#reverse age gap relationship

[bloomingpresent]

FERRO ROSSO CHAPTER VIII

Pairing: Charles Leclerc/Female reader digital artist older woman

Summary: in your mid 30’s you never imagined you’d be divorced. To help with the healing process you decide to return to your first love: digital illustration. Posting videos of your art online leads you to work for Ferrari. But you never thought it’d lead you to find somebody who’s going to bring you back to trust again in love.

Warnings: NSFW! 18+, swearing mention of sexual words, consensual sex, penetration, cheating, sexually themed. IT’S ALL ABOUT REVERSE AGE GAP HERE. Older woman with a younger man. They are both adults, don’t be judgemental. 

Disclaimer:

I don’t mean any offense to Mr. Leclerc. 

English isn’t my first language so all mistakes are my own. My Italian is basic so be gentle, please.

All the previous chapters are here

The sound of your cell phone wakes you up the next morning. You turn towards the nightstand and pick up the phone without looking.

"Hello?" You answer with a sleepy voice.

"Do you want to tell me what this email I'm reading?" Your agent's voice speaks on the other end of the line.

You barely open your eyes. "It's pretty clear," you answer, trying to adjust your vision to the morning sun that barely enters through your bedroom window.

"Do you want to end your contract with Ferrari?!" she asks. You can hear the sound of cars in the background.

"Yes" you answer dryly.

"Why the hell do you want to do that?!" Your agent sounds agitated about the topic.

“I…” you try to sit up on the bed. You know that if you are not honest with her, she will never understand why you want to stay away from Ferrari. "I have an affair with Charles Leclerc and I'm not able to handle it," you answer, almost whispering.

The silence on the other end of the line is worse than yelling at you.

"Hello?" You repeat, rubbing your eyes.

"I'll see you in the office in 1 hour. If I'm going to do this, you’d buy me coffeeat least" she answers on the other side.

An hour later, you're walking up the stairs to your agent's office in central London.

You can almost hear her lecturing you about being professional in your work.

You let your agent know what happened. Her reaction ranges from anger, to surprise, to understanding you as a woman.

"I'm going to talk to Ferrari's agent. It's not easy to get out of a contract like that. But you have to show up for the restart of the season, otherwise it would be a breach of the contract, at least until I can pass on my proposal to them, okay?" " she tells you as she plays with the pencil on the desk and drinks the Starbucks coffee you bought her.

You don't want to, you don't like it and you don't feel like doing it. But there you will go again, into the den of the wolf again.

What motivates you the most is that you don't know Baku, so from now on everything will be work and if possible, get to know a new city. Which is what you're really going to miss about working with Ferrari.

You have everything planned scientifically. Your agent will release you from this contract and you will be able to return to your studio to create your art in peace.

Just one more time.

Baku shows you right away that it is the capital city of the modern world. Maybe you wouldn't have seen places like these if it weren't for F1.

Everyone on the team has renewed energy after the mini vacation. But you are not.

From the moment you check in at the hotel you are alert. Or ready to avoid all contact with a certain driver.

The first day on the circuit, when you arrive at the hospitality area, you receive a video call from your agent.

"I'm afraid I don't have good news for you," she says as soon as you answer the call.

You walk outside the Ferrari hospitality area while talking. "What are you talking about?" You answer her, already agitated, fearing the worst.

"Ferrari is not willing to terminate your contract" she tells you with a strange smile on her face.

"That's funny?! Why can't I end my contract with them?! I'm just another designer" you try not to raise your voice but you're flustered.

Your agent's smile is bigger now. "They actually offer you a promotion, and from what I'm seeing it has already been made effective."

Your heart stops for a few seconds. "What?! Effective promotion?!"

"You are now Charles Leclerc's PR agent, dear." Your agent laughs openly.

She tells you that out of the corner of your eye you can see the movement of photographers and cameras at the entrance to the hospitality area. That means a driver is making the entrance.

You move out of the way, holding your breath, hoping it's not him. "What the hell?! Why?! How?!" You spoke to your phone screen in complete shock while walking through the group of people.

"Apparently he asked for you." the voice on the other end of the call tells you.

This can not be. It's the only thing you can think about while you hold your phone with your mouth open and ignoring what's going on around you.

"Be careful what you let into that open mouth," someone tells you from the middle of the group of people.

Of course it's him. With his big smile and his winning attitude. And continue walking towards the hospitality area.

You want to kill him.

You just sigh and close your mouth. You put on your best smile of commitment and walk away.

What follows is an open discussion between you and your agent about the topic. She explains why you can't get out of the contract, you tell her why you won't accept it, she tells you again why not and why you shouldn't do it. Then follows another long sermon about how good this is for you professionally.

Again.You want to kill him.

You don't understand why, how and what he wants from you.

Your agent convinces you after half an hour of your arguments and tantrums.

You just sit on the floor between the giant equipment trailers trying to prepare yourself for this.

In minutes you'd have been in front of your new boss to start working at Team Leclerc.

You are completely stubborn and you are not going to let it affect you. IF he wants you to be the person who is stuck to him throughout the season, that's how it will be. And you will be the most professional person in the world.

This is your plan, it is decided. Whatever he wants with this. He's not going to make it.

It takes you more than 1 hour to introduce yourself to your new superior and get up to speed on your new tasks. The questions from your colleagues do not wait. About how and why you were promoted. Silvia Hoffer, your new direct boss, is an experienced person and surely smells something of what is happening. But she doesn't tell you anything, she just tells you what you should do and she makes it clear that "this is a test, if it doesn't work for us, we can let you go."

Only she knows what she means by "make this work." But you're as stubborn as Charles, and you won't let whatever her reason for doing this ruin your resume.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you step into the bustling Ferrari hospitality area. The adrenaline from the chaotic morning lingers, and you can’t shake the image of Charles from your mind. He’s a magnet, and somehow, you’re drawn to him even when you want to run in the opposite direction.

As you navigate through the sea of team members and journalists, you catch a glimpse of him across the room. He’s laughing with a couple of reporters, his charisma radiating like sunlight. You can’t help but feel a twinge of longing mixed with annoyance. Why did he have to complicate things?

Silvia appears beside you, breaking your thoughts. “You’re going to have to talk to him eventually. Remember, professionalism.”

“Right,” you murmur, forcing a smile. “Professionalism.”

“Let’s start with a plan,” she suggests, her tone businesslike. “We need to establish clear boundaries.”

You nod, trying to focus. “Okay, I can do that.”

“Good. And just so you know, the media is going to love this. They’ll eat it up.” She glances over at Charles, who’s just spotted you. “Looks like it’s time for your first introduction.”

Your heart races as he strides over, that effortless confidence in every step. He stops in front of you, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, look who it is. My new PR agent.” 

“Don’t get too excited,” you retort, crossing your arms. “I’m not your personal cheerleader.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he smirks, his gaze steady on yours. “Just think of me as your biggest project.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Let’s just stick to the work, shall we?”

“Of course,” he replies, a teasing lilt in his voice. “But I hope you’re ready for a little chaos. F1 isn’t exactly quiet.”

“I thrive in chaos,” you reply, matching his playful tone. Inside, however, you’re a bundle of nerves. This is going to be a test of your patience—and your heart.

As the day progresses, you find yourself following him around the paddock, taking notes on interviews and media obligations. Despite your best intentions to stay professional, there’s a chemistry that crackles in the air, leaving you breathless. 

During a break, you find a quiet corner to gather your thoughts. You pull out your sketchbook, a habit from your days of digital illustration. Drawing was your escape, your solace. But today, even that isn’t enough to ease the tension.

“Hard work?” Charles’s voice interrupts, and you look up to see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

“Just… organising my thoughts,” you say, trying to sound casual. 

He steps closer, glancing at your sketches. “You’re really talented, you know?.”

“Thanks,” you reply, suddenly feeling shy. “It’s just a hobby—was just a hobby.” You set the pencil down, meeting his gaze. “But now I guess it’s part of my job.”

He tilts his head, studying you. “You seem conflicted about all this.”

“I didn’t want this role, Charles. I’m not sure I can handle it, especially with… everything.” 

He hesitates, the playful spark dimming. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I know it’s complicated.”

“Complicated is an understatement,” you say, frustration bubbling up. “I’m trying to get my life back on track, or was trying to get my life back on track, and being around you makes that difficult.”

“I get that,” he says softly, stepping even closer. “But maybe this is a chance for both of us. To redefine things. To… figure it out.”

Your heart races as you look into his eyes, seeing a sincerity that makes you want to trust him. But your walls are high, fortified by past hurts. “I can’t just jump back into… whatever this is.”You look around, clearly this isn't a subject to be talking around people. 

“I’m not asking you to,” he replies, his voice low. “Just take it one step at a time. We can keep things professional, but I can’t help the way I feel about you.”

Feel about you. He said that you did not imagine it.

You swallow hard, feeling vulnerable under his gaze. “It’s not that simple, Charles.”

He takes a breath, looking momentarily pained. “I know. But I’ll be here, whether you want me to be or not.”

Before you can respond, Silvia appears, breaking the moment. “Y/N, we need you for the next briefing,” she says, oblivious to the tension. 

You nod, glancing back at Charles, who offers a small, encouraging smile. As you turn away, you feel the weight of the decision hanging over you. Maybe you’re not ready to dive back into love (or whatever this is), but with Charles, it seems like you’ll be navigating a whole new kind of chaos. 

You take a deep breath and head towards the briefing, determined to keep your focus on the work, even if your heart has other plans.

PS: I'll post the next chapter tomorrow! It's Charles POV. Thank you for waiting on me!

Tags: @janeh22 @elenizacharop @h-jpg

[troublcmakcrs]

//................south park milf manor au

[coffee-and-geto]

SATORU, PhD (PRETTY HOT & DOMESTIC) — prof gojo series

His students get theories. Well… You? Satoru in a half-buttoned shirt.

pairing: professor!gojo x f!reader

summary: unlike the vast majority of people, your life at university have sometimes... nothing to do with a normal student life. good grades? pfft. partying? what’s next? no, it’s better to be your professor’s girlfriend. the roguish, charming and arrogant satoru gojo — the one who turns heads and has the knowledge to fulfill your satisfaction. and even to fulfill both your lives, which are only destined to merge… enough for you to live together.

warnings: MDNI +18 ONLY, smut, nsfw, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m!), shower sex, kitchen sex, car sex, office sex, probably a lot of sex, sex p in v, unprotected sex, rough and gentle sex, (reverse) cowgirl, missionary, doggy-style, teasing, 69, creampies, overstimulation, eventual anal (why not?), multiple rounds, eventual breeding kink but not as main (once or two), art by @/3-aem.

content: reader is in her early 20s/gojo in his early 30s, age gap, college AU, golden retriever! gojo, slight black cat! reader, suggestive, jealousy, domestic life, fluff, slight angst, crack, smut (a lot actually), gojo being gojo, student-teacher relationship, gojo wants the reader as his wife, he’s quite rich.

wc: 0k

status: ongoing

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1. A DISTRACTION? OR A DUTY-FULFILLING BOYFRIEND?

...and more to come!

a/n: welcome to this new series! i don’t have much to say here cuz honestly? i crave professor gojo so bad that i need to write down what i’m daydreaming about him all the time. also, i don’t think i’ll write everytime for this series but at least once a month when i’m ovulating or have a new idea. now, i can only wish you guys to enjoy this silly little series of one-shots with a life as professor gojo’s girlfriend :)

put your age clearly in bio before asking to be tagged please!

tag list: TEMPORARILY CLOSED | @izumkay , @lostfracturess , @nariminsstuff , @superdonkeypatroleggs , @0hisu , @iheartgojoo66 , @cax-per , @not-aya , @petalsrdead , @kimkimoruo , @indiewritesxoxo , @paolarox01 , @reverrieee , @billiondollarworth , @myahfig4 , @lilac-witch , @markliving , @sukunaslilsocks , @hyori2 , @lilychan176 , @yvesdoee , @redbambii , @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore , @princess-bblgm , @oh-my-god-donald , @etsuniiru , @ethereal-moonlit , @lymsfm , @mutsu422 , @bearwithmoo , @chiiiiiichan , @ziggy0stardust , @purplegemadventures , @shibataimu , @chich1ookie , @c-moon20-12 , @cyrenees , @tbzzluvr , @kimvmarvel , @leabyjulia , @flowerpot113 , @luvvcho , @nanaosaki3940 , @rriwyu , @heybeebax , @satorugojoisamenace , @euhphoq , @aleviia , @hellowoolf , @petalshxwer , @gojo-caturo , @ssrist , @winniethepooh-lover , @kiriyue , @your-mum3000 , @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 , @satorusmochis

© 2024 COFFEE-AND-GETO - Plagiarism, steal, translation, or publication without consent is strictly prohibited — including others social medias like Wattpad, Tiktok, Tumblr, and everything else.

[prompt-heaven]

the ultimate list of AUs, kinks and tropes to inspire you for kinktober 

some of these are darker in nature since that is fitting for the spooky season. 

AUs

academic / teacher / professor / tutor 

addams family

babysitter / nanny

bartender

biker

bodyguard

bonnie and clyde

bounty hunter

boxer 

camp counselor

circus / carnival

cult 

demon / angel

fairytale retelling

fantasy 

farmer

firefighter

guardian angel 

historical 

hybrid

mafia / mob 

magic 

maid / butler 

mechanic 

modern 

monster / mythology / supernatural

paranormal investigator 

pirate / mermaid

post-apocalyptic

priest

prison

rockstar 

royalty

serial killer

sex worker / porn / camgirl/boy / stripper 

slasher

soulmate

spy / secret agent

steampunk / cyber punk

sugar daddy

tattoo artist 

time travel

treasure hunter 

vampire

werewolf 

wild west

TROPES

a/b/o

against a wall 

age gap

amnesia / memory loss

anonymous sex

balcony sex

boss x employee 

brothers best friend / dad’s best friend (dbf)

car sex

cheating

clothed sex

comforting sex

coworkers to lovers

cursed / fuck or die / sex pollen

dark / soft!dark

enemies to lovers

exes to lovers

fake relationship

forbidden romance

friends to lovers

friends with benefits

game gone wrong

hate sex / make-up sex

huddle for warmth

just the tip

library sex

loss of virginity

mirror sex

neighbours to lovers 

only one bed

opposites attract

period sex

pool / hot tub sex

predator / prey

professor x student

public / semi-public sex

revenge sex

reverse harem

romantic sex

roommates to lovers

rough sex

seduction

sex in an alley

sex in exchange for a favour

sex while camping

shower / bath sex

stalker

stepcest

table sex

unrequited love

yandere

KINKS

aftercare

anal 

begging

being recorded / taking pictures

body worship

dom / sub / bondage / bdsm / shibari

breath play / choking

cheating

cockwarming

corruption kink 

costumes / uniforms

creampie / breeding / forced breeding

cuckolding

cum in panties

cumplay

cunnilingus / face sitting / rimming / blowjob / deep throating / gagging

dacryphillia

dirty talk / voice kink

double penetration / double penetration in one hole 

dry humping / thigh riding 

dubcon / noncon / cnc / drugging

dumbification

exhibitionism / voyeurism

fingering

fisting

flashing 

food play 

footjob 

forced orgasm

formal wear 

free use

glory hole

glove kink 

hand kink

handjob 

hole inspection

humiliation / degradation

hunter / prey

impact play / spanking / whipping / hair pulling / pain kink

jealousy / sharing / possessive

knife kink / gun kink

lingerie / stockings / socks

massage

masturbation / caught masturbating / mutual masturbation

medical kink

monsterfucking / tentacles

multiple orgasms

orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging

threesome / orgy / gangbang

partner swap 

pegging

piercings

pillow humping

praise kink 

premature ejaculation / cuming untouched

pussyjob

roleplay

role reversal

ruined orgasm / cuming without permission

sensory deprivation 

sexting / phone sex 

facial / swallowing / bukakke

size kink / size difference / belly bulge

skirt stays on

somnophilia / getting fucked to sleep

spit kink

squirting

stripping / lap dance

teasing 

temperature play

thigh fucking

throat training

titty fucking

toys / object insertion 

OTHER PROMPTS

a ritual gone wrong 

a string of unexplained deaths

a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right

alian abduction 

art come to life

basement wife 

being paralysed 

blackmail 

caught trespassing on private property

college party gone wrong

crazy ex

curiosity killed the cat

fate worse than death

final girl

getting stranded in a little town that’s not as wholesome as it seems

ghostface

halloween party

haunted house / abandoned house 

haunted object 

hitch-hiking gone wrong

hot neighbour that has an obsession with you

i was sent here to assassinate you but now i think i might be in love with you

Items moving and/or going missing

i’ll find you in every universe / century

kidnapping

lost in a maze

mad scientist 

magical healing 

marriage / wedding / arranged marriage/ forced marriage 

mind control / telepathy

mirrors playing tricks on the mind

oh, you had a long day? use me as your personal sex toy in order to unwind

oops, i summoned a demon 

oops, i’m dating a serial killer

playing games (like seven minutes in heaven, spin the bottle, hide and seek, etc.) but they have a slutty/dark twist to them

possession (ghost or demon)

power outage

ritual / sacrifice / blood magic

road trip

secret room

serial killers fucking in front of hostages

stalker landlord

stalker wearing the same costume as your partner 

stockholm syndrome

the return of a villain thought dead

torture

toxic frat boy

waking up from strange dreams and seeing bruises and marks on your skin that correspond exactly with the dream you just woke from

we’re the last people on the planet and you will be mine

you wake up strapped to a table just as a fuck machine is turned on

[koshkamartell]

Kept Woman

summary: AU one shot. Your older boyfriend Joel knows what's best for you, even if you don't agree.

warnings: unspecified age gap, possessive!Joel, low key abusive!Joel, toxic behaviour, gaslighting, reader has poor self esteem, degradation, dubcon PIV, unprotected PIV, creampie, dirty talk, daddy kink, slut shaming, breeding kink, mild dissociation.

"You woke up with a fuckin' attitude today," Joel grumbles as he heaves himself into the driver's seat of his truck. He doesn't look your way as he slams the door shut and starts the ignition.

"You'd have an attitude too, if someone else kept you up half the night with their snoring," you snipe from the front passenger seat.

Joel's loud snoring has been a point of contention in your relationship for quite some time. He always snores, although it has never been as bad as it was last night. Most of the time you can subdue the snoring with a couple jabs of your elbow into his side, or a few light smacks on his shoulder, but last night nothing seemed to rouse him. The maddening snoring was unrelenting as it sawed through your eardrums, each inhale and exhale of Joel's breath bringing you closer to a fit of rage.

You ended up seeking refuge on the couch around midnight, angry at having to abandon your luxurious king bed for the far inferior comfortability of the living room sofa. As a result you are understandably irritable this morning.

You have noticed a pattern to Joel's noisy nocturnal breathing; it seems the nights of heavy, obnoxious snoring come after a long day at work, when he returns home extra tired and ready to collapse in bed. You know he's been putting in overtime at the latest project for his contracting company. You appreciate that he works hard. But if you have to deal with another round of cacophonous snorting then you will surely go crazy.

You see Joel scoff and rolls his eyes in your peripheral vision but choose to ignore it. He always thinks you're being dramatic or complaining about nothing. You flip the sun visor down to use the mirror before rifling through your handbag for your lipstick.

"For fuck sake," Joel growls suddenly, slamming the visor shut. He glares at you and jerks the gear stick into reverse. "How many goddamn times have I told you? I can't fuckin' see that side when I'm reversin' and you got that thing down."

"Maybe you need to get some glasses if you can't see," you quip nonchalantly while twisting off the lid of your lipstick from its tube. "Old man," you add half under your breath before applying your make up.

"Oh yeah, you're so funny," Joel snaps sarcastically. The engine revs and the tires squeal as he quickly reverses out of the driveway. He grips the top of the steering wheel with one of his large hands, the other resting tense on the gear stick. He usually lays that one on your thigh while he drives, for he's always eager to touch you, to reassure himself that what he owns is close by.

But today neither of you touch. There is no air of affection between you. The atmosphere in the truck is thick with tension and punctuated by sour, fractious silence. It lasts for five gruelling minutes before you decide that you can't take it any longer.

You reach over and push the button on the stereo and the radio comes crackling to life with a crooning, old fashioned country song. You make a small noise of disgust in the back of your throat and press another button to scan through the different stations. You are trying to search for something more palatable, something more upbeat to lift you out of this shitty mood.

"The fuck are you doin'?" Joel mutters, his eyes glued to the road ahead of him. "Quit messin' around with my radio. I like the station it was on."

"Come on, Joel. I don't want to listen to that crap." You huff. When you jump over to the next channel the speakers trumpet out a fast paced, beat driven track. Yes!

"Too bad. Ain't your truck, now is it, sweetheart?" Joel's thick fingers reach out and click the radio off without so much as a glance your way. You stare at him, half in surprise and half in rage. There is a self satisfied manner to his posture now, his shoulders a little more relaxed, his brow no longer pulled into a frown. There is even a hint of smug smirk on his mouth. He's cocky, the way he asserts his dominance over you, even through such small gestures. Sometimes you wonder if he does these things to antagonise you.

"Yeah, well, maybe I'll get my own car so I can play my own music," you snap, crossing your arms and glaring out the passenger window.

"Oh yeah?" Joel chuckles and shakes his head. "And just how are you gonna do that, baby? With the measly pay you get from waitressin' at that hokey little diner?"

He grins to himself, like the conversation is an amusing joke. You hate it when he is so condescending. His atittude acts as a reminder that he's so much older than you, exceedingly more financially stable, and undeniably more wise and savvy than you could ever be.

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment. It isn't the first time Joel has ridiculed your job. He's often pestering you to quit the diner to get a cushy receptionist position at his company instead. He says it's more respectable for your resume, although you suspect it is more so Joel can keep a closer eye on you than anything else.

"I like my job," you retort quietly, staring at the passing scenery outside your window. You hear Joel hum an acknowledgement before he clears his throat.

"I know, honey. I just don't get why," he says, tone considerably softer now. He glances over to you and you can feel the weight of his gaze, you but you don't meet it. "You could be earnin' atleast double what you make if you came to work with me."

The truth is that you genuinely do enjoy your job. You like keeping busy and being a part of the close knit team that operate the place. You cherish the rapport you've built with the regular costumers and you thrive on the praise they give you. Leaving your position would be giving up your safe space, somewhere where you belong and feel valued. It would be forfeiting your only remaining slice of independence.

You don't share any of this with Joel.

"They need me," you say in a small voice. "That's what Lenny always says."

Lenny is your boss, a funny and kind older gentleman who acts like a surrogate uncle to you. He often jokes that he has been managing the diner longer than you've been alive. He has always been a source of support for you, as have the other waitresses and line cooks.

Joel snorts derisively. "They don't need you, honey. They just use ya. Lenny wouldn't think twice about replacin' you if he had to."

"That's not true," you mumble weakly. You know what Joel says is not true but there is still a tiny niggling doubt in your mind that perhaps Joel is right. He usually is, after all.

He puts his large palm over your knee where your skirt has ridden up and strokes the bare skin there. The touch of his thick, calloused hand feels possessive. "Trust me darlin', some other girl would be fillin' your shoes before you even step foot outta that shithole."

