#like okay not my thing but good for you. love that for you

[creamflix]

IF I WAS A BAD BITCH, I'D WANNA F★CK ME TOO!  ၄၃   gojo satoru x female reader x (female?!) gojo satoru 

18+ content, minors and blank blogs do not interact. established relationship. threesome featuring m & f gojo. dom! gojo(s), sub reader. bisexual reader. slight cnc/dubcon. marathon sex. fingering. voyeurism + cucking. spanking. humping. finger-sucking. the big three: praise, humiliation and degradation. jealousy-fueled and dare i say competitive sex. oral (f. giving & receiving, m. giving and receiving). p in v, creampies. hair-pulling. clit slapping. overstimulation, mind break. doggy (backshots woohoo!), chain link, tower bridge. lots of aftercare and a happy + crack ending (thank you flix)

happy (early) birthday to the honoured dick one. the strongest in bed. i know his birthday is in december but i needed u all to read this right now. so enjoy nine thousand three hundered words of filth, from me to you, with all the love possible <3. i wrote female gojo with @/owwllly's version in mind, so please show them your love xx this has been my fav threesome fic to write!! dedicated to my pookie daph aka @curtins - there will be a part two !! there will be a part two !! there will be a part two !!

— general masterlist ☆ read on ao3 ☆ series masterlist

"so you're telling me... this happened because you couldn’t mind your business?" you deadpan, arms crossed as you stare at two very identical gojo satoru’s in your living room. one of them is busy fiddling with infinity while the other is lounging on your couch like she owns the place — wolfcut, tight black turtleneck, and a smirk that could rival the original's arrogance.

“technically, i was minding my business,” the og gojo protests, leaning back against the wall with his usual, unbothered grin. “baby, ’s not my fault the curse decided to spice things up and give you, like, a bogo deal on me. you're welcome, by the way."

"bogo?" you repeat, staring at him blankly. "buy one, get one? 'toru, this isn’t a trip to the mall — this is a problem."

“problem?!” the female gojo pipes up, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. “babe, this is a blessing. look at me — don’t i just scream perfection?” she runs her hands dramatically down her torso, pausing to cup her very impressive pair of tits. “and these? way better than whatever he’s working with.”

“hey!” the og gojo snaps, looking genuinely offended for once. “my pecs are great! they’re sculpted by gods!”

“oh please.” she waves him off, smirking. “you can bench press all ya want, but nothin' competes with these.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache brewing. “great. now there’s two of you and you’re already competing with each other. this is exactly what my therapist warned me about.”

"your therapist doesn’t even know her," og gojo interjects, before muttering, "probably thinks i'm better."

“knows me?” the female gojo raises a brow, mimicking his exact tone. “honey, i am you — just hotter and with better hair.”

“oh, please, my hair is iconic —”

“only ‘cuz i have it now —”

“okay, shut up, both of you,” you groan, cutting through their bickering. “are we just ignoring the fact that this situation is insane? one of you is going to have to fix this. preferably him,” you gesture to your boyfriend, “because i’m sure as hell not trusting the version of you who discovered boobs for the first time an hour ago.”

"that’s fair,” female gojo shrugs. “i got distracted for a good ten minutes.”

“ten?” og gojo snorts. “please, i bet you’re still distracted.”

“better than looking like an overgrown snow cone —”

“that’s it!” you snap, cutting them off again. “you’re both sleeping on the floor until this gets fixed!”

they stare at you, identical smirks creeping onto their faces. the synchronization is downright creepy.

“what?” you snap.

“you mean we can’t sleep next to you?” female gojo teases, batting her eyelashes dramatically. “oh, baabbyy, don’t be like that. we’ll make it work. one on each side, warm and cozy…”

“dream on!” you yell, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at both of them.

despite your protests, you eventually settle into bed, burying yourself under the covers in hopes that sleep will somehow make this bizarre situation feel a little less insane in the morning. your boyfriend is sulking on the couch — he’s got that kicked puppy look down to a science, complete with dramatic sighs and pointed glances your way every time he fluffs the pillow. you ignore him. you deserve this break.

or at least, you thought you did.

the bed dips behind you, and you freeze, already knowing who it is before she even opens her mouth.

“hey,” female gojo whispers conspiratorially, her voice a softer, almost sultry version of your boyfriend’s usual annoying tone. “girl’s night, right? let’s talk about feelings and, like… skincare or whatever. isn’t that what girls do?”

“go back to the couch,” you mutter, trying not to sound as mortified as you feel.

“oh, come onnn,” she presses, shifting closer. “i’m technically you now. you, me, and him — we’re a team. solidarity and alla that.”

“team or not, you’re still satoru,” you grumble, rolling over to glare at her. “and you’re supposed to be fixing this, not playing barbie dreamhouse with my sanity.”

she gasps, clutching her chest as though you’d just gravely insulted her. “barbie dreamhouse? wow, honey, that’s just rude.”

you sigh, already exhausted, and roll back over, resolutely closing your eyes. “goodnight.”

except she doesn’t leave.

instead, she shuffles even closer, slipping under the covers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“what the hell are you doing?” you ask, voice muffled by your pillow.

“it’s called cuddling. girlhood, babe. embrace it.”

you groan, but it’s drowned out by the warmth of her pressing against your back, her arm draping over your waist like she’s done this a hundred times before. the touch is familiar — too familiar — but also distinctly… different. softer, almost delicate, but with that same satoru confidence you’ve grown used to.

you’re about to relax when — oh.

oh no.

that’s definitely her tits pressing against you.

“seriously?” you mutter, feeling your face heat up as you shift uncomfortably.

“what?” she hums innocently, though you can practically hear the smirk in her tone. “they’re natural, by the way. in case you were wondering.”

you roll your eyes so hard they might fall out of your head. “get off me.”

“nah. you’re comfy.”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“you love it,” she whispers, cuddling closer, her breath warm against the back of your neck.

meanwhile, from the couch, your boyfriend groans dramatically. “wooww, guess i’m not needed anymore! don’t mind me, just a lonely man being replaced by his better half!”

you groan louder this time, burying your face in the pillow. “i hate both of you.”

“you’ll get over it,” female gojo chirps.

you’re not so sure.

you drift into a restless sleep, but it’s not long before something — someone — pulls you back into a groggy haze. at first, you think it’s just the weight of her arm slung over your waist, the kind of innocent touch you’ve grown used to from satoru, only now softer, smaller. 

but then you feel it: nimble fingers ghosting the waistband of your shorts, brushing against your skin with maddening lightness.

your eyes snap open, and before you can twist around, you hear her chuckle — a low, almost predatory sound.

"eaasy, babe," she whispers, her breath hot against your ear as she burrows closer, her chest flush against your back. "don’t wanna wake him, do you?"

your heart skips a beat, half from the sensation of her lips brushing the shell of your ear, half from the realization that your boyfriend is right down the hallway.

“what the hell are you doing?” you hiss, your voice barely audible, but it only makes her grin wider. you can’t see it, but you can feel it in the way her teeth graze your neck, her nose nuzzling against your skin.

“just havin’ a little fun,” she murmurs, her fingers dipping slightly lower, teasing. "you’re sooo uptight. ’s cute."

“stop,” you whisper, though your voice lacks the conviction you wish it had. you’re painfully aware of every point of contact — her fingers, her chest pressed against you, the way her legs tangle with yours like she’s been doing this forever.

“oh, come on,” she purrs, lips trailing a featherlight path up your neck. “you can pretend to hate this allll ya want, but she’s kinda telling a different story, babe.”

your breath catches as her fingers toy with the waistband of your panties, and you bite your lip to stifle a sound that’s somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

“shhhhh,” she teases, her voice dripping with amusement. “don’t wanna wake him. imagine the tantrum he’d throw.”

“'toru,” you snap in a whisper, barely managing to keep your voice steady, “you’re impossible.”

“she is impossible,” she corrects smugly, emphasizing the distinction. “and you love it.”

you squirm, trying to shift away, but it only earns you a low chuckle and a firmer hold around your waist.

“relax,” she coos, her fingers retreating just enough to drive you insane. “’m just here to keep ya company. whether that means getting a rise out of you or, y’know... edgin’ this pretty lil’ pussy for the rest of the night? your call.”

you swallow hard, caught between indignation and the way her touch sets your nerves on fire.

“make your choice, babe,” she whispers, her voice playful but laced with a dangerous edge.

“just try not to moan too loud. wouldn’t wanna give him ideas.”

you close your eyes, torn between cursing her and praying she doesn’t stop.

this night just got so much longer.

your brain is waging the ultimate war, a full-on battlefield of ethics versus… whatever this situation even is.

is it cheating if it’s your boyfriend’s hot female counterpart? technically, it’s still satoru, right? like, some weird multiverse loophole you could maybe rationalize later when guilt comes knocking. 

but right now, the only thing knocking is your resolve, which is hanging by a thread as those nimble fingers dance along your clothed slit, teasing just enough to drive you to madness.

you bite down on your lip, a mix of frustration and need building as she leans in closer, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "you’re thinkin’ so loud, honey. wanna share with the class?”

“shut up,” you hiss, squirming as her fingers dip a little lower, just brushing the edge of your clothed clit.

she laughs softly, the sound rich and teasing, as if she’s enjoying how much you’re struggling. “ohhh, ya gonna give in, aren’t cha?” she murmurs, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “ya so cute when you’re pretending to resist.”

your breathing hitches as she presses her palm against your clothed cunt, her fingers tracing delicate, torturous circles. it’s enough to make you curse the heavens for whatever cursed logic landed you here but also enough to make you moan softly despite yourself.

“fuck it,” you mutter under your breath, the words more to yourself than to her, and you stop fighting, letting her fingers dip inside your panties.

her grin is unmistakable — so much like satoru’s but with an edge of mischief that’s uniquely her own. “there she is,” she whispers, and her fingers find your clit, circling it with the kind of precision that makes your whole body tense.

“jesus christ,” you gasp, your hand shooting out to grip the sheets as she keeps her pace slow, deliberate, almost cruel in its teasing.

“nah,” she chuckles, her lips brushing against your neck, “just satoru. but you can scream my name later if ya want.”

you stifle a groan, your mind racing between indignation and the hot, electric sensation pooling low in your stomach.

“careful,” she teases, voice low and smug. “wouldn’t wanna wake him, would you? unless…” she pauses, fingers pressing a little harder, “...you want him to watch.”

you choke on a mix of a gasp and a protest, twisting slightly to glare at her, but the sharp look you’re going for is lost in the haze of heat clouding your brain.

“you’re the worst,” you manage to whisper, though it lacks any real bite.

“and yet, here you are,” she hums, pressing a kiss to the corner of your jaw. “enjoying every second of it.”

she’s not wrong, and that realization alone might kill you.

you never thought you’d find yourself in a situation like this — not that you were opposed to the idea. women were great, truly a gift to the world.

but how many people could say they were being finger fucked by their boyfriend’s female counterpart? it was such a specific, cursedly unique predicament that you almost wanted to laugh.

almost.

if you weren’t too busy biting back a moan as her fingers worked you with an infuriating rhythm.

the obscene sounds were soft, but in the quiet of the room, they echoed like a symphony of sins you’d be reckoning with later. and when her other hand pressed against your lips, fingers tapping lightly, you didn’t even hesitate.

you took them into your mouth, sucking with enough fervor to have her humming appreciatively behind you.

“oh, you’re full of surprises,” she purred, her tone dripping with amusement. her nails — surprisingly manicured and oddly elegant — scraped against your tongue, and you felt a shiver crawl down your spine. “never took ya for someone with an oral fixation. should i be jealous of him?”

you glared up at her weakly, but it only made her grin grow wider.

“no need to get all pouty, baby,” she teased, pulling her hand away with a wet pop! before dragging her nails down the side of your face in mock affection. “you’re already givin' me plenty of attention.”

“you’re so full of yourself,” you muttered, your voice muffled by a moan as her fingers curled inside you just right, hitting a spot that made your legs tremble.

“and yet, here you are,” she countered smugly, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “suckin' my fingers like you’re starved for it. but don’t worry pretty, i’ve got plenty to give.”

“oh my god,” you groaned, torn between mortification and the unbearable heat flooding your veins.

“close enough,” she chuckled, her lips brushing against your ear as her fingers continued their relentless, torturous pace. “but you can scream that louder later. just remember to keep it down for him, yeah? wouldn’t wanna give him a heart attack.”

as if on cue, you heard your boyfriend shift on the couch down the hallway, groaning in his sleep.

her grin pressed against your skin, smug as ever. “looks like we’re on a time limit. better make it count, babe.”

it’s almost like she wants to be caught.

you can feel it in the deliberate pace of her fingers, the smug curl of her lips pressed against your ear, and the way her voice dips just low enough to make you think she’s daring him to walk in.

what’s he gonna do, anyway? accuse you of cheating? on him?

with him?

the thought’s absurd, hilarious even, if not for the way your brain is too scrambled to dwell on it.

“you’re so tense,” she purrs, her tone that perfect mix of teasing and filth, her fingers quickening their pace with a precision that’s downright sinful. “relax, ma. you’re doing so well f’me.”

“sh-shut up,” you hiss, though it lacks conviction, your voice shaky and edged with desperation. the familiar, blinding heat in your stomach coils tighter, threatening to snap as her movements grow more deliberate.

but she doesn’t shut up — of course, she doesn’t.

“awww, don’t get shy on me now,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your ear as her lips ghost along your jawline. her words spill out like poison dipped in honey, filthy and deliberate.

“you’re sooo close, aren’t ya? can feel it, babe. you’re twitching around my fingers. think you’ll cum before he wakes up?”

you choke on a whimper, your head spinning as her words sink deep into your hazy mind. the wet, obscene shlick, shlick sounds of her fingers working you only makes it worse, the sound bouncing off the walls and mocking any remaining shred of dignity you have left.

“don’t fight it,” she coos, nipping lightly at your earlobe. “you wanna cum sooo bad. just do it, babe. be a good girl for me.”

the knot in your stomach pulls impossibly tight, her voice the final push as she angles her fingers just right, and you’re gone.

you tremble, your hands gripping the sheets like a lifeline as your release crashes through you in waves so intense that you’re outright whimpering. the sound spills out before you can bite it back, and she takes full advantage, her fingers slowing just enough to draw it out, prolonging your undoing.

“thaaat’s it,” she hums, satisfaction dripping from her voice. “good girl.”

you gasp for air, your body slack against hers as she finally pulls her hand away, leaving you boneless and dazed.

“see?” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple, her tone still annoyingly smug. “told ya'd like it.”

before you can snap back, you hear a groan from the hallway — your boyfriend stirring on the couch.

“oops,” she whispers, her voice featherlight but laced with mischief as she leans closer to your ear. “think he heard that?”

⋆˙⟡ —

gojo was not having it.

being sentenced to the couch while he — or she — got to hog your warmth? outrageous.

what kind of half-assed excuse was "girl’s night" anyway? he was the epitome of versatility! gender fluidity incarnate! hell, he’d rock a pair of heels better than most and still kick ass.

he rolled onto his back with a huff, staring at the ceiling and debating his next move.

screw it. he wasn’t about to let himself — herself — win. this was his girlfriend, damn it.

with a frustrated groan, he dragged himself off the couch, trudging down the hallway. barefoot and irritated, he rehearsed what he’d say as he barged in, fully intent on dragging her ass out and reclaiming his rightful spot in your bed.

but the second he opened the door, all those thoughts evaporated.

his jaw dropped, his cerulean eyes widening behind the curtain of his disheveled hair.

there you were, his sweet, pliant girlfriend, lying there with your head tilted back, cheeks flushed, and lips wrapped around fem gojo’s fingers.

and the smell — fuck, the smell of you hung thick in the air, so sweet and heady it made his knees damn near buckle. it hit him like a freight train, and with it came a mix of emotions he couldn’t even begin to untangle: shock, irritation, a twinge of jealousy, and, much to his own annoyance, arousal.

“are you serious right now?” his voice rang out, low and sharp, cutting through the quiet of the room.

you froze, your eyes snapping open as you turned to look at him. fem gojo, on the other hand, smirked, her fingers lazily slipping out of your mouth with an exaggerated pop!

“oh, hey,” she drawled, utterly unbothered by his presence. “took ya long enough.”

“what the hell is this?” he gestured vaguely at the two of you, his gaze bouncing between your guilty expression and her smug one.

“girl’s night,” she said matter-of-factly, her tone so casual it made his eye twitch.

“girl’s night?” he repeated, his voice climbing an octave. “girl’s night doesn’t include —” he waved his hands, “ —whatever this is!”

“reelaxx, dude,” she cooed, sitting up slightly but still keeping one possessive hand on your thigh. “you’re overreacting.”

“overreacting?!”

you flinched at his tone, but she didn’t budge, only grinning wider.

“jealous, are we?” she teased, leaning back into the pillows like she owned the place. “don’t worry, there’s plenty of her to go around.”

his jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “you think this is funny?”

“a little,” she admitted, cocking her head. “but it’s fun when you’re mad.”

he stormed over to the bed, yanking the covers off with dramatic flair.

“get out,” he demanded, pointing toward the door.

“make me,” she challenged, her grin growing downright wicked.

oh, that was it.

“fine,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. “you wanna play games? let’s play.”

in one swift motion, he was crawling onto the bed, caging both of you in with his presence. his gaze flicked to you, burning and possessive, before turning back to her.

“you started this,” he growled, “so you better keep up.”

she raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “oh, i’ll keep up.”

you swallowed hard, caught between their clashing egos and the growing heat simmering between the three of you.

this was about to get very interesting.

his hand clamps around your neck before you can even register what’s happening, yanking you into his lap like you weigh nothing. the surprised squeal that escapes your lips is muffled instantly as his mouth crashes onto yours in a kiss so sloppy, so overwhelming, it leaves you gasping. his tongue dominates yours, hot and unrelenting, and you barely have time to catch your breath before he pulls away, his next words like a slap to your dignity.

“you’re such a fuckin' mess,” he growls, his free hand coming down sharply on your ass with a loud smack!, the sting sends a jolt through you, and your body involuntarily arches against him. “lettin' her get her hands allll over you like a desperate little slut.”

you whimper, the sound earning a low, derisive laugh from him as he lands another smack!, his hand squeezing the soft flesh just to watch it jiggle.

“you like that, huh?” he sneers, his grip tightening around your neck just enough to make your head spin. “bet you’re fuckin' soaked, aren’t cha? letting anyone who’ll touch you have a go. pathetic.”

