#listen i had to gif it when i noticed it in the background

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

We meet again | In-ho x Fem!Reader | PT2

Summary: It was only one night for fun, you never thought you would see him again. Even less in a place like this one.

PT1

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Canon violence - Pregnant!Reader - Non canon background for In-ho - Use of (Y/N) - Angst - Protective!In-ho - Jung-Bae votes X because I say so -

Sleep came hard for you, after Gi-hun told the rest that players attacked each other last time, when the lights went off it only made you worried more.

It did not help that after the akward exchange In-ho decided to join the group, even if he used that time to also taunt Gi-hun (at least in your opinion), he gave you space and you mentally thanked him.

Jun-hee pierced him with a look only a woman could give, it was like she doubt him and also, she was sure he was in fact the father of your baby, which only made things worse.

During the night your bed shifted when another body took a seat, you moved quickly going to call for help but a hand covered your mouth.

The stoic look from In-ho met you in the dark, even if he was not putting a lot of pressure on your mouth. You did not like it.

You removed his hand and went to lie again, giving him your back but he was determined to talk to you.

"You dont need to talk to me, I just came to make sure you two were safe" He started, you could not see it but his eyes were full of adoration towards you and your belly. "I dont think others will attack us but I still needed to be besides you, if you let me"

You did not give him a response, letting your mind wonder over the dangers that could come, you felt him starting to move, most likely to go but your hand took his.

"Stay" After a small pause you added "Please"

And he was more than happy to oblige.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

The morning came faster than what you wanted. The bed was uncomfortable to say the least, and most part of the night you were cold.

A centrain warm had woke you up but a quick "shh" made you go back to sleep.

You now noticed a extra blanket over you.

"(Y/N), how did you sleep?" Jun-hee asked, she looked like she needed more sleep.

"As best as someone can with this beds" You said knocking on the bed making her let out a small smile.

"Looks like someone is watching over you" She said pointing at the extra blanket.

You made a face at it but nodded, if it was better for the baby then you would allow it.

"We can share it tonight if you want" You offered her who smiled and bowed thanking you.

"Attention players, we will now start the next game. Form a line a follow one guard to the next area" The voice of a Guard filled the room making you nervous to see what was going to happen.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"This things does not get easier" You whispered to yourself as you claimed the maze of stairs, you had to admit the colors were cute but the energy you needed for them was not something you were looking to use.

What if it was another game with running ? You would need your energy for it. You could not waste it on these dam stairs.

In-ho had positioned himself in front on you and would look back to make sure you were following.

"You can use my shoulder if you need help" He said stopping and almost making Dae-ho hit your back, but he was keeping a distance in case you needed to rest.

"Im fine" You said between hard breaths going to walk again on your own only to feel In-ho's hands around you, making you lean on him so you would use less energy and tired yourself less.

"I dont remember you being such a complicated woman" He whispered to you, making sure no one could listen.

"Well I dont expect you to remember most, we were drunk when we left.."

But In-ho moved his head with a small smile "Trust me, I remember most of it. Our conversation at the bar and the events after we left. I havent been able to stop thinking of these"

A shiver ran down your spine but you ignored it.

"Well I dont believe you, tell me something specific i said that night" You kind of demanded him

"You said how you loved the town, loved seeing the same faces, there was a older woman who lived two blocks from you. She would gift you milk and eggs. You liked seeing the kids play after school and would even take care of some when their parents had to leave for work. You loved that town"

You got quiet, it was true. You had said that, and it was true, you did love the town and its peopel, thats why you had to leave, to protect them.

"Alright, I will admit im impressed" You responded leaving out a small smile "You do have good memory" You noted

"For you ? Yes, yes I do"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"The next game will be a race of six-legs, players please form teams of five, since we have a odd number one team will have six players in it"

The voice announced

"Could they dont think on doing a different game?" Jung-Bae asked the rest of you "I mean, no hard feelings but would it not be more complicated with one more?"

Gi-hun not so discreetly gave him a hit on his side "Shut up we are six" He said and Jung-Bae blushed in shame. 

"Sorry! I did not mean to say it like that"

"Its fine" In-ho said calming him down "We get it, it may be difficult but we can do it, we have our ex winner with us"

Gi-hun scratched his hair "We did not play this last time, im as lost as all of you" He admitted

"Wow must suck to be you!" The voice of player made all of you look, Player 009 a young male said "Not only are you six but you also have two pregnant woman, talk about bad luck. With the six of you out the price will go up in no time. Well if they count the babys then maybe even more"

Out of instinct your hand went over your belly and the other took the hand of Jun-hee who looked as scared as you.

In-ho took some calculated steps towards the player who seemed to get pale when he finally undertood who he was, the same guy who had break a fight last night with no sweat.

"Hey, why dont you lose yourself like a small rat? And im being unfair to rats to compare them to you" He said tone cold and out of emotion.

The player lost himself in the crowd not wanting to face In-ho.

Butterflies flew in your stomach at his words, even if he was not defending you directly, his protective side made you blush and almost smile.

Almost. You had to supress it since Jun-hee was looking at you like she knew something.

"Well, we should see how we will line ourselfs" Gi-hun said making all of you form a circle, "(Y/N) and Jun-hee will need help so-"

"I can walk fine" Jun-hee interrumped him "I can go in one of the corners, (Y/N) will need more help"

Gi-hun nodded at her "Then, you, Jung-Bae will be next, Dae-ho, (Y/N), In-ho and myself" He ended watching all of you "Does it sound good to everybody"

Before you could protest the voice spooke again

"We will be playing a race of six legs, in order to advance you must complete the following games within five minutes and cross the line. If you dont you will be eliminated"

"Games...what games" You asked to no one as the voice went on

"The games you must complete are ddakji, biseokchigi, gong-gi, jegi, and spinning top, please choose among yourself who will play which game"

"Wait, that means one of us wont have to play" Dae-ho pointed out and all nodded.

"(Y/N) You should stay out of the mini games and focus on following the rest of us" Gi-hun suggested looking at you.

You bited your lower lip, you felt like a burden to them, no only being a extra player but also not being able to play with them.

"No, I can play. If there is a game any of you feel less confident in..."

"I agree with Gi-hun" In-ho interrumped you. "It was difficult for you to claim the stairs, its better if you focus on one thing at time"

"No, that was a bad moment, I can-"

"I also agree" Dae-ho cut you off "I have sisters and saw them pregnant before, its better if you dont move to much or stress"

"Jun-hee its pregnant too and I dont see any of you worried" You said almost screaming

"(Y/N) im less pregnant than you...and I saw it too. You had problems with the stairs, dont worry over me, I can do it"

"Think in your baby" In-ho whispered "Think in our baby" He added in a lowered tone.

"Fine, thanks for your help guys" You said truly grateful.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

The first two teams did not make it

You closed your eyes refusing to look at the dead bodies.

The first team that made it had all of you screaming for them, you even hugged In-ho without noticing.

However he did and hugged you with subtle force, using that chance to touch your belly on its side.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"Remember, focus on breathing and follow us, you can do it" In-ho said to you as your team and other one were the last two to play

"If you need to rest just support yourself on me or In-ho" Dae-ho added giving you a encouraging smile.

And like that the race started.

Jun-hee won easily the ddakji, Jung-Bae nailed it hitting the rock on first try.

When it came to Dae-ho's turn all of them made sure that both you and Jun-hee moved onto the floor slowly.

Your heart was beating fast as you saw Dae'ho play, even if this game was one girls used to play you were never good with it. In fact no one of your young friends used to be.

So your suprise was big and more was your happiness as you saw him complete it on first try.

The six of you advanced, the guard went to give you the spinning top but In-ho took it instead. You swear you saw the guard flinch under his dark stare.

Everybody was hyping him, even you, after all you all got three games in a row nothing could-

And he failed. All of you moved so he could do it again.

Only to trow it towards yours back.

After getting it back he started to have an episode, no wonder feeling nervous because of how much time he was making all of you lose.

"Hey! IN-HO!! Calm down just breath, try with your other hand, we still have time" You said pulling him towards you.

Something flicker in his eyes but you could not understand what it was.

He did as you told him and finally he passed.

The last game was in the hands (or feets) of Gi-hun who almost loses but In-ho's quick thinking saved all of you making your team pass and cross the line.

The celebration was short lived as gunshots were hear, the other team did not make it.

"Its ok, you two are safe" In-ho whispered to you once more before a guard started to take all of you back.

However the place seemed...different ? And by different you mean almost no stairs, did the guards suddendly get a heart ? You would not question it, like you Jun-hee was grateful and smiled at you once you two made it into the room.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"Cant believe these survived" 009 said with a frown not beliving it.

If the price had a chance on going up it was with the dead of either you or Jun-hee.

"Congratulations on winning this game, we will now calculate the price and proceed on voting"

"I hope we win this time" You told Jun-hee who nodded alongside you.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"We should use the restroom now that we have a chance" You told Jun-hee who accepted and so both of you left your male companions who themselfs went to their own restroom.

"I cant believe we lost again" You said hitting the door of the stall getting some looks from other circle players but no one said a thing. Maybe they pity you because of your pregnancy but not enough to end the dam games.

"Dont stress too much" Jun-hee tried to comfort you even if herself was scared.

You took some deep breaths to try and calm yourself down, thinking in your baby.

I can do it. I can play again, I must play again.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

The six of you reunited once again waiting for the terrible food the guards would most likely give.

"Hey Dae-ho, how were you able to win on first try?" Jung-Bae asked trying to ease the tension since all of you had bothed X

"Well, as I said I grow up with four sisters. And they would play it all the time so I ended up learning a few tricks" He commented

The small talk went towards different topics, nothing too personal just something to pass the time.

You were between Jun-hee and In-ho who had sit closer to you but you did not mind and even invited him to move closer.

"I wish the food its not as bad as the one from last night" You said getting a groan from Jung-Bae

"I miss my meat, I would kill for one piece of well coked meat" When all of you just looked at him he muttered "Sorry bad wording"

"I would love some cake, maybe chocolate cake and...popcorn" You said rubbing your belly

"Its that what they call cravings?" Jung-Bae asked, even if his ex wife was once pregnant he did not really remember much of her time with it.

"Yeah, this is not the worse one" You laughted making In-ho softly smile besides you.

"What was the worse one?" Dae-ho asked curious

"One night at 2 a.m. I woke up crying, I asked my roomate to get me squid and ice cream, she went to the store bless her heart but then I asked her if she could mix it all"

The horror from their faces was priceless.

"I havent had any weird craving" Jun-hee said smiling at your story "They better start once we are out of here"

"Your roomate sounds like a good person" In-ho commented, he was glad you had someone to rely on while he was away and did not know about your pregnancy, he would have loved to be the one to get waked up by you to make him go and buy you different types of food.

"She was" You agreed "She saw me having a hard time and offered me a place to stay so we could divide rent. Thanks to her I was able to get better food. Saddly she had to leave Seoul because her sister needed her"

In-ho was now confused. Seoul? What were you doing in Seoul? Were you not a local in that town? Why did you move? Even when you knew you were pregnant?

He had so many questions but would have to wait till a better moment.

"Players, we will now start serving dinner" A guard say, all of the players went to get in line.

As you waited In-ho stood behind you and used that time to talk to you

"Why were you in Seoul?" He asked confused and worried.

You turned a bit towards him, not wanting everybody to hear your talk "My brother left a debt, escaped the country, and since im the only blood relative alive it fell on me" You explained him. "I would have loved to raise my kid in that town, but the load sharks did track me down and said they would made the town suffer if I did not make monthly pays. I could not put them in danger so I left"

In-ho was furious, not only were you forced to face such a hard time alone. Your excuse of a brother left a debt on you, not caring what your situation was.

You must have been so scared, sad, no women deserves to go by a special time like pregnancy like that.

He was also furious with himself. He should have acted faster and track you down, he would have know sooner you were pregnant and would have make things different. He would have payed that debt, making sure you were well assisted and not lifting a finger, only resting like you deserved.

The guilt was eating him alive.

"Im sorry, I should have been there" He said and for once in the two days that had passed his voice was full of sincerity and vulnerability "Im really sorry (Y/N) you should not have to go by that"

You did not say a thing back, trying to stop the tears that wanted to fall.

"I managed, and its not your fault. I was angry at your for sometime but then I just stopped being angry. It was bad luck"

"It was also back luck that you got yourself pregnant?" He asked now a bit worried about what you thought of it.

You stopped and turned completly to face him.

"No. That was not bad luck at all. Yeah I would have loved to have someone besides me...to have you with me" His heart fell at your words, his mind racing with ideas on how to protect you in the next game "But it was never something bad, I love this baby, I want it to be healthy and to live a good life"

"I will be with you from now on, I promise I wont go anywhere" He said taking your hand in his in a silent promise

"Next" The guard called making you let go of his hand and take the food the guard was giving, before you could go the guard stopped you and gave you a small plastic bag with pills.

You took it not sure what it was.

As you walked towards the group you read it "Vitamins for pregnancy" You almost fell in suprise and walked a bit quicker towards the group but more specific towards Jun-hee who seemed go be waiting for you.

"(Y/N) Did they..." she trailed off showing you the same bag of pills

"Yeah. Do you think they had a change in heart?" You asked taking a seat besides her.

"I dont know but I wont question it" She said opening the cartoon milk and swallowing the pills. You did the same starting to feel better.

"(Y/N), Jun-hee you two can have my milk" Jung-Bae said almost forcing you to take it.

"But-"

"You two can also have mine" In-ho said appearing and giving you his own "Like that you two will have enough energy and your babys will be healthy"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

It was almost time for the lights to go off once again. Jun-hee and You shared a bed in order to share the blankets, the other four insisted that you two rested and that they would keep watch.

When Gi-hun woke up In-ho to take turn he would take some times to glance at you. His heart softening at the sight of your sleepy face and your belly under the blankets.

How much did he want to have you back in his room, in a most comfortable bed. He would have to leave you during the day but would return to cuddle you in the night. Would talk to your belly saying to it just how proud he was, and how happy its existence made him. He wanted to pull his ear against it, try to listen to it or feel it kick.

Soon, he would make sure you survived the next game and will get you out of the games.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Tags:

@maria-trisha @blueyesuguru @imenekiki @victorie767 @futuristicdefendorfart

Blue = I could not tag you 😞

[ch6rm]

♱ ࣪˖ date night — chris sturniolo

. . . you're caught up in a terrible date, and a rescue from chris turns into something more than just a friendly favor.

˖ warnings. smut (fingering, no actual p in v, implied sex), confessing feelings kinda(?)

˖ soph's note. first one shot, and whoever requested this im so sorry it took forever ����

the restaurant was a cozy italian place, tucked in a quiet corner of the city. candlelit tables, soft music playing in the background, and a warm basket of breadsticks in front of you—it was exactly what came to your mind when you thought of a perfect date. tonight was anything but that. it would’ve been perfect, if only the person sitting across from you wasn’t so insufferable. you felt like you were being held hostage, forced to listen to him talk about himself and nothing else. your friend was a horrible match maker.

within five minutes of sitting down, he’d managed to interrupt you twice. you sat across from him, trying to force a polite smile as he launched into yet another story about himself. here we go again….

“oh, and i’m super into traveling,” he continued, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “but only first-class, you know? i work too hard to settle for anything less.” how had we even gotten to the topic of traveling?

“oh…” you nod absentmindedly. gosh, this guy was a jerk. you glanced around the restaurant as he spoke, hoping the waiter would interrupt with the check.

he obviously didn’t notice your lack of enthusiasm as he dove into yet another story, leaning forward in his chair enthusiastically. how many stories was this guy pulling out of his ass? you fought the urge to roll your eyes. you’d been here for over an hour and he’s barely asked you a single question all night.

“anyway,” he said, waving a hand, “enough about me. what do you think about my watch?”

you blinked, staring at the obnoxiously large gold watch on his wrist. “it’s… nice?”

“right?” he grinned, clearly fishing for compliments. “cost me a fortune, but hey, i deserve it. gotta treat yourself, right?”

you tried to stay optimistic, but as the evening dragged on, you could feel yourself mentally checking out. when he started boasting about how many instagram followers he had, you knew you were done. you needed an escape.

forcing another smile, you reached for your phone under the table, sending a text to chris, hoping he could save you from this nightmare of a date. you: can u please pick me up? this date is a total disaster

you press send, fingers anxiously tapping on the table as you await chris’ response, the man in front of you too caught up in his life story to notice your anxious glances around the restaurant. finally, your phone buzzed.

chris: wya?

you sent him the address, feeling a rush of relief knowing you were gonna be out of here soon. there was so much precious time wasted on this stupid date, and you mentally cursed yourself for even giving this guy a chance.

ten minutes later, you spotted chris’ car through the window. you began to speak, cutting the guy off mid-sentence as you stood abruptly, grabbing your purse. “im really sorry, i’ve got to go,”

“what? why?” he looked genuinely confused, furrowing his brows as he saw you getting ready to leave so sudden.

“something came up,” you lied, giving him a sympathetic look, already heading for the door before he could say another word. chris was leaning against his car, arms crossed, his expression one of amusement as you both got in the car.

“rough night?” he asked as you approached.

“you have no idea,” you groaned, slipping into the passenger seat. chris climbed in after you, pulling away from the curb. almost immediately, you launched into a rant, frustration bubbling over as you spoke about everything that went wrong. chris listened, feeding into your frustration as he let out a sarcastic remark every now and then.

eventually, your complaints died down, and with nowhere else to head, chris pulled into an vacant parking lot as the car was engulfed with a comfortable silence.

“thanks for coming to get me,” you say, glancing over at him. “i couldn’t handle another second there. he was driving me insane.”

chris chuckled, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. “‘s no big deal, really.”

you give him a soft smile, glancing around the empty parking lot. the only light came from the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp. for a moment, neither of you spoke. you shifted in your seat, looking over to chris as his fingers stilled against the wheel. you couldn’t help but notice the way the light hit his face, accentuating his cheekbones and jawline. you stared for a second longer before your voice broke the silence.

“but seriously,” you begin, “you’re always there for me. i really appreciate that, chris.”

chris turns to you fully, his expression softening at your words. “of course,” he says, his voice quiet, “i’ll always be there for you. ‘s cause i care about you. you know that, right?” he looks over at you, and the sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten.

“i know,” you nod, looking away from his gaze, “i care about you, too.” you feel a rush of heat rise up to your cheeks as you speak. why were you getting so flustered?

something shifted in his expression as you said that, his playful demeanor no where to be found as your eyes met his again. “you’re not just saying that?” he asked, leaning in slightly, his hand resting on the steering wheel.

“no,” you murmured, the word catching in your throat. you watch as his gaze dropped to your lips for a split second before darting back up to your eyes, and you found your pulse beginning to quicken.

“okay, cause i mean it. i care do about you—a lot." his voice lingered on the last word, and the way he said it made you feel a way you couldn’t quite explain.

you swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. his eyes were locked on yours, and you felt unable to look away. it felt like he could see straight through you, past all your nervousness and hesitation, and straight to the way your heart was pounding.

“chris…" you started, but his name barely left your lips as he leaned in, his hand slipped from the wheel. you felt his fingertips brush lightly against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine.

"tell me to stop," he murmured, his voice low and his breath warm against your cheek. his eyes flickered to your lips again, lingering this time. but you didn’t tell him to stop.

his lips met yours, tentative at first, like he wanted to make sure this was real. but when you responded, your hand moving to cup the side of his face, his hesitation disappeared. the kiss deepened, and you soon felt yourself being pulled onto his lap, now straddling him. warmth flooded through you as he gripped your waist, fingers digging into your hips. you felt the kiss becoming needier, his hands moving to pull you closer, deepening the kiss. your hands find their way to his hair, softly tugging at the strands as he lets out a quiet groan into your mouth. his hands moved to your thighs, rubbing up and down before they slipped under your jean skirt to tease around the soft lace of your underwear. chris pulls away, beginning to pepper kisses down your jawline and to your neck as his fingers inched closer to your clothed core.

his middle finger delicately brushed over your cunt, feeling the wetness seep through your panties as you let out a gasp, your hold on him tightening.

“you want me to stop?” he murmurs into your neck, beginning to add more pressure with his fingers. you quickly shake your head, mumbling out a desperate ‘no’ before you feel him slip two of his fingers into your panties, groaning at the feeling of your wetness. you let out a moan as he teases your entrance, slipping his two fingers inside you effortlessly.

“fuck,” you breathe out, and chris begins to pump his fingers into and out of you, curling his fingers as he elicits another moan from you, your grip on his hair tightening.

chris leaves hot and opened mouth kisses on your neck—the pace of his fingers quickening. he continued to bite and suck at your neck in response to your whimpers, his free hand coming up to squeeze at your tits as you bucked your hips into his hand, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap.

“i’m gonna cum, chris,” you whine, your head falling against his shoulder before you felt him remove his fingers, bringing them to his mouth as he tasted your arousal, leaving you whiney and needy for more.

chris patted your hip, urging you to get up as he spoke, “backseat, now.”

© ch6rm

[eggs-attorney]

[<<< First] [< Prev]

Reiker: (Well, the battered pieces on the legs definitely aren't normal. Come to think of it, they kind of match with the ones in the other photo...)

Reiker: (Given the background of the photo Flash took, it's likely that this was at the maintenance appointment, but why wouldn't she fix his legs? That's gotta be part of the job description... That, and Yanshu doesn't seem like the type to be friends with a spy. Let me see if there's anything-)

Reiker: (... Wait, on the autopsy photo! That mark…)

Reiker: I'VE GOT IT!!

Rythen: Tch�� Usually the turn of phrase is "objection", my dear boy.

Reiker: I'm not going to object to my own client's statement, but I am going to amend it using evidence!

Rythen: This really is an "anything goes" trial, isn't it…?

Reiker: Just… Listen, I was able to find another one of those marks on Flash's body.

Eggman: Oh? So you're saying even more of this Robian's parts were counterfeit!? Wonderful! NOT GUILTY!

Reiker: (If he didn't look so fierce, I'd joke about taking him up on that…)

Reiker: If you look here, you can see that mark, and If you look at it a little closer… I think I can tell exactly where those parts came from, and it definitely wasn't a spy.

Eggman: Just spit it out, Strait.

Reiker: Yanshu made Flash. That's why she made sure she was the one doing his maintenance, that's why she let him leave without replacing the counterfeit parts, and most importantly, THAT'S WHY SHE COULDN'T HAVE KILLED FLASH!

Yanshu: AHH!!

Eggman: Yanshu, is this true!?

Yanshu: P-p-please don't have me roboticized, s-sir! I promise I'm not a spy!!

Yanshu: It'sJustThatIMadeHisAIAndIHadHimInMyComputerAndMyWatchAndHeGrewAndIWasLonelyAndIGotAttachedAndWantedSomeoneToHugAndHeSaidHeWouldIfHeCouldAndItWasSoSweetAndIThoughtAboutItAndGotIdeasAndGotCarriedAwayAndI-!

Yanshu: [Sniff] I… I figured n-no one would miss a few recycled p-parts… It made him so happy... P-please, I'm so sorry!

Eggman: … Why on Earth do you think I'd have you roboticized?

Yanshu: B-… Because I used your parts…? I-I took them out of the disposal bin and modified them myself and I-… [Hic] My manager told me that stealing parts is one of the worst things I could do!

Eggman: I certified each and every one of my organic staff personally. As much as I prefer robots, you and your cohorts getting creative making working parts out of whatever scrap I leave behind means I don't have to. Do you have any idea how time consuming it is recycling all this junk?

Yanshu: Y-you... But he-! Ooogh...

Reiker: Mr. Payne, given this enlightening information, I hope we can agree to a not guilty verdict here?

Rythen: Ha! As if! You really don't see this for the petty farce it is? Do you forget I have an eyewitness to the crime!?

Reiker: Ah yes… That would be Yanshu's manager, right?

Rythen: Indeed. In fact, I'd like to call Mr. Axel Bolton to the stand to testify on what he saw that day!

Reiker: Good. I have a few questions for him myself…

Rythen: Can the witness state their name and occupation?

Axel: Axel Bolton, Head Robo-Tech for the Main Division.

Reiker: Are you… Supposed to have that in here?

Axel: Sorry, tinkering helps my thinkering. Killing two birds with one stone.

Reiker: (Tinkering helps his-... Is he a child?)

Eggman: That's the trademark efficiency I hired you for! Now then, can you testify to the actions you saw Ms. Yanshu take that day?

Axel: Happy to!

Testimony 4: Maintenance Supervision

1:) So I had just gotten back from lunch. Yanshu was the only one working, so I decided to go check on her.

2:) I went over and immediately noticed the weird personality core in the E-5000 she had.

3:) The screws weren't ours, and she was panicking. I told her to look for some other tools while I took a crack at it.

4:) She couldn't find any, and my next appointment came along, so I told her to keep at it and left.

5:) When our shift ended, I found the maintenance sheet on my desk with no note! Or parts!

6:) As per protocol, I dropped everything and chased after the 'bot, but when I arrived… It was too late.

Reiker: (We shouldn't still be talking about this, but I feel like he's already slipped up with his wording here… I should take advantage of it and point out the error!)

[Next >]

[sophsun1]

#justin was not lying when he said brian taught him everything except how to dance

[potter-imagines]

Brat (Satoru Gojo x Reader)

Prompt: Satoru and his girlfriend Y/n are in an argument over his celebrity crush on Inoue Waka. Y/n is ignoring Satoru which absolutely drives him crazy.

Pairing: Satoru x reader

Warnings: some swearing, light light light smut (making out), gojo being gojo

Word Count: 7k

Notes: this is set broadly around season 2 episode 2 plot, with some clear changes from the original episode. riko and suguru are included.

“You changed your home screen?” Suguru commented nonchalantly. He took notice of the sudden alteration to his friend’s phone almost immediately. The difference wasn’t hard to spot seeing as the last two years all Satoru had used for his background images were various photos of his girlfriend, Y/n, whom he loved showing off.