His tone isn't cruel; he sounds matter of fact and concerned, paternal in his conviction. You sigh softly and don't bother to argue back. You don't speak for the rest of the few minutes drive to your work. The tension in the truck lingers, a sense of unease that makes you feel on edge, but Joel seems totally unaffected by it. He hums, carefree and seemingly oblivious, one hand on the top of the wheel and the other still on your knee. Always so in control, always so confident.

You stare out the window with a vacant expression, a myriad of thoughts passing through your mind.

How much money have I saved now? Will Joel be angry if I work the double shift on Saturday? I need the money. Should I tell him about the invite to Paul's party now or later? My sister texted again but I just ignored it - Joel would say I keep inviting drama into my life if I text back, but I feel bad.

You don't realise how quickly the drive passes until the rundown Lenny's sign comes into view and bursts your train of thought like a bubble. As Joel pulls into the parking lot you realise just how eager you are to don your little apron and turn off all the thoughts and emotions you don't want to deal with. Joel parks the truck and you have to fight the urge to jump out and scurry straight through the diner door.

"I'll see ya tonight, baby," he murmers, leaning over to plant a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth, the scruff of his moustache tickling your lips. You flash him a little smile and slip out of the truck.

The diner was busier than usual today. The steady trickles of people meandering through to get a bite to eat or something to quench their thirst make it impossible for you to even get a decent lunch break. You and Teresa bustled around the tables serving endless cups of coffee and milkshakes alongside stacks of plates laden with burgers, fries, sandwiches and all day breakfast specials. The lunch time rush was so chaotic that you thought the line cook would have a heart attack.

You didn't mind being run off your feet - it made the noise in your head turn into low level static, a kind of vibration that silenced the anxiety and allowed you to simply exist. Working as a team, being surrounded by friends, helped you to breathe more clearly, and by the end of the day you felt a pleasant ache in your cheeks from smiling so much.

The flow of patrons only began to dwindle once the end of your shift rolled around. The sun was beginning to set, pretty pink and orange hues splashed over the western horizon, signalling the end of the day. You stand outside the diner around the side of the building and share a smoke with Tony, one of the linecooks. He's an older man around Joel's age, with a charming smile and eyes that seem to twinkle. He's always affable and chatty, a perfect gentleman.

"You goin' to Paul's party?" He asks as he takes an inhale of his cigarette. He leans against the brick wall and passes the rolled cigarette to you. You accept it and take a drag.

"I dunno," you reply with a shrug of your shoulder, exhaling a winding curl of smoke from your nose. "Not sure what I'm doing that night."

Tony's mouth quirks into a half smile and he nods, something playful and knowing in his expression. You raise an eyebrow at him and cock your head to the side curiously.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Tony holds his hand out and you pass the cigarette back to him. "Nothing," he replies casually. "Just wondering if it's that or if it's because that boyfriend of yours won't let you."

You wrap an arm around your middle and scoff, but the noise comes out sounding more defensive than you would have liked. "He's got nothing to do with it," you mutter, kicking at the pavement with the toe of your shoe.

Tony nods sagely and pops the smoke inbetween his lips. "Uh-huh," he dismisses smoothly, "well anyway, me and Teresa are goin', if you wanna hitch a lift with us."

"Thanks. I'll let you know."

Less than a minute later you spy Joel's truck cruise down the road and turn into the parking lot, the engine rumbling loudly amidst the muffled sound of country music vibrating through the windows. The arrival of his vehicle acts as an unspoken cue to end your conversation with Tony. Tony seems to understand; he flicks the butt of the cigarette onto the ground and crushes it with the toe of his boot before shooting you a smile.

"G'night," he murmers. He wipes his palms on his apron and steps around you to walk back into the diner. Joel pulls up a few parking spaces from where you stand, further toward the back of the building and away from the diner entrance. You stroll over to the truck and smile when he opens the driver side door. The twangy music reverberates from the speakers inside the truck and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

"Hey baby," Joel greets you with his smooth Texan drawl. He switches off the engine before unclicking his seat belt, then hauls himself out of the truck.

"Why are you getting out?" You ask with a frown. "I've clocked off, let's go home."

He smirks and snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you close against his front. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Couldn't wait to have you in my arms, that's all," he murmurs. "Missed ya today."

You wrap your arms around his middle and lean your head against his chest. "Missed you too."

Joel tucks a stand of stray hair behind your ear and then strokes his thumb along your jawline. "Yeah?" He purrs. "You missed your daddy?"

You nod your head and nuzzle your nose into the soft, comforting material of his flannel. He chuckles softy and cups the side of your jaw in his palm. "How about we get goin' home and you can show me just how much you missed me, hmm?"

"Mmhmm," you whisper, letting your body relax into his embrace. You feel your eyes drifting closed. You are so tired and your feet ache. The thought of going home with Joel sounds perfect; he'll choose a movie and pick up some takeout and you two will snuggle up on the couch and retreat away from the world.

Joel slowly spins around so that your back presses against the side of his truck. You giggle softly and tilt your head to look up at him. He gazes down at you intently, a glint of hunger swirling in his brown eyes as he scans your face.

His large hand slides from your jaw back to the nape of your neck. "You're so pretty, baby," he cooes. His fingers thread through the strands of hair at the base of your skull, gently at first, before he closes his fist and pulls your hair taut in his grip. You wince at the sting of your scalp. "So pretty. And just for me, right?"

Joel suddenly captures your mouth in an impassioned kiss, pushing his tongue past your lips with a dominanting force that almost feels desperate, as if he wants to consume you. You feel overwhelmed by the intensity but you let it happen, allowing your mouth to be claimed by him. You can taste the coffee and mint on his breath, while the faint mix of his cologne, sweat and cigarette smoke fills your nostrils - it intoxicates your senses, making you slightly dizzy, and you sag back against the car.

Joel's other hand squeezes your hip possessively. You're pinned between him and the truck and it makes you feel small and vulnerable, more or less trapped by his solid frame. He slots his thigh inbetween your legs and you feel the buckle of his belt dig into your stomach.

You wait until you are struggling to breath before you finally press your palms against his broad chest and push, although you're far too weak to actually get him to stop. He eventually relents and breaks the kiss, though he keeps his face close to yours.

"Make it so fuckin' hard to keep my hands off you," he mutters, nuzzling his aquiline nose against yours. You let out a breathless giggle and fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

"Let's go home, it's been a long day," you offer. Joel presses a light kiss on the tip of your nose and grins, his warm breath beating over your cheeks.

"Not yet," he whispers, "can't stop myself, baby. You already got me so fuckin' hard." He grinds his erection against your crotch, his hardened cock straining the material of his jeans. "Feel that, honey? Feel how fuckin' crazy you make me?"

You feel a tug of panic within your tummy. He has that telltale tone in his voice; gravelly with lust, but with something dangerous simmering below the insistent ardor of his affection. It is how he sounds when he wants something.

And Joel always gets what he wants.

"Joel...," you murmer hesitantly, trying to keep the nervousness from cracking through your voice. "Not here, please not now. Let's go home first."

You're grateful that Joel has collected you from the back corner of the parking lot, just far enough to be partly secluded from traffic and other people walking around. But you are still less than sixty feet from the inside of the diner where your coworkers and boss are currently still working.  

"Just for a minute, baby, just need to feel you real quick." Joel reaches down and hitches up the hem of your skirt to dip his hand underneath. The caress of his calloused hand gliding up to the apex of your thighs causes a shiver to crawl up your spine. His touch always feels so good, so enticing, and when his fingers find the crotch of your panties a gasp escapes your lips.

"Joel," you whisper anxiously, clutching to the lapel of his jacket. He presses his fingers to your clit, groaning with pained lust when he feels the damp material of your panties.

"Fuck," he breathes. He fingertips begin to draw light circles over the bud, immediately eliciting a spark of pleasure to flood through your lower belly. "Just needed to feel you, sweetheart. Been thinkin' of you all day."

Joel leans down and kisses you once again, tongue slipping into your mouth and lapping at yours with fervid hunger. You feel your hips buck involuntarily, your body suddenly craving his touch, greedy for him to continue his minstrations.

He rubs your clothed clit with expert dexterity, the pressure steady but just light enough that your climax builds quite quickly. You hate how quickly he can unravel you, how effortlessly he seems to command your pleasure; but the blossoming ecstasy seems to rob you of your shame, making you forget just where you are.

All you can focus on is Joel.

Your heartbeat thrums in your chest and your breath comes in short, heavy exhalations through your nose. You feel your pussy flutter with electric pulses - you're close.

So fucking close.

Then it stops.

Joel withdraws his hand from your heat and loosens his other from your hair at the same time. He breaks away from the kiss and shuffles his boots backward a step, pulling out of your grasp.

What the fuck?

You lean forward in an embarrassing attempt to chase his lips, and whine in frustrated confusion.

"Joel what are you doing?" You pout, scowling at him.

He ignores you, glancing down as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans. You watch as he takes hold of his hard cock and pulls it out from his underwear, foreskin retracting to reveal the fat head already wet with precum.

Your eyes widen in shock and your head swivels from side to side, nervously scanning for any sign of someone walking by. "Joel!" You hiss. "Are you insane?!

"Sssh," Joel croons, not bothering to look up at you. "Can't help it, baby, you're driving me crazy." He gives a lazy pump of his cock and steps between your legs again, his heavy boots nudging your feet apart to widen your stance. "Come on honey, be good for me."

"No, Joel, not here, please," you protest hurriedly, but he isn't listening to you. His massive hand tugs your skirt upwards, exposing your legs to the cool evening air and the warm metal of the truck behind you. Joel forcefully slots his body inbetween your thighs and impatiently yanks your underwear to the side, your slick arousal smearing over your lips. Your panic increases when you feel the heat of his cock press against the opening of your pussy.

He won't actually fuck you here, will he?

"Joel!" You plead, smacking your hands against his chest helplessly. You've got to get him to stop, to wake him out of this horny stupor. Someone could pass by any second and see what's happening. You'll be humiliated if anyone finds you in such a compromising position, but you will surely die from mortification if someone from work spies you. "Please."

A low growl of annoyance rumbles from Joel's chest and his hand comes to squeeze your hip, not tight enough to hurt you but firm enough to make you stop moving. He glares at you now, his pupils blown wide with predatory desire, his jaw ticking. You whimper and let your hands fall to your sides.

"I ain't askin'," Joel warns in a husky whisper. "Open up, little girl."

There's no use fighting it.

You basically agreed to it anyway, letting him touch you like that just a moment ago.

You stay silent as you acquiesce, spreading your legs further and hitching one up to sit over his hip. "That's it," he purrs lowly, "let me in."

The stretch of the crown of his cock breaching your hole makes you grimace in discomfort. He is big - the biggest you've ever had - and it always hurts when he first ruts into you. You're wet but no where near enough to facilitate a smooth entry, especially because he hasn't worked you open on his fingers beforehand either.

He groans with satisfaction when he slides into your pussy in short stuttering bursts, hand on your hip gripping you tight in place. You scrunch your eyes shut and bite down on your bottom lip to try repress the pained moans threatening to spill out from you.

"You're tight, honey," Joel murmers. "You gotta relax." His other hand comes up to cup your cheek in his large palm tenderly. "Breathe through it, come on."

He tilts his head down to press a light kiss to your hairline and the scratch of his scruffy beard prickles your skin. He is only halfway inside of you and the sting of intrusion seems to only intensify; maybe your body is rejecting Joel, so conscious of your shame and unwillingness that your insides are refusing to adjust.

You remember the first time you and Joel had fooled around, how intimidated you were when you had discovered just how well endowed he was. *"Don't worry, baby, I'll make it fit," he had said with a chuckle.

And that's what he was going to do now - make it fit, whether or not you were ready for it.

You don't even get the chance to regulate your breathing before Joel drives his hips forward and feeds his length all the way inside you. Your mouth falls open and a choked whine claws its way up your throat, and on reflex your hands ball the flannel of his shirt into your fists.

You're so unbelievably full.

"Good girl," Joel praises you in a velvety mumble that makes your clit unexpectedly throb. "Knew you could take it."

You can't help but preen on the inside at the tiny scrap of approval. You feel your pussy clench and unclench around him. You whimper and flutter your eyelids open, your dizzying vision settling on the tanned skin of Joel's strong neck, the veins by his jugular. You fight the urge to latch onto the spot and sink your teeth into him, to do something to bite back at him.

His hips start to saw back and forth with steady momentum, slowly punching his fat girth in and out of you. The burning sensation eventually dulls but the feeling of your insides parting continues to bombard you, bordering on unbearable, and it makes you mewl pathetically.

"Never get sick of splittin' this pussy open. Love seein' you cry on my cock." Joel plants a sloppy kiss on the side of your temple, seeming to relish the taste of the salty sweat of your skin.

Joel's appetite for sex has always been pretty voracious; it isn't uncommon for him to sneak up on you in the kitchen and bend you over the counter to fuck you while you're trying to cook, or for you to wake up in the mornings with his tongue lapping at your cunt. It still surprises you that a man his age has such insatiable desire, but you really can't complain, not when he's able to coax orgasm after orgasm from your body so effortlessly.

But right now you're desperately wishing he would atleast try to control himself, that he wouldn't let his animalistic compulsion cloud his sense of rationality and make him so reckless. Joel is usually a conservative kind of man, no nonsense and a tad grumpy in temperament, who would probably sneer in disgust at the idea of a man fucking his woman outside the privacy of their home. Those who know him would never in their wildest dreams guess that Joel would do such a thing - such debauchery is far more characteristic of his younger brother, Tommy.

But with you it seems Joel loses all sense of conventionalism.

You wouldn't have ever imagined him doing this, either, considering how possessive and protective he is. But you've learnt that Joel seems to foresake his self righteous attitude whenever it suits him, and more often than not when it benefits him.

Maybe you should've tried harder to persuade him to stop, to take you home instead.

"You daddy's little cock slut?" Joel rumbles in your ear. His hand leaves its bruising hold on your hip to slide over your mound. You feel the rough pad of his thumb press on your clit and your legs twitch at the contact.

He starts to swipe deft circles over the bud and soon a buzzing wave of bliss reignites once more throughout your belly. You can't help but moan, the uncomfortable sensation of being forced open finally dissipating enough to allow you to feel a degree of pleasure.

He maintains the momentum of his hips rolling against yours as he rubs your clit; soon your body is overtaken with the barrage of Joel's movements and the ecstasy he imposes upon you, and you find yourself going slack against the truck panel. The shame and anxiety you felt begins to fade as you surrender to Joel.

Your legs tremble and he senses your strength draining, always so attuned to your body and the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. He gives your cheek a light slap.

"Stay with me, baby," Joel commands."Hold on to me, I got you."

You obey, your hands feebly grabbing at the meat on his flanks to help keep you steady. He nods down at you, his fat cock still plunging in and out of your pussy, all while he massages your clit. He plays your body so expertly, like an instrument, like he knows you inside and out, knows that he's the only man who can take you apart so deliciously. Your mind starts to feel like it's floating the closer your orgasm creeps up.

"That's it, honey. You love this cock so fuckin' much, don't you? Joel grits, nuzzling his nose against your forehead. His accent is like honey to your ears, thick and dripping with lust as he whispers filth. "Greedy little pussy can't ever say no to gettin' fucked, can she?"

You whine brokenly in response, breaths coming out in short pants. You're so close, the residual pressure of your previously unfulfilled orgasm heightening every punch of Joel's cock, every circle of his digit on your clit. He continues to speak, praising you with a silky string of adoration, good girl and the best pussy I ever had dripping from his mouth.

Your orgasm reaches its peak and a swell of intense bliss blossoms from the depths of your loins to surge all throughout your body. Your pussy contracts and spasms, a trickle of juice squirting down Joel's shaft and over his balls. You have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from crying out, causing a drop of blood to bloom out over your tongue. Your fingernails are close to tearing Joel's shirt, surely leaving indents on his skin even through the material.

"Yeah, that's it baby, cum on this cock," Joel rumbles with satisfaction.

He fucks you through your orgasm to prolong your high, but you quickly reach the point of overstimulation; you plead for him to stop, your voice hoarse and tired, devoid of strength. He continues for a few seconds longer, just to tease you and make you squirm on his dick, but then he stops.

"Good girl, so good for me," he whispers, planting another wet open kiss against your temple, his mouth hot and slobbering.

You're exhausted now and just want to sleep, the post orgasm delirium settling over your mind and body like a thick cloud.

But Joel isn't finished with you yet.

He sets both his massive hands on your hips and begins to fuck into you with renewed vigor. It rips you from the alluring pull of drowsiness and you squeal at the unexpected brutish pace he sets, the force and tempo verging on bestial, like he's purposely punishing you. The edge of your underwear grinds uncomfortably against your labia and chafes the sensitive skin there.

Joel uses his grip to pull you up and down on his cock like a ragdoll, a toy whose sole purpose is to be used for his pleasure. The euphoria from your orgasm has completely disappeared now, replaced with sharp stabs of pain from where the head of his cock kisses your cervix. You grit your teeth and claw at his sides, desperately wishing it was over.

He's so deep inside you that you swear he's stabbing into your stomach. Each stroke squeezes an involuntary guttural moan from the bottom of your lungs.

"Yeah, that's right," Joel growls. "Let everybody hear you whinin' like a bitch on my cock."

You are suddenly flooded with the mortifying remembrance of your surroundings. You aren't in your cosy bed in the house you share with Joel - you're still in the public parking lot by your work place, being screwed by your much older boyfriend. Burning shame and humiliation pour over you like liquid flames, saturating and scorching every inch of your skin.

You feel dirty. Cheap.

Like he's reading your mind, Joel leans down to whisper in your ear with chilling comtemptuousness. "Lettin' me rail you in a fuckin' parking lot, like some kinda whore."

You're caught off guard by the venom of his words; a tiny gasp escapes your mouth and your fingers instinctively loosen their grasp on his back. He doesn't seem fazed by the change in your body language, too engrossed in chasing his own high to perceive how deflated you've abruptly become.

Or maybe he just doesn't care.

"Yeah. Gotta be a real shameless slut to get fucked like this. Surprised you ain't got a load stuffed in you already."

You stare at the tanned expanse of his neck once more, your eyes unblinking like you're in a trance. The prickling of tears sting at the back of your eyeballs. You'd never cheat on Joel, would never have sex with someone else. Why is he saying these things?

Your stomach feels sick. You hadn't wanted to do this in the first place - it was Joel who seduced you to. But still, he's right, isn't he? You are letting him fuck you against his truck and you aren't even telling him to stop.

Like it's just part of your job.

"'S what you are," Joel croons harshly, "aint nothin' but a dirty whore cummin' on her daddy's cock. A real brainless bitch only good for spreadin' her legs."

Joel has always been the more dominant partner during sex with you. It comes so naturally to him, slipping into an authoritative role in the bedroom as easily as he does in day to day life as a manager of his own construction company. He does not relinquish control in any area of his life.

But this feels different. There is something prowling right below the surface of this whole situation that makes you feel uneasy; it is in the barbed edge to his speech, the uncaring movements of his hips, the animalistic heaving of his breaths. A feeling that he wants to hurt you.

"Bet you'd let me fuck your ass right now too." Joel pants in your ear, words slurring slightly from the fervid of his own gratification, like he's drunk. "Bet you'd fuckin' love that, lettin' me bust a nut in your little asshole."

You feel your heart crack a little at the cruelty of his tongue, how easily they seem to slither from his mouth like a serpent. You don't speak back.

"I'm gonna keep all your holes filled," he mutters. "Make sure you're drippin' all the time. That what you want, baby?"

Through the haze of your pain you can detect the telltale throb of his cock, the way his hips move in a more frenzied, sloppy rhythm. You know his body just as well as he knows yours; he's about to cum, and when you feel the momentary swelling of his girth you brace yourself for his climax. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips painfully.

"Take it, bitch, take it all."

Joel slams his cock deep inside your pussy one last time before his cum erupts over your walls and cervix, filling you to the brink with his milky spend. He moans and grunts in your ear, his chest heaving against your frame, crushing you further into the panel of the truck, crumpling your far more delicate and smaller body.

He pulls out of you swiftly and you are immediately hit by the aching emptiness left inside you. You scramble to adjust your panties and to pull your skirt down, and your balance teeters dangerously. Joel is quick to catch you from falling to the ground, wrapping his hands around your upper arms to keep you upright.

"Whoa, honey, easy." He soothes, soulful coffee brown eyes darting all over your face with concern. His expression is so soft, a complete juxtaposition to the predatory scowl he wore just minutes ago, like he's transformed into a totally different man. "You okay?"

You nod your head, eyes fluttering open and shut as your brain fights against the foggy film of dissociation permeating your thought process. Are you okay? You aren't really sure.

"Mhm," you murmer anyway, almost inaudibly.

"Oh, my perfect girl," he whispers softly, so reverent and loving. "I love you so much." He tilts your chin up with his thumb and plants a tender kiss on your lips; you can't help but melt into it, like a kitten desperate for warmth and affection. The mist surrounding your senses abates quickly, leaving you staring up at Joel with mirrored adoration in your eyes. He strokes your hair and gives you a small smile, the dimple in his side visible for a second.

"I love you too." You preen and reach up to stroke at the patchy beard along his jaw, marvelling at just how handsome he looks. You want to savour this moment, wishing to memorise just how beautiful the intimacy between you and Joel feels right now.

He loves you. You love him. That's all you need. It's all you want.

"Come on honey, let's go home and get somethin' to eat," he tells you, stepping away and making quick work of buckling his belt back up.

You nod in agreement, getting ready to haul yourself up into the truck when your mind suddenly snaps alert to the lack of weight on your shoulder. You whine in annoyance as you realise the mistake you made. "Shit! I forgot my purse inside. Ugh."

"Well go on and get it," Joel drawls, laidback and unbothered. "I'll wait for ya." He gives your ass an encouraging pat. "Hurry along."

You sigh dramatically and turn around to go back inside. He folds his arms and leans back against the truck, eyeing the sway of your ass while he tries to conceal the conceited triumph radiating through his chest. Yeah, he knows what he pulled was an asshole move, but it had to be done. You've been getting a little too mouthy for his liking, a little too friendly with your coworkers. And once he knocks you up you won't have any more excuses to keep working at this shitty diner. You will be at home, barefoot and pregnant, with no where else to go and no one else to rely on. You'll be marked for life. A kept woman.