“not anyone,” fem gojo pipes up from her spot on the bed, her voice laced with amusement. “just me. well, technically you. so you’ve only got yourself to blame, babe.”

he shoots her a glare, his lips curling into a snarl, but she doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. in fact, she looks downright entertained, one hand lazily palming her tits through her shirt, her grin smug as she watches the scene unfold.

“don’t mind me,” she says, her tone light and teasing. “’m just enjoyin' the view. gotta say, though, you’ve got good taste.”

you shudder at the low hum in her voice, your face burning as her gaze flicks to where your body presses against his, her smirk deepening.

“shut up,” he snaps, his hand sliding down to your hip to yank you harder against him. “this is my show now.”

“oh, by all means,” she chuckles, leaning back on her elbows as her fingers toy her nipples. “don’t let me stop you. though, technically, this is still me giving her what she wants.”

he growls, his grip on you tightening as he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes narrowing. “you’re mine,” he hisses, the words like a brand against your skin. “doesn’t matter what fucking form i’m in. you get that?”

you nod weakly, your body trembling as his other hand lands another sharp smack! to your ass, drawing a coo of delight from his female counterpart.

“good,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours before claiming them again, rough and punishing.

“now, let’s see if you can prove it.”

“oh, this is getting good,” fem gojo says with a delighted laugh, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she settles in to watch the show — completely unbothered and clearly relishing every second of it.

⋆˙⟡ —

you’re losing it. outright losing it.

it was bad enough when gojo insisted on doing you in front of the mirror, forcing you to watch as he destroyed every last shred of your dignity.

but this? this was next level.

having someone else watch — and not just anyone, but the female version of him, sitting there with that same smug smirk plastered across her face as she enjoyed the show — this wasn’t on your bingo card for the year.

and yet, you couldn’t lie to yourself. the heat pooling between your legs was unmistakable, your slick soaking through the fabric of your panties and seeping onto his clothed crotch. the mess you were making was evident, each grind against him creating an obscene wet sound that seemed to echo in the room.

“oh, babe,” fem gojo moaned, her head tilting back as her hands finally slid under her shirt, teasing the plush swell of her chest. “are ya sure you’re not doin' this f'me? ‘cause this is better than any mirror show.”

“shut it,” male gojo snapped, his lips pulling away from yours, a string of spit connecting you as he shot her a glare. “you’re lucky i haven’t kicked your ass out yet.”

“please,” she purred, rolling her nipples between her fingers with a soft moan, her smirk growing wider. “you’re not kicking me out of anything. besides —” her gaze flicked to you, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, “ — she doesn’t seem to mind me being here. do you, pretty?”

you whimpered, the humiliation and arousal swirling together in a heady cocktail that made it impossible to think straight.

“answer her,” male gojo growled, his hand sliding down to grab your ass, forcing you to grind harder against him. “or are you too dumb to use your words?”

“i — i —” your voice broke into a soft moan, your hands clutching his shoulders for support as you buried your face in his neck, unable to meet her eyes.

“look at you,” she cooed, her voice dripping with amusement. “such a good girl, falling apart like that. and here i thought you were the composed one.”

“don’t get used to it,” male gojo bit out, yanking you back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark and commanding. “you’re mine, got it? doesn’t matter if it’s her or me watching. you’re still only ever gonna fall apart for me.”

“you’re so possessive,” fem gojo teased, her voice laced with mockery as her hands continued their lazy exploration under her shirt. “'s cute, honestly. but you can’t deny it’s a little hot watching her fall apart like that.”

“you really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” he snapped, but the irritation in his voice was edged with something else, something darker, like her words were getting to him too.

“oh, i know when,” she said with a sultry grin, her fingers tweaking her nipples with a sharp intake of breath. “but where’s the fun in that?”

you gasped as his hips jerked up against you, the friction sending another wave of heat through your already overstimulated body.

“don’t get any ideas,” he growled, his attention snapping back to you, his grip tightening on your hips. “you’re not done until i say you are.”

“god,” fem gojo moaned softly, her hands sliding down her cunt as she watched you both. “if this is how you treat her in front of me, i can’t imagine what you’re like when you’ve got her all to yourself.”

her words only seemed to spur him on, his lips crashing into yours again, his teeth nipping at your lower lip before he pulled away just enough to whisper against your mouth.

“don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “we’ll make sure she knows exactly what it feels like to belong to both of us.”

the promise in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and the look in fem gojo’s eyes made it clear she had no intention of being a passive observer for long.

clothes hit the floor — or in your case, were outright shredded by your boyfriend’s impatient hands. the sound of ripping fabric and your startled gasp barely registered over the muffled curses coming from fem gojo, who was too distracted fumbling with her own shirt, her needy arousal making her hands clumsy.

“damn it,” she muttered under her breath, finally managing to toss her shirt aside. “you’d think i’d be good at undressing myself by now.”

“could’ve fooled me,” male gojo quipped with a sharp grin, not even glancing her way as he manhandled you into position. “i could’ve stripped you in two seconds flat.”

“yeah, yeah,” she shot back, rolling her eyes as her shorts hit the floor. “maybe i wanted to take my time.”

he didn’t reply. instead, his hands clamped down on your waist, and before you could even process what was happening, you found yourself being flung off his lap. you landed on your stomach, a surprised cry escaping your lips as your face ended up inches away from fem gojo’s already glistening cunt.

the sweet, heady scent of her arousal flooded your senses, making your head spin.

“oh?” she cooed, leaning back on her elbows and spreading her legs a little wider, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “is this your way of apologizing? putting her in prime position f'me?”

“shut up,” male gojo snapped, his voice sharp as his hands gripped your hips again, pulling them up so your ass was in the air. “she’s here to learn who she belongs to.”

“sure,” fem gojo said, clearly unconvinced as her fingers trailed teasingly along the inside of her thighs. “and if she just so happens to learn how to make me feel good in the process, well, that’s just a bonus, hm?”

you whimpered, your mind spinning as you tried to ground yourself, but the sharp snap of your boyfriend’s hips against you derailed every coherent thought.

“what’s wrong, sweetheart?” he hissed, his pace unrelenting as he pounded into you from behind. “ya so quiet now. where’s all that pretty whinin' you were doing earlier?”

“h-her mouth’s busy,” fem gojo chimed in with a laugh, her hand sliding into your hair to guide your face closer to her. “or at least, it should be. come on, ma. show me what ya got.”

you hesitated, your face burning with a mix of humiliation and arousal, but a sharp smack! on your ass from male gojo left you gasping.

“don’t keep her waiting,” he growled, jealousy dripping from every word as his nails dug into your skin. “you were so eager to let her touch you before. let’s see how you like being used.”

“god,” fem gojo moaned softly as your tongue tentatively flicked over her slick folds, the taste of her flooding your senses. “she’s so good, isn’t she?”

he scoffed, his thrusts growing harsher, each one making your body jolt forward against her. “she’s good because i made her that way,” he bit out, his voice low and possessive. “don’t forget who she comes back to every night.”

“we’ll see about that,” she teased, her fingers tightening in your hair as her hips rolled against your mouth. “if she keeps this up, she might be spending a few more nights with me instead.”

“over my dead body,” he snarled, his hand reaching around to toy with your clit, the rough circles of his fingers sending shockwaves through your body.

you whimpered against her, the vibrations drawing a shuddering gasp from her lips.

“oh, fuck,” she moaned, her head tilting back as her free hand slid up to tweak her nipple. “you’re gonna make me cum, babe. keep goin' —don’t stop.”

male gojo’s hand tightened on your hip, his rhythm faltering slightly as he let out a low, guttural growl.

“she’s not coming for you,” he spat, leaning down until his chest was flush against your back, his breath hot against your ear. “she’s coming because of me.”

“whatever you need to tell yourself,” fem gojo panted, her voice laced with amusement and ecstasy as her hips bucked against your face. “but we both know who she’s really falling apart for right now.”

your thoughts were spiraling. absolutely spiraling.

how the hell were you supposed to explain this?

my boyfriend’s giving me the most insane backshots of my life while i’m eating out the female version of him.

except… she wasn’t just “him” anymore. she was her, right? so does that make her your girlfriend? was it cheating? was it some weird alternate-universe poly thing?

“ugh, no time to think,” you muttered under your breath, your words muffled as you dragged your tongue along fem gojo’s slit.

“what’s that, sweetheart?” fem gojo purred, her hand tightening in your hair as her thighs quivered under your grip. “don’t stop on my account. you’re doing so good.”

“oh, don’t stroke her ego,” male gojo snapped, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that had your entire body jolting forward, your face pressing impossibly closer to fem gojo’s dripping cunt. “she’s not that good yet.”

“jealous much?” fem gojo teased, her voice lilting and smug as she rolled her hips against your mouth. “she’s got me riiight on the edge, babe. maybe you should let her focus instead of barking orders like you’re the only one who matters here.”

“focus?” he sneered, leaning down until his chest was pressed against your back, his breath hot against your ear. “she’s too busy falling apart to focus. look at her — her hands are shaking.”

you whimpered at his words, your hands trembling as you tried your best to keep fem gojo’s thighs spread wide.

“awwww, baby,” she cooed, her fingers stroking your hair gently, a stark contrast to the vulgar praise spilling from her lips. “don’t listen to him. you’re doing amazing. so eager, so pliant — just like i knew you’d be.”

“pliant, huh?” male gojo growled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “is that what you think this is? you think she’s here for you?”

“she’s here for both of us,” fem gojo shot back, her smirk widening as she tugged your hair, forcing you to look up at her. “right, babe? tell him how much you like making me feel good.”

you tried to answer, but the words were swallowed up by a moan as male gojo’s hand snaked around to rub tight, merciless circles against your clit.

“she doesn’t have to say anything,” he said, his voice low and dark, laced with jealousy. “her body’s doing allll the talkin'. look at the mess she’s making.”

“maybe that’s because you’re being so rough,” fem gojo said, rolling her eyes even as her thighs trembled against your face.

“or maybe —” her voice dropped, dripping with faux sweetness as her smirk turned wicked, “ — it’s 'cause she likes me better.”

that set him off.

with a low, guttural growl, he pulled you back sharply, forcing you to arch against him as he slammed into you with a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“say it,” he demanded, his voice rough as his fingers dug into your hips. “tell her who you belong to.”

“oh, don’t make her choose,” fem gojo said, her tone mockingly sweet. “she’s doin' so well for both of us. aren’t cha, babe?”

you whimpered, your mind too clouded with pleasure to form a coherent response, and she laughed, low and sultry, her fingers sliding along your jaw to tilt your slick-covered face up.

“poor thing,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your ear. “don’t worry. you don’t have to pick. we’ll just take turns.”

male gojo’s hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back to meet his blazing gaze.

“no,” he growled, his jealousy boiling over as his hips snapped against yours. “she’s mine.”

“ours,” fem gojo corrected, her voice smug as she ran her tongue along your flushed cheek, laughing when he snarled in response.

“dream on,” he spat, his possessiveness evident in every word, every movement, every sharp thrust.

and you? you were somewhere in the middle of it all, lost in the overwhelming heat of them, the push and pull of their jealousy, their praise, their relentless need to claim you.

⋆˙⟡ —

the room at two in the morning was a symphony of chaos and filth, the soundtrack of your life choices. gojo’s low muttering against his breath, some mix of cocky praise and jealous snarling, occasionally punctuated with a sharp smack! to your ass. your muffled whimpers and gasps as your face stayed buried between fem gojo’s legs, and her breathy, high-pitched praises as she tugged on your hair like she owned you.

“thaaat’s it, babe,” fem gojo cooed, her fingers tightening in your hair. “s'good f'me, aren’t cha? suuccch a good girl.”

wait, hold on. fem gojo pulling your hair? wasn’t that supposed to be a boyfriend gojo thing?

before your brain could unravel that disturbing yet arousing conundrum, she yanked hard, pulling your face impossibly closer. your nose pressed rudely against her clit, and the sudden pressure had her legs trembling around your head.

“oh — fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whimpered, her usually smug voice cracking as her hips bucked involuntarily.

and then it happened.

you barely had time to process her thighs clamping down around your ears, muffling everything but the obscene sounds of her unraveling. warm liquid gushed against your lips, your chin, even dribbling down your neck, as fem gojo outright squirted.

“oh my god,” you thought, frozen in shock even as your boyfriend’s hips snapped sharply into yours again, jarring you forward for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

“holy shit,” male gojo muttered, his voice equal parts awe and irritation as he caught sight of his counterpart’s unrestrained climax. “you fuckin' squirted? that’s my thing!”

fem gojo, still coming down from her high, let out a breathless laugh, her legs falling limp as she sprawled back on the bed.

“looks like your girl’s a fast learner,” she teased, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath.

“learner, my ass,” he shot back, a sharp thrust making you moan against fem gojo’s overstimulated folds. “i trained her to be this good.”

“uh-huh,” fem gojo drawled lazily, running a hand through her sweat-dampened hair. “then why’d she just make me squirt first? sounds like she’s got a natural talent you couldn’t teach.”

“shut up,” he growled, his pace picking up as he slammed into you harder, clearly trying to reassert dominance.

you, meanwhile, were somewhere between mortification and pride.

first time eating someone out, and they squirted. that was definitely going on the mental highlight reel of your life — even if it was your boyfriend’s female counterpart.

you figured you might as well keep going with fem gojo. after all, your boyfriend had the stamina of a goddamn bull and a petty streak longer than your to-do list. no way he was letting you off easy after everything tonight.

lucky you, though — he’d also trained you well enough to cum at the same time as him. how lovely.

…ignoring the fact that your current position was utterly humiliating. your back arched up so prettily, your face now smooshed between fem gojo’s outrageously, illegally hot rack.

“suck,” she demanded, her voice dripping with the same playful authority you usually heard from your boyfriend, but with a distinctly feminine lilt that had you shivering.

“oh, don’t act like you’re in charge,” gojo snapped from behind you, his thrusts growing sharper as if to punctuate his annoyance. “you’re just here for the ride.”

“and you’re here throwing a tantrum,” fem gojo shot back, her smirk evident in her tone as her hands pressed you deeper into her chest. “you’re the one that left her unsupervised.”

you barely registered their bickering. your head was swimming, lost in the overwhelming heat of fem gojo’s body and the relentless rhythm of your boyfriend behind you. your tongue flicked over her hardened nipple, drawing a satisfied gasp from her lips as she arched into you.

“good giirrl,” fem gojo purred, her fingers threading through your hair again, keeping your face buried against her. “you’re learning so fast.”

“don’t praise her for that!” gojo barked, his voice tinged with frustration even as he groaned, his hips snapping against yours. “she’s mine, not yours, so quit actin' like ya got a claim on her!”

“if she’s yours, then why’s she so eager to listen to me?” fem gojo teased, her breath hitching as your tongue swirled around her sensitive nipple.

“you wanna see who she listens to?” he growled, leaning over you as his hand snaked around your waist, his fingers circling your clit in quick, punishing strokes.

that did it. the tension coiling low in your stomach snapped, and you came with a muffled cry against fem gojo’s chest, your whole body trembling as pleasure washed over you.

at the same time, gojo’s hips stuttered against yours, his grip tightening as he groaned through gritted teeth, spilling into you with one last deep thrust.

the room fell silent except for your ragged breathing and fem gojo’s low chuckle as she trailed her fingers through your hair.

“aww,” she cooed, her voice dripping with amusement. “looks like we both won, huh?”

“we?” gojo barked, glaring at her over your back. “you’re lucky i didn’t kick your ass out of this bed halfway through.”

“lucky?” she repeated, her smirk widening as she leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. “please, babe. i’ve got her attention. you’re just here to keep things interesting.”

gojo had had enough. sure, he’d made you see stars, made you fall apart on his dick like he always did. and yeah, he’d just had his own finish, but that didn’t matter.

he was greedy. always greedy.

his icy blue eyes darted to fem gojo, still lounging smugly with that shit-eating grin plastered across her pretty face. oh, he hated seeing his own smugness reflected like that.

“alright,” he huffed, running a hand through his disheveled hair before cracking his neck. “you wanna play games? fine. hold her for me.”

“oh?” fem gojo purred, clearly intrigued, though she raised an eyebrow. “what’s this now?”

“don’t ask questions, just do it,” he snapped, his tone sharp but impatient.

to your surprise — and maybe horror — fem gojo complied, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you back against her chest, locking you in place.

“good,” gojo muttered, his gaze dropping to your already trembling body. his lips quirked into a devilish smirk as he cracked his knuckles.

“now, sweetheart,” he said, his voice saccharine and low as he leaned down to meet your wide-eyed gaze, “you’re gonna give me six more. f'good luck. for my six eyes. makes sense, right?”

“s-six?” you stammered, your voice barely audible as you squirmed in fem gojo’s hold.

“don’t pass out before number three, okay?” fem gojo chimed in, her breath tickling your ear as she pressed a playful kiss to your temple.

“oh, she won’t,” gojo assured her, his tone all cocky confidence as his fingers found your oversensitive clit, circling it slowly, almost mockingly. “i’ve trained her too well for that.”

“you’re insane,” you gasped, your voice breaking as his movements picked up, sending shockwaves through your overstimulated body.

“and you love it,” he shot back, grinning as your hips bucked involuntarily.

“she’s already shakin',” fem gojo mused, her hands holding you firmly in place as you writhed in her grip. “think she can even make it to six?”

“she’ll make it,” gojo said confidently, his fingers dipping lower to press inside you.

you let out a strangled moan, your body arching against fem gojo as she held you tighter.

“one down,” gojo teased as you convulsed around his fingers, your first orgasm ripping through you with humiliating ease.

“just five more, baby,” fem gojo cooed, brushing her lips against your ear. “think ya cunt can handle it?”

you didn’t have the breath to answer, already lost in the haze of pleasure and anticipation as gojo smirked down at you.

“don’t worry,” he murmured, sliding his fingers out only to replace them with his cock, the stretch sending your mind reeling.

“we’ve got allll night.”

⋆˙⟡ —

the first rays of the sun filtered into your room, casting soft golden streaks across the absolute battlefield that was your bed. clothes were long forgotten, scattered along with the remnants of your once-organized collection of sex toys — all strewn haphazardly on the mattress and floor, evidence of what you’d been subjected to.

but you couldn’t exactly reflect on the mess, not when your mind was lost in the fog of overstimulation.

your body dangled limply in fem gojo’s strong, steady arms, her breath warm against your ear as she held you upright. your head lolled back against her shoulder, drool slipping from the corner of your lips as your boyfriend once again set a punishing rhythm with his hips.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he drawled, his voice rough from hours of exertion but no less smug. “what number are we on now?”

you tried to answer, you really did, but all that came out was a broken, incoherent moan, your voice cracking as your legs trembled helplessly.