Suguru was accustomed to the photos being circulated in a never ending pattern, Y/n and Satoru at the beach, Y/n in a scandalous position she beat him into removing, Y/n sleeping on his chest, Y/n and him sharing sweets, Y/n on her birthday grinning widely as she sat in front of her cake, the couple doing mud masks together, Y/n in front of the eiffel tower, and so on, however it was entirely new for him to see the famous, bikini clad Japanese model as his friend's home screen instead of his girlfriend. Suguru’s brow was raised as Satoru chuckled to himself.

“To Inoue Waka.” Gojo smiled in triumph, like he was in some war that he had finally found the upper hand in. “Y/n and I are in a fight- it’s certain to get a reaction out of her.” 

Despite his explanation, Suguru found himself lost in confusion. Only a night prior to leaving for their mission to protect and deliver the star plasma vessel, Geto had been sitting in attendance as he witnessed the couple's one of many bickering sessions. He really couldn’t blame Y/n much, seeing as he also found himself disagreeing with the white haired prodigy on the regular as well, yet this fight was one hundred percent, without a doubt in his mind, Satoru Gojo’s fault. Being as the argument was his wrong doing, Suguru couldn’t understand why his friend would sink himself deeper in the grave with his strong willed girlfriend rather than admit he messed up. And he certainly couldn’t see how an image of another woman- a model their argument steamed from, in a bikini too tight her boobs were practically over spilling from, would help his case.

The pair seemed to forget where they were until the young voice of the vessel of Tengen-sama herself reminded them of her presence. 

“Listen to me!” Riko shouted, irritation lacing her words. The young girl was set to explode off on the boys like a firecracker for their rude behavior in dismissing her heartfelt declaration on becoming one with Tengen-sama and Tengen-sama one with her, when suddenly the mention of the feminine name caught her attention. “Wait, Y/n?” She questioned. Riko didn’t see another female insight besides Kuroi but she sure hoped there was a sane female mind among the brainless men sitting among her. 

At her words, the man with hair white as snow leaned against the couch and ran a hand along his face. He narrowed his gaze, giving the girl a leer as if he found it ridiculous he had to explain who this Y/n was to her. 

“My strikingly beautiful, insanely stubborn, bratty, gorgeous girlfriend.” He moaned as his head fell back against the sofa, like the explanation was difficult enough. Through his dark rimmed glasses Gojo looked over to Riko, changing the topic all together. “I bet you don’t have many friends if you talk like that.”

“We won’t have to feel bad sending you off.” Suguru muttered. 

“I talk normally at school!” She expressed in an exacerbated tone, then quickly stepped forward pointing an accusing finger in the white haired man’s face. “And it’s you who shouldn’t have any friends! You certainly don’t deserve a girlfriend if you’re calling her a brat behind her back, you should be ashamed of yourself!” She reprimanded. 

Suguru lifted his gaze, intrigued by her final comment. Satoru didn’t actually think of his girlfriend as a brat, but of course Riko didn’t understand how the couple worked and there was no time to explain how Gojo called his girlfriend a brat in an endearing way- unlike his usage for it towards her. When Gojo used it towards Riko, he meant it. If they had the time, Geto might even explain how Y/n commonly refers to her boyfriend as a ‘trust fund baby’ or ‘a prick’, both of which are factual, yet it’s out of love between the two. 

Satoru ignored her quip, finding her opinion on his relationship totally useless. He knew his love for Y/n was larger than his will to live, yet he saw no point in expressing that to this girl. Riko didn’t know one thing about his relationship with Y/n so why did he care what the girl thought? Sure, he probably did sound like a complete jerk, however he couldn’t care less if the star plasma vessel before him found him to be a bad person for what she was hearing. 

Suguru glanced at Satoru, curious to see if the sorcerer was going to give a reaction however the six eye holder simply scrolled away on his phone, searching for the perfect image of his celebrity model crush to use as his lock screen. 

“School…” She mumbled out. “Kuroi, what time is it?!”

Satoru, Suguru, and Kuroi all sat scattered around the abandoned outdoor pool of Renchoku Girls' Junior High, all thinking of different things. Kuroi found herself reflecting on the time she spent practically raising the young girl who would soon be sacrificing herself as a vessel. Suguru’s mind wandered to how they were going to keep Riko safe until making it to Jujutsu High. All Satoru could think about was why his girlfriend wouldn’t answer his calls. Dangling his shoes above the water, Satoru kicked at the murky water in vex as yet another call went unanswered. 

“Huh?! She keeps sending me straight to voicemail- Suguru, let me borrow your phone!” Satoru failed to turn around as he extended his arm behind himself, impatiently awaiting Geto’s cellphone.

Begrudgingly Suguru dug his phone out from his side pocket and handed the cell phone over to his hysterical friend. He had already seen this play out a million times before and was positive the outcome would be no different; Gojo does something easily avoidable and pisses Y/n off, they get into an argument because it physically pains Gojo to admit his wrong doings, Y/n ignores him, he pretends he’s fine and acts as if he enjoys the distance created, that lasts for a few hours at most, then Gojo acts like a crazed person trying to get his girlfriend to respond while she is clearly still upset. 

Miles away in Tokyo, Y/n saw the face of her good friend Suguru pop up on her screen. Her brain screamed it was just her idiot boyfriend trying to convince her to speak to him. Maybe it really was Suguru calling to inform her of their mission. Hesitantly, Y/n accepted the call and lifted the phone to her ear.

“Hi, pretty girl- uh?! She hung up on me!” Gojo shrieked as the line went dead on the other end. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared the the screen in disbelief, almost as if the mobile device had zapped him like an electrical shock. His mouth hung wide, a look of absolute astonishment polarizing his features. A few moments of staring at the blank screen passed by, Gojo awaiting a returning call from his love to declare it was all some prank, yet nothing came. Suguru outstretched his hand towards his friend,

“Satoru, can I have my phone back?”

The blue eyed man gave an over exaggerated groan then carelessly tossed the cellular device back to its rightful owner. 

“Fine. Ugh! Can’t believe how dramatic she’s being! Just wait until I get back to Jujutsu High and don’t share any of my mochi with her. She’s going to have to wait at least a week until I give her that necklace I bought.” He huffed like a child. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, Satoru gazed out at the pool. From behind he could hear a chuckle from his friend, causing him to turn his head. As expected, Suguru was chuckling to himself at his expense. Squinting his eyes, Satoru sent a scowl, unimpressed at Suguru’s amusement over his situation. 

“Well, you did go on an entire rant to her about how hot Inoue Waka is, how she’s your dream girl, then you told Y/n you’re only dating her because Inoue Waka hasn’t returned any of your fanmail-”

“That was a joke.” Satoru dismissed his argument, shaking his head, still playing a blind eye to his wrong doings.  

“And you said Y/n is lucky to be dating you… so, one might call her response reasonable.” Sure, Suguru was Satoru’s friend first, but he was also Y/n’s friend and he had no issue telling Satoru the truth when he was in the wrong, like he was now.  “Not to mention the new background which is sure to warm her heart.” Suguru pointed out. Gojo preferred to convince himself that his partner was wrong, although the nagging voice in the back of his head claimed otherwise. An abrupt quip from Geto on two of his cursed spirits no longer roaming around Riko sent all three sprinting to find her location, and still, even while the choir girls and sensei fawned over him, Gojo could not stop replaying his earlier fight with Y/n, wondering what he could do to get a response from her. 

Satoru and Riko were currently running from the chapel on her school grounds- well, Satoru was running while he had the young school girl hoisted by the back of her uniform. An unexpected attack had caused a bump in the road and now Gojo had to protect the girl on his own until he could find Suguru, not that the task would be difficult by any means, Satoru simply had his mind elsewhere. Speaking of elsewhere, his cell phone started ringing from his side pocket, and before he could reach for the mobile device, the young girl plucked it out in one motion. Satoru went to steal his phone back when she raised the phone to her ear and, as if it belonged to her, answered the call meant for Satoru. 

“Eh? Give that here-” Gojo reached his hand to snatch his phone back from Riko, yet instead she pulled the device right to her ear and began rambling. If she wasn't on the mission Satoru was certain he’d have dropped her off the building right then and there, but he had no time to make another effort to yank the phone as he needed to reach higher ground. It wasn’t until Gojo heard the sound of his girlfriend’s voice that his heart dropped straight to his ass. ‘Oh no’, he thought. 

“Is this Y/n?” The girl eagerly asked. A far off voice replied, making Gojo reach out once more to snatch his phone back, only for the vessel to jerk her head away from his grasp. He knew there was no time to stop, he had to get to higher ground and then he could steal his phone back and make things right with his girlfriend- he just hoped Riko and her big mouth wouldn’t taint that chance for him. 

Before he could try to reason with the girl and convince her not to say anything more, Riko began rambling and there was nothing he could do to stop her. Gojo could sense another curse user in their perimeter and knew it was essential for his focus to remain on keeping the vessel safe, even if she was a pain in his ass. 

“My name is Riko- yes, I am! Listen, your boyfriend is a total selfish, inconsiderate, self obsessed jerk! He barged into my choir class all high and mighty and bathed in the attention as the girls swarmed him- he even took his stupid little glasses off for them to all swoon over his eyes! He was totally leaning into their lust for him! My sensei even gave him her phone number-”

“Ah! Hey! Give me my phone back- are you trying to get me murdered?!” Nope, ah uh, not happening, Gojo thought as he tore his cellphone away from her hands. Riko turned to look at him, but the mix of fear and absolute terror on his face kept her words at bay. He sent the girl a cold glare, electric blue eyes narrowed in frustration. “My girlfriend is-”

The abrupt sound of his beloved girlfriend screaming at him sent Satoru back to reality as he glanced at the phone screen, then resentfully lifted the mobile to his ear.

“Hi, princess- why’re you yelling?! I don’t know what this crazy girl is talking about-”

Even Riko was experiencing a small twang of regret as the manic shouting on the opposite end of the line seemed to worsen with every passing second. As far as only knowing the cocky sorcerer for less than a full day, this change in posterior surprised her. Riko was taken aback to see him practically cowering at the words the girl seemed to be seething. All day he had been ranting and raving about how powerful he was- clearly the conceited type, yet here he was nearly shaking like a leaf as his girlfriend scolds him. Riko wonders for a brief moment if she should’ve minded her own business.

A minute more of screaming and cursing passed until Satoru seemed to find his voice, or rather thought of a viable excuse, and nervously cut the girl off. 

“I’ve got to go, a curse user attacked! See you later, my love!” He hurriedly smacked his finger against the red button on the bottom of the phone, desperate to end the call as quickly as humanly possible. Riko stared up at him as she dangled above the ground, and as their eyes met, Gojo rolled his, displaying his anger towards the girl as broad as daylight. 

Gojo scoffed down at the girl as he continued to hoist her above the earth by the back of her shirt, carrying her as if she was a briefcase, or bag of groceries, though certainly not as one should hold a human. Riko huffed, folding her arms across her chest, but Gojo paid no mind to her emotions, too upset with her actions and interjecting herself in his personal relationship. Jumping to the building to their right, a childlike huff heaved from his chest. 

“Jeez, you’re really a handful, brat. Now I’ve got more of a mess waiting at Jujutsu High for me.”

After the pair met up with Suguru and Kuroi, the four were beyond ready to be inside the safety barrier of Jujutsu High and left at once. After arriving at the school, the sun had long since fallen and the sky was teetering between a navy and black shade. Suguru gave his partner a curt nod, gesturing his head towards the dorm rooms, insisting he could handle escorting Riko into the tombs of the star corridor. Satoru sent his friend a grateful smile, bid the vessel and her guardian a farewell, then took off for the dorms. A small, minute, fraction of him was going to miss the kid, but she agreed to her destiny and up until now, seemed relatively pleased with her choice. Satoru jogged up the steps of the dormitory until he finally reached the fourth floor, the floor only occupied by female students. It wasn’t hard to locate Y/n’s room as he had snuck in past curfew more times than he could count, he reached her door with ease. 

His knuckles tapped against the wooden door, allowing less than a fair second to pass before he jimmied the handle. Usually a locked door would be a sign to walk away and try again in the morning, but Satoru only saw it as a slight hiccup. Pulling a credit card from his back pocket, Satoru slid the heavy black card through the slit between the frame and the door itself, shimming the card down to the lock while simultaneously twisting the knob back and forth. He gave the handle one quick turn to the left and abruptly the door swung open causing him to stumble less than graciously into the dimly lit room. 

Creeping in, Gojo carefully shut the door behind him and fully stepped into the dorm. The pink clock on her desk flashed half past midnight, but he knew his night owl of a girlfriend was sure to be awake, despite the eerie silence in the room. Tiptoeing his way towards the bed in the corner, Gojo let out a whisper, 

“Princess, I’m home! Are you awake?”

He sat himself on the edge of the mattress, placing the large shopping bag by his feet as he cautiously examined the heap hidden under a pile of blankets. Running his hand up and down the smooth fleece, Satoru could feel someone shifting around underneath. He leaned his head down, bending his body at an awkward angel, to rest it on top of what he assumed to be her side- that was until an elbow pulled back from under and collided sharply with his temple. 

A pained yelp sounded as he jumped back in surprise and fell to the floor causing a ‘thud’ to sound out. The figure on the bed threw the covers off her head as her fiery leer met Gojo’s stunned expression. 

“No.” She sneered. Though this did not deter the boy as he had previously prepared himself for an attitude filled reunion- especially due to how their last conversation had ended. Propping himself up to his feet once more, Satoru was determined to try again. 

“I brought you presents- look!” He rustled through the paper bag and yanked out four neatly wrapped parcels, and smiled while shoving his outstretched arms towards the glaring girl. However she refused to move, and instead continued murdering the sorcerer with her deathly scowl instead. Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, gesturing to the boxes in his arms once more. “C’mon, pretty girl, you gotta open the gifts-”

“Why don’t you go give it to those choir school girls- or what about their instructor-” A taunting laugh fell from her pink lips. “Better yet, send it to Inoue Waka and see if she finally responds to your love letters!” 

“Oh, c’mon, pumpkin! Are you really still upset about that?” Gojo whined. Here he was, bearing gifts in hand, and she was still angry about something that happened so, so long ago? Gojo ran his calloused hand across his face. 

“Still upset? It just happened today!” 

“If it’s any consolation, those school girls weren’t even in high school so they were way too young for me anyhow.” And none of them compared to you, he wanted to add. Y/n tossed from her position in the bed so her face was now peeking out between covers as her eyes flared. If the situation wasn’t so serious, Gojo would reach out to pinch at the cute chub of her cheek and comment on how adorable she appeared, yet he knew better than to try to weasel his way out of this one. 

“Ah, so you were flirting with a bunch of children and a cougar? Sounds a lot better that way, Satoru.” She shot back, sass soaking her words. Her rebuttal had Gojo rethinking his words. The issue with dating a woman like Y/n was she was far more intelligent then himself and simply didn’t fall for his handsome looks and boyish charm, which Gojo relied on when it came to the opposite sex. Not that this was a bad thing, so to say, it was actually one of the thousands of reasons why he loved her so much- she wasn’t shallow minded and saw him far beyond his outward appearance. Setting the presents on her freshly organized desk, Satoru ran a hand through his hair and awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Technically, it wasn’t flirting in the sense you’re thinking of, I had to distract the class with my charm and good looks so I could sneak Master Tengen’s vessel out of class- I wasn’t lying about us being under attack by another curse user, that was true!”

“What about her number, huh?” Y/n scoffed. 

“She offered it, but I never accepted it.” Luckily he was telling the truth and Y/n believed him. Despite trusting his confession, she didn’t do anything more. 

A silence greeted the couple, neither certain of what to say next. Y/n lifted the blankets from her lap and stood from her bed in front of her boyfriend. Sure the gesture was small, but Satoru took her willingness to step closer to his frame as a good thing as his arms reached out to pull her body against his in a bone crushing hug. His forehead pressed against her shoulder while he kissed the spot. Y/n thought about pulling away for a second, she thought about making him work harder to gain her forgiveness, but his arms felt far too comforting around her body for her to shake him off. With his head buried in her shoulder, Gojo glanced up to Y/n, a softness in his eyes as he spoke,

“Do you forgive me, pretty girl? I’m sorry I made you upset… I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.” 

When she didn’t answer right away, Gojo lifted his head from her so he could properly look her in the eyes. He could visibly see the clouds of anger clearing as she quietly stared back at him. His hand then moved to wrap around the side of her face, his gentleness causing her to melt against his palm. She desperately wanted to smack his hand away, curse him then send him off to his room for the night, but she couldn’t. His touch sparked a series of shivers through her body which only made her long for him to pull her closer. 

A grin broke across his features as he accepted her lack of resistance as approval for his apology and began to move closer towards her face. If she slapped him away, then he’d know he misread the signs, but she didn’t. Their faces were so close in distance Y/n could smell the welcoming scent of peppermint swirling from his parted lips. These were the times she found herself grateful for his sweet tooth, it usually made for sweeter kisses. Wordlessly, Y/n pushed herself to close the distance and pressed her lips to connect to his. Gojo hums as he dips his head lower to gain advantage as he deepens the exchange. 

His mouth is warm against hers, inviting, as he kisses her. She can feel his tongue as it slips inside her mouth, almost like it was entering its second home, seeing as easily as it made itself comfortable and friendly against her own. Her fingers gripped at his white strands, pulling his face closer. All the frustration, all the emotions she had been experiencing towards him for the last day melted into the kiss. Satoru had one hand wrapped around her waist, holding her middle against his hips and his other swooped up around her lifted arm, leaving his hand to rest on the back of her neck, not letting her pull away even if she wanted to. 

Y/n could taste the strawberry chapstick on his lips, the same chapstick he had stolen from her only a week prior. He wasn’t lying, the taste was addictive. Gojo’s lips captured her bottom in a heated move, sucking on the skin with the slightest hint of friction as his teeth light delved into the plumpness. She had no time to muffle the moan passing through her, to which he smirked at the sound. 

A sense of shame washed over her once she realized he had won the silent battle. Instead, Y/n yanked at his hair from the root and pulled his lips back against hers, kissing him with such force he nearly stumbled back a footing. Gojo’s eyes widened in the middle of the kiss, surprised at her boldness and the way her tongue was invading his mouth. He could feel the material of his uniform growing tighter as his jeans constricted against his crotch. Y/n sucked on the silky smoothness of his tongue, small smacks sounding as she dominated the heated makeout. 

A shudder danced down his spine at the feeling of her hand pressed against his groin, his hips subconsciously grinding against her palm. Rubbing her hand along the zipper Y/n toyed with the cool metal, silently teasing her boyfriend as a means of revenge for his actions. Just as she began pulling the slider down, her lips pulled away from him at once, much to Satoru’s disappointment. His mouth hung low as a small whine sounded.

Y/n simply ignored his childish ways, and reached for the bottom of her shirt, causing him to smile once more. Peeling the shirt that belonged to him off her body, Y/n threw it to the floor then fell back against her mattress, motioning Gojo over with the flick of her wrist. Satoru stalked towards her on the bed, almost like a predator sneaking up on it’s prey. His eyes held a look of hunger she rarely saw but bathed in the heat searing from it.

Climbing over her body, Satoru placed himself so he was looming above her, his zipper hanging half undone. Y/n tilted her head, pretending not to understand the look on his face. Gojo shook his head then leaned his face so his lips could skim against her exposed neck. He let his mouth trail up the side of her skin, hot breath fanning over her coolness. His hands lifted to grope at the covering of her bra, giving the material a tug. He came to a stop once his mouth was pressed against the shell of her ear, his voice sending a wave of pleasure straight to her core, 

“I love it when my princess is being a little brat… think I need to put you back in your place.”

Without warning his lips attached to her neck and harshly began to suck at the skin, surely leaving a trail of blotchy red marks. Y/n’s whole body hitched at the overwhelming rush of excitement, her hips lifting only to be shoved back into the mattress by his own which hovered barely an inch above. 

She let her head fall to the side, allowing Satoru more access to her neck, her eyes hardly opened as she basked in the tingling his mouth brought. Hands traveled up and down his back, nails lightly scratching against him as her body wormed from his lips making love to her skin. Y/n nearly closed her eyes all together, she nearly allowed herself to get lost in his kiss, that was until a distant ‘ding’ caught her attention and the phone beside her head lit up. 

A text notification from Suguru popped up on Satoru’s phone, but that wasn’t what caught Y/n’s attention, no, her fixation settled in on the nearly naked photo of the famous model Inoue Waka. The same Inoue Waka that sparked the original fight between the couple, the same Inoue Waka Satoru called hot, the one he declared his dream girl, and same Inoue Waka Satoru said he’d be dating if she’d give him a chance- Y/n was fuming in rage. Pushing both hands on his chest, Y/n physically shoved Satoru off her body causing him to tumble off the side of the bed. His hands flailed out in an attempt to grab for stability, although failed as he rolled to the wood floor, his back smacking against the ground. Gojo laid still on the floor, his mind still trying to process the whole event as he rubbed at the ache on the back of his head. Sitting up straight she reached out for his phone and held it in his face as she screamed,

“Are you fucking kidding me, Satoru?! You put Inoue Waka as your background?!”

“Hehe… that was meant to be a joke…” The fear in his voice transcribed in shaky words as Y/n chucked the phone at him, barely missing his face as he lunged to the side. She snatched his shirt off the ground and threw it back on, covering her chest as Gojo scrambled to grab his cellphone. 

“Fine, I’ve got an even funnier joke for you,” A taunting smile full of hidden anger laced her lips as her finger jutted towards her door. “Get out!” 

His face fell all at once, a deep pout tattooed on his lips. Maybe he should’ve listened to Suguru earlier when he insisted this was a bad idea- if he’d had listened to Suguru, the two would probably be tangled in her bed sheets by now, but no, Gojo had to press her buttons even further. Opening his phone, Satoru clicked on the most recent image of Y/n and faster than the speed of light, set the photo to his new lock and home screen. 

“Aw, c’mon! I’ll change it right now- see! Look, pumpkin, it’s a picture of my favorite girl-” Gojo flipped his phone around, allowing the bright screen to illuminate Y/n’s face. She glanced up, and Satoru watched in utter confusion as her expression went from upset to lividly irate. His heartbeat multiplied in rate, obviously terrified of the disturbing reaction she held to seeing her face on his phone, or what he thought was her face. 

“You fucking asshole.” She growled. If this was his idea of a practical joke, Y/n was ready to make him single. Gojo’s eyes grew like a mass, quickly turning his phone back only to see what caused such a profuse reaction. The image hadn’t changed and was the same exact photo as previously of Inoue Waka propped up on her knees sitting in the sand as her breasts nearly poured out of her excuse of a bikini.

“Shit! I promise I thought I hit save- just give me a second, I’m panicking!” He screeched. His fingers moved at the speed of light as Satoru helplessly tried to set his girlfriend’s smiling face as his background, hoping to at least save some ground between the couple. What he failed to notice in his alarmed state was Y/n reaching out for her phone, scrolling through her photo album and setting a new image on hers. 

“No, no, it’s fine, Gojo, really. I’ll just change my background to a picture of my favorite guy.” The smile she wore was not one of love, no it held more malice, evilness like she had just completed a plot to end the world. Satoru’s head nudged to the side, his eyebrows pulled together in a line of skepticism. 

“I’m already your background, princess…” He mumbled. Clarity was granted as the girl tossed her cellphone, to which he caught with ease. Clicking the power button, Gojo gave a dramatized gasp.

“Is… is that Suguru?! How’d you get this picture? Did he send this to you? Oh my god I’m going to kill him-” 

“I think he looks cute.” Y/n smirked. Obviously it was all a ruse to get back at him for his immaturity, but she couldn’t help the sense of pride creeping up at the over the top reaction from Gojo. The photo itself came from a night out the couple shared, one with their usual third wheel, Geto. Four shots in and five mixed drinks, Suguru was having quite the time, which led to a gallery full of images that he insisted the three took together- and if Gojo would look a little closer, he’d notice the small wisps of pure white hair sticking out from the edge of the cropped image, but Y/n didn’t need to tell him that, it was far more amusing to see him frantic. 

Large blue eyes pleaded up at her as Gojo kneeled in front of the bed, his hands folded like prayer.

“Princess, please put my picture back! I changed mine back to you- please!”

Her finger tapped against the blush to her cheek, pretending to be lost in thought. This was pure torture as Gojo continued to beg at her feet. 

“Hm. I’m not sure- I do have a picture of that adorable first year Haibara in there somewhere…” No, absolutely not, that was Satoru’s last straw. No way in hell would his beautiful girlfriend have a photo of that first year sorcerer always obsessed with impressing Suguru as her background- never ever! Gojo was already annoyed their peer favored his best friend over himself, but having his own girlfriend joke about giving them attention, fuck no.  Holding her phone above his head and out of her teasing reach, Satoru screeched, 

“Ah! You’re going to replace me with a first year?! What?!”

Folding her arms in a crossed fashion against her chest, Y/n gave the hysterical teen a ‘told you so’ glare. 

“Now you know how I felt.” She said matter-of-factly. 

Satoru had to physically bite his tongue to keep the word ‘brat’ from tumbling past his lips. Yes, he used the term as one of endearment, but that was when the two were in their usual jovial mood- now was not the time and now. Gojo understood what she was hinting at, he got the message she was referring to their earlier argument and the various comments he had made towards the famous model, but that didn’t mean he agreed with her. In his mind, there was a clear difference between joking about having a crush on someone in the public eye and joking about having a crush on a fellow classmate. 

“Well at least my background was a celebrity that I have no real chance with. If you asked that first year out he’d probably say yes on the spot then pass out- and Suguru would say yes just to spite me!” His voice was teetering a cry as he threw his head against the bed. 