He smiles a little to himself, content with the knowledge that as you make the walk back to the diner the slow gush of his semen will be creeping into the gusset of your panties.

credit to @saradika-graphics for the divider

[brianquinnlvr]

𝐁𝐅𝐁, 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

SUMMARY you've had a crush on your best friends older brother for at least three years now. but he's always been so far out of reach that the thought of the two of you together just sounded wrong to others. for starters, he's three years older than you. and while that isn't a problem now that you're 19 and hes 22, which is not illegal, it was always a problem at the beginning of your crush. another bump in the road happens to be the fact that you're a pogue, and not just any pogue, john b routledge's twin sister. it wasn't necessarily his distaste for pogues though, it was more of a reputation thing. but after a party one night, maybe he can put his reputation aside.

rafe cameron x routledge!silly!reader 💌

au where he's not a murderer and he + sarah have a regular sibling relationship 🫡 also smau, along with irl

warnings: suggestive, slight age gap

series masterlist, next part

you sat at the edge of your bed, scrolling on your phone as you awaited the arrival of the cameron siblings. you'd never been the type to be any form of secretive about a crush, in your eyes, there was other fish in the sea. if you're not madly in love with them, then rejection isn't that big of a deal. but rafe cameron rejecting you would be absolutely humiliating, considering you were so delusional about him that you qualified for a padded white room and possibly even a straight jacket. and well, now that you know he's aware of your crush on him, you are not looking forward to seeing him.

so as you hear the honking of rafe's truck, you jump slightly, pinching the bridge of your nose and exiting your room, making your way into the living room where your brother john b was. "farewell jb." you spoke. he sat up from his spot on the couch, leaning over to look out the window with furrowed eyebrows. "did sarah take rafe's truck?"

you sighed, sliding your converse on. "no, rafe's taking us." you grumbled, pulling on the laces of your shoes and tying them. "this is the only time i've ever dreaded seeing rafe cameron." john b chuckled. "good luck." 

as you stood up and gathered yourself, you turned to the door, calling behind you to your brother as you opened it. "thanks g. be back soon!" you didn't wait for a response as you exited the home. a smile erupted on your face as you made eye contact with sarah through the windsheild of rafe's truck, waving and jogging over to the vehicle.

you climbed in the back seat, sitting in the middle. "hi sar-bear." you said normally, in an effort to put up a front that you didn't care about the whole rafe knowing you like him thing. it wasn't really the fact of him knowing, but more of the fact that you seriously genuinely never had a chance.

but.. now that he knows, whats the harm in flirting? "hey beautiful." you said to rafe, to which he sighed through his nose. "hi yn." he grumbled, putting the car in reverse, his right hand going to the back of the passenger seat to help himself turn around, and god did he look good.

you were going to open your mouth to address his slutty actions, but you decided against it, silently sitting in the back of the truck until you pulled into the parking lot of the mall.

you and sarah unbuckled your seatbelts and began climbing out, ready to thank rafe for the ride but you paused as you noticed him getting out. "what are you doing?" you asked, eyebrows knitted together. he shrugged as you climbed out. "what? thought i was gonna drive all the way here just to drop you off? i need new swimming trunks anyways."

great. just what you needed. not only did you have to have an awkward car ride in the presence of the finest man alive being aware you thought he was the finest man alive, but now he'd be walking around the building with you—or at least you assumed, saying a silent prayer to yourself that he'd wander off alone.

he didn't, though. but he didn't really make his presence unbearable, either. he didn't say much—like at all. he did separate himself once or twice, also never really directly talking to you when he did choose to open his mouth. until sarah saw one of her old friends from highschool, that was. obviously, with you being a pogue, you did not go to the kook academy. so when sarah ran off to greet her friend that you'd never seen a day in your life, you stayed back, sipping on the auntie anne's lemonade with an h&m bag sitting in your hand, along with a bath and body works bag

last week you'd worked overtime at the wreck, so you figured you'd treat yourself with the extra money. though everything was insanely expensive these days, so you didn't get much. "so..." you mumbled at an attempt to break the silence. you were gonna follow up with something about the weather, or whatever it is people like rafe talk about. probably stockmarkets or something. but you couldn't help yourself from flirting just a little. i mean look at him, anyone who can control themselves around rafe cameron has the self control of a literal saint. "be honest, you only came in to be in my presence."

you wanted to say something a little more unsettling like 'hows that dick', but you managed to keep a bit of dignity. obviously you knew he was absolutely not there for you, but you did not expect him to play along. "you caught me." he said, his lips pressing into a thin line. 

you chuckled softly. "it's okay, don't be embarrassed. i'm used to guys being obsessed with me." you continued jokingly, eyes trained on his insanely beautiful face. "oh i'm the obsessed one?" he asked, his buff arms crossed over his chest as he tilted his head slightly, a very slight smirk on his lips now. "cus... if i recall correctly, you're the one who has sexual fantasies about me."

your cheeks burned bright red, not expecting him to bring up the message from earlier. you played it off by rolling your eyes, but it was clear to him that you were embarrassed. it gave him a sense of accomplishment. he couldn't explain it, but making you flustered felt nice in way.

thankfully, sarah walked up before the conversation could go any further and get any more awkward. "hey guys." she said with a smile. "sorry, old friend from highschool. what store next?"

you shrugged, knowing your budget was getting low. "theres a new shop over on the other end of the building. kie went recently, she said i'd love it." sarah smiled, beginning to walk in that direction, noticing the slight blush on your cheeks and the smug state rafe seemed to be in, but she chose to ignore it. "lets go then."

the walk to the shop was short, you and sarah talking about random things while rafe still followed silently behind, his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts. the moment you entered the store, you knew you'd be coming back. 

your eyes immediately landed on a pair of dark denim shorts with a pretty floral pattern embroidered on it that reminded you so much of adrianne lenker's album cover for songs and instrumentals. you rushed over to them. "oh my god i need these immediately." you looked at the size, seeing they were your size. "this is fate. hallelujah thank you god." you said in a more humerous manner, going to look at the price tag. your smile faltered a bit as you saw the price tag, and you sighed, placing them back on the shelf. "okay, nevermind, apparently god hates me."

you always struggled with money growing up, but rafe and sarah were apart of one of the richest families on the island. i mean, they lived in the tannyhill mansion for fucks sake. sarah was your best friend, so you knew she'd absolutely never judge you for your financial state being so different from her's, but you were still ashamed of it. you were so different from her in so many ways. and obviously you were even more embarrassed with rafe there, who you'd flirted with a mere 5 minutes ago. it wasn't getting you any closer to getting in his pants, thats for sure.

sarah giggled softly, picking them back up. "it's okay, i'll sugar mama you." she winked. you smiled at her. "well thank you, but i'm not letting you buy me a $32 pair of shorts." she dismissed you with her hand. "don't be silly, yn." sarah reached for her wallet, opening it, and her smile was the next to falter. "shit. i don't have enough cash left and i forgot my card on my desk. i promise i'll come back and get them when my car gets done later."

you were the one dismissing her with your hand now, making a "pssht." sound. "its okay sar, i don't need them. i'm serious. i'll come back and get them when my next paycheck hits." she sighed. "fine. but only because ward put me on a limit until i get a job anyways." 

you chuckled, making your way to the vinyl section of the store, shopping through. you caught a glimpse of rafe in the corner of your eye, unable to resist yourself from looking at him as you turned your head, not even trying to hide the staring. he was standing at the place the three of you just were, seemingly shopping through the woman's clothing right there. 

you sighed, assuming he probably had a girlfriend or something that he was shopping for. rafe absolutely never posted on social media, and he was also never really at any parties or bonfires anymore. he was so mysterious, and it unfortunately made him a million times hotter.

after a moment, you went back to shopping through the vinyls and conversating with sarah about some of the albums you'd found. it wasn't long until you were climbing back into the backseat of rafe's truck with sarah shotgun. once rafe climbed into the drivers seat, instead of immediately turning on the car like you'd expected, he turned to you and handed you a bag from the store earlier. you furrowed your eyebrows, grabbing the bag cautiously. "whats this?" 

he turned back and started the car, beginning to drive. "i bought you the shorts. now you don't have to spend your next paycheck on them." he shot you a smile through the rear-view mirror then just went on about his day. "well thank you." you said softly, looking inside of the bag. "hot and thoughtful. how am i your only current bitch? against your will, too."

he rolled his eyes, but you could see the small hint of a smile on his face. it was like he was purposely trying to make himself look more boyfriend material than he already did.

v speaks: hi this was lowkkkkk ass but its just cus its an intro part i'm sorry like i have nothing from a previous part to build off of or anything��� ill be better #swear also im shaking in my boots i havent published any writing since 2023

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ IN YOUR ARMS (I’M WARMEST) — GETO SUGURU.

contents. it’s a bit of a prequel to this drabble about the shower scene, but can be read as a stand alone, post hidden inventory arc, depressed suguru :(, small spoon suguru bc he deserves to be held, reverse comfort, established relationships, healing suguru agenda !! i’m passionate about this agenda !!!!!!!

usually, instead of you sneaking into suguru’s room, it’s the other way around. usually, he slips under your sheets and curls around your body, your combined giggles seeping into the sheets as he sneaks in a few hours of sleep with you in his arms before he inevitably has to leave before he’s caught.

tonight is different, though—suguru hasn’t come to your room to sleep with you in more than a few days. you don’t even think he even sleeps anymore, if the dark circles under his eyes are of any hint.

so you do the only thing you can think of: sneak into his room.

“hey, are you asleep?” you poke his shoulder—he’s had his back facing the door since you stepped in, and he’s made no move to face you.

“yes,” is all he says.

“wow,” you roll your eyes, “i’m risking a lot of wrath with yaga to be here, y’know. least you could do is face me.”

“you should sleep,” he mumbles, “you have a mission tomorrow.”

“it’ll be easy,” you say wave off, “i’ll be back before lunch time. we can eat together,” you offer.

suguru has hardly been eating—you notice this instantly. if you’d just get one chance to sit and have a meal with him, you’d force a few bites into him, but it’s been a busy week. for all of you. you haven’t properly seen satoru in what feels like ages—the newest missions he’s been assigned have been much more complex, much more difficult for anyone else but him to handle.

he hasn’t known rest since that day.

suguru is alone more now, on missions and once he’s returned. the gap between him and everyone else feels like it gets wider and wider every day. he’s become more distant, in more ways than one.

“you shouldn’t say that. you never know what happens on a mission,” he says seriously. “be careful.”

the last part, barely, just barely, sounds like a plead.

you sigh, wrapping yourself around his back and pulling him against your chest, slipping a hand under his shirt and rubbing slow circles into his bare skin. he likes the feeling, it’s always soothed him.

“i’m always careful,” you murmur, “i’ll bring you soba on my way back. will you eat for me, sugu? just for me,” you pout theatrically.

suguru is always weak to your dramatics—it’s your appeal. he finds it cute, always gives you a chuckle as he caves and gives you exactly what you want.

this time, he doesn’t offer you so much as a hum.

“if i’m hungry,” he mumbles.

“baby,” you sigh, nose burying into his hair. the strands are slightly knotted—something that suguru never lets happen with his hair. “you need to start looking after yourself more. i’m getting worried about you.”

“you don’t need to worry about me,” he mutters, “you should go and sleep.”

deep down, you know he’s gently telling you to leave. suguru is asking you to leave—but you know if you leave, something might change. something irreversible. so you wrap your arms tighter around him, pull him closer as hold his body against yours.

“i always worry about you. and you should sleep too,” you say simply, “we can sleep together.”

he’s silent.

so you let him stay like that, rubbing over his abs slowly and tracing the skin, writing your name with the tip of your finger lightly so he knows he’s yours even when he acts like he’s alone. you press a kiss to his head, and because he’s still your suguru, he melts just the slightest bit against you.

progress.

“hey,” you whisper, chin resting on his shoulder. you watch his head turn slightly as he looks at you from the corner of his eyes.

“what?” he sighs.

“i’ll take care of you, so you don’t have to, okay?” you promise gently. if suguru can’t find it in him to look after himself, he doesn’t need to—not when you’re here. “we’ll start slow, yeah? tomorrow you’ll shower. and then i’ll feed you.”

“you don’t have to—”

“shh,” you hiss, reaching over to press a finger to his lips, “i’ll bring your favorite, and then i’ll feed you like the princess you are. it’ll be nice, trust me.”

“but—”

“i’ll even give you a kiss for every bite. how does that sound?”

he sighs, hand resting on top of yours as you stay rubbing circles into his skin.

“good,” he whispers, “sounds good.”

“i love you, baby,” you kiss his head again, “i’m sorry i haven’t been here all week.”

“it’s not your fault,” he insists, “it’s…it’s been busy for us all. i don’t mind—”

“i’ll make more time for you,” you say firmly, “i promise. okay?”

you’re not sure if you imagine it, but you think his exhale might be a little shaky. and then he nods against you, leaning back so his body is pressing into yours even further. you wrap your arms tighter around him and pull the sheets until they’re under his chin, making sure he’s covered all the way.

it’s cold in his room at night—you can’t always make it warmer, but you can try to share your heat.

“okay,” he says after a while, “i’ll shower tomorrow.”

“good,” you nod, “i’ll handle the rest. now get some sleep, yeah?”

he nods—but even as you slowly doze off, sleep doesn’t come to him. but it’s not so lonely to stay up tonight, and the bed doesn’t feel stiff under his back. his hand is still on top of yours, finger tracing lightly over your knuckles.

“i love you too,” he mumbles—you don’t hear it, but he still wants to say it.

it’s a start.

i should just write a progressive series of suguru slowly healing and then we can have teacher suguru bc imagine him writing on a chalkboard with chalk. yeah. it’s okay if you moan at the idea i did too. i won’t judge !!

[sarahreesbrennan]

Are all the themes in “in other lands” supposed to be a commentary on something? Or do you just like writing sex scenes between minors, age gaps, and reverse misogyny?

Genuine question.

Ohhh, my dear anon, I don't believe this is a genuine question.

But it does bring up something I've been meaning to talk about. So I'll take the bait.

Firstly. Yes, my work contains a commentary on the world around us. I wonder what I could be doing with the child soldiers being sexually active in their teens (people hook up right after battles), and the age gap relationship ending in the younger one being too mature for the elder. What could I possibly have been attempting when I said 'how absurd gender roles are, when projected onto people we haven't been accustomed by our own society to see that way'? I wasn't being subtle, that's for sure.

Secondly. Yes I do enjoy writing! I think I should, it's my life's work. Am I titillated by my own writing, no - though I think it's fine to be. The sex scenes of In Other Lands aren't especially titillating, to be honest. It is interesting to me how often people sneer at women for writing romance and sex scenes, having 'book boyfriends,' insinuating women writers fancy their own characters. Women having too much immoral fun! Whereas men clearly write about sex for high literary purposes.

… I have to say from my experience of women and men's writing, I haven't found that to be true.

I’m not in this to have an internet argument. Mostly people use bad faith takes to poke at others from the other side of a screen for kicks. But I do know some truly internalise the attitude that writing certain things is wrong, that anyone who makes mistakes must be shunned as impure, and that is a deeply Victorian and restrictive attitude that guarantees unhappiness.

I've become increasingly troubled by the very binary and extreme ways of thinking I see arising on the internet. They come naturally from people being in echo chambers, becoming hostile to differing opinions, and the age-old conundrum of wanting to be good, fearing you aren't, and making the futile effort to be free of sin. It makes me think of Tennyson, who when travelling through Ireland at the time of the Great Famine, said nobody should talk about the 'Irish distress' to him and insisted the window shades of his carriage be shut as he went from castle to castle. So he wouldn't see the bodies. But that didn't make the bodies cease to be.

In Les Mis, Victor Hugo explores why someone might steal, what that means about them and their circumstances, and who they might be - and explores why someone else is made terribly unhappy, and endangers others, through their own too rigid adherence to judgement and condemnation without pity. The story understands both Jean Valjean the thief and Javert the policeman. Javert’s way of thinking is the one that inevitably leads to tragedy.

Depiction isn't endorsement. Depiction is discussion.

Many of my loved ones have had widely varying relationships to and experience of sex (including 'none'). They've felt all different types of ways about it. If writing about them is not permissible, I close them out. I'd much rather a dialogue be open than closed.

I do understand the urge to write what seems right to others. I've been brain-poisoned that way myself. I used to worry so much about my female characters doing the wrong things, because then they'd be justly hated! Then I noted which of my writer friends had people love their female characters the most - and it was the one who wrote their female characters as screwing up massively, making rash and sometimes wrong decisions. Who wrote them as people. Because that's what people do. That's what feels true to readers.

I want my characters to feel true to readers. I want my characters to react in messy ways to imperfect situations. I love fantasy, I love wild action and I love deep thought, and I want to engage. That's what In Other Lands is about. That's even more what Long Live Evil is about. That sexy lady who sashays in to have sexy sex with the hero - what is her deal? Someone who tricks and lies to others - why are they doing that, how did they get so skilled at it? What makes one person cruelly judgemental, and another ignore all boundaries? What makes Carmen Maria Machado describe ‘fictional queer villains’ as ‘by far the most interesting characters’? What irritates people about women having a great time? What attracts us to power, to fiction, and to transgression?

I don’t know the answers to all those questions, but I know I want to explore them. And I know one more thing.

If the moral thing to do is shut people out and shut people up? Count me among the villains.

[padmerry]

Ford’s love for & view of Stan pre-memory erasing: a lengthy analysis

A big misunderstanding going on in this fandom is the idea that Stan was the one yearning for Ford while Ford was too busy hating Stan (at worst) or at least thinking he hated Stan (at best), too focused on his research and academic accomplishments to pay his repressed/heavily denied love for Stan any mind, up until Stan’s sacrifice in Weirdmaggedon. Ambitious, self-centered Ford, who would be shocked at the preposterous idea that he still loved Stan deep down if, say, his post-Weirdmaggedon future self revealed it to him. “I thought I hated you, but I was wrong,” old Ford says to Stan, remorseful... and painfully out-of-character!

Another very popular idea is that Ford genuinely values the greater good over Stan, to the point he wouldn’t have rescued Stan if their positions were reversed. This idea is so rooted in people’s minds that when Ford’s most dedicated fans attempt to defend him, they argue that he was right to be angry about being rescued from the portal because Stan was acting irresponsibly (as if Ford wouldn’t have done the same thing). This is not about anyone in particular—it’s a tendency I’ve seen repeated again and again and again, in different ages of this fandom.

The gap between Stan needing Ford vs Ford needing Stan is so big in some people’s minds that they seem to think that poor, guilty Ford ending up with Stan all alone on a boat wasn’t the best ending for him. That was just Alex trying to make a point about “family above all” in a show about family, teaching Ford a lesson, and rewarding Stan’s unhealthy codependency...

It’s just incredible how Ford’s own love and yearning towards Stan is shoved under the rug by the fans!

I understand why, of course. Ford is arguably the most complex character in Gravity Falls. His love for Stan is shown more subtly than Stan’s love for him. You have to actually pay close attention, and often enough people aren’t invested enough in the Stan twins’ relationship to do so. Sometimes because they’re more invested in the relationship of Stan and/or Ford with other characters, and this is not throwing shade, either—on my part, I can admit I am so invested in them that I don’t care as much for other characters, and that’s natural.

My most controversial takes here are: 1) Ford has always known he loved Stan. Yes, even at his most bitter. He just didn’t think Stan was worthy of that love. 2) Ford valued his family, including Stan, over any noble ideal of greater good. 3) Ford missed Stan and yearned for his company just as much as Stan missed Ford and yearned for his company. I have dedicated this particular meta to pointing out not all moments (that would make it longer than Tolstoy’s War and Peace, just by the amount of times Ford mentions Stan in his journal) but the most telling ones re: Ford’s repressed but obvious love for Stan and their implications. I’ll break it into a few different subjects that I believe drive my point across.

Ford’s sentimentality over Stan:

A good place to start as any. Stan is in literally everything Ford does, sometimes in ways so subtle that people miss it, and in ways that Ford himself would love to deny, even if it meant lying to himself. Ford is very, very sentimental, and that is reflected in his relationship with Stan through the decades, with all the different paths he takes to cling to his past and the idea of his brother.

Let’s explore some examples, shall we? We don’t need to go far.

First of all, the Mystery Shack cottage, commissioned by Ford and built by Dan Corduroy according to Journal 3, is clearly based off a childhood toy he shared with Stan.

It doesn’t stop there, of course. Ford loves his boat motif decorations. (At least the boat on top of the shelf is very likely Ford’s choice of décor, and not Stan’s, given that it’s placed beside Ford’s shrunken heads referenced in Journal 3; we know that the boat painting belongs to one of the Stan twins and not Dipper, since it was already there in Tourist Trapped as Dipper arrives. I think it’s fair to assume, given the boat on top of the shelf, that it was also Ford’s.)

And would you look at that, his favorite place in his beloved Gravity Falls, a town full of wondrous places full of fantastical anomalies and literally a weirdness magnet, is, for some reason, a lake. A very weird lake? A very cool lake? No, a lake that reminded him of his childhood, aka Stan (as seen by the drawing of a boat and the codified message). “There is no other place in Gravity Falls I would rather be than the lake.”

But that isn’t enough for Ford. He must keep, still, pictures and videos of Stan. I won’t even focus, here, on the picture of the Pines family that Ford stares at in the beginning of his college days, despite Stan and Ford being at the very center of it and it being a visual parallel to Stan’s own picture of him and his brother. That one included Filbrick and Caryn, and the speaker had just mentioned making one’s family proud. But what about the rest?

People usually focus on the overall adorableness of, say, Ford leaning his head on Stan’s shoulders or Ford’s apologies (again, in Journal 3) to notice the implications of what Dipper says: “Ford even found an old film reel of them as kids, which he amazingly saved all these years.” Even Dipper himself is amazed. I’ve seen people assuming that Ford had these and forgot about them, or that Caryn was the one to send him these and he simply agreed to avoid a fight (there is a tendency in this fandom to think of her as a very doting and/or caring mother, but we have no evidence to think so, as explained here). Years later, TBoB was like, “nuh-uh, that was all Ford Pines!” In TBoB, Ford not only does remember some of these itens, but he makes a conscious effort to hide them from Fiddleford, worried that his friend was getting “too close” (to what? to the inner depths of his heart and mind, where Stanley was?) “I’ve quickly re-hidden here, away from prying eyes.”

And a picture of teenage Stan (as seen below), too! You would think he would just attach himself to the idealized version of baby Stan in his head to feed his nostalgia and completely ignore teenage Stan, the traitor, the one who destroyed his science project. But no, Ford wouldn’t be Ford if he acted consistently about Stan. The funniest thing to me about the ripped yearbook page is that it implies Ford made the conscious decision to include Stan as he ripped the page off, when he could have just focused on his own picture. And then we also have his drawing of Stan, a perfectly accurate portrayal of Stan’s face as he got kicked out, implying that not only he paid an enormous amount of attention to his brother and how he looked like back then (after he closed the curtains), but that particular image was living rent free in his brain. Very vividly. With details.

Now, folks, do we have any doubt whatsoever of the power Stan had in Ford’s psyche? Seeing that this is how the bedrock of Ford’s mind looked like? The boat, the swing set? I’ve seen it suggested before that these items represent Ford’s greatest regrets—I don’t know if I fully agree with that take, seeing as the swing set is fully intact, unlike in Stan’s mind, but one thing is true: they represent what Ford deep down thinks is most important, and two of three are directly related to Stan. Even the portal, from a certain angle, is connected to Stan.

Now, another thing that I believe to be related to that, is the claim that Ford didn’t spare Stan a single tought in the many decades they went separated. But here is Ford, casually confessing that he spent the last thirty years thinking of Stan:

But back to pictures. According to Alex in the commentary of Weirdmaggedon 3: Take Back the Falls, that picture of Stan has always been in Ford’s coat pocket, through all the decades, even before Bill’s betrayal. That’s why it’s so damaged. He was dimension hopping with it. I don’t think I even need to make any comment here, hahah.