“what was that?” fem gojo teased, her laughter soft and melodic as she adjusted her grip on you, her fingers brushing over your slick, sweat-dampened skin. “i think she lost count. did we hit six or are we on nine?”

“definitely nine,” gojo declared, grinning as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. “but she can’t keep up. guess i’ll just have to count for her.”

you whined, barely able to lift your arms, let alone argue.

“poor thing,” fem gojo cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy as her lips trailed along your neck. “bet her brain’s all mush now. aren’t ya, pretty?”

you whimpered in response, your body shuddering as another wave of pleasure surged through you, leaving you gasping and clutching at fem gojo’s arms for support.

“look at that,” your boyfriend said with a chuckle, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you closer. “she’s still got some fight in her.”

“for now,” fem gojo quipped, smirking as she nuzzled into your hair.

“but i think we’ve got her for a few more rounds before she taps out.”

“good,” gojo muttered, his pace quickening as his grin widened. “’m not done yet.”

⋆˙⟡ —

you should’ve known better. should’ve known better than to assume fem gojo would let up.

sure, she’d been lounging lazily for a while, playing her role as the smug spectator while her male counterpart relentlessly worked you over. but the thing about gojo — male or female — was that patience wasn’t exactly their virtue.

“y’know,” fem gojo began, her tone as sweet as honey but laced with mischief as she propped her chin on your shoulder, her lips brushing against your ear. “i think we should switch things up for the finale.”

“finale?” you rasped, your voice hoarse and barely audible, every muscle in your body trembling from the sheer exertion.

“yeeaah, finale,” fem gojo purred, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thighs as she glanced up at her male counterpart, who raised a curious brow. “we’ve been so focused on her. don’t you think it’s time she gives you some love, hmm?”

gojo smirked, catching on immediately. “oh? you’re suggesting somethin'?”

“just an idea,” she said with a shrug, though her grin was positively wicked. “how about she thanks you properly? y’know, with her mouth.”

your head snapped up weakly, eyes wide. “wait —”

“shhhh, sweetheart,” fem gojo cooed, pressing a finger to your lips. “’s only fair, don’t cha think? he’s worked so hard.”

“exactly,” gojo chimed in, already moving to position himself over you, his knees framing your chest as he settled on the bed. “you should thank me.”

before you could protest — or muster the energy to protest — you felt fem gojo’s hands on your thighs, spreading them apart with ease.

“and while you’re doing that,” she murmured, her breath warm against your inner thighs as she lowered herself between them, “i’ll take care of this pretty little cunt. sound good?”

you didn’t even have the chance to respond before her tongue was on you, dragging a loong, languid stripe up your soaked folds that made your back arch off the bed.

“shit,” you gasped, your hands clutching at the pillows beneath your head as your boyfriend smirked down at you.

“open up, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and commanding as he cupped your jaw, guiding you to take him into your mouth.

you whimpered, your lips parting obediently as he slid inside, the weight of him on your tongue making your eyes flutter shut.

“thaaat’s it,” he praised, his voice strained as he began to move, his hips rolling in slow, deliberate motions. “such a good girl f'me.”

beneath him, fem gojo was working you over with the precision of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. her tongue flicked against your clit, her lips wrapping around it to suck softly before diving back down, licking and lapping at you like a woman starved.

“god, you taste so good,” she mumbled, her voice muffled against your folds as she gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place. “i could do this all day.”

your muffled moans vibrated around your boyfriend’s cock, making him groan as he tangled his fingers in your hair.

“fuck,” he hissed, his head falling back as his movements quickened. “you’re gonna make me lose it, baby.”

the combination of sensations — the weight of your boyfriend in your mouth, the relentless pace of fem gojo’s tongue — was overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge once again.

“don’t pass out on us now,” fem gojo teased, her voice laced with amusement as she felt you clench around nothing, your body trembling violently. “you’ve got one more in you, don’tcha, sweetheart?”

you weren’t sure how you’d survive this, but as your boyfriend’s groans grew louder and fem gojo’s ministrations became even more fervent, you realized there was no escaping it.

you were completely at their mercy, and god, you weren’t sure if you’d ever recover.

the room was chaos, pure and utter chaos. the obscene mix of sounds — gojo’s low groans, your muffled gags, and fem gojo’s pleased hums — was almost too much for your fried brain to process.

you thought you were doing pretty well, honestly. your boyfriend’s usual sarcasm and taunting remarks had been steadily replaced by breathy curses and groans of approval.

“fuck, baby,” he muttered, his hand in your hair guiding you at a steady pace. “you’re so damn good at this — shit, look at you, taking me so well —”

you felt a flicker of pride at that, the kind that came with knowing you were completely wrecking him. but fem gojo? oh, she had other plans.

“aww, don’t forget 'bout me,” she chimed, her voice dripping with amusement as she leaned down, her breath warm against your oversensitive core. “can’t have you hogging all the fun, can we?”

before you could even process her words, her hand came down, a sharp slap! landing square on your clit.

the jolt of pleasure-pain tore a strangled sound from your throat — a sound that unfortunately turned into a gag as your body jerked in surprise, taking your boyfriend deeper than you ever had before.

“holy shit,” gojo choked out, his hips snapping forward instinctively as your throat spasmed around him. “fuck fuck fuck — wait! —”

too late. the sudden sensation was too much for him to handle, and with a low, guttural groan, he came, hot and thick down your throat.

“good — hah — girl,” he panted, his grip on your hair tightening as he rode out his high, his chest heaving. “goddamn — you’re perfect.”

but you barely had time to process his words before your body betrayed you again. fem gojo had taken full advantage of your momentary distraction, her tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you right to the edge — and then push you right over it.

“there it is,” she cooed as your thighs tensed around her head, her tongue still lapping at you eagerly. “god, you’re so pretty when you lose it.”

and lose it, you did. with a loud cry muffled by the aftermath of your boyfriend’s climax, you came, harder than you ever had before. the intense wave of pleasure ripped through you, your slick gushing out in a way that left both you and fem gojo absolutely stunned.

“well, well,” fem gojo murmured, pulling back just enough to wipe her soaked face with the back of her hand, a wicked grin spreading across her lips. “looks like we’re even now, huh?”

gojo’s dazed expression quickly turned smug as he caught his breath, his hand still tangled in your hair. “a squirt for a squirt?” he quipped, his grin sharp as he looked between the two of you. “not bad, sweetheart. i’m almost impressed.”

you groaned, your face burning as you buried it in the nearest pillow, both mortified and completely spent.

“aw, don’t get shy now,” fem gojo teased, leaning down to press a kiss to your thigh. “you did so well. maybe next time, i’ll let you return the favor properly.”

“next time?” you croaked, your voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

“of course,” she said with a wink, already sitting up and stretching like she hadn’t just been part of the most insane night of your life. “you don’t think this is a one-time thing, do you?”

gojo groaned, flopping onto the bed beside you with a lazy grin. “oh, definitely not,” he said, brushing a hand through his hair. “you’re stuck with both of us now, babe.”

and judging by the way they both looked at you — smug, teasing, and entirely too pleased with themselves — you knew you were in for a long ride.

you were done.

like, stick-a-fork-in-you done.

lying there in a dazed mess of tangled sheets and sore limbs, your legs were trembling so hard you swore you could start a minor earthquake. you didn’t even have the strength to bat an eye as male gojo leaned over you, brushing away the strands of hair plastered to your forehead with an almost uncharacteristic tenderness.

“baby, you good?” he asked, a rare note of genuine concern lacing his voice.

“does she look good to you?” fem gojo cut in, lounging nearby with a towel draped over her shoulder. she reached for your pussy tentatively, only for you to weakly swat her hand away.

“don’t you dare.” your voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, but it still made her chuckle.

“relax, i’m just kidding!… mostly,” she added with a wink, settling back as male gojo shot her a glare.

“she’s off-limits right now,” he said firmly, tossing a bottle of water onto the bed. “here, drink. if she passes out, it’s your fault.”

you groaned, rolling your eyes but still accepting the water with shaky hands. “like it’s just her fault,” you mumbled, earning a sheepish grin from him.

“you’re right, babe,” he admitted, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “but, c’mon. twelve orgasms? i mean, that’s a record, right? a feat of human engineering, honestly.”

fem gojo scoffed, sitting up to stretch. “please, if i wasn’t here, she wouldn’t have made it past six. you’re welcome, by the way.”

“you’re welcome for the stamina training i gave her,” he shot back, sticking out his tongue.

“both of you, shut up,” you groaned, dragging the towel over your face. “my entire body feels like jelly, and if one of you so much as breathes near me, i’m out the window.”

“she’s spicy when she’s exhausted,” fem gojo murmured with a smirk, tossing her head back dramatically. “fine, fine. i’ll behave.”

for now.

male gojo wrapped an arm around your waist, gently pulling you against his chest as fem gojo slid in on your other side. “we’ll take care of you,” he murmured softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“mmm,” was all you could muster, melting into his warmth despite yourself.

“you’re amazing, y’know that?” fem gojo whispered, brushing a hand over your hair. “an absolute goddess. we’re lucky to have you.”

you snorted weakly. “oh, now you’re sweet.”

“only ‘cause you look like you’ve been through a war,” she teased.

male gojo tightened his hold on you, his voice softening. “but seriously, babe. if we went too far —”

“you think?” you interrupted, cracking open one eye to glare at him.

“okay, fair. but we’ll make it up to you. promise.”

fem gojo hummed in agreement, already grabbing a nearby lotion bottle. “massages, snacks, cuddles. whatever you need.”

and for once, they actually seemed serious. no teasing, no ulterior motives — just two ridiculously hot versions of your boyfriend determined to take care of you.

maybe having both of them wasn’t so bad… as long as you kept fem gojo’s hands away from certain places.

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[lycastanne]

pro-hero!bakugou is so busy, as expected since he's a hero after all. a great one at that. he avoids relationships, because he's aware about how he cant properly manage his time. he wont go around giving hopes to people, he is a straight forward man.

but fuck, when he sees you in some movie premiere which his friend acts in, he really wants to try commit a relationship with you.

you're a journalist, he noticed from the mic you held and the logo around it. ah, you work for a big entertainment media or magazine? he's not sure. your body language shows that you're confident, he likes that.

he didn't even realize when you start talking to him.

“mr. dynamight, im (name) (last name) from vogue. can we ask you questions regarding the movie?” you asked politely.

“tch, dont make me wait too long.” he said, keeping the nonchalant act.

you gestures to your cameraman partner to get ready. once the camera is ready, you start to introduce yourself and him. he watches you with a small smirk, clearly enjoying this.

“dynamight, we hear that you're not a big fan of romcom movies, is that true? does this movie change your perspective of romcom movies?”

“yes.”

you furrowed your brows, confused.

“okay... moving on, who's the first one that comes to your mind when you hear 'queen or king of romcom'?”

“julia roberts. i think.” there's a questionable pause.

“i love her too! especially in notting hill. i watched notting hill when i was 14 and since then library date is my dream date.” you rambles, all giggly and smiley.

“have you been to one?”

“hm? im sorry?”

“the library date, i can take you. if you want to i guess.” his tone isn't exactly friendly but his reddened cheeks makes you realize that he doesn't mean it the mean way.

“id love to, y- yes— oh my god.” you stutter.

“i have to have your number then.”

since you don't carry your business card and there's only a pen, bakugou let you write your number on his arm.

“good, call you later, dollface.” within a blink he's gone.

your flabbergasted face is the only thing you could muster.

“is the camera still on?”

“its live.”

[pellucid-constellations]

Fable - Before

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Being in love with Azriel wasn’t hard; you’d been doing it for over 400 years. But things were changing, and soon, you would be changed. 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: This is part of a mini-series but each part can be read on its own/out of order. I know I'm like attacking everyone with this random fic I just started but it's getting my writing muse going and it's exciting!! Enjoy :)

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

“Do you think that’s the best idea, Az?” you promoted, cringing a bit as you hid your face in the racks of clothing along the store’s edge. “I mean, Rhys seemed pretty adamant that you… I don’t know—not pursue her?”

Azriel tsked, pressing his hand to the middle of your back as he passed behind you. You turned your wings in. “Rhys doesn’t understand. He only understands the pull of the mating bond and nothing else. But Elain doesn’t want Lucien, I’m sure of it.” 

Something twisted in your gut. “Okay, I believe you. But what if—” 

“Please, y/n, something else now. My failure of a love life must bore you.” 

You bit into your lip as you contemplated ignoring his request. He had done nothing but speak of Elain since you started your outing this evening, but the moment you questioned the feasibility of his plans, the topic was suddenly moot. 

“I was just going to ask,” you broached, turning from the clothes to face the shadowsinger. A necklace display enthralled him. “What if you found your mate? What then?” 

Azriel broke his gaze with the jewels. “That wouldn’t matter. This is different, y/n. You must see that. Three sisters for three brothers. It’s as if it’s a test of fate.” 

“Right,” you nodded, fighting off the urge to throw up or scream. “Destiny, maybe.” 

Azriel’s responding grin did little to soothe you. “Exactly. I knew you would understand. You’ve always understood me.” 

You offered a weak smile, biting the inside of your cheek as he ushered you out of the store with a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

This was getting more and more difficult to tamp down. 

When Azriel first became enamored by Elain, you thought it temporary. He had been chasing after Mor for so long; that wouldn’t be trumped by a woman he just met. And you were used to the way he pined for Mor. It hurt, but it was familiar. 

Azriel never seemed to think he had a real chance with her. 

But with Elain—with Elain, he figured he had a fighting chance. He saw the success of his brothers and felt that this was his chance at happiness. He never looked at you the way he looked at her, and he had had so many opportunities to do so. 

He never spoke of you the way he spoke of her. 

This hurt more than it did with Mor.

But still, Azriel was your family, so you pretended that it didn’t. You sat back and listened as he spoke of his grand plans to court her and sneak past Rhysand. You tried your best to provide good input and smiled when you were supposed to. 

You loved him from afar. 

He loved you differently. 

It wasn’t his fault.

“Did Rhys ever say what he wanted to talk to you about?” Azriel asked after a short stint of silence, the sounds of your steps along the streets of Velaris rhythmic and soothing. 

You blinked and focused your attention back on Azriel. “Oh, um, some mission at the camps I think.” 

“Anything big?” 

“I don’t think so. A little unrest but I think he just wants me to make sure the women are training.” 

“Need me to come?” 

“I would, but I leave tomorrow night. Isn’t that when you—you know…” 

Azriel sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Oh, that’s right.” He tilted his head to the side, weighing his internal conflict. “I could try to move some things around. Elain could—” 

“No, Az, it’s fine,” you interrupted, trying to forget about the times he would restructure his entire schedule to accommodate you. “You have to be diligent with the times you see her. I can see if Cass can come with me.” 

“Are you sure?” he posed, the question twisting his brow. 

You looked up at him, examining each tell on his face. You’d known him so long you were sure you would never forget his face—never scrub your mind of the intricacies that told you of each emotion he felt. 

Many claimed that Azriel was hard to read. As a Spymaster, that was the goal. But you saw through it all. You’d seen him as a boy and you saw him now. 

There was something unfamiliar on his face as you looked at him now. 

“You really like her, don’t you?” The words hurt as they came out. 

Azriel breathed through a smile. 

“I like my chances this time.” He curled his finger beneath your chin in a playful tap. 

That sounded the same. 

~~

“You sure you don’t want me to come, sweetheart?” Cassian asked for the fourth time, the table between you filled with a plethora of distractions that you were all too grateful for. 

You darted your gaze to the side, eager to ensure that Azriel hadn’t heard the loudmouth in front of you. “Yes, Cass. Now quit it. I got it, okay?” 

Cassian sent the pair at the end of the table a perfunctory, almost irritated glance. “It’s a pretty hostile camp you’re headed into. I feel like you should bring backup.” 

“And I feel like you have four other camps to go to today. And a pregnant mate to tend to, no?” 

“Nesta would sooner bash me over the head with her books than let me coddle her. I’ve tried.”

“Well, just… linger around her, I don’t know. Just know that I’m fine and don’t need a babysitter.” 

From the other end of the table, Elain giggled, the sound light and airy. You snuck a glance out of the corner of your eye to find the shadows along the table retreating to the floor. A few had begun to creep towards you, but you shooed them away with a flick of your foot, wanting to keep the conversation away from Azriel’s ears. 

They listened to you—for the most part. 500 years of pestering them made them give a little. 

“Az can’t come?” Cassian asked, his mouth half filled with roasted potato. “He’s not on anything this week.” 

You raised your brow and stared back at the sheepish look the general offered, waiting for him to chew his breakfast before you replied. “He can’t. Spy business.” 

“Spy business.” Cassian deadpanned.

“Uh-huh.” 

Cassian’s skeptical look rivaled your chastising one. “This doesn’t need to go like this and you know that.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Right. I’ve only known you since we were twelve but I’m going to pretend that you aren’t covering for the one person you—” 

“Cassian.” 

“I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

“Why would she be getting hurt?” Azriel spoke up, his head finally turned from his near-permanent gaze on Elain. 

“I wouldn’t,” you cut in, speaking over the beginning of Cassian’s sentence. “You know how Cassian is, always worrying too much.”

“Is there something to worry about?” Elain asked, looking between the members of the table, her question sweet and ironic coming from her mouth. 

“No—” 

“Yes.” 

“No, there isn’t” you gritted out, throwing Cassian a look. The smile you sent to Elain took effort. “I’m just going on a routine mission, but you know how Illyrians are—overprotective to a fault.” 

Elain nodded and blushed with a soft gleam in her eye, and, Gods, you were reminded why you’d stopped eating breakfast at the House. You bit the inside of your cheek to fight the swell in your throat. 

“I thought Cassian was going to go with you,” Azriel questioned. “You said he could.” 

Cauldron, you really should have taken breakfast in your room. 

You tore your gaze from Elain’s shy expression and blinked at Azriel. He was sat up straighter, brows shot upwards in an accusatory fashion that made you feel that you were in trouble. When you took a moment to respond, he tilted his chin forward, ready to catch you in a lie. 

And you were an awful liar. 

When you were thirty, Azriel had to teach you how to lie to help stave away the men that came with emerging adulthood. That had been mortifying for many reasons, but mainly because he was having you lie about being his mate. Your feelings had become complicated around that time and Azriel did not seem to share the sentiment. 