“I would never actually ask them out, Satoru. In case you haven’t noticed, I love you. Why do you think I was so upset about all those things you said before you and Suguru left? You basically admitted I’m not your dream girl but some famous, perfectly perfect model, who I look nothing like, is. Then you went on about how lucky I should feel being with you, as if I’m not already insecure about our relationship.” Gojo’s heart sunk at her words, regret filling his insides. “It hurt my feelings, Satoru.”

“I’m sorry, princess… I really am. I never meant to hurt you, I guess I thought I was being funny but… it’s really not true.” For the first time in maybe ever, Satoru’s tone sounded different. His voice no longer held that casual cockiness and confidence it usually oozed, no, he sounded timid… possibly the most serious he’s ever sounded in his life. The man who played life like it was the board game itself now stood before the woman he loved looking scared. Y/n’s face scrunched in question, slightly taken aback by the sincerity he expressed. 

“What’s not true?”

“What I said about Inoue Waka, she’s not my dream girl, you are.” Satoru stated. He needed Y/n to see the truth to his words, to believe she was the only girl for him, because she was. As fun as it was to tease his girlfriend, it was only amusing when she was in on the joke. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Satoru could see now how truly uncomfortable she was with his comments and it made him feel like a piece of shit knowing he planted a seed of insecurity in her mind. 

It was almost as if Gojo could see the shield Y/n placed around herself, around her heart. She was a hard one to crack, but getting to be the soul she finally let inside meant the entire word to Satoru and he had no intention of breaking that trust ever again. 

“And I’m the one who’s so fucking lucky to get to call you mine. You’re everything I could ever ask for in a girlfriend and more. You put up with me and you’re the only person who ever laughs at my jokes- and you know all my favorite snacks and treats… you even know all the things I’m scared of, which losing you is at the top of my list. I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt us, or made you feel insecure… I really am sorry, Y/n.”

The room turned quiet as Gojo’s confession hung in the air. Y/n didn’t speak, she wouldn’t even move. Instead, her eyes planted on the blanket in her lap, mindlessly losing herself in the pattern while her mind raced, replaying his words over and over again. Gojo examined her odd behavior, part of him perplexed at her lack of response. Y/n had a response for everything, for every situation. For the first time in their two year relationship Gojo was witnessing her in a speechless state, and for as much as he joked about her bratness and stubborn ways, he hated not hearing her voice. A minute passed until Satoru decided he had enough of missing her sound. As he opened his mouth, about to ask if she was okay, a shout sounded from her throat. 

“Ugh! I hate when you do that!” Y/n cried out. There was a thin row of salty tears teetering her waterline. Dread filled Gojo at the sight. He never meant to make her cry. Standing to his feet Satoru sat himself next to her on the bed, his hands reaching out to grasp her own in trepidation. His thumb drew anxious circles across her skin, a method he’d learned that usual calmed her down, yet her tears steadily fell. 

“W-What? Do what?” He asked in a wavering voice. With her free hand, Y/n harshly rubbed at her eyes, wiping the tears that continued to roll down her reddening cheeks. A few splashed against his hand that clutched hers, but he didn’t care. A scarlet ring formed around her e/c eyes as she glanced up to Satoru, a mix of agitation and sadness filling her. 

“When you’re all sweet and say things that make my insides feel like they’re all mushy and- ugh, I hate how much I love you. It’s so annoying!” She cried out. 

A wave of solace splash his bay at her words, along with the returning embrace as her hand squeezed his. He let out a sigh of relief, grateful his words had caused good tears this time. Bringing her hand up to his face, Gojo danced a trail of kisses along her knuckles and smiled. Still holding her hand, Satoru lightly urged the girl to lay back on the mattress and he climbed in next to her. Her head rested softly against the pillow, Gojo’s arm encircling her waist as he turned her body to face his. Once he could see her beautiful face, he let his hand wrap under her chin with a feather light grip. 

“I happen to love how much you love me, pretty girl.” 

His lips pressed a sweet kiss to her temple, then placed another to her forehead, then lastly a chaste and loving kiss to her lips. Y/n nuzzled her head against his touch, the shakiness to her breathing beginning to slow. Gojo removed his hand from her chin as he felt her wiggling closer until her head was laid up on his chest. The sound of his heart beat echoed in her ear and she cuddled into his warmth. A comfortable blanket of peace took control of the room as the couple enjoyed the feeling of holding one another. Satoru’s hand ran up and down her back in an act of comfort. His touch always made her feel more at ease. The moment of tranquility lasted a good portion until Y/n briefly pulled herself away from Gojo, an unfamiliar gleam to her gaze. Satoru tilted his head, unfamiliar to the unusual look, when Y/n lifted her hand to stroke the side of his cheek, as she spoke in a mask of sweetness,

“I swear Satoru, if you ever set Inoue Waka as your homescreen again, I’ll murder you then chop your body up and dump it in the ocean.” One might expect a rational response to such a threat would be fear, not Satoru Gojo. A cheesy grin broke out as his hold tightened around her body, pulling her closer to him.

“I know you will, princess, and that’s why I love you… even if you are a brat at times.”

Her hand smacked against her arm, faking a pout while snuggling further in. 

“Shut up, you love me because I’m a brat.” She remarked. They both knew it was true. Satoru could feign annoyance over her attitude, he could pretend she was too ‘difficult’ for him, but in all honesty, bratty was exactly the way Satoru loved her. 

“You know me too well.”

[moonlightwritingf1]

More Than a Ride Home | LN4

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N and Lando share a close New Year's Eve, leading to a deeper connection and the realization of their feelings.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐ word count ━━━━━━━ 3.1k

The low hum of music played in the background as laughter echoed throughout Max and Pietra's apartment. The New Year’s Eve party was in full swing, champagne bottles popping and conversations flowing freely. Y/N stood near the edge of the room, a glass of red wine in her hand and a soft smile on her lips as she listened to Pietra animatedly retelling a story.

Lando’s eyes had been on her all night. He was sitting on the couch with Max, seemingly engaged in conversation, but his gaze drifted to Y/N every chance he got. She looked stunning tonight, her figure hugged by a sleek black dress that fell just above her knees. Her cheeks were flushed—either from the wine or the warmth of the room—and she seemed relaxed, a contrast to the guarded demeanor she often carried.

Max, noticing his friend’s distraction, chuckled and nudged Lando’s arm. “You know, if you stare any harder, you might just set her on fire.”

Lando smirked, not even bothering to deny it. “I can’t help it. She’s…different tonight. Happy. She deserves to always look that happy.”

Max rolled his eyes. “You’ve got it bad, mate.''

“Don’t I know it,” Lando muttered, taking another sip of his soda. He didn’t drink, not even on celebratory occasions like tonight, but he didn’t mind. Y/N was on her second—no, third—glass of wine, and the sight of her relaxed and giggling was worth staying sober for.

As the night wore on, guests began to trickle out, offering hugs and cheers of “Happy New Year!” before disappearing into the cold London night. By the time the clock struck three, only a handful of people remained, including Y/N, who was now leaning against the kitchen counter with Pietra, laughing uncontrollably at something Max had said.

“She’s drunk,” Max observed with a grin, leaning closer to Lando. “Might want to keep an eye on her before she starts dancing on the furniture.”

Lando chuckled. “Drunk Y/N is harmless. A little giggly, maybe, but harmless.”

“She’s also single,” Max teased. “Perfect opportunity for you to make your move.”

“Not like that,” Lando said firmly. “I’m not taking advantage of her being drunk.”

Max raised his hands in mock surrender. “Relax. I was kidding. But seriously, she’s staying here late, and she’ll need a ride home. Pietra’s already giving me that ‘we need to clean up’ look, so…”

Lando nodded. “I’ve got her. Don’t worry.”

--

The laughter and hum of conversation were starting to fade in the background as the party began to wind down. Lando couldn’t help but notice Y/N standing by the balcony door, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of the city lights outside. She held a nearly empty glass of red wine in her hand, and her cheeks were flushed—either from the alcohol or the warmth of the crowded apartment. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Y/N,” he called softly as he approached her, his voice low enough to ensure it wouldn’t startle her.

She turned to him, her movements slightly slower than usual. Her face lit up when she saw him, her eyes sparkling under the dim lights. “Lando! Hi!” she said, her voice higher-pitched than usual, her excitement exaggerated by the alcohol coursing through her veins.

He chuckled, the corners of his mouth pulling into a soft smile. “Hi,” he replied, reaching out to gently take the glass from her hand. “I think you’ve had enough of this.”

Her lips formed a pout, exaggerated and playful. “Oh, come on, I was just starting to have fun.”

“You’re plenty fun without another glass of wine,” he teased, his tone warm and teasing but firm enough to convey that he wasn’t going to let her argue. “But it’s late, and I think you need to get home.”

She blinked at him, her brows furrowing slightly as if she were processing his words through a fog. “Oh. Yeah, I guess.” Then, almost immediately, her expression shifted, and a cheeky grin spread across her face as she stepped closer to him. “Are you my knight in shining armor? Here to rescue me from…uh…Pietra’s couch?”

Lando laughed, the sound deep and genuine. His heart skipped a beat at how unfiltered and carefree she was when tipsy, a side of her he rarely got to see. “If you want to put it that way, sure. Come on, I’ll drive you.”

“Okay!” she said, practically chirping the word as she turned to grab her purse from the counter. In her eagerness, she stumbled slightly, and Lando was quick to catch her, his hands steadying her by the waist.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“Yup!” she replied, looking up at him with a bright smile. She didn’t seem fazed by the stumble or his hands on her, though Lando was acutely aware of the warmth of her skin under his palms.

He shook his head with a small laugh, more at himself than her. “Let’s get you home, princess.”

Getting her down to his car was an adventure in itself. She insisted on saying goodbye to everyone—twice—and even tried to convince Pietra to give her another glass of wine, which Lando quickly intercepted.

“You are absolutely done for the night,” he said, guiding her gently toward the door.

“I’m not even that drunk!” she argued, though her giggles and slightly wobbly steps betrayed her.

Lando raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. “Right. Not drunk at all.”

When they finally made it outside, the crisp London air hit her, and she let out a dramatic gasp. “It’s so cold!”

“You should’ve brought a jacket,” Lando said, slipping off his own and draping it over her shoulders before she could protest.

She looked up at him, her expression momentarily soft and almost shy. “Thank you,” she murmured, pulling the jacket tighter around her.

“Anytime,” he replied, his voice quiet but sincere.

He opened the car door for her, and she slid in with a content sigh, the warmth of his jacket and the cozy car contrasting with the chill outside.

The city lights passed by in a blur as Lando drove through the quiet streets, his focus split between the road and the woman in his passenger seat. Y/N had her head tilted back against the headrest, a dreamy smile on her lips.

“Why don’t you drink?” she asked suddenly, her voice breaking the comfortable silence.

Lando glanced at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “Just never liked the idea of it,” he said with a shrug. “I like being in control, especially when I’m out with people I care about.”

Her smile widened, and she turned to face him fully, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “So you’re a control freak?”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Not exactly. I just like knowing I can take care of people if something happens. Like tonight, for example.”

She tilted her head, her expression softening. “That’s…nice. You’re nice.”

“Don’t let that get around,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood despite the warmth spreading through his chest at her words.

“Why not?” she asked, her voice tinged with genuine confusion.

He grinned. “Because then everyone will want me to drive them home after parties.”

She burst out laughing, the sound uninhibited and infectious. “Fair point. But still, you’re nice.”

As they reached a red light, Y/N suddenly leaned over, her face closer to his than it had been all night. Lando froze, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice caught between amusement and panic.

“Your hair,” she said, her voice soft with fascination. She reached out to touch the curls at the nape of his neck, her fingers light as a feather. “It’s so soft.”

Lando’s breath caught, his heart racing as her fingers brushed against his skin. “Y/N,” he said, his voice strained.

“What?” she asked, her tone innocent, though there was a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“You’re going to make me crash the car,” he said, his voice half-joking but entirely serious.

She pulled back with a giggle, leaning against the window instead. “Sorry. Your hair’s just really nice.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, shaking his head with a small smile. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

When they finally pulled up in front of her apartment building, Lando parked the car and turned to her. She was staring out the window, her expression suddenly contemplative.

“Hey,” he said softly, drawing her attention back to him. “We’re here.”

“Oh,” she said, blinking as if coming out of a trance. Then she smiled, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride, knight in shining armor.”

“Anytime, princess,” he replied, his tone light but his heart heavy with the thought of leaving her.

He got out of the car and walked around to her side, opening the door for her. She stepped out, her legs a little unsteady, and he reached out instinctively to steady her.

“You really don’t have to do all this, you know,” she said, her voice quieter than it had been all night.

“Yes, I do,” he replied simply.

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for something she couldn’t quite name. After a moment, she nodded, letting him guide her to the building’s entrance.

At the door, she fumbled with her keys at the door, her fingers clumsy and uncoordinated. Lando watched with a mix of amusement and concern, eventually taking the keys from her gently.

“Here, let me,” he said, unlocking the door with ease.

“Show-off,” she muttered, though there was no malice in her tone.

He chuckled, holding the door open for her. “After you.”

She stepped inside, kicking off her heels and sighing in relief. “Finally. My feet are killing me.”

“That’s what you get for wearing shoes that are more for show than comfort,” Lando teased, following her into the apartment.

“Don’t mock my fashion choices,” she shot back, her tone playful as she dropped her purse onto the couch.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his eyes sparkling with humor.

For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of the night settling over them. Y/N looked at him, her expression soft and unguarded in a way that made his chest ache.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“For what?” he asked, his voice just as soft.

“For taking care of me. For always taking care of me.”

He smiled, his heart swelling at her words. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I want to take care of you, Y/N.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, suddenly shy. “You’re really good at it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, his hand brushing against hers as he spoke. “And I’d do it every day if you let me.”

She looked up at him then, her eyes wide and searching. For a moment, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of them, the unspoken tension hanging thick in the air.

But then she yawned, breaking the moment.

“Alright,” Lando said with a small laugh, his voice tinged with both relief and disappointment. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Lando guided Y/N through her apartment toward the bedroom, her feet dragging slightly with each step. She swayed unsteadily, and he kept a firm hand on her lower back, steering her gently.

“I’m fine, you know,” she mumbled, her words slurring slightly. “Perfectly fine. Could’ve done this…all by myself.”

He glanced down at her with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Sure you could, but you didn’t have to. That’s what I’m here for.”

She made a soft sound of protest but didn’t pull away, leaning into him as they reached her bedroom door.

The room was cozy, with soft, warm lighting and a bed adorned with mismatched pillows and a plush duvet. Lando couldn’t help but notice little details that felt so uniquely her: a stack of books on the nightstand, an open notebook with scrawled handwriting, and a candle flickering faintly on the dresser.

She plopped down on the edge of the bed with a dramatic sigh, her head tilted up to look at him. A lazy, lopsided smile spread across her face.

“You’re nice,” she said suddenly, her voice soft and full of sincerity.

He froze mid-step, her words catching him off guard. “What?”

“You’re nice,” she repeated, her tone quieter this time but no less heartfelt. “You take care of me. You don’t have to, but you do.”

His chest tightened at the way she looked at him, her gaze unguarded and vulnerable in a way he rarely saw. “Of course I do,” he said, crouching in front of her so their eyes were level. “Because I care about you, Y/N.”

Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, she looked like she was going to say something. Her hand lifted faintly, as if to reach for him, but then she blinked, her expression growing hazy. A wide yawn escaped her, breaking the tension in the air.

Lando let out a quiet laugh, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “Alright, bedtime,” he said softly.

He gently nudged her backward until she was lying on the bed, her head sinking into the pillows. She grumbled under her breath but didn’t resist as he pulled the blanket over her, tucking it snugly around her shoulders.

“There,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “All set.”

As he straightened up, preparing to leave, her voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Stay.”

He turned back, surprised by the quiet plea. “What?”

“Stay with me,” she murmured, her voice drowsy but insistent. Her eyes, though half-closed, held a glimmer of vulnerability that he couldn’t ignore.

“Y/N, I don’t think—”

“Please,” she whispered, the word barely audible but enough to make his heart ache.

For a moment, he hesitated. Every rational part of him told him he should leave, that staying might blur lines he’d been carefully respecting. But then he looked at her, her face soft and unguarded, and he couldn’t bring himself to deny her.

He sighed, giving in. “Alright,” he said quietly, kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket.

As he climbed into the bed beside her, the mattress dipped under his weight. She immediately shifted closer, curling into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her head rested on his chest, her arm draping across his torso as if she’d done it a hundred times before.

Lando lay stiffly for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He was hyper-aware of every place they touched, the warmth of her body against his sending sparks through him. Slowly, cautiously, he wrapped an arm around her, holding her close.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of her steady breathing.

“Goodnight, Lando,” she mumbled, already half-asleep.

As the minutes passed, her breathing grew deeper and more even, signaling that she’d fallen asleep. Lando remained awake, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite contain.

He couldn’t help but marvel at the quiet intimacy of the moment. Holding her like this felt both thrilling and terrifying, as if he were standing on the edge of something he couldn’t quite define.

Her small movements as she slept—shifting closer, her fingers curling slightly against his chest—made his heart ache with a tenderness he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice so quiet it was more to himself than her. “You have no idea, do you? No idea how much I care about you.”

She stirred slightly, her face burrowing into the fabric of his shirt. He froze, thinking he might have woken her, but she merely sighed contentedly before settling again.

--

The soft glow of early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. Y/N stirred first, her eyes fluttering open as the remnants of sleep clung to her.

She blinked a few times, her mind sluggish as she took in her surroundings. It wasn’t until she felt the steady rise and fall of Lando’s chest beneath her cheek that realization hit her like a jolt.

Her eyes widened, and she froze, her heart hammering in her chest. Memories of the night before came rushing back in fragments—the party, the wine, Lando tucking her into bed. And then…oh god.

She slowly tilted her head back, her gaze landing on Lando’s face. His eyes were still closed, his features relaxed in peaceful slumber. She took a moment to study him, her heart squeezing at how soft he looked in the morning light.

But then he stirred, his brows furrowing slightly as he woke. His eyes opened slowly, meeting hers almost instantly.

“Morning,” he said, his voice husky with sleep and a teasing smile already forming on his lips.

She scrambled back, her cheeks burning as she realized just how close they’d been. “Lando! What—why—”

He propped himself up on one elbow, looking entirely too smug for her liking. “Good to see you too.”

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I—”

“Invited me to stay?” he finished for her, his tone light and playful. “Yeah, you did. Practically begged me, actually.”

“I did not beg!” she protested, her voice muffled by her hands.

“Oh, but you did,” he teased, his grin widening. “It was adorable.”

She peeked at him through her fingers, shooting him a playful glare. “So insufferable.”

“And yet, here I am,” he said, gesturing to the bed with a wink. “Right where you want me.”

Despite her embarrassment, a small smile tugged at her lips. She dropped her hands with a sigh, shaking her head. “Thank you for…staying,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his.

“Anytime,” he replied, his voice quieter now, the teasing replaced with something more genuine.

For a moment, the air between them was thick with unspoken words, the weight of the night’s intimacy lingering. Y/N felt her heart skip a beat as Lando’s gaze softened, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice low and steady, “you mean more to me than you realize.”

Her breath caught, her chest tightening as the sincerity in his words hit her like a wave. She opened her mouth to respond, but the vulnerability in his eyes made her hesitate.

Instead, she reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against his hand. “I think I’m starting to realize,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

[blade-liger-4ever]

Why Cody Burns succeeded where Rafael Esquivel failed

Honestly, Raf is one of those characters I never thought much of, in part because he was so forgettable. More often than not in Prime, Raf was just the sweet baby who everybody thought the world of and wanted to keep out of harm's way, even though the most he ever did in the show was provide technical help with Earth machinery or play the part of innocent child. This was not helped by the fact that he was buddy-ed up with the mute Bumblebee, who's sole contributions up until his two part arc and the series finale was additional man power and adorable mimic. While this was good for background humor, it ultimately did nothing to the overall storyline in the series, both for Raf and for Bee, and for the series itself.

By contrast, Cody Burns - the resident team baby, beloved by all and unwaveringly helpful in rescue missions - stood out far more than Raf. And what's more, is that he never had "his own" Autobot/Cybertronian partner, when literally his whole family had one of their own.

Allow me to delve into this, hopefully, final observatory post regarding the TFP kids.

Of all the humans, we quite frankly get the least out of Raf. We know he's a prodigy, given that he's twelve (and a quarter) and jumped straight into the same classes as Miko and Jack, the former of whom is no slouch as I've already covered. We're shown that his family allows him free reign of Jasper, as he's playing by himself near the road, although he's alone. That tells us that his family is either extremely lax in their attention for their youngest child, or that Jasper is an actually safe location for a kid who's barely filling out his shoes to be on his own. Whether or not either option is true, that's dangerous and shows that Raf goes unnoticed by his family. I'm not saying they're abusive or willfully neglectful of him, but this points us to the conclusion that Raf has a very lonely home life, and we already know that he's got zero friends until he meets the Autobots.

This could have been a great plot-point for the series: by giving Team Prime a small child with no one for company, the writers could have more clearly given the Autobots hope for the future of the War/after the War, while Raf could have gained confidence and security from having people who actually cared and listened to him. It could have been fun, having him be the human cycling through the Autobots for various needs. Imagine Raf going to Optimus for comfort after another day of feeling ignored, talking to Arcee for ideas on how to stand up to Vince (being the sole child in class makes you a target, after all), or coming to Bulkhead for how to struggle through the physical aspects of his school regimen (i.e. the time he brought up the rope climbing to Ratchet.) The possibilities were endless.

But instead, he's specifically handed over to Bee. Bee, who is the disabled child that is also largely forgotten, and who, while he does bond with Raf and provide him with much needed company, offers nothing else in the way of development or storylines. We got something marginally better when Raf started spending time with the grumpy grandpa that is Ratchet, which was great to highlight Ratchet's soft side that nurtures his own character progression, but it's not enough for Raf's development. I greatly prefer the company of the Autobots to the human characters in virtually every series, but there needs to be a noticable human presence to ground the Autobots' protective instincts toward Earth and to push along the story. Raf ended up being a token character not even halfway through the first season, which is a shame given his potential, especially since he and Bee ended up being background décor.

Now, as a counterpoint, we come to Cody Burns.

Like Raf, Cody is the youngest child of the Burns clan - and I say clan because his family has been the one providing Griffin Rock's safety and protection for about...roughly three hundred years? (Correct me if I'm wrong, but his family were the ones in-universe to discover the island. Thus, there's a large claim and respect to his family's name.) His father Charlie is the chief of police; his oldest brother Kade is the chief firefighter; his older sister Dani is the helicopter pilot and primary search and rescue operator; and his brother Graham, who's about eight years older than ten year old Cody, is already a chief engineer and inventor himself. Clearly, Cody has an impressive family. Clearly, they're the best of the best, and he couldn't be prouder of them.

And clearly, Cody feels the need to earn his stripes given their talents and the family's reputation.

A recurring subplot in Rescue Bots is how Cody is insecure about his role on the team, and that often leads him to attempt to provide help and find his place in life in the family. Sometimes, this works; although he's often left monitoring the situations across the island at home through the cameras, Cody finds ways of giving advice or pointing out a hazard that the others are oblivious to that would have likely killed them. And this is a noble occupation his fills, with his aid saving many lives and much trouble.

However, sitting around and merely being an observer wears on him. It makes him restless, and he often seeks aid from the 'Bots to figure out his problems before typical shenanigans ensue that rectify the current episode's dilemma.

This is an important part of Cody's characterization because while he does occasionally feel left out/ignored by his family, he understands it is because of their duties. Charlie has to daily wrangle different criminals and legal offenses while Graham is eagerly going to town on his latest project. Kade and Dani each have their own lives that are beginning and that they're pursuing, but additionally maintain an intense sibling rivalry due to them being not even three years apart. Thus, while they're seeing they're respective girlfriend and boyfriend, they're also competing in various childish ways that, sometimes, result in massive fights. It's no small wonder Cody rarely goes to them for advice.

For this, he's left with the 'Bots, and because they view him as their darling little brother who inspires them every day to give the humans of Griffin Rock and Earth a chance, they listen and advise him. Heatwave is the oldest of the 'Bots, and thus more experienced; additionally, Heatwave more than once nearly threw in the towel in the early days, but only relented due to Cody's convictions and virtues. Therefore, while they have a special bond without it being the sole focus, Cody tends to run to Heatwave the most when emotionally unwell and Charlie is unavailable. Heatwave in turn gives him comfort and advice, and backs him up in most situations. Chase is one he less often seeks help from, mostly due to Chase's nature of being a rigid rulebook. Most times Cody helps Chase understand human expressions and terms when Charlie is busy or otherwise engaged, with both their efforts helping the police 'Bot to loosen up. There are times when he needs Chase's input, as strange as that aid might be, and Cody doesn't hesitate to seek it.

Boulder he goes to almost as regularly as Heatwave, and the two get along fantastically. Boulder provides him with loving company he's hungry for, and sound advice without being overbearing. Blades sometimes needs more encouragement than anything, and thus Cody plays the rare part of helping guide someone through their numerous fears. Because of that, the 'copter 'Bot is extremely loyal and protective of Cody, and when Cody does ask for his help or companionship, Blades readily gives it. Sometimes, Blades will even go above and beyond what is asked, and never asks for anything in return.

These are healthy, constantly growing relationships that Cody develops with the 'Bots, as well as magnificent characterizations that are always expanding. While the focus tends to be shown through Cody's eyes or centered around him, it never fixates on him more than is necessary. Rather, by setting him up as the show's heart, the writing team is able to stretch out towards arcs related to other characters, both the 'Bots and their specific partners, and the other human cast members who interact with the 'Bots on a less frequent basis.