I almost imagine if McGucket found that photo in his, you know, coat while they’re working on the portal or something... [imitating Fiddleford’s creaky voice] “What’s this? What’s this here?” And Ford says, [imitating Ford’s deep, very serious voice] “OH, yes. That’s a very important moment, that’s when I, um, first decided I wanted to be an adventurer.” [...] There would be NO reference to... the real reason he’s keeping it [...]. “Oh yes, this is about, uh, science, as a horizon, as a frontier to reach towards. You know, like a boat, like a ship, like science. It’s about SCIENCE!”

Ford’s protectiveness:

Stan Pines is very much ones of Ford’s weaknesses. Ford knows this and accepts this with shocking ease. How so? Well, first of all, the nightmare he had. As he tells us about it in Journal 3, even though he attempts to make light of the situation, his hand is clearly trembling as he writes, making drops of ink splatter on the page. The climax of his nightmare, the peak, the scariest moment was when Ford realized he was not the one at risk; rather, Stan was. “I realized my hand wasn’t chasing after me at all—it was chasing after my brother, and it was going to squeeze him to death!”And then, may it be noticed, there was no hesitation whatsoever on Ford’s part about whether to save Stan or not, nor does he try to hide his protective reaction. It was immediate and instinctive. “I tried to run to help him, but my feet were frozen.” It’s very telling that the Dream Hipster, the nightmare inducing ghost, thought that Stanley Pines would be the most effective thing to make Ford shake in his boots. Not even, say, failing and being ridiculed by other scientists, considering how ambitious he was.

And you know who else has noticed this weakness? Bill Cipher, of course. After psychologically, emotionally, and physically abusing Ford in horrific manners (including but not limited to: forcing him to eat spiders, driving a nail into his hand, and making him wake up on the snowy roof of the Mystery Shack as a symbolic threat of forced suicide), Bill involves Stan, as the grand finale. “But then he crossed a line.” Why was Ford’s brother that line, after everything Ford himself went through? “No. He wouldn’t.” Ford couldn’t even believe Bill’s audacity in involving Stan, even though he very much already knew Bill was as evil as evil could get. Because Bill knew, having free access to Ford’s mind, how terribly important Stan was: the person Ford loved the most in the world, more than himself.

You could still argue, then, that Ford wasn’t very protective of homeless Stan. After all, how could he have allowed his brother to be homeless in the first place?

Simple: he didn’t know. There’s a lot of things about mullet!Stan that Ford didn’t know! From canon, namely TBoB and Journal 3, we can deduce that Ford didn’t think of him as homeless, thought he was doing well for himself, living a well traveled charlatan/adventurer’s life, perhaps even a friend/member of the mob:

As Stan was kicked out, he told Ford (and the rest of the family), “Fine! I can make it on my own! I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone! I’ll make millions and you’ll rue the day you turned your back on me!” The way I see it, Ford took that at face value. Stan didn’t seek Ford out in those ten years, either, presumably out of a mix of pride, shame and self-hatred, so Ford could only assume Stan truly didn’t need him. Despite the many, many crossed out mentions of Stan in Journal 3, I think Ford at least tried to not let his mind linger on thoughts about Stan too much, because that hurt.

In his most recent interview, by HanaHyperfixates and ThatGFFan in 2023/2024, Alex talked about Ford’s issues:

He’s aloof, and distant, and he’s too perfect. And it’s like, “oh! I think he’s also aloof and distant from himself.”

I think he is, uh, deeply deeply hiding from his real feelings about things, because at some point early on, he decided that he could run from hurt by achievement and by creation, and has dug that hole so deep that he has no relationships.

If he sees achievement and creation as distractions from his real feelings, no wonder Stan didn’t get a call (or a postcard) from him earlier.

We also have Ford’s condescending, but protective, attitude towards Stan in TBoB as he considers asking for his help. Condescending protectiveness, if you will:

Notice how Ford briefly looks at Stan when Stan rants about his life:

A very ☹️ face. He’s probably surprised and concerned about what he’s hearing.

And then Stan, unfortunately but understandably, starts insulting/accusing him of selfishness:

You can notice the ☹️ face slowly becoming 😠 as Stan started attacking.

Again, when Ford accidentally hurts Stan by branding him:

That’s not even ☹️ anymore, it’s almost 😩! Things would probably have deescalated and perhaps even been fixed if Stan, unfortunately but understandably, hadn’t punched Ford in the face as retaliation.

“Oh, but what about old Ford kicking Stan out after everything, then?”

I think a lot of people who talk about this moment operate under the assumption that Stan was, well, completely and thoroughly screwed if Ford followed with his original man. An old man, no place to go, no money...

But Stan did have money. A lot.

No, really, he had, per his own words, in the extra commentary of Land Before Swine:

I do have a son, Benjamin Abe Hamilton Washington. This pile of money I’ve collected over the years! That’s my true family. Y’know, I can sorta glue it together into the shape of a child, maybe… Eh, I dunno. I do my best, right? And I do have—I do actually—not to brag, but I have an obscene amount of money. Uh, y’know, all the years of collecting and etcetera—and also grifting!

I’m not defending Ford’s actions here. Ford is my favorite character, but I’m not a Ford defender, hahah. You could still argue that what he did was an ungrateful, jerky move, and I would agree. I’m just against painting it as a “Ford doesn’t care at all about Stan’s safety” moment. Especially because, when Ford told Stan he wanted his house back, sufficient time had already passed. Enough for Ford to change his clothes, visibly, and enough for them to have had a talk, in which Stan could have revealed this little fact about himself.

Another thing I’d like to address is that Ford doesn’t hesitate at all to save Stan when he gets into trouble and acts natural about it, which is way more that we can say for Stan (as seen by how Stan reacts when Ford is kidnapped by Probabilitor the Annoying and when Ford is turned into a golden statue by Bill):

Again, not saying that Stan wasn’t justified in not wanting to help/save Ford after Ford’s blatant ungratefulness (I’m also sure he didn’t know Bill was actually torturing Ford). Not the point.

Now, back to Bill.

What I always loved about his little victory moment in Weirdmaggedon 3: Take Back the Falls is that upon surprising his enemies with his appearance, he proceeds to turn everyone into tapestry, including even Fiddleford (whom we know Ford cares a lot about!) but forces himself to spare Stan and the kids and place them inside the cages, even though they didn’t know the equation and would have zero usefulness to him. That could only be because he thought he could use them against Ford, so Stan was obviously included (instead of turned into tapestry or outright killed) for that very purpose. From a Doylist perspective, of course they couldn’t have excluded Stan, since he was one of the main characters; for the sake of character analysis, though, this is the best explanation in-universe.

That is why, when Stan-as-Ford tells Bill, “My only condition is that you let my brother and the kids go!” Bill easily believes him. Because he thought that it would be in-character for Ford. And Bill wouldn’t be wrong, not at all. He wouldn’t, because Ford himself was the one to tell Stan, just a moment earlier: “We need to take his deal. It’s the only way he’ll agree to save you and the kids.” It’s blaffling to me how many fans seem to forget Ford’s own words, and the fact Ford was very, very much willing to damn the whole universe (with seven billion people living on Earth at the time) to save three (3) people, including Stan. That Stan himself was the one to oppose and stop him. I think that happens because people buy Ford’s facade of Cold Responsible Greater Good Guy, which couldn’t be more deceiving. At this point I’m begging you guys to look deeper!

One common misconception about Ford’s character—not only Ford, but many, many fictional characters I have had the pleasure of considering blorbos—is that people take his facade at face value and judge him based off that. You’re falling for his bullshit. You’re looking at Ford and seeing exactly the man he wants you to see, instead of the man he is.

Ford demonstrated being hypocritical many, many times through the show, the comics, his journal, and even TBoB. I would go so far as to say it’s a Known Personality Trait of his. He chews Stan’s ass for being selfish, reckless, a criminal. Then proceeds to be: selfish and completely unaware of it, ten times more reckless, and a much more dangerous kind of criminal. He reproaches Stan for risking the world for only one person, but would have done the same thing.

Now, the last point of this particular subject: Ford and the erasing of Stan’s memories, which is sometimes interpreted as Ford prioritizing the greater good, or the kids’ safety, over Stan.

Dear reader, Ford erased Stan’s memories because he had literally no other choice. This is what Ford said to him: “He’ll be able to take over the galaxy and maybe even worse, but at least he might let the kids free.” Emphasis on the might, here. Might! Perhaps! Maybe! Perchance! Ford, in this line, was referring to Bill’s immediate threat to the kids’ lives—Bill had, after all, ran after Dipper and Mabel with a terrifying threat of disassembling their molecules as their grunkles were forced to watch inside their cage, powerless to stop him. After reflecting about their whole situation, he included Stan’s safety in the deal, too, now more certain than ever about his decision to sacrifice not only himself but, in his own words, “the galaxy” (and later, “the universe,” as he was pretending to be Stan) to, again, perhaps (!!!) save his family. Ford had literally no guarantee Bill would follow through with his words. Given Bill’s track record, it was way, way more likely that he wouldn’t. Bill is a liar and a manipulator through and through, one who takes great enjoyment in people’s suffering. Ford’s suffering, specifically, above all, since TBoB painted Bill as this toxic and possessive ex obsessed with his pet scientist. What were the chances?

Even if Bill, through some miracle, did end up keeping his word, we saw Bill’s plans for Earth in his daydream fantasies: taking a bite off the planet, drawing a smiley face on its surface as millions died... What a guy, that Bill! If the Earth was wrecked beyond repair, where would Stan and the kids live? How would they survive among all the chaos and destruction of the literal apocalypse? With nightmarish creatures lurking in every corner? With what food, what water, what shelter? Answer: they likely wouldn’t. The probability of human survival would be abysmally low.

Ford, tragically, had no other choice but to sacrifice Stan’s memories. It was that or risking the possibility of having to watch his family, including Stan, die horribly painful deaths at Bill’s sadistic hands or to condemn his family, including Stan, to a slower but still certain death after the entire human race perished.

Ford being aware of his love for Stan:

I have faith that most people already knew, to some extent, that Ford never stopped loving Stan, even at his angriest. A much lower percentage of these people, I believe, know that Ford himself was very much aware of that, and not in denial at all. He never even thought he hated Stan.

First, I choose to point out how young adult Ford, still in college, with his bitterness and resentment still very fresh, admits to missing Stan. He wrote, “MISS YOU” in their Bro Code, the code he memorized and never forgot. He not only thought about Stan, which would be understandable, since all of us have intrusive thoughts, but he took the time to write it down, and in code, which would be even more difficult than just writing it in English. That requires at least some level of acceptance. You may not be able to filter your thoughts, but you are able to filter your writing.

Ford does attempt to filter his writing, I know, by crossing out a lot of lines in Journal 3, most of them about Stan. But he does not cross out all of it. He freely admits to having a nightmare about Stan, to wanting to protect Stan from the giant six-fingered hand, to having the lake as his favorite place, to missing Stan. I think that Ford, if asked about his love for Stan back then, would also freely admit to it, as well. Stan is his twin brother, so of course he loves Stan.

One thing that always caught my attention is how Ford still refers to Stan as his “family” in the Journal, even after Stan’s attempt to disown him. Stan makes it pretty clear that, from now on, his “family” is just Mabel and Dipper:

Days after this, Ford didn’t seem to have taken this to heart, as seen by what he wrote in his Journal:

It’s way more likely than not that he IS including Stan, here. He says “the rest of the Pines,” instead of just “the children” or “the kids” or “the twins,” and even singles out Dipper as someone he trusts (contrasted with Stan and Mabel, whom he doesn’t).

I wonder if that’s just Ford being stubborn or if he really thinks his relationship with Stan is in a somewhat better place than it actually is.

I mean, for instance, this is their swingset (symbol of their relationship) in Stan’s mind:

And here it is Ford’s mind:

Still ominous, but very noticeably intact.

It’s ironic—I think that Ford was aware of his own love for Stan, but not aware of how damaged their relationship was from Stan’s POV.

Ford and stubborness:

I’ve also seen people saying that, if Stan hadn’t sacrificed himself, Ford would have continued, quote unquote, “hating” him. Or that his happy ending with Stan was a byproduct of his guilt over the same sacrifice, and not out of a genuine desire to reconnect with Stan. According to Alex’s commentary on this scene in Weirdmaggedon 3: Take Back the Falls, that isn’t true, either:

This whole sort of conclusion here is—what we needed to happen in this scene was—we needed pressure to be at the point where Stan and Ford recognize their lifelong rivalry and Ford does a sincere apology to Stan. And almost more importantly, he acknowledges Stan’s intelligence. Like, he says, “you wouldn’t have fallen for Bill’s nonsense,” like, he recognizes his brother has a kind of intelligence that he doesn’t. [...] And even though it’s Stan who agrees to—“I’ll be the one! Erase my mind! It’s fine. It’s worth it.”—like, it’s a sacrifice for both, like, Ford at this point is willing to get his brother back and has to lose him again. Like, both of them were... just doing what they have to do here.

This means that Ford was already wanting to reconnect with Stan before Stan offered to sacrifice his own memories. His comment about how Stan wouldn’t have fallen for Bill’s flattery wasn’t just self-reproach or some comfort to Stan, but a conscious attempt to soften things between them.

Which also means Stan’s offer to sacrifice himself wasn’t actually necessary for Ford to forgive him (or switch the blame entirely, more like, and start blaming himself instead) but just came at the worst possible moment. It was too late for them, now.

Reconciling Ford’s love for Stan with his treatment of Stan:

Now, we arrive at the last problem, which is something I’ve seen a lot of people struggling with. How to even reconcile Ford’s love for Stan, something we see hints of again and again, with his treatment of Stan?

First, this infamous line in Journal 3, which is arguably the most vicious (towards Stan) Ford ever was in canon:

That’s probably also related to Ford’s control freak tendencies. If Ford admits to himself he is not in control, that he needs help from other people, that he is really that desperate... Well, he can’t admit that, so he rationalizes his way out of that conclusion by convincing himself he would be the one doing Stan a favor (offering him the chance to prove himself to Ford), and not the other way around. He doesn’t need Stan, he doesn’t need anyone; Stan is the one who needs him and his forgiveness. (This is the moment I get the urge to reference a manga protagonist with a very similar control freak mindset, Light Yagami from Death Note. Why am I always attracted to characters with deep cogntive dissonance issues who desperately shape their own narrative to convince themselves of their full control over it? Like a moth to a flame.)

Don’t get me wrong, I do believe Ford looked down on Stan—on people in general. There’s plenty of evidence for that in both Journal 3 and Word of God, if you count Word of God as evidence. Ford himself admits to that after Weirdmaggedon. And let’s not forget what is probably the biggest elephant in the room, the 2016 TVInsider interview (if you’re nerdy enough to read such a long meta, you’re likely nerdy enough to have seen this quote already):

In terms of Stan and his brother’s conflict, we always wanted a moment where Ford saw that he was wrong. Ford’s spent an entire life imagining himself as this lone solitary hero and imagining his brother as this bumbling leech. From a narrative point of view, for Ford to see Stan be the hero finally lets Ford see the true side of his brother that he’s been too blinded by pride to see.

Ah, yes. Ford looking down on Stan enough to think of him as a “bumbling leech.” To most people, this sounds way harsher than “selfish jerk,” the term Ford himself used in Journal 3.

Fittingly enough, that was in the same interview Alex said Ford would have deserved to lose Stan:

If Stan had lost his memory for good, that would [have] provided some interesting narrative places for him and his brother to go, but ultimately the show is about the kids. Stan and his brother are meant to be a parable [that show] what can go wrong in a family relationship, [but also] show that, with hard work and sacrifice, the riff can be repaired. If Stan’s memory had been fully erased, it wouldn’t punish him so much because he’d be gone, but it would punish Ford, Dipper and Mabel most. Even though Ford might deserve that punishment, Dipper and Mabel do not.

The interesting thing here, though, is exactly that: losing Stan would be a punishment to Ford. Why? Because it would hurt. Why? Because Ford loved him. Enough, it seems, that he would suffer more with it than Stan himself would.

I think what confuses people so much is that they conflate love with like with admiration with trust with respect. They think of it as the same thing—a confusing, amorphous mass of positive feelings towards someone.

The way I see it, though, Dipper was someone Ford loved (considering love a deeply rooted, complex emotion), liked (felt general fondness/amiability towards), and trusted (to be capable of handling all the mystery stuff). Mabel was someone he loved (she was family), liked (she was weird and creative and pure-hearted!), but didn’t trust (due to his constant projecting; before anyone attempts do deny this, I’ll remind you that Ford himself admits in Journal 3 that Dipper was the only family member whom he had come to trust). Stan was someone he didn’t like nor trust, not anymore, certainly didn’t admire and—let’s be honest—barely respected (or didn’t respect at all, depending on your point of view), but still loved with the fierce intensity of one thousand suns.

I do believe Alex is at least mindful of the difference between love and respect, as seen by his commentary on Stan’s condescending love for Mabel in Land Before Swine:

But this idea that Waddles is sort of a metaphor for what Mabel loves. And Stan loves Mabel but he doesn’t—he doesn’t really think that anything she thinks is necessarily smart or right. You know, he loves like her, ah, she’s my sweet niece, but [Stan’s voice] “she doesn’t know anything.”

In the same interview by HanaHyperfixates referenced earlier in this post, Alex revealed his view of the Stan twins’ relationship:

Those characters at sea—it was so rich. They’re really really funny, because they both have major major blind spots. I can kinda write stories about them as a duo forever, because you can always excuse them both getting hyped on a bad idea for their own reasons, and then you can always come up with a reason for them to disagree about it, and it’s always sweet to see them come together again, because they’re so full of themselves, but they are also both so damaged they desperately need each other.

As you can see, the codependency is genuinely mutual, not something imposed on poor, guilty Ford after Weirdmaggedon. One thing I find really interesting about Ford is his black & white mindset, the fact that the only way he knows how to be with Stan is a codependent way. They’re either separated and estranged or sailing completely alone on a boat for the rest of their lives. Either rivals or best friends forever. There’s no middle ground for him.

Dipper tells us in Journal 3: “Still, it’s taken about a week of intensive scrapbook therapy to get Stan fully back to himself. [...] Ford’s been working at it the hardest.” Ford was the one putting the most effort in getting Stan back. Despite all, I believe Ford is the person who loves Stan the most. Not the one who loves Stan better—that one would be Mabel, I believe, or Soos, who are non-judgemental and understanding. But Ford is the one who loves him with the most intensity, which is fascinating because for most of the show he doesn’t even know how to love Stan, as exemplified by his treatment of him. Too fierce, too selfish, too much of everything.

[writingwisterias]

I know requests are closed so there really isn't any rush, please take your time and respond when you are ready. :) But I would love to hear your take on the reader letting Leon use them as a toy, while he looks at porn or scrolls other girls profiles. I just want to be a vessel for his cock and nothing more <3

I sure can omgggg, I mixed this is with an idea that has been stuck in my head all fucking day! I know this is late lmao but it works perfectly. I can't tell if I hate or love it either

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Degradation Kink, Cock warming, Dom!Leon, Intox Kink, Age-Gap, Overstimuation, Dickhead!Leon, Erectile dysfunction (Whiskey Dick), Light Praise kink, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Reverse Cow-girl, Light Angst, Drinking, Alcoholism, Self-doubt

Vendetta!Leon x AFAB!Fem!Reader

It wasn't normal to have a relationship like this, you knew that. To be with someone so closed off to not only the people they care about but themselves. You knew you weren't going to get anything better with him but he still gave you attention. Still kissed your pretty tears away when he would fuck you. Being used by him at least made you feel like you had a purpose in this life, that someone actually wanted you.

It didn't matter it was just for sex. For Leon that was perfect having no connection to someone meaning he didn't have to spill the horrors that plagued him.

It wasn't unusual for you to saunter into bars, prying on the broken men slumped against the stools for free drinks. Uni was rough, barely having enough money to pay for your food yet alone the drinks you craved. All that work, a diploma under your belt just for you to be wondering here every night dressed to the point where your tits might as well just hang out. Normally as a thanks to the poor souls you would convince to get a drink or two, you'd drag the round back or to the toilets and give them a few pumps of their gross cocks and then leave them in the alleyway drowning in the aftermath of their orgasm.

Not Leon though.

He didn't fall for it. Leon's words never slurred like the others guys did, his shoes didn't drag across the floor in an eager drunken stumble as he followed you with a warning smirk. You weren't used to drunk men being so coherent with you, to actually realize they were paying for your drinks with the promise of a ghost of your touch. The growing pit in your stomach told you that you would have to do more than a few fake moans and whimpers to get him to cum. His looks made it worthwhile, his attitude demanded your attention and effort. Almost like if you didn't cave into this persona he put in place you weren't worth his time.

However, Leon differed to the other men, somehow in a more pathetic way that caused you to suck in you bottom lip to prevent the low chuckle. No despite the darker look in his eyes, the ego you were surprised even fit in the bar entrance. The poor guy could not get his cock to rise. His cheeks flushed pink as he stared at his stubborn dick as it flopped pathetic in front of you. Trust it to ruin his night further.

You thought Whiskey dick was just a rumour, never really experiencing despite all the older men you dragged around like a puppy on a leash...it until now. Maybe that's why you took pity on him and allowed him to drag you back to his home on a risky drunken bike ride.

It was all so dangerous...so thrilling. Being dragged back to the strangers house, the feeling of sipping the alcohol from the glass he held in hand. That night changed everything, not just for him but for you. Perhaps this was you purpose in life. Your true calling was to be this sex doll for a depressed alcoholic so he could finally get some release in his supposed shit life.

It should have insulted you more that the only purpose you to him was to be a glorified doll but then you would have gotten this lavish life. To be able to wander around his penthouse free of rent, money chucked at your feet to keep you quiet as he sauntered off to god knows where. Your soul purpose to him was to sit there and look pretty.

So that's exactly what you did.

Leon's cock was so far inside of you stretching the limits of your poor pussy. It had been hours since he managed to get it to even twitch let alone becoming hard enough for you to sit on it like this. He spent half the time blaming it on the stress from the mission he had just returned from and not the whiskey glass that was sat on the side table. Your throat burned from the neat liquid that he gave you. He had to share...he always shared. You didn't care though not when it took away the burn from his stretch or the ache in your thighs from where they remained spread out across his own.

He didn't pay any attention to you, no, his eyes were glued to the phone that he held out to the both of you. Your job was to squirm and clench him as he watched the porn he pulled up. His fingers absently moved around that needy little clit drawing figures of 8 around the puffy nerve. Smirking at the small gasps that left your lips as his finger pinched it. You couldn't see the video, not with the tipsy glaze that washed over them. Instead you had to rely on the stimulation he was giving you to reach an orgasm.

You moaned loudly as he finally started to move his hips, a shallow grind nothing like the pace the man had on the video he was watching. Leon liked to make it last, after all the days of him getting this hard and thick were far and few between. The sudden change was a lot for your tispy brain, his soft grunts filled your ear as he nipped at your neck. You felt his arm around your waist tightening as he adjusted you. "Shh, just take it" Leon grunted, his lips muting you in a harsh kiss. His lips tasting like the remains of the whiskey from his last sip.