But you could lie about this with ease. You had become a practiced liar over the years—when it came to hiding your feelings. 

“I-I got an update from Rhys. He said the camp is more settled. I’m only going to watch from afar. They won’t even know I’m there.” 

A lie—a fat lie. But Azriel should be happy. He should pursue Elain as he wanted. You shouldn't get in the way. You needed to get away from them, actually. 

You needed the space. 

You felt Cassian’s disappointed stare on the side of your face but ignored the hole it was burning into your skin. 

“He didn’t inform me of that,” Azriel muttered. He looked to Elain—sweet Elain with her soft eyes and gentle features—and contemplated his night once again. “I think I should come with you. Reports could be conflicting or fabricated.” 

And the way Elain deflated made you press your lips together in a line. Azriel sent her an apologetic, downturned smile and you gathered that he was apologizing for you. You would always be an apology for him, a responsibility. 

Your foot had been shaking under the table without you noticing it, but the moment Azriel’s eyes wandered to Elain, the motion abruptly stopped. You gathered your resolve, sent Cassian another warning glance, and looked back to the man who never saw you. 

“I don’t want you to come, Azriel. I’m bringing Lucien.” 

A low blow, but not one that was uncalled for. 

It had the effect you were hoping for, with both Azriel and Elain sending shocked expressions your way, the former affronted and the latter looking lost. 

“Lucien?” Azriel parroted. 

“Yes,”  you confirmed, taking a causal sip from the cup before you. “Rhys thought it would be good for him to see more than just Velaris and the mortal lands. I’m picking him up before I leave.” 

“And you think he would protect you if the Illyrians went rouge?” Azriel’s tone was bordering on aggressive, his question pointed towards Cassian. 

“The Illyrians are always rouge, Az. That’s kind of the point of all this,” you joked, but the joke didn’t land.

Tension at the table remained. Cassian wasn’t saying anything, his arms crossed and his eyes locked on yours. Your foot started shaking again. Elain, of all people, was the first one to speak. 

“Lucien would protect her,” she nodded, pushing her food around her plate. “He would. He’s… a good male.” 

That altered Azriel’s train of thought very evidently if one were able to pick apart the soft widening of his eyes and the slight twitch of his mouth. All things you caught so easily. 

All things that led him to agree that you should go with Lucien. All tells that made him refocus his attention on Elain and ignore the shallow breaths you let out when you lied.

Because you would be fine with Lucien. Maybe if you went with Lucien, one of Azriel’s suspected obstacles would be removed. Maybe Lucien would start to want you the same way he wanted Elain. 

Only, Lucien wasn’t going with you, and there would never be a time that a conversation like this would happen again. 

A different obstacle, for a different time. 

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic - Simon Riley / female reader

When Simon was a child, he didn't believe good things could happen to him.

His father made sure of that, and as he became an adult, he never really grew out of the mentality. It was only solidified, after Roba, and the loss of his family, only further engrained in him, after he woke in the dark with dirt in his mouth, airway blocked by the earth itself.

It was persistent. His constant. The world was an awful place. Full of awful people.

Until you. Until you possessed his every thought. Until he realized that the affection that he held for you was not some fleeting obsession but something far, far worse. Something he was terrified to lose. Something called love.

He didn't believe in good things happening to him, for him, until you.

He can't think of anything in this world that matters more to him, than you and Orion, the baby. Cannot name a single thing he wouldn't give, to keep you both safe. Happy. With him. Forever.

“I need to see my son.” His voice isn’t his own, echoing in the mic, helicopter blades completing with the thunderous rattle between his ears.

“Almost there LT.” He nods in acknowledgment, but gives nothing else. There’s a violent black hole inside him, a planet shattering, sun obliterating void of dark chaos growing wider and wider, threatening everything in his path.

You’re okay. You have to be.

But why haven’t there been any demands? By now surely there would have been video, some grainy wide shot of your face, beaten and bloodied, held up by your scalp to look into the camera.

He chases the image from his mind.

You’re okay. You have to be.

“C’mere little man.” Fat tears roll down chubby cheeks, and Simon smothers his son into his chest.

“He hasn’t been sleeping.” Cami’s voice is watery, and she hangs onto Kyle, trembling like a leaf. “He was in his crib when they- when-“

“Shhh, okay. It’s alright.” Kyle soothes her, and she buries her face in his chest, shoulders shaking. Orion clings to Simon’s shirt, little sniffles breaking his already shattered heart apart into smaller pieces. He rubs his back.

“We’ll bring her home, Ry. We will.”

Simon’s kitchen is splattered with blood.

He was expecting more, to be honest, preparing for the worst. You wouldn’t have fought, he knows that, would have gone willingly to protect Orion and yourself.

That didn’t stop them from ransacking the house. They tore the living room apart and smashed out some windows. Threw Orion’s crib to the floor, which explains the bruising and tender skin on his legs and neck. Somehow, thankfully, that was the extent of his injuries.

He traces the arc of blood splatter on the cabinets with reverence. If this is the last piece of you, what will he do?

The thought forces him to his knees. A moment of weakness in a long stoic twenty four hours, he bends at the waist and claps his hand over his mouth to muffle the hoarse sob forcing its way out.

You’re okay. You have to be.

This is where John finds him. On his knees, in the kitchen, face wet.

For once in his life, he doesn’t hear the thump of a boot behind him until John is at his side.

“Simon.” He jerks upward, and John’s sad expression from earlier has hardened into steel. “We have a hit.”

[whisperofwonder]

Oh, Baby

Haikyuu men x pregnant!reader

Featuring: Miya Osamu, Kuroo Tetsurou, Kageyama Tobio, Sakusa Kiyoomi (~ 400 - 500 words each)

Most likely to be followed up at some point by scenes after baby is born because I have absolutely no chill

MIYA OSAMU

You pick at your dinner, trying your best to eat enough to satisfy Osamu. It's not that you aren't hungry, really. It's more that what you're hungry for isn't this. Osamu already worked hard to make it, though, so you'll make yourself content.

"What's wrong?" Osamu isn't fooled. He points at your plate with his chopsticks. "Isn't it good? I knew I shouldn't a' switched out the spices."

"No, it's good!" You insist quickly. "Really. I just - you're gonna think it's silly." You warn.

"Try me," He says, sitting back in his chair and watching you expectantly. You have no choice.

"I'm just really craving something in particular. Something different," You try to mask your disdain as you gesture at your plate. "I want onigiri."

"Really?" A smile breaks across his face. "Little guy wants onigiri, huh? Well that's not so bad. I can whip something up-" He's already out of his chair and poised to root in the fridge. "Whaddya want? We got tuna, umeboshi, or maybe..." He pauses to shuffle things around in the fridge in search of more ingredients.

"No," You interrupt before he can get too far, bracing yourself for what the baby is making you say next, "Actually, I was kind of thinking, well, peanut butter?" He goes still, head stuck in the fridge. "And, jelly?" You add more quietly. Slowly, he backs up and pivots, fixing you with a penetrating look.

"Sorry. It was all muffled in there. What sorta filling did ya want?" You repeat yourself, and watch as the smallest part of your husband dies. He blinks once, twice, then nods very slowly. "Okay," He says, quietly, almost as if he's steeling himself. "Okay." He repeats.

Hands resting on your growing middle, you watch as he methodically prepares the onigiri, with the exact fillings you'd requested. He hesitates with his spoon in the peanut butter, but he does what you asked. "Are ya sure this is my child?" He asks despairingly as he presents you with three perfectly formed onigiri.

"Positive," You assure him with a small chuckle. You can't help it - you're itching to dig into these onigiri, so you do. Is it an absurd combination? Yes. But does it satisfy the craving you'd been trying to ignore all day? Absolutely. You can't disguise your delight as you eat, humming happily as you savor the food your husband had so lovingly prepared for you, despite the desecration.

When you look up, you're surprised to find him smiling at you, head propped on his fist as he watches you eat.

"What're you grinning about?" You ask teasingly.

"Can't help it," He grumbles, "I'm just happy you're enjoyin' the food, even if it is an abomination. I love you." He gives your cheek a gentle pinch, then your stomach a loving pat.

"I love you too, Samu. We both do." You pause. "Want a bite?" You ask, holding the last onigiri out to him.

"Absolutely not."

KUROO TETSUROU

You're in bed, and it's barely 8:00. You never expected your normal day-to-day routine to tire you out this much, but then again you've never been 7 months pregnant before, either.

"Aw, come on," Tetsurou is cooing at your stomach, stroking it gently. "Just a little tiny kick? Mama gets to feel you move all the time." He's curled up with his face inches from your stomach, a dopey smile on on his face as he chatters to the baby as has become his nightly routine. You reach down to run a hand through his unruly hair.

"If you want someone to kick you in the bladder, that can probably be arranged," You say drily, snorting out a laugh when he looks up at you with a pout.

"I just want to feel her move," He sighs, "I feel like I always miss it. Everybody acts like it's so special."

"It is," You say softly, resting your hand on top of his. You can't deny that. "It'll happen," you say optimistically. With how bad he wants it, it has to, you silently tell your daughter.

"Yeah," He doesn't sound convinced, rolling to a sitting position. "Guess I'll go brush my teeth," He says, heading for the bathroom. You roll onto your back, reaching for your phone on the bedside table. You've just opened a conversation to respond to a text when you feel it - the faintest movement.

"Tetsu!" You call, "Come here!"

"What?" He's at the doorway in half a second, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and a frown creasing his brow, "Wha's wrong?"

"She's moving," You say, and shift to a sitting position. You hear him spit the toothpaste in the sink, and he's there in a heartbeat, hand on your belly. Right beneath his hand, you feel her kick. You watch as the look of wonder crosses his face.

"Hi, baby girl," He breathes, focusing all of his attention on the movement of your daughter beneath his hand. "I love you so much. I'm so excited to meet you." He turns to look at you then. "Finally," He grins, and you can't help but return it.

"Didn't I tell you?" You say smugly.

"Yeah, yeah." He silences you with a minty kiss.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

At this point in your pregnancy, there's very little that soothes your aching back. Lying down, standing up, moving around, the pain is always there in the background to some extent. That's why you find yourself in the living room in the middle of the night, propping yourself up between the arm chair and wall in search of a position that will provide some relief.

"Are you alright?" You nearly jump out of your skin at the touch of Tobio's hand on your back. When you left the room, he'd been sleeping like a rock as usual.

"Fine," You assure him, stretching to a slightly more dignified position. "My back's just a little sore."

"Oh," He runs a hand gently up and down the muscles of your back. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Hold this for a second?" You say with a breathy laugh, mostly joking as you press a hand beneath your round stomach.

"I can try," He says seriously, moving behind you. You're about to tell him it was just a joke, but then you feel his chest pressed against your back and his hands gently supporting the underside of your belly. Instead of the protest that had been forming on your lips, you let out a groan of relief.

"Was that good?" He asks uncertainly.

"Very good," You're quick to assure him, letting your eyes close. He only hums in response, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. You'd forgotten it was possible for your back to feel this normal. It's blissful. You could almost fall asleep right here and now.

"You sure are making trouble for your mama," You hear your husband whisper, drawing you back out of your drowsy state.

"It's okay," You murmur, "It'll all be worth it." He presses another kiss to your shoulder, and you sink back into silence.

"I really think we should get you back to bed," He says finally. Even though it means he'll have to let go, you feel you don't have any choice but to agree. "We can do this again tomorrow," He promises as he takes your hand to make your way back to the bedroom. You give his hand a tug and press a kiss to his lips. You'll hold him to that.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

"I'm home," You hear Kiyoomi call from the front door. You freeze, but it's too late to hide the evidence. Soon enough, your husband appears in the nursery doorway, and you're caught red-handed.

"I told you I'd build that bookshelf tonight," He says, striding into the room and plucking the loose shelf from your hand. He takes the bag of screws from the other, sets them down, and then draws you away from your project.

"I know, but I just had to do something," You insist. "I already put all the clothes in the dresser, vacuumed, washed the drapes, and the box was just sitting there." His brow creases, and you realize you've said too much.

"You washed the drapes?" He heaves a heavy sigh. "How did you even get them down? And put them back up?"

You smile nervously. "A chair," You try to sound nonchalant. "They really aren't that high."

"My love," He says, taking your hands in his. "Please don't do something like that again. What if you fell?" You lower your head, biting down on your lip. It truly hadn't crossed your mind.

"Sorry," You whisper, "There's just so much to do! We need to be ready. The baby will be here in just a few months. I just want everything to be perfect."

"I know," He says, now rubbing comforting circles into the backs of your hands, "And we'll take care of everything. Together." He draws you into him and tucks your head beneath his chin. "I promise. I just want you to be safe."

His voice is a comforting rumble against your ear, and you nod your head against him. "I know," You agree softly.

"Good," He says, pulling back and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Now, since you've been busy all day, why don't you let me make dinner?" You open your mouth to protest, but with one look at his face, you close it again. "After dinner, you can read me the instructions. I'll build the bookshelf."

You smile at your husband. "Thanks for taking care of us, Kiyoomi," You say, and his expression softens.

"Of course. It's my job."

[ihrthoney]

typing this laying in bed forcing myself to sleep but my brain wants to write so headcanon format it is.

thinking about ak!jason who has no idea that after his ‘death’ that you went insane looking for him. but you were no detective, you weren’t in the police field, you were just jason todd’s girlfriend.

but you damn well did everything you could, from begging bruce, to sneaking into offices, looking for nightwing, anything.

you taught yourself to use a gun to search places alone. jason would scold you for doing such a thing for him but you didn’t care, not when you knew he was alive.

you didn’t know.. but your gut feeling told you he was. a body was never found, nothing. you refused to believe it.

“you didn’t find anything? no pieces of his suit? no blood? nothing!?” you screamed and cried at batman, desperate, grieving.

“i’ve looked-“

“no! you didn’t! because if you did look everywhere you would’ve found something! all this technology and you still couldn’t track the location?”

“it’s not that simple.”

“right, because you aren’t the greatest detective in the world”

you tried to distract yourself with work but it was no use, not when you came home opening the spare bedroom door to your mess of a room. papers everywhere, maps, pictures, you would’ve seemed insane to any normal person.

you were exhausted, too many dreams of him in front of you but that’s all it was. dreams.

one night, you felt someone push your hair behind your ear. instantly, like jason taught you, you grabbed the knife under your pillow and went to slash at the intruder but the knife made a thud as it hit the floor.

a hand, gently, wraps around your wrist.

you blink your eyes awake, taking in the person in your home.

jason.

no. it’s another dream.

“you’ve gotta be quicker than that, sweetheart.”

you don’t speak, still taking in what’s going on. the light from the moon just barley shows his face.

“hey don’t cry baby, it’s okay.”

you back away, unable to take another hallucination.

“no.. this isn’t real. you can’t be here. i haven’t found you yet.”

“i’m right here, baby.”

shaking your head, you back into the corner of your bed, making yourself as small as you can.

“no, i have to find him. i have to find jason!”

“look at me, sweet girl.”

you can’t tear your face from your arms, so he softly pulls your face up with both hands, wiping your tears,

“i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere ever again.”

the closer he is, the more you notice the difference in his features.

the j on his face, the scars, but his eyes,

his sweet beautiful eyes still look at you with love.

“i’m so sorry.” you give in, real or not, you hug him.

he hates it, after everything he’s been through he can’t take the affection. but for you? for you he’d do anything.

so he lets you cry into him, squeezing him tight, even if he can’t be the jason you loved, he holds you all the same.

sobbing into his chest, “i tried so hard to find you”

“i know you did sweetheart, i saw the room. but it wasn’t your job to find me.”

“don’t say that, you’re the love of my life. i would rather die than stop looking.”

“you did good.”

“i didn’t. you still had to find me.”

“i’d climb out of my grave and crawl back home to you, i’ll always find you.”

“please don’t let this be a dream.”

“i’m right here.”

he holds you until the sun rises, rocking back and forth slightly. he’ll tell you about it all later, for now, he just wants you close.

edit: i will be making this into a fic later ;p

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [10] - Storm

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: A sudden storm can be overwhelming.

Word Count: 3670

CW: Explicit language, blood, injuries, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

Getting too caught up in a relationship hadn’t been an issue since you’d had Theo, but before him, there was a reason why all your friends accused you of being a romantic. When you fell in love, you didn’t even think about the possibility of a break up but—

You really should have.

“Logan?”

Logan looked down at you, running his fingertips over your spine while you played with the dog tags around his neck.

“Yeah?”

“I have a question but you need to promise me you’ll be honest.”

A rumble of a chuckle vibrated in his chest, making you bite back a smile as you looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest.

“The last time you made me promise that, you ended up asking me what animal I thought I could beat in a fight.”

“That was for science.”

“How?”

“In case one day we decide to go on a safari and end up getting stranded in there.”

“That’s a possibility?”

“You can’t be too careful,” you said. “I’m used to thinking about every scenario—anyway, this is another question.”

“I’m listening.”

“So you have the super strength and all that…”

“Yeah.”

“What supernatural creature do you think you could take down in a fight?”

Logan blinked a couple of times. “That’s the question you want me to answer honestly?”

“Could you take down a werewolf?”

“We’re actually talking about this,” Logan muttered to himself. “Okay.”

“A werewolf,” you insisted. “Could you take down a werewolf?”

 He took a deep breath, then shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t think it’d be that difficult to take down a werewolf,” he stated and you hummed.

“A little cocky, but I’ll let it slide,” you said, laying your head on his chest again. “A vampire.”

“Please, vampires are lame,” he said with a grimace. “I could definitely take down a vampire, are you kidding?”

“You sound so sure of yourself that I’m half-tempted to ask if you’ve ever taken down a vampire.”

He let out a chuckle. “I’m not going to be beaten by a creature that can’t survive in the sunlight even if it’s hypothetical.”

“They are pretty powerful.”

“To repeat, they burn in sunlight. Doesn’t sound powerful to me.”

You clicked your tongue.

“How about a zombie?” you asked. “Could you take down a zombie?”

“Those things fall apart anyway, shouldn’t be difficult.”

“What if it’s a herd?”

“Same logic.”

“You’re telling me you could take down one hundred zombies?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

You hid your yawn behind your hand. “Um, mermaids.”

“Mermaids aren’t even scary.”

“No, not that type of—like those in Pirates of the Caribbean, have you watched that?”

“No.”

“I’ll put that on the list. It’s like—it’s like sirens, they lure you to the sea and then drown you.”

