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madamechrissy · 2 months ago

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Took you Like a Shot

Pairings- Rich Frat/fuckboi Toru x Preppy Sorority reader

Summary- One VERY drunk encounter between your greatest rival ever - on your last day of college- leads to you being knocked up. Satoru Gojo, a fuckboy, fratboy, rich little jerk, has been a rival of yours since you all met in College, every damn grade you fought for he got with ease. He crashed every Sorority party you threw. The two of you are so infamous in your rivalry, your friend groups were rivals, and for some reason, life is playing some damn joke on you both. Now... you have to tell him the news - but how Satoru takes it surprises you. Can you both raise a baby together!? And do you even really know each other?

Contents/Warnings- gonna be flashbacks to the rivalry/that night, nerdjo but make him a fratboy, enemies to kind of begrudging partners, but then as the pregnancy progresses, they fall in love hehe (gojo is an idiot) MDNI - 4 parts (I THINK) in this chap-explicit sexual content, oral (m and f recieving) light angst, lots of feelings developing, Satoru is a lil shit but he's tryingg, cumplay, creampie, cervix kisses, mating press, flashbacks of their past rivalry- WC- this chap- 11k ( a lil longer one for ya) art in the banner by Yuana on X

Comments and reblogs so appreciated if you enjoyy <3 (extras here and here)

<<<Chapter One - Masterlist - Playlist- Chapter Three>>>

Chapter Two

One Week later

“Are you… are you high!?” You whisper, as Satoru Gojo steps out of the back seat of his car, grinning up at you, sunglasses covering his eyes, but when he tilted them down, they’re bloodshot, he winces as the sunny day hits them, his head pounding.

Maybe going to a party last night was a bad idea?

Fucking Suguru and Sukuna.

“What? No! Do they have good food here!?” He’s eyeing the restaurant eagerly, tummy audibly growling. “I’m starving.”

“Satoru, tell me you’re not blitzed before we meet my parents.” You hiss between your teeth, crossing your arms under your breasts, just drawing even his faded attention to them.

“Those tits, god they keep getting-”

“Nope. Answer me.”

He whistles, shaking his head, before he grins once more, lopsided and far too charming. “No way, sweets. Straight as… a whistle?”

“A whistle?” Your raised brow shows your obvious confusion, you lean over to sniff him, smelling no pot however.

“Damn baby, right here?” He’s chuckling at his own joke, he may look like a million bucks in this gray Armani suit, so damn gorgeous it’s ridiculous. “I’m fine I swear, and ooh… don’t you look good.”

“Um… thanks?” He lowers those glasses as you lead him over to the stairs. It's bustling and busy, nice but casual, not what Satoru was used to, but when you explain it’s your favorite place, he’s intrigued. “This way, you’ve met my parents, yeah?”

“A couple times.” He pauses as you step in front of him, staring at that ass in this fucking sundress, making his already fucked up state worse, as he remembers the first time he noticed that ass.

*****

Four years ago

“Well hello, pretty.” Came the slow drawl of the voice behind you, it’s your first day of college, you’re so nervous but excited, this was a big opportunity for a girl like you, a full ride scholarship so elite. You look around, seeing the white haired man whistling as he stares at your ass, his sunglasses perched on his straight nose.

“Gojo?” You ask then, since you all met Senior year of high school, he’d certainly never called you pretty.

His blue eyes lock on yours over his shades, blinking then, thin brows together. “When did you get such a nice ass?”

“A nice what!?” You turn now, shoving at his chest, which almost makes you blush at just how built he feels.

You remember seeing him shirtless playing basketball, dribbling that and dunking in school, but the two of you never talked, you were the new girl Senior year and quiet, he was as popular as it got. This year, you want to have a life, have friends, not just be the shy girl.

You have a plan.

And he certainly can’t fuck that up.

“I didn’t know it was you, shit, you been like… doing squats or-”

“Can we not talk about my ass? Also how was I pretty from the back?” He’s grinning, bright white snarky little grin.

“I bet it’s pretty from the back-” Smack. “Ow, what the hell!?”

“You are an ass, Satoru Gojo.” A crowd gathers, gasping as Satoru takes off his shades, a red mark on his face.

“Give a girl a compliment and she smacks you for it!? Prissy little brat.”

“I don’t want your pervy compliments, manwhore.” You hear the oohs and whispers rolling more and more, as he crosses his arms, smirking like the little shit he is.

“Pervy? No, you should be honored to have them by me, goody goody.”

“Conceited jerk! Ugh!”

“Little nerd!”

“Me!? Don’t you play Digimon!”

“Yeah but you play DnD.” You cross your arms now, glaring up at the tall handsome jerk of a man, in his stupid blue polo that brings out his eyes, very unfortunately.

“DnD is classy.”

“Okay dungeon master.”

“Ugh!” You both stomp off in different directions, as everyone disperses, already talking about the two of you, people who never noticed you in high school now saw the girl who slapped ‘the’ Satoru Gojo.

Satoru’s friends, Suguru and Sukuna come up to him then, as he rubs his cheeks, and he sees Utahime talking to you. “Oh great, she’s talking to the number one Gojo hater.”

“She smacked the shit out of you, dude.” Suguru snorts, clearly blitzed, where his eyes are white they’re bright red. Satoru rubs his cheek, as you walk off, that nice ass in those jeans jiggling just so, while your hips sway.

“Just told her she had a nice ass.” He grumbles, Sukuna and Suguru lean their heads to the side, whistling, earning you looking back at the three men.

“Really!?” You cross your arms, and they all snort in laughter.

“They’re pigs, I know. Hey, we should sign up for the sorority, don’t you think!?” Utahime asks, you bite your lip nervously.

“A sorority?”

“You’d do great, baby.”

“Shoko!” You both hug her, as she sucks on the tip of her cigarette, looking back at the boys and laughing a bit.

“They’re still staring at your ass.”

“My god!” You take off your hoodie then, wrapping it around your hips, flipping the three of them off, Sukuna and Suguru laugh, but Satoru’s just staring, blue eyes far, far too much to handle.

Blue eyes you fell into when you first saw him.

Before he opened his mouth, that is.

*****

Present Day

The memories fade off, when you head up the stairs to the rooftop restaurant where you were meeting your parents for lunch, and you hear a low whistle as you step up each stair. You turn, hand on the railing while the breeze whips your dress around just a bit, when you see him staring right at your ass.

“Satoru!”

“It’s getting bigger, pregnancy is kind of hot on you.” You gasp now, as he’s licking his lower lip, eyes traveling up your body.

“I’ll smack you!” You whisper, turning and leaning close, while his hand now comes to rest on your waist, feeling far, far too good.

“It’s a compliment, Pookie, relax.”

“I’m not your ‘Pookie’ and-” He pinches your ass now, earning his smack, but this time he dodges, before casually strolling up the stairs, hands in his pockets, as you’re fuming and stomping along next to him.

“You’re a brat.”

“A brat!?”

“Never could take a compliment for shit.”

“A big ass isn’t-”

“There you two are!” Your parents wave you two over then, and Satoru puts an arm around you with ease, waving and grinning, hand precariously close to the ass that has driven him insane since the first day of college.

“Hey guys!” You greet, grinning but whispering through your teeth. “I’m gonna kick your ass later.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time now.”

“Gojo! What a… surprise.” Your mom looks at you curiously, you haven’t told them yet, but surely seeing you with Satoru Gojo was a shock. He smiles with ease, taking her hand and kissing it with a wink, as if he’s a gentleman and not someone who just pinched your ass.

“Hey there, Gojo.” Your dad says now, shaking his hand, and you both sit across from them, as the pretty waitress flirts right with Satoru, he ignores her and has an arm draped around your waist.

He plays a very good boyfriend.

Maybe his arm feels a little too good?

Pregnancy hormones, surely.

“You don’t want mimosas?” Your mom asks curiously then, as the waitress offers the bottomless special, you shake your head, and Satoru’s blue eyes assess you carefully, your hand flitting to your stomach.

You already were sacrificing, sure it’s just drinks, but he’d gotten blitzed the fuck out last night, something about that feels off to him. He can’t pinpoint or place it, when you take his hand in yours, it feels too good, your warm hand so tiny compared to his own huge hands, he falters for a moment, mind all over the place until he sees the shock on your parents faces.

Oh shit.

You just told them!

“Pregnant!?” Your mom says far too loudly, and you see the curiosity of those around you, shushing her then. “What!? How?”

“You wanna know how? Take a guess mom.” Your eyes narrow, and then your mom sighs, as your dad still blinks in shock.

“With… Gojo?” Her assessment turns to Satoru then, who’s gulping down his own icy drink, some rainbow frozen concoction, so fast his head hurts, he holds it then, whimpering.

“Brain freeze, ouchie!” He’s screaming out, earning more looks, as your mom turns back to you, watching the six foot four man waving his arms like he’s caught on fire, a question on her lips.

“Him though? Honey…” You sigh then, standing up and cupping Satoru’s face then.

“Open up.” He opens his mouth now, as you press your thumb against the roof of his mouth, to the avid attention of the entirety of the rooftop now, when Gojo sighs in relief, blue eyes fluttering open, meeting yours.

“S’better!” He mumbles, you laugh then, you can’t help it, damn him if he’s not amusing and… freaking cute, pouting like a puppy around your finger.

“It’s a trick I learned.” He’s tempted to suck on your finger then, so much he kind of does, making you heat up, pulling back and wiping his drool off your dress, as you both sit back down, and your parents look at each other.

“Oh.” They both say then, making the two of you blink in confusion.

“Oh what?” You ask.

“I guess I see it now.” Your dad’s words fill you both with confusion, but you have to admit, it works in your favor, too.

“Yes we are… together.” You say softly, scooching your chair a little closer, when Satoru’s hand rests on your thigh, burning your skin with the contact.

Pregnancy hormones, right?

Nothing else… yeah?

“We are, and she’d like to keep it.” Gojo’s soft words surprise you, making you meet his gaze, wondering then- “Gonna be a Satoru junior!”

“Satoru junior!? What if it’s a girl?”

“Still Satoru. Oh wait, Satoruette.”

“Oh god,we are not naming it Satoruette!”

Your parents laugh then, and the tension eases, soon your dad is talking to Satoru, and they’re speaking on sports, of course Satoru was also a star basketball player, amongst everything else. That’s one area you never were not missing too much, you cheered of course but it was not really your passion, also every game seemed to be some argument between you two.

“Are you sure about this, kids are a big responsibility, especially financially.” Your mom’s words hit you hard, you know that of course, and don’t take it lightly. “We can help some but things are a little tight-”

“No mom, no. This isn’t for that, though you can totally buy them some cute little toys or clothes if you want.” Her eyes get misty, as your hands join over the table. “This is just to tell you. I can do this mom.”

“But honey, your career…”

“I can do it. I know I can.” She sighs now, leaning over and brushing your cheek, Satoru watches the affection then and hears her words.

“Then I’m proud of you, I always am.”

God, what would Satoru do if he heard those words?

His parents barely gave him affection growing up, always on this island or this cruise, this country or that destination, never acknowledging how hard Satoru worked, just informing him of his duty. Taking over the business, college was useless to a family like the Gojos, maybe a nice decoration for that sky high office building just waiting with his name on it.