"Good girl" He groaned as his hips grinded inside you, his length barely exiting you.

You cheeks flushed darker with the compliment, your back arching against his chest just for something...any form of simulation. Leon's grip loosened around your waist allowing your hips to circle slightly. You listened as his grunts soon turned into groans as he felt your walls contract around him. You worked yourself to an orgasm, providing him with the warmth as stimulation of your moments not entertainment.

Leon's eyes still remained only on the small screen. Watching the guys cock slide in and out of the girls pussy much like his was doing right now.

He watched your breasts bounce in the corner of his eye as you adjusted yourself to used his knees for leverage to bounce once his arm fell from your waist. Your nails bit into the fabric of his trousers. "Fuck" You muttered as he shfited himself to sink back in the chair, his legs spreading wider. "Shit I needed this...I need you" He groaned. You weren't sure if he was telling the truth most of the time. You could never tell if you were actually something to him instead of a glorified fleshlight.

"Much better than my hand or any toy...my personal little sex doll"

Each word sent tingles down to your pussy, your clit twitching against his balls. "Leon-"

"Dolls don't talk sweetheart, I want to hear my video"

An apology lingered on your lips along with your moans and whimpers silenced by the bite of your lower lip. You were you to do anything above your station for him. It was all becoming too much, his cock was perfect filling you perfectly as the tip brushed against that spongy spot inside. The twitches of it were becoming more violent the closer he got. His grunts and groans finally becoming breathless, all signs that he was almost done. That his tired dick was finally ready to pump the cum it was meant to do after so long of forcing it to rise.

Your moan slipped past your lips as your orgasm finally snapped, your walls sucking him in tightly. No doll could do that, squeeze him like a vice as they whimpered and shivered on his lap. "Fuck sweetheart" He grunted as he buillied his cum into you. His eyes only leaving the phone to pull you back against him to stop the obstruction to the money shot of his cum leaking out from between you falling on the fabric that surrounded his balls. He watched your chest rise and fall you heaved out breaths, your limbs becoming loose on him like a weighted blanket.

It didn't take long as guilt settled whilst he came down from his high. Leon the thought about the way he treated you, the way you just put up with it all with no complaints. As if that was your only worth in this life.

He couldn't bare look in the mirror not when the eyes of his younger self would stare back in shame. Instead his fingers placed the phone on the side table and reached for the whiskey instead. Drowning the thoughts was better whenever it was with your pussy or the amber liquid. He wasn't ready to face the younger version of himself. Or the belongings that he managed to keep buried deep on the top shelf of the closet, where they should stay.

He knew you had your own problems that's why you didn't hesitate as he bought the glass to your lips. You didn't cough as the burn of the amber liquid settled on your chest. Instead you looked at him, eyes begging and craving for something more from him. This was the only intimacy that you got, these post nut clarity where his mind was just slightly clearer. Perhaps this is all you'll ever get from him. The intoxicating whirlpool of Leon Kennedy.

[bloomingpresent]

FERRO ROSSO CHAPTER VII

Pairing: Charles Leclerc/Female reader digital artist older woman

Summary: in your mid 30’s you never imagined you’d be divorced. To help with the healing process you decide to return to your first love: digital illustration. Posting videos of your art online leads you to work for Ferrari. But you never thought it’d lead you to find somebody who’s going to bring you back to trust again in love.

Warnings: NSFW! 18+, swearing mention of sexual words, consensual sex, penetration, cheating, sexually themed. IT’S ALL ABOUT REVERSE AGE GAP HERE. Older woman with a younger man. They are both adults, don’t be judgemental. 

Disclaimer:

I don’t mean any offense to Mr. Leclerc. 

English isn’t my first language so all mistakes are my own. My Italian is basic so be gentle, please.

All the previous chapters are here

You already knew that something was off when almost a week after your last encounter with Charles happened and you haven't heard of him. Both of you were busy of course, but he hadn’t mentioned a thing about coming to London. 

Either way, you are too busy with your art studio, which by the way, is still going and your agent had you packed with activities for it. Ferrari was still on the call but for the next weeks, you were on your own.

At the end of the week, you get Facetime from Charles.

“I might be able to be in London next week” he casually says.

You just smirked “Oh really? Got some free time?”, yep, you are being ironic about it.

“What’s with the attitude?” he asks shifting on his seat.

“Well you disappeared for days and now you come out of the blue and tell me you finally can come to London? What am I supposed to be waiting for you?”.

“Yes” he answers with his bright green eyes wide open, his confidence it’s something else. “As I made time for traveling to see you, you are making time to see me”. 

You grim.  “Where are you now?”. 

“Paris, why you ask?” he raises an eyebrow

“No reason, I thought you were in Maranello with Carlos” you reply casually. You already know he was in France with Piere for fashion week.

“I was, I’m not anymore,” he answers drinking from a glass of water. “You’ve stalking me?” he asks with a cocky smile

“No” you answer, the truth it’s that you had been checking his IG account, and you tried not to think “I work at Ferrari PR, I have to know where you’re up” You wink.

“Well, do you know where I will be next Sunday?” His voice tone changes and he puts his phone closer to his face.

You shrug your shoulders and look at him with a flirtatious smile. "No" you answer almost whispering.

He moves closer to the phone "Inside you, Making you scream my name" 

All you can see is his eyes shining differently as he whispers those words to you.

You can't stop your stomach from jumping and you even think you're blushing. But you played. "Ah well, I think I have time in my schedule for that next time for that" you answer, trying not to show how excited you are.

The next day you casually receive an invitation from Andrea Ferrari, Charles' trainer, and fellow Ferrari teammate, inviting all his teammates to London next Sunday to celebrate his birthday.

"Ah well, he probably isn’t coming to London just to see me," you tell yourself when you see the invitation.

You don't even think about it, you accept the invitation. You don't tell Charles, if he's in London that weekend, it's probably because of his friend.

By the time the weekend arrives, you don't want to set high expectations, but you can't help it. You're excited and a little nervous.

"So we'll see each other on Andrea's birthday?" you send him in a text.

The answer comes insanely fast "We're already in London since this morning" Charles replies.

'We are'. Yeah, he came for his friend's birthday and not just to see you.

Does it bother you? Yes, quite. Does this fit your purpose of not putting too many expectations on this weekend? Probably not. Are you going to admit it? Not even dead. And there's no way you're letting him ruin your fun.

So the mission is to look the most attractive and elegant to any man, not just for Charles.

As you get ready for the birthday party, you can't help but feel a little nervous. You dress up in your best clothes, and you are looking stunning. You know that Charles will be there. 

When you arrive at the party, you start looking around for Charles. You immediately see him in the corner, chatting with one of your mutual friends. You smile to yourself and go around the room greeting everyone.

You’re wearing a form-fitting dress that accentuates your curves in all the right ways. The dress is elegant and simple, yet also sexy and bold. The material is silky satin that feels luxurious against your skin. Accessorized with statement earrings and a pair of heels to complete the look. The makeup is subtle yet natural, and your hair is down, adding to the overall effect. In one word, you feel divine.

Charles is a total heartthrob. He looks dashing and sophisticated. He has a confident and relaxed presence, which only adds to his overall attractiveness

You finally get to Charles, casually greeting him as everyone else. When you kiss him on the cheek, you can smell his perfume. making your skin crawl.

Charles: "Y/N, it's been a while. You look incredible."

Y/N: "Oh, thank you, Charles. Weeks out of the paddock are slow, yes. You look very distinguished yourself.”

You exchange smiles and look into each other's eyes, feeling the electricity in the air but trying to keep it subtle.

Soon, everyone starts asking about their personal lives, and they both keep it vague while maintaining their friendly demeanor and casual conversation.

As they chat, you are careful to avoid giving anything away. This it’s the first time you are in the same room with your co-workers outside your work.

 You talk casually and make sure to keep the conversation light and friendly, while also finding excuses to stay close to each other. But there is a tension in the air, as you both know that there is more. The evening progresses, and as people and friends get increasingly drunk, you and Charles find themselves getting closer and closer together, getting away with subtle gestures that no one notices.

When the music is loud enough and everyone is into their own thing, Charles leans into your ear and whispers.

“There is a balcony next to the room at the end of the hallway. Meet me there” He says and walks away without saying any other word. There is a risk of doing this now and here and with all these people around. 

You think about it for a few seconds until you decide to go. 

The Airbnb apartment in London that Charles rented to have the party could be described as having a chic, modern vibe. The apartment is spacious, with lots of light coming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. There's a stylish kitchen and a bright living room, perfect for entertaining guests. Making it an ideal space for having get-togethers. Charles thought of everything.

Walking to the balcony you can already see the view of London from up there. You’ve never seen something like that before, and you’ve been living there for 4 years now.

When you open the door to the balcony the chill air of the British summer hits your face. You can see Charles leaning against the rail watching you. 

“Wow, so this is what a lot of money gets you everywhere you go uh?” you tell him as you take one last look to the hallway making sure nobody saw you following him.

“It’s for my friend, I want him to enjoy his birthday party,” he says, playing with his glass. “And don’t worry, Andrea won't let anyone come near here” he smirks.

You stop when you hear him say that. “he knows?!” 

Charles nods with a mischievous smile “How do you think I convinced him to have his party here?” 

“Awesome, bring more people into this,” you say taking your steps carefully. You haven't had that much to drink yet but the whole situation is making you feel a bit more edgy than usual.

“Andrea always has my back,” he says, coming close to you. 

When you and he are close enough, Charles extends his arm and slowly brings your body closer to his. The bastard knows what he's doing. "Plus I needed an excuse to see you up close again before we go back to work"

You bite your lips and smile. "You're dangerously close and with all these people here, it's not good" You look into his eyes.

"AND?" he answers as you, approach your lips "I already told you, no one will come here."

You are the one who kisses him first. You can smell his perfume again, it's extraordinarily delicious. The combination is extremely sexy for you. You close your eyes and let yourself be carried away by him. The kiss grows in intensity. Neither of you has reservations about using your tongues, Charles's hands holding firmly to the sides of your face. Your hands are on his waist.

You can hear the party noise in the background. Charles notices it. "You know we can go somewhere more private if you're worried about someone seeing us," he tells you as he smiles close to your lips.

You smile flirtatiously "Oh I wonder what place that is?" you answer him

It only takes two seconds before Charles pulls you by the hand and leads you from the balcony through the sliding door that leads to a room. His bedroom. You both laugh like teenagers.

You can barely see what the room looks like. Charles makes sure the doors are locked and the curtains are drawn.

"Very clever of you, Leclerc," you say, taking off your sandals. There is nothing to hide here. You both want this.

"Clever? Why?" he answers and approaches you.

"No one will be able to hear us with all this loud music" you reply.

He sits on the edge of the bed "Come to me firecracker" he says biting his lower lip. His eyes shine in the dark.

You can see him take some condoms out of one of his pants pockets and put them to the side.

"You came prepared, did you expect action?" you tell him walking towards him

"Of course, if you didn't come I'd be looking all over London for you" he stretches and pulls you towards him.

You laugh.

Both of his hands cup your breasts while you are standing in front of him. His gaze is on your chest now, as his hands gently massage and squeeze your breasts. You feel confident in yourself, there is no doubt that he wants you and that ignites a new sense of security in you.

He continues massaging you without saying a word but his eyes are now examining every part of your body in that dress.

His hands now travel to your waist, down your thighs. Your hands are now in his hair. You have been together enough times to recognize each other's tastes for foreplay.

"This is a nice dress. I'd hate to rip it off you," he whispers.

"Then don't do it" you answer and try to get closer to kiss him. But he stops you. You stand up straight again and he continues his way down your body with his hands.

His hands reach to the edge of your dress. Now they go under the skirt in the direction of your panties.

"More than one man is wishing to have his hand where mine is now tonight” he looks at you caressing your folds through the fabric of your underwear.

"Really? I can keep my options open then." You love a good praising.

He smiles "No babe". 

"Oh you can and I don’t?" you say ironically, you know he still sees that girl.

"Don't bring that up now" he tells you, bringing his fingers to the edge of your panties and he starts to slide them down.

Fine. You think to yourself.

When he tries to move your underwear to the side, you grab his wrist and stop him. "What makes you think that he came to this party for you to touch me?" you tell him almost challenging him.

He looks at you and smiles, "You're mad at me aren't you?" he guesses

"No". Actually yes you are, but you won't even admit it to yourself.

"Come here grumpy, I'm going to fuck out of you that attitude" he pulls you towards him. You put your knees on each side of his hips and sit on his lap. His hands are squeezing your ass.

You don't make a sound.

There is nothing like you two together. Neither of you can deny that. As soon as you two get rid of the inhibitions of work, age, and what’s going on in each other’s lives, you two are amazing together.

You kiss like there's no tomorrow. It feels good, without effort, without pretending. And this is new to you.

Charles pulls your dress up, you smile against his lips. “Let me see her” He looks down on you “Oh there she is” he runs his fingers over your folds.

You bite your button lip suppressing a moan.

“Look at you trying to hold back on me” the tip of his fingers now over your clit. “So wet,” he says and then he inserts one finger inside you making you whine a bit “Oh so wet” his eyes open wider.

“Now don’t touch if you’re not going to buy sir” You take his wrist and pull his fingers out of you.

He groans. “Come on!” he chuckles.

You stand up from his lap pulling your dress down.

 “Show me” you point at his groin “I want to see him too”. 

Charles laughs. He has no reservations about unbuttoning his pants, opening the zipper, and revealing to you the angry bulge making a tent inside his boxers 

The sight makes you wetter. You take one step forward thinking about kneeling and have your taste of it. But he stops you.

“No no darling, I’ve said I was going to fuck out of you that attitude” He pulls you against his body and kisses you while he sits on the bed again. You see him grabbing a condom out of the box on the bed “You get to ride me until my cock wipes that brat smile from your face”. He says all of this while taking his cock out, already leaking and hard, and slides a condom on it. 

You are more than ready for this. “You are going to regret this Leclerc” you mewl as you get on his lap again hovering over his hard cock.

“I fucking doubt it firecracker” he grabs you by the hips. You reach down and grab his cock guiding it inside you.

You sit comfortably on his lap full of his cock and both of you moan. 

His hands keep caressing your body, you feel so good with him, he is trying to hold the feeling of you around him. 

You throw your head back moving your hips in circles “Oh god yes”.

His hands go to your breasts squeezing them “i want you to move but…” he pulls down your dress and your breasts fall out of it “I don’t want this to end” his lips lash to your nipples 

You moan out “Good, you know what to do”. You can’t help it, your body starts moving up and down his cock. 

“Shit!” he gasps grabbing your ass and pulling it down “Wet, tight…” he grids his teeth. 

You support yourself on his shoulders to move faster and look down on him. The world outside that room is fading away as your moans get louder. “Fuck Charles!”

“I know baby I know, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop” he looks up to you.

The feeling of his teeth on your neck makes you squeal in pleasure. Your pussy starts pulsing when you feel his thump on your clits pressing it “Oh fuckfuckfuckfuck” you grunt.

Charles chuckles at your reaction. 

The sounds of your bodies against each other make it all more erotic. You can feel your orgasms approaching each time he presses on your clit and it’s driving you wild “Charles that’s …Oh god…” you moan “I’m.not.going.to.last.long” you punctuated each word with each move down his cock.

He grunts “Come on my cock” his voice sounds raspy, maybe a bit shaky. You look down and see his face red gridding his teeth holding in his orgasms too. Beads of sweat on his forehead.

His cock starts twitching inside you and he starts rubbing your clit harder trying to bring you with him. 

You come first, your moans muffled against his neck. Squeezing his cock. 

His hips push up and against your pussy making your orgasms more intense and seeking his release too.

Just a few more seconds and he pushes your ass down his cock grunting and moaning spilling his cum in hot waves. 

He collapses on the bed. You just fall supporting yourself on your hands on each side of his body, catching your breath with him inside you.  

He looks up to you with a satisfaction grim “You sure know how to ride cock firecracker” he runs his fingers tips on your lips.

You smirk and move your face to the side making his hand caress your cheek. Still catching your breath. 

“Let’s not wait too long to do this again. We’re so good at it” he whispers

You slide up and off him with a gasp and lay next to him. “I have to admit we do know how to fuck each other,” you tell him turning your face to him. 

He laughs, and you laugh too.

Both of you are gazing into each other’s eyes when his phone starts buzzing in his pants pocket. 

It snaps you from his gaze. You sit on the bed as he takes out his phone and looks at the caller ID.

“Si Andrea” “Yes Andrea” he answers while you stand up looking around for your panties. “Che cosa?!” “What?!” he says and you look at him. He sits in bed “Quando?!” “When?!” he puts his hand over his forehead in distress. “Fuck!” he says looking at you.

You are frozen in place looking at his worried grim “What?” you whisper.

He hands the call and looks at his phone for a moment “My girlfriend is here” he looks at you.

You stop breathing for a few seconds watching him standing up and reaching for a tissue from the nightstand next to the bed for the condom he just used with you.

“Your…WHAT?!” the whole situation turns into a nightmare out of the blue

“She shouldn't be here,” he says cleaning himself with the tissue.

“What do you mean?! I thought you were here for…” you stop taking as you realize what is going on. “Oh shit!” your jaw drops open. 

“Y/N this was a guy's trip for Andrea’s birthday, she shouldn’t be here,” Charles says fixing his pants 

“What do you mean she shouldn’t be here, you’re dating now?!” you spit out without thinking about the consequences.

“Yes! “ He looks at you not getting your reaction. Honestly, you don’t get your reaction either. “What’s wrong with it?” he asks opening his arms

You shake your head not even believing it. But you breathe in, and start putting your panties on again without saying a word to him. 

“You’re doing it again” he walks over you 

“I’m doing what?” you snap back 

“Getting mad at me because I have a relationship that’s not with you” he keeps coming closer to you

“We just had sex Charles! You can’t blame me!” you almost fall trying to put your panties back on

“So?” he tries grabbing your arm 

You push his hand away “So?!” you finally get your panties on “You don’t travel to another city for just a fuck”

Charles crosses his arms on his chest his jaw clenching. He doesn’t have a good comeback. He is doing it again too, swallowing his feelings. 

You laugh in disbelief.

Booths staring at each other until a knock on the door snaps you both back 

“Bebè?”, a woman’s voice comes from the other side 

You put your hands on your head not believing his silence. The knocking comes back.

He just looks at the door not moving an inch.

You turn around looking for your purse and walking to the balcony door.

“Y/n…” he whispers

“Don’t you dare Charles” You look at him with your eyes full of tears, it’s the first time you allowed yourself to get like this in front of him. 

You open the balcony door. Not giving him a second to say anything else.

You closed the door behind you. The fresh air hits your face. You breathe in fix your dress and walk back to the door to the living room hall. 

You come inside holding your tears in. You see her knocking on the door of the room you just had sex with her boyfriend.

She is pretty, elegant, and…young. 

You put on a smile and greet her as you pass by her. You don’t even care if she suspects something, you just want to get out of there.

You reach the elevator, no one notices you leaving, the party is too good. 

You get into the elevator. The mirrors inside of it show you what you don’t want to see: yourself broken for a man. Again.

You don’t want to share a tear more for a man. You breathe in and walk out of the elevator.

When you are outside the building, you take your phone and start typing away on it.

“This ends now for me”.

Let me know what you think, please.

[cheol-e-kat]

Congratulations on 333 !!! May I request from your special birthday bingo, for mingyu x reader, ceo/boss, big flirt and easily flustered and age difference 🫶🏻 thanks

haiiii anon - sorry, this one did take a bit because i wrote for it but wasn't sure that i liked it...so i made some changes - hope you enjoy it

♡ kat

bingo squares: ceo/boss + big flirt x easily flustered + age difference

pairing: kim mingyu / f!reader

summary: mingyu thought he was flirting with y/n until one day she suddenly played her uno reverse card and upended his work life and normal life and maybe he needs a new job before he has to report having a relationship with a superior to HR

word count: 1.9k

genre: ceo/boss au, age gap, office au

rating: 18+, mdni, explicit

warnings: explicit language, drinking, public flirting, public groping, public foreplay, edging, fingering, penetrative sex

mingyu was in the office early, going through the breakroom cabinets - he needed to make sure that no one had bothered to restock the headache meds. he was y/n’s main source for them at this point, and he planned to keep it that way. there was nothing more satisfying than knowing she had a migraine, and he was the one she pinged to come into her office because he had the headache meds. 

it was just a bonus that every time he handed them to her, he made sure their fingers brushed against each other. he loved the way she would glance away, her cheeks just coloring from the slightest touch. 

it gave him terrible thoughts, like how would she react if he genuinely flirted with her - not just little touches - if he laid it on thickly, how much would she blush, he wondered. pet names intrigued him too - what would she like being called - she was smaller than him and so cute. in his mind, she was a ‘baby’ or ‘baby girl’ - maybe ‘honey.’

he wasn’t the least bit worried that she was one of his bosses or that she was a few years older. in fact, that just made it more intriguing because he wanted to know how far he could take things before she called him out. better if she didn’t call him out - if she were too flustered by it. 

she wasn’t dating anyone - he knew that. he had been working late one evening when he heard her vehemently tell someone to go fuck themselves and then followed it by throwing her phone at her office wall hard enough to dent the plaster. he had snorted at that. the guy who had been her plus one at the holiday party was surely finished. worse was when the guy rang back after a minute or so - mingyu had never heard quite so many expletives be so artfully used to essentially let someone know they were a piece of shit.

so he hoarded the headache medication and hoped for a migraine to strike. 

⋆˚࿔

but then there was a twist - he wasn’t expecting the announcement of a team retreat. he watched her reaction to the news, the way she rubbed the bridge of her nose in annoyance, but was quick to smile as people started talking to her about it. 

“yeah, so much fun!” she agreed with an analyst he knew she couldn’t stand. 

he caught her rolling her eyes as they walked away. she suddenly glanced at him like she was just seeing him. she watched him for a moment and turned on her heel and headed back to her office. mingyu had the odd sense that he could follow along if he wanted. which he did. 

she was already behind her desk, typing away at something. she paused when he closed the door and leaned back in her chair. 

she smiled, “what can i do for you, mingyu?” she asked, voice overly sweet.

he had zero fucking clue what she could do for him. he went a bit red.

“you seemed a bit annoyed about the trip,” he took a stab at starting a conversation with her. it was weird when she was suddenly so confident when she talked to him. 

she hummed and leaned forward so her chin rested in her hand, and she gave her best fake smile, “i have to book a fucking flight, and a fucking hotel, and fucking pack - not to mention spending what little free time i have with,” she paused smiling more sweetly, “my co-workers,” her voice was beyond sarcastic.

she sighed, “so yes - i’m annoyed.” she dropped her smile. “what are you going to do about, pretty boy? did you pop in to offer to solve all my problems?” 

she leaned back in her chair again, her gaze traveling from his face, down the line of his body, and back up to meet his gaze. she smiled in a way he wasn’t used to - like she was daring him to respond in kind. 

his mouth went dry. he glanced around while his mind flailed for a response. “um, i can - i could book things for you?” he offered in a rush, flushing as he spoke. 

her smile turned into a grin. “oh, you could, could you?” she whispered suggestively, “you could book all the things for me and make me the happiest girl in the whole world?” she asked with a pouty smile.

he swallowed roughly. “yeah - yes, i definitely could,” he mumbled.   

she watched him like a cat watching a bird — like she could devour him at any moment. “mmmh, that would be perfection,” she said with a genuine smile as she started to turn back to her computer. 

mingyu nodded, not knowing how to feel. 

“first class, window seat, please,” she murmured, staring hard at whatever was on her computer screen.

“sure, whatever you want,” he whispered, biting his lip roughly.

she glanced up once more, “i owe you - maybe we can have dinner or something,” she added before fully turning back to work.  

but she still had that little smile that seemed to raise mingyu’s pulse. he had never seen that smile before. he had exactly no idea what it meant.

regardless, he felt like he practically disappeared the moment she locked back into emails or whatever.  

he walked back to his desk, not exactly sure what had just happened. 

⋆˚࿔

he didn’t have to wait very long to find out what all of her little come-hither smiles meant. 

there was an event - trivia night at a bar for some benefit a coworker was part of that he was going to. 

he hadn’t expected to see her there, drink in hand, laughing with a guy he didn’t know. he thought of leaving - he had already paid for his ticket, so it wasn’t like he wouldn’t be donating or something. but she saw him - her gaze was intense enough for him to feel embarrassment creep across his cheeks. he couldn’t leave. 

he found a seat and was quickly joined by her. she had her drink and one that she put in front of him.

“you’re looking a little thirsty over here, all alone,” she murmured. she leaned on the table, watching him. 

he shook his head, “m’fine,” he mumbled. 

she smiled, “i’m aware,” she said plainly. he felt her fingertips brush along his thigh. 

he felt his skin tingle. he glanced down to see her slender fingers splayed on his thigh. 

she sighed, “don’t look, sweetheart, no one will notice unless you make it obvious.” her fingers traced to his inner thigh - he tried to look anywhere else - he tried to think of anything else. 

“so, does this mean we’re on the same team?” he asked, voice breaking slightly.

“mhmm, i’m pretty good for everything but sports,” she answered, “what about you?”

he nodded, “uh, yeah, i’m fine with sports.” he nodded, knowing he felt his dick starting to harden.

“yeah?” she asked softly, as her fingertips traced the line of his stiffening cock. 

he swallowed hard, nodding. “yep, sports are covered,” he said quickly and with zero confidence that he could answer any questions while she was touching him. 

“good, need to know you can prioritize tasks appropriately.” 

he shook his head. “that’s - that’s evil,” he said, leaning forward to sip his drink. 

she smiled, her fingers still teasing him under the table. “just let me tease you while you answer some questions, and if you don’t come, i’ll give you a cute little certificate for your cubicle.”

“feels like i should get more than that,” he complained. 

“oh yeah? want to negotiate?” she asked, her voice smug, as she palmed him roughly. 

he squeezed the edge of the table tightly. “what about a bet?”

“like what?”

he groaned gently, “uh, if i make it through the first round, i get your panties?”

she hummed, “who says i’m wearing any?” she whispered. 

he glanced at her. she smiled, “yeah, alright, make it through round one, and i’ll go to the bathroom and return with my panties, just for you to pocket and sniff later while you jerk off with them or whatever you have planned.”

“i have barely any thoughts right now, so i don’t even know what i want them for,” he admitted openly.

she laughed, “cute, very cute.”

she worked him through the first round - there were points when he was afraid he would come. but he also felt her pull back. he realized she was edging him really hard, pushing him that much closer each time. 

but when the round was over, and he had made it through, she did exactly what she had promised and went off to the bathroom. meanwhile, mingyu sat unmoving, a napkin covering his lap.

when she came back, the flimsy fabric she pressed into his palm was astonishing. he glanced at her questioningly. 

“that’s all you’ve been wearing all day?” he whispered.

she smirked, “now you know how easy it would be to fuck me at work,” she whispered, pressing closer in the dim light, “just think how easily you could shift my tiny panties out of the way for you to finger me or fuck me,” her lips brushed his ear, “so easy, for you to fill my pussy.”

he turned to see her watching him - her gaze was softer, dreamy almost. 

he took his chance, leaning over, “you want me filling your pussy don’t you?”

she didn’t hesitate to nod. 

he bit his lip lightly, “bathroom?”

she shook her head, “no, but you can come home with me if you want,” she offered. 

⋆˚࿔

he grabbed a cab with her - they did legitimately use the same train station. but she just gave the cabbie her full address. 

they were both quiet in the cab. he fingered the lacey panties in his pocket, glancing at her, knowing there was almost nothing between her and the seat. he almost wished her skirt were pushed up, and it was just her bare ass and cunt making contact with the seat. he leaned back into the seat, letting his legs open wider. 

he felt a little brave and reached over, his hand landing on her thigh. he felt her legs part for him. he let out a heavy breath as he slid his hand higher until his fingers made contact with her slick pussy. he teased her pussy lips, just barely having time to work his fingers between them before the cab stopped. 

he paid and followed her up the stairs to her place. they barely made it past the front door. he was too desperate, and they wound up on the floor of her living room, her skirt pushed up over her hips, while he pounded into her without hesitation. 

he loved the way it looked when his dick fully disappeared inside her. he was sure he was fucking into her stomach. he wanted to see the outline of his cock inside her.

they both came quickly - her sticky, sweet cum mixing with his - he rolled his hips a few extra times just to feel and hear how wet she was. 

then he fell between her thighs, leaning over her, resting against her. his cock was still buried in her - he didn’t want to pull out. she was so fucking wet for him. he felt her fingers tracing through his hair.

“please tell me you booked us on the same flight?” she asked softly.

he nodded, “i did, yeah,” he whispered.

“good job, baby, so thoughtful.”

a/n: hope this was a fun take on the bingo squares - thanks for making a request ^^

♡ kat

♡ my [master list] if you want to read more

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here]

𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: #kat_bingos

bingo v. 1 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 2 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 3 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 4 ⋆.˚ 333 followers bingo ⋆.˚

seungcheol: knotting + marking | professor (prof. choi, pt. 1) | monster | spanking (neighbor seungcheol) | big dick + hate sex | forced masturbastion (prof. choi, pt ii) | voyeurism + punishment | coffee shop au + forbidden relationship (never let you go pt. 1) | bodyguard + drunk confession | anon sex + hair pulling + mask wearing | big dick!cheol + hate sex (choose your own adventure) | sexual frustration + ex sex |

mingyu: lingerie + praise kink | bed sharing + big dick | praise + worship kink | vehicle sex + oral fixation | drunk pda + no underwear | enemies to lovers + tentacles | internet friends + blind date + size kink |

seungcheol & mingyu threesome: oral |

[ taglist ] ☁︎ @syluslittlecrows [e] ☁︎ @gyuguys [e] ☁︎ @tinyelfperson [e] ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite [e] ☁︎ @livelaughloveseventeen [e] ☁︎ @codeinebelle [e] ☁︎ @ateez-atiny380 [e] ☁︎ @mingcouper [e] ☁︎ @hanniebub [e] ☁︎ @perfectiondazesworld [e] ☁︎ @scoupshawty [e] ☁︎ @peachytokki [e] ☁︎ @halavia [e - drab/one/multi] ☁︎ @haik-chu [e - one/multi] ☁︎ @gigglensnort [e - one/multi/priv] ☁︎ @ninigyuuu [m - e, b.f. priv] ☁︎ @starlit-rin [m - one/multi, b.f.non] ☁︎

[msmimundo]

God I just love how versatile Perryshmirtz is. They are enemies to best friends to lovers. They are hero x villain. They are affectionated sunshine x serious tsundere. They are forbidden romance. They are idiots in love. They are power couple. They have big size difference. They are different species. They are both traumatized. They have a dark relationship with their parents/the people that raised them. They have a dark relationship with the government. They are possesive. There's the whole situation with Peter and Lyla. They are protective. They are good parents. They like to fight each other. They will always be there for each other. They are both tired adults that could drink or smoke. None of their "first languages" is english. They are both males. They both cross dress. You can portray them as future transfem. They both have femenine qualities (Perry laying eggs... Doof having pitchy voice...). You can portray them as intersex/afab transmasc. They are both legally animals. Heinz is a man raised by animals. Perry is an animal raised by men. They are both workalcoholics. They are coworkers. Their jobs is to thwart each other. They like that job. They do stuff outside their job too. They keep hanging out after retirement. Perry falls into traps willingly. Heinz tries to make the traps fun and entertaining. They get sad when they don't see the other at work. They are misserable without the other. They are harsh with the other. They turn soft for the other. They get worried for the other. Like more shady stuff? You can focus on the enemies part of their relationship. You can focus on the interspecies part. You can focus on the age gap/experience part. You can focus on the bondage part. You can focus on the agent and criminal aspect. You can do 2nd D Doof x Platyborg instead. You can drop that animal on fucked up situations. You can drop that man on fucked up situations. You can not give them a happy ending. You can do a major character death. Like lighter stuff? You can focus on the best friends part. You can focus on the idiots in love part. You can make them domestic. You can make them understand each other's trauma. You can make them help heal each other. You can make them be flirty with each other. You can make them be silly at work. You can make them hang out after work. You can make Heinz quit being evil. You can make Perry defend Heinz from authorities. You can make them take care of the other when they are sick (canon on Perry's part so far btw). You can make Perry rescue Doof when he is in trouble (Lost in Danville episode). You can make OWCA ask Doof to rescue Perry(Doof to the rescue comic). You can make them remember and celebrate the others birthday. You can make them a happy family. You can give them a happy ending. There's still stuff you wanna change? No problem! Heinz can build an inator to solve it. Heinz could turn into Doofapus for same species stuff. Perry could turn into a human for same species stuff. They could use an inator to be the same age. They could use an animal translator (if you don't wanna write Perry doing ASL). They could swap bodies for funny shenanigans. They could use an inator to get inside the other's mind. There's also AUs! 2nd Dimension AU. Doof n Puss AU. Steampunk AU. Frankenstein Perry AU. Star Wars AU. Medieval AU. Wizard of oz AU. You can continue Doof 101 timeline. You can continue OWCA Files timeline. You can invent Professor Time timeline. And of course, you can always use fanon AUs! You can do Human Perry. You can do Ocelot Heinz. You can do reverse species. You can do reverse personalities. You can do evil sidekick Perry. You can do good sidekick Heinz. You can even make Phineas and/or Ferb turn into Heinz's evil scientist apprentice for fun adventures!

There's literally so many things you can do with them, so many situations you can put them through!

[aha-chuu]

Here's the thing. "Renheng but Blade is immortal and nothing goes wrong" goes totally against the themes set up in HSR. But it's so fucking funny.

So, Dan Feng loves Yingxing whatever. They decide to make Yingxing immortal together and then BAM no one finds out (so no big crime to be arrested for) but there's two ways to play it. Either they have to slowly gaslight everyone into believing YX was a long life species this whole time, or they have to somehow pretend this is not YX, this is some other 100% naturally immortal dude and Dan Feng just has the Most specific type ever, to the point that he basically got his exes twin but immortal with a cooler haircut.

And with the gaslighting idea - I think it could work. No one's gonna notice that YX isn't aging for at least a few years, probably more since everyone they know is long-life and they likely have a warped perception of how regular aging works. So DF & YX just gotta wait like 5-10 years, slowly dropping hints that "oh yeah can't wait till our 150th anniversary!!" And Jing Yuan is like "... Hmm is that normal? That's probably normal?".

Cos also. Who's gonna mention it? Like it's gonna take so long for anyone to notice, is Jingliu gonna eventually sit them down like "you did a big sin didn't you" and then YX and DF just play dumb: "what??? Jingliu what are you on about? Is Mara eating all your memories of YX definitely being immortal this whole time?" So that's not good for Jingliu's mental health but whatever.

Anyway so Dan Feng and Yingxing have successfully scammed everyone but DF is still definitely the High Elder and absolutely no one wants him to be dating this guy. Also the dragon heart is missing cos it's in YX's chest and surely the Preceptors would check up on that? Like a renewal service? Some sort of 200-year check-up? Does DF have to take his bf with him so the aura is nearby? It's just a game of "how dumb are these guys?" Until all those preceptors reincarnate into ones who DF can convince "oh no the High Elder is supposed to give the dragon heart to their beloved. Yeah it's a ritual. Oh the immortality uh no Yingxing had that forever obviously".

Eventually YX is gonna get stabbed and he's definitely more immortal than everyone else. More gaslighting ensues probably, cos otherwise it's like?? He's just an abundance monstrosity (Jingliu is seeing red rn) and Jing Yuan has sussed it out at this point but yknow he likes YX; he prefers him being alive than dead. Jingliu is gonna stab YX for being an undying monstrosity and JY steps in - "nooo don't you know I mean ig your parents never told you but if uhhhh you suck enough dragon dick this is totally normal -" and anyway Sanctus Medicus get a lil fetishy sex crazed from that conspiracy theory.

Then later DF has to be reborn which is sad, but I like to think YX just takes like. A gap year from their relationship. He's a divorced old man he deserves a mid life crisis while DH gets the "plss don't fall in love this idiot guy again" speech from the other Vidyadhara but it's working like reverse psychology, DH is all "pshh I'm way too put-together for that!!" And anyway YX is still a hot piece of ass so DH fails immediately.

One day DH gets a dream memory about the whole sinning part of their relationship and has to come to terms with That™ meanwhile YX is sipping a mimosa while he's having a moral dilemma. "No babe it's fine it's like. Yeah it is a hellish sin but it's cute that you're so worried about it. No they can't try us for crimes we did so long ago don't worry" meanwhile JY is still dealing with the paperwork nightmare from YX's birth certificate definitely not being that of a long-life person's but ehh.

Basically fluffy unproblematic renheng where no one gets amnesiaed or tortured is great and good even if it laughs in the face of canon.

[rin-art-fanfic-universe]

Gojo Satoru X OC

Summary: You and your boyfriend Gojo Satoru go on an impossible mission 10 years into the past to protect your younger selves from a dangerous curse. While Gojo is more than excited to meet a 19 year old version of his cute girlfriend, you can't imagine how much more immature and troublesome an 18 year old Gojo would be.

Warnings: age gap, slow burn, nsfw, yandere tendencies; all characters are adults

~• Intro •~

The green digital text on the screen displayed the numbers 05, indicating that the next train would arrive in another five minutes. (y/n) reached for her little flip phone and sent a voice note to her best friend.

"(bff/n), the train will be here in five minutes. I'll meet you at the cafe."

She gently tapped on the little icon on her phone to send the voice note and swung her bag back and forth while waiting. As the noise of the speeding train approached closer, she headed towards the edge of the platform, ready to board. It happened in less than a second. Even though the station was fairly empty and she hadn't seen anyone behind or beside her, it felt like somebody shoved her aggressively.

She didn't even have the time to process what happened before she felt like she was pushed on the train tracks. She closed her eyes and images of her mama, papa, and her best friend flashed before her eyes.

She was so sure her feet had left the ground, but when her eyes opened, she saw a man with platinum blonde hair wearing a blindfold. Just before the train could collide against her body to crush her like a watermelon, warm hands had wrapped around her waist and pulled her back.

She stared at the stranger, who now had a wide grin on his face. "I made it in time, thank god." He said, his hands still wrapped around her protectively. "Wow, you really are (y/n). I can't believe this. You really look 19 years old, how cute!"

She stumbled a step back in confusion. Words wouldn't even form on her lips as she absorbed all the events around her. What could she even say to him? "Who are you? How do you know my name? Did you really appear in thin air and save me?" So many questions, yet all she managed was, "Eh?"

"It's me, Gojo Satoru. Your boyfriend from ten years in the future."

~• Chapter 1 •~

The previous night

"Yaga-sensei, tell him to not interfere in my missions. This is really unfair, that was my curse to kill!" She whined, making her way into the office.

"You would literally die if I hadn't appeared to save your ass. You Grade 1, loser sorcerer-" Gojo Satoru started, immediately earning a punch on his shoulder.

"You're a loser sorcerer. I was so close to defeating him, but you always step in and ruin things." She retorted. "If I defeated that curse today, I'd easily be promoted to Special Grade-"

"No." Gojo Satoru's voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

(y/n) grabbed a fist full of his hair and pulled it back. "No? You dare restrict me from something?" She asked, pulling his head down to her level. "You, as a boyfriend, will control the missions I take up? Gojo Satoru, know your place in this relationship." She warned.

It was interesting how Gojo never used his Limitless cursed technique against (y/n). It would be such a waste to do that. The feeling of her soft fingers in his hair was too precious, even it was currently causing him pain. "You can't take up Special Grade missions for the rest of your loser life. I'll never let you." He groaned, still in pain.

"That's enough! You're both adults! I'd prefer if you acted your age." Yaga-sensei scolded. "We have actually discovered some really concerning information for the two of you." Principal Yaga's tone caused the both of them to straighten up. "The Special Grade curse you both fought today is an ancient deity that went over to the dark side 600 years ago." He explained.

"Wow, something like that happened?" She asked curiously.

"I mean, deities were born from human needs and wishes. When they prayed for more and more, their reverse cursed energy condensed to form a being that could help those wishes come true." Gojo Satoru interjected. "Its only natural that the deity could eventually gain a conscious of its own and it may choose to go over to the evil side if it wants to."

"So we defeated something that high and mighty today?" She asked in surprise.

"No, you both didn't defeat it. That deity is one that can travel through time. It doesn't have any violent or flashy cursed techniques, but its abilities are the most dangerous of all. It can travel back in time to erase the future of its targets." He announced, causing (y/n) to clench her fingers into a fist. "If his cursed energy touched you even once, he can go ten years into your past and kill you. That will erase your present and future."

She was slightly stressed while Gojo had a bored expression on his face. "Mr. Ijichi reported that you shook hands with the curse as a joke. How can you be so careless, Satoru?!" His voice thundered in the office and (y/n) immediately took the opportunity to throw oil into the fire.

"When I was struggling during the fight, Satoru was showing off how he could shake hands with the curse and make a fool out of it." She complained.

"Thanks to your recklessness, the curse has access to both of your lives when you were 18 and 19 years old." He informed. "But thankfully, the curse travels really slow in time, so we have a chance to save you. Both of you will have to go on a mission to prevent the worst from occurring. Principal Gakuganji will arrive today evening from Kyoto. Apparently, his sorcerer acquaintance knows a way to temporarily travel into the past. If you can exorcise the curse in time travel, it will disappear from the past. You can then try to seal it. Unfortunately, there's no way to exorcise it." He explained while (y/n) and Satoru exchanged glances.

---

A couple of hours later, (y/n) had given up on being frustrated with Gojo Satoru's antics. All her aggression melted away when he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her close and begged her to forgive him.

(y/n) now sat comfortably on his lap, in his bed, as he peppered her neck with kisses. Her eyes were closed, fingers clutching his shirt. "Satoru, are we really going to go into the past? Isn't that dangerous?" She asked innocently.

"Hm, it is." Gojo replied as his hands guided her by her waist so she could turn around to straddle him. He reached to undo the first few buttons of her shirt and ran his fingers on the smooth skin over her collarbones. "Apparently, we have to go back and protect each other from the curse."

(y/n)'s eyebrows furrowed. "Each other-?" A sweet little sound escaped her lips mid sentence as his fingers traced the shape of her clothed breasts through her shirt.

"Yeah, we can't meet our own past self because that would be like meeting an apparition of ourself. One of us could then disappear from the world." He explained.

"What? I don't get it." She looked at him blankly. Gojo Satoru raised his hand to softly run his thumb against her cheek.

"Doppelganger, you dumb bitch."

She smacked him for the second time that day. "I'm leaving-" She started getting out of his hold, but Gojo pulled her right back towards him.

"Okay I'm sorry, I won't be mean." He said as he tightened his grip around her waist. "Yaga-sensei said that since the curse used to be a deity in the past, it may still have divine powers. It may have adapted to my current cursed techniques. I hadn't mastered Hollow Purple or Reverse Cursed Technique back when I was still 18, so killing him becomes a possibility. If he dies, I might also dis-" Gojo Satoru didn't get to complete his sentence. In a matter of seconds, (y/n) had captured his lips with her own. Her eyes were closed, hands pulling him by the collar of his white shirt.

"That's not going to happen!" She exclaimed. "Even if you think I'm a loser and even if you think my cursed technique doesn't compare to your own, I'm a Grade 1 sorcerer. I'll never let something like that happen!" Her strong resolve paired with her cute voice made Gojo Satoru chuckle in response.

"I was a Special Grade sorcerer at 18-"

"Doesn't fucking matter." She replied. "I'll protect you Satoru, do you not trust me?!"

"Not really-"

"I'll exorcise that curse or deity or whatever and I'll bring its head back." Gojo couldn't help but kiss her face affectionately. "You're not taking me seriously, are you?" She asked him, clearly offended.

"Of course I am." The undone buttons of her shirt made it easier for him to slide it downward. He gently placed a kiss on her exposed shoulder. "Its just one day, but somehow, I don't feel like leaving. It feels like I might not see you for a long time." Gojo Satoru said, almost like he felt lonely. His fingers swiftly got the shirt out of his way, leaving (y/n) in just her bra. Oh, how he wanted to get that nuisance of a bra out of his way so he could worship her pretty pair of breasts. "I love you so much." He whispered. You're my sweet and my perfect little sl-"

But then, (y/n) had something absolutely different on her mind as she held his wrist to stop him. "We should strategize, Satoru. If we can defeat the curse early, we'll be back within a day or two." She said and got out of Gojo Satoru's hold, causing him to pout like a little kid. She headed over to his desk and grabbed a notebook to trace out her plan.

Almost immediately, a mischievous smile appeared on Gojo Satoru's lips. "Wait, I'll get to meet you from when you were 19 years old." He started.

"Eh? So?"

"I've only known you for the past two years from when you were 27, I can't imagine what you were like back then. Were you the same, bitchy and loud, like you are now?" He asked, causing her to throw a pencil on him, which he easily stopped using Limitless. "Or were you like, cute and innocent back then? At what age did you have your first kiss?" He asked.

"Satoru, you're not allowed to do anything funny. I'll annihilate you when you come back." She warned.

"Use your hands to kill me instead, its sexier. I don't wanna die by your loser cursed technique," Gojo Satoru immediately earned three more smacks on his head. He retaliated and as usual, they began to scuffle, (y/n) still wearing only her bra. Gojo Satoru loved doing things to get a reaction out of her and he loved how she fell for it every time.

~• Chapter 2 ~•

Gojo Satoru

"Thank you so much for saving me earlier." 19 year old (y/n) bowed down in gratitude, but when her head raised up, she gave the man a stern look. "However, please stop following me. I will report you to the police." She warned politely. The man wearing the blindfold didn't respond.

As soon as Gojo Satoru had arrived in the past, he sought all the information about (y/n)'s family and her current whereabouts. He was extremely lucky to have found her just in time to save her when the curse pushed her in front of the train. If needed, Gojo Satoru was willing to crush the entire train using his Limitless cursed technique to save (y/n).