He paused for a moment, then hummed.

“Yeah, I think a mermaid could take me down.”  

“Really?”

“I’m not good with water.”

“Can you swim?”

“I can swim but if I try to stay still in the water I sink,” he said slowly. “Because of the skeleton. And like I said, I’m not good with water.”

Something in his voice sounded distant so you decided not to push him. You were way too sleepy for a big conversation anyway, and you didn’t want to force him to talk about anything he didn’t want to talk about. Heaving a sigh, you nuzzled closer to him and he dipped his head to press a kiss on top of your head.

“How about you?” he asked. “What supernatural creature could you take down in a fight?”

“Do you know any creatures you can disarm with the power of speech?” you asked, making him let out a laugh.

“Not really.”

“I mean I think I’d have a better chance surviving a vampire than a werewolf,” you murmured, your voice already drowsy. “Werewolves have fewer weaknesses I think, and yes vampires can hunt you down but only in night time. Well, werewolves can only hunt you down during the full moon, there’s that but I feel like as far as supernatural creatures go…”

You didn’t even realize you were falling asleep.

Until a soaring pain pulled you out of it.

A scream left your lips as your eyes snapped open, your hand shooting to your other arm to grab at it. You sat up straighter in the bed, now realizing Logan was also awake and upright in bed, breathing hard and unsheathing his claws. Your name spilled from his lips in a whisper as you looked down at your arm, the blood pouring from the open wound, coating your hand and the sheets in red.

“I’m fine—” you managed to say breathlessly while Logan stared at you, complete terror in his eyes. “I’m fine it’s just…um—”

“Let me see,” he said in a low voice and you tried to blink back the tears with a grimace. Logan carefully lifted your arm, letting you see the three gashes through all the blood under the dim light of the moon coming from the window.

Shit.

“You need stitches,” Logan muttered as he grabbed his jeans to put them on. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“Stitches?” you repeated, looking down at your arm. “Are you sure?”

“Those are deep cuts,” his voice sounded a little distant again and you couldn’t tell it was because of the blood loss you were currently suffering from. He bunched up his white shirt to press it against the wound, making you hiss in a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he swallowed thickly. “I’m so sorry.”

“What—no, it’s fine!” you said in a haste, trying to focus through the fire burning your arm. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is.”

“Logan—” you started but he went to grab your sweater off the chair at the corner of the room, then made his way back to you. He helped you get into it, then into your jeans while you held onto his shoulder trying to move your arm as little as possible.

“I can carry you—”

“Logan, it’s just my arm,” you assured him with a huff of a laughter. “I can walk. It’s totally fine.”

A shadow crossed his eyes, his jaw clenching tight.

“Right,” he muttered through his teeth. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

                                               *

You really, really hated hospitals. As a child, you were quite the troublemaker so you’d had your fair share of hospital visits, and each and every time was quite painful. Even now, as a grown up, you couldn’t help but feel tense whenever you had to go to hospitals.

And Theo’s very scary birth hadn’t helped the situation.

But if anything, this really wasn’t a big deal. A couple of stitches and you would be fine, but Logan looked much more tense than you were. He was completely quiet and withdrawn, standing in the corner of the hospital room like a guard dog while the doctor worked on your arm.

“So how did you get this, exactly?” she asked and you tried to smile at her.

“Oh, uh…I work in a diner,” you said. “And as it turns out, night shift and sharp objects aren’t a good combo.”

“I’d bet,” she said as she pulled back to look at the stitches, then took off her latex gloves. “Well the good news is, it’s a very clean cut so it’ll be much easier to heal. Keep it dry the first day, and after tomorrow you can wash around it with clean water twice a day.”

“Okay.”

“Take the antibiotics, apply the cream I prescribed and…well, be careful around knives?” she said with an assuring smile and you let out a small laugh.

“Noted. Thank you so much, doctor.”

“Have a nice night,” she said and walked past the cubicle curtain. You let out a breath, feeling around the gauze before lifting your head to smile at Logan.

“Hey,” you said. “You okay?”

For some reason, Logan couldn’t hold your gaze like he usually would, so instead he stole a look at you before fixing his gaze on the floor and nodded.

“Sure.”

“You don’t like hospitals either huh?” you asked, “I mean if I hate the smell, I can’t imagine how you feel with those enhanced senses of yours.”

Logan didn’t answer, instead he rushed to help you when you grabbed your coat so that you could put it on.

“Thanks,” you said and he pulled his hands back as if he could burn you if he kept them on you a second longer than he needed to. You pulled your brows together, but didn’t comment on it as you started walking beside him to get out of the building.

You didn’t really do well with quiet so the music coming from the radio and your nonsense chatter were the only things filling the silence in the car. Logan met your questions with occasional grunts to signal that he was listening and at best you got curt, one-word answers.

It was only when you walked into your apartment and Logan followed you like a quiet guardian that you turned to him, putting your hand on your hip.

“Logan.”

He closed the door behind him. “Hm?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I can talk until the sunrise but this is becoming a one-way street,” you told him. “Are you okay?”

He blinked a couple of times as if he couldn’t believe you were asking him that.

“Are you?” he asked back after a beat and you shrugged your shoulder.

“It’s not the first time I’m getting stitches,” you said. “And to be completely honest with you, after childbirth everything else they do to you in a hospital kind of pales in comparison. I’m fine.”

He snorted, then clicked her tongue. “Sure.”

“No seriously, it’s just stitches,” you said, walking to the kitchen to fill yourself a glass of water. “And you heard what the doctor said, it’ll heal pretty easily.”

You popped the painkillers in your mouth, then downed them with water before putting the glass back on the counter, then walked back to the hallway.

“If I go to sleep right now, I think I can survive on three cups of coffee instead of four tomorrow,” you joked with a grin, but he couldn’t even smile back, he just followed you to the bedroom. After helping you get into a comfortable oversized shirt, he took a step back as you sat down on the bed. You frowned, tilting your head.

“Are you coming?” you asked, motioning at the bed and Logan shook his head.

“No,” he said, his voice deep. Your frown deepened.

“What?”

“I should uh—” he motioned at the living room. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I’d still hear if you needed anything at night and it’d be safer.”

“Safer?” you repeated. “Logan, come on.”

“I can’t risk another nightmare and you ending up with…” he nodded at your arm and you scoffed a laugh.

“That won’t happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

Alright, this was strange.

Logan was never this curt with you. He wasn’t the most open person in the world, yes, but whenever he spoke to you, his voice would always be warm, melting your insides. Now he sounded way too distant, way too controlled.

You might as well have been speaking to a robot.

“Why are you punishing yourself right now?” you asked, looking him in the eye and something in his gaze shifted before his jaw clenched again, then he shook his head.

“Call my name if you need anything,” he said, walking out of the bedroom and you blinked a couple of times in confusion. A sigh left your lips and you rubbed at your eyes, then slowly lay down on the bed, grimacing when a sudden spark of pain shot through your arm. You put your pillow under your arm, then grabbed Logan’s pillow to bury your face into it, the pleasant smell of his cologne soothing your senses before sleep creeped up on you, pulling you into its warmth.

                                                 *

 When you woke up, you were still groggy and your arm was throbbing. A grimace twisted your face and you took a deep breath, then pulled yourself up to sit up in the bed, and looked down at your arm, feeling around the gauze. It wasn’t extremely painful, but it still made sure to let you know it was there so you had a feeling you were going to have to be extra careful carrying plates at the diner, at least for a while. The delicious smell coming from the kitchen made you turn your head and you nibbled on your lip, then slowly pushed the covers off of you and got up from the bed to make your way to the kitchen.

“Hi stranger,” you said with a grin and Logan looked over his shoulder, then put the grilled cheese sandwich right next to scrambled eggs on the plate.

“Morning.”

“If breakfast is your way of apologizing for not sleeping next to me last night,” you said as he poured you coffee, then placed the cup on the small table next to the plate. “It’s the right path.”

A forced smile twitched the corners of his lips upwards before you sat down, then grabbed the sandwich to take a huge bite.

“Aren’t you eating?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Not really hungry.”

You blinked a couple of times; that was new.

“Logan,” you said, clearing your throat before putting the sandwich down. “I think we should talk about what happened.”

“I agree, but after breakfast.”

You pulled your brows together in confusion, then shrugged with one shoulder before grabbing your coffee cup to take a big sip. Logan’s gaze didn’t leave you as if he was trying to take in the sight of you as much as he could, as if he was trying to burn this- you, this moment- into his mind. The look in his eyes wasn’t distant anymore but worse; it was just haunted. You could feel your stomach doing an unpleasant flip before you tried to shake off the chill running down your spine, then chewed your bite and cleared your throat.

“What time did you wake up?”

Logan shook his head slightly.

“Didn’t sleep.”

“At all?” you asked, gawking at him and he shrugged his shoulder almost nonchalantly.

“It’s fine.”

“Well it’s actually—” you started but were cut off when your phone started ringing in the bedroom.

“One moment,” you said and rushed to the bedroom to grab it off the nightstand, then answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey love,” Stacey’s voice reached you. “Did I wake you up?”

“No no, I was already up,” you said and sat down on the bed. “What’s up?”

“Okay so, the boss is going to kill me, but…”

“Don’t say it.”

“I’ll be late again.”

You let out a small laugh. “Stace.”

“Okay I know what you’re gonna say but this time it’s totally not my fault.”

“No?”

“Well, my body decided to have a hangover after last night, so technically it’s not my fault.”

You hummed. “How much did you drink?”

“Well it was my friend’s birthday and Paul and his friends were at this bar and we decided to go have fun, and then my friend hooked up with Paul so I had to drink a lot to stop myself from visualizing what was going on in the bathroom.”

“I can imagine,” you said. “It’s fine. I’ll cover for you, no worries.”

“Ugh, you’re an angel and I love you.”

“Love you too Stace,” you said with a laugh, then hung up the phone and shook your head before making your way back to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” you told Logan and sat down. “It’s Stacey, you’ve met her.”

“You’re going to work today?” Logan asked. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Oh yeah, it’s totally fine,” you said. “I barely feel it to be honest, and I’ll be careful.”

“But…”

“Besides, I need to cover for Stace,” you said. “Apparently her friend hooked up with Paul—you remember our line cook Paul? He’s kind of a womanizer, I’m kind of surprised she and Paul never had a thing—they sure do flirt a lot but anyway, Stacey’s friend and he hooked up last night and knowing Stacey, she probably drank everyone under the table, and now she has a hangover. Shocking, isn’t it?”

Logan nodded slowly without pulling his gaze off of you.

“Did I tell you about how when Stacey and I first met, I ended up getting black out drunk?” you asked, biting into the grilled cheese sandwich. “It was my first day at the diner, and she convinced me to have a night out with her, and I swear to you, that girl is a goddamn sponge when it comes to alcohol. I was out a couple cocktails in, and she still had numerous shots and cocktails after. Julie was taking care of Theo that night, so I ended up sneaking into my own apartment so that he wouldn’t wake up, and rambled to Julie for like two hours straight about kittens, and then fell asleep watching cat videos.”

A small, sad smile curled Logan’s lips and you smiled back at him, then took another sip of your coffee and put your empty plate into the sink.

“Compliments to the chef,” you said with a grin despite the strange tension almost palpable in the kitchen. “If you ever get tired of going on missions and stuff, you could go into culinary world I feel like.”

He scoffed a laugh and you took a deep breath, then cleared your throat.

“So,” you said. “Can we talk?”

Logan swallowed thickly and nodded his head, his jaw clenching.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened, at all,” you said. “It was an accident. You…you had a nightmare right?”

Logan paused for a moment, then shook his head. “That’s not an excuse.”

“Logan, that’s an accident,” you insisted. “You really shouldn’t blame yourself. I don’t.”

“You should.”

“Well then sucks to be you because I’m not gonna,” you said. “And unless you want to get separate beds like those weird couples in the 1950s, I don’t see how you’re planning on—”

“I think we should break up.”

That managed to shut you up mid-rant. Your eyes snapped up to his and for a couple of seconds, you could only gawk at him in complete silence, your throat getting tighter.

“…What?” you managed to rasp out, your voice lost somewhere in your throat and Logan crossed his arms, leaning his back to the wall.

“It’s going to be safer for you—”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Do you realize what could’ve happened?” he asked back, his voice tense. “We got lucky, if you can even call last night that.”

“Logan, it’s a goddamn scratch!”

“Yeah, this time!” he insisted. “This time it was only a scratch on your arm, what about the next time? What if it wasn’t your arm?”   

“You cannot be serious,” you said, blinking back the tears as you shook your head. “You can’t.”

“I’m not going to have your blood on my hands,” he said, his eyes locked in yours. “I can’t hurt you. Not…not you. I was so wrapped up in this that I forgot how dangerous I could be for you—”

You let out a breath, running a hand over your face. “Don’t give me that speech again.”

“I’m not talking about some silly heartbreak,” Logan told you through his teeth. “I’m talking about life and death. You might see it as nothing, but we both know that it’s not nothing.”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm and sniffled, blinking back the tears again.

“I told you, I’m going to be the one who decides whether this relationship is dangerous or not.”

A dry laugh climbed up his throat.

“Do you have any idea what it would do to me if I…” he couldn’t even finish the sentence as if the mere thought was way too painful. “I can’t put you in danger.”

“You’re not putting me in danger,” you insisted. “You can hear my heartbeat, can’t you? You can smell it when I’m scared, when I’m—when I’m nervous. So tell me; last night, was there even a second that I was scared of you? Or this morning? Have I ever been nervous around you because I thought I was in danger?”

That made him pause for a moment before he shook his head. “No.”

“There you go. There’s your answer to your moral predicament.”

“That makes it even worse,” he rasped out and you frowned.

“How?”

“Because now it falls on me to do it,” he said. “And I can’t even fucking convince myself that you want it.”

You sniffled, shaking your head.

“Don’t do this,” your voice was a low whisper. “Please don’t do this.”

He stared at you, the look in his eyes so painful that for a moment it made you think you were somehow tormenting him with mere words before he clenched his teeth and stepped closer to you so that he could carefully wrap his arm around your waist. He moved slow as if he was terrified that he could somehow hurt you just by touching you and he dipped his head to press a kiss on top of your head as you sniffled, making his grip around your waist tighter for only a moment. You could feel him nuzzle into your hair and stay there completely frozen for a couple of seconds, as if he couldn’t bring himself to pull back.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to say after a beat and pulled back, then walked out of the kitchen. You heard the front door open before it closed, and as if on cue you fell on your knees, burying your face in your hands.

Then the sobs started.

[luveline]

oh I think about kbd daily

—Steve has a small surprise for you after dinner. mom!reader, 3k

“What’s wrong with Dove?” you ask. 

Dove lays on the floor. Avery sits beside her, rubbing back with eyes trained on the TV. “Daddy told her no. She wanted to climb on the counter in the kitchen. Then she bit him.” 

You sigh. It’s not the best scene to come home too, but you can make it work. “I got the cherry pops,” you tell her. 

Avery grins. “Awesome.” 

You cross the room and squat in front of them. Avery accepts a kiss on the forehead, but Dove whimpers when you touch her. “Are you sulking, Dovie?” you ask. 

She makes an annoyed sound. 

“You’ve been biting poor daddy?” you ask her. 

“No.” 

“Are you lying to me?”

She cries. You smile ruefully. “I’m just asking if you bit him, baby.” 

“I didn’t.” 

You don’t believe her, but sometimes, sometimes, it’s better to agree with a sulking child rather than tell them off. You don’t want to make a spoiled kid, but you don’t want to make the whole thing into a big scene when Avery’s just trying to watch TV. You’re sure Steve gave Dove his own warning when the bite happened initially. 

You rub her back. 

“How are you, Avery?” you ask softly, looking at your eldest with a fondness yet to waver. Long years of loving her have passed in the blink of an eye.

“I’m okay, mom.”

“Did you have a good day?” 

“It was good! Daddy put those rolled up sandwiches in my lunch and everybody was jealous. And we made paintings, but mine was still wet at home time.” 

You give her a proud kiss. “Good, baby, that’s good. Where’s Bethie, do you know?” 

“In the kitchen.” 

Dove whines. 

You slip a hand under her soft belly and turn her onto her back. She glares at you through pink eyes, clearly tired and not coping with it very well. “It’s okay, honey. I missed you, I wanted to see your beautiful face. Can I make you a buppy?” 

Dove likes the sounds of it, finally sitting up where she’s been lounging on the floor. 

You give Avery another proud kiss. “Thank you for rubbing her back,” you say. 

Avery grins, her hands reaching for you before you can stand for a quick hug. You pat her skinny shoulder, wondering to yourself if she needs to be eating more snacks. “I missed you, too, mom.” 

“Oh, I missed you,” you tell her. She’d never understand just how much. “Do you need anything from the kitchen, mm? Maybe a yoghurt or something?” 

“Dad says dinner is nearly ready.” 

“But do you want yoghurt?” 

She nods her head. 

Pleased with your first assessment of the evening, you dump your keys and handbag and remember to take your shoes off, shoving them half-heartedly near the door. They send a foam soccer ball tumbling toward the corner of the room. 

You drag yourself to the kitchen and press open the ajar door. Steve is not where you’d assumed, but Beth is there at the kitchen table with her unicorn stuffie, it’s purple fur shiny but scruffy under her hand. She’s talking to him, and seems shyly caught when she sees you. 

“Hi, baby. Hi, Snuffles.” 

Beth smiles. “He says hi.” 

You open the cabinet by the fridge and pull out a clean bottle. It isn’t sterilised but it doesn’t need to be for Dove. She isn’t drinking formula, either, just cow’s milk straight from the jug. You grab a yoghurt for Avery while the fridge is open, then remember the box of cherry ice pops in your handbag and double back for them before they can melt. As soon as they’re in, you go back to the fridge for the yoghurts. 

“Beth, you want a yoghurt?” you ask. 

“Dad says dinner’s nearly ready.” 

“I know, but they’re only small. Peach?” you offer. 

Beth reaches for one. You give her a yoghurt and a little spoon, pressing your nose into her hair for a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back to ask about your day, okay?” 

“Okie dokie.” 

“And Snuffles’, too!” 

Beth giggles as you leave. You give Avery her own yoghurt and a spoon, and you give Dove her bottle. She shoves it in without looking and from that moment on her eyes are locked onto the screen. 

There. Complicated, but done. 

You press a hand to your head and think after your husband. He isn’t usually quiet or unseen. Most days you get home to him in the kitchen trying to make dinner, or sitting on the couch with one or three kids in his lap. There are no signs of him, besides his jacket on the hanger by the door. He’s still in the building, you think to yourself with a laugh. 