This is how Cody takes the potential of Raf from Prime and not only runs with it, but builds up countless heartwarming moments and strong characterizations over the course of Rescue Bots' run. Cody is positively and rightly shown as the glue of the family element of the show, and is given the autonomy to maintain his own personality and growth without being forgotten like Raf consistently was. That's why Cody stands out, and poor Raf is left hanging.

Well, that's my thoughts on the matter. I felt I should tackle Raf, given I covered his two peers, and Cody is a cute, fun, and constantly evolving counterpart to Raf that explains much of why I feel the poor baby of Team Prime was ultimately misused and unnecessary. I hope you enjoyed this, and that it got some gears turning in your heads.

I'll be seeing you guys!

"Rescue Bots, roll to the rescue!"

[satorusugurugurl]

If this request makes you uncomfortable or isn’t something you want to write, I apologize and please ignore my request!

Heyy! I was wondering if I could request a satoru x reader x Suguru smut? With like, some bdsm mixed in yk. Tying reader up, satoru is a tease, and likes to make her squirm and ask questions he know she can’t answer because Suguru is fucking her throat. But Suguru is mean. Mean and tougher than satoru. He tells satoru to stop being so gentle with you, that not only do you deserve rough treatment but you like it. And satoru listens to him, of course. I just want them to run through me like a train😞

Also same mean geto anon (again lol) I’m gonna just sign off w an emoji now :3 -🍭

Hi Anon!

This isn't my cup of tea, it's my FUCKING jam!!

Summary: Gojo and Geto had been on a two-week-long mission, which hadn't gone as smoothly as Suguru wanted. He was pent-up and frustrated. So, of course, Gojo called you to warn you it might not be a good idea to come over. You, of course, did not heed his warning. The second you get home, you realize that you were screwed.

Word Count: 3,706

Warnings: BDSM, rough sex, oral sex, so much sex, degradation, teasing, the smuttiest of smut

A/N: Good God, Satoru x Reader x Suguru is my weakness!! I put my whole heart into this. Geto Suguru, teacher AU, is my kryptonite!

Part Two

She Likes it Like That

“Y/N babe,” Gojo said in a hushed whisper, “you probably shouldn't come home tonight.”

You cocked an eyebrow, looking away from the first year's training. “I'm sorry, did you just tell me not to come home. . .to our apartment?” The world ‘our’ came out like acid.

Gojo sighed overdramatically. “Don't say it like that. I'm trying to save you! Suguru is in such a bad mood.” You listened to him walking around. “I sighed out loud when I noticed the last of my mochi was gone. Fuck you for that, by the way, and do you know what he said to me?” You pinched at the bridge of your nose, waiting for the rant to continue. “He told me to shut the fuck up! For sighing!”

“What did you do to piss him off? Oh, and just an FYI, I bought you more mochi, asshole.”

“Oh—” silence, “thank you-I’m sorry, please don't return it.”

“Satoru! Forget about the mochi. What happened to Sugu?”

The mission your partners were sent on did not go as planned. Their hotel had flooded; it was not like they had time to consider sleeping. The higher-ups sent them to an abandoned mountainside village full of cursed spirits. Poor Suguru had to swallow dozens for nearly two weeks. Gojo had enough; he couldn't stand the pained expression on his face as he gagged the last spirit down. So he decided to Hollow-Purpled the entire village.

The second they got back, the higher-ups scolded the hell out of them. Chastising them, complaining that they didn't do a good enough job. After all their hard work, the time they spent away from home, from you. Those bastards dared to complain about their hard work. It sent Suguru into a terrible mood, one that was bound to end with either a fight or someone getting fucked into the mattress.

One thing about Suguru was that when he was pissy, things felt out of his control. He needed to take control back. Which meant he wanted to have sex. He would be rough, really rough, tying either you or Satoru up, not letting you go until he had calmed down. Or if one of you was fucked too stupid to continue, his eyes focused on the other that wasn't tied up.

“So please, just stay with Ieiri tonight. I'm going to lock myself in my room. Last time he was this pissed off, the both of us were so sore we couldn't move.”

“Ugh, fuckin’ whatever.” This whole situation wasn't fair. You hated how your boyfriends were mistreated.

“Yeah, just stay the—oh, hi Suguru.” There was a shuffling in the background. “No, I wasn't talking shit.” Satoru nervously laughed. “Look, Sugu—no, put down the rope—”

“Toru?” Panic for your boyfriend sank into your stomach.

“Hey! Wait a second—Sugu—”

Before any other indication of what was happening came through the receiver, the other line cut off. So you quickly yelled to the students you had to leave and took off. By the time you made it, you were breathless from running and realized that in your panic, you left your keys at work.

You picked up the spare key hidden under the doormat. Just as you were about to unlock the door, it flew open. You slowly blinked, looking up at a very irritated Suguru. The man radiated gloom and tension. He was in his sweatpants, and his hair was tied in a messy bun, and, dear God, he looked pent up.

“Why the fuck are you using the spare key?”

“I-I uh—”

“Ooooh~ there she is~!” a hand gently rested against Suguru’s shoulder as Satoru peered down at you from behind your dark-haired boyfriend. “There's our girl!”

It only took a moment to see that Satoru mirrored Suguru’s frustration and anger. Oh fuck. The key fell from your hand as you took a step back. Suguru was demanding and rough when he was pent up. Satoru, on the other hand, was a tease. He liked pushing you, making you cry. Both of them being in a pissy mood simultaneously, this was a nightmare for you.

“Y-You, I thought you were in trouble!”

“Oh yeah, no.” Suguru’s soured face slowly twisted into a smirk as Satoru licked his lip. “But you~?” Suguru’s hand darted out, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, preventing you from moving further back. “You're royally fucked.” Before you even had a chance to respond, Suguru and Satoru grabbed you, yanking you inside.

“Awe~” Satoru hummed as he trailed his kiss up the bare thighs he lay between. “Look at you~ trying to clamp your thighs shut.” Gojo’s fingers were buried deep inside of you. Finger fucking you to the edge of yet another orgasm he would deny. “But you can't, can you~? Suguru’s got you all tied to the bed, spread out for us to use you.” A muffled moan escaped you. “Huh? What was that princess? You gotta use your big girl words.” Satoru tilted his head, cupping his free hand around the back of his ear. “Oooh! That's right, you can't talk when getting your throat fucked.”

You gagged as Suguru's cock hit the back of your throat. He was quiet, his eyes shut in concentration. He looked so fucking hot, so focused on the feeling of your mouth. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he pulled in and out of your mouth, grunting softly as you hollowed your cheeks. But the more Satoru spoke, the more Suguru knitted his eyebrows.

“I bet you want me to stuff your pussy, too, don't you~? You want to be spit-roasted between your two boyfriends?” Your pussy twitched at his words. “Oooh~!! Your cunt just twitched. Is that what our sweet girl wants—”

“Satoru,” Suguru snarled, “shut the fuck up.”

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me. Y/N likes it when I tease her.”

Suguru tsked, pulling his thick cock out of your mouth. You gasped and coughed, spit and precum coating your chin. Between your pants and the gasps for air, Suguru went to what you thought would be a head pat. Instead, his fingers tangled in your air with a hard yank, pulling you up to look down at Satoru. His face was flushed, cerulean eyes wide as he looked between his two partners.

“Look at the fucking slutty face she's making.” The grip on your hair tightened. “You think she looks like this because of your pitiful teasing?” A shaky moan escaped you as he tightened his grip harder. “No, she looks like this because this little slut likes it rough.”

Fuck, you wanted more, to run your hands over Suguru’s arms, to grip his cock, urging him to keep fucking your throat. You were desperate to trap Satoru's head firmly between your thighs, forcing him to kiss and lick your clit. Instead, you weakly tugged at the purple restraints tied to both your wrists and ankles. Suguru had set up the rigging underneath the mattress, making it impossible for you to move. Meaning if you wanted his cock back in your mouth or Satoru’s tongue inside of you, you had to wait for them.

What made it more frustrating was the fact that you were completely bare. Not allowing you to hide the way your body reacted to Suguru’s dirty words. He was telling the truth. And the truth was behind your body's reactions. Gojo could see it in the way your tight entrance clenched around his fingers. He could feel your pussy drip around him, your wetness running down his knuckles. Suguru was right; you did like it; no, like wasn't the right word.

You fucking loved it.

Suguru could see the wheels turning in Satoru’s head as his eyes glittered with lust and excitement. “Satoru~ do you finally see it?~” The way Suguru purred his name had Satoru’s cock throbbing. “You see why she came home, even though she knew she’d get fucked?”

“Yeah, yeah, she's a fucking slut.”

“Yeah, she is.” A sharp tug on your head made you yelp. Suguru grinned, cocking an eyebrow at you. “You want it rough? Want me to fuck your throat so hard you cry, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

Gripping his cock at the base, Suguru slapped his thick meat against your cheek. “That's a good girl. Now open up.” slowly, you opened your mouth to him. Watching your tongue slip out had his tip angry, throbbing red. “Now,” he smeared the beading precum over your bottom lip, “say ah~.”

“Ahh~” The second that sound left your pretty mouth Suguru shoved his cock in your mouth. Your eyes stung as tears filled your eyes.

Satoru’s fingers had stopped their slow movements inside of you. His mouth was dry as he gulped. Suguru had been rough before, but this was a whole new level. His thick fingers wrapped around your Y/H/C hair, holding your head in place. His hips pull back before slamming forward, his ass clenching with the force of each thrust. Blue eyes slowly trailed over to your face. Your eyes were red, big tears slowly down your cheeks, and your throat was fucked. Satoru swore he could see Suguru’s tip bulging in your slender neck.

This was fucking hot. Suguru’s bare back glittered in the low light of the bedroom, a sheen of sweat beaded over his toned muscles. It was like watching a god fuck a mortal Suguru radiated a dominating power as he watched their girlfriend choke and gag on his cock. Satoru’s cock was so hard it fucking hurt. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft, jerking it slowly as he leaned down, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs.

The gentle kisses had you sighing contently around Suguru’s cock. Looking over his shoulder, Suguru sighed as he watched Satoru. His pink tongue was stuck out, gently teasing your damp folds. The sensation had you sighing around his dick, and that was not what he needed right this fucking second. Suguru wanted more; he needed it to relieve the tension in his shoulder. But that relief, the release he needed, wouldn’t happen, with Satoru teasing you like he loved to do.

“Satoru,” Suguru's voice was rough, “I just told you Y/N likes it rough.”

“Uh-huh~” Satoru’s voice was muffled as his face buried in your pussy, making you whine around the cock buried in your mouth.

“You’re not being rough enough.” Satoru pulled back, making you whine in protest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to come down here and eat Y/N’s pussy while I get my dick sucked?”

“No.” The cocky smile that was beginning to form on Satoru’s face was suddenly gone as Suguru reached his free hand down, wrapping his fingers in soft white hair. “I want you to fucking eat her cunt out like you fucking hate her.” Your eyes rolled back as Satoru was slammed back down into your pussy. The moan that left his mouth vibrated just right against our clit, making you cry out. “Ah~ fuck yes.” Your cries vibrated around Suguru’s cock, just the way he wanted. “That’s it, Satoru, keep it up.”

“Mmmmph.” Finally, having a picture of how Suguru wanted him to act, Satoru found himself motivated. Again, it might be because his boyfriend was tugging and pulling at his sensitive hairline. Yeah, that was motivating him. Fuck you like he hated you, he could do that. He was just as pent-up as Suguru was.

Fingers slammed inside your pussy, fucking in and out of your tight hole with a force and speed that had you crying out in pleasure. Your moans felt so fucking good, and the more you opened your mouth to cry, the deeper Suguru fucked your throat. He hit the back over and over again, his hand pressing firmly against Satoru’s head, pushing him harder against your clit. The two of you moaned while your mouths were being used; the sounds of whimpers, squelches, and gagging were like a symphony to Suguru’s ears.

Out of all the ways for him to relieve his stress, this was by far his favorite.

“Hah—fuck keep that up, Satoru, bring her right to the edge, then stop. I want her cumming with both of us inside of her. Fucking her so rough she has to call out of work tomorrow and Friday.” The thought of that had you pulling on your restraints. “Oooh oh, you like that? You like knowing the two of us will make sure you can’t walk or talk tomorrow?” Your muffled moans were quickly molded into gags as Suguru roughly fucked your face. “Yeah, you fucking do, you nasty little slut.”

Your mind was spinning as you felt yourself climbing closer and closer to your orgasm. The room was so hot and reeked of sex. It was all you could do not to allow yourself to cum right then and there. Satoru could feel it, the way your little swollen clit throbbed against his tongue, how your walls clamped down on his fingers. He wanted to send you over the edge. He was close to following you as he fucked his hips helplessly into the mattress, wishing it was your wet pussy instead.

One orgasm wouldn’t hurt, would it? You had been so good to them, allowing the duo to drag you into the house, strip you in the entryway, and tie you to the bed. Plus, on top of all that, they had left you alone for two weeks. You had to rely on that stupid vibrator Suguru insisted on allowing you to keep. That stupid toy was nothing compared to his tongue. Which was probably why he was bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm in under three minutes.

Yeah, he was going to let you cum.

Curling his fingers up into your g-spot, Satoru fucked you as fast as his wrist would allow. Suguru instantly knew what was happening. From the way your eyes shut to how loud you were moaning around him, you were seconds away from cumming. If he was in a better mood, he might have allowed it to happen. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done with you yet.

“Stop.” Suguru scolded, pulling Satoru away from your dripping sex.

Both you and Satoru made disapproving groans as your orgasm slowly faded out of sight. “Doesn’t she deserve a treat? She’s been so good!” Satoru whined, licking your juices off his lips.

“I agree. Y/N does deserve a reward. But you need to give it to her in the roughest way that you can.” Suguru pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath. “Look at it this way. We get to blow off the steam while we make up for making her play with herself for two weeks.”

“Huh?” Those words struck a different chord in Satoru, and his cock twitched.

“Y/N, sweetheart, how often would you say you played with yourself when we were gone.”

You swallowed at the air greedily. “I don’t know, seven, maybe eight times.” Both your boyfriends shuddered, hearing the hoarseness of your voice.

“And out of all of those times, did you cum as hard as you do with us.”

“Not at all. They were all baby orgasms.”

Suguru shut his eyes, nodding his head. “See, Satoru, not only does our little slut like us rough and demanding, but we have to make up for those eight little orgasms.” When the dark-haired man looked back at Satoru, he saw a flash of white before your scream of shock and please bounced off the walls.

Suguru’s eyes were slightly wide as his brain tried to catch up with what his eyes had just witnessed. What he saw was Satoru balls deep inside of you. His thrusts were sloppy and needy, and fuck you looked as stunned as Suguru. One second you had been empty, pussy craving a cock deep inside of it from the denied orgasm. In the blink of an eye, Satoru was fucking into you more brutal than he’d ever fucked you before.

“I fucking told you, that toy was nothing compared to us.” Satoru snarled against the crook of your neck, digging his teeth into the sensitive skin. “Fucking stupid toy, not pleasing my girl.”

“Oh my—fuck, holy fuck!” You cried out, mouth wide open. Giving Suguru the perfect opportunity to get back to fucking your throat. The bittersweet taste of pre-cum had your mouth watering. He returned to the brutal pace he was in several minutes again.

“She needs that Satoru. What if we get sent on another long mission? She’s just supposed to suffer?” The thought of that had Suguru tilting his head, bangs falling in front of his eye. “You know what, I think you might be on to something. If we take her toy away, then we’d have to fuck her even harder the next time we get home.”

Satoru’s teeth sank harder into your neck as the tip of his cock slammed almost too hard into your cervix, making you scream around Suguru. “Exactly. Let me use reversal red on it, Y/N, please, baby.” You started to shake your head in a desperate plea to let you keep it. But Suguru’s cock in your throat made it impossible to do so. “What was that? Oh, right, you have your mouth full.” His lips moved against your pulse as his fingers dug into your hips. “Guess we’ll just have to say the way your clamping down on my cock is a yes in our book.” Your eyes darted up to Suguru, who had bought you the toy, for help.

“Mhmm fuck, yeah, I’m pretty sure she just hummed an ‘uh-huh’ around my cock.”

You wanted to argue, to fight against this rash decision, but you felt so good it was almost impossible to care. You were screaming around Suguru’s cock. Tears streaming down your face, leaving behind trails of mascara. They were both being so mean and rough. God, it was so fucking good. Who cared about a clit sucker when your throat and pussy were being fucked into next week.

“She’s close.” Satoru cried out, his balls slapping against your ass. “Oh fuck she’s hugging my cock so tight I’m going to explode Suguru.”

With blurry eyes, you glanced up at Suguru. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes shut tight. “I know, oh fuck I know, I’m so close, Satoru, don’t fuckin’ stop, make her cum, make her cum so hard.” Both his hands grabbed your face fucking your throat roughly as Satoru cried out, his hand pressing roughly on your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.

That was all that you needed. You cried out, squirting all over Satoru’s crotch, abdomen, and the mattress. Your orgasm set a domino effect between your boyfriends. Suguru followed behind you, his body hunched over you, his hands gently squeezing your head as he filled your mouth full of his thick cum. You weakly tried swallowing all of it, but that was somewhat difficult as Satoru extended your orgasm.

His thumb continues to rub your clit until his face scrunch up, mouth open in a feral growl. Satoru's orgasm hit him like a punch in the gut. He fucked all three of you harder, closer to oblivion. The headboard slamming against the wall as the restraint dug into your wrists was the only thing grounding you to remain on Earth. Satoru didn’t let up on the rough thrusts until he felt his cum dripping around his cock onto the bed.

The throbbing pain in the back of your throat, deep inside of your pussy was all the confirmation you needed that your boyfriends had fulfilled their promise. Never in your life had you been fucked so roughly. But it was a pain that you warmly welcomed.

After coming down, Suguru was the first to move gently. The rough hands that had been holding you in a vice gently held you as he pulled his softening cock out of your mouth. “Lay down.” His gruff, gentle voice whispered as he helped rest you against a pillow.

“Oh fuck—“ Satoru lifted his head off your shoulder, “I haven’t cum that hard in a while.” He was so slow, pulling out of you, grimacing as you cried out. “Sorry, fuck I’m sorry, baby.”

You shut your eyes, listening to Satoru getting out of bed. You could hear water running in the bathroom as gentle fingers began undoing your restraints. “You did such a good job, Y/N,” Suguru whispered. “Such a good girl for us.” His praise had you humming happily as he made quick work of the rest of the ropes.

“Suguru, let’s order in, yeah?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

The next half hour was a blur of warm happiness. Satoru helped wash your body in a bubble bath before Suguru joined you, kneeling next to the tub, lovingly stroking your face and hair. After you were cleaned up, your hair brushed, and pajamas on. You crawled into your bed with fresh sheets and relaxed. Satoru and Suguru fluffed your pillows and brought you a cup of tea for your raw throat. When your dinner arrived, the three of you sat in bed together to eat as a B-grade horror movie played on the television.

After eating, Satoru left to throw out the take-out containers. “Mmm, thank you for letting us do all that,” Suguru said as he crawled into bed after his shower. “That mission, it was rough.”

“I’m always happy to help.” Your voice cracked, making Suguru frown. “Stop frowning,” you flicked his forehead. “I like it rough.”

The bed dipped, and Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist. “Y/N can handle it. She is dating the two strongest, after all.” Both you and Suguru scoffed, relaxing in the growing silence. “Oh, by the way, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You yawned, snuggling into Suguru’s chest as he turned the bedside lamp off.

“Did you bring home my mochi?”

In the dark of the room, you heard a thump and Satoru’s whine before Suguru pulled the three of you closer to him. “Satoru shut the fuck up about the mochi.”

[meazalykov]

everybody moved on, but I stayed there

barcelona femeni x bayern frauen x reader

summary: its hard to adjust when you thought your old life would be your only life

warnings: angst

the call came early in the morning, the kind of call you had always dreaded but never truly believed would come. 

your agent’s voice on the other end of the line was steady, professional, but it carried a weight that crushed you the moment they spoke.  

“barcelona isn’t offering a renewal,” they said, their tone careful, like they knew the devastation these words would bring.  

you sat in your small apartment, the sunlight streaming through the window, mocking you with its warmth. the city outside was alive as always, the sound of bustling streets filling the background, but inside, you felt frozen. 

“what do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.  

“they’re making some tough financial decisions,” your agent explained, trying to soften the blow. 

“it’s not about your performance. you’ve been phenomenal, but they’re restructuring. you know how it is... fighting for spots in the best team in the world. unfortunately, they’ve decided to let your contract expire.”  

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. you had spent three years at barcelona, pouring your heart and soul into everything. you had thought this was your forever, the club you would retire at, the city you would grow old in.  

“so, that’s it?” you said after a long silence. 

“i’m just... done here?”  

your agent hesitated, then sighed. 

“i know this is hard, but listen. you’re one of the best defenders in the world. clubs are already reaching out, and we have options. lyon, chelsea, orlando, bayern munich—they’re all interested. they’re practically throwing themselves at the chance to sign you.”  

you didn’t respond. you couldn’t. the idea of leaving barcelona, leaving everything you had built here, felt impossible.  

“y/n?” your agent’s voice broke through your haze. 

“i know this is tough, but you need to think about your next step. you have a bright future ahead of you. you can be at a club that actually wants to keep you.”  

you hung up soon after, unable to stomach the conversation any longer. the rest of the day passed in a blur. you avoided your teammates, knowing the questions and the pitying looks they would give you.

the decision wasn’t even yours to make, but the weight of it pressed down on you like it was. every day at training, you felt it in the pit of your stomach, an ache that wouldn’t go away. you tried to mask it—forcing a smile here and there, going through the motions during drills—but it didn’t take long for your teammates to notice.  

you looked down at your training kits and game kits everyday since that phone call, knowing this would be your final weeks wearing the barcelona name. 

“are you okay?” alexia asked one afternoon after practice, her voice gentle. she had always been perceptive, her captain’s instincts sharp. you nodded quickly, brushing her off with a vague excuse about being tired. 

she didn’t press, but her eyes lingered on you, worried.  

by the time the news had fully sunk in, you could hardly meet anyone’s gaze. every touch of the ball, every shared laugh in the locker room, felt like another goodbye you weren’t ready to say.  

you hadn’t been yourself on the pitch, your passes lacking their usual precision, your tackles hesitant. when the session ended, everyone filed into the dressing room, chatting and laughing as always, but you stayed silent, your head down as you untied your boots.  

keira, sitting next to you, noticed your distant expression. she nudged your shoulder lightly. 

“what’s up with you today? you’ve been... off.”  

you froze, the question catching you off guard. for a moment, you thought about brushing it off again, but something about the concern in her voice broke the wall you’d been holding up for weeks. your hands trembled as you placed your boots down, and before you could stop it, tears welled up in your eyes.  

the room fell silent as everyone noticed. keira leaned closer, her voice soft. 

“y/n? what’s wrong?”  

you took a shaky breath, your voice breaking as you finally spoke. “i have to leave,” you said, the words feeling like shards of glass in your throat. 

“barcelona isn’t renewing my contract.”  

gasps echoed around the room, followed by an overwhelming silence. the weight of your confession seemed to crush the air out of the space.  

“what do you mean they’re not renewing your contract?” aitana asked, her voice sharp with disbelief.  

“i thought you’d be here forever,” vicky added, her brow furrowed.  

you shook your head, wiping at your face as the tears kept falling. 

“i thought so too. but... they said it’s financial. they can’t offer me a new deal. it’s not up to me.”  

“no,” mariona said quietly, standing up and crossing the room to sit beside you. her arm wrapped around your shoulders as she pulled you close. 

“this can’t be happening.”  

you leaned into her, the comfort of her presence grounding you as sobs shook your body. mariona held you tightly, her own voice breaking as she whispered, 

“i understand. i know what it’s like. i’m leaving too, remember? i thought this was my forever club, just like you. sometimes, things don’t work out the way we want them to. you’ll be okay, nina.”  

the rest of the team sat in stunned silence, the reality sinking in. salma finally spoke, her voice steady but full of emotion. 

“this isn’t fair. you've tried your hardest for this team. we’ve all seen it.”  

“it’s not fair,” you agreed, your voice barely audible. 

“but it’s happening. and i have to accept it, sal.”  

mapi, sitting across from you, shook her head. 

“accept it? no, we’re not accepting this. you’re one of us. no matter where you go, you’ll always be one of us.”  

their words brought a fresh wave of tears, but this time, they weren’t entirely from sadness. amidst the heartbreak, there was comfort in knowing how much you meant to them.  

mariona squeezed your shoulder, her voice warm despite the sadness in her eyes.

“wherever you go, they’re lucky to have you. it’s okay to be upset right now. we’re upset too, you’ll grow to love your new club just as much as you love us.”  

you nodded, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady yourself. “i’m going to miss all of you so much,” you said, your voice trembling.  

“we’re going to miss you too,” keira said softly, and a murmur of agreement swept through the room.  

the rest of the evening passed in a haze of hugs, tears, and promises to stay in touch. mariona stayed by your side the entire time, her presence a constant source of comfort. as someone who was also leaving, she understood your pain in a way no one else could.  

when you finally left the locker room that night, the reality of your departure felt a little less heavy. your teammates’ love and support reminded you that even though you were leaving barcelona, you would always carry a part of it with you.

alexia tried to talk to you after everyone left, her voice soft.  

“we’ll miss you,” she said, her eyes searching yours for any sign of emotion.  

you forced a smile, nodding as your throat tightened. “i’ll miss you too.” but even as you said the words, it didn’t feel real.  

packing up your life in barcelona was harder than you expected. every corner of your apartment, every street you walked, every café you passed, was filled with memories. leaving felt like abandoning a part of yourself.  

when the offer from bayern munich came, you accepted it with a numb sense of duty. it wasn’t excitement that drove your decision, but necessity. you couldn’t stay in barcelona, and bayern seemed like the best option.  

the first few weeks in munich were strange. the city was beautiful, the people were welcoming, but it didn’t feel like home. 

your new teammates were kind, going out of their way to include you in team dinners and outings. georgia took you out for coffee, and sydney invited you over for dinner. they made an effort, but no matter how hard they tried, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being an outsider.  