No straight A’s, no winning games, nothing got one tenth of the affection you just got for something that’s essentially not the best thing at your age. No, your mom is proud of you, and he watches your tears flow down your cheeks, realizing he’s seen you cry a few times now, but never in four years, while you’re smiling tremulously at her.

“Thank you mom. I needed that.” You’re on her side of the table, hugging, as your dad clears his throat a bit.

“Gonna make an honest woman out of her?”

“Dad! Satoru, don’t listen. Old fashioned man.” You tease, wiping off your cheeks and smiling so brightly, the sun hits your skin, skin that’s just glowing, and it makes his breath catch for a moment.

You’re beautiful.

He always knew you were banging hot, a little pretty brat, but he never realized until that moment, with everything glowing about you, that you’re beautiful too, an inner beauty that makes his fogged brain clear for just a moment. The crush he’d had for so long suddenly shifts into something more, even moreso than after the night you two shared that led to this moment.

“Are you okay, they’re a little extra.” He notices you’re right then, looking over to your parents and shaking his head.

“They’re great actually.” The sincerity in his voice hits deeply, you smile over at your parents, then back at him.

“They are, huh?” You grin, so clearly devoted to your family.

How must that feel to be?

So loved.

“So… dinner in a few hours with your parents, right? Should I dress a certain way?” Satoru’s demeanor shifts, you frown a bit at it, touching his shoulder. “You okay, this is a lot.”

“I’m fine.” He needs another hit of that blunt or ten before he deals with his parents, however.

“Are you gonna continue basketball, Gojo?” Your dad asks, Satoru sighs, frowning and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t.” His words make you sick as you’re struggling to just keep water down, have you already fucked his dreams up?

“The baby…”

“No, no.” His hand sits on yours with far too much ease, like it’s been there in that spot for as long as you can remember, squeezing it. “Nothing to do with that. The family business.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, you were amazing though.” He smirks just a bit at that, you sure would never have said that back then.

“Ya think so?” You nod then.

“I was a shitty cheerleader.” He smiles.

“You were.”

“Hey!” You shove him playful\y, as the food is brought out, Satoru has ordered an obscene amount of food, already digging in. “Remember nationals?”

“Oh god yeah.”

Three years ago

Satoru and the team had almost won nationals already, and you and the cheerleading squad are on the sidelines, about to head into the center of the loud basketball court, the rubber of your cheer sneakers sliding just so, squeaky over the floor as you all prepare. Satoru has a bunch of girls all over him, snapping selfies, as he’d already secured their guarantee, so of course he was the MVP of the team.

You watched him avidly, how good he was, not that you’d admit it, especially as your fists go to your hips, preparing for the routine, and Satoru’s chuckling just a bit at you, smug expression on his stupid pretty face. You can’t stand him then, when he cups his hands over his face, shouting your name.

“You can do it.” He’s mocking, one thing you were not good at was fucking cheerleading. You couldn’t flip for shit and were afraid of heights, this was a terrible combination.

Some people laugh, as your friends pat your back, encouraging you. When the routine begins, and you’re up in the air, standing stiff, you panic, the room starts spinning damn near. You feel yourself lose balance, falling in front of a court with thousands of people watching.

And one loudly laughing.

You can’t cry, you can’t cry.

You brush off the helpful hands of your friends, hopping up and immediately regretting it, your entire body aches, and you see a bruise already forming along your knee, scraped up and dripping blood.

And he laughed at you.

God you can’t stand him.

You limp off when Satoru sobers up, seeing you’re clearly hurt, and runs towards you, pausing you before you run right out of there. “Funny, huh? You get a good laugh at me?”

You glare at him, eyes watery then, and he falters, instantly feeling terrible, he didn’t think you hurt yourself, and the fall was comical. It’s what you both did, make fun of each other, laugh and point when one of you fucked up, but even the side of your face has a blossoming bruise, which he touches, earning your trembling lip.

He’s never seen you cry.

“Are you crying?”

“Really, came here to mock me even now!?”

“No I…”

“I am not crying, and I’ll be fine. I quit.” You’re limping off, even when Satoru’s hands hit your waist, feeling far too good.

You shove it down, shove it all down.

“You quit, competitive ass no way.”

“I do.”

“C-can I carry you, to get it checked? The doc is here-”

“Carry me, what kind of joke is that, to make you look even better? The basketball court is full of quiet murmurs, many worried about you, and cooes of how sweet Satoru is. His blue eyes light up with fire as they narrow.

“You think I am asking to help so I look good.”

“You always care how you look. And you look perfect, you have the perfect life, and here I am - falling in front of a room - to you fucking laughing. I’m good.” You pull back from him, wincing in pain as your knee is swelling even more.

“You’re being a stubborn brat, you have to get checked. What if you-”

“Tell them I quit, if you wanna do anything for me. You won’t have to see me as often either, works out.”

“I…”

“Congrats on the win, I’m sure.” He watches you limp away, your friends running after you, eventually he walks back, your face haunting him.

Maybe if he didn’t taunt you?

Maybe if he didn’t laugh…

You clearly got hurt, thrown off maybe because of him, and he’s just left there, quietly informing the team you quit. When he’s back to his team, even they look at him a little seriously, his coach coming to tell him about sportsmanship, and how he shouldn’t laugh like that.

Satoru tried to apologize the next time he saw you, but instead of the banter, with your leg wrapped up, you turned and said nothing to him.

Shit he fucked up.

*****

Present Day

You are walking Satoru to his car, as you both have a few hours to go, while his mind whirls with regret, with memories of you. You had brought up nationals as a joke at how bad you were, but all it did was make him remember just how fucking horrible he was to you.

“What’s wrong, intense huh?” You look at him with concern he doesn’t really deserve, your dress blowing just a bit, earning you clutching some of the thin material in a fist.

“I was an ass that day. Nationals.” You look down now, taking a little breath, shaking your head.

“It probably looked funny-”

“No. I was an ass. I’m… sorry.” Your pretty face is frozen in shock, mouth wide open while you try to comprehend his words.

“You’re apologizing for something like that?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” You both stand there for a bit, when you remember how upset you were, god you two didn’t talk for months, a gnawing feeling growing.

Do you know him truly?

“Thank you for that. But, it’s the past, we shouldn’t dwell.” Your hand is soft on his shoulder.

“Pregnancy making you a mush.”

“Says you, apologizing for your past, like some Eboneezer Scrooge.”

“Pshh.” You both laugh a bit, before you clear your throat, dispelling some of the tension between the two of you.

“I’ll see you soon, Satoru.”

“Sounds good.”

Doesn’t sound good, his parents are not something he wants having you scrutinized, the cozy vibes of today will be long, long gone, he already knows.

******

“Holy shit… you’re… rich rich.” Satoru snorts, rolling his eyes as you two use the brass lion knocker that evening, twilight making the sky a myriad of purples and pinks, casting the softest glow.

“Yeah, the ‘richest in the state’.” He finds it all far too pretentious, but you can’t help but feel a mixture of intimidation, and awe, the high iron gates and gorgeous mansion in front of you, in the prettiest white with light blue there was, as if it was molded for Satoru’s color.

Could anything replicate his eye color?

Why are you thinking that way!?

“Are they alright with this?” You ask quietly, hearing the footsteps head towards the door, ever so slowly.

“They are… well you’ll see.” The tone, while he’s still blitzed the fuck out clearly, perhaps more, is dark for a simple dinner. “I already told them.”

“Oh… you did?”

“Yeah, when I found out, trust me, throwing you to the wolves is an understatement of my parents.” The door opens, after an uncomfortable long moment, the butler opens it and bows at his waist.

“Master Gojo, come come.” He claps his hands, nose literally up in the air like some damn commercial for ‘grey poupon’ or some shit. Satoru’s family home is even more beautiful on the interior, floors polished to a glassy sheen, white marble of course, along with dual winding steps, in crushed white velvet with mahogany rails.

Everything in here is impeccable, sparkling, chandeliers over head with the insanely high ceilings, you tilt your head back, to see the intricate work decorating it, swirls of gold and blue, like you’d see in old royalty. It doesn’t fit a damn LA home, as rich as the area is, no it’s damn near Versailles.

You swallow down a sudden lump of anxiety, when Satoru’s hand squeezes yours, gently, and you look at him. His eyes are slightly glazed, his jaw is tight, his grip reassuring, but the way he looks around, like he himself is uncomfortable in his own home, makes you realize how much he truly hates this place.

You never considered someone so privileged could feel this way, his utter disgust is clear as day. “I know, it’s overboard.”

“No, I mean it’s beautiful…” Your words trail off, because the butler has already led you to the dining hall, where a table so long it could fit fifty people is set for the four of you. You spot his mother and father at the end of the table, their expressions unreadable, but you know they’re sizing you up.

The chandeliers are dimmer here, the walls lined with paintings that belong in a damn art gallery, including a giant painting of Gojo, his father and you’re assuming his grandfather, so giant they take over the entire room. The atmosphere is so thick with tension in the air that you could feel your lungs crave fresh air.

Is this where he grew up?

The smell of surely a five star meal wafts over to you, but your stomach feels like it’s in knots, when you see the elaborate display, and you see Satoru’s mother. She’s got long silky white locks, but dark eyes, elegant and beautiful as she stands up, while his father has the exact shade of blue, Satoru is clearly the perfect mix of the two gorgeous people.

“Ah, Satoru, and you…” She addresses your name, a cold smile as she gestures for you to sit. “Come have dinner.”

“Pleased to meet you all, thank you.” You say politely, even as this feeling of being… in some petri dish under a microscope takes over. Satoru’s plopping down, making his father’s brows lower.

“Can’t pull out her seat?” He demands, and Satoru sighs, but you’re already sitting down.

“This looks so delicious, thank you.” You try to ease the tension, while you all follow into polite, menial conversation, their words feel practiced and hollow.

You think of your upbringing, a little cozy home, far from rich or fancy, but your mom cooked every night. And that little old kitchen table they still have, the one long past its prime, was filled with laughter, tears, or sometimes even lively debates between the three of you.

Not this.

“So, let’s cut to it.” You hear, while you’re nibbling on a bite of probably the best filet mignon you’ve had, but your fork clatters to your plate at his father’s words.

“Really, couldn’t give it twenty minutes?” Satoru’s words are icy cold.

You tense as you sit at the table, scrutinized to a tee, his mother and father’s eyes cooly assessing you up and down. “You have an amazing degree, lots of community activism, some sports it seems.”

“You… researched me?” You ask, his father shrugs.

“Of course we did, we need to know if you’re good stock.”

You nearly spit out your drink, Satoru’s jaw tenses so much you see a thin blue vein popping out from his jaw, pulsing under that skin. “She’s not an animal, the fuck you mean good stock. Are we breeding corgis?”

“You know what he meant.” His mom says, dabbing a handkerchief on her lips and sighing, leaning back to look at you. “She’s beautiful, and clearly intelligent, no record ever, unlike your long one.”

“Whatever a couple charges. And… so what, then she’s okay for your standard then?” Gojo says with a glare, as you heat up in embarrassment.