The thing was, Gojo Satoru didn't know when the curse would appear and try to attack her. He had to be with her at all times, but doing that discreetly was no fun. He had a chance to meet (y/n) from a time before he knew her. A version of his cute girlfriend that he had never seen. How could he spend all that time in hiding?

"I'm a Special Grade sorcerer." He bragged.

"I'm not interested in becoming a sorcerer like my parents, so leave me alone. I don't want to get involved in your world." (y/n) replied, worry evident on her face. There was a sense of urgency in the way she said it, almost like she wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.

Gojo Satoru felt slightly offended. Am I repulsive? He watched as she turned her back on him and walked away. He felt a little disappointed. The (y/n) he knew was loud and irritable, she laughed a lot and cried just as easily, she cared too much about what's fair and what isn't, she hugged him tightly and always responded to jokes with violence. She had always been so warm and lovable. That's why when she treated him like he was a stranger, Gojo Satoru couldn't help but feel hurt.

He wasn't going to leave (y/n) alone, since the curse could use any opportunity to kill her and consequently, the 29 year old (y/n) would disappear. Gojo Satoru called the Kyoto Jujutsu High office and requested them to arrange a meeting with Principal Gakuganji that evening. He then approached (y/n) while she was currently on the phone with her best friend.

"I'm so sorry, (bff/n). I know you've been waiting for long, I'll be there in-" Gojo Satoru abruptly took the phone from her hand and placed it beside his ear.

"(y/n) can't make it, she's so sorry, she'll be leaving for Kyoto today." Gojo Satoru said in the most cheerful tone and disconnected the call.

"What the hell-" She protested and stood on her toes to reach for her phone, but Gojo Satoru was built like a tree. He raised his hand to keep the phone out of her reach and placed two fingers on her forehead.

(y/n) didn't remember much of what happened after. She blacked out.

______________

(y/n) woke up to the sound of someone typing away on the keyboard. Sitting up on the bed, she saw the same man sitting before a study table in the corner. Despite having his strange blindfold on, she wondered how he was seeing anything on the monitor he faced.

Then she recalled his words from this afternoon. I'm your boyfriend from ten years in the future. Was he really? That sounded so ridiculous to even think about.

(y/n) soundlessly got out of bed and tiptoed towards the door until-

"(y/n) apart from basic necessities like your clothes and toothbrush and stuff, is there anything else you want?" He suddenly asked.

"Huh?" Everything he said was so confusing.

"I'm just ordering some essentials. I don't know how long we might have to stay at Kyoto Jujutsu High to keep you protected." He informed.

"Did you just say Kyoto?" She asked in horror. "Is this another lowly attempt of my parents to make me a Jujutsu Sorcerer?" Her fingers clenched into a fist and she headed towards the door.

"No, although I informed your family about this, I'm not here for something silly like that. You're in danger and I'm here to protect you." He started. "A curse from 2017 came all the way to the current timeline so he can kill you. Do you understand that? We don't know when he'll arrive or how he'll attack, that's why I brought you here to Kyoto. The barrier will keep you safe inside the Jujutsu High School." Gojo Satoru's explanation only made half sense to her, but for the moment, it was sufficient to make (y/n) shut up. It was a lot to process.

"So, you're here from the future to exorcise a curse?" She asked innocently.

"Yeah, mainly to protect you." He smiled. "Like a bodyguard?" He looked at her in a way that caused (y/n) to avert her gaze. Almost like he paid too much attention to her.

"What did you mean earlier when you said you're... my boyfriend?" (y/n) asked as she avoided eye contact with him and fidgeted with the fabric of the sheets.

"Are you curious?" Gojo Satoru grinned. "We met in 2015 when you transferred to Tokyo Jujutsu High and we started dating the next year. You're actually one year older than me."

(y/n) narrowed her eyes at him. "Just because you're from Jujutsu High, I'm not going to believe everything you say. You could totally be lying about this." Pulling herself out of the bed, (y/n) went outside to confirm the information Gojo Satoru gave her. Talking to the assistants at the Kyoto Jujutsu High, she realised that this man wasn't lying about protecting her from a curse.

"Did you have lunch yet, (y/n)?" Gojo Satoru's concerned voice sounded strangely irritating to her. However, the truth was that (y/n) was going to meet her friend for lunch. Her stomach was rumbling due to lack of food.

"Not yet." She meekly replied and looked away. Gojo Satoru smiled and led her to the dining area of the Kyoto Jujutsu High.

As food was served, she couldn't help but wonder how important this Gojo Satoru guy could've been. Why was he receiving special treatment in the lair of someone as scheming and annoying as principal Gakuganji. She knew about the power hierarchy in the Jujutsu world from her parents. It was a major reason why (y/n) wanted to stay out of the system and never become a sorcerer.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Gojo Satoru asked. (y/n) was sitting across him in the dining area, warm food placed in front of her. Her fingers toyed with the spoon as she observed him.

"I would never date a shady man that wears a creepy-ass blindfold." (y/n) said, causing Gojo to choke on the soup. He was caught off-guard and started coughing.

When he composed himself a bit, he realised how it was only (y/n) who could surprise him like this with her words. He could read people so easily and (y/n) was no exception. He knew what she was thinking and feeling, yet her words and actions were so unpredictable. Despite being a Grade 1 sorcerer, she always had an attitude that even rivaled Special Grades. That's what made her so different and interesting to him.

Gojo Satoru looked at the 19-year-old (y/n) in front of him. He was definitely going to win her over in this timeline too. "This blindfold is to cover my six eyes. Otherwise, my eyes take in too much unnecessary information, it's annoying." He said before bringing another spoonful of rice to his mouth.

"Six eyes?" She asked curiously. "So you're that Gojo kid." As a child, (y/n) often heard close relatives discuss about the prodigy child of the Gojo clan. The one who had inherited the six eyes and Limitless cursed technique. It was difficult to believe he would become her boyfriend in the future. "Isn't there a Gojo Satoru in my world as well? He would be around my age. Are you going to meet him too?" (y/n) asked, causing Gojo Satoru to pause and wonder.

"Hm, it might create a doppelganger type effect and he might think I'm a threat and try to attack me, I don't know." Gojo Satoru replied. "The current Gojo Satoru is one year younger than you so he'd be around 18. I can't interfere too much with the past so I'm going to avoid meeting him." Gojo smiled, but (y/n) could only look at the table, still trying to process everything this man told her.

"Did I stress you out too much by telling you these things?" Gojo Satoru asked.

(y/n) shook her head. "I'm not stressed. I'm just trying to make sense of everything you told me. How long will I have to stay here?" She asked.

"Until I defeat and seal the curse. It shouldn't take more than a day or two. Finding it is more of a problem than sealing it." He said.

After the meal, Gojo Satoru headed out with another sorcerer to discuss how they can locate the curse. (y/n) was left alone as there were only two other students in Kyoto Jujutsu Tech; Utahime and Mei Mei, both of who had been out on a mission for more than a week. There really was nobody to talk to and nothing else to do.

Before leaving, Gojo Satoru had placed both his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "The barrier in the Kyoto Jujutsu Tech campus will prevent any curse from getting in. I want you to stay here and not leave until I get back, okay?" He had said. (y/n) only nodded in response, left with no alternative choice.

She didn't realise when she had fallen asleep that afternoon. (y/n) woke up to her phone ringing repeatedly late in the evening. There were 15 missed calls from her best friend's mom. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she called her back.

"(y/n)," Her best friend's mom sobbed when she picked up the phone. "(bff/n) went out to meet you, but she never got home. When I tried calling her, a nurse picked up her phone. She got into an accident and is currently in the hospital." She sounded really distressed and had probably been crying for a really long time.

"W-What hospital? I'll leave immediately." (y/n) said, her voice shaky. It was too sudden. She had only talked to her friend over the phone this afternoon. How did this happen in such a short span of time?

At that time, the thought of contacting Gojo Satoru didn't even cross her mind. (y/n) just grabbed her jacket and her wallet before dashing outside to the train station. She had to get to the hospital as fast as possible to see her best friend's current condition.

It was around 8:30 pm. (y/n) walked as quickly as possible in the cold to reach the train station. It hadn't even been a few minutes since she had left and halfway through, a black smoke emerged from a gap in the walls. It looked really suspicious, so she stopped and took a few steps back. Before she could decide what to do next, the smoke wrapped around her ankle and exerted force to pull her towards the building. As she fell to the ground, it dragged her against the asphalt, scraping her legs in the process. (y/n) screamed and held on to a car parked nearby to prevent being dragged along any further. After a few seconds of resilience, the car started getting dragged along with (y/n). The curse was powerful enough to move a car along with it.

(y/n) shut her eyes tightly, holding on for dear life. "Gojo!" She screamed. There was no trace of anyone that could help her in that situation. "Let go!" She shouted at the curse, tears forming in her eyes. If the smoke was so powerful, it could just slam her against the wall and her skull would split open. She would have to do something to save herself.

(y/n)'s parents had forced her to go through Jujutsu training as a kid, but she had rebelled and quit sorcery four years ago. However, she hadn't completely let go of her cursed technique yet. Before (y/n) could do anything the smoke disappeared leaving her injured on the ground, still holding on to the car.

"Fucking coward." She heard Gojo Satoru's voice behind her. So that's why the curse fled immediately. "Can you stand up?" He asked and extended his hand. Her fingers were shaky as she reached for his hand. In that sense, Gojo Satoru was very perceptive. He didn't waste another minute and slipped an arm under her knees and the other around her shoulder to lift her off the ground. (y/n) was still disoriented due to the sudden attack, so without protesting, she just closed her eyes tightly as the surroundings started warping into different colours. He hadn't even walked one step, yet (y/n) was now in her room at the Kyoto Jujutsu School. Was that teleportation?

Gojo Satoru gently put her down on the bed and went outside the room. When he came back, there was a first-aid kit in his hands. She looked at her legs that were scraped like she had just gotten into a road accident. Gojo Satoru poured rubbing alcohol on cotton and used it to clean the wound that was covered in a mix of dirt and blood. He didn't look at her face even once, his eyes were only focused on cleaning up the wounds.

"Is he angry...?" She wondered. "Gojo, I was-"

"Why did you leave the barrier?" He asked without looking up. "I specifically asked you not to. Why were you so reckless?" Gojo Satoru's voice was so calm, it actually scared her a little bit.

"I got a phone call. My best friend got into an accident and her mom called me around 15 times. I wanted to go to the hospital and see her." (y/n) explained, reaching for her phone and fiddling with the screen to show him the missed calls. However, they weren't there. She didn't have any missed calls from anyone. "Eh? It was right here, I swear." She checked it repeatedly, but the call log was empty.

Gojo Satoru patted her head. " I know you're not lying." He said kindly. "The curse must've pulled a stunt, they're notorious for doing things like this. So, I believe you (y/n)-chan." When he said that, she looked at him, worry still etched on her face.

"Y-You're not mad I left?" She asked.

"I definitely am. If I didn't arrive in time, the curse would've killed you instantly. I don't want to go back to a future without (y/n), so I need you to be more careful. If you received a call like that, you should've called me instead of leaving the barrier." He said, making her look down at the ground. Everything he said made her heart flutter a bit. Was such a sweet and loving person really her boyfriend in the future? It sounded so unreal.

Gojo Satoru ran his fingers through her hair to fix it a bit. She looked down, refusing to look at him. "I'm sorry." She said quietly. He chuckled in response. The (y/n) he knew would rather die than timidly apologize to him for something that wasn't really her fault. Gojo Satoru ran his thumb against (y/n)'s cheek and smiled warmly.

"You're so sweet, I almost don't want to forgive you."

~• Chapter 3•~

(y/n)

When 29 year old (y/n) time travelled to go back from 2017 to 2007, she had made sure to prepare herself ahead of time. Refusing her boyfriend Gojo Satoru's offer to make out in his bed was sad enough, but hopefully, it would pay off when (y/n) would defeat the curse and go back to him relieved of all worries.

Yaga Masamichi had instructed both of them to report to the Principal at Kyoto Jujutsu School as he was the one coordinating this mission along with the sorcerer skilled in time travel. So, (y/n) decided to start with reaching out to them first.

(y/n) hadn't slept a wink since the previous night. When she heard of how the curse may be able to outsmart a younger Gojo Satoru and adapt to his Limitless Cursed Technique, (y/n) couldn't sit still. She spent all night buried in books, trying to understand the best way to outsmart a Special Grade curse. Being a Grade 1 sorcerer herself, (y/n) was not really qualified to fight a Special Grade curse. Yaga Masamichi and Gojo Satoru had only agreed to send her so she could warn the younger Gojo Satoru ahead of time and help him and the other sorcerers exorcise the curse.

(y/n)'s cursed technique was really average in comparison to that of her colleagues. Even getting as far as a Grade 1 rank was difficult enough for her and had only been possible because of her intelligence and hardworking nature. While Gojo Satoru figured out his opponent during the fight, (y/n)'s battle against the curse began well in advance. She always gathered as much information as possible and developed a strategy before entering a battle. This method worked well for her during missions, but surprise attacks by a curse was always a nightmare for (y/n).

She explained the situation to the principal of Kyoto Jujutsu High who surprisingly, seemed to be aware of it already. His acquaintance, the sorcerer who had the ability to time travel, already received information about her arrival in advance.

"I already told Yaga to send his students, so you can discuss this with them." He told, causing her to sigh in relief.

Unlike Gojo, (y/n) was not particularly excited about this mission. She sat on a bench in the garden of the school and opened the notebook she brought along. Special Grade curses already made her anxious enough and this one was an ancient deity with a cursed technique that far outranked her own. (y/n) flipped through her notes.

"Locating the curse is going to be such a dreary task..." She said to herself and leaned back in the bench. "We can start by detecting trace particles of cursed energy..." The bench was so uncomfortable and (y/n)'s head wanted a place to rest. Her room in the Kyoto Jujutsu High felt too far away, so (y/n) just placed the notebook on her face and fell asleep on the bench outside.

"Is that her? Should we wake her up?"

"No, let's come back later."

"Just wake her up, we'll ask her about the mission."

"You do it."

(y/n)'s eyes fluttered open as she heard two familiar voices. One of them definitely belonged to Gojo and the other was strangely familiar too. She slowly sat up, causing the two boys to exchange glances.

"Gojo Satoru and..." (y/n) was surprised at what she saw. "Geto Suguru?" She hadn't been warned about this. Only last year she had fought alongside the other sorcerers against an ex-Jujutsu High student. That was Geto Suguru. The fight was inconclusive and they made a truce of mutual non-aggression with him. She couldn't believe she had to work with him to defeat this curse.

"Are you sure she's not just dumb?" That was Gojo Satoru. (y/n) had just realised that her boyfriend at the age of 28 was twenty-five times less meaner than his 18 year old self.

"Satoru!" Geto smacked his head and gave an apologetic smile to (y/n). "I'm sorry, we were flown in to Kyoto at such short notice for a mission they didn't really explain to us. He's just really annoyed." He politely explained and (y/n) nodded in understanding.

"I specifically called in for Gojo Satoru and a skilled Special Grade sorcerer to accompany him." (y/n) started as she sat up.

"Suguru isn't here to accompany me." Satoru said, irritation colouring his voice.

"Yes, he's here to make sure you don't die fighting with your current methods." (y/n) retorted, causing Gojo Satoru's eyebrows to knit in confusion. "I'm a Grade 1 sorcerer from 2017 and I've been sent to help you guys defeat a curse that time-travelled all the way here to kill Gojo Satoru." (y/n) explained. Without giving them a chance to continue, she went on. "...and before you tell me about how strong you are and how amazing your cursed technique is, let me tell you, the curse already fought you once and has probably now adopted itself to your Limitless cursed technique. That means it can get through your Limitless barrier and it's attacks can actually reach you. Do you understand, Satoru? You need to stop being so reckless. We're in this situation because you acted cocky in a fight against this curse." (y/n) said in frustration while the two boys just looked at her stunned.

"Satoru, looks like you created a mess in the future." Geto Suguru whispered.

"Eh? How is this my fault?" Gojo Satoru whined before his eyebrows perked up. "One second, did you just call me Satoru?" He asked (y/n) suspiciously.

"Uh, what, no, we're not that close. I said Gojo Satoru." (y/n) said, in an attempt to cover up what she had done. Before arriving in 2007, (y/n) had promised herself to not reveal the nature of their relationship to Gojo Satoru. She didn't want to complicate things and also just found it a bit inappropriate considering their age gap.

"Satoru, let it go." Geto managed to control his friend and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "There's a meeting room inside. Would you like to go in and discuss this mission?" He kindly offered and (y/n) accepted before heading inside with them.

As (y/n) sat down across Gojo Satoru, she couldn't help but notice how the school uniform looked so different on him. He looked younger and his glasses made him look stupider than the blindfold he usually wore. His words and actions were also way more annoying and childish than what she was normally used to.

"So, our first goal should be locating this curse. I was told that finding it is going to be more difficult than anything else." She started as she opened her notes for reference. "Also, the curse is notorious for surprise attacks. We need to be really careful-"

Gojo Satoru grinned. "Are those notes? She's like a middle school girl, it's so funny." He earned another smack from Geto Suguru as he said that. (y/n) recalled how Gojo had made fun of her for exactly the same thing when they were first assigned to a mission together two years ago. She was supposed to assist him and learn from his methods, but the truth was that Gojo Satoru wasn't accustomed to prior planning. He didn't have the need to do that. He just entered the battle on a whim and defeated the curse effortlessly. She remembered bickering with him about the same thing and how he had made jokes about her use of notes and reference books to navigate a fight.

"Do you have a problem with me?" She asked the 18 year old Gojo Satoru sitting in front of her.

"No, Gojo is a bitch to every cute girl he meets." A laidback voice emerged from the doorway, causing (y/n) to smile and turn around.

"Shoko!" She said and only smiled wider upon seeing her. "...and you have short hair. It looks so cute on you." (y/n) said, causing Shoko to exchange confused glances with her classmates.

"You know me?" Shoko asked as she took a seat beside (y/n).

"She's from 2017 and apparently she knows all of us." Geto explained causing Shoko's surprise to turn into amusement.

"Then can you tell us about the future? Do I get a hot boyfriend by then? " Shoko asked and (y/n) only replied with a strained smile.

"I've been asked to not share any information about the future with you all. Plus, you'll anyway forget everything once I leave." (y/n) started. "Once the curse is defeated, it'll almost be like none of this ever happened. You'll forget me and that I ever came here. We'll only meet in 2015 then, how we originally met." She smiled.

"So are you our friend in the future?" Geto Suguru asked. Now, (y/n) didn't want to lie to him, but she also didn't have the heart to tell him that he defected from Jujutsu High at some point and had become their opponent by the time she met him in the future. So, she only smiled and smiled in response.

After charting out a plan to locate the curse, they decided to look for it by detecting trace particles of it's cursed energy. They divided themselves into pairs, with one Special Grade sorcerer in each pair. (y/n) was paired with Gojo, both of who groaned upon hearing that.

"I'm the older one. I must act mature." (y/n) told herself as she walked alongside Gojo Satoru, stealing glances of him occassionally. He was the exact same person 10 years into the past as well. It hadn't even been a day, but looking at the 18 year old Gojo made her miss her boyfriend so much. "I hope he's safe." (y/n) thought to herself.

"The curse didn't come here, there are no trace particles of cursed energy at any of the places we visited." Gojo Satoru said as he leaned against the wall. "Does this curse even exist?" He took a sip of the orange juice he had just bought from a vending machine nearby.

"Yes, it does." (y/n) looked at her notes. "I read in the archives and battle records that deity-turned-curses love to prey on anxiety. They create stressful and frightening situations before devouring their victims." She explained.

"It doesn't matter. Suguru and I are the strongest. Bring any curse and we'll devour it instead." Gojo Satoru said with a smug expression, followed by (y/n) rolling her eyes in response.

"I've heard that line a thousand times, please shut up and focus on the mission at hand. Everyone knows you're strong. I wouldn't be sent here if you could handle this on your own." (y/n) tried to hammer some practical thinking into Gojo Satoru's head. "You needed a heads-up for this."

"Hm, I'm just wondering what kind of an attack-" As Gojo Satoru took another sip of his orange juice, (y/n) suddenly pounced on him, making both of them fall to the ground as a beam of hot lava slammed against the wall. The paint and concrete on the wall melted and disappeared, giving a clear view of the half-destroyed bricks inside the wall.

"That was close." (y/n) let out a sigh of relief and turned to look at the curse. Some of the lava had splashed on to Gojo Satoru's shirt, leaving burn marks on it. "Look, Satoru, the cursed energy got through Infinity." She said, still on top of Gojo Satoru, trapping him with both her arms on the ground.

"You worry too much." Gojo Satoru said as he sat up and effortlessly lifted (y/n) off him by her waist. It reminded her of Satoru, her boyfriend, and how his rough hands had gripped her waist last night. It was the same person, yet the Gojo Satoru in front of her had eyes that held no recognition of her. The hands that knew exactly how (y/n) liked to be held felt so different.

When Geto's Rainbow Dragon arrived to assist them in battle, the curse decided to flee and wait for the next opportunity to strike. "Ah, running away is the only thing it's good for." (y/n) commented as she collapsed on the ground. When she looked up, Gojo was looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"Are we late?" Geto asked as he arrived with Shoko tagging along. As soon as he saw Gojo standing and shooting looks of suspicion towards (y/n) on the ground, he scratched his head a bit. "Is everything okay...?" He asked.

(y/n)'s wounds were given first aid and all the four sorcerers had assembled at the cafeteria. Gojo Satoru still didn't stop his suspicious glances towards her.

"What?" (y/n) asked, frustrated.

"You did it again." Gojo accused, causing Geto to look up from his strawberry milk carton. "You called me Satoru during the battle." He said.

"Bro seriously, let it go now." Geto commented as Shoko also looked at them curiously.

"I will let it go when she tells me everything." Gojo Satoru said, causing (y/n) to avoid meeting his gaze. "There's more to this curse isn't it? You didn't just come here to give us a heads up, did you?" He asked.

I came here to protect you because you're my boyfriend, just wasn't an easy thing for (y/n) to say to him. It was embarrassing and just felt too uncomfortable to say. So she just remained quiet and took a bite of her snack bar. Geto and Shoko had also lost interest in the matter while Gojo was just restless with nothing else to say.

"(y/n) try this chocolate cookie, it's delicious." Shoko offered extending the cookie towards (y/n)'s mouth.

"Thank you, Shoko!" (y/n) beamed and leaned forward. As she took a bite of the treat, a little pendant with the letter 'S' on a small heart slipped out of her shirt.

"Cute pendant." Shoko commented.

It was an expensive Platinum pendant that (y/n) received as a gift from Gojo on her 28th birthday. She was quite fond of it. Unconsciously, (y/n) held on to it and grinned. She was so used to showing it off to everyone that on instinct, the words slipped out. "Thanks, my boyfriend gave it to me." She said.

The trio became very curious as they exchanged hesitant glances. "I hate to say anything, but..." Shoko started.

"The lesser you tell us, the wilder our conclusions will get.. you know.." Geto said, causing (y/n) to freeze. Funnily enough, Satoru, Suguru and Shoko all names started with an 'S', yet the word boyfriend had narrowed things down a bit.

"H-His name is Sebastian!" (y/n) blurted out the first name that came to her mind and that happened to be her favourite anime character.

"Eh? You have a foreigner boyfriend?" Shoko asked, causing (y/n) to nod desperately.

"Yeah, I met him when I went to America two years ago." (y/n) lied. The truth was that she had never even travelled to a foreign country before.

"You both got excited for no reason." Shoko chuckled, causing Geto to turn away in embarassment.

"I call bullshit. She probably doesn't even speak English. (we're just going to pretend they're speaking in Japanese yay)" Gojo Satoru said, causing (y/n) to glare at him.

"Of course I do." (y/n) was building a tower of lies that would bury her deeply in the rubble if it collapsed anytime soon.

~• Chapter 4 •~

Gojo Satoru

"You're so sweet, I almost don't want to forgive you." Gojo smiled, causing (y/n) to look at him in confusion. She was making expressions he rarely got to see in his girlfriend.

Back in 2015, when Gojo met (y/n) for the first time, he was just disappointed in the new sorcerer that was going to join his team. He didn't share his opinion with anyone, but he thought that at least a Special Grade sorcerer could help him train those students who had potential to become Special Grades in the future. However, he had to make do with a Grade 1 for now.

(y/n) was assigned to several missions with him and her methods were so tiring. (y/n)'s cursed technique was not very special either, it was on the same level as Mai and she was poor at close combat. A few weeks before their first mission together, he saw (y/n) head to the archives library of their school. It was an old building and the last he had stepped inside was almost 10 years ago with Suguru. He would see her go there everyday with a notebook in her hand and to Gojo Satoru, that was honestly just pitiful. It was like donkey work to somehow make up for her lack of competence. However, Gojo Satoru was not mean to others, openly atleast, so he remained quiet.

On their first joint mission, Gojo Satoru did most of the work while (y/n)'s attacks felt more unique and less effective. With a snap of his finger, the battle was over.

"Hey I'm sorry to say this, but we're gonna have to replace you. The students need a Special Grade teacher more than anything. The Grade of battles keep going higher and you just don't cut it." Gojo Satoru said, yet (y/n) didn't even have a hint of shame or guilt on her face. He couldn't believe someone so incompetent and weak carried that much pride in themself.

"And I'm sorry to say this, but I can't be assigned to missions with you. There's no way I'm getting any promotions if you're gonna shadow all my work like that." (y/n) said, causing Gojo Satoru to raise an eyebrow.

"Oh really? You couldn't use your impressive skills because I defeated the curse too early? Well, there's another curse just 15 km away. Would you like to-" Gojo Satoru was interrupted by (y/n) who shook her head.

"No, I need time. Give me three more days and I'll defeat the next curse by myself." She said, causing Gojo to roll his eyes.

"It's a Special Grade."

"I've defeated them before. It won't be an issue. See you later." (y/n) said and started heading towards the train station.

"Ijichi will be here to pick us up, where are you going?"

"I need to get some work done, you go ahead."

After (y/n) left Gojo Satoru felt a little guilty, but that only lasted like 10 seconds. "We can't have a incapable sorcerer teaching students to fight curses in a city. It won't help them improve at all." Then he wondered how Yaga-sensei even employed someone like that without testing their abilities first.

In the three days that (y/n) had asked of Gojo, he saw her spend most of her day in that dusty archives library. Mei Mei had visited the Tokyo Jujutsu school on official business and he even noticed how (y/n) had a meeting with her and preferred her advice over his own. Clearly, Mei Mei wasn't a Special Grade either so it made sense for them to discuss battle strategies.

When the day of the battle arrived, (y/n) was full of confidence in her eyes. The battle that Gojo Satoru could've ended in five minutes, (y/n) took around half an hour. (y/n)'s key strength was her knowledge of the curse, it's weaknesses, what type of attacks were likely to cause the most damage, she knew the curse inside out. All that knowledge made up for her lack of a fancy cursed technique.

Bloodied and battered (y/n) dealt a finishing blow to the Special Grade and collapsed on her knees. She didn't look back at Gojo Satoru once, (y/n) stood up with shaky legs and reached for her phone in her pocket. "Ah, it's broken, should've left it in the car."

"Uh.." Gojo Satoru started, causing (y/n) to turn around. "I.. take back what I said that day. You.. You're approved to teach at Tokyo Jujutsu school." He said, but (y/n) just blinked, then went back to looking at her broken phone.

"Isn't that obvious? I was approved the day I was employed here. I just don't understand why they would assign us a mission together. You're so disgustingly strong, you should clearly be given solo missions." She said and Gojo took a few seconds to process whether she was insulting him or complimenting him. "Are you hungry?" She asked him and Gojo could only follow her like a puppy.

(y/n) was so confident in herself and never yielded to anything. The whole reason why she was transferred from the Kyoto Jujutsu school was because she constantly raised her voice against the underhanded methods used by principal Gakuganji and the corrupt school administration. At this point, even the students had started to ignore her, but Gojo Satoru was satisfied to know that there were others who felt the same way as him about the higher authorities controlling Jujutsu society.

That is why when 19 year old (y/n) just apologised straight away, Gojo Satoru couldn't help but laugh. "Eh? Why are you laughing?" She asked innocently, causing him to gently brush her hair away from her face.

"I'm kind of thankful to this curse." Gojo Satoru said and (y/n) looked at him in confusion. She pointed at her injured legs and he laughed and shook his head. "Not for that. I just don't think I would've had a chance to know you like this if I hadn't come back." He said and (y/n) tilted her head to the side.

"I don't understand a lot of things you say. I still don't believe you're... my.. boyfriend." She looked away.

"Why? Are you disappointed? Am I not what you imagined your ideal boyfriend to be like? I'm not hot enough?" Gojo Satoru asked, just to get a reaction out of her.

"It's not like that... You're actually very h-" (y/n) said, then realised what Gojo was trying to get her to say and she immediately stopped herself. Gojo Satoru only chuckled in response.

"Do you feel better now?" Gojo asked, causing (y/n) to nod. "Were you scared earlier?" He asked and memories of being helplessly dragged away by the curse came back to (y/n).

"Yeah, I really thought I was... gonna die." She said softly and looked down. So honest. Gojo Satoru had never known (y/n) to be so open and vulnerable without him having to persist.

"Then come here." He said and pulled (y/n) on his lap. She looked back at him in surprise and embarrassment. "I'll protect you." Gojo Satoru wrapped his arms around (y/n) who didn't protest even a little. It felt so warm and safe to be held by Gojo and (y/n) just wanted to believe everything he told her, even if it all sounded like lies. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

When Gojo pulled back to look at her face, he realised how bad he wanted to kiss her. Memories of his first kiss with (y/n) came back in a flash. The night Gojo had just returned from a wedding of his distant relative. He was out all day and extremely tired as he stepped inside the campus. He took off his coat, loosened his tie and just sat on a bench in the garden. He used his arm to cover his face and rested his head against the back rest. Gojo didn't wear his blindfold to formal events like weddings, yet his eyes were still covered by his hands.

He felt her cursed energy before he heard her footsteps head towards him with a purpose. "Gojo! Why does this say you've taken back my application to become a Special Grade sorcerer?!" (y/n) asked pulling his tie to wake him up.

"Hmm?" Gojo lazily opened his eyes to find (y/n) in a yellow skirt and a white summer tank top. She looked so cute with her hair tied up into a bun and as always, she had something sharp to say to him.

She showed him the withdrawal document and placed one hand on her hip. "How dare you?" She started. "How can you withdraw my application without asking me?"

"You aren't qualified to be a Special Grade sorcerer." He said, then went back to placing his arm over his eyes.

"You don't get to decide that!" (y/n) yelled, earning no response from him. "And you have the audacity to sleep?" She shook his head. "Wake up, Gojo!" She shook him harshly, causing Gojo to open his eyes. He pulled her towards him on the bench.

"Special Grade sorcerers are always given the worst missions and I've lost countless friends to a stupid title like that. Stop chasing it, please." He said and (y/n) just had nothing to say to him. "Do you know why Mei-san is still a Grade 1 sorcerer? With her current abilities, she could easily pass for a Special Grade, yet she just stopped trying. It's because she's selfish. Can't you be like that too?"

"Gojo..." (y/n) looked at him, her anger now replaced with worry and sadness. "That's still not your decision to make..."

"Satoru."

"Huh?"

"Don't call me Gojo, you should call me Satoru."

"You act like a kid." (y/n) sighed. "Being a Special Grade sorcerer will help me become stronger in the future. The tougher battles I face, the stronger I'll get over time."

"You want a strong opponent? Fight me all you like. I won't go easy on you. I'm the strongest you'll ever encounter." He said desperately and pulled her to sit on his lap. (y/n) and Gojo were interested in each other from a long time, but it was only that day Gojo had put aside all his inhibitions and acted on his desire.

Looking at the 19 year old (y/n) he remembered how soft her lips were and how gently she kissed him, slow and sensual. "A-Are we going to kiss?" (y/n) whispered causing him to snap out of his thoughts.

He held her tighter and shook his head. "No we're not." He said and thought of how naive (y/n) was ten years ago. She was wiser and a lot more careful when he met her for the first time. He just stayed like that as (y/n) rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Further chapters will be updated soon. Comment if you want to be tagged.

[hees-mine]

𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋. 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟓 (𝐞𝐧𝐝)

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, angst, fluff, crying, age gap, taboo relationship.

Genre: 18+, best friends dad, smut, single dad, minors do not interact!

WC: 3,099k+

⟱⟱⟱

When the early morning came, you were stirred awake by the feeling of heeseung’s palm lightly stroking your side as he placed a few soft pecks on your cheek. “Morning, hee,” you whisper groggily, your eyes still closed with your back facing him.

You scoot into him so he can cover you in his warmth, and he snuggles up to you, pressing his naked chest flush against your back. “Morning, my princess,” he giggles, and you can feel the soft rumble in his chest, making you smile. “Sorry to wake you. Didn’t want you to wake up to an empty bed.” 

You hum, acknowledging him. “What time is it?” 

“5:06, so I need to leave soon,” he mumbles against your neck, tickling you. 

You groan in disapproval, but you know there’s no way he can stay. That being said, you don’t say anything, nor do you make any moves to bid him goodbye because you don’t want him to leave.

“I’ll miss you.” he kissed the back of your neck, his toes playing with yours under the sheer white sheets. “Everything you said to me last night, is that all still true?”

“Of course, hee, you know I never stopped loving you.” You placed your hand over his, which was still resting on your waist.

“Me too, love. Just thought maybe you’d come to your senses the morning after,” he jokes, but you don’t really find it to be amusing.

“Hee…” you squeezed his hand for reassurance. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s hard not to when you fuck up the way I did. I’m surprised you even want to see me, let alone talk to me and make love to me.” his voice drops even lower than it already was, and it made your chest ache the way he was beating himself up. It’s not like he intentionally hurt you.

“You didn’t mess up. Everything you said last night was true, right?” You reversed his question on him.

“Yes, mam, so true,” he hums.

“Then I’d be a fool not to want to see you, talk to you, and make love to you.” You smile and scoot even closer to him, your lower parts pressing together, leaving no space for the other not to say either of you wanted space.

A long sigh escaped his lips as he held you tighter. “Thank you for forgiving me, y/n, and taking me back.” 

“Thank you for explaining yourself and keeping our promise,” you whispered.

“Of course, baby, you know I couldn’t just let you go like that” he kisses the shell of your ear as he rolls his hips into you testing to make sure he wasn’t getting the wrong signal from you and he knew he wasn’t as soon as he heard you moan quietly and grind your ass up against his crotch. “Really, princess?” He teases you. “You need me this early in the morning?” He whispers in your ear, licking the shell of it while he bucks his hips, matching your rhythm with a soft groan. 

“Hee,” you whine, already feeling yourself becoming wet just from his touch. “I need you all the time.”

“Fuck princess, so do I, every fucking second,” he says and closes his eyes, not even trying to hide the effect you had on him while he succumbed to the pleasure, his warm shaft thick and pulsing on the soft flesh of your backside. “We gotta be quick, though, okay?” 

You nod as soon as the words leave his lips, and you don’t care how quick you two have to be. You just need him inside of you right now.

You could feel his precum sticking to your ass as he humped his cock against you repeatedly, his hot breath on your ear getting heavier with every motion. 

He moved his hand from your waist long enough to grip the base of his length and push the head of his cock in you.

“Hmm,” your opening clenched around his shaft, and he slowly pulled out just to push in again, entering you with much more ease, the stretch fueling your each and every desire for him.

Your hot, wet walls guide him in inch by inch until he bottoms out and reaches your cervix.

He reached around you, his hand gripping your breast while he started out slow to feel every dip, curve, and ridge of your pussy; your silky walls squeezed him in all the right places to have him biting on his lip to stop himself from making too much noise. “You always feel so fucking good” he circled your nipple rolling it between his fingers. “I’m so obsessed with you.”

You arched your back at his words. With the new angle, you could feel him pushing even deeper than before, and your toes curled at the sensation of his cock pumping your dripping wet hole.

You placed your hand on the back of his neck, your fingers gripping his soft hair. “Heeseung,” you moan, not as quietly as you would have liked, and he is quick to do something about it.

He took his palm off your right breast and held his thumb in front of your lips. “Suck on it,” he whispered in your ear, and you complied immediately, sucking on his thumb the way you would his cock.

“Atta princess,” he quickens the pace of his hips as beads of sweat form on your bodies. “Fuck, I’m so lucky to have you,” he says out of breath already. “I fucking love you so much.” 

You want to say it back, and he knows it, but the harsh clenching of your walls tells him all he needs to know as his hips meet flush against your ass, and he fills you to the brim with his thick cock over and over.

You can only moan around his thumb, softly swirling your tongue around his digit as you soak his shaft with your creamy wetness, losing your mind to the pleasure.

He pressed his face against your neck, licking and kissing beneath your earlobe as he started to twitch inside you uncontrollably. “I’m really close,” he whimpers softly, his kisses turning wet sloppy, and desperate the longer he strokes deep inside your warm cunt. “Keep quiet, pretty,” he says before withdrawing his thumb from your mouth, his hand traveling between your quivering legs to play with your clit. 

“Oh god, yes heeseung, yes right there, don’t stop,” you say as best as you can, keeping your sounds to a minimum as the heat builds in your lower stomach, and all that’s left is to patiently wait for that inevitable pressure to release throughout your body and disperse into the most intense euphoric sensation you’ve ever felt. “Kiss me.” You turn to him as best as you can, your eyes locking on every last beautiful feature of his face.

His eyes were lidded with arousal, the strands of his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, and his lips were parted as shallow breaths came out, making him the most attractive sight you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

You pulled his head closer by the nape of his neck, your lips messily locking in the first kiss of the morning.

He groaned into your mouth, his tongue immediately swirling with yours as you exchanged saliva and soft moans of pleasure. “C-cumming,” you mumbled into the kiss, your orgasm hitting you hard as your walls spasmed around his veiny pulsating length, and you both weren’t just connected physically but mentally as well as he let himself go, following your lead into bliss.

“Me too.” his words get lost in the messy, heated kiss as you both struggle for air, never parting for even a second until your orgasms fade and you’re filled with every last drop of his love for you.

Heavy breathing fills your bedroom as you stare into each other's eyes, and out of nowhere, you both smile and break out into a fit of giggles as he holds you close. “I love you too,” you tell him since you didn’t get to earlier.

“God, you make me so happy.” he smiles and squeezes your figure, and as much as he was enjoying himself, sadly, this moment would have to come to an end. “I don’t wanna leave you,” he whines jokingly, but you can see his eyes are a little watery.

“Don’t worry,” you whisper, looking back at him. “I’ll text you all day today, and I’ll call you tonight, and maybe if you’re up to it, you can sneak over again.” You smile shyly as he grins at you.

“Okay, princess, sounds like a plan.” he kissed your lips softly and gently pulled out of you. He checked the time again, and you both lay down a little bit longer. “Seven more minutes” 

After the few minutes were up, he peeled himself off you with a lot of protest from your end. “I’m not leaving just yet, princess. I'm just gonna grab some tissue to clean you up with.” You shyly hid under the sheets, and he winked at you, going to the bathroom and grabbing some wet wipes off your counter.

He removed the sheets slowly from your body and began wiping your intimate area. The soft look in his eyes while doing it made you melt, and you couldn’t believe you got so lucky to be with someone like him, and the aftercare was a big plus.

He discards the used wipes in the bin next to your bed, and all you can do is smile at him, not even noticing him rummaging through your drawers until he is handing you a pair of underwear and a shirt. “Here, baby put those on.” You do as he says while he dresses himself as well.

Once you both finish, he covers your body with a comforter, tossing the dirty sheet to the side and kissing your forehead before he gets ready to leave. “Love you, my princess. You promise you’ll text me?” He says with a pout, getting all cute on you out of nowhere.

“Promise, hee,” he smiles, leaning down to peck your lips one last time.

“Bye, love. I’ll be waiting for your text.”

“Okay, bye,” you whisper, and the last thing you see is his bright smile before your door closes.

You sigh sadly, but you know he has to go before your parents wake up. Luckily for him, he was able to sneak out of the house quietly, but he was gonna have to get used to this cause he’d definitely be coming over quite often to see you.

-

It was 3:05 when you received a notification on your phone. You were chilling in your bedroom, texting back and forth with heeseung like you promised, and when you heard the chime, your phone made you smile, reaching for the device.

You tapped the power button expecting to see a text from him, but your heart dropped to your stomach when your best friend's name flashed across the screen.

You immediately dropped the phone, and a loud gasp left your lips.

The absolute last thing you were expecting was a text from her, and your mind went to the worst places possible.

Did she find out? 

How does she know?

What is she texting for?

“We need to talk” 

You opened the message, reading the text over and over again, your heart racing in your chest rapidly.

You grip your phone tightly, your thumbs shaking with nerves as you type a reply.

“Sure, what time?” You try to respond as casually as possible.

She replies immediately.

“Now”

You’re so scared you leave the text on read and rummage through your closet, throwing on anything that’s suitable for going out.

You rush downstairs, your mom calling after you, and you say a quick bye before slipping into your shoes and rushing out the door.

Your mind was riddled with the worst thoughts possible, and your legs couldn’t move fast enough to arrive at your ex-best friend's house.

When you finally did, you knocked on the door, balancing on the balls of your feet until the door swung open, revealing your best friend.

Before you can even greet her, she shuts the door after you take a few steps in. “I know,” is all she says, and your world feels like it’s coming to an end.

That means she knew you were still going behind her back and lying to her, plus heeseung was doing the same. You felt terrible.

But you could only imagine it felt much worse for her to be lied to by her father and her best friend. It was the most heart-wrenching betrayal, and you played a big part in it.

You were shaking with nerves, eyes starting to water with tears. “I’m sorry”

You apologize through a sob. You weren’t sorry for being with her dad cause you loved that man with everything, but you were sorry for doing it all behind her back.

The silence is loud as she chews on her lip in thought.

You tried to step forward and hug her, but she moved back, and you felt your knees grow weak. “Please forgive me. I’m so sorry,” you cried, now, wet tears dripping down your cheeks cause you missed her so much.

It takes about another minute of silence before she finally responds. “You’re really sorry?” She asked, looking you dead in the eye.

“So sorry,” you reply hoarsely, wiping your tears with the cuff of your hoodie, only for more to take their place.

“And you love my father?” Her tone is one of questioning, but her voice is calm as if she had already thought long and hard about this before asking to talk with you.

“More than anything in the world,” you whisper quietly.

“Then okay,” she says and smiles afterward, which shocks you completely.

“O-okay? What do you mean, okay?” You reply, confused, your eyebrows furrowed, and you're not so patiently waiting for an explanation.

“Then you two have my approval.” She nodded to herself. Now that the words were coming out, her heart felt lighter, and she knew this was the right thing to do, even if she was a bit uncomfortable with it.

Just as you’re about to respond, Heeseung comes through the door from his shift. “Sweetpea, I’m ho-“ he stops dead in his tracks when he turns around and sees the both of you in his living room.

His face goes pale as he looks between you two. The same thoughts that were running through your head earlier are now running through his, and he tries to do his best to de-escalate the situation once he sees that you have tears in your eyes. “Sweetpea, it’s not what you thi-“

His daughter cuts his words, repeating the same thing she told you. “I know everything, Dad.”

His shoulders slump, and his head drops with disappointment. “I’m sorry,” he mutters with his head down. “I really am. I tried so hard to make things right, but I just couldn’t see a way to do that without going behind your back. You’re the most important girls in my life, and I just wanted you both to be happy after all this time. After the divorce, I wanted to be happy too, but all I did was complicate things, and y/n, I’m sorry for everything.” 

He stared at the ground, his fingers fiddling with the seam of his suit pants. 

It went silent again, but after he felt his daughter wrapping her arms around him, he forgot everything else, dropping his suitcase and immediately hugged her back in the tightest embrace he could muster.

“I know, Dad. I’m sorry, too. I know I was selfish, but I was just hurt, and I felt betrayed because you both hid things from me. But seeing you so down for years after the divorce, I realized that I just wanted you to be happy, even if it was with my best friend,” she sobs onto his shoulder.

“Oh sweetpea, I won’t ever hide anything from you ever again. I wanted to tell you, but I just didn’t know how.” A tear ran down his cheek as he rubbed her back to comfort his baby.

You watched the two of them talking through everything that had transpired over the past few months, and for once, you didn’t have to hide the love in your eyes for your best friend's father.

The scene before you was so wholesome you’re just happy that they were able to work through things despite what happened in the past.

He kissed her on her forehead as they separated from the hug. “Promise?” She stuck out her pinky, ready to swear on it.

Heeseung smiled proudly at his daughter, so grown but still just his little baby at heart. “Promise.” he looked over to you, and your smile made his heart feel at ease, and he could see a whole future with you in your eyes. “Come here.” He beckoned you closer.

His daughter stepped back, giving you space to reunite with each other. “I love you,” you whispered in his ear as you engulfed him.

“Love you, my princess,” he pecked you on the lips.

“Eww, not in front of me, not yet, at least.” Your best friend looks at you both with a disgusted look, but behind it, you could tell she was trying to stop herself from smiling.

“Hey! Group hug,” heeseung cheered as you three formed a circle and hugged each other.

“Okay, that’s enough.” his daughter pulls away first, and he ruffles her hair, getting a glare in return.

“There she is, back to herself self,” heeseung laughed as his daughter walked upstairs. 

“No kissing in front of me, no flirting, and y/n, you’re my best friend, not my mom, so don’t even try it.” With that, you hear her door close and then turn to look at heeseung as you both release a relieved sigh.

“So…” he breathes out, his smile growing wider the more the reality sets in.

“Sooooooo?” You chuckle and wrap your arms around him.

“I’m so happy,” he grins and closes his eyes, pressing his lips to yours softly. “I love you.”

You held each other in the middle of the living room, the same spot where you both fell in love. It was definitely a bumpy ride, but you’d do it all again if it had this same outcome. 

You hum against his lips. “I love you too.” You confess your love to him, and that definitely won’t be the last time. 

here it is, I hope yall are happy. 😒

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

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