“how are you settling in?” klara asked one evening after training. the two of you were stretching on the pitch as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the stadium.  

you shrugged, avoiding her gaze. 

“it’s... fine.”  

klara gave you a sympathetic look. 

“it’ll feel like home eventually. i know how you feel.. just give it time.”  

you nodded, but deep down, you weren’t so sure.  

despite your inner turmoil, your performance on the pitch was stellar. you threw yourself into training, determined to prove that you belonged. the bayern fans quickly grew to love you, chanting your name in the stands during every match.

even as you celebrated victories with your new team, a part of you longed for the camaraderie you had at barcelona.  

when you heard about barcelona’s successes, you felt a pang of jealousy. not because you wanted them to fail, but because you wished you were still a part of it.  

“do you ever talk to them?” georgia asked one day as the two of you sat in the locker room after a match.  

“sometimes,” you admitted, scrolling through your phone. your former teammates still messaged you, names like esmee, alexia, and keira lighting up your screen with texts like, “we miss you,” and “come visit soon.” but it wasn’t the same.  

months passed, and slowly, you began to find your footing in munich. 

when bayern beat real madrid in the champions league quarterfinals, you felt a surge of happiness you hadn’t felt in a long time. the way the team celebrated in the locker room reminded you of the joy you used to feel at barcelona after an el clasico game against the same time you played tonight. 

for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe you could be happy here.  

then, the semifinal draw happened. bayern munich vs. barcelona. 

your stomach twisted when you saw it. the thought of facing your old team felt like a cruel twist of fate.  

“are you ready for this?” sydney asked as the team prepared for the first leg in munich.  

“i don’t know,” you admitted.  

the match was intense. you found yourself marking aitana, the two of you locked in a fierce battle throughout the game. every time she tried to break through, you were there, blocking her path. 

by the end of the match, it was 1-1, with goals from alexia and pernille.  

“good game,” alexia said afterward as the two of you crossed paths in the tunnel. there was a flicker of something in her eyes—pride, maybe? or nostalgia? you couldn’t tell.  

“thanks,” you replied, your voice tight.  

the second leg in barcelona felt different. walking into the stadium, you expected to feel a sense of loss, but instead, you felt... content. 

this was your old home, but it didn’t define you anymore.  

however, your heart thumped in your chest, not from nerves—at least, that’s what you told yourself—but from the weight of what this game meant. the second leg of the champions league semifinal. bayern munich vs. barcelona. your old club vs. your new club.  

giulia adjusted her captain’s armband slightly beside you as your hands steady on your mascot’s shoulders.. despite the whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. the kid mascot looked up at you with her wide eyes, clutching your hand tightly. 

you smiled down at the young girl, offering a small squeeze of reassurance, even though you could have used some yourself.  

the players began walking out, the bright lights of the stadium flooding your vision as the roar of the crowd hit you like a tidal wave. it was deafening. thousands of voices chanting, cheering, and shouting in a language that used to feel like your own.  

you stepped onto the pitch, the familiar sight of camp nou stretching out before you. the stands were a sea of red and blue. 

for a moment, you felt a flicker of encouragement, a warmth in your chest. this was barcelona—this was home.  

wait a minute??? it's not. you cringed as reality hit, sharp and unforgiving. the cheers weren’t for you. not anymore. they were for the players in blaugrana, for the badge you no longer wore. 

you were bayern now. the crowd that once lifted you, chanted your name, celebrated your every move—they were now cheering against you.  

the realization stung more than you wanted to admit. your steps faltered slightly as you made your way to the center of the pitch, your head held high despite the ache in your heart.  

yet, amidst the overwhelming roar of the home fans, another sound reached your ears. it was faint at first, but it grew louder the more you focused on it. the bayern munich away fans, tucked into a corner of the massive stadium, were cheering for your team. 

their voices didn’t carry the same weight in numbers, but there was something in their tone—raw, passionate, unwavering—that hit you differently.  

they went through the lineup and gave the girls name chants. after pernille, they started chanting your name. your name.  

the sound of their voices cut through the noise of the home crowd, filling you with a strange sense of belonging. they weren’t just cheering for bayern; they were cheering for you.  

you straightened your posture, a quiet resolve settling over you. 

the kid beside you tugged at your hand, pulling your attention back. you smiled down at them again, this time with a bit more confidence.  

the anthem began playing, and you sang along quietly, your voice steady as the camera panned across the line of players. the stadium was exciting, the tension building as kickoff loomed.  

as the anthem ended and the players began to move into position, you took one last glance at the crowd. the cheers for barcelona still rang loud and proud, but the bayern fans’ voices echoed in your ears, grounding you in the moment.  

you were here for them now. and for yourself.  

the whistle blew, and the game began.

this game was one of the best of your career. you cleared shots from ewa, stopped aitana in her tracks, and made a crucial save against kika nazareth-- a forward you never got to play with. 

when you took a corner kick in the 89th minute, you didn’t expect anything to come of it. but the ball curved perfectly, slipping past cata and into the net.  

the stadium fell silent for a moment before erupting into german chaos. your jaw dropped as you covered your mouth in disbelief. your teammates swarmed you, their joy infectious.  

however, you didn’t celebrate. you couldn’t. out of respect for the club that gave you everything, you simply walked back to your position, your head held high.  

after the final whistle blew, bayern advanced to the final with a 3-1 aggregate score. as you walked off the pitch, you avoided looking at your former teammates. you were afraid of what you might see in their eyes—anger, disappointment, betrayal.  

later that night, as you lay in bed, your phone buzzed with a message from alexia. 

“we are proud of you. good luck in the final :)”  

it took you a moment to process her words. maybe they didn’t hate you after all.  

as bayern prepared for the champions league final against manchester city, you felt lighter. the weight of barcelona no longer pressed down on you like it used to. 

you would always cherish your time there, but you were starting to realize that your future was here, with bayern.  

and for the first time, you were okay with that.  

masterlist

[michealdontleavemeher3]

hi! i was wondering if you could do a marvel/avengers x reader? where reader came from kind of a bad background and has to kinda learn that eating and doing things is normal and that they dont need to ask for permission. And the avengers realise after watching reader that they actually come from a bad background and tries to reassure that their safe? is that too complicated? SO SORRY IF IT IS. it would be really cool if you just do anything Marvel tho!! BUT OBVIOUSLY NO PRESSURE or anything. Thank you for listening and sorry if you dont understand what i said

Sorry that it took so long😿 but here it is

(also I'm so sorry the other requests are taking so long, I'm kind of busy but I try to write as much as I can when I have time)

Save haven

The Avengers Compound was unlike anything you had ever experienced. It was a fortress of safety, filled with cutting-edge technology and people who were hero's. For someone like you, who had spent years on the streets and in rough situations, it was unreal

You had been given a room of your own. The bed was massive, soft, and the blankets were warm. But even so, you often slept on top of the covers, not wanting to disturb the neatly made bed. You woke up early every morning, creeping out of your room to explore the compound, careful not to make any noise.

The kitchen was the first place you visited, It was always well-stocked, with a variety of foods you hadn’t seen in years. But instead of taking what you wanted, you’d wait until someone else entered, watching them prepare their meal before hesitantly asking if it was okay for you to eat too.

One morning, you lingered by the fridge, your stomach rumbling softly. Tony Stark walked in, still half-asleep, and went straight for the coffee machine. He glanced at you, noticing how you stood there, hands clasped together, your eyes darting between the food and him.

“Morning, kid,” Tony greeted, yawning. “Help yourself. You don’t need to ask.”

You smiled weakly but didn’t move, waiting until he had taken his coffee and left the kitchen before you finally grabbed a small yogurt. You ate it quickly, standing by the counter, before hurrying out to avoid being seen by anyone else.

It wasn’t just in the kitchen. Throughout the day, you found yourself unsure of what you were allowed to do. You asked permission to use the bathroom, take a shower, even to sit down in the common areas. You tried your best to stay out of the way, not wanting to be a burden.

The Avengers started to notice your behavior, though it took some time for them to piece together the full picture. At first, they chalked it up to nerves—after all, you were new, and living with superheroes could be intimidating. But as the days turned into weeks, they began to see that it was more than just nerves.

One afternoon, while everyone was gathered in the common room, you were perched on the edge of an armchair, looking uncomfortable. Natasha was sitting nearby, watching you with quiet concern. She noticed how you stiffened every time someone raised their voice, even in laughter. She saw how you glanced around, seemingly searching for cues on how to act.

When Steve offered you a spot on the couch next to him, you hesitated, eyes wide, as if unsure if you were really allowed. “It’s okay,” he assured you, patting the cushion. “You can sit here.”

You nodded and carefully sat down, but even then, you kept your hands folded in your lap, as if afraid to touch anything. Natasha exchanged a look with Steve, who gave a small, understanding nod.

Later that night, Natasha found you alone in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. You were scrubbing the counters diligently, even though the staff usually took care of it.

“Hey,” Natasha said softly, not wanting to startle you. “You don’t have to do that. We have people who handle the cleaning.”

You paused, turning to face her. “I just… wanted to help. I didn’t want to be useless.”

Natasha’s heart ached at your words. She approached you slowly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’re not useless. You’re part of this team now. You don’t have to earn your place by doing chores or asking for permission. You belong here.”

You looked down, feeling a lump in your throat. “It’s hard to believe that sometimes,” you admitted. “Where I came from, I had to ask for everything. If I didn’t, I’d get in trouble.”

Natasha’s eyes softened, and she guided you to sit down at the kitchen table. “You don’t have to live like that anymore. This is your home now. No one here will hurt you or punish you. You’re safe.”

As she spoke, Steve walked in, having overheard the last part of the conversation. He pulled up a chair and sat down across from you. “We’re your family now,” he said, his voice kind and sincere. “We’re here for you, no matter what. You don’t need to be afraid or ask for permission to be yourself.”

You felt tears welling up, but this time, you didn’t try to hide them. Natasha squeezed your hand, offering silent support, while Steve gave you a reassuring smile. It was the first time in a long while that you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could trust this place—these people.

The next morning, when you entered the kitchen, you saw Tony pouring himself a cup of coffee again. This time, you didn’t wait for permission. You grabbed a bowl, filled it with cereal, and sat down at the table. Tony noticed, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched you take this small, but significant, step.

“Good to see you helping yourself, kid,” Tony remarked casually, taking a seat across from you.

You offered him a shy smile. “I’m trying.”

Over the next few weeks, you found yourself slowly adjusting to life in the compound. Clint would invite you to join him in watching movies, and you began to relax, realizing you didn’t have to wait for an invitation. Wanda started baking with you in the afternoons, teaching you recipes from her childhood, and you felt the joy of doing something just because you wanted to.

The others continued to reassure you in small ways. Steve always made a point to include you in conversations, never letting you feel like an outsider. Thor would leave small treats for you, gifts from his trips off-world, just to see you smile. Bruce offered quiet companionship in the lab, never pressuring you to talk, but always there if you needed someone.

One evening, after a particularly fun movie night with Clint and Sam, you found yourself laughing freely for the first time in ages. The laughter felt foreign, but good, like a weight had been lifted from your chest. You looked around at the team, realizing that you were truly beginning to feel like you belonged.

As everyone said their goodnights and headed to their rooms, Natasha caught your eye. She gave you a small nod, a silent acknowledgment of how far you had come.

“You did good, (Y/N),” she said, her voice soft and full of pride. “You’re doing great.”

You smiled, genuinely this time. “Thanks, Nat. I think I’m starting to believe that I really am safe here.”

She squeezed your shoulder gently before heading off to bed. Alone in the common room, you took a moment to appreciate the warmth and comfort that now surrounded you. It had been a long journey to get here, but for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were truly home.

And in that moment, you knew that this place—this team—was your safe haven.

[lady-phasma]

Fangtober Day 4 - Bondage

Dom!Armand x fem!reader (vampire)

Summary: Reader is a new addition to the Theater and Maître takes a particular interest in her and decides to show her the ropes take her to a private flat for a session, 3.3k words.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, it started out as bondage fluff but then turned into smut, tiny bit of blood play, unprotected sex but vampire sex so not risky.

a/n: Thank you so much to the moot who suggested actor vamp!reader new to the coven. However, I struggled with this one for a while - I finally just powered through it and here it is. fem!reader but reader not described.

So far the initiations and manual labor with the theater hadn’t been so bad. You slogged through your nights, cleaning the rows after the filthy humans left, helping with disposal after performances, whatever was needed. And you were rewarded with pre-dawn camaraderie, as you watched and listed to the elder vampires tell stories, rehearse, or just chat. Occasionally there were nights out among humans. The first few weeks had felt infinitely long, but now you had begun to adjust to a routine.

You began to nurture new and tentative friendships with Celeste and Estelle and even Sam. Even Santiago wasn’t always a cunt to you. As you had settled into the coven you had begun to notice Maître more and more. His eyes missed nothing. Constantly alert, constantly appraising, Armand watched his new addition. You felt an attraction to him that wasn’t there at first. You had been a little intimidated by Maître at the start of your tutelage. but now you wondered what exactly he was thinking about. Maybe it was all in your head.

As you swept the auditorium floor tonight you listened to the coven chatter and almost longed to join in. However, there was a small part of you that was glad to be alone with your chores. You didn’t feel like being seen this evening. Disappearing into the background suited you just fine. You were nearly finished, brushing the trash into the bin, when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Maître,” you bowed as soon as you turned to face him. Armand took a step toward you, slightly entering your personal space.

“Good evening, puce,” he let the words slide off his tongue, emphasizing your station. “Are you almost finished with your duties?”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied happily, almost but not quite looking into his eyes. “I only need to empty this.” You gestured to your trash can.

“Take it to the incinerator then meet me in the lobby. Don’t dally.” Armand left before you could reply.

You dusted off your clothes and ran a hand over your hair, smoothing it down, while you went to the lobby.

“Maître,” you greeted Armand as you entered.

“Walk with me.” He held the door open, allowing you to exit first. You stepped into the cool Autumn air of the city. Halos of mist hung around the street lamps as the evening’s rain slowly evaporated from the pavement. The emptying street had a quality that only late night city streets have, a liminal feeling left behind after the humans were nearly all tucked into their beds.

“Come,” Armand commanded from beside you. You walked in silence, waiting on him to explain or elucidate, but he did not. Not for many blocks. It wasn’t long before you had left the arrondissement and crossed the Seine. Vampire speed, even slowed for public viewing, was still surprisingly fast to you.

“I thought we could go somewhere with more privacy. I have a flat nearby,” he offered, apropos of nothing. He lit a cigarette, offered you one, and smoked for the rest of the walk. He dropped the butt on the pavement and ground it out with the toe of his show before opening the door to the apartment building.

You followed Armand through the doors and up the three flights of stairs to the flat. When you entered and Armand had locked the door behind you, a fire blazed in the fireplace. He took off his coat and hung it on a rack by the door. He tucked his hands in his pockets as he entered the small room. It was modest, a studio with a closet-sized bathroom in one corner, a table in the kitchen area, and a full size bed taking up much more space than the traditional twin bed these apartments usually housed. The only places to sit with the table or bed so you stood, waiting.

Armand strode to the fireplace and made a show of warming his hands over the fire. At first he didn’t turn to look at you when he spoke. You watched his face, lit by the fire, nearly mesmerized by the yellow and orange light in his hair.

“You are no doubt wondering why I brought you here tonight. You show potential, perhaps not to be center stage any time soon, but maybe one day. But you have something…” His voice trailed off as he turned to you and moved to stand directly in front of you. He lightly stroked your cheek.

“Interesting,” he murmured to himself as he appraised you. “You trust me as your Maître, yes?”

“Of course, Maître,” you nodded.

“So if I ask you to do something you would do it without question?” His nails ran down the side of your neck to your shirt collar.

“Yes, Maître.” You didn’t nod this time, something in his face had shifted and a nod felt too unserious.

“Well, puce, if I ask you to do something tonight that you find objectionable, simply say the word ‘aubergine’ and you won’t have to do it.” He smiled gently at the befuddled look on your face as he began to unbutton your blouse. “You can remember that word?”

“Yes, Maître.”

“Perfect.” He took his time opening your shirt while your heart hammered in your chest. You knew he could hear it and it would have embarrassed you, yet… Yet it seemed as if this wasn’t new to him at all.

Armand slipped your blouse off your shoulders. Then he began to work on the buttons of your slacks. You weren’t sure why you were doing this. It wasn’t entirely because he was your Maître. That was certainly part of it, but it felt like a very small part. You mostly felt like you would do anything for this ethereal creature. His hands moved deftly and barely touched your skin as he slid your pants to the floor. You stepped out of the pile of clothing without being told to. You stood still as Armand picked up the shirt and slacks and laid them over the back of a kitchen chair. You felt self-conscious standing in your undergarments, but Armand didn’t look at you in a way that made you uncomfortable. He led you to the bed and directed you to sit.

“You should know, this isn’t about the theater, darling,” he said. “This… is for my own enjoyment.”

You watched him with trepidation and excitement as he opened a drawer in the wardrobe and removed something. It looked like silk cord or rope and your heart raced in your chest again. He laid the bundle of cord on the bed and stepped next to you. He tilted your face up toward his with the lightest pressure of his fingertips.

“Lay down for me,” Armand whispered. You did so. Armand slowly began to unbutton his shirt, then placed it on the kitchen chair as well. He untied and toed off his shoes, placed them neatly beneath the chair, and walked to the bed in in his pants and socks. His movements were maddeningly slow as your mind raced with the possibilities. He untied the bundle of cord and it glistened in the dim light, it looked soft, but strong. He knelt on the bed near your feet as he spoke.

“Bend your knees, press your heels to your rear,” he instructed. You felt your face go hot, a very human response, but you did as you were told. He wrapped the cord around your thigh, then your shin, and tied your leg in a bent position. The cord was silky-smooth against your skin, but the knots were tight. Then he repeated the process on your other leg. You were exposed and vulnerable like this, even with your undergarments still on. You could have easily broken the bonds using your weak, fledgeling strength, but this was far more interesting. Armand took the remaining lengths of cord and moved them to your side.

“Hands above your head, palms together.” You pressed your hands together above your head. He leaned forward, between your legs, and bound your wrists together. Every sensation was more intense now: the fabric of his trousers rough against your inner thighs, the drag of his fingers over your camisole, grazing your hard nipples. He stood up and your eyes followed him as he walked to the table and sat in the empty chair. He tapped a cigarette from his pack, lit it, and smoked. He didn’t rush. You tried not to let your thoughts show on your face, but you knew you failed. Your brow was furrowed as you waited on him. The cords dug into your skin even though you had barely moved at all. Your normally shallow and slow vampire breathing sped up. Your cunt throbbed.

After an eternity, Armand stood and approached the bed. He trailed his fingers down one of your knees, down your shin to where the cord crossed your leg. You shivered. He moved to kneel on the bed, between your legs again. Slowly he slid a hand up your belly, under your camisole. His fingertips brushed against the undersides of your breasts. You gasped at his touch. As he moved his hand back down, he used both to gently press your thighs apart. Even that small movement caused the cord to shift against your skin. You sucked air sharply between your teeth. He let his fingers slide down the insides of your thighs and gently touched you over your panties. You could feel your wetness against the fabric and moaned. You tried to lift your hips to his touch, but it was nearly impossible in this position. The cords seemed to tighten as your legs shifted. You moaned as he pulled his fingers away, craving more of him.

Armand didn’t make you wait long. His long fingers slid up your buttocks to where the cord held you, then moved his hands up your hips. He leaned forward, almost hovering above you. He dipped his head and brushed his lips against your nipple through the thin fabric. He licked gently, leaving a damp spot above the hard point of your nipple. You involuntarily arched your back to get closer to his mouth and whined when your bonds prevented it.

“Maître, please,” you begged.

“Please what?” Armand quipped back, but his tone was patient.

“More please, Maître,” the sound of your voice was almost pathetic to your own ears, but you didn’t care. You watched him through half-closed eyes as he rubbed his hands gently up and down your sides. His thumbs occasionally grazing a nipple. He slid your camisole up over your breasts and sucked one of your nipples between his teeth. You could have cried out from the shock, but the pressure was so light that you could only pant. You still needed more. You wanted to touch him, run your fingers through his dark curls, down his neck, press yourself into his mouth.

Before you could beg again he sucked harder on your nipple and pressed his hips between your legs. You made an inhuman sound as the front of his pants rubbed against your panties and your sensitive lips. He sucked and licked your nipple with increased focus, getting caught up in the sensations and grinding his hips in slow circles. The pressure of his cock against you was a momentary relief. Then he pulled back.

“So needy,” Armand growled as he kissed down your stomach. He rose up to look at you as his fingers delved under the edge of your panties at the crease of your hips. Slowly, teasingly, he moved your panties to the side. He trailed his finger over you aching, swollen cunt, dipping just into your folds before leaving you wanting more.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered as he looked into your heavily-lidded eyes. “So well for me.”

“Yes, Maître,” was all you could think to say, the words most likely inaudible to a human, but he heard.

Armand continued to hold your panties aside as he leaned down and kissed just above your slit. He flicked his tongue over your clit and you twitched, moaning and whining. He smiled and licked harder, his tongue sliding between your lips. He moaned and the vibration sent chills up your spine. He teased you, not offering you any satisfaction, over your clit, down to your entrance, and back up. You wanted to beg and plead, but tried to bite back the words. Whimpering moans escaped your mouth, incoherent sounds, as you shifted and pulled against the restraints. You made no effort to break free. You could have, but the need for him to touch you, to keep doing this, was nearly overwhelming.

When Armand sat up he let go of your panties and began to unbutton his pants. You groaned louder than you intended. The thought that he would reward you, give you what you craved, flew through your mind.

“Yes, a small reward for such good behavior,” he grinned. “Perhaps I’ll even give you a release.” He slid his pants and boxers off his hips. You stared unabashedly. He was gorgeous. His dark hair caught the low light of the room, his chest rippled as he moved his pants further down, the muscles of his stomach flexing tautly. He stroked his cock lightly as he moved closer to you. Your legs strained against the cord. You watched him watch as he lined up and pressed his cock against you. He looked up and met your gaze. Yes? he asked silently. You nodded. When he slid into you it felt as if all of your bonds tightened. Your hands itched to reach for him, but you kept them above your head. Your thighs and shins seemed to press against the cord as you widened your legs to make room for his hips.

“God,” he moaned as he sank all the way into you. He steadied himself with a hand on each of your knees as he began slow, long strokes. Every time he pressed into you, the cords binding you shifted and dug a little harder. His eyes nearly closed as he increased his pace, hands sliding down to grip your thighs, then hips. The combination of sensations was exquisite. Every movement, every thrust, intensified by your inability to move.

Armand moaned softly as he slid into you over and over. His eyes flicked between your face and watching himself disappear into your cunt. His fingers tightened on your hips slightly as he moved faster. You whimpered as you grew even more desperate to touch him. Just my hands, you thought. Armand looked up at you with a nearly compassionate expression and leaned forward. You lifted your hands, still bound, and ran your fingers through his hair. The new contact combined with the forward shift of his hips drew a groan from your throat. As you stroked his hair, he almost seemed to purr. His sounds were soft and deep. He kissed your neck and collarbone as he pounded into you.

The mingling of your voices, your need, filled the small apartment. You grazed your nails against Armand’s scalp. He moaned and cursed against your skin. You clenched tight around him, so close, so desperate. You tried rolling your hips again, despite your bonds, this time disregarding the pain. You continued to ignore the part of your mind that insisted you could break them and be free. He wanted this, needed this, and you wanted to give it to him.

“Oh Maître,” you whined into his dark curls. You felt a small shudder pass over his body and continued. “You feel so good. Harder. Please.” Your words came out as breathy whispers, a pleading note in your voice.

Armand shifted his weight to one hand on the bed and slid the other up behind your shoulder. He pulled you down onto his cock as he thrust up and you cried out. He lifted his head to look at you and you saw that he was almost smirking. Hearing you beg was exactly what he wanted. He licked his lips and leaned down, kissing your hungrily. His hips slammed into yours and you moaned and whined into his mouth. Lips and tongues and fangs collided. You tasted your own blood in your mouth and arched your back. Armand sucked at the wound on your bottom lip, his movements becoming slightly erratic. You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled back, gasping.

“Please Maître,” you looked into his eyes. “I want you to come.” He nearly smiled before kissing you again, licking the remaining blood from your already-healed lip. You barely noticed when he freed your wrists, his movements were so quick, and before the cord had slid off he muttered against your mouth.

“Touch yourself, puce, now.” Armand’s command alone could almost have been enough to bring your climax. You groaned as you slid your hand between your bodies. You looked at his face as you circled your clit, watching his reaction to how you tightened around him. He closed his eyes in the most beautiful expression of peace and pleasure. His hips began to stutter just a bit and you increased the pressure of your fingers as you brought yourself closer. You both groaned and panted as your climaxes neared. You closed your eyes and inhaled as you focused on his body above you, the way he moved inside you, the way his balls hit your ass with each thrust, the way you squeezed your thighs against his hips, the way his breath was hot on your skin. Your orgasm seemed to tense in all your muscles, starting everywhere at once, then it rushed over you. Your thighs shook. Your hand slowed as your arms trembled.

Armand nearly growled into your ear as you came around him. He thrust a few more times and, nails digging into your shoulder to hold you against him, he came hard. Mumbled curses and praise floated past your ear, but you were too far gone to pick out single words. He lay on top of you for a moment, balls emptying, cock twitching and softening, before pressing himself up to kneel between your legs again. He gently stroked a finger around from your temple, to your cheek, and along your jaw. Then he slowly began to pull out and you groaned as you felt his cum move with him. It was a singular and delightful feeling, but stimulation was becoming overstimulation with your legs still bound.