“She seems like she may be good quality, though her family isn’t exactly up to par.” You throw down your napkin then, standing, and Satoru curses, knowing you sure weren’t letting that slip. He murmurs your name, but you’re far gone.

“My parents are the best there are in the world.”

“They’re poor.”

“Poor!? They aren’t on the streets, they live in a fucking superb.”

“Bad language, check that off.” His mom murmurs, and Satoru blinks at their audacity, watching as his former rival - was it former? - fire sign brat - about to go unhinged, was so enjoyable his lips twitch in humor.

“Is there a checklist you’re keeping for me?” You demand, they look at Satoru then.

“She seems angry, is that usual?” His mom asks, earning Satoru’s smirk.

“She’s fiery is all.”

“Talk to me like I’m a person, stop acting like I’m a picture, someone who fits your son in your eyes.” They both falter a bit, watching while you’re crossing your arms now, he hears your heels click on the floor, echoing while he can clearly see the fury raging on your pretty face.

“We don’t disapprove.” His father says then, making you pause, as well as Satoru for a moment. “She… sorry, you seem like you have your life together. Squeaky clean, dean’s list, high up journalism opportunity. We are supportive of the two of you getting married.”

“Married!?” The two of you shout at once, you plop back down in your seat in shock, sipping water while they look at each other, then the two of you.

“Of course you’ll get married, the sooner the better before-”

“It’s not 1810, we won’t be getting married.” Satoru cuts in. “In the future perhaps, but it’s common for people to not marry.”

“That’s unacceptable for your position, and you know it. What sort of scandal would that cause?”

“Scandal this, image that, fuck it.” Satoru downs the glass of wine in front of him, shaking his head now as he answers his mother. “I’ll take care of the baby, but we aren’t getting married for your image.”

“I highly encourage you to change your mind, a marriage and baby would look good for the corporation.” Satoru rolls his eyes at his father’s words.

“Everything for the image, huh?” He smiles sadly, eyes hollow, and you realize then and there that you’ve never really known a damn thing about Satoru Gojo.

You pictured it, the rich boy he was, flaunting his wealth in shirts worth your bills for the month, how cocky and conceited he seemed, how foolish. But now it all starts clicking together like little puzzle pieces you can finally press together. How could he handle parents like this?

“We will help support the heir, regardless.” His mother says, a little softer, you watch as Satoru stands then, hands gripping the table tightly.

“I don’t need help, and we are not royalty, as close as you think we are, don’t call it the ‘heir’ please. I think I’m… full though. You?” He holds out a hand and you nod, placing yours in his, while his parents stand across the elegant banquet table as well, stiff and stuck up… and just cold.

“Satoru, we aren’t displeased you’re having the child, just the way you’re going about it. It’s uncouth.” His father’s words make him squeeze the fuck out of your hand, while he pulls you to stand.

“Uncouth huh?”

“You’re uncouth all together, you always are. When you’re supposed to be the pride of the family.” You glare now, yanking Satoru around, until you stand directly in front of his parents.

“Guess what, I’m proud of him, even if you aren’t, okay?” They gasp at your audacity, but Satoru just blinks, staring at you.

“You’re a mouthy little girl, aren’t you?” You laugh then, right at his mother, shaking your head.

“You’re going to be grandparents, you should focus on becoming good ones, huh? Not financially, either. Focus on being someone we can feel good about you being in their lives, about the coming over.”

“Well, we won’t watch the baby. We could pay for a nanny-”

“No.” You cut his mother off again. “All due respect Mr. and Mrs. Gojo, you need to get it together if you want to be in this baby’s life. No nannies, no being uppity, you need to support your son, okay?”

“We-”

“No, I mean really support him. He got straight A’s, he was a star basketball player, leader of his fraternity, now he’s stepping up to care for his baby. What more did you need to be proud of!?”

Satoru speaks your name again, tugging at you, while his parents frown then, staring at each other. “We should go.”

“Thank you for dinner, Mr. and Mrs Gojo. I hope I can see you all again.” You say now, holding out your hand, firmly shaking each of theirs, before you let Satoru pull you away, steps echoing through the elegant halls on those marble floors. Pretentious statues staring at you both the whole way, you can feel him, seething. “Shit, I said too much, I’m sorry…”

“Will you stop?” He’s pulled you past the door man now, until the two of you are finally outside, so he can breathe.

“How do you even handle them?” Your question makes Satoru laugh, without humor, while you all stand in front of the Gojo mansion, the night breeze swirling around the two of you, the moon so full and bright it’s illuminating his perfect skin.

“How do I handle them…” He’s shrugging a broad shoulder now, as the two of you wait for the car to arrive. “I didn’t have to very often, they weren’t around.”

“No wonder you…”

“No wonder I what?” He whispers, raising a thin brow now, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I shouldn’t say anything.”

“No, when have you ever held back, hmm little preppy ass brat?” It’s your turn to glare, crossing your arms.

“I wasn’t attacking you here, I was trying to be understanding, to… just try to get you, okay?”

“Why, do ya feel bad for me?”

“No!” You do though, shit. You feel horrible that those are his parents, not that they are cruel, they don’t care about him as anything other than a figurehead.

“Don’t feel bad, I have everything I ever wanted, right?” He uses your own words in the past against you, making you falter, blinking rapidly. “What’s that display, though, playing a girlfriend so well?”

“What display?”

“That you’re ‘proud of me’ or whatever.” He’s mumbling now, looking away from you, making the clenching in your tummy worse. “That’s feeling sorry.”

“That’s defending you, okay?” His eyes catch yours, more feelings than you ever expected to see from Satoru Gojo, eyes that were arrogant were swirling with more emotions than you could fathom.

“I don’t need you to.” You scoff now, shaking your head, biting on a lower lip he’s dying to kiss, a mouth he wants to devour, with every puff of breath in the cool night, he sees goosebumps along your shoulders and arms. He should offer you his fucking jacket, he should…

You’re touching his face, hand cool on his heated cheek, as you glare right up at him, making him ache to pull you against him. “If we are going to raise a baby together, we need to do a lot better than them. And we can do better, okay? I know you can.”

Satoru exhales at your words, blinking back emotions. “How do you know?”

“I just know, you’ll be more involved, you’re not like them, alright? You’re arrogant, you annoy me, you're a perverted little shit.” He laughs a bit, softly now, big hand wrapping your delicate wrist, easing off his face, but not letting it go. “But you’re not them, you’re just… Satoru.”

“Shit.” He pulls you against his hard chest, making you both falter, your own eyes darting to his lips, far too close when he leans down.

If he kisses you, you’ll melt.

“Say something dumb or pervy.” You whisper, he grins now, shaking his head, while his hand slips down your waist.

“There’s been one thing on my mind looking at you-” The car pulls up now, and he clears his throat, hands slipping down your cool arms. “Time for you to go home. Do you want me to ride with you?”

You nod then, sliding into the back of the black car with him, as he sends the address to the driver’s gps, leaning back, arm over the seat, so close to you, his long legs spread wide, brushing on your still chilled skin. You feel the warmth of him, as you fall into an uncomfortable silence, you can’t stop wondering about him, the boy you thought you knew.

You turn your head to find him staring right at you, openly, not the ogling stare of before, no it was so different. Contemplative, studying, heating you up everywhere it touches like his hands themselves are touching you, burning a trail everywhere they land, in the quiet dark of the car.

“What is it?” You murmur, biting back a moan when his hand touches your thigh, feeling so good you almost fail at concealing it.

“Beautiful, that’s what I’ve thought all day.” Your cheeks heat up, you look away then, words you’d never expect Satoru to say.

“What?”

“You’re beautiful. Okay?” His fingers brush your hair back, off your collarbone, trailing them across it then, as your chest rises and falls with every breath. “I can’t stop thinking about it, shit I always knew you’re drop dead gorgeous, but I guess today is the first moment I thought it.”

“You can’t-”

“I do mean it. Glowing, fuck.” He’s too close then, and you’re gulping, throat suddenly dry, inhaling that hundred dollar a spray cologne, intoxicating as it fills your senses.

“Satoru…” He’s exhaling, breath hot against your lips, lips you’ve bitten to death in attempts to hold back, what’s glimmering to the surface.

“We hate each other, I don’t want that, not for this baby.”

You blink rapidly, your own hand slipping up his chest, feeling his heart race as it does. “I don’t want it either. I want them to have loving parents, even if we’re not together.”

Together.

Satoru’s never dated, he’s had women in and out of his bed since he turned eighteen, sometimes multiple girls in one night, chasing some feeling that he has never gotten, except with you. But even after that night, he never contemplated it, dating someone, being with them, was he worthy of that, especially with you? He couldn’t even give you his jacket.

Suddenly he takes it off, making you giggle when he wraps you with it. “It’s not cold inside the car, silly.”

“I suck, I’m an idiot and… I am not a gentleman, at all.”

“Satoru…” He shakes his head as you cut him off.

“No, it’s true. I was fucked up before an important day for us, and I couldn’t even give you my jacket tonight when I saw you freezing.” You pull it closer, when he’s brushing a hand under it, right on your waist, sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re doing fine all things considered, I wasn’t kidding. I am proud that you stepped up, it means a lot to me, okay?”

“Don’t be so nice.” You glare, making him moan softly at how sexy you always are when you do.

“You’re being nice, too.”

“I know. Everything I’m thinking, though baby?” He’s got his other hand entangled in your hair, and you can’t stop the soft cry from escaping your lips. “It's filthy.”

“Filthy, huh?” Your voice is just a breathy whisper, he can't stop thinking just how cute you are.

“You can’t begin to imagine what I’m thinking. Seeing these rock hard all fucking day, so full already.” He’s gripping your tits then, squishing one in his palm, and a thumb brushing over it, making your hips roll, pressing your eager cunt against the seat, dying for the friction, while he’s so close you can taste him. “They want to get sucked on, don’t they sweetheart?”

You nod wordlessly, earning Satoru’s moan as he presses you down on the seat then, his own jacket falling under you, hand pushing down your dress, revealing your pretty breasts to his view. You gasp when he brushes his thumb on them, bare, lowering his snowy head, and you’re frozen there, trying to remember all the years you hated him, he hated you.

Why can’t you think of anything but how bad you want him?

“Shouldn’t I take care of you, too? Don’t you ache baby?” He’s murmuring, mouth hovering, as he just barely brushes his lips on them.

“S-sensitive…” He presses another kiss, and your hands entangle in his silky locks, cunt so wet it’s making your panties sticky.

“Sensitive, then do you want me to make them feel good?”

“Should we… ah!” He’s lapping at your nipple with his talented tongue, swirling your nipple, and your moan fills the car, to the point you’re sure poor Kiyotaka could hear you, making you slam a hand on your mouth. Satoru chuckles, little shit that he is, lapping at the other one.

“You want it so bad, don’t you? Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He sucks your nipple into his hot mouth, you can’t stand just how good it feels, your hand entangling in his locks, pulling him off, as your chest heaves with your labored breaths, and he hovers an inch above you.

“Is it just… sex then? Do we just have amazing sex?” He smirks now.

“It was amazing? That’s the first I heard.”

“You know it was, arrogant ass. For me I mean.”

You falter a bit, you’re sure Satoru’s more experienced, you’ve watched him have more girls on him at once than men you’ve known. Satoru sees your hesitance, pressing a kiss on your lower lip now, nipping it slowly with his teeth, unleashing the heat in your core, until you’re throbbing with need.

“You felt so good wrapped around me.” You whine out at that, as he presses kisses to each corner of your mouth, gripping your breast again, heavy weight over you, his words and caresses making you pulse now. “Felt you cumming, so tight, think I don’t wanna be back inside you?”

“Shit… this is insane.” You’re shaking your head, when he kisses down your neck, back arching up for more. “If we are going to… we’d have to be exclusive, for the safety of the baby. So you really better think about this. At least while I’m pregnant.”

As if Satoru had been with anyone since you.

“I wouldn’t put the baby at risk.” Your eyes lock, noses brushing against each other, while he touches your tummy, feeling the slight roundness just barely already, making him lose his mind.

“While I’m pregnant I mean… if you do want anyone else and want this to stop… just tell me so I know?” He nods, unable to say the words, that he just wants you.

“Guess what?” His husky voice resonates in your ears, like he’s speaking to your pussy directly.

“W-what?”

“I can cum so deep inside your tight little cunt, all you want. ” His words fuck your brain, what was left of it, his fingers brushing on your slick heat now. “Fuck, you’re soaked, you like that thought huh.”

“It’s just hormones, mnh!” He’s laughing at your attempt.

“Hormones hmm?” You nod weakly, then cry out as he sinks two fingers in your pussy, pressing up in those gummy walls, that spot that has you weak, seeing fucking stars.

“Fuck you for hitting it so quick-ah!” He’s smirking as he watches you, the sounds of your squelching wetness filling his ears, making him feral.

“Wanna cum on my fingers or my mouth?” Your lips part, brows together, uncomprehending his words.

“Y-you eat girls out?” He chuckles then, curling his fingers up inside you just so, as your slick pools down his hand, already gripping him like a vise.

“Do I seem so selfish?” You take several shaky breaths, eyes rolling back as he hits some spot even you don’t know about, bringing you higher and higher. “Think I don’t wanna bury my face between your thighs?”

“It’s… intimate…”

“You’re cute.” He’s kissing lower, lower, your thighs trembling when the car comes to a stop, and Satoru’s fingers are coated in your slick when he pulls them out, dripping off his fingers, when he sucks on them, making your jaw drop. “Fuck you taste s’good.”

“Jesus, hormones and you are dangerous.” He’s smirking, when you sit up, biting on your lip once more. “Do you wanna come inside?”

“Cum inside that pussy?” You roll your eyes.

“Oh never mind…”

“No, no, no! I do!” He follows you out of the car, while your hands tremble, trying to unlock the door, you both barely get in before your lips are all over each other, you keep thinking, this is insane.

Insane.

It’s just the situation, why he’s ripping that dress off you, leaving you naked and bare to him completely in moments with practiced hands, moaning softly when he sees your body fully, that night he hadn’t seen all of you. His hands grip your hips then, yanking you up like it’s nothing, right into his arms. You cling to him, kissing him desperately, still fully clothed, while he presses you on the door.

“Fuck me, please.” Your desperate plea alone makes him leak precum, while he stares at your gorgeous frame.

“You’re begging me? Never thought I’d see the day, preppy little brat.” Your glare just makes him harder, as you shove at him now.

“Satoru!”

“You’re demanding pregnant, aren’t you?”

“Oh my god just… shut up please…” You slam your lips on his, grinding shamelessly against his belt, that hits your clit just so, making him drop that persona for just a minute, how sexy you are, how good you feel. “God just fuck me.”

“Room?” You point weakly as he carries you, and you’re thrown right on your bed, he stands up then, pulling off his dress shirt, revealing that perfect body, glowing slightly with the moonlight filtering through your blinds. You sit up, yanking on his belt with shaky hands, yanking his pants down and revealing how hard he already is under his boxers.

Your body violently responds when you see how much he wants you, for some reason that means more than it should, than two people making the best of such an insane situation, tugging his boxers down until his cock springs free. You’re lapping at his pretty blushed tip before he can think, eyes looking up at him from lowered lashes, making him whimper from just that.

Satoru whimpering triggers something in you yourself, you’re sucking his veiny length, as his hands entangle in your hair, his head falling back, abdomen flexing while you take him deeper. “B-baby, fuck… taking it that good, huh?”

He’s mad you’ve ever done it.

He’s mad anyone’s even seen your eyes at this angle. God he can’t stop thinking how pretty they are, even as his cock throbs inside your hot mouth, and you suck him so fucking hungry. He can’t stop thinking of how gorgeous you are, how he’s not sure he even deserves this from you, like he’s in some fucking dream, sweet thoughts mixing with the wet sounds of you sucking him up.

He’s feeling the suction, your hot wet mouth so eager, when you touch your throbbing, needy clit, running it in circles, while you sit there serving him, feeling him lose it with every stroke. His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he fucks into your tight throat, feeling so good when his tip brushes the roof of your mouth, leaking pearly pre cum.

“Fuck, you’re so hungry for it, aren’t you?” You pull back with a pop now, when he swipes the drool off your chin, and your hand strokes him, earning another sweet little whimper.

“Shh. Just fuck me.” You whisper, pulling back and turning, on all fours with that sexy ass in the air. He pauses, dying to fuck you, but dying to taste you more, you gasp when Satoru flips you on your back, and you blush in the dark room. “Don’t you wanna…”

“I said I was eating you out. Gonna deny me the meal? Ya that mean?” You’re stammering as he kisses down your tummy, shoving your thighs apart, lapping a stripe up your slit, you’re pulling his hair so hard it hurts, screaming out, just making his cock throb harder.

“Toru I haven’t had anyone… do that…” He pulls back now, and your hands ease, when he sees something he never saw in you before, the confident, feisty little brat that you are.

You’re nervous.

He eases up a bit, resting on his elbows, pressing kisses against your inner thighs as he inhales you, god you smell even better than before, taste even better than he remembers. “I love to do it, if you want.”

You exhale in relief, nodding shyly then, another thing he wouldn’t associate with you- shy. The girl who just ripped down his pants, sucking him like a pro, is nervous to get pleased this way. “I want it, fuck I want it bad. Just a little… you’re seeing all of me, like all.”

“I am seeing so much of this pretty pussy.” He presses a kiss higher up, breath ghosting your sensitive clit when he parts your lips, watching arousal drool out of your cunt. “Prettiest, actually.”

“N-no…”

“Mmhmm.” He licks you again, and something far too intimate forms, when Satoru Gojo is buried between your thighs, worshipping you with his talented tongue in long, slow strokes. “Fuck you’re so wet…”

“Hormones?” He just grins, you feel his teeth against your pussy, when your body relaxes for him, when you spread your thighs, letting him see you, while he presses his cock against the mattress.

“Hormones.” He slips his tongue up to your clit then, and you don’t hold back anymore, a few more strokes and you’re grinding on his face, making his groan vibrate against your sensitive clit. “Mmm…”

“There, there oh my god!” Did Satoru Gojo have to be the best at everything? Did he have to ruin you when his blue eyes watch your face contort in pleasure?

“There you go, you like it right… here.” Satoru slips two fingers in your slutty little hole, pressing up as he flicks his tongue, and you’re clinging to him now, while he works you with a tongue far too talented, you’re instantly jealous of every girl that’s had Satoru like this.

Wild thoughts, stop that.

“Loosen up, just feel it sweetheart.” He says now, feeling you tense around him, and you nod then, eyes rolling back when he fucks those fingers into you, scissoring them in and out, while flicking his tongue right on your clit, twitching in response. “Let go f’me, huh pretty?”

“Mnh!” You shatter at his urging, his mouth, his teeth, tongue, all of it merging and destroying your surroundings, you’re cumming so intense you cannot see anymore, and Satoru’s eagerly drinking you up. “Satoru!”

“Mmm…” He’s lapping all the wetness that’s gushing out of you, fingers easing out to grip your hips, while your thighs tighten on either side of his head. “That’s it, so greedy f’me, want more?”

“Please!” You’re fucking his face now, god he can’t get enough, burying his face against you, shaking his head side to side, while you’re so sensitive the next orgasm comes so quickly, you’re yanking him up, kissing his lips and reaching down, stroking his cock once more, watching snowy lashes flutter.

“God, you’re so ready aren’t you?” You just nod, and when Satoru presses his tip past that tight ring of muscles, sinking deeper, it’s even more intense.

You’re fully sober this time, with swirling blue eyes looking right at you, as he slides in your tight cunt, which struggles to take him at first, even after so much play, Satoru is huge, certainly bigger than you’re used to. You grip his shoulders, manicured nails pressing in, when he rocks his hips just so, kissing your lips, letting your taste mix between the two of you.

“God you’re so wet, fuck…” He’s enamored by you, lifting a thigh then, pulling back and jerking his hips so he’s shoved deeper, your cry drank by his eager lips, that can’t rip themselves from yours.

How is he supposed to ever be with someone now?

You feel like heaven, he won’t say that corny shit, but it’s all he can describe it to, watching your pretty face as he fucks into you slowly, and both of you freeze for just a moment. He grips your hand in his, entwining his fingers as he lays it over your head, your heart races as your pussy struggles to take more, greedy for his every stretch, every stroke.

“S’good I… ah- please, more!” You’re begging him, shameless as you do, when he slams his cock in deep, tip kissing your cervix, your head falls back, his lips devouring your neck while he bends over you.

“Taking this cock like you’re made for it.” Satoru hears your cunt sucking him in, so wet it’s squishing loudly, mixing with the slapping of your skin, as he starts to go faster, watching your eyes nearly black as they dilate. “There you go, look at you. So greedy.”

“Ngh…” You can’t form words anymore, not when he feels better than that night, not when he’s fucking every thought, worry and woe away, you can’t even remember what brought you here. You can’t remember anything, think of anything but his cock, slamming deeper and deeper, his tip dragging on that spot now on your walls. “There, there!”

“You’re so bossy, what a brat.” You can’t scowl, but he knows you wish you could, as he grins down and does just that, eyes hungry while they watch you falling apart under him, pulling back then, groaning as he watches his cock bulging your tummy, making him more sensitive inside you. “Look, so fucking hot, I’m so big in you, aren’t I baby?”

“C-conceited… mmm, y-yes…” He turns your chin, making you blush, where you watch his shape inside you.

“Gotta see this while we can, gonna be so round soon.” His words should bother you, but they don’t. He’s imagining it with you, and it takes him over. “I’ll be easier then with you.”

“Gonna take it e-easy?” You’ve got your thighs up high now, Satoru watches your little hole swallowing him, cock coated in your slick, so wet it’s dripping down his balls, that smack against your ass, harder and deeper now.

“Well I won’t be able to do this.” He’s folding you in half, leaning over you to cup your face with huge hands, slamming deeper than you’ve ever felt, so deep it damn near hurts, but you’re craving it, dying for it, hands gripping his shoulders helplessly while you lose yourself in his eyes.

Insane blue, pupils shrunk to pinpoints, while he hovers over you, breaths mingling together in the night, you’re folded so in half your knees damn near touch the bed. “So d-deep…”

“You can take it, like a good girl. Slutty pussy, listen to her.” You’re too fucked out to get offended, let him call it a slutty pussy, it’s what it was, after all.

“Ngh- Close, close.” He’s slamming his cock harder, tempo increasing as she soaks him so much he almost slips out, only for you to whine desperately, nails leaving crescent moons against his arms, he hisses in pain and pleasure, kissing you deeply, tongues dripping, messy and desperate.

“Fuck…” He’s close, he realizes, a man who could go forever, you’ve already cum, but he wants you cumming over and over until you’re a sobbing, pretty little mess for him, but you feel far too fucking perfect wrapped around him. “Want to cum with me? Want me to fill your slutty hole?”

His dirty words just make your walls flutter, earning his soft whine, right against your ear, his hands gripping your waist bruisingly. You nod weakly, whispering in his ear now - ‘Cum in me’

“Oh god, fuck yes. Want all my cum, don’t you?” You look up, intoxicated by him, losing your mind completely while he’s working you, pulling back to press on your thighs, feral grin spreading across his pretty face. “You’ll take it so fucking good like this.”

“Satoru!” You scream when he thrusts his hips just so, slamming that cervix, forcing you to cum again, to the point your ears are ringing, body on fire for him, every memory of you both thrown out the damn window.

“Beg for it.”

“No!”

“Beg.” He’s smirking, and you shake your head, clenching around him and watching him lose control, his cheeks flushed, lips parted in a gasp.

“You beg to cum in me.”

“No.” You both laugh, then the motion itself brings Satoru to the edge, tightening impossibly around him. “Fuck it, please, let me fill this pussy.”

“You really begged I- ah!” He’s glaring, slamming his cock deep, stuffing your cunt so full.

“That’s it, milk me huh?” You’re too far out, your pussy is milking him with your aftershocks, when he’s pumping you with those hot white ropes, endless sticky, gooey cum. You’re so full from it coating your walls, warm and hot and perfect, all the way even in your tummy. “There you go, taking s’much fuckin cum.”

“S’much I… Satoru.” His cum alone has you addicted, he pulls back now, watching his cock slowly pumping cum in and out of your hole, watching the way it trickles down his huge cock, glistening and mixing with you.

“You took me so well.” His praise is too much, it’s all too much, while Satoru eases back, on his elbows, hovering just so. “God you’re fucking pretty like this, so fucked out.”

You bury your face. “Am not fucked out.”

“No, need more?”

“I’m… we…”

“That’s what I thought.” He eases back, pulling away fully, seeing the mess of both of your fluids fall over the bed, pulling your pussy lips apart, watching it all pour out, drip by drip. “How is this little thing gonna push something out?”

“They stretch silly!”

“Well, clearly, took me so good.” He’s fingering the sticky cum, desperate and feral, cock glimmering from you, damn near ready to fuck into you again.

For a moment you both stare, Satoru’s scooping it out, before sucking on it, your breath is rapid at the motion, his cheeks hollowing, tilting your chin up. “Satoru you’re… a whole freak.”

“Open.” You tentatively do, allowing him to open mouth kiss you, his cum and yours in your mouth, but you crave it, so much you’re pulling him desperate. “You’re gonna be freaky just for me, aren’t you?”

“Shh.” He’s chuckling watching you drink up his cum, while you come down from your high, when he brushes your hair back, you struggle with just how much you feel, how badly you want more.

You’ve never felt anything like this.

How can you and Satoru have this?

“Um… is poor Kiyotaka waiting?” You manage to say softly, to diffuse the feelings threatening to bubble to the surface. Satoru rolls his pretty eyes.

“He gets paid good to wait!”

“Oh jesus. Let’s not keep him waiting forever.”

“Ya kicking me out? Rude. I had you cum how many times?” You giggle, that sound clutching him, pulling him by the goddamn heartstrings.

“I need sleep, and don’t you have a trip coming?”

“Shit… you remembered.”

“You all always took that trip.”

“What did you do during spring break?” He slips on his clothes, as you grab a robe, throwing it over yourself and wrapping it with a tie.

“Study.”

“Boring.” He eyes the books by your bed then, along with a fresh bag of hot cheetos, he laughs softly at that, touching the baby books curiously. “Cravings?”

“God yes, bad too.”

“I wonder… will you be showing more when I get back?” You heat up at his question, brushing back messy hair, while Satoru buttons up his shirt.

“Will that suck for you, physically?” He hears the worry, which seems ridiculous, fuck you’d just be sexier.

“Shit no. You’ll look hot.”

You’re fiddling with the ties of your robes now, his words and your wobbly leg a lethal combination. “You think?”

“Fuck yeah, milf and all.”

“Shit.” You pull him down, kissing him again, he’s gripping your terry cloth robe, yanking you to him, while the fan above you both serves no purpose, the both of you are so overheated. “Thank you, I needed it. All of it.”

“The dick is that good?”

“Psh, go on.” You turn him now, shoving him.

“I feel used!? I feel like a booty call! For a horny pregnant girl.”

“You got me pregnant, so.” You pinch his ass, he gasps, feigning upset, only making your smile brighter, your heart lighter.

Then you realize.

You’re gonna miss him, shit, a guy you couldn’t stand is starting to become… comfortable, enjoyable and clearly your body…

She’s a wreck for him.

“Satoru please if you want to be with someone else, let me know.” He is sucking you off his fingers as you speak, he turns and raises a brow.

“I would let you know. But… I think having you take all my cum? Pretty fucking elite.”

“A-plus?” Your lips twitch, and his white teeth glint.

“4.3 GPA pussy.”

You both laugh, and soon you’re standing by your door, trying to not think so much, to just let it be. So you both have fun, so you…

Fuck you already want him again, what’s that.

“If you masturbate thinking of me, video it would you?”

There he is.

Fuckboi Gojo isn’t gone, he just fucked your brains out.

“Oh god. No, go on.”

Satoru chuckles a bit, slipping on his coat now, as you both stand in the doorway, your mind rushing, feeling him trickle out of you, knowing this is batshit, knowing it’s just sex. Right, sex, that’s it… agreement, sex, some sort of understanding, that’s all that this was.

Don’t get too attached, don’t fall into his blue eyes.

“Thanks for today, though.”

“Thanks for the dick or-”

“Jesus do you stop?” You shove at him now, and he pulls you against him, far, far too close. “Thank you for being here.”

His jokes calm, as he sees it, how serious you are, so unsure when you look down, and he tilts your chin up. “Of course, I’ll be back for the next ultrasound, okay?”

“Okay.” You both stand there, kissing after sex, what’s it mean?

Don’t you hate each other?

“Gonna miss me, hmm?”

“No way.” You peck a kiss on his lips though, before you can stop yourself, leaving him blinking on the porch, when you get off your tiptoes, and turn to the door. “Be safe and don’t be late for it.”

You shut the door then, leaving him aching to go back inside, to be inside you, fuck he’d stay in your heat all the time if he could, fill you over and over until you’re so full of him you can’t take it. He pauses before he turns around, wondering then, should he go on this trip?

Should he just stay?

He shakes himself out of the spell you’ve cast, as his friends start texting him, wanting to know if he’ll be ready tomorrow, he texts them back, slipping in the back of the car, where Kiyotaka is taking a nap. Satoru leans forward, with a ‘boo’ damn near earning a smack as he wakes him up, the tired man panicking.

“Relax, you’re fine buddy.” He smacks his narrow shoulder, making Kiyotaka jerk just a bit, before exhaling.

“You were in there a long time, Mr. Gojo.” He says with yawn, focusing now, putting the car on with a purr of the engine.

“Yeah I was.”

“Not as long as most of your… escapades.” Satoru glares at him now, blue eyes narrowing as his driver clears his throat.

“Are you saying I busted quick, Ijichi?”

“Sir I-”

“Hah did you bust quick?” Satoru realizes somehow he has called Suguru, and hears Sukuna cackling in the background.

“Oh fuck you three, mmkay I lasted like a champ… kind of.”

“How long was he in there?” Sukuna asks, and Ijichi looks back at Gojo, who’s shaking his head and mouthing a plea.

“I was merely kidding, Mr. Gojo was in there so long I fell asleep.”

“Thank you, as I said.”

It wasn’t that quick was it?

You sure came enough for him, god he feels you all over his fingers, his mouth, you’re soaked into his goddamn taste buds- how could you think for a minute that he’d want anyone else? He knows his reputation, but how do you not know the level of obsession you send him to more and more every time he sees you, since he’s been inside of you twice.

This was more intimate.

His hand had gripped yours, he’d looked into your eyes as he lapped at your pretty pussy, you’d taken him so good, too. Your cries are echoing in his head as he realizes his friend is talking. “Huh?”

“Pussy that good? Share with your friends, hmm?” Satoru scoffs at Sukuna, rolling his eyes.

“You wish, I’m not telling you two shit.”

“So special? Are you down so bad?” Suguru teases, making Satoru’s jaw tense just a bit.

It was just your hormones, it’s the situation, it’s just sex.

Right?

Right… no.

No sex doesn’t do this to him, this is…What is it? Is it because you’re having his baby, is it his feelings that have pent up so long for you?

“Probably not coming on our yearly trip.” He hears, clearing his throat.

“I’m not gonna miss it, think I’m old and tied down now?” His friends laugh, but his heart aches, thinking of how fucking bad he’ll miss you already.

You fix the bed, flushing as you see the rumpled sheets and blankets, before laying down in bed, covering your face as the memories hit. His touch, his tongue, his eyes just staring into yours. Was it because it was easy for the two of you, because you’re pregnant already? Convenience?

You can’t stop wracking your mind.

Not seeing him for almost a month…

Fratboy Gojo🙄: Good night, sweet dreams about this dick.

You glare at the screen.

You don’t respond, seeing him typing and typing.

Fratboy Gojo🙄: I’ll keep in touch, please if… you need to talk I’ll have my phone, okay?

You sigh now, turning on your side, while Gojo watches those three dots, finally walking into his penthouse, mind wandering to you. He wants you… in his bed, he wants to stay, to ignore his best friends, ignore the tradition. Your pussy is… a demon surely, making him hard just thinking of it again.

Sorority Brat 💦😻: I don’t wanna bother you, I’ll be fine.

Satoru frowns at that.

Fratboy Gojo🙄 I want to know how you are.

His own vulnerability makes him feel sick damn near, but you heart the message, making him simp like some idiot with a dopey grin.

Sorority Brat 💦😻Then I will keep you updated, I hope you have a lot of fun.

Guilt gnaws at him, leaving you alone, to go on some trip, while your body would surely go through more changes. He doesn’t even want to miss it, but he can’t just… he has to still have his life, right? For now, was it just… sex to you because you’re horny, and he’s there?

Did it mean more?

Sorority Brat 💦😻 Good night, Satoru.

You watch him heart the message, as your hand drifts to your tummy, thinking about the little growing baby inside you. It almost feels surreal, as do the feelings for Satoru Gojo.

Fratboy Gojo🙄 Good night, Sweets.

this one took a bit but it WAS a little longer- I'd expect chap three to be long as well! I will post a preview of that tomorrow as it's already in the works ;) (will time skip one month!) I hope you all enjoy, ty for being patient! ILYSM

Taglist #1- @jannythewriter-pt2 @gojosoups @lycoris-radiata-4-sale @cutiepi-iee @poisonousspiderlily @closerbutnevertogether @myahfig4 @shokosbunny @coq1myun @rinny27 @abibliolife @coq1myun @megumisthirdog @p4lli @turtlebangtan @webshooterrr9 @aldebrana @msqudo18 @s0ulsnatchaaa @ovela @midnaamethyste @nearlyfuckingwitches @shibataimu @msniks @missthatgirl @fantasy1nightmare0 @maddyhehehehhe @yourst3pm0mmy @haithamsbb @rentheannihilator @ilovebeansyay @lemonswirlz @dilfkentolover @evelynxxo @bkgnotsuma @suki91 @burntasian @nakiich @hyunjinsruinedpainting @miniv1x3n @minascasket @ihrtmack @contaminatedcupcake @girlwithn0j0b @tokyi999 @vamqyx @queenofthekill @verriees @vullzo @jkslaugh97

#fratboy gojo #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x you #satoru x you #gojo x reader smut #divider by cafekitsune #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk college au #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo x f!reader #satoru gojo x female reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you

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unknown-cold · 2 months ago

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Has anyone noticed this too? A girl who lost her mother.

No wonder Caitlyn was so fucking angry at this time, not only was it an attack on the memorial after losing her mother and being kidnapped and tortured etc... but her people died and children lost their mothers, just like this girl. And Cait was definitely feeling her sadness and fear.

This also reminds me of those people who say Caitlyn changed just bc her mother died, or how can she change just bc of one person's death? Well idiots IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!!

Like “Oh but she’s from Piltover, she gets all the luxuries that ppl of Zaun don’t” burying your mam in a nice casket does not make the pain any easier to deal with assholes!! she went through sm and people still overlooked her trauma as if she shouldn't be sad and angry bc she's an enforcer, rich, and an adult. WHAT STUPIDITY IS THIS? Seriously what does all this have to do with the character not being traumatized? These people should study psychology and educate themselves a little.

Like people forget this all happened to her in the span of less than a week. She went from a peaceful, pretty sheltered life to being terrorised by Jinx with almost no reprieve.

Video edited by: @mirellvi on TikTok

These people are asking and others are angry why Caitlyn has changed, this girl has been through hell bc of Jinx.

Jinx didn't show any mercy to Caitlyn. And Caitlyn has every right to hate her!! People who overlook what Jinx has done to her are so annoying. The change that happened to Caitlyn It did not start when her mother was killed.

She is gets more hate than the actual villains, and she did less harm than any other leader of Piltover or Zaun. People who excuse characters like Viktor, Sevika or Silco and even Ambessa, but they draw the line on Caitlyn?? they just wanna hate her tbh. Like they don’t comment on the bad and worst things that (Silco, Viktor, SINGED) did

Silco flooded the lanes with shimmer, pay the enforcers to 💀 zaunites and kid / nap children to work on his shimmer factories, and he was a perpetrator of his people suffering. All this and people are justifying his actions, well what about Caitlyn!?

And now someone will come with their stupid excuse and say “Silco is oppressed and wanted to free Zaun” Well being oppressed does not justify him oppressing his people too. Like where is the independence you guys are talking about, when he hurt his people to obey him, and force children to work in dangerous factories and pay enforcers to kill anyone who opposes him, why didn't he pay enforcers to work with him for benefit Zaun, if he really cared about people in Zaun!? And of course there is no need to talk about Ambessa and Singed, the most evil characters who did selfish things, and Viktor as well. But People Don't Care🙄

(I love Viktor btw) but what he did was so bad and terrible!! way worse than what or any other character.

But again people don't care what bad things Viktor did or would do, is it bc he's from Zaun, or bc he's a man? Anything goes... So I really want to know what's wrong with these people who hate Caitlyn so much.

Like it's okay to not like her and not accept her character, but spreading false information about her like “she gassed all of Zaun or that she does dictatorial things” which is absolutely not true. or worse, insulting and cursing people who love Caitlyn and spreading lies about them like they support corrupt regimes or that they are part of the KKK or that they support police brutality in real life bc they love a fictional character. This is so fucking crazy and I sick of it!! Like what makes these people think that I would be act like a fictional character in real life? They really need therapy.

Like they criticizing her bc they feel morally superior bc she's an enforcer and rich?? This is really so ridiculous.

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mariasont · 1 year ago

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Give This Old Man a Heart Attack - A.H

a/n: incredibly self-indulgent per usual because i'm the biggest cry baby to ever exist

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you make a mistake that almost gets you killed and hotch has a few choice words about it

warnings: slight angst, happy endings, established relationship, you're in trouble, suggestive ending nothing crazy, hotch is a sucker and gives in way too easily to you

wc: 0.9k

You were an idiot. You were so utterly stupid, and you could feel the heat coursing through you, prickling at your fingertips and scorching your ears. You had braced yourself for this moment all day, but the sheer anger in Hotch's eyes was something no amount of bracing could shield you from.

You were quite accustomed to his eerily tranquil expression, often misleading, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Today though, you were the focus of that discerning stare.

"Do you understand that gravity of your actions today?"

You were fighting every urge to cry. Confrontation had always been your Achillies' heel, a fact that seemed laughable given your line of work.

You weren't talking about the type of confrontation that came with gunning down unsubs or running into burning buildings. No, it was the intimate kind, the kind that involved the disappointment in the eyes of those you cared about, those you respected, especially him.

So here you stood, tears simmering at the edges of your vision, your hands fidgeting and folding over themselves, knuckles whitening with the pressure.

Your lips parted, ready to speak, to defend yourself, but the rising lump in your throat held the words captive. Silence seemed like the better choice, so you offered a nod instead.

Hotch's hand briefly obscured his face, thumb and middle finger pressing against the bridge of his nose, as he cast a handful of documents onto his desk. They landed haphazardly, a chaotic reflection of the mistakes you made on this case.

"You could've gotten killed." Each word was forced out between clenched teeth. Never a good sign. "In fact, you were this close."

You felt his assessment was inflated, but now was definitely not the right time to point that out. You swallowed the rising retort and cautiously shifted a fraction closer to the desk, eyes flicking to the closed door behind you.

"I'm sorry, Aaron," you said softly, voice betraying the slightest fracture. "It won't happen again."

The sound of your strained syllables caused his head to jerk up. Contrarily, you recoiled, bowing your head into your chest as you feigned interested in the carpet's intricate threads. It was an interesting color.

You failed to register him circling the desk. Not until the space between you was nearly nonexistent. The toe of his shoes just within your field of view. They were semi-brogue oxfords. His favorite.

The accumulated emotions of the week finally broke through, your shoulders trembling as you frantically brushed away the mortifying tears with your sleeve, only to feel his hands on your shoulders, drawing you into his chest.

"No, no," you protested, but the resistance in your voice was absent in your actions, as you found yourself easily giving into the warmth of his chest. "Don't feel bad for me just because I'm crying."

He said nothing, just a faint hum that filled the space, the vibrations sending ripples across your cheek.

"You—, you were reprimanding me," you paused to sniffle, "and I deserve to be reprimanded. I know what I did was stupid."

"It was." His hand lay on your back, thumb circling lightly through your dress shirt, nearly burning through the fabric. "But I'm not going to continue to berate you when I feel as though you've learned your lesson."

"You weren't berating me," you mumble against his shirt.

"I made you cry."

When you looked up, your saw the concern etched on his face, brows pinched, a frown marring his handsome face. His hands cradled your face, thumbs gently clearing the tears as you breathed out a sigh.

"I think you know me well enough to know that it doesn't take much to make me cry."

This was true. You kept your emotions were always close to the surface, whether from happiness, sadness, or sheer frustration.

Once you had sobbed over the unequal lengths of your shoelace bows. Morgan then proceeded to ask if you had ever been tested for autism.

"It doesn't make it any more disheartening to see," he said, shifting his hands to rest on your shoulders. He looked tired and it made you want to cry all over again.

"Would you feel that way if I was Reid?" You asked. It was a loaded question. One you peppered him with often.

You had strived to draw clear lines between your professional and personal lives, but moments like this made it very difficult.

He didn't even bother you with a response, and he didn't need to. You knew the answer.

Another quick look over your shoulder, and you pressed a swift kiss to his lips. There was a moment of hesitation from him, the stickler for rules that he is, but soon his restraint gave way, his hand seeking you with a desperate intensity.

He drew back just enough to study your face, like he was trying to commit every detail to memory, like he was making sure you were really there.

"You really scared me today," he confessed, your foreheads resting together as your eyes locked.

"I know."

"Please don't do that again," he implored, pausing only to plant another quick kiss on your upper lip. "This old man's heart can only take so much."

You beamed at him with a cheeky smile. "I can't make any guarantees."

As you headed for the door, he sent a quick slap to your ass, drawing out a bubbly giggle that vibrated through the room.

That old man's heart definitely might give out after what you had planned for tonight.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #Spotify

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hiraethwa · 5 months ago

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purposefully

for ellie @nekozaki <3, hope you enjoy it! i took some liberations with your wishes (part of the hq x reader secret santa exchange by @lale-txt) pairing: miya atsumu x reader cw: hurt/comfort, cursing, atsumu is careless with your feelings, mutual pining, confession wc: 2k

miya atsumu, starting setter of the star-studded msby black jackals lineup, is gifted with looks and charms of a god, graced with sculpted features and a chiseled jawline, his body honed through years of training and experience.

you don’t doubt for a second that his physique is what draws men and women to him alike, and to be fair, he could be so unbelievably charming when he wants to be. but when it comes to you, his dear roommate, he is so damn infuriating, driving you up the wall with every little thing he does.

there’s always a clever quip from atsumu awaiting you, as if he could not bear not having the last word, or a teasing remark when you do anything nice for him, a “did you fall in love with me?” or “your loverboy would be jealous if he knows about this” that you have learnt to ignore, not giving him the satisfaction of your reaction.

every time it irks you, hanging him out to dry for the next day or two, until your forgetfulness comes creeping in, and the vicious cycle repeats itself all over again.

if you had a choice, you would not have moved in with him to start with, but you were in a rough financial situation, and osamu had offered you a solution—cheap rent and nice apartment with a catch—having his annoying twin brother as a housemate.

you had taken it, since it was miles better than moving to a rundown apartment with a shoddy heating system and questionable neighbors.

atsumu had been nice and courteous in the beginning, helping osamu move you into the apartment and making sure you had everything you needed to feel at home, to the point where you were confused as to what osamu meant when he called his brother an insufferable idiot.

it had gone swimmingly, with the two of you getting along almost scarily well as housemates, leaving osamu in disbelief when he shows up at your apartment unannounced to find you two huddled together in front of the tv watching horror films when you both hated them.

he finds you making dinner in the kitchen the second time with atsumu obediently following your orders, and finds it hilarious that he is trying so hard to comply with your instructions when his twin is a hopeless mess when it comes to cooking. osamu bursts out laughing, and atsumu ending up chasing his twin who is dying of laughter in circles until you snap at them both.

the third time he stumbles into the apartment with extra food he ended up making, only to witness you argue with atsumu whether your coworker was flirting with you, an unreadable expression on his twin’s face. osamu just interrupts the argument with a knowing smile, peace offering held up in his hand.

that was one of the last times you hung out with atsumu, before something in him changed, as if a switch had flipped in him, taking the miya atsumu you knew and fell for away, leaving you with a cocky and provocative atsumu—the one that osamu had tried to warn you about.

it was a hell of an adjustment, getting used to this current atsumu who returned to serial dating and bringing his dates back to the apartment with its thin walls, awkwardly interacting with the ones who wander into the kitchen in his clothes in the morning, the sight of them torturing you more than the sounds at night did, reminding you of a time when it was you in his hoodies and sweaters.

worst of all, atsumu did not seem like he felt bad in the slightest about bringing his various one night stands home, not failing to greet you every day with his charming lopsided smile and a ‘morning, sweetheart’, which had grown to be maddening.

there wasn’t any sign of things between you going south, the friendship you had formed with him going down the drain. you didn’t understand it, whatever made him change so drastically without any warning, and it drives you insane.

because miya atsumu is insufferable, and you just happen to be hopelessly in love with him.

because there was a time when you were close, with inside jokes that even osamu was not apart of, late night talks at 2am about your hopes and dreams and everything in between, not so secret glances thrown between you. a time when you believed for a moment that atsumu, despite his well known playboy persona, might have felt the same way towards you.

because in those short months when everything went right, you had truly seen miya atsumu, beheld him in all of his fame and glory, that facade of swagger and charm, and past it to see the sweet man underneath.

but atsumu has always had a short temper, and the same holds true tonight, as the brawl unfolds before your eyes in slow motion. his arm unfurls, muscles rippling with force as his fist makes impact with the other man’s cheek, sending him backwards into the crowd.

he grabs ahold of the man’s collar, barely restrained anger fueling his punches into his face, leaving it a bloody mess.

“miya!” the shrill scream that leaves your lips is unrecognizable, as your body moves on its own, struggling to hold his arm back with everything you have. osamu jumps into the fray, forcefully separating the two of them.

this is bad. it looks bad, especially on atsumu’s part, as if he had assaulted the poor guy without reason.

“get atsumu out of here, we will deal with the rest,” osamu tells you, and you could only nod, wide-eyed and in shock at the events that just unfolded.

thankfully, atsumu does not protest as you tug him away from the crowd, escaping the club and returning to the comfort of your home.

he barely registers the change in scenery from the dimly lit club to the bright city lights illuminating your way home, eyes focused on you, all determined and purposeful, your hand wrapped tight around his, as if you were afraid that you might lose him in the christmas crowd.

he wonders if you knew the reason he had lost his temper back there, if you heard the unsavory words that the guy said about you.

the dull throb in his right knuckles goes ignored as he allows you to pull him along, into the train station, onto the line that brings you home, just a mere twenty minute ride from here.

he does not speak, afraid of breaking the fragile silence, a temporary unspoken truce.

the buildings fly by outside the train as you rest your head against the glass, staring out into the distance. the lump in his throat stays with him, involuntarily and fully aware of where your skin still touches his skin, the contact searing hot against his wrist.

he swallows, wishing to run away and stay here with you forever, all at the same time.

you drag him onwards, out of the train, out into the fresh air of the cool night, the skies stretching above you, reminiscent of the feeling within him that expands and expands with no end in sight, that spiraled out of his control, scaring him to death.

love. it scares him. the relatively unfamiliar concept of caring about someone out of choice, unlike his brotherly love for osamu that was forged on the basis of familial ties, or his love towards his parents ever since he could remember.

you scare him—the worry in your dark eyes as you notice the split skin on his knuckles, scolding him for his rashness, pulling the first aid kit out. the tenderness in your hands as you carefully dab antiseptic ointment on the raw skin with a cotton ball, asking him if it hurts.

why, why do you bother?

the words die in his throat as he feels a prickling sensation behind his eyes. he shakes his head at your question, hoping to blink the feeling away, before the tears well up.

why do you still bother, after how awful he is to you?

but then you pull away, leaving him cold without your touch on his skin, shooting him a small smile and asking if he wanted a snack.

“why do you still bother? you don’t have to be nice to me just because we live together.”

you sigh, a loud exhale through your nostrils, seemingly frustrated with him. “it’s on purpose, you know.”

“what?” he does not understand.

“i’m loving you on purpose.” your hands pause on the cabinets, hesitating on the next words spilling out of your mouth, words that have long smoldered within you. “maybe one day i will stop falling in love with you, but my heart is stubbornly yours tonight.”

silence stretches in the space between you. your traitorous eyes flit over to the blonde whose mouth is agape, staring back at you in surprise and disbelief.

you chuckle nervously. “what, cat got your smartass tongue? don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming, i thought i was being obvious enough despite my efforts to hide it”

atsumu still appears to be speechless so you forge on, emboldened by how good it feels to get this off your chest after holding it in for so long.

“i know you don’t feel the same way, so don’t worry about it. i am working on getting over you, i just– i haven’t found a way yet, and my heart still clings on to the atsumu that i fell in love with in the beginning.”

the stubborn thing refuses to let go of the atsumu that you had the privilege of knowing.

“then don’t.” it stutters in your ribcage, confused by his words, his admittance. “because i am a stupid fool, and i–i love you too.”

“it’s not funny, if you are trying to mess with me.” you beg for your heart to still, for hope to delay its flight—you are not sure if you would be able to recover this time if he is fooling around.

“i am not– fuck. i messed up. i have been a terrible person, sleeping around to try and get over my feelings for you but it’s no excuse.” atsumu kneels before you, sincerity shining in his warm chocolate eyes, offering you the truth, admitting his mistakes. “when i realized that i am in love with you, it scared the shit out of me. i have never felt such immense feelings towards another person in my life before, and so i ran away.”

“i fucked up and i am sorry, but if you will allow it, i will make it up to you, please. just one chance, i will never make you doubt my love for you ever again.”

his touch burns, sets you on fire, as you get on your knees before him, holding his hands tight, as your heart soars, despite the hurt that he inflicted on you unknowingly. “one chance, that’s all you get.”

his lips spread into a large grin as he tackles you to the ground in a hug, mischief dancing in his eyes as he leans down, lips ghosting over your skin. “does that mean i can finally do this–”

you beat him to the kiss, pulling on his neck and joining your lips before he could finish his sentence. you smile into it, feeling satisfaction from his surprise and even more when he breaks away in incredulity.

“that’s a yes, by the way.” you chortle from your rare successful attempt of shutting atsumu up. he only makes a noise of protest before he reels you back in for another kiss.

#miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fluff #miya atsumu angst #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu fanfic #miya atsumu imagine #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #divider by nectardaddy #hq x reader secret santa 24

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rueclfer · 10 months ago

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shut up, my moms calling // touya todoroki pt two

a/n: req from one of yall who sent in multiple prompts a lil bit ago!!! hi anon i hope u see this <3 also not to be lazy but i'm gonna piggyback this req off of this touya fic of mine as a pt 2 to save myself the contextualizing.. so read that one too lmao.

also i def got ambitious and FAR from the req but i still hope you enjoyed heh..

"Scoot over, Touya, you're taking up the entire bed." You huff, actively elbowing him in the chest.

"You mean my bed?" He whines. "This is why I never want to share the bed with you. You're a blanket AND pillow hog, and I always get shoved all the way to the edge.

"Get your ass on the floor then." You shove him harder, in which he retaliates by grabbing your wrists.

"I always sleep on the fucking floor. Either you deal with sharing a bed, or you take the floor this time."

"So annoying." You mutter under your breath, wriggling out of his grasp and accepting your defeat.

It was nearly 2am and you two had not seen each other all day, which resulted in him being clingier than usual, of course. Touya would never admit it, but you had him all figured out. Quality time may be his top love language, but when that love-tank is low, he immediately defaults to physical touch, making it nearly impossible for you to get away from him if you really wanted to,

After much adjustments, you two silently settled on a position where your face was pressed against his chest, facing each other with your arms wrapped around one another and legs intertwined.

"Can you breathe?" He mutters against your forehead.

"Mmhm." You sigh against his chest in content. "You're so warm and you don't smell like shit for once."

"Stop talking." He hums, letting himself run his hand through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp.

You could melt at this moment. With your fingers drawing circles on his back paired with his own in your hair, you could feel yourself savoring this moment forever, locking it in your memories.

It had been a couple of weeks since you two exchanged your first kisses at the river, and not a single word about it had been uttered about it since. There was no way to bring it up to him again without feeling awkward, but it had plagued your mind everyday- multiple times a day. If you could slap yourself across the face every time you let the memory fluster you, you would. After all, your friendship continued as if nothing happened.

"Did Fuyumi tell you?" You whisper, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Tell me what?" His eyes remain closed.

"That Keigo kid asked me out the other day."

His eyes pop open and meet yours. All motion stops. He snakes his hand from your scalp to grab your shoulder and leans back to get a better view of your face.

"The fuck? Keigo? The other day?"

You nod your head in response.

"Why the hell did you tell Fuyumi before me?" His eyebrows furrow.

"I don't know! Keep your voice down." You hush. "It was a girl thing." You shrug.

"A girl thing..." He rolls his eyes. "And what did you tell him?"

You nervously fiddle with the back of his shirt, piling it in fistfuls.

"I said I would get back to him about it." You nervously chuckle. "Is that bad? It caught me off guard so I didn't know what to say."

He huffs out a chuckle before closing the space between you two again, moving his hand to your lower back and tracing a finger against the skin exposed by your shirt lifting

"Good. Tell him it's a no next time you see him."

"What? But what if it's a yes?"

"It's not. He's an asshole and an idiot." He yawns into your hairline, and rubs his cheek against your forehead.

You pinch the skin on his waist, bringing his attention back to you. "You don't get to decide that for me, dipshit."

"Never in a million years will he fucking deserve you, Y/N. Fuyumi probably told you the same thing." He returns the pinch, pulling back once again.

He was right. She did in fact tell you the same exact thing.

"Sounds like you're just jealous. What, one kiss and all of the sudden you're in love with me?" You tease. "Can't handle seeing me with another guy?"

You didn't know what you were doing, or how those words slipped off your tongue. You bit your cheeks in regret the moment you felt his body stiffen against yours.

"Jealous? As fucking if. I'm just being a good best friend. Do what you want, but if he breaks your heart then don't come back crying to me."

Just like that, he easily averted the mention of your kiss- which of course annoyed you.

"Fine. Let me actually text him right now. Maybe as my bestest friend ever, you can help me draft it." You feel around under your pillow for your phone.

You open your text chain with Keigo, hovering your thumbs over the keyboard. "Alright let's see." You began reading out loud as you type. "Hey Keigo, thought about it, and I think you're really sweet and so sexy and would love to-"

Before you could continue, Touya slaps the phone out of your hand, letting it hit the ground behind him with a harsh thud.

"Touya!" You scold after a loud gasp of shock.

You shove him hard onto his back, swinging a leg over him in order to reach down and attempt to retrieve your phone from the other side of the bed. You couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction from this obvious outburst of jealousy. Maybe in some sense, it validated the thread of tension hanging between you two that he had seemingly been ignoring.

"I knew it, you jealous fuckin-" You start before the bedroom door swings open, causing you to duct down under the covers.

"Touya? Y/N? Are you guys okay in there? I heard someth-" Rei begins, stopping the moment she sees the abandoned floor mattress next to the bed and your silhouette straddling Touya.

"Mom!" Touya whines, nearly shoving you off of him to jump out of bed. "Knock next time, please." He huffs as he bends down to pick up your phone, tossing it on the bed next to you.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry guys." She covers her mouth in shock.

Rei flips on the light switch and audibly releases a sigh of relief to confirm that you two were indeed still fully clothed.

"Do you guys....have... you know." She begins, stammering over her words. "Are you guys being safe? You know, I don't care what you do as long as you're both safe, okay? Also, please be a little quieter. I know it's a weekend, but everyone is sleeping."

Your eyes widen in horror after grasping onto what she was insinuating. You smash your face into the comforter in embarrassment.

"Rei, I promise you we weren't..." You pop your head up and wave your hands out in denial. "We were just talking and Touya just.." You motion to him. "Tell her, dumbass!" You throw a pillow at him.

"We are not having sex, mom. Y/N's just being stupid." He presses his lips together in a tight line. "But we will use protection if we do. Thanks."

"Oh my god, but we're not going to." You quickly quip in. "I promise we'll keep it down. So sorry for waking you."

You wanted to melt into the floor and disintegrate all together. You shove your face in your hands to hide your humiliation. Your body was hot all over and were suddenly sweating through your pajama shirt.

"Great! Alright then. We'll talk more in the morning." She nervously chuckles. "Goodnight guys, and please keep it down."

The moment the door clicks shut, you turn and slap his shoulder.

"What the fuck?!" You whisper-yell. "But we will use protection if we do? Are you insane? I can never sleep over again, that was so embarrassing." You cry.

"Chill out, it's fine." He laughs, picking up the thrown pillows off of the floor. "Embarrassing yeah, but would you be surprised if I told you that wasn't the first time she tried giving me the talk? About you specifically? At least you don't have to hear that shit."

"About me?!" You exclaim. "Shut the fuck up, no way?"

Touya settles back into bed on his back with his hands behind his head while you sit criss-crossed right next to him, cooling down from the embarrassment.

"Mmhm. Like twice already." He nods his head.

"Does she know that we're not dating or anything?" You cock an eyebrow. "She definitely knows that, right?"

"Well yeah, no shit." He shoots you a sideways glance. "But you don't have to be dating to...do all that."

"What does she say about me?"

"I don't know, of a whole bunch of bullshit I already know?" He begins tapping his fingers on your knee. "Like 'oh, Touya, Y/N's really sweet and we love them, but you have to treat them nice and I know teenage feelings are complicated, but if you really like them and want to ever do anything more, just have really good communication and practice safe sex. Always!"

"Rei has such a way with words." You say through gritted teeth, finally laying down besides him, both now looking up at the glow in the dark stars plastered on the ceiling.

"Yeah, so if you ever wanted to do another 'science experiment,' she got us condoms. It's in the first drawer on the nightstand next to you."

Your jaw drops and you slap a hand over to cover your gaping mouth. The heat returns to your face.

"She did not." You choke out, snapping your head towards him.

"She did." He chuckles. "I told her you literally just got your first kiss and didn't think you would need them anytime soon, but ya know she likes to be careful I guess."

"Wait, you told her we kissed?"

You scooted closer to Touya, now looking at him on your side while he remained on his back looking upwards.

"Mom-senses are kinda scary. When you left the next day, she said we were acting weird and grilled it outta me." He shrugs. "I was honest. Guess that's what triggered this safe sex bullshit."

"God dammit, Touya. So she 100% thinks we're together." You press your lips together.

"You act like that's the worst thing in the world." He shoots you a side glance. You said nothing.

Since that night, you often thought about the possibility of being "more than friends" with Touya, but you couldn't help but shake off the lingering thought that maybe the "science experiment" of a kiss was all that it was for him- nothing but an experiment. You weren't too sure what to do with the possibility that it was something more meaningful for you in that case.

"Anyways, she probably has her own thoughts and opinions, but I told her we're not."

"I see." You mutter. "What are your thoughts and opinions?"

"About... being together? Like that?" He glances over to you.

"Keigo asking me out, the kiss, and your mom thinking we're together and stuff, everything in between."

You watch his face carefully as he takes a second to think about his answers. You see the gears turning in his head, but not quite sure what would come out of his mouth.

"You first." He quickly spits out.

You deadpan. "You know what? Nevermind. Goodnight, dipshit." You turn around, facing away from him and pull the covers up to your chin.

"Okay okay okay, come back. I'll spill my heart out for you if that's what you really wanna hear at 2am right now." You could hear the annoyance in his voice, bringing a smile back to your face.

You cheerily turn back around to see him back on his side, facing you now.

"Perfect. Go on." You say, shoving your leg in between his own.

"So Keigo." He starts.

"Mmhm."

"Annoys the living shit out of me. Genuinely. And I'd hate to see you waste your time on that sorry motherfucker, but if you actually do like him, which I don't see how, do what you want. I come first though, don't forget it. Best friend priorities."

"See, I knew you were jealous." You smile. "I don't think I was considering it anyways, but nice to hear your big boy thoughts about it, you cutiepie."

"That's what I thought. Why the fuck would you need him when you have me?" He smirks.

You roll your eyes. "Okay, now tell me how you feel about your mom thinking we're bonking."

"Idiot." He chuckles. "I don't really give a fuck about what she thinks? We got free condoms- use them, don't use them, take some for Keigo if you ever wanted to do some charity work, I don't care, but she can think what she wants to think."

"What about your thoughts on us being together?" You mutter. "Like hypothetically just to humor her suspicions."

He stops and stares at you for a second, biting his bottom lip as he thinks.

"Uh. Let me get back to you about that one."

You wave it off. "Okay fine, so then the kiss."

"I want you to go first for that, and you can't get mad at me because the kiss was for you... mostly."

You hesitated for a moment, sighing in place of an answer. You weren't quite sure how much, if any, information to reveal about your true feelings about it all. "The kiss... was... definitely a kiss?" You breathe out awkwardly "It was nice. Really nice. And I enjoyed it."

"Okay. Ditto and ditto." He nods, motioning for you to continue.

"And I don't necessarily know what this means, but I think about it a lot. Like. A lot." You emphasize. "I don't know, maybe it means nothing."

"Okay...so you wanna do it again?"

It seemed like your brain short circuited for a moment.

"Hah?" You blink.

"Well, I think about it a lot too. And I also don't really know what that means or how to feel about it, so maybe... we can do it for science again...a 2.0?" You hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Like do it again to confirm our final thoughts?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Yup."

"I see."

"Only if you want. I don't really care either way. Up to you." He quips. "I just.. am confused."

You roll your eyes. "Don't even try to act so nonchalant when you're the one asking for me to kiss your stupid ass again. You want me so bad." You joke to alleviate the thick fog of tension filling the room.

"Yeah, want you to shut the fuck up." He mutters in an annoyed tone. "Yes or no."

"Yes, fine." You squeak out, tensing when his hand meets your cheek. "I guess it would be good.. for science."

"Okay cool." He huffs. "Relax." He says under his breath, pulling you in closer to him. "We know what we're doing now, don't we?"

You reciprocate his movements, letting your hand rest against the side of his face, swiping your thumb back and forth on the skin under his eye.

"I'm nervous." You whisper, glancing back and forth between his lips and eyes.

The tip of your noses were grazing each other's, and lips just mere inches from meeting.

"Still? Well don't be. It's just me." He lightly rubs his nose against your own, eyes glued on your lips, and occasionally glances back up to meet your eyes. "And we've done this before, remember?"

He stares at you through a beat of silence and drags a thumb across your bottom lip. "Don't freak out."

He closes the gap between you two before you could respond, instantly melting under his touch.

Compared to your first kiss together, this one felt hotter, needier, and more desperate from the way he pulled you even closer to his body by the waist and locked your legs in between his own, as if you were in for the devouring.

You were tense, but feeling his hand tenderly cup your cheek made you feel a bit more secure, letting yourself lean deeper into the kiss.

Chills ran up your spine the moment his other hand met the exposed skin lower back, playing with the hem of your tee shirt.

"Is that okay?" He asks against your lips, letting his fingers start to crawl up under the fabric.

You nod your head in silence as your stomach erupts in flutters and flames, heightening every sensation of him exploring your bare skin.

"This is where you're the most ticklish." He smiles against your lips, moving his hand up the curve of your waist.

"This is where I kicked you on the swing set when we were 13." Rubbing the soft space between your shoulder blades, pecking your lips in between words. "Sorry, by the way."

"I forgive you." Your breath out a laugh before pressing your lips back to his.

"And you have a freckle right here." He grips the space where your spine meets your neck.

"How do you know that?"

"I'm observant."

Your own hand makes its way to the back of his head from his cheek. Your fingers become entangled with the hair on the nape of his neck, lightly twirling a lock between your pointer and thumb. You tug on the silvery locks, gifting you a throaty, hungry groan from him.

You snap back in shock, meeting his own set of wide eyes.

"Okay let's stop there." He coughs, snaking his arm back from under your shirt and turning on his back to dart his eyes away from your own.

You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your nervous laughter after you ground yourself back to reality.

"Shut up." He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"Sorry. That good, huh?"

"No shit." He huffs, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Anyways, back to the point, horn-dog." He faces you.

You were lucky the only source of light was the haze of moonlight shining through the window on the other side of the room. If there was any more light, you were sure he would be able to see your embarrassingly flushed face.

"Right, the point." You cough. "So... thoughts?"

"You want me to be real with you?"

"Duh."

"I don't know who you've been practicing on for these past couple of weeks, but that was good. So much better than the first time- not saying you did a shit job, but yeah a lot better."

You blush at the half-assed compliment and bring your hand up to his forehead to flick him right between the eyes. "The other thoughts, dumbass. How do you feel?"

"I'm not sure if I want to say...yet." He continues, gauging your reaction.

"What?" You groan. "You said you'd be real with me."

"Well, what do you think I'll say? Or hoping?" He cocks an eyebrow.

That it feels real. That you want me as much as I want you. That this won't change anything between us. That this isn't a science experiment. That you're in love with me.

"I don't know." You shrug. "I guess I just want to know if I could ever be relationship material? Like after the kiss and knowing me, am I hopeless or what?"

"That's why you asked about us hypothetically being together?"

"Uh, yes?" You bit down on your bottom lip.

"Oh." He mumbled, shifting awkwardly.

A beat of silence passes while he thinks for a moment.

"I think that Keigo might be the smartest fucker out there right now. It pains me to see you act like a lovesick puppy for people who don't see how cool and great and how much of a catch you are and I'm sorry that Keigo just so happens to be someone that does." He sighs.

"Actually, scratch that." He continues. "I'm the smartest fucker out there. I've been known how fucking great you are." He laughs. "Yeah fuck Keigo. He's has good taste, but fuck him because I've been doing it first."

You chuckle a bit, your heart swelling at the turn-around of a compliment. "Yeah, but at least he likes me-like me. Enough to ask me out."

Touya goes quiet, lips pressed together in a tight line.

"Well to answer your question fