she immediately recognized Jey Fucking Uso. Her eyes then locked on his, and she stayed silent.

Dakota couldn't help but eye Jey from head to toe, taking in his fit in its entirety. He wore a gray, long-sleeved sweater that hugged his muscled arms tightly, and a gold chain also shining from the shirt. His white pants accompanied his white Air Forces, and he had one black cap on his head, turned slightly to the right side. His beard was also neatly groomed, and he just looked Sexy asf overall.

He looked damn good.

“Yeah that’s him, so.” Dakota spoke softly very unbothered turning back around to the bar tender continuing their conversation. “So what were you saying?”

The bar tender was seemingly puzzled at Dakota's nonchalance towards seeing Jey. 'Especially the fact he was his nephews favorite wrestler “You're not upset about seeing him here?' he questioned, since a lot of people would usually be upset about seeing an ex or just someone they knew. Dakota, however, seemed unbothered and just continued the conversation they had previously.

“Girl you and Jey need to talk like Frl. Jasmine sighed and rolled her eyes, seeming frustrated over the situation. She knew that Dakota would tend to be stubborn, and that they had this sort of status together. She also knew that they were just having casual sex, but she didn't really want to pick sides on the situation because she didn't want to put blame on either of them.

Jasmine walked away and went back to her date, David, shaking her head in disappointment. Meanwhile, she noticed that Jey was staring at Dakota, and she just rolled her eyes, knowing that the drama between them would continue. She then decided to walk up the stairs. “This gon be a long night.”

By now, it was 2 in the morning, but the group of people were still inside the club, not wanting to leave. It was clear that everyone was having a good time, and the music and drink kept everyone entertained for hours.

Jey watched Dakota closely as she danced with another man, grinding her ass back on him and throwing it all back. She did it all while she stared intently at him, like she was trying to get a reaction out of him. Jey knew that she was doing it on purpose to get a rise out of him, and it was working perfectly.

Nonetheless to say he was mad. Angry more like it.

Jeys' anger and jealousy burned through him as he saw Dakota dancing and grinding her ass back on that other man. He wanted to walk down there and punch him out for even looking her way and touching her, but he knew that there were too many eyes and ears inside the club that would get him fired and thrown on the shade room in seconds. So, he had to try and stay cool instead and try and contain his anger.

Jeys' drink tasted bitter as he looked at Dakota more, his eyes glued to her. Chanel kept attempting to get Jey's attention, but he paid her no mind on the floor and continued watching Dakota. The whole club seemed to be watching Dakota more than anything, so all attention was on her, rather than Chanel.

“I see you eyeing her , Damn she bad you know her?” His cousin Zilla asked sitting beside him drinking on a glass as well.

Jey spoke possessively and confidently about Dakota, like she was his girl and that there was no one else. "She's my girl, that's who she is.' he said in a cocky and confident voice, his bassy, low voice indicating the possessive dominance he had towards her. As well as not wanting to show much she meant to him he did.

Throwing his hands up in surrender he replied back “ oh my bad cous but go get your girl cause she dancing mighty hard on dude on the floor.” He joked while Jey glared at him. Jimmy then walked up to Jey and put his hand on his shoulder, signaling for him to look up. Jimmy's presence distracted Jey, and he glanced over at him. 'Yo man, what's good? Need something?" Jimmy asked, seemingly unaware of the tension between Jey and Dakota.

Jimmy looked over and realized where Jey's focus was, and the sight of Dakota dancing on another man. He let out a sigh and said 'Josh, if you don't take your ass down there and speak to that girl. You've been staring at her all night, uce, and she's probably wondering why.' He had a lighthearted tone when saying it, wanting to ease the tension and get Jey to go confront Dakota instead of stewing in his emotions.

Taking the initiative Jey got up from the seat without a word heading down to the dance floor he brushed past the crowd and a couple fans asking for pictures he pushed the man back harshly before gently grabbing Dakotas arm “Dakota come on we leaving.”

Dakota was caught off guard when she felt her arm being rudely grabbed by Jey without any warning whatsoever. She turned to look at him, her eyes narrowing slightly, feeling slightly frustrated by the way he grabbed her arm without taking into consideration how she felt.

Dakota had a pissed off look on her face as she yanked her arm back strongly, showing her disgust and frustration with what Jey did. She had had enough of his bullshit, and she was clearly done with him and all of his stupid games. "Jey, fuck you. I'm not going anywhere with you.” She shouted over the loud music, being loud enough for everyone around to hear her and stop talking, looking for the source of her yelling.

Jey had a look of dominance fall over his face as he glared back at Dakota, his gaze firm and full of conviction. He knew that he was able to overpower and get his way with her, and he showed no signs of relenting either. When he spoke to her, he did so with a firm and final tone, “Dakota if I repeat myself you gon make the shit you got coming worse then it already is.”

Dakota pouted as she let herself be dragged outside of the club, following behind him and following his lead despite the fact that she didn't want to. She was annoyed and angry at him, but she still followed him, likely because she knew he was stronger than her and that he could easily overpower her. When she got into the car, she didn't hold back. "You know what, Jey? Fuck you. I don't know what you're on, but take me the fuck home," she said harshly.

Sighing in frustration he closed the door and got inside the car ran to the other side he pulled off getting on the interstate.

Jey gripped the steering wheel with his left hand firmly while his right rested on Dakota’s ’inner thigh, squeezing here and there.

He could tell that he had her body feeling some kind of way because he felt her somewhat shivering under his touch. He licked his full lips before taking his eyes off of the road and glancing over at her. “Look ko, Im sorry aight? I ain’t m—.”

“Whatever Joshua .” She mumbled, cutting him off while leaning against the window. “It doesn’t even matter anymore.”

“It do though, cause now you mad at me and haven’t spoken to me.” Jey's tone suddenly became softer when he spoke about how she was obviously mad at him. He was still looking over at her, and his eyes seemed to be more gentle and caring than before. "I'm right, aren't I? You're mad at me, and you haven't spoken to me at all." He said softly and calmly, as though he wanted to have a civil conversation with her.

“I’m not mad.” She denied once more.

“So you ignorin’ my calls , texts, and missing my show twice is you not bein’ mad?”

“I just didn’t wanna talk to you Jey, damn!” She yelled and smacked his hand away from touching her, now irritated.

“Don’t be raisin’ yo gahdamn voice at me girl! I’m tryna tell yo ass what the fuck it was and you ain’t even tryna listen to what I gotta say!”

“Because I don’t care! Better yet, pull over and let me out! I’ll find my own way home, I’m not about to do this with you!”

She reached for the door handle but Jey had gripped the back of her neck tightly, forcing her back body to come back. “Yo ass ain’t goin’ no damn where!”

Dakota huffed and folded her arms across her chest for the rest of the ride. Minutes later, they were pulling up at what she she knew was Josh house. Just as she looked over at him to fuss about him not taking her home, he leaned over the middle console and smashed his lips on to hers.

She moaned softly into the kiss, placing her hands on either side of his face as he placed his right hand firmly around her neck. The kiss began to get heated once their tongues started having an all out war, causing Jey’s dick to stiffen in his jeans and Dakota’s pussy to become moist.

Their make out session was broken when Jey pulled away while still keeping his hand around her neck. “You gon’ let me fuck you Pretty mama?”

“J-Jeyyyy.” Dakota moaned as he pushed two of his fingers inside of her, curving them each he pulled them out.

She was laid out across the back seat of his red Rolls Royce, completely naked with her smooth legs wide open as josh gently flicked his tongue against it a few times before fully latching his mouth onto it, sucking feverishly while continuing to slide his fingers in and out of her.

Dakota gasped when she felt his fingers start move inside of her in a circular motion, pushing her closer to her orgasm.

Josh felt her walls tighten around his fingers and Dakota gripped onto his shoulder as she felt her stomach tightening up. “You cummin’ huh mama?”

“Oh my God, yesssss!” She shouted as she came hard, covering Jey’s handsome face with her sweet juices.

“You taste good as fuck.” Jey licked her completely clean before sitting up.

Seconds later, Dakota sat up as well and pulled Jey’s face to hers, starting up another kissing match, which Josh eventually took the lead in and won.

She climbed over onto his lap, placing her legs on either side of him as the kiss grew more and more intense. She reached under herself and started to unbuckle his pants to free his beyond hard curved dick, something that she had been yearning for.

Josh caught her drift and lifted his hips, sliding his pants down and kicking them off completely. He broke the kiss to get rid of his shirt as well, throwing it to the opposite side of them.

Dakota reached down and grabbed his thick length, placing him at her entrance then sliding down onto it slowly, causing them both to moan in unison from the newfound pleasure on both ends. He gripped her ass tightly, loving how her wet pussy felt around his dick.

She always fit around him, perfectly.

“Ohhh babbby.” She leaned her head back in ecstasy as he gripped her hips, massaging them as she rode him.

“It feel good ma?”

“Sooo good baby, fuck!” Dakota grabbed his face and kissed him hard. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and she sucked on it.

Jey cut the kiss and lifted her off of him, leaving only his tip in and slammed her back down on him hard.

“Waaait!” She screamed as he repeated his last action, obviously feeling too much pleasure.

“Ain’t no wait!” Josh began thrusting upwards at a faster pace, fucking her even harder.

Dakota felt yet another orgasm creeping up on her, causing her to grip onto his broad shoulders as he slapped her ass cheek. “Mhm, cum on this dick.”

And that’s exactly what she did, shaking violently as her juices began to flow out and down onto him.

Jey waiting a few seconds for her to come down from her high and then slid lifted her smaller frame off of him, placing her on the seat. “Turn around and get on all fours fa me baby.”

Dakota did as told and Jey then hovered over her, high key loving the view. He placed one of his large hands on her hips while using the other to stroke himself before finally pushing back into her deeply.

“Fuck man.” He grunted lowly, now finding a specific pace to stroke her.. slow.

She then started throwing it back a slightly faster than the pace he was going at, so he took the hint and sped up his strokes. He bit down on his bottom lip and closed his eyes, loving the way her pussy felt and the gushy sound it made as he repeatedly slammed into her.

“This my pussy Dakota ?” Jey asked before gripping her hair and bringing her head up.

“Yes Daddy, it’s yours!”

“Yeah?”

“Yesssss! Ohhh my fu— baby, I’m cumming!” Dakota moaned loudly, triggering Jey’s own nut that was now approaching.

“Hold that shit baby. I’ma cum with you, aight?” Jey told her and at that moment Dakota felt his dick throbbing inside of her.

“I— fuck josh!” She came and squirted, causing her juices to spray all over his lower half and push him completely out of her.

After needing a few seconds to calm down, Dakota pushed Jey back down onto the seat. She used her small hands to grip his dick that was covered in her juices and wrapped her lips around it. He held her hair as she rolled her tongue around on his tip a few times before swallowing him down completely, without gagging.

Jey’s head flew back against the headrest as he enjoying the feeling of her throating his whole length.

“Shit princess.”

“You a slut ass bitch huh?” He cheered on holding her hair gripping it with force. “Mmhm gimme that shit Dakota.”

Dakota came up for air and started massaging his balls with one hand and stroked him with the other, trying to milk him.

“Hold on Dakota, fuck!” josh growled out once he felt his dick twitching.

She placed her lips back on his throbbing tip and started sucking, which was all that was needed for his hips to start jerking and his warm load to shoot down her throat.

Dakota made sure that she sucked every last drop completely out of him before pulling back, claiming the spot on the opposite side of him.

Maybe they both were in love?

To be continued.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as well!

It was a roll coaster but it’s more to come but I promise next chapter will be better mostly romantic.

Comment any opinions on any of the characters or the overall of the chapter.

Till next time. Love you all thank you for tuning in!🎀