Armand knew this and as he knelt he began to untie your legs. He didn’t move slowly, but he took his time. Even though you were no longer human, he rubbed the skin of your legs where the cord had been as gently as if you were. He helped you straighten out your legs, one at a time, slowly and with care, with expertise. He stayed kneeling between your legs for a bit longer as he massaged them until they were flat on the bed. You watched with a mixture of awe and adoration. You also couldn’t help but to notice that he was equally gorgeous, soft and spent, as he was when he had started. You looked at him between your legs and felt a deepening attraction. This was a side of Armand that a select few were allowed to see and you were now included among them. Deftly, he slid his clothes off the rest of the way and lay on the bed next to you.

“Come here, puce,” he said with a tone that was more of an invitation than a command. He circled an arm around you and pulled you next to him. You laid your head on his chest and rested your hand on his stomach. You rolled half onto your side, wanting as much contact with him as possible. You let your hand travel up his stomach to play with the hair on his chest as you lay in his arm.

“Thank you, Maître,” you whispered as you closed your eyes.

Fangtober 2024 prompt list • Main masterlist

[rosie-read-that]

a nonsense christmas / tyler owens x reader

summary: an unexpected snowstorm traps tyler owens with his workplace nemesis over the holidays. bonus points: there was only one bed.

content warnings: f!reader, allusions to smut

word count: 9k

author’s note: happy holidays! 🎄🎊🤶🏻🕎 i hope they were merry and bright and as stress-free as possible. thank you so much for supporting my three little fics. this is unedited, but i wanted to post it before i went out of town as a gift made specially for the glen girlies - i wrote it to bring you some december cheer. see you next year!

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Over the span of the last twelve hours you’d lost count of the number of times you’d muttered that sentence underneath your breath.

First, it was the office building in New York, where Tyler had the appointment right after yours at a ritzy funding agency. Then it was the airport, where you’d both flown standby and had a Wild West confrontation over the last seat on the plane, only for another passenger to volunteer their place in exchange for a travel voucher. (“It’s not like I’m in a rush to see my family, anyway.”) The woman manning the desk had given you both a look that said, “See, this is how an adult behaves,” which you thought was rich when the guy was clearly trying to cheat his way out of a Christmas dinner. Then, Tyler got assigned the seat behind you on the plane, and in keeping with his infuriating personality, spent the entire flight kicking your seat - or, I’m sorry, just trying to stretch his legs.

After landing, you’d raced to the same rental car company. The woman at this desk kept pointing out that the weather seemed dire and that a snowstorm might hit at any moment, to which you assured her that you weren't headed far—a lie—and glared at Tyler’s back before shuffling into the parking lot with your borrowed keys, hoping his heater would break or that an ex-girlfriend had broken into his house during his absence and left coal in his stocking.

It turned out that the woman at Enterprise was right. The weather was dire; your visibility was shot to hell after the first forty miles, leaving you to squint through the flurry-turned-blizzard, your knuckles white on the steering wheel as you inched forward in your seat, as though you could magically see through the storm if only you pressed your nose just so to the windshield.

After a while you gave up and started to admit that unless you wanted to turn into a human Popsicle, you might need a Plan B. You let out a weary sigh, listening to the weather report on the radio—“If you're safe and cozy at home, it's gonna be a white Christmas, folks, but if you're out on the road, I suggest taking cover and waiting it out for Santa Claus to slide down the chimney.”

You scanned the passing road signs for fast food restaurants, gas stations, and rest stops, even took a few exits just to be hit with NO VACANCY in bright neon reds, making mental calculations for the rest of your trip.

Home was still a long way off: three hours, after dark. Normally you’d power through with an extra-large coffee, but it was snowing, and your window to remain safely on the road was closing with every passing minute.

Dammit.

After the fourth failed attempt at finding lodgings, you sat in the driver’s seat with the heater on and called your sister.

She answered after a few rings. In the background you heard your nephew and nieces screaming their heads off in that kid way. God, you loved those little rugrats but they were undoubtedly a nightmare—you imagined Margo plugging up one of her ears and waving at them to be quiet. Of course, to no avail.

“Where are you?” she demanded, the accusation sharp in her voice. You knew to expect it, so instead of answering, “Well, hello to you too, I can’t control the weather, in case you haven’t noticed,” you went with a plain response, facts only.

“Somewhere in the middle of Benburg.”

“Where?”

“Exactly.”

You heard her sigh. “The snow’s getting pretty bad.”

“No shit.”

“Hey, don't ‘no shit’ me! I told you traveling right before Christmas Eve was going to be a nightmare.”

“And I told you I had no choice.”

She paused. There was whispering on the other end, an almost-silence that put your body on high alert until, finally, she said, “Mom wants to talk to you.”

“Margo, no!”

Your protests fell on deaf ears. The phone was jostled as your mother took it and began to speak.

“Honey, are you almost here?”

Covering your face with your hands, you kept your voice light, knowing she’d be able to detect even the smallest hint of frustration, and then you’d have to put up with another round of “why on earth did you take a meeting in New York right before the holidays?”

“No, mom, I’ve still got a-ways to go.”

You pictured her narrowing her eyes, maybe placing a hand on her cocked hip.

“How long a-ways?”

“Less than two hours,” you lied.

It was absolutely more than two hours.

A pause. “Well, I guess that's okay.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Through gritted teeth and the voice of a demented schoolteacher, you added, “Mom, can you put Margo back on the phone now, please?”

“She wants to talk to you,” you heard her saying from a distance.

After some more jostling, you felt the caller change as you merged back onto the highway and left the motel behind.

“Marg, can you tell her to cut me some slack, please? I’m doing my best.”

“Ha!”

You glared at the console, hoping she could feel it over the phone.

“Gee, thanks! So much for the Christmas spirit!”

“Listen, when you have three kids, two dogs, a husband, all of your in-laws, your parents, and your stepmom breathing down your neck, I’ll have a little more sympathy.”

“Fine… But I promise I’m not leaving you in the lurch on purpose. My flight from New York got delayed, I had some asshole kicking me in the kidneys the whole time, and I can barely see a yard in front of me because of this storm—it’s not exactly a walk in the park for me either.”

No cigar; it was you who felt her glare over the phone this time. Clearly, her issues outweighed all of yours on this occasion, and knowing her sister-in-law, you were inclined to agree.

You added: “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’d better.”

The wipers on your rented car worked overtime to clear your windshield. You were about to end the call to focus on driving when, up ahead, you saw the red and blue lights of a highway patrol vehicle stopping traffic.

“Oh shit,” you muttered under your breath.

“What?”

“The road is closed.”

“The whole road?”

“Yeah, Marg, the whole road.” She would've argued with you over your tone, except you cut her off with “Hold on—I’m being flagged down.”

A middle-aged man with a mustache came over to your car. He was wearing a fuzzy hat and holding a flashlight now that the purpling sky was fading to black. Without being asked, you lowered your window and shivered at the stream of icy wind that cut through the artificial heat.

“Evening, officer.”

“Good evening. Where’re you headed?”

“Sayre or roundabouts.”

“Rough night to be doing so. This road is no good, you're gonna have to turn around, find a place to wait it out for the night.”

Your heart sank. You knew Margo was listening to everything. By the time you made it home, your ledger would have a massive list in the red which she’d make you pay off somehow—by doing the dishes, playing horse with the kids, or worse, entertaining Kayleen, who would say as she always did that you really ought think about having children soon unless you wanted to get used to “a self-absorbed lifestyle.”

God forbid.

“Do you know anywhere that might have a last-minute vacancy?” you asked the officer, whose shiny name tag read HARRIS.

He scratched behind his ear, twisting his mouth in thought.

“Try the Sunnyside Inn. Back this way to Fairmont, right after the exit, left on Vail.”

“Thank you.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Right. Merry Christmas.”

You put your window back up.

“Did you catch that?”

“Sounds like you're grounded,” said Margo. Her eyebrow must be arched because the judgment could be heard loud and clear—if you hadn’t gone to New York…

Well, there was nothing you could do about it now.

“It’s meant to clear up by morning. I’ll still be there long before Christmas.”

“You’d better be.” She sighed.

Your niece Haley was screaming out the words to “The Twelve Days of Christmas” like a possessed banshee and giggling at what she knew must be an ear-splitting performance. You didn't know whether to be more horrified or amused; you remembered doing something similar when you were a child, back when you didn't have to worry about spreadsheets and grants and the trials and tribulations of flying Economy during the worst time of the year.

Margo must be thinking the same. Her tone sounded a little more sympathetic when she said, “Drive safe, and let me know when you find somewhere to spend the night.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Don’t get murdered.”

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t try—do. Someone’s got to help me defuse the tension during Christmas dinner.”

“Me? Defuse tension?”

“Good point.”

After hanging up, you followed Officer Harris’s directions to the Sunnyside Inn. Wherever it was in relation to the highway, there weren’t any signs you could see from the road and it reminded you of a famous, albeit fictional, location where people did go to end up murdered.

You only hoped whoever was on duty at the check-in desk had zero resemblance to Norman Bates or you’d have no choice but to sleep in your car.

Ten minutes later, you arrived at a quaint little building like something out of a Hallmark movie with six parking spaces and no neon out front. The facade was fake stone, the ornamental bushes lining the circular drive covered in a postcard layer of fresh snow. The wooden sign read VACANCY and had an empty slot where the NO might go, which gave you the tiniest sliver of hope, tempered by the thought that a place like this might not pay the utmost attention to a detail like that, especially in the middle of a storm. All in all, it was the sort of place you stayed at when you had no choice, being off the beaten track, but it looked as well maintained as it could be given its age, which you dated back to the 70s because of its slanted roof.

You parked and got your suitcase out of the trunk, the wheels clattering and then coming to an abrupt stop when you saw a figure across the way doing the same with his black carry-on.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you called out.

Tyler Owens grinned. Even from here you could see the dimple on his cheek.

“Road closed?” he asked, still walking towards the entrance. You did the same, glaring as you tried to keep pace with him—no, tried to beat him to the front door.

“You know it is,” you answered, eyes narrowed, dashing the rest of the way just for his hand to reach the metal pull bar first. Damn his longer limbs.

With a smile, he opened the door and waved you through like a Manhattan doorman.

“Ladies first.”

“Wow, I didn't think you were remotely a gentleman.”

“What gave you that impression?”

You brushed past him into the heated lobby, pausing long enough for him to close the door so you could send him a pointed look.

“Oh, I don’t know… maybe your knee on my back?” you enunciated.

“I told you—that was an honest mistake.”

“Right.”

The Sunnyside had a single check-in desk that looked more like the host’s stand at your favorite restaurant than the counter at the cheapest Marriott, but it was decked in cute bells and garlands and baubles that glittered in the light. Behind it stood a woman around your age with straight, shoulder-length hair partially covered by a Santa hat.

As soon as she saw you walking in, she pushed the red strands out of her face and cleared her throat visibly before launching into a practiced spiel.

“Welcome to the Sunnyside Inn, where every day is sunny!”

She was smiling from ear to ear. The effect was a little like that of the creepy twins in The Shining and bah, humbug, were you not in the mood.

“Can I have a room for the night, please?”

You were made to feel guilty by the sudden fall of her face. But clearly Carol—you had to do a double take. Was her name really Carol? At-Christmastime Carol?—had gone to one hell of a customer service training program. Instead of letting your frown turn her smile upside down, she tacked it on with impressively greater fervor. The bell at the end of her hat rattled as she cleared her throat again.

“You’re in luck! We have one vacant room left in the entire hotel—continental breakfast included!”

“I’m sorry,” Tyler butted in, “did you say only one room?”

“Yes, er…” She looked between you, biting her glossed lip. “Is that a problem?”

“We’re not together,” you said, refusing to look in Tyler’s direction. 

Carol blushed. She was so pale that you thought it might be her actual blood you were seeing rising to her face and turning a shade of Veruca Salt. Or was it Violet Beauregarde?

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “I thought—well… you arrived together.”

“We arrived separately.”

“That’s not what it looked like.”

She blinked owlishly. Your own face was heating up as you felt Tyler putting his hand on his hip and sending you a shit-eating grin. You wouldn’t hear the end of this. You could practically hear him bringing it up at a later date, saying, “You’d be so lucky.”

You felt your jaw lock and your dentist cry. Lips together, teeth apart! She’d obviously never met anyone like Tyler Owens before.

“I can assure you, that's what it is,” you said in a steel-laced voice.

Carol might be an A+ at the customer service thing, but you were an A+ at staring people down until they begged for mercy. The only person you knew who was better at it was Margo, and the only person immune to it—though it drove you crazy to no end—was standing next to you, all six feet of him, in a jacket with snow at the shoulders that had quickly melted and rolled off the fabric. Shoulders… his annoyingly broad shoulders, which you’d had occasion to see with more frequency than you would’ve liked, dressed in what Samantha, one of your colleagues, described as his “slutty little white tees.”

It wasn’t enough for him to be a perpetual thorn in your side, he had to be attractive too, thereby proving that there was no God or that, Whoever they were, they must have an evil sense of humor.

“I’m so sorry.” Carol hung her head. Her hat drooped, the glitter-paper trimming on her suit drooped—there was a high chance that she was actually an elf and you’d just worked your way onto Santa’s Naughty list. Come midnight, you’d be visited by the ghosts of all your ex-lovers and Sarah DeAngelo, your high school nemesis.

Meanwhile, Tyler swooped in like the big hero.

“No worries, I’ll just stay at the next place,” he said. “What is the next place?”

“That would be the Cozy Roadside! But they're all booked up, I’m afraid… It's the storm, you see. Everyone’s trying to hunker down for the night.”

“Right…”

Well, he was taking it better than you’d have done—though it was clear he wasn’t jumping for joy at the thought of turning around and trying his luck in the growing whiteout.

And that was if there weren't more road closures along the way.

“Are you sure you're not together? I’m just saying… it is the holidays.” Carol’s little damn bell jingled again. Could you be charged with assault if you snatched it off her head? you wondered.

You pinned her with a stare and she had the temerity to flinch like a little cartoon dormouse.

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning, it's a time to let bygones be bygones! You make such a lovely couple…” Her laugh was high-pitched, nervous.

You might have ruffled like an angry bird of prey. “We are not—”

“Absolutely not,” said Tyler.

“‘Absolutely’?”

It was the closest you’d ever come to seeing Tyler crack under the force of your EF5 stare. He looked sheepish, his hands in his pockets, giving a little hunkered down shrug that might have been read as boyish and kind of adorable to someone else.

“Listen”—turning to Carol before you could rip him to shreds—“do you know of anywhere I could stay until the roads open up again?”

“I’m sorry, no.”

“What about the lobby?”

“I would if it were up to me, but it's against hotel policy. I could get a write-up.”

This hotel has a policy? You stopped yourself from blurting out the words. There was still a chance this Strawberry Shortcake of a person was one of Santa’s little helpers and, if you kept up being a meanie, you’d end up going to the Bad Place—the Bad Place being the seat next to Margo’s sister-in-law at dinner.

You sighed. “Does my room have a couch?”

“It has a chair,” Carol offered.

You exhaled through your nostrils like an angry bull—would the creature metaphors ever cease? Turning to Tyler, you held up a finger and said, “You’re gonna owe me big time,” and fished your wallet out of your bag.

You slammed your card onto the stand and waited for Carol to check you in. She took out a book from a little cubby and took down your name and ID number, then fiddled with one of those old-school credit card imprinters, the ones you had to use actual elbow grease to use.

“I can have extra linens sent up! And I’ll give you our Friends and Family rate—in honor of the season!”

You have got to be kidding me…

Tyler put his hand on your elbow, stopping your words.

“Thank you, Carol, you've been a real gem.”

Carol flushed again, preening under Tyler’s cowboy charm. I’m gonna be sick, you thought, grabbing your suitcase by the handle and wheeling towards the stairs before you could say anything else.

Your case banged against each carpet-covered step. Tyler was behind you, carrying his without sounds of trouble. You supposed that was a benefit to having arms the size of tree trunks, but you’d rather drop dead on this commercial grade floor than ask him for help.

To drown out the sound of the obvious weakness in your upper half, you adopted a high-pitched baby voice that was nothing like Tyler’s and said, “‘You’ve been a gem, Carol,’” just to mock him.

From Tyler came a huffed-out laugh. “Why, ’re you jealous?”

“As if. I hope your chair has bedbugs,” you called over your shoulder, arriving at the landing and looking for room 227. You unlocked the door without waiting, tossing your bag and coat onto the bed to stake your claim.

In the open doorway, Tyler paused to stare at the promised bit of furniture.

“Oh,” came out of his throat. “When she said chair, I thought she meant…”

You followed his gaze. Like Tyler, you’d pictured a dusty old recliner when Carol guilted you into sharing a room with him. The relic actually taking up space across from the queen-sized bed was a chair that might have come out of your high school principal’s office. The seat was covered in a similar material to the carpet, deep purple, not falling apart at the seams, but still just a chair.

Not in your wildest dreams would you think of making an enemy sleep on a thing like that. And here you were, poking fun at sweet, freckle-faced Carol… sweet, sweet Carol who had done you a bigger solid than you could’ve ever imagined.

Tomorrow at check-out, you were going to leave her a $50 tip. You might name your firstborn after her.

You looked at Tyler. He looked at you. The poor man was aghast, and the more he glanced despondently at his abode for the next eight hours, the funnier it got until you were cackling, actually cackling like a Disney witch.

You unzipped your suitcase and took out your toiletries bag, still laughing as you stepped into the room’s bathroom and sent him a little wave.

“Sweet dreams, Owens!”

Hell, it was Christmas—you’d be leaving Carol an even $100.

-

You made a point of taking your time in the shower, luxuriating both in the steam and the dejected look on Tyler’s face. A chair! An actual chair! After finishing, you took the robe hanging off the hook, figuring it was your prerogative as a lady, and opened the door just the tiniest crack to see what Tyler was up to. What you saw made you snatch your phone off the counter and leap from your hiding place like a fearless war photographer.

The shutter clicked, a series of lightning-quick flashes that caught Tyler’s attention. By the time he whipped his head to the side with a glare and a command to “delete that!” you’d snapped half-a-dozen photographs of his position on the makeshift “bed.”

Carol must have sent up linens while you were in the shower because he’d pushed the chair up against the coffee table in a futile attempt to be more comfortable; his legs stuck out to a truly comical degree and he was covered in a floral blanket that could only be described as grandmotherly. Your phone—bless it—had captured the exact moment of shock mixed with absolute indignity.

There was no way he’d be able to sleep without falling over. You only hoped that when he inevitably fell on his ass it happened with enough volume to wake you from the sound sleep you’d be having in bed by yourself.

You tucked your phone in your pocket, smiling like one of Hell’s angels.

“Absolutely not,” you said to his request. “Shower's yours.”

Tyler grabbed a bundle of things off the floor.

“Let me guess, you used up all the hot water.”

“You wound me,” you lied. “I’d never be so petty.”

He scoffed, gestured to his eyes in the universal symbol of I’m watching you and moved past, locking the bathroom door with a resolute click.

A few moments later, you heard the sound of the shower turning on and settled into bed—your lovely, only-yours bed—pleased that the sheets were clean, the mattress soft, the pillows comfortable, and debated whether or not to turn on the TV, but the shower taps squealed sooner than you expected.

Huh. Guess Tyler isn’t a fan of an ice-cold rinse.

You rushed to turn off the bedside lamp, adopting a deep-sleep pose. You barely managed in the time it took him to pad out into the main room, bringing with him a warm, clean, soapy smell.

You held your breath, imagined he could tell you were faking—especially when he paused his movements at the foot of your bed. But then his footsteps moved towards his sad little chair and he turned off his own light.

All you heard for a while was the rustling of sheets, the creaking of the chair beneath his weight. There was a moment of total silence when you almost fell asleep. Then he tossed and turned. The chair protested. You heard him groan.

“Y’alright over there?” you asked, hoping the answer was no.

Tyler’s words were laced with sarcasm.

“Who, me? Just peachy.”

“Nighty-night, then.”

You sighed contentedly and dozed, thinking about Tyler’s future back pain and the satisfaction of winning Carol over to your side with a generous tip. Take that, Tyler’s dimples! The problem was, you actually wanted to get a few hours’ sleep; there was still a fair bit of driving left for you to do, and Tyler just wouldn't shut up.

You heard every creak, shift, and sound of frustration.

Finally, you sat up and growled, “Could you try being more quietly uncomfortable?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to sleep.”

“I can hear your breathing all the way over here!”

“That's not my breathing,” he said, “that’s your guilty conscience.”

You glared into the dark. I will not let him get the better of me. You took a fortifying breath and kept your voice light—viciously light.

“You know, there’s still time for you to sleep in your car. You’ll be the first person ever to be cryogenically frozen.”

“That's not how cryogenics works, you muppet.”

You launched a pillow in his direction, pleased when it made contact. He sat up and protested, “Hey!”

“Did you just call me a muppet?! You know, if you disappeared I could always blame the storm.”

“Carol would remember me,” he rejoined.

“Maybe I’ll disappear Carol too.”

“Wow, two bodies? Sounds like you'll have your work cut out for you.”

“I’m very resourceful.”

“Oh, I bet you are…”

Argh! Slamming your fists down, you ground out the words you’d been holding back ever since you saw his grinning rodeo-ass face in New York:

“There is no way I’m letting you win that Heller Grant!”

Your nostrils flared, chest heaved, eyes all but emitted laser beams. Tyler, for his part, remained annoyingly composed.

“I don't think that's up to you. But,” he added, “I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you.”

“Really? And why’s that?”

“No reason, just a friendly head’s up.”

“Something tells me there’s nothing friendly about it.”

He paused. “Hey, what’s a little harmless competition between meteorologists, right?”

“…Did you really just ask that question?”

You both knew scientists were messy as fuck. Denying that they could be egotistical, overly dramatic, delicate with their egos, and especially prone to schadenfreude was a cheap attempt on Tyler’s part.

He chuckled, as if admitting it was true.

“Fine, touché. But it’s really not personal. It's a grant—everyone wants to win it. It’s not like we’re trying to run you out of business or anything.”

“Oh, believe me, we aren’t worried about that,” you shot back. “Everyone knows Kate Carter is the ace up your sleeve. But that’s it—one ace.”

“One ace is all you need.”

“Not in this economy it’s not.”

“It’s about the storms!” Tyler said. “You do get that, don't you? Saving lives, limiting damage…”

“Right, I forgot—you're Saint Tyler, the Tornado Wrangler for profit!” you mocked.

There was a silence in the room, accusatory. Deafening. After this, you were definitely going on Santa’s Naughty list, you thought, not only this year but for at least fifteen to life.

“Sorry, that was shitty,” you admitted, swallowing your pride.

“Yeah, it was. You have no idea why I do what I do. And obviously I have no idea why you’re such a—”

“Bitch?” you supplied.

“I wouldn't use that word. I wouldn't,” he reiterated seriously. “I was going to say ‘why you’re such a bee in my bonnet.’”

You let out a snort. “Shut up.”

“Has anyone ever told you you're unreasonably distrustful?”

“Only about three-point-five therapists.”

“Why the point-five?” he asked.

“One was a grad student.”

He laughed. “Guess weather research doesn’t pay—even if you do wear fancy suits.”

That made you smile. You and Tyler were as diametrically opposed as two could people get, even down to your clothes.

“Let’s just agree,” you said, remembering the spirit of the season, “that we rub each other the wrong way and leave it at that.”

“Hey, I’ve never had a problem with you. I mean, yeah, we’re always up against each other for funding. It’s a race to the top—winner takes all, whoever publishes first gets the bragging rights. But that’s the game—I know that. Now, if you have a problem with me, this seems like as good a time as any to clear the air because I really have no idea what I could've done to make you hate my guts like this.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, sure, be the mature one, take the high road… Tell me, Owens, does it ever get exhausting being so fucking perfect all the time?”

Another pause.

“What the hell are you going on about?” The chair creaked. “‘Perfect’? I’ve never said I was—FUCK!”

You perked up, reached an arm to turn on the light. Tyler was sprawled on the floor. The coffee table and chair were no longer attached and he was nursing what looked to be his hip while kicking at the granny blanket tangled round legs.

“Did you just fall into the gap?” you said eagerly, trying to record the image in your brain.

He wrestled the blanket until he finally won, then stood resentfully, his hair mussed, a crazed look in his eyes.

“Yes, I fell into the gap! But there was no video evidence,” he said pointing. “You can’t prove it. At this rate, it might be smarter to sleep on the floor.”

“Looks like it.”

You watched him kick the chair away with his foot and lay the blanket on top of the coarse brown carpet. He tossed his pillow down and picked up the sheet, holding it in front of his body and looking like he might actually prefer to try his luck in the parking lot than on the inhospitable floor. You observed him with interest, biting your thumbnail and watching his throat move with a sigh, the dejected set of his shoulders, the strong jaw set until it looked like it would break glass.

“Oh, fine!” you said. “You look like my senior dog trying to decide where to lay down!”

“You have a dog?” he asked with enough skepticism to be insulting.

“She lives with my sister.”

“What’s her name?” His jaw relaxed, eyes softened.

“Doppler. Don’t laugh!” you exclaimed, though it fell on deaf ears.

“That’s kind of… really nerdy.”

“Do you want to sleep on the floor?”

“I’m sleeping on the floor anyway.”

You whipped the covers off the left side of the bed. Tyler’s eyes almost bugged out of his head.

“No.”

“Come on, Owens, I don't have cooties.”

“It’s not about the cooties, I’m trying not to get killed Basic Instinct-style!”

You knew the scene: Sharon Stone fucking her rock star boyfriend before stabbing him to death with an ice pick. Unbidden, your mind filled with images of Tyler underneath you, his throat bared to you as you rode him.

“You wish!”

Tyler looked at you sternly.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“We’ll make a divider out of pillows!” you suggested, starting the master feat of engineering by plopping all your extra ones vertically down the center of the bed.

You didn’t know where this sudden stroke of generosity had come from. Only ten minutes before you would’ve been perfectly fine—nay, ecstatic—to know that Tyler was about to spend six hours in pain and discomfort.

Maybe it was your guilty conscience. Maybe he’d convinced you that this vendetta you had against him was one-sided and kind of silly. Maybe you just wanted to get some damn sleep without feeling like you were racking up bad karma by not offering to share the bed.

He eyed your attempts like a skeptic, his hands on his hips.

Damn, they were slutty little white tees… you thought.

“This is ridiculous,” he pointed out. And yet he’d dropped the sheet and stopped all attempts at sleeping on the floor like an imprisoned martyr.

“Ridiculous” was a good way to describe what the start of this holiday was turning out to be. If you’d told your past self that come December 23rd you’d be sharing a hotel room, even a bed, with Tyler Owens, you’d have laughed in your own face. But here it was—courtesy of the weather, a possible redheaded Christmas elf, and a series of minor coincidences that had all resulted in this: you shrugging and saying, “Tell me something I don’t know. Tick-tock,” you added with a clap for emphasis, “my goodwill has a time limit!”

“Very festive of you. Are you sure this is okay?”

He approached you with a cautious air, turning down the covers like you might yell “psych!” and attack him at any moment. Even when he laid himself down, it was at the very edge of the bed, and you thought he might end up on the floor anyway given a hasty mid-sleep roll, but then, that would be his own doing and he’d have nothing else to blame but his own clumsiness.

“Just keep your hands to yourself,” you decreed.

“Obviously.”

You turned the light off.

This isn’t so bad, you thought. If you closed your eyes, you could almost forget he was there. You hummed to yourself, snuggling down, finally making headway on the quest for rest and relaxation. Twenty minutes passed, maybe an hour. Hell, it might have been two—all you knew was that Tyler was not keeping up his end of the bargain.

“You’re encroaching on my space!” you hissed, pushing back against pillows that had moved to your side of the bed.

Tyler turned, not remorseful in the least. “I’ve got, like, half-a-foot on you! What do you want me to do?”

“That’s sizeist,” you sniffed.

There was a sound from his direction.

“Are you laughing?” you accused.

“Yeah, I’m laughing… You’re funny. And that’s how I know I don’t have a problem with you.”

You were unexpectedly pleased, despite his bed theft and the rehashing of your previous conversation. No one had ever called you funny before, though you’d always thought you were.

Tyler Owens thinks I’m funny?

So sue me—you were only human and not above hoarding little compliments.

“What did you mean,” he started to ask, shifting so that he could lay on his back, “about me being ‘perfect’? Not that I don’t find it flattering, it's just not true at all and it didn't sound like a good thing, by the way that you said it.”

You kept silent, staring at the A/C unit attached to the wall.

“I know you’re not asleep!” he declared, poking you in the back.

“And how would you know what I sound like asleep?”

“Well, it wouldn't sound like speaking, now would it?”

Shit. He had a point.

You let out a sigh, regretting your magnanimity now that you were in a dark room side-by-side with the man and couldn't avoid his charm or the ease he inspired like magic.

You’d always found that the most unsettling thing about him.

“You’re gonna get the grant,” you admitted with more sincerity than you meant. In your voice you could hear the layers of frustration and insecurity and anger and disappointment that you couldn’t face in the day, when you had people counting on you and a reputation to uphold.

Tyler was quiet a moment.

“You don't know that.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m not good with the whole… schmoozing thing. Not like you are.”

“Schmoozing?” he asked.

“That’s what it is! You’re good with people.”

“So are you.”

“No, I’m not,” you laughed bitterly, craning your neck to say it over your shoulder. “I’m prickly.”

“That’s bullshit,” Tyler said. “And, anyway, this is research, not a personality contest.”

“Ha!”

“You do know there are plenty of prickly scientists out there getting people to throw money at them all the time? Sometimes, it’s the pricklier the better—people think that if you're really a genius, you should treat everyone around you like the bottom of the garbage pail.”

“It’s different for you,” you pointed out.

“How so?”

You sat up, eyeing his shadowed form.

“Well, sweetie, there’s this thing called discrimination—it’s what happens when having certain anatomy makes people more inclined to think you know what you're doing.”

“Very profound… That’s not what you meant.”

He was right. While sexism did come into funding, as it came into a lot of things where it had no place, your main gripe about Tyler had nothing to do with him being a man and everything to do with him being, well, him.

You raked a hand through your hair.

“All you have to do is walk into a room and get pally with the panel,” you confessed. “I can’t compete with that.”

Somehow, through the dark, his eyes found yours. His expression was unreadable, but you could feel his attention on you, his scrutiny—thoughtful, patient, wanting to understand.

“I don’t know what to say,” he said at last.

“Seriously? You’re gonna make me be honest with you and then leave me holding the hot potato of awkwardness?”

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” he laughed. “I just… It’s not like I get up in the morning thinking, ‘Hm, what grant can I possibly steal from you today?’”

“Right,” you drawled, “you just can’t help being you.”

“I can’t!” he insisted, rising up on his elbows. “I like people. I like meeting them… talking to them—even the buttoned-up ones that look like they haven't been outside of an office building in months. I can't apologize for that. But it is a little unfair of you if your sole reason for being mean to me all the time amounts to two cents and a bit of pocket lint.”

“I am not mean!” you protested.

Tyler cocked his head.

“Okay, maybe I’m a bit brusque,” you allowed. “But I let you sleep in my bed!”

“For which I’ll be forever grateful…”

You opened your mouth.

“…but not enough to turn down the grant.”

You shrugged, not expecting him to hand you the award on a silver platter.

“It was worth a shot,” you said. Another joke.

Tyler gestured with his hands; you could see them fluttering around expressively in the near dark.

“You’ve just gotta stop approaching people and automatically assuming that they’re not on your side,” he said gently, and because you were a contrarian, you chose to take at least one-sixteenth of offense.

“Are you mansplaining relationships to me?”

“Not mansplaining, just a friendly bit of advice. Take it or leave it,” he tacked on, shrugging his shoulders—damn his shoulders…

“Thanks.”

You were trying to wrestle your brain away from the thought of his bare chest again.

His bare chest… the expanse of his chiseled abs, the dip of his hips…

You looked away, your face as hot as your shame. You would not have sex thoughts about a man you were sharing a bed platonically with. You would not admit to yourself that your traitorous gaze had wandered down to the outline of certain parts while he was standing there in gray sweats and a white T-shirt that left little or nothing to your debauched imagination.

You would not.

You would not.

Santa, come get me before I forfeit all brownie points for life.

“Now this is awkward.” The words slipped out of your mouth. You pulled the sheet up to your chin as if it were a straitjacket and Tyler chuckled to himself, probably thinking that you meant awkwardness at having a moment of vulnerability rather than red-hot lust.

“Go to sleep,” he said kindly, turning back on his left side.

“Alright. Night.”

“Night.”

-

Later, you would swear it didn't happen on purpose. At some point in the night, after Christmas Eve had settled well and truly over this random Oklahoma town, the pillow fort was forgotten as you and Tyler fell asleep, succumbing to the fatigue of the day’s travel and your late-night conversations.

The first inkling you had was that your pillow was far too warm against your cheek—and it moved, up and down, like the gentle swaying of a boat upon a calm sea. When you regained enough consciousness, you realized that the “pillow” kept a beat, and that's when you realized your pillow wasn't a pillow at all but the cradle of Tyler’s chest.

He’s quite comfortable, you thought, still half-asleep. He had his arm thrown around you and the tips of his fingers rested against a patch of naked back where your shirt had ridden up.

So far, so good; you couldn’t complain about the weighted blanket treatment—at least not in your hazy, sleep-softened state. You sighed happily, snuggling further into his shirt.

You felt his arms tighten.

His breathing shift.

You were straddling the line between dream and wakefulness when you noticed his legs tangled up in yours…

…and the hard protrusion pressing right against your stomach.

You opened your eyes. Tyler was awake and springing out of bed like he had a whole swarm of bees in his bonnet.

“Oh god,” he exclaimed, “I am so sorry! That is not… I did not—”

“It’s fine,” you tried to say.

“No! No, it’s not.”

“Tyler, would you stop acting like a virgin with the vapors? It’s cold, I’m not the stillest of sleepers, nothing was meant by it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, then put it on his hip, then pointed—you didn’t know at whom, he was simply unable to be still, and the more he panicked the more you thought it was silly how he was making such a big deal out of nothing.

(Okay, so maybe it wasn't nothing, but one of you had to be the adult about it.)

“I was not trying to put the moves on you,” he emphatically declared.

“That was made abundantly clear by what you said to Carol. Also by the drool on your pillow.”

“The—”

His gaze darted. His face took on an added hue of pallid as he bent over his pillow and straightened, eyebrows battened, finding nothing there.

“See, that was mean.”

“No, that was funny,” you laughed.

The whole time, you did your best to keep your eyes trained above his shoulders, though you had a bone-deep curiosity now that you’d felt the impression of his dick against your skin.

If your periphery was to be trusted—which, your doctor said you had excellent vision in that regard—he was as well-endowed as he was rumored to be, sometimes with envy, sometimes pejoratively and in relation to his ego. Now that you’d spent an entire day crossing paths, you weren't so sure about that last bit. But you were sure that in the privacy of your own thoughts, you’d have a bitch of a time unknowing that Tyler Owens was, in every regard, unfairly blessed.

“Back to neutral corners?” you asked, patting the bed.

Tyler stared at the mattress with something like horror.

“You are not being normal about this!” you exclaimed.

“Maybe I oughta sleep on the floor.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, it’s just for a few hours more.”

You sighed.

“Tyler James Owens, now you are the one being a muppet.”

“Take that back! And how do you even know my middle name?”

“It’s called Google. Now stop acting like a muppet and I’ll stop calling you one!”

Drat… You were so close, but your eyes snagged on the bulge in his pants at the exact moment Tyler was looking at you. There was no way to deny it.

You wiped your face of all expression.

Tyler pleaded, “Do not make this worse for me than it already is.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You don’t have to, it's written all over your face.”

Me? My face? You pointed at yourself.

Tyler huffed, “You aren't letting me forget this for as long as I live, are you?”

“Not in your dreams…” you fessed up. “Need me to pace around the hall for ten minutes, let you take care of business? I have a spare sock you can hang on the door.”

“You’re evil.”

“Nooooo, where are you going?” you needled, watching him head to the bathroom with a scowl on his face. “I was having so much fun!”

“Mind your own business!” he yelled back.

“But Tyler, it’s perfectly natural!”

He locked the door.

Only then did you cover your mouth and really let yourself have a laugh.

-

He took exactly 23 minutes. You knew because you timed him, a childish impulse you indulged in trade for not probing the question of what he might be thinking about as he got off. Obviously, you knew enough biology to not flatter yourself into believing that his morning wood was down to you; still, you allowed yourself to believe it just the tiniest bit. It made you feel better—to think he was affected by you. To believe you weren’t alone in being provoked to unexpected places.

He came up to the bed with a wary glance. On purpose, you pretended to be uncommonly interested in your nails.

“I thought you’d be asleep.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” you said, buffing a nonexistent spot on your shirt. “All good?”

“Don’t start.” He took his pillow and made for the chair.

You clicked your tongue. “You really don't have to sleep on the floor, you know…”

Which was kind.

“...I thought that was the whole point of Tyler’s Special Solo Time.”

Which wasn’t.

He rounded on you with his finger outstretched.

“Do not call it that!”

“Okay!”

“Never again!”

“Fine!”

“And for your information—that isn’t what I was doing in there.”

“Oh!” you said, genuinely surprised, “I just assumed…”

“Well, you know what they say about assuming.”

You make an ASS out of U and ME.

Color me surprised—you genuinely thought Tyler had been in the bathroom rubbing one out.

Could it be that he was too much of a gentleman to do it with you the next room over? That seemed like the likeliest explanation.

You were touched. Weirdly, inappropriately.

Also let down by the fact that you weren’t sexually irresistible enough to make him lose all sense of propriety—granted, you hadn’t been trying to be sexually irresistible at the time, more like drooling into his shirt.

“God, what?” he asked, eyes boring into yours like he was trying to crack open your mind and read it like a book, pushed to the brink when he couldn’t figure out what you were thinking or if you believed him about not masturbating in the bathroom.

“Nothing! Why are you chewing me out just because you got an erection?”

“Don’t say ‘erection’!”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not gonna call it a boner—I’m not in middle school anymore!”

“You have gotta be kidding me…”

He face-planted onto the bed, not consciously, you didn’t think, more like the natural result of a situation that’d understandably fried his brain.

You could relate… and it was supremely satisfying to hear him say the words you’d been thinking for over a day: you have got to be kidding me, indeed.

“This is the weirdest fucking Christmas I have ever had,” he mumbled into the mattress.

You laughed, feeling not an ounce of animosity as you watched his prone form. He was funny, and he’d been nicer than you deserved. You no longer believed that he had kicked you in the back during your flight on purpose.

“What are your plans for the holidays?” you asked him, letting him off the hook about his penis.

He turned his head and searched you for any trace of nefarious intent. He answered when he was sure you weren’t going to keep messing with him.

“The team and I are going to Kate’s. Then I’m spending the start of the New Year at home, hopefully, if there isn’t another fire to put out.”

“You’re from Arkansas,” you said.

“Mm.”

“‘Regnat populus.’”

He quirked his brow.

“‘The People Rule,’” you explained. “You don't know your own state’s motto?”

“Nobody knows their state’s motto.”

“I had to learn them all for school.”

“High school?”

“Elementary.”

“Oh,” he laughed, “so you grew up rich.”

“Shut up.”

He sat against the headboard next to you, crossing his ankles.

“What made you want to become a meteorologist?”

“Seriously?” you asked.

“What?”

“It’s a cliched question.”

“It’s a getting-to-know-you question!”

You frowned.

“Why would you ever want to get to know me? I’ve done nothing but fight you since the day we met.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

Plain, simple.

The lamplight made it impossible to hide a thing. There was a line between his brows, as if he couldn’t for the life of him understand why you couldn’t understand. “I like people.” You’d thought it trite at the time, you didn’t trust it, but you were thinking maybe it was true. Instead of judging you by the way you challenged, harangued, goaded, mocked, judging him, he’d kept trying to figure you out. It was one of the reasons he was good at his job—the merging of both science- and people-smarts.

If you had a brain in your head, you might learn from him. But to do that you’d have to get your head out of your ass and stop seeing him as the enemy.

Except you didn’t.

Sometime between the Heller offices and this moment in the Sunnyside Inn, your feelings towards him had changed. The animosity? Gone. All that was left in its place was a newfound respect, fresh like the layer of snow sitting over the world outside the walls of your hotel room, and, if you were being brutally honest, an attraction that was hard to ignore.

You held your breath.

His hair, glinting bronze, was sleep-mussed—the detail intimate, arousing, just like the stubble on his cheeks and the rugged line of his throat leading to the curves of those shoulders you couldn’t stop thinking about. What was that one corny-as-fuck phrase some fuckboy musician had once said?

Sexual napalm.

Tyler Owens was sexual napalm and you weren’t immune.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you said.

It was Projection 101, but in this case you weren’t entirely wrong.

Tyler’s eyes wandered down to your mouth, seductive without even trying. He was breathing as fast as you, his lips parted, tongue peeking out to wet them when he said, “Can’t.”

And that was all it took. One second you were staring at each other with twin fuck-me expressions and the next you were in his lap, your hands buried in his hair. The kiss was eager—messy—uncaring of finesse, indifferent to perfection. It was the exact opposite of the way you’d been living your life and it was mostly down to him. Even when he’d been driving you absolutely insane, there was no denying that Tyler brought out in you something hard to control. He made you ambitious, competitive, unfiltered—sometimes to an unflattering degree—but God, did it feel good.

He tilted his head and delved his tongue into your mouth. You groaned, pulled him back by the hair until you felt a rumbling sound in his throat which you decided to chase on instinct, latching your mouth onto that part of him you’d been obsessing over for the last few hours, sucking, biting, laving your way down to his clavicle.

“This is not how you get to know someone,” you joked, feeling him get hard again underneath you.

“Yeah, it is…”

“Don’t say 'biblically.’”

He laughed—it was a giggle that made you smile and peer into his face.

“You said it, not me. Are you gonna kick me out of bed later?” he asked, stroking a hand up your thigh.

“No. Are you gonna run for the hills like I soiled your virtue?”

He balked. “That is not what I did.”

“Yeah, it is!”

“Well”—he nipped your jaw, hand slyly making its own path up to your breast, which he stroked open-palmed so that you rocked your hips against his—”I promise not to be virtuous at all for the next…” He glanced at his watch. “Three hours.”

“Three hours?”

“What can I say,” he shrugged. “I’m a people pleaser. It’s my curse.”

-

Suffice to say, by the time 10:00 o’clock rolled around and you and Tyler made your way down so you could settle up the room with Carol, you were feeling like a million bucks. Not even a full spa day could have infused you with this much energy.

There was a pep in your step, a smile plastered to your face, and when Carol said, “Happy holidays! It was nice having you with us!” you were so smug that you slipped the tip in her hand and said, “Thank you, Carol, you sure made it sunny!”

Tyler cackled, but tried to do it subtly. (And failed.)

Right on the money, the snow had stopped falling during the night. It’d be a white Christmas, all right, but you should be able to drive home safely and arrive in time for lunch.

Tyler loaded your suitcase into your car, gallant as ever.

“So,” he said.

“So.”

You exchanged shy glances, which was new for you. You’d never had reason to feel shy around Tyler before, but then, you’d had him inside you not too long ago and the memory of the things you’d done, the things you’d said, which you wouldn’t admit even under threat of perjury, were enough to make you almost blush.

“We should hit the road,” you said dumbly, schooling your features into an unbothered mask.

“Yeah. I’m sure the others have already made it to Ms. Carter’s farm.”

“Well… merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, merry Christmas.”

You opened your door, settled into your seat. You were about to pull the door closed when Tyler stopped it, hand closed around the top.

“Can I call you, after the holidays?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

He laughed. “Who’s holding the hot potato now, you or me?”

“I think we’re sharing this one,” you replied.

“I don’t mind that.”

“Yeah,” you said, “neither do I.”

He smiled at you for a while, then closed your door and watched you drive off. You followed his movements in the rearview until your paths diverged, then turned up the radio.

“Merry Christmas Eve, one and all! It’s a gorgeous one out there—we couldn’t have asked for better weather. Here’s one just for you. I’m sure you know it, so sing along: it’s Dean Martin and it’s our ‘Winter Wonderland,’ right here, in the heart of good ol’ Oklahoma…”

[mwahsol]

Hot sauce makes me nervous

Description: You have been invited to go on Hot One's First We Feast. It was recently announced that you're releasing an album but when some were looking through the title names they noticed some were romantic names, there have been rumors of you and a specific Uconn basketball player, leading there to already be a lot of attention on the anticipated album. Later on in the interview, you get asked about a specific song already out asking you who and/or what was the inspiration for it. I am using Sabrina and her music as well from other artists as yours in this because I can't think of good song titles…enjoy :)

“It's the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Today we’re joined by Y/n L/n, she is one of the most talked about artists. Her debut album from 2021 still to this day is one of the most played in the last four years, some of her latest singles being Please Please Please, Espresso, Nonsense, and The Diner. As well as her new album called Sort n’ Sweet. Y/n L/n welcome to the show.” Sean announces while turning to look at you during the end as to give you the greeting.

“Hi thank you for inviting me, this has been a dream of mine to be here so I am honored and nervous,” you reply a bit nervous since you're fangirling on the inside.

“We’re excited to have you, how are you feeling going into this, are you a fan of hot sauce or prefer to keep things more tame?” He starts with a simple question to try and get you a bit comfortable, keeping things light and steady.

“Umm, I wouldn't say I'm a fan.. when I'm out at dinner I don't go for the spicy flavors but like as a small snack like chips or something yes I'm a fan. Hot sauce makes me all sweaty and nervous if I'm honest.” You say giggling towards the end because you know if you lied your girlfriend's team would never let you live it down when they watch this. “Like one time I thought it was a good idea to try those hot soups filled with peppers and stuff I started to tear up by like the fifth bite.”

At your retelling of the event, Sean is also laughing with you before he starts asking you the question he's prepared and having to dig in.

“I never eat wings with bones in them so this is a little new to me,” you tell him while taking your first bit of the first wing.

“Really? I thought most ate them with the bone in.”

“Yeah I just have an irrational fear of my teeth falling out if I bite down on the bone, that's also why I hate eating with forks.”

Sean and the rest of the people behind the cameras can't help but laugh at your admission. In the background of everyone laughing with you both, you can hear her laughing as well knowing that what you're saying is very much true. Hearing her you turn your head subtly, thinking people wouldn't notice this when posted, looking at her laughing admiring her for a second. You would find out later on people could decently see you turn your head, and if you listened close enough you could hear Paige's laughter in the back.

As the show went on Sean asking you questions about your career, your opinions on your songs, and how you came to be a singer, he asks, “So your song Let the Light In is one of your more romantic yet darker songs. Is there a story behind it or how did the inspiration come to you to create a song like this?”

When hearing his question you started worrying a bit knowing the inspiration wasn't just yours but Paige's too. You look at her in a way asking if she's ok with you answering knowing that this involves a personal situation with her and yourself, when you see her nod and give you an encouraging smile you know she's giving you the go-ahead and will be supportive of your answer. “Well, I wrote the song from my girlfriend mainly, when she had a serious injury and was in a dark place at the time when I met her. As she slowly got better the day she was cleared to play again she told me that she was grateful to have me because meeting me was like a light coming into her life encouraging her to get better. When she told me that I cried because I admitted to her that when I met her I was also at a dark place in my life so meeting her was also like the sun shining after the storm for me. We are each other's lights so I wrote the song for her.” You answer tearing up at the memory but smiling remembering her face when you told her she's your light too.

“It such a heartwarming thing to see how you can take special memories like that and write something beautiful for it, thank you for sharing.” He replied also smiling fondly at you seeing how you made sure with Paige first and telling such a personal moment.

“Thank you too for asking,” you know some interviews would keep pushing for more details, and you're grateful he didn't seeing as how it's not just your story to tell.

By the ninth wing, you started crying while laughing, there were funny instances from you getting a wing and running to Paige telling her to eat it since she was dying by laughing at you, to you falling out of your chair from how fast you turned and reached to grab the milk from the table away from you.

“I feel like my makeup with melting off just by my sweat and tears,” you say struggling to just sit upright but still laughing at your situation.

“Yeah, you look like it.” You heard Paige mumble in the background teasing you knowing it would get a reaction out of you.

“Babe I swear I will go back there and pour this hot sauce down your throat.” Threatening her, not being cautious anymore, while you felt like your mouth was on fire. This makes her laugh even harder as well as the crew and Sean.

After most of the laughter settled down Sean gets ready to ask another question. “This past year you have been spotted at a lot more WCBB and WNBA games, when did you get into watching women's basketball, and why?”

“When I was younger I had brothers that played basketball, they would teach me to play, and tried to get me to watch the NBA. As most big brothers do I just never could get into watching men play but anytime I would find a WNBA game you could bet I was fighting for the controller to put on the game. This year I’ve had a bit more free time since the tour for my last album was done and I took a bit of a break before I started writing this new album so I decided to attend as many as I could.” You weren't technically lying but you did leave out the part where you would mainly go to Uconn games to see your girlfriend back on the court and support her.

“Do you still play?”

“Yeah, a bit nothing serious though,” which is true if anyone on the team asks you to play you would say yes. Paige, while you are both away from Connecticut, if she finds a court shell beg you to play. Even though they're very much significantly taller you'll sometimes land a few points.

“Alright Y/n last one,” he tells you while shaking the last bottle.

“Oh gosh ok ok,” You can feel yourself shaking a little with nervousness but you have to see it through, or else she will never let you forget it. Shaking the bottle as well you try to put a of hot sauce enough to get it but not too much where you're burn your tongue off.

“Before I do this I want the camera and people to see that I did put some on there so she can't say I wussed out,” you tell everyone holding up your wing and looking directly at Paige while she shakes her head laughing at your expression.

“Yes, no one can claim you didn't go through with it, going out with a bang,” Sean tells you backing you up.

When you bite down you can already feel yourself regretting this. You start sweating again, eyes tearing up, nosey runny, you're defiantly making her drive you to go get ice cream.

“So Y/n you stated that in you're elementary through middle school years you took ballet lessons,” as soon as he said those words you knew where this was going and started to mentally prepare yourself, “we wanted to see if you could choreograph a small routine to your song All mine.”

“Of course, I can't promise it'll be good,” you respond while laughing and sniffling.

“Alright let's move these tables and chairs,” Sean says while laughing with you.

When doing your routine you only got a few steps in before you stopped and could continue because of your laughter, “I'm sorry omg I can't do it.”

“Fanominal dance couldn't have asked for better. There it is Y/n L/n taking on the wings of death, living to tell the tale, is there anything you would like to promote.”

“Short n’ Sweet comes out August, listen to it please it'll make me feel better from this. Watch the WNBA they're really cool and watch WCBB they're really cool too.” Biding everyone goodbye while still panting a little.

“Those wings got you good hm baby?” Paige says while driving to a McDonalds to get you a ice cream you almost demanded for.

“Paige, honey, I love you but I swear on everything I love I will make this car crash if we don't get ice cream. I can feel my face melting off.” You claim not even looking at her too busy trying not to keep sniffling.

“Ok ok we're almost there,” she can't help but laugh. I mean can you blame her, you were excited to do this a few hours ago now you look light you lost a fight.

After finally getting you your ice cream it's like your mood did a complete 180. “Thank you my love,” you say as you kiss her all over her face showing her how much you wanted that ice cream.

“The switch-up is crazy,” Paige says while chuckling at your attitude and holding your waist.

“I can stop.”

“Now I never said that come here mama.”

I'm slowly defrosting y'all (I'm losing my mind.) ANYWAY, I hope you guys enjoyed this <3

Kiss the sun 🌞

[alicewrotethis]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩. 𝟐﹒

ㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˖𓏲﹒synopsis!! tsukishima  does something he know will come back to haunt him   ㅤ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚౨ cw!! timeskip k. tsukishima x chubby!fem!reader, nsfw nsfw nsfw   ﹒ ◠ note!!  playlist i listened to while making this !  angst will be in the next part muahahahahaah😼ALSO IT DOESNT LET ME RPELY TO COMMENTS WAA ౨   wc!! 3.5k <<< part one part three >>>

It had been a few weeks since you said those words to Tsukishima, and it's like they're still fresh on his mind. Ever since then, you've been inseparable, well, as inseparable as you can be. You both grew fond of each other's company and grew well as friends, he even managed to break it off with Etsuko; not wanting her to interfere with your friendship any further. He even told some of the guys on his team about you, only after they wouldn't stop pestering him on who the pretty girl was bringing in his lunches in cute bento boxes. He appreciated what you did for him, and he did his best to show it in his own way, he hoped you could feel it as well.

But it all came to a steady stop a few days ago; nothing bad had happened, you just got busy managing your classes and job and you didn't really have enough time to stop by his practices much between running from the college to the bakery then back again. Tsukishima never said anything about it, he knew you were stressed and didn't wanna seem selfish, though, he desperately missed the times you'd spend together. It's not like you never spent any time with him, you'd still go over to his apartment and hed go to yours whenever but either way your face would be stuffed in a book and papers and never just on him.

It started affecting his days as well, not being able to see you- to really see you.

Today was no exception.

You were sitting on Tsukishima's living room floor, papers and books scattered all around you as well as highlighters and pencils, some music filled the background, your combined playlist you made him join on Spotify. It was a sight Tsukishima had grown accustomed to in these past days.

"You alright down there?" He asked, his tone rather gentle as he studied your form.

It took you a minute to reply, wanting to finish reading the paragraph before directing your attention to him, "Yeah, sorry," You let out a yawn as you stretched your back, your shirt lifting a little to reveal more of your skin, something that didn't go unnoticed by Tsukishima. He found himself noticing these small parts of you more often than usual.

"You should take it easy," He spoke softly, standing up and walking over to where you were seated, promptly leaning down to your eye level and neatly sorting your papers into a stack.

"Sorry for the mess, Tsuki, its just your place is so cozy," You watched as he sorted and piled your books and pencils, you watched how his long fingers engulfed the pencils with ease, and you started to wonder how they'd feel on your skin.

"It's practically the same as your place, since, you know, it's the same complex," He teased, placing your things in your bag as you snapped out of your thoughts.

What were you possibly thinking? How could you think that about your best friend? Maybe he was right, maybe you did need to take it easy, all this stress must've been getting to your head.

"Yeah, but in yours, I get to be near you," You hadn't meant anything by it when you said it, but Tsukishima still developed a slight blush on his cheeks. He hated how much of an effect your words had on him, and how easily you could have him flustered.

"Whatever," He spoke, standing up, "You gonna spend the night?" He wasn't sure why he asked, you've never spent the night at his place since you were right next to him, he just wanted to spend more time in your presence before you went back into your usual busy routine tomorrow.

"Of course, we can have a sleepover Tsuki!" You cheered up at him, still sitting on your knees. Despite how innocent the moment was, Tsukishima couldn't stop his mind from drifting.

"Dont say it like that, it sounds lame," He spoke, "Do you want the bed or the couch,"

You huffed, "Your bed is big enough for the both of us, right?" You stood up and walked towards his room, "I mean it is a sleepover, Tsuki,"

His face flushed once again at the thought of sharing the same bed as you, his bed was in fact big enough, but he wasn't sure he could control himself in such close proximity to you, he could barely stand it now.

Tsukishima wasn't oblivious, he knew what a crush was, and he knew what he was feeling resembled one. But he didn't want to ruin what you both shared, he didn't want to be selfish with you. It was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

"Dont call it a sleepover," He sighed, following you into the bedroom.

"Tsuki! I didn't even notice you had glow-in-the-dark stars! That's so cute," You exclaimed, staring up at the dimly lit green stars, you assumed they'd be brighter once the lights were shut off.

"Dont look at them it's embarrassing," He spoke while grabbing his plain black hoodie, and a towel and tossing them your way, "The showers in... well you already know,"

"Thank you," You said shyly as you entered the bathroom that was connected to the bedroom. It made you nervous knowing you'd be showering while Tsukishima was out there.

And Tsukishima was no better, he couldn't help but imagine your bare body, he thought about running his hands up and down your curves gently, showing you exactly how riled up you get him, hearing you say his name, god, the way it rolls off your tongue like a prayer. You drove him absolutely wild. He wasn't sure how he'd get through the night with you next to him.

The sound of the door opening snapped him out of his thoughts, he was sitting up on the bed, facing the bedroom TV on his dresser, watching whatever show was on your shared Netflix recent played, you begged him to join your plan so you could see what shows he liked watching since he wasn't really the talkative type. He liked that about you, he liked that you always wanted to know more about him.

His eyes scanned you up and down, and he could tell that you weren't wearing anything underneath his hoodie.

"Um, Tsuki?" Your voice called his attention, and he raised his brow at you.

"Do you have any spare, uh," You looked away out of nerves, "Panties.." You meekly said, earning a chuckle from Tsukishima.

"Why would I own panties?" He asked in a teasing tone, adoring the way you got shy so quickly. He wished his hoodie was just a bit shorter.

"Well, do you have anything?" Your face was a deep red as you furrowed your brows, not finding the situation as humorous as Tsukishima did.

"In that drawer, the top one," He pointed with his fingers while watching you walk to the dresser, turning your back to him to grab a pair of boxers. Tsukishima tried to keep his eyes from exploring places they shouldn't.

"Close your eyes," You spoke softly, now facing him.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he complied and you swiftly pulled them up, they fit quite nicely against your curves, it covered you but left nothing to the imagination, not that you cared, you just wanted to feel less... bare.

He opened his eyes when he felt you crawl into bed next to him, taking your phone out of the hoodie pocket and opening TikTok. Tsukishima grabbed the remote and turned the TV down a bit, knowing you liked to blast your TikTok's on full volume, he never complained tho, he found your for you page funny.

He felt his phone buzz, it was a notification from you, you sent him a TikTok, "Why are you sending me stuff I'm right here," He said with a smile looking over at you wrapped in the blankets, your head barely peeking out of the sheets to see your phone screen.

"I dont know, quit judging me sassyshima," You mumbled from under the blanket, you promptly shoved the phone in his face as a TikTok played.

"When my boy bestfriend decides to not answer me like I'm one of his hoes," Tsukishima read the words out loud, earning a giggle from you.

"It's so relatable," You spoke, taking the phone away from his face.

"No it's not, youre probably the only girl in my contacts," He said, his eyes never leaving you.

His words made you sit up and face him, "Tsuki, is this an admission that you," You paused dramatically, "Have no game...?" Your arms held you up against the mattress as you leaned in for dramatic effect.

Tsukishima scoffed, "I have plenty of game, I have a pretty girl in my bed right now," He smirked at you, watching as the familiar blush formed on your cheeks.

You crossed your arms against your chest, puffing your chest up unknowingly, "That doesn't count," You mumbled, taking your place back next to him and yawning.

You shifted on your side, your back facing him in an attempt to hide your blushing face, unconsciously rubbing your ass against Tsukishimas leg.

He felt his dick throb at the touch, and he wasn't sure what he should do, he didn't wanna make it awkward but he also didn't want you to think he liked it- which he very much did; but he didn't want you to know that as it might scare you away. but god he knew he couldn't stand it much longer.

Tsukishima instinctively placed a hand on your hip, not even realizing what he had done before you stopped your movements.

"Sorry, I dont know why I did that," He spoke softly, removing his hand.

You were a flustered mess, your heart was beating out of your chest and you were sure he could've heard it from there, you didn't even know you were rubbing against him and you felt bad for it, the ghost of his hand on your hip left a burning sensation, making warm waves twist and turn in your stomach. Was it wrong to think he wanted you in the way you needed him?

"Tsuki?" You asked apprehensively, shifting so you were facing him.

"Fuck, dont say my name like that," He breathed out, already staring at you. His breaths were heavy, and from what the TV illuminated you could tell there was a deep red adorning his face, the sight of him like this had you clenching around nothing.

"Touch me again," You enticingly spoke. The air was thick with tension, and your body felt hot all over despite the cool air floating around Tsukishimas apartment, "Please, Tsuki," You begged fervently.

Tsukishima was fighting battles in his mind, he wanted so badly to take you right here, to show you how badly he's been missing your presence, but he knew that when the morning came you'd both regret it, the friendship would become awkward, he didn't want that, he didn't want to lose you due to not being able to control himself.

"We can't," He said reluctantly, looking everywhere but you.

"Why not?" You whined out, your whines only making his cock twitch in his sweatpants.

"Fuck it," And with those words he was on you, running his hands all over your soft body, moving his hoodie up, and feeling your bare skin.

You let out soft whimpers at his rough touch, he was feeling you like he'd never get to again, as if you'd disappear in an instant and you loved it.

"Can I take it off, baby?" He asked gently, still feeling you everywhere except where you needed him the most.

His question made you cower under his gaze, there was nowhere you could hide so you brought your hands up to cover your face.

"If you dont want to, it's okay, I'll still think you're beautiful," His voice was smooth and intoxicating, it made your mind go fuzzy and all you could muster was a small nod.

His hands came down to the hem of the hoodie and pulled it off you in one swift movement, and though he couldn't see much with only the TV lighting up the room, what he could see he found perfect.

Before his hands could continue exploring your curves you grabbed his arm, "You too," You shyly spoke, earning a smile from Tsukishima. He complied with your demand and swiftly threw his shirt to the ground. You admired his form and ran your fingers along his build, sending shivers down his spine at your touch. You were finally touching the man who consumed all your fantasies.

Your hips unconsciously bucked against his thigh, earning a small moan from you at the friction. "Touch me, Kei," Your tone was laced with sultry, you had a deep need for his touch, you wanted so badly to come undone on him, for him, to him.

He positioned himself so your legs were on either side of him, and his fingers ran down your soft stomach, and down into the borrowed boxers, eliciting a small gasp at the contact. He leaned his head into the crook of your neck and began kissing and licking as his fingers slid up and down your slick puffy lips, coating his digits in your wetness.

You felt him smirk on your skin, "All this for me?" He smugly asked, even in a moment like this he still had the biggest ego.

"Tell me how bad you want me," He demanded in your ear, kissing the soft skin.

"I need you so bad, Kei, so so so bad," You whined, hating how much he was teasing you.

You felt him sink a finger in, and you let out a hushed moan into his ear, causing him to sink another finger in. He felt your grip on his shoulders as he moved his fingers into you deeper, he loved how you felt around his fingers, the feeling had his dick throbbing in his sweatpants, but he wanted to take care of you first, he wanted to feel you cum all over his fingers.

Tsukishima knew he found your soft spot when you became a moaning mess, rocking your hips on his hand and digging your nails into his skin.

"Yeah? Like that baby?" He whispered in your ear, quickening his pace. His other hand ran up your body to massage your breast in his palm, you felt vulnerable under his gaze, knowing he's touched you everywhere, but the thought only made you clench more around his fingers.

"Yes! More, more, more," You repeated in chants, his thumb came to rub around your clit, making your hips jolt up at the sudden sensation.

"I've missed you so much since you've been busy," His pace was steady, and his slender fingers reached places in you you didn't even know existed, you couldn't barely form any sentences as the familiar feeling of your climax crept up on you.

"Missed seeing your pretty face all the time," He praised in your ear, licking his way from your neck to your lips in a hungry kiss, wanting to taste you.

"You gonna cum?" He asked, maintaining eye contact with you as his fingers gradually increased their pace on your clit, the feeling felt like nothing you've ever felt before, it was new, and you were already addicted, his scent was intoxicating and it filled your every pore, you could hear how wet you were.

You nodded profusely, unable to speak due to the loud moans and shrieks that were coming from your mouth, Tsukishima loved the sight of you, a mess all because of his fingers, he couldn't wait to see what you would be like on his dick.

"Look at me, baby, god, I can't get enough of you,"

"'M gonna cum! Tsuki, tsuki, tsuki, please," You were cut off by your own climax, your walls clenched tightly around Tsukishimas fingers as your back arched up into his body, twitching and jolting while he fingered you through your high.

Your clit soon became too sensitive so you wrapped your hand around his wrist in an attempt to halter his movements.

"Tsuki, too much," You whined out, body twitching vigorously.

"Sorry, youre just so pretty," He took his fingers out of you, your walls instantly missing them. You took a minute to regain your composure while Tsukishima slid his sweatpants down and you slid the boxers off.

Tsuki started pumping his dick in his hand that was coated in your cum, the feeling eliciting a low moan. He could've come just by the sight of you.

"Are you ready?" He asked, rubbing his tip against your puffy lips, guiding it to rub against your clit.

You nodded up at him through tired eyes.

"I wanna hear you, baby," He spoke, never losing eye contact with you.

"Yeah, I need you Tsuki," Your voice was soft, exhaustion setting in from your high before.

"That's my girl,"

He guided his tip to your entrance and slowly let it sink into your slick folds, a gasp erupting from your mouth while Tsuki bit hard on his lip, trying to quiet his own groans. It wasn't enough for you though, you needed more of him, and you wanted to take every inch of him.

"More, Tsuki, please," You begged.

His arms were planted on either side of you, holding him up above you, "I don't want to hurt you," And it was true, but a part of him wanted to thrust so deep into you until you took all of him. But this was your first time together, he wanted to take it slow and remember every little sound you could possibly make.

Tsukishima slowly pushed deeper into you and with every inch came a new sound, your fingers were digging into his forearms, and your legs were wrapped around his waist, trying to guide him further into you. The pain felt so, so good to you.

When he finally bottomed out, you felt it, that special spot you had become addicted to him hitting, it felt even better now that you felt fuller.

"Right there, more, please, oh my god," Your back arched upwards and your hips bucked as you started fucking yourself on his dick, you felt him twitch inside of you at the sight.

"Fuck, baby, youre gonna make me cum doing that," He lightly laughed at how desperately you grinded on his dick, his arms moved to your hips, holding them in place and stilling their movement.

"You want more? Huh?" He teased.

"Yes! Stop being mean, Tsuki," You whined, face turning into a frown at the lack of friction.

"Alright, baby, I'll be nice," He smirked before pulling out and thrusting roughly back into you, your eyes rolled back and a shout of pleasure erupted from your throat, your body would've twitched had his grip on your hips not been so tight. He repeated his motion again, only this time he kept doing it at a steady pace. The pleasure sent waves up your spine, you couldn't even think straight, the only thing on your mind was how good Tsukishima was fucking you.

"Been wanting to do this since you made me that cake," He breathed out between moans and thrusts, "You have no idea what you do to me,"

Your hand reached down to your clit but was swatted away and replaced by Tsukishimas fingers, "Such a needy girl, yeah?" It wasn't even processing in your mind what he was saying, all you knew was to agree and take it.

With every thrust, your moans grew louder, every time he hit your soft spot harder and harder, the sounds of skin on the skin filled the room along with your nonsense blabbers about how good he was fucking you.

"Fuck, baby, I'm close," He groaned out, his pace grew sloppier with his thrusts, and his fingers on your clit got faster, "Can I cum inside you?" He asked, leaning down to breathe in your scent.

"Yes, please, please," Your sentence rambled off into noncoherent moans as the familiar knot in your stomach tightened. Tsukishima whispered all sorts of praises in your ear, but one stood out to you.

"Your body is perfect for me, baby," His sentence was enough to drive you over the edge, your walls clamped down tightly around his dick as you let out a shriek of pleasure, chanting his name over and over, it brought Tsukishima to his own climax, and with one deep thrust you felt his cum fill you in warm sputters, his hips bucked through his climax while his head rested on your shoulder, small pants coming from him as he caught his breath.

You both had stayed in that position for a while, seemingly going over what had just happened.

He stood up suddenly, leaving your walls to clench around nothing and you stared up at his glow in the dark stars as he cleaned you off silently

mlist. rules. tags.

© 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ please don't copy, translate, or post any of my work without my permission !

tags: @ilovemymomscooking

<< part one part three >>>

[pastryfication]

Hey hey hey! So, I was wondering if you could work your magic on this request? We all know Oscar LOVES sleeping whenever he can but what if he has a girlfriend with quite frequent insomnia such as moi? Maybe the piece could be about him searching for all kinds of serious and wacky methods to help her sleep - white noise, sound apps, black out blinds, counting actual sheep, a cold bedroom etc and eventually something so simple such as snuggling together after he's washed her hair or something soppy works? Thank you, you're an angel!

thank u for the request!! i hope i did it justice but i have no idea how insomnia works so feel free to correct me if i’ve written something wrong 🫶

5 things that didn’t help you sleep and the 1 thing that actually did | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x insomniac!reader

warnings: mentions of insomnia and the use of melatonin

oscar piastri treasures every moment of sleep he can get. cuddling up under the covers, catching up on much-needed rest between races, training sessions and team meetings is his sanctuary, a place where he can recharge. it’s entirely different for you. sleep often feels elusive, insomnia visits you regularly, and after trying to take melatonin, you feel like there truly must be something wrong with you when you’re still left you tossing and turning while oscar dozes peacefully beside you.

one particularly restless night, as you lie awake staring at the ceiling, you decide you’ve had enough. oscar, sensing your frustration, turns over and looks at you with sleepy but concerned eyes.

“another bad night?” he asks softly, voice groggy.

you nod, feeling guilty for disturbing his rest. “i just can’t seem to fall asleep.”

determined to help you find the peace he enjoys so effortlessly, oscar spends the next day researching every possible solution for insomnia, and he ends up with a list. 5 things that have helped others who are suffering from the same problem, and over the next few weeks, he convinced you to try it all, hoping to find the one thing that will finally help you sleep.

1. white noise

the first thing he tries is white noise. researching the best possible brand, he buys a white sound machine and sets it to a gentle hum when you go to sleep one night. the constant noise fills the room, creating a soothing background sound and drowning out any distractions.

it’s nice to lay and listen to, and at first, you think it might work. you close your eyes, snuggle into the covers to find the best position and takes oscar’s hand in yours.

you try, you really do try your best, to let the sound lull you to sleep. everything is nice and calm, but after a few nights, it’s clear that the constant noise only makes you more restless. you lie awake, feeling like you’re trapped in a static-filled void, and you just want to cry.

2. sound apps

oscar is quick to notice your disappointment, and he therefore quickly moves on to the next point on the list.

he downloads several sound apps on his phone, experimenting with everything from rainstorms to ocean waves to forest sounds. he tries different combinations, adjusting the volume and mixing the sounds in various ways, bringing out his inner dj to make you as comfortable as possible.

you appreciate the effort, but none of the sounds seem to do the trick. you lie awake, feeling more like you’re in a nature documentary than trying to sleep. the sounds that are supposed to be calming just keep you more alert, your mind unable to quiet down.

3. blackout blinds

oscar then orders blackout blinds, thinking that maybe the slightest hint of light is the culprit.

the blinds plunge the room into complete darkness, blocking out any external light. at first, you think it might work. the darkness is comforting and you hope it will help you relax, but instead of soothing you, the darkness feels oppressive. you lie there, eyes wide open, feeling the walls close in. the complete absence of light only makes you nervous and the two of you quickly have to give up on that as well.

4. counting sheep

you insisted that counting sheep was silly. there was no way it was going to work and you told oscar exactly that. he didn’t agree though, and with the use of his best puppy eyes, he convinced you to try.

he decides to buy a small stuffed sheep and as you lie in bed one night, he starts an impromptu counting session. you giggle at the sight of him hopping the little sheep across the bed.

“i don’t think this is gonna work.” you hold back a laugh as he makes the sheep take a particularly long jump across your duvet.

“not even if he gives you a little kiss?” he asks, holding back his own giggle as he moves up to you on the bed, making the sheep “kiss” you all over your stomach.

you laugh at the ticklish sensation, and the two of you have to realise that the sheep counting feels more like a silly game than a serious attempt to help you sleep.

5. a cold bedroom

the last thing on oscar’s quickly disappearing list is sleeping in a cold room.

to make that happen, he insists on making the bedroom as cold as a freezer. he cranks up the air conditioning and piles extra blankets on the bed so you don’t freeze to death.

the room quickly becomes chilly, and you snuggle under the covers, head on oscar’s chest as his arms snake around you, trying to regain some body heat. you’re really hoping the cold will help you relax, but you find yourself shivering more than drifting off. the cold air makes you uncomfortable, and instead of helping, it only adds to your restlessness.

the 1 thing that actually did help

after trying numerous different methods, you’re ready to just give up.

“maybe i should go to the doctors,” you eventually suggest. you wish the problem would go away by itself, but it doesn’t seem like it will.

oscar finds himself running out of ideas too, until something dawns to him one night when he’s on facetime with his mom.

entering your bedroom with a book clutched tightly in his hand, you raise an eyebrow at him. “so mom just left to read to read my sister a bed time story, and i thought: why don’t i read to you as well?” he suggests.

you raise an eyebrow, skeptical at the suggestion but at this point you’re willing to try anything.

oscar shuffles across the bed, helping you adjust so your head is pressed against his thigh as he begins to read. his voice soft and steady, keeping a calm pace to his words and you can’t deny that it’s nice.

he plays with your hair as he reads, gently running his fingers through the strands and massaging your scalp. the combination of his calming voice and the soothing sensation of his touch begins to work its magic.

you feel your body relax, the tension melting away. his words become a comforting background noise and his fingers in your hair provide a gentle, rhythmic motion. for the first time in what feels like ages, you feel yourself drifting off, your eyelids growing heavy.

oscar continues reading until he hears your breathing deepen and become steady. he smiles, closing the book quietly and turning off the light, but he doesn’t move, terrified to wake you after you’ve finally found the peace you desperately needed.

sitting against the headboard starts hurting his back, but he still stays beside you, his hand continuously playing with your hair, ensuring you stay asleep.

as the nights go by, oscar’s bedtime stories and hair-playing become your new routine. you find yourself looking forward to bedtime, knowing that sleep is no longer a battle but a peaceful journey.

in the end, it’s not the gadgets or apps that help you sleep, but instead oscar’s gentle presence and unwavering support. his love is your ultimate lullaby, guiding you into the restful sleep you’ve been longing for.

[tojipie]

toji face timing a guy best friend who was getting a bit too touchy for his liking? (while y’all r getting freaky iykwim)

content: toji x fem reader, blowjobs, exhibitionism, shiu my beloved, phone sex (kind of?)

toji x reader x shiu will always be so special to me i love my boyfrans

“just like that,” toji mutters, thick hand pressing you to the base of his length. you choke and sputter at the intrusion, feeling him twitch as his high sneaks up on him.

“gonna— fuck” he whispers, voice trailing off as his other hand comes up to hold you down. You flex your throat around his length, squirming at the guttural sound of approval he gives you. 

you wait in pure ecstasy for the telltale feeling of your mouth being flooded, eyes rolling back as his peak approa—

“fuck, hold on,” the incessant buzzing of his phone rips the two of you from the moment.

the whimper you let out is humiliating. almost tantrum-like. you release his length with a small pop, only to have him guide his still-hard cock into your mouth. his way of quelling your little outburst.

the ringing drones on longer than it should. you figure he’s still deciding whether he wants to answer, choosing to take him deeper like it’ll convince him to give up.

“shiu.. facetime,” he mumbles to you, offering nothing else but that. the same shiu whose hand hadn’t left your waist the last time you hosted friends over. toji was oddly calm considering how angry he was at the other man.

the furrow between his brows lets you know he’s up to something. you choose not to question him, tapping the head on your tongue to try and gauge a reaction.

“fuck— behave,” he hisses, swiping accept on the call.

the mindless drone of thirty-something-year-old small talk melts into soft static after a while. toji had pulled you off his cock by the scruff of your neck ten minutes into the call— not wanting to blow his load just yet. 

you practically feel yourself nearing the edge of sleep, cheek smooshed into the skin of his bare thigh, his cock still hard as ever.

that is until the sound of your name piques your interest. 

“what about her?” shiu laughs, feigning ignorance.

“i wanna know why you think it’s okay to be grabbing on a woman that’s not yours.”

your eyes flit open, listening intently as the heated exchange goes down.

“i can’t have friends?” the other man sighs, tone laced with boredom. you hear the click of a lighter in the background, probably being raised to a cigarette. 

toji notices your look of interest, mouth quirking up at the sides as the cogs in his mind turn. you feel yourself being guided back onto his length with a hand on the crown of your head. you start right off where you finished, taking him down to the base with ease.

“friends?” it almost sounds like a laugh when toji says it. “you just want her pussy,” he grumbles, massaging the swell of your throat with deft fingers. 

“and you don’t?”

“i don’t have to chase what’s mine.”

“does she know that?” shiu laughs, voice trailing off as he takes another puff of his cigarette.

toji’s focus shifts to you for a moment, asking a silent question with a quirk of his brow. “can i show him?”

you feel yourself nod as soon as the dots connect, giggling as he sits up to get a good angle.

“dunno, let’s ask,” toji says, flipping the camera to get an up-close view of the way his cock obstructs the shape of your cheek. warm fingers grab ahold of your chin to guide you up and off his length with a wet pop. 

“hi shiuu,” you mumble, sticking your tongue out to slap toji’s tip against it. you throw in a little wave for good measure, too high off the bold act to be shy now.

“atta girl,” toji whispers, voice low enough that only you can hear him.