You turn out of the living room and find him rushing down the stairs. 

“Hey!” he says, scraping wet hair back from his face, his arms already open for you as he reaches the bottom step. 

“Hey!” you say back, smiling, not expecting his arms as they wrap around you. Nice arms. Nice husband. Smells like himself, almost a decade of familiarity in the way he covers your back with his arms. “You’re in a good mood for a chew toy.” 

“Fucking–” Steve laughs and squeezes your waist. “Yeah, I’m in a good mood, my girl’s home.” He gives your head a kiss and peels away, offering his arm out, evidence of little teeth in fat of his forearm. 

“How’d you handle that?” 

“Well, I shrieked like a kid and I did raise my voice, you know, like a super jerk, but she did try to bite through my skin.” 

One of the teeth marks is a puncture, and the rest of the bite will be a purple bruise by tomorrow. 

“I think that’s alright,” you say, touching his bruise, then his chin with the back of your hand. You stroke to his cheek. 

“You’re obsessed with me,” he says. 

“No.” 

“You are. This is sad. This is a level of obsession you should be ashamed of.” 

“No way.” 

“It’s sad,” he whispers, angling his head down to yours. 

You must’ve done something right today, the way he kisses you. Must look cute, or must’ve said the right thing, touched him the right way, his kissing long and gentle and loving, warming, tipping into steadiness as your lips part under his. Honestly, it’s a little shocking how deeply he kisses you, like a window into one of your more tender moments, right there in the middle of the hall. 

When he pulls away, you take his hand. “Are you okay?” you ask. 

“Fine. Just missed you.” 

“Huh…” You press his hand to your stomach. “Long day?” 

“No, it’s been okay, really. Apart from Dove turning cannibal, I have no complaints. Avery’s Avery, and Beth’s Beth.” 

Which is to say, Avery’s a sweetheart and Beth her quiet companion. The girls are actually, somehow, well-behaved, and you don’t have a clue how it happened because Steve aggravates and you think every problem can be solved with a cuddle. Dove seems more accurate to what you’d expected from one of Steve’s children, honestly, which isn’t to say she isn’t lovely or sweet or beautiful, you expected all of that too, but wow, can she get wound up. 

His good mood is too good, though. Yes, your kids are nice, yes, you have a lot to be happy for, but he’s practically beaming as he slips his hand behind your back and guides you to the living room. 

Dove sees her father and goes limp with guilt. She pulls the bottle from her mouth and pouts at him, her eyes silver at the waterline. “Daddy, I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “Are you mad?”

He rubs your back. “You know I’m not mad, it just hurts when somebody bites you, it surprised me. It really hurt, honey.” 

“I’m sorry.”  

“I know,” he says, “wanna kiss it better for me?” 

Dove abandons her bottle on the couch and struggles down to the floor. Even that turns his heart, you can tell, so it doesn’t surprise you when he takes her up into his arms the moment she’s close enough and kisses her cheek. “Me first,” he says. 

“Sorry I bit you,” she mumbles. 

“Daddy’s not mad,” he mumbles back, “it just hurt, that’s the thing. I don’t like being bitten.” 

“I won’t do it again,” she says clumsily. 

“Good! Thank you,” he says, grinning at you as she kisses his cheek, like, look at how freaking adorable she is. “Mom made your buppy? Are you gonna have dinner, honey, or should we sit down for a nap?” 

Steve ends up sequestered with Dove for a nap in the corner of the couch. He looks good, arguably at his finest with Dove tucked under his chin and his hand spread out across her back. She dozes and sniffles. He smiles against her hair. 

You spy on them from the kitchen doorway, sipping a cold glass of water. Dinner’s done, cooling on the counter on sheet trays. Steve’s made the usual, a big tray of buttered, roasted veggies and pot pie. There are pork chops for Beth and a few extra in case anyone wants their own, and there’s a bowl of peas because Dove loves them. He’s such a good guy, you think. You each have jobs to do, he has to make dinner, you have to wash the dishes after, but it doesn’t make it feel less true. He makes coming home the best part of every weekday. 

Another ten minutes and he’s kicked the big bean bag into shape, laying Dove down for a nap there. He spreads her pink baby blanket over her and fawns when it fails to cover her feet. 

“She’s getting so big,” he says, scratching his hand through his hair as he makes his way to you. 

“And so vocal,” you say. 

“I noticed that too, she’s saying more words at one time.” He puts a hand on your waist for no reason at all. 

“Maybe ‘cos Ave was home.” 

“You remember that day she woke up and all her pants didn’t fit anymore?” he asks. “It’s like that.” 

She would have only been four. Beth was still a baby. You’d made your way into Avery’s room as Steve gave a grizzly Beth her bottle, and, upon getting her dressed, discovered all of her pants were now too short. Her legs must’ve grown overnight. She hadn’t felt a thing. 

Beth gets growing pains something awful, but Avery keeps on shooting up without complaint. You’re sure she’ll be taller than Steve by the time she’s in high school. How beautiful she’ll be then. 

“What?” Steve asks you. 

“Nothing, just thinking. Time moves fast.” 

“If you don’t stop and look around–”

“Thanks, Ferris.” 

Steve moves you into the kitchen, tipping your head aside to kiss the line of your neck, and then splitting for the cabinet where you keep the plates. “You’re welcome.” 

You plate dinner. The oldest girls wander in and sit in their seats. Steve fills a carafe with lemonade and laughs when Avery makes a face, her first sip sour, cold, and carbonated. “It’s fizzing,” she says. 

“It’s soda,” Steve says. 

“You should warn me, dad!” 

“Is that okay?” you ask Beth, having cut up her two pork chops into small pieces. “Yeah? Do you want some more broccoli?” 

“Mommy, no one wants more broccoli.” 

“Don’t be like that, you know daddy makes the best broccoli, it’s got honey and salt and pepper–”

“And garlic butter,” Steve says. 

You sit in the chair beside Beth’s and drag your plate in front of you. “I’m gonna have more.” 

“Okay, I will have more too,” she says. 

“Want some green beans?” you ask. 

“Um, no. Just broccoli.”

Avery stabs at her green beans enthusiastically. She eats every bit of food on her plate no matter the colour, and she asks Steve for seconds, which he plates up for her immediately, despite being mid-mouthful. Under the table, he pushes his ankle against yours. It’s a quiet, normal dinner. Even Snuffles gets a bite of pork. 

“That alright?” Steve asks you. 

“Amazing, honey, like usual. Really good, I don’t know how you make vegetables taste unhealthy.” 

“All the butter,” he says, rubbing his ankle against yours. 

“Are you done?” you ask. 

He pushes the serving plate of veggies toward you. “Go ahead, beautiful.” 

You take what’s left of the veggies. Avery gets another slice of pot pie. Beth finishes all of her pork and a few of the potatoes. The broccoli, despite her wanting more, go mostly untouched. All in all, everyone’s fed. 

“You did make a plate for Dove,” you ask suddenly, worried you’ve been greedy. 

“Yeah, I did, don’t worry. I made her enough peas to feed her three times over. And I can make more, if you want more.” 

You try not to flush. It’s not like Steve’s unaware of your appetite, and he doesn’t expect you to survive off of salad and saltines, but you’re still embarrassed enough to shake your head vehemently. “Yikes.” 

“Stop, you’re fine.” He takes a square of roasted potato off of your plate, wipes his hands in a napkin, and squeezes you by the shoulders. “Just gonna check Dove.” 

Beth scrambles off of her seat at the first opening. “I’m done.” 

“Can I make you a PB–”

“No!” She grins at you. “No thanks, I’m full.”

“You gotta have oatmeal later, then.” 

She nods like this is fine. “Yes, thank you.” She leaves for the living room. You hear her shy, “Thanks for dinner, daddy,” and Steve’s adoring, “You’re so welcome, thank you for eating it. Come here, let me give you a kiss.” Giggling and the sound of smacking pecks follows. 

Avery sits up. “Can I have another drink?” 

You cram the last of the broccoli into your mouth and stand. You pour her lemonade and start stacking the plates to carry them over to the sink. 

“No, I’ll help!” Avery says. 

“Baby, it’s okay. Drink your drink and have five minutes. You don’t wanna get sick.” 

“You haven’t had five minutes.” 

You laugh. “My body’s bigger than yours, so it only needs the one. It’s really okay, just finish your dinner and you can help me dry the knives and forks. I’ll save them for last.” 

Steve returns. “Girls,” he says, tucking the chairs under the table, “I didn’t expect you guys to be so hungry, I forgot about the secret.” 

You scrape what’s left on your plate into the trash. “What secret?” 

He beams again. 

“I knew there was something up,” you say, dumping your plate in the sink. 

“I made something else.” 

You lift your head in a rush. You know exactly what he’s gonna say before you ask. “You made–”

“Your favourite,” he says cockily, crossing his arms over his chest. “No biggie. Ave, you got room for dessert, babe?” 

“I think so. You might have to do that thing to my tummy.” 

Steve is a professional at post dinner tummy rubs. What is it about kids and their tummy aches?

After everything —Avery finishing her dinner, washing the dishes, drying and putting them away, turning on the heat for the night, gathering a load of laundry for the machine— Steve sits down in the armchair, and you sit in his lap. A bowl of dessert with two spoons on your chest. 

“If I’m too heavy,” you say. 

“You’re never too heavy, I hate when you say that shit.” 

“You always try to get me in your lap, that’s why.” 

“This is where you’re supposed to be.” He cuts into the ice cream with his spoon. “You’re not heavy. If you ever get too heavy for me, I’ll just get bigger.”

“I’d like to get smaller eventually.” 

“Stop it. You’re perfect.” 

You let your face rest above his shoulder. “Shut up.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, shut up.” 

“I’m never shutting up.” He offers you his spoon. The point of two was to make it so he didn’t do this, but he does it anyway, wiping the corner of your mouth when you pull back. “Messy.” 

“I can’t believe you made this.”

“I knew it’d make you happy.” 

You turn his face and kiss his cheek softly. A lingering kiss, trying to press affection into his every pore. “I love you.” 

“I know.” He shifts your weight, as though hoping to pull you closer despite a lack of space. This close you can see the freckles under his eyes and across his nose, just a couple, light brown and sparse. His eyes are relaxed, his eyelashes long in the corners and tangling with the ones at the bottom. What use does he have for such nice eyes?

“What are we gonna do with the rest of the evening? You’ve already showered,” you say, gaze back to your dessert. 

“I gotta give the bathroom a clean, and then nothing.” He puts his hand to your face, the very side of his palm against your cheek, framing you. He turns his hand completely and rubs your chin with his thumb. “I think I had one of those days where I really missed you.” 

“Like I’d been gone longer than I was.”

“Exactly.”

You hum with the pleasure of being liked so much and close your eyes. Predictable, Steve leans down to kiss you. It’s all he seems to do lately, a hundred kisses a day. 

“Okay, help me eat this so we can snuggle,” he says. 

“I’m not snuggling with you.” 

“Cuddle?” 

“No, don’t think so.” 

“A hug where we’re both laying down?” he suggests. 

“That’s far more reasonable.” 

He laughs, picking up his spoon again. Your face is cold without his touch, the other hand slipping down to your hip. 

When the dessert is done, he sets the bowl aside and pulls you against his, majority of your back to his chest, his face a heat at the side of your own. He crosses his arms over your stomach and holds it. 

“I wouldn’t mind doing this forever,” he says. 

“But who will look after our poor children?” you ask, letting your eyes slip closed in bliss. 

“If we have a couple more they can look after each other.” 

You like the sounds of that. The first part, not so much the second. “Just a couple,” you say. 

—

kbd au

[smileysuh]

sage & stardust - TEASER

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu holds y/n down by the wrists, size kink, mentions of possible bondage kink, heavy petting, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, oral (f receiving), praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.6k

🍭 aus. Fairy au, fantasy au, non idol. 

☀️ mlist + an. Okay, so, I’ve written sooo many fics on this blog, and lately I’ve been wanting to try things I haven’t done before. I’ve never done a legit small man fairy dude (who does become normal/large sized later) x yn in a fic before, so bare with me, because these two are such a delightfully domestic pairing. Without further adieu, I give you: blue-collar fairy Mingyu. 

Even you have to admit the space has ambiance. The solarium studio is a lovely part of the house, your favorite in fact, although, tonight, you’re feeling a little shy about your art strewn about.

“Did you paint all of these?” Mingyu asks, approaching your most recent work.

“Yeah, they’re uh, abstracts,” you explain. “I mean, I gather a lot of inspiration from nature, but it’s more a feeling than a specific thing that I like to paint, if that makes any sense.”

“It does,” Mingyu nods, leaning down to get a better look at your art. 

“My grandma, she uh, she was an artist too, and so was her mother, and she gave me the house because she knew I needed inspiration-”

“Maybe that’s why she gave you me too.”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you blink up at the tall man. “Uh… maybe.”

“So this cottage has a long line of artists and tinkerers,” Mingyu concludes.

“The line ended in my mother’s generation,” you sigh.

“That’s not true.” Mingyu looks down at you. “We’re here now.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.7k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr Friday the 22nd of November 2024

🔮 see what’s already available to read on my m.list

interact to be tagged when the fic is posted, reblogs and replies will be prioritized

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Listen I love the ‘dicks being ostracized from his family and self destructs’ trope in fics however

I would like an inverse just once (I could write it but I want this fic to be good so I can enjoy it and I am not the greatest writer) where everyone blows up at him and flat out lays into him and he just goes… okay… if that’s how you feel?

Takes himself off of the patrol routes and rosters. He’s off the emergency calls and his ‘call for city wide emergency’ has been down graded to ‘call for world wide emergency’ he’s no longer on comms with oracle

He stops offering assistance to the other kids teams, doesn’t send info for investigation and doesn’t go within 100feet of Gotham.

Takes himself off the den-mother, baby sitter, trainer for all the younger teams lost that involve any and all bats

In the beginning he vacates his apartment and temporarily moves in with Donna in New York and things are good because of course they are. They’re Dick and Donna a world doesn’t exist where they aren’t okay.

And then his presence in New York leads to a lot of the og core five titans interacting and they realize that they miss each other like hell and start to work together more and more. Until news sites are like ‘teen titans grown up??’ ‘Original titans spotted doing hurricane aid in Florida!’

Because Dick loves his family but he knows when to bow out. And he chose the family he made in the new teen titans.

And then one day one of the bats track him down in nyc and breaks into what is now Dick and Donna’s apartment and are ready to argue that they need him back and need him there for a huge Gotham wide event.

And Dick says ‘sure okay let me get my stuff and we leave in half and hour’ as soon as the first sentence is out

No convincing or begging or asking for money (cough Jason cough)

Dick is patched into their comms and he’s working efficiently except he’s not… acting like himself.

He’s collaborating with whoever they tell him too, no problem, he’s discussing ideal plans and co-ops and teams and how to best get it under control.

But he’s talking to them the way he talks when he’s offering aid to teams he’s not a part of.

Like the hero version of an acquaintance and no one can call him out on it because he’s doing good work. Work that’s on par with his work before this whole fiasco. He explicitly isn’t letting their personal issues affect his work.

He’s speaking but not talking

And Bruce remembers this… he’s probably the only one who does because last time he was the only one included. The last time Dick acted like this is when he first visited Jason and him after he had been fired.

Whenever Bruce was in the room and Dick was forced to speak with him, the conversation never strayed past business casual especially around Jason.

Batman and Nightwing got into screaming matches

Bruce and Dick were strangers

And now they’re back to this, 7 kids later, a million ends of the world stopped, they’ve bled together, cried together and clung to each other in pure relief after they managed to clutch victory.

And Nightwing was treating Batman Inc like a new team stepping onto the scene.

Once they’ve secured everything and managed to keep Bruce from self destructing and making it worse. Dick just leaves and tells oracle that he’ll send over his debrief in 3-5 business days and it was nice working with them.

And then he’s gone

No cave, no manor, no Alfred, no med-bay because Dick doesn’t stay places he’s not welcome.

And after they all talk about that and how weird it was and Bruce reveals Dick did this before when he was Nightwing after Bruce fired, where Dick Grayson didn’t know Bruce Wayne.

And one of the kids asks when he broke and stopped the act and Bruce just says ‘the day he found out Jason died’

And the Batkids kinda freak bc what do you mean?? What is he only going to come back when someone dies? Thats not? There has to be another way?? And Bruce is like yeah no idea sorry (bc he’s helpful like that)

So then Steph the next day resolves to go visit him, Tim isn’t the only professional stalker. And she finds Dick and Donna’s apartment and well it’s daylight and she’s in civvies she’s if she climbs in through the window she might get reported to the NYPD and she doesn’t wanna get arrested or shot to door it is!

And so she goes and knocks and Dick opens the door and just lights up

Something something this is such a nice surprise something something it’s so good to see you.

Dick had taught Donna how to make some of his mother recipes when they were kids. So now whenever they’re together for a long time they cook together.

So Dick who is usually living in a cluttered apartment with no clean dishes and an exclusively grab and go food is now trying to force feed her some of his cooking.

Because he picked up the habit again since he’s the better cook between him and Donna.

And it’s delicious and he wants to catch up and hear everything that’s going on in her life, is she working with new people, dating anyone? How is her relationship with her mother etc etc.

It’s a nice day and she stays late and never confronts him on anything until she sees how long ago the sun set and she needs to get moving.

He hands her paper with his number and makes her promise not to give it to the others or she will lose access to it, he offers to help her on a conditional basis as nightwing but only her, she can call him about the rest if it’s an end of the world or they’re near death and need immediate aid.

And that’s like the fic because the key to winning nightwings assistance is like breathing (optional) but if you’re Dicks family you have to care or else. He’ll love you and help you, when you need it but he won’t tie his life up with yours, he’ll spend his time with people who value his opinion and the person behind the mask.

Anyway cue all the Batkids trying to do what Steph did and fail because they’re neurotic shits who think bonding involves doing casework together or a steak out.

(The next person to crack it is Damian, completely unintentionally he has a fight with Bruce and can’t ask him how the fuck he’s supposed to solve this equation in the new stupid way they’re teaching him no he can’t use the old method they’re supposed to show their work so he pulls up to Dick and Donna’s in a ratty ass hoodie like plz wtf do you mean you work top down explain Grayson- and dicks like awww no problem kid)

[mercurycft]

𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 - 𝐋𝐖

## reader x leah williamson !! MINI FIC

hi pookies!! i’ve really been enjoying writing shorter and fluffier fics recently! somehow this ended up being a bit longer than intended! i hope you enjoy this! more to come. you’ll be able to find them under the “mini fics” section on my masterlist!! love always - RG x

2k words!

no warnings. pure in-love sweetness.

"so, what do you think, le?" you asked, eyes sparkling with excitement as you held up a newly-purchased jersey with the number six emblazoned on it.

leah looked up from her laptop, a smile playing on her lips. "it's perfect, lovie, just like everything else you pick." you replied with a sweet smile and a gentle eyeroll, folding the shirt neatly and pushing it to the side of the sofa which remains empty beside you.

the two of you sat in leah's living room, which as of a few days ago was now officially also yours too, cozied up beneath a blanket. you sat surrounded by boxes containing all of your beloingings, labelled by room and organised neatly into piles. re-runs of old shows playing on the tv ahead of you, casting flashes of colour across the room, overpowered by the lamp light from the corner of the room.

though you sat close together, leah had angled her body and screen away from you. tapping away on the keys with narrowed eyes of concentration. "what're you tip tapping away so furiously at?" you teased, lifting your head exageratedly to sneak a peak at her screen.

"hey, no peaking!" she quipped back, pulling the screen down to sheild it. "good things come to those who wait, love." she spoke after a second, lifting her hand and brushing her knuckles against your cheek gently.

"fine," you huffed, tilting your head to kiss her hand softly before turning back to the screen in front of you; attempting to drown out the noise of her tapping with the serene sounds of gavin and stacey.

the football season was in full swing, and your weekends were usually spent cheering from the stands, so a saturday in together was a rare but valued gift. you spent the time relaxing, allowing yourself to potter around. leah, on the other hand, seemed consistently distracted. whether that be by training, or whatever it is she seemed to be doing on her laptop or phone. you paid it no mind, aware of leah's growing responsibility. unbeknownst to you, that evening, leah had announced to the team her plans for the coming days.

you woke on sunday to leah leaning over you, training kit on and hair slicked into a ponytail at the back of her head. "good morning, love. im off in a minute, call me when you get up okay?" through the stirring of your sleep you murmured a small response and lifted to kiss her gently, before waving her out of the room.

it was past nine when you finally woke up fully. leah long gone and already at training as you made your way around the house carefree. after a swift call to leah, a lazy breakfast and a hot shower - you stumbled into the kitchen; towel still in hand and scrunching the last of the water out of your hair.

the sun shone through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow on the gleaming counters. it was quiet without leah's usual 'morning country session' as you called it, and the sound of her soft singing echoeing through the hall. you grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone.

your thumb froze mid-swipe when you saw a message from leah pop to the top of your screen. "hey, the girls keep bothering me about seeing you. wear your new jersey. love you x" you stifled a laugh at the thought of beth forcing leah to type and send the message, shaking your head softly and typing small reply.

you took your time getting dressed, slipping on the jersey adorned with leah's number six with a sense of pride. wearing it felt like a silent declaration of your support and love for her. as you made your way to the living room, the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house.

your face screwed together with confusion, taking a second to swipe your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans to check the time. half ten. "can't be leah then," you thought aloud as you made your way to the front door, you swung it open to reveal beth. stood in her kit and holding two take-away cups of coffee in her hands.

"good morning, my favourite wag." she spoke cheerfully, moving into the open space you had created by opening the door further to let her in. you shared a small hug as she came in, laughing at her comment.

"you know i hate when you guys call me that," you laughed, but shook it off, taking one of the cups from her as she thrusted them towards you. "you're the best, but can i ask what you're doing here and not at training?" you shut the door behind her as she advanced further into the house.

"i have a late start and leah said to come and get you because-"

"she took the car," you both said in unison, breaking into a small shared laugh over leah's predictability.

"give me two minutes and ill be ready to go, just have to go put on my jewellery."

you retreated back into the bedroom, as you reached for your necklace, the doorbell rang again. you huffed quietly to yourself, confused on who else could possibly be at the door.

"i got it," beth called from downstairs, opening the door.

"what was it?" you asked as you made it down the stairs, clasping the necklace around your neck and shaking your hair onto your back.

"just a parcel," she said shrugging, placing it on the kitchen counter and turning back to you. "ready?"

you nodded, grabbing your keys and checking for your phone one last time before flicking off the lights and locking the door behind you.

the car ride was quick, and you and beth chatted the whole way. once you arrived at the grounds, beth led you around to the side entrance, away from the usual doors at the front. "whats going on?" you questioned with a quizzical look, "leah said to bring you here." she replied with a seemingly unbothered shrug.

you followed her down the corridor and into the changing room, which was unusually quiet and empty. beth stopped you just before the double doors, forcing you to turn around and face her one last time. she smiled at you, with nothing over than love with a small hint excitement. "where is everyone? you lot are stressing me out." you laughed, attempting to break the confusing silence.

"they're all outside, probably running circles around your mrs." she teased, eyes flicked across your features and hair, then down to the jersey. you watch as a smile spreads across her features and she reaches for your phone out of your hands.

"you're scaring me, i dont want to go out there alone if everyone is out there!" you whined like an anxiety ridden child, taking a deep breath as beth pushed your hair off your shoulders and looked directly into your eyes.

"you'll be fine. trust me, go out there."

beth nudged you gently towards the doors, the sound of your heartbeat growing louder in your ears. you took a deep breath and stepped out onto the field, squinting against the sudden burst of light. once they had focused to the brightness, your eyes skimmed across the pitch searching for leah.

your gaze finally fell into the middle of the pitch where players and staff seemed to crowd around someone down. your face fell into concern when you realised leah wasn't standing with them, and instead they were stood around her.

"leah?" you called, eyes wide as you sped up to reach the group. the sound of your voice brought a hush over the crowd, who all shared the same concerned look as they concealed leah from your view. you tried to calm your breathing as you made your way closer, mind reeling with the worst possible scenarios of why leah is on the floor. "leah?" you called again, now close enough to reach for some of the girls to move them aside. as your hand extended to push past katie, the girls in front of you parted - finally giving you a full view of leah.

however, it was not the view you expected. you had expected to see her on the floor, injured and writhing in pain. instead, what you found had you stopped dead in your tracks.

leah, knelt on the grass, her eyes glued to yours. her hand outstretched, a small velvet box balanced on her palm and clasped between her fingers. you couldn't read her expression, and couldn't bring yourself to say anything. the world around you seemed to fade into the background as you stared at her, your eyes wide.

you watched as she took a deep breath and began. "i have loved you from the moment we met on this very pitch, during that first interview all those years ago. i have loved you everyday since and will continue to love you everyday for the rest of my life. since that first day, you have changed my life in ways i will never be able to explain to you. i knew from the first time you laughed at one of my stupid media trained jokes that i would marry you. so, im down on one knee, ready to love you forever. will you marry me?" leah's voice was shaky and hopeful, her eyes never leaving yours.

you felt like the air had been knocked from your lungs. your hand flew to your mouth to cover the shock that washed over your features. the crowd around you was silent, their eyes flicking between leah and you, their expressions a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

slowly, you stepped closer to her, the realization of what was happening settling into your heart. "are you serious?" you whispered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"as serious as i've ever been," she replied with a hopeful smile.

you dropped down to your knees in front of her, wrapping your arms around her and pressing a swift kiss to her lips. "yes," you choked out, the word barely audible but clear enough for the entire field to hear. the crowd erupted into cheers, their claps and whistles piercing the quiet air like a gunshot.

leah's face broke into a grin so wide it could've split her face in two as she watched the tears fall down yours. she brought the box closer to you, revealing the ring nestled inside. it was simple, a silver band with a small diamond in the center - but to you, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on.

you took the box from her, watching as she lifted the ring out and slipped it onto your finger. it was a perfect fit, as if it had been made just for you. "yes," you repeated, louder this time so that everyone could hear the conviction in your voice. "i'll marry you, leah."

the crowd around you grew closer as the teammates you had come to know so well rushed in to embrace you both. the warmth of their arms around you, the sound of their cheers in your ears. they wrapped around the both of you, all smiles and laughter.

as the congratulations died down, you took a moment to swat her shoulder with a stern look "i thought you were hurt!" you muttered, looking down at the ring sat perfectly on your hand, then looking back to leah who mirrored your wide smile. before you could continue back and fourth, the sound of renee's voice called everyone back to training.

"you two got something to celebrate," she said with a knowing smile, "but remember, we've got a game on tuesday." you both laughed, as well as the rest of the girls surrounding you as leah moved to give renee a quick hug. around you the team split back into their usual groups to continue with their session, but leah made her way back to you.

"mrs williamson. it suits you."

[kenromis]

⌦ .｡.:*♡ last night on earth

⌦ .｡.:*♡ MDNI 18+

⌦ .｡.:*♡ WARNINGS: jayce talis, smut, some plot if you squint, post act 2 arcane, SPOILERS

⌦ .｡.:*♡ NOTES: i used to HATE jayce in 2021 but.... now i need him bad. dilf jayce stand behind me NOW!!! my official tumblr return for jayce talis, 2021 me would've lost it.

Soft clamors in the night, bandaged hands trailing against the wall to find their way through the corridors of his apartment in the darkness. The only thing audible is the sounds of his labored huffs and grunts as he limps towards any door he could find himself to first.

Jayce’s hip finds itself colliding with an item that God only knows of, hearing the sharp crack as it hits his marble floors. He lets out a groan, his free hand moving to rub his temple in reaction to the harsh shriek that echoed through the hall. Why did he even think about coming here first and not to a place he had mapped out better in his mind– such as his laboratory. He couldn’t go back there though… not after Viktor’s betrayal.

He hears the sound of a switch, the halls being coated with a blinding, artificial lighting that he hadn’t seen in however long he had been stuck in that goddamned dimension. Jayce’s eyes squeeze shut as he pushes his back to the wall, sliding down with a hand over his eyes. Always the one to have a flair for such dramatic reactions.

“Jayce!” A worried voice exclaims, footsteps running to approach him and shield his sensitive gaze from the light. “Jayce, goodness, where have you been?”

He knows the voice all too well, his lovely partner who had thankfully heard his desperate attempts to find his way through his home.

Jayce couldn't mutter a response, arms immediately wrapping around the woman that stood above him and pulling her form to envelope his. He hadn’t even bothered to open his eyes, burying himself in the crook of her neck with a satisfied sigh.

“Jayce?”

“Yes, honey?”

Her hands moved to rake through his hair— something that had severely changed in his absence. Not that she minded, however, it was clear Jayce had seen hell and back with the way his touch searched for solace on her body.

She bit her bottom lip anxiously, fingers dancing in his locks in an attempt to soothe him. “Are you okay?” Her question came out a lot more worrisome than she had intended, feeling the shift of his head move to look into her eyes through the strands that covered his face.

What could he say? She was no scientist, and while she was intelligent, there was no possible explanation he could give without sounding absolutely mental. But, she knew his line of work, so maybe there was a chance she could believe the sputtering and string of stories he had to tell about his absence.

However, right now, he couldn’t bother. His head dipped to rest atop her breast that had only been covered by a silk robe— his robe.

She took that as a response, realizing his reluctance. “The beard is new,” she mumbled affectionately, her free nimble hand moving to stroke the hairs that sat on his chin. It was rough and clearly untamed, but she hadn’t minded one bit.

Jayce let out a chuckle, moving his head back to lean against the wall. He couldn’t keep still one bit.

“I think I like this look,” she cooed, moving her hands to both sides of his face to caress his sunken cheeks. As worried as she had been, she couldn’t express it— considering how quick it was to get Jayce worried himself.

“I thought you weren’t a fan of facial hair?” He joked, resting his own hand against hers, his thumb rubbing circles around the skin. His gaze moved to hers, staring behind his long eyelashes and biting back a small smile at the way her hands rubbed the newly formed hair. It was quite different from how clean and kept he had been before, and his eyes searched for a reaction.

“I may be able to get used to it,” her soft voice whispered out, “but, I would prefer if we continue this conversation in the lounge.”

With that statement, she removed herself from her glass and onto her feet, hand extended to help as much as she could to get the weakened man to stand tall. Her hand gripping his allowing him to use her as leverage before wrapping his arm around her shoulder to limp his way to the destination she had led him to.

Jayce’s body fell to the sofa, a heavy groan as his arm moved to his shoulder with a wince while a ‘careful’ was yelled toward him. His other hand moved to the top of his head, soft pants spilling from his lips as if he had just run a marathon.

“Gracious, what were you put through?”

A seat is plopped beside him and immediately his head falls to her lap— a position he finds himself in quite often with his partner.

“If only you knew, [Name],” he whimpered out, moving her hand to caress his face once more. The only comfort he sought was from the softness of her skin against his.

“Then tell me,” she whispered in a plea, moving his head to look up at her. Her hand cupped the end of his chin to force his gaze, her softer expression from earlier now turned into one of slight irritation.

And how couldn’t she be irritated? Piltover’s golden boy disappearing without a trace, days after an attack at a memorial? Her only assumption is Jayce’s greed for revenge, which would perhaps explain his current state and absence.

“I know I worry you,” Jayce mumbled, moving her hand to place it against his lips. “I don’t know how I can tell you what is happening without worrying you more.”

“You’re an intelligent man, I’m sure you can find a way.”

He mind replayed the events from only a couple of days prior. How at one point he had been with Ekko and Heimerdinger drinking tea in an attempt to murder his best friend and partner. How would she understand? How could she? The pain he was truly feeling deep down behind whatever joking remark he had made mere seconds before. How could he explain the war coming to Piltover?

“There is something big coming, and all I want to do is make sure I can protect you,” he whispered, closing his eyes to avoid the live reactions from his lover. “I can’t live without you, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you too.”

‘Too?’ What had that meant? [Name] was aware of Viktor’s condition so had that meant he had passed? But Jayce had told you about Viktor leaving before he had gone?

“Jayce, I don’t un-“ “I told you. I don’t know how to explain this to you.”

He hadn’t meant to sound cocky, or for his words to sound belittling towards her intelligence. Jayce had barely understood it himself, so why would he assume she could?

“I just need you to know that I am going to make sure I can protect you with all my might.” With that, his eyes fluttered open to look up at her.

Tears formed around her [eye color] eyes, biting his lip to hold in any sobs that threatened to spill.

“Hey, hey,” he sat up quickly, pulling her body close to his. Now it was his turn to comfort her.

His large hand found position atop her head, mimicking her comforting motions from earlier. His free grip had wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest as he felt the wetness of her tears on his blazer. Jayce’s shushes blended with her soft sobs, resting his temple against hers and mumbling apologies and words of comfort.

“We’ll be okay, [Name], I promise you.”

His head nudged hers backward, pushing her to look back up at him before placing a chaste kiss on her lips. Jayce’s lips were dry against her soft plump lips, his position halting as he soothed into the touch of hers. He had missed this. Her lips being one of the only things circling his mind as a reminder of what he was fighting to escape.

Jayce fought to pull away, cursing himself for using your innocence and fragility as an excuse to kiss you. What a scumbag he had become in just a few minutes he had spent with you again after what he imagined to be an eternity.

“I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

With that, her arms wrapped against his neck, placing her lips back against his. Their kiss moved in sync as Jayce’s hand found its way to the crook of her back, slowly pushing forward until he rested above her and her body placed against the material of his lounge chair.

A soft murmur escaped through their kiss, Jayce’s hand moving to the skin of her thigh that peaked through his robe. Oh God did he love seeing her in his robe, basking in his scent during his absence— waiting for him like a wife waiting for her husband in war.

“I’ve missed you so much,” [Name] whimpered, eyes trailing Jayce as his lips moved to her neck impatiently. She wondered if his debauchery was simply a distraction of the pain he was in, or if he had missed her just as much.

“I only thought about you,” he responded, teeth taking light nibbles against her skin. The roughness of his newfound beard brushed against her skin while her hands found comfort in his hair once more.

Oh how his hair was her newfound pleasure, oh how Jayce had felt a sort of fucked up appreciation for the arcane if it meant this was how his lover squirmed beneath him over something as simple as grown-out hairs.

His lips moved to the top of the robe where her chest slightly peaked from underneath, his teeth slightly pulling until he could get to the hidden jewels which he desperately longed for.

“Jayce…”

His golden eyes darted up to where her mouth pursed and her brows tightened. He lifted his own brow, giving a questioning look in response to her plea.

“Are you sure you’re in the position to do this?” She breathily asked, moving his unattended strands from the front of his face, combing them towards the back of his head. “You’re bandaged, you didn’t look good earlier. I don’t want you to strain yourself some m-“

Her words were cut off by his lips attaching to her breast, emitting a sigh from her lips. She hated how unfair he played, especially when it came to sexual pleasure.

God forbid she be concerned for her lover.

“J-Jayce, please.”

His head moved back, pushing himself to be at eye level with her.

“I feel better than I have in a long time,” he lied, “I want to spend this moment with you and only you.” His hand found its way up her thigh until it rested between its crevice. The tip of his finger danced against her underwear, hoping his attempt at seducing her would work.

“Can you just answer me something, please?” Her question came out sultry, unintentionally so.

Jayce’s brow had lifted once more.

“Are you truly okay?”

He smiled softly above her. It wasn’t every day someone would push away their own sexual pleasure to ask about the health of others. Maybe that was why he loved her so much, why he longed for her day and night and why the time spent away drove him to the brink of insanity.

The arms wrapped around him were what he craved.

A kiss was pressed against her nose, a small and melancholic smile tugging against his lips.

“I will be.”

[Name] gave a soft nod. A nod of understanding, of approval, of allowance for him to continue. Whatever made Jayce feel at peace was enough to satisfy her.

His fingers found their way wrapped around the band of her underwear, pulling it down enough until the pads of his fingers found their way against her core. They slide slowly, rhythmically, teasingly. It was almost as if he had been making up for lost time, even if it had only been a few days.

Jayce watched above, the way her teeth bit down on her lips and her eyes squeezed shut. He took that as a sign to continue, tracing her folds with his fingers along with a kiss to her jaw that slowly made its way downward back to his previous spot at her uncovered breast. His lip attached, teeth taking the bud between and grazing it together to earn a mewl.

How he basked in the noises he emitted from her behind closed doors. If only he could listen to the noise at every second of every day, like music to his ears. So melodic to his sinful ears, like a choir.

The way his name spilled from her lips was the only way he could stand hearing it, the only way he would dare to listen to someone speak to him with his full attention.

A finger dipped into her core, then another, slowly pushing in and out with the rhythm of her moans. His lips sucked and created pretty colored marks on the skin of her chest while his unoccupied hand moved to caress her untouched breast.

“Oh God…” She whined, pushing her head deep into the cushions, moving her arm to slither between the two. Her hand searched for the tent of his jeans, before gripping it harshly as a request.

Jayce was no idiot, he was a scientist after all.

He chuckled softly, lifting his head back up with a cocky smile. “If I knew growing a beard would have this effect on you, I would’ve done it long ago,” he joked, moving to sit on his knees and unbuckle his dress pants.

His comment earned an eye roll, [Name] propped herself up on her elbows to get a full view of the display.

Jayce’s new look screamed maturity, his freshly shaven look long gone from her mind now. He looked like a mess, yet for some reason, she had never been so much more attracted to him— despite being so in love. She wondered how he had managed to grow a full set in just a couple of days, but she was sure he would have an explanation for her when he was ready.

She watched as his fingers fumbled with his buttons with a nervous demeanor, lifting a brow of curiosity.

“Sorry, I just don’t know which parts of me grew hair…” he whispered, earning a laugh from his significant other.

“Do you really think I care that badly?” [Name] retorted with an eye roll, “I said before that I wasn’t a fan of facial hair, not pubic or chest hair,” she joked. “Plus, I already told you… I like this look.”

With that, his pants had been removed, falling off the couch as he moved to remove his shirt. His eyes stared into hers, taking occasional glances down to the robe as a hint to undress— which she happily understood.

His shirt had been removed, and a pool of chest hair that filled the blank canvas from before trailed down to where his pubic area sat. What a sight it was, to see a muscled man before her with a raggedy look.

Jayce’s hand found a way to his erection, inching closer with his knees to line himself up. His tip tapped against her core, a soft hiss coming from his lips. He knew he had to be careful, not just for his own physical wellbeing but hers as well.

His hand gripped the top of the sofa as he pushed in, panting heavily. His golden eyes stayed fixed on her face, watching it move around in pleasure. Watching as her lips formed an ‘O’ and soft mewls spilled from her lips— the same lips that had sobbed over his well-being a mere moment ago. Fuck, he wished he could keep her in that position forever, not because he wanted to be inside of her but because he wanted to protect her. He knew the only way he could truly protect her was as long as they were skin to skin, as one.

Jayce’s hips stuttered, pushing forward as slow as he could handle before moving his hips back to keep a consistent pace. His grip tightened on the coach, knuckles purple with how badly he wished he could destroy the furniture the two laid on— destroy her.

“Shit.”

His head found its way in her neck once more, hips rocking slowly and carefully with every noise she made.

“Jayce, please,” she whimpered, her fingers unintentionally gripping the dirty bandages on his back. “I need more.”

That was his cue to move faster. He hadn’t no longer cared about the injuries he faced, he just wanted to fulfill her needs and his own as quickly and efficiently as possible.

His free hand dug into her hips as he pistoned in and out of her, taking the skin of her neck between his teeth and sucking as hard as he can. He needed her to be reminded of him, of the effect he had, especially if it meant he wouldn’t be able to have her like this again.

“You’re too good for me,” he whined, lifting her thigh up to his waist. His pace quickened by the second. He had to show her what she meant to him, he had to show her heaven.

“I love you more than anything,” he spoke, gasps stopping his words mid-way as he thrust. “I only want you, only you.”

Her cries got louder, filling his once-silent apartment with her pleasured noises and expressions. [Name]’s grip on his shoulders signaled how close she was getting, and Jayce was unsure if he was ready to end it so soon.

He quickened, pushing himself towards his release before slowly drawing himself in and out. A smile on his lips as her pleas rang his ears, begging for him to pick up the pace and finish them both off— and so he did. His hips taking its final harsh thrusts before their orgasms spilled into each other, heavy pants from the both of them as their sweat mixed together.

Jayce let out a satisfied sigh, resting his head on her breast and pulling the robe off the floor to cover the lower parts of their bodies.

“Jayce?” “Yes, love.” “I don't know what you meant earlier but promise me, you’ll be safe out there.”

His eyes closed, his smile fading as his thoughts flooded and anxieties bounced around. “I promise,” he lied.

[syggwolf]

We DO deserve a fucking apology we'll never get, and not to soapbox, but lemme just throw out another fucking explanation of exactly why this shit keeps happening in the slim chance that it helps at least one person not fall for it: Fascism in ANY form will ALWAYS present itself as reasonable to YOUR sensibilities. It preys on a lot of things, your disgust reaction, your fear reaction, your own shame, your need for a tribe, your need to feel like you're part of something bigger than yourself, your need to protect your resources, your need to boost your own ego, your need to feel better than others, and in my opinion, the worst thing of all that it can prey on is your WANT TO DO GOOD. It turns that Want To Do Good against you, gives you "acceptable targets" and sets you loose, thinking that you're being a fucking super hero. Fascism will ALWAYS feel okay when you're doing it because you understand why you're doing it because you've been told why you should be doing it by someone who's fucked the narrative to make you feel good about hurting other people because they've convinced you that you are protecting people by doing it!! Fascism tells you: "The sort of people who value a sex scene in a movie are perverts, and perverts are dangerous, right? Oh god... What if they're a rapist and that's why they like that sort of stuff? Yeah, that trans girl that made that post about movies needing sex scenes... She pisses in a diaper, that's fucking disgusting right? And she likes weird fiction... And diapers are meant for kids... So... Yeah... Exactly, you got it! See you figured out what she was too! So you should trust your gut with these people, you're really good at spotting them! You know when someone is evil! And you DEFINITELY should not listen to a pervert explain themselves, because... Right, exactly, what's the point? They're just going to lie about it and probably say gross shit to you." Did you catch how that worked? It let YOU make the conclusion. It let YOU answer the questions and start setting shit in stone in your own mind. And the next thing you know, you're using fiction as proof, anything outside of your own comfort levels as evidence, you've become an emotionally reactionary fascist who genuinely believes you are making the world better, and safer, for the people you love, and who love you in return. Fascism doesn't begin with violence, it begins with a kind hand held out in your direction from someone else who believes they're helping. You might not even realize you've fucked up. Ever. That's how it works. That's how it thrives.

it's true and you should say it.

[luveline]

would you be able to do hotch’s adult daughter meeting the team?

—Hotch introduces his daughter to the team. 1.3k

“Aaron?” 

He’s grateful you didn’t call him Mr. Hotchner, but dad might not hurt. “Everything okay, honey?” he asks the phone. 

“Sure, um. This might be presumptuous and, like, embarrassing for me, but my last class got cancelled and I was wondering if I can come to your office today?” 

He feels his brows rise of their own accord. He checks his watch. You’ve picked a good day to want to come. “Sure, it’s quiet here.”

“You don’t want me to explain why?” 

“Presumptuous and embarrassing for me, I thought it might be to see your dear old dad.” 

You laugh funny on the other side, like Jack when he’s surprised. “Kind of. I do want to see you, but I was wondering what it’s like. In the FBI, I mean.” 

“You’re interested?” 

“In working there?” you ask. 

“It’s fine if you were, you don’t have to worry.” 

“It looks too intense for me, but… yeah, I guess I want to know what you do all day. I don’t know anything about that part of your life, and it’s such a big part of it.” 

He’s trying hard to say Yes to you at every opportunity, and this yes is easy. He sends a car to get you because he can, preparing himself for a lot of fawning and surprise. The BAU team, namely, Spencer, Derek, JJ, Emily, Dave, and Penelope, know who you are, but the office itself has little knowledge of you. There was chatter the day you turned up here unannounced. You haven’t been to the office since. 

He exits his office and finds Spencer, Emily, and Derek in the bullpen doing their paperwork, among other things. Derek’s peeling an orange. Spencer has his nose in a book despite a hand on the computer mouse. 

“Are you ready?” he asks them. 

“For what, the round table?” Emily asks. 

“Y/N’s coming into the office.” 

Three backs straighten in unison. “The kid?” Derek asks with a grin. He’s the only one who’s actually met you, and it drives the others mad with jealousy. 

“My kid, yes,” he says. He can’t help smiling. “She wants to see what we do. Please don’t show her anything with blood or gore, though. Please.” 

“Scout’s honour,” Emily says, standing from her desk to brush herself down. “Out of everything that’s happened when I started here, is it strange that this is the craziest?” 

“It’s up there,” Spencer says. 

“It’s certainly the nicest surprise I’ve had,” Aaron says, not quite missing the look Emily and Derek share even as he spots you at the office doors with your visitor’s pass clipped to the belt of your skirt. 

He walks to meet you, lest the sheer sea of faces intimidate you. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

You pull your jacket tighter around you, but it’s not a warm thing —if anything, it seems to be a stiff cardigan, grey and white plaid with ornate buttons. “It’s freezing out there.” 

“You’ll feel much warmer in a minute. The heat has been on high all day, JJ’s orders.” He slips his hand behind your back and shepherds you to the bullpen. “Honey, these are some of the members of my team. Supervisory special agents Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid.” 

“Emily,” Emily says, thrusting her hand forward to shake. 

“Spencer,” Spencer adds, managing to escape a handshake as Derek steps in. 

“Derek Morgan,” he introduces himself, shaking your hand with a warm smile. “I can see now why you were reluctant to tell me what you were here for.” 

Your smile goes sideways, like you’re startled, but pleased nonetheless, “I– honestly, I thought you’d make me leave if you heard what I had to say. It’s still not believable.”

“You sound like him,” Spencer says. “Not masculine, but–”

“Mellifluous,” you and Aaron say at the same time. 

“Exactly.” 

“Freaky,” Emily says, though her smile is brilliant. 

When Aaron sat the team down to tell them, it wasn’t because he necessarily wanted to. He loves you as any man loves their child even if he still has mountains to learn about you, and the urge to brag about you doesn’t go away, but he was hoping he wouldn’t have to answer so many questions about you at the time. As far as anybody in Aaron’s life knows, he and Haley haven’t ever split, it was a private parting, and so the first thing he sensed from everyone was a shift in image. “I didn’t cheat on Haley,” he’d said quickly, with a suffering sigh, “we were broken up at the time.” 

“Like, on a break?” Emily had asked, cringing. 

No, not really. Aaron assumed he and Haley were broken up permanently when he slept with your mother, but that brief relationship cemented for him that he loved his now-wife. Now that the team know he’s not an adulterer, the only thing he has while presenting you to them is pride. 

“Y/N’s class was cancelled today, so I’m going to show her around the office and give her some insight into what we do here,” he says, catching your attention with a grin. “It’s not as though you need today's lecture, hm? She’s nearly the top of her class.” 

You shake your head at him, beaming but mortified, “Don’t.” 

“If she didn’t work so hard–”

“He’s trying to get me to quit my job,” you tell the others. “He’s overbearing.” 

“We know,” Emily says. 

“I just think that now is a time for studying, and you’ve worked hard enough already.” 

You shift marginally closer to him. Most people wouldn’t notice, but Aaron does, and he suspects his team do to. “I’m fine doing both,” you say. 

He’s sure he’ll win the argument one day. For now, he escorts you through the office to the round table, then his office, pulling you into Rossi’s office for a charming hello and then to JJ’s, where you’re greeted with excitement and a disarming amount of love. Aaron forgets sometimes how much he and his team have been through together. You really are a good surprise. 

“Where are we going now?” you ask, following Aaron down a long corridor. 

He smiles. “You don’t have a sensitivity to high-pitched noises, do you?” 

Your confusion is plain on your face. Aaron takes you to a familiar door, placard reading in big, black letters: PENELOPE GARCIA, BAU TOP TECH AND DATA ANALYST. It’s surrounded by pink heart shaped stickers. 

He knocks the ajar door politely. “Garcia?” he asks.

“Sir?” Penelope says back. 

He eases open the door with his foot. Penelope turns in her chair, blonde hair in windswept curls, her lips painted a pink-orange. 

“Garcia, this is Y/N, my daughter.” 

Penelope’s mouth falls open. “I know who she is,” she says, nearly monotonous. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I’ve heard so much about you. I love your trinkets,” you add, nodding at her wild desk. 

Penelope gives Aaron a pleading look. He nods. 

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god!” Penelope says, rushing forward to throw her arms around you. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

You laugh and bow gently under her weight. “Me neither,” you say sincerely. 

“Oh my gosh. Oh my god,” she says, pulling away to smile at Aaron, “she sounds like you, you weren’t kidding! How is it possible that she sounds like you?” 

“Strong genetics?” he suggests. 

“I’ve never been this happy in my life,” Penelope says. 

He watches you take Penelope’s excited hand and thinks, that makes two of us. 

“You’re so adorable, I’m looking for Hotch in your face but you don’t look like him at all. But your clothes! You’re so cute, like a baby politician!” 

“I’m almost twenty three.” 

“So young,” Penelope fawns. 

[so-that-was-okay]

Okay. I was an editor in chief for 5 years in the past, and I've been a managing editor for 6 years. I had a whole team of journalists and writers, they made interviews of people some you would die to meet, and I interviewed artists who inspired the biggest names in Hollywood, people who are hard to book.

Those buddie clowns shitting on Katey's interview of Lou, only to praise the mediocre one of Oliver (not his fault) made by Pink News, are testing my patience.

Katey's interview is very good. She chose her angle according to where the show left Lou's character. She focused on Lou's experience of this scene and moment of the show as an actor, asked about the creative process, how he felt after such an unexpected turn of events. Note that she was interviewing Lou as an actor who played Tommy on 911. It's a different approach than if he was currently still on the show.

Then you have Pink News, who interviewed Oliver. The angle is supposed to be about Buck being bisexual but the title is clear: it's about buddie. It's about a fucking fanon ship. And Oliver has to answer for the umpteenth time to "is buddie a thing?". Oh and snacks. Yeah, very important question to know about what kind of snacks Buck likes.

So on one hand, you have a journalist asking actual questions after a big twist in an important storyline (Buck's canon love life is a core storyline of the show), and on the other, you have a shipper working for a transphobic queer website asking about a fanon ship.

And you know, actually, both are fine. This is the beauty of editorial. Choose your angle and work with it. It can be fun, it can be serious. But hammering the same question over and over is not an angle, it's an obsession, and not even one you can turn into something good apparently.

[hannieehaee]

HI!! how are you??

do you mind doing a poly seventeen relationship with vernon and chan and they spoil her alot?? (smut tho)

thank you!! i love you and your blog <3

18+ / mdi

content: bf!vernon and bf!chan, smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), handjob, mentions of m receiving oral, mentions of shower sex, etc.

wc: 886

a/n: i couldn't help but write them bickering bc i i just know they totally would in real life.

masterlist

"dude, what the fuck? i thought you guys were going to work today. hyung, you literally have a solo song coming up!"

chan's whines were not enough to get you to stop kissing vernon's neck as you cuddled into him on the couch, nor where they enough for vernon, apparently. his hands were very intent on feeling every inch of your tits, something which you did not want chan to take away from you.

"just did some recording from the home studio," was all vernon said in reply, hands now reaching your ass to pull you on top of him, lips finding yours in a kiss.

"i will not be a third wheel in my own home," he grumbled, "move over, you've had her all day."

he made his way to the couch, sitting on the other side of you as he fought vernon for your attention. after a bit of back and forth, vernon gave you one last kiss before leaving you in chan's arms, pleased enough to have had you to himself all day.

it's not like chan and vernon never shared you at the same time, but they just so happened to both be a little possessive. they preferred to take turns to ensure they could each be fully satisfied. and you? you had no complaints.

"i'm gonna go make some hoco. want some, baby?" he asked as he headed to the kitchen.

"mm, yes, nonnie," you interrupted a heady kiss from chan to respond.

"for me too!," said the aforementioned boy before kissing you again.

vernon chuckled and shook his head as he left, taking note that he should probably ask you to shower with him later. he wanted the last word after chan had his way with you.

~

"oh, but this is fine? weren't you complaining we took a day off without you literally yesterday?"

now it was vernon's turn to walk in on you and chan. however, this time you were located in the bedroom, with chan deep between your legs as you sat at the edge of the bed.

"sorry, baby. i might've convinced him to stay home since you'd be gone today," you mumbled in between gasps.

"c'mere, baby. my hand is all yours," you gestured him to sit next to you as your other hand held onto chan's head, leading his movements against your cunt.

vernon needed no further encouragement, undoing his pants as he walked over to bed and took a seat next to you, kissing you and letting his hands feel up your tits as you began working him with your own hand — god, he really was a boob guy.

"mmm, missed you today," he hummed between kisses.

"me more, nonn- ah! sorry, channie, fuck, you're being so good for me, baby."

wordlessly, he had demanded for attention while his tongue was deep in you. it was the classic competition for your affection.

"fuck, baby, keep doing that. gonna fuck you later, okay? fuck you to sleep, shit, yeah?", mumbled vernon against your lips. his orgasm was close, you could hear it in his voice. he must've been tired from practicing all day.

"mhm, shit. please," you pleaded before turning your attention to the other boy, "channie, shit, 'm gonna cum soon."

he murmured incoherent words into your folds, nose nudging a particularly sensitive spot as he sped up. you were so into your own pleasure you hadn't realized the poor boy had been using your shoe to hump in order to release his own tension.

you hoped he wouldn't cum from it. you had way better plans for him as soon as you got vernon off with your hand.

a high pitched cry was the last thing you voiced against vernon's lips, soon followed by his own grunts of pleasure as he dirtied your hand with his spunk. he was insistent in kissing you throughout both your orgasms, sometimes not even landing on your lips, but still within the ballpark. it was a disorganized mess, as it usually was with vernon.

chan waited patiently until the two of you got a fill of each other. he'd been enjoying the show you and vernon gave him, lip caught in his teeth up until he reached up to you and stole you away from vernon, instead giving you a taste of yourself through the remnants of his lips.

"stop, i'm the one you should be kissing right now," he complained as vernon chuckled beside you, getting up to get a rag to clean himself with.

"i know, channie," you coo'd, "i'll make it up to you, okay, baby?"

getting up, you held out your hand for him with a smile, leading him to the restroom connected to your room. before entering, you turned back to vernon, nodding at him to follow along and giggling when he lit up at the invitation.

"i'll suck off whoever washes my hair," you proposed once in the bathroom.

you were met with a whiny back and forth between both men, insisting they were the best at washing your hair and that the other had already gotten more than enough attention from you.

in the end, it didn't really matter. you had more than enough in you to satisfy both of them. you just liked to see them bicker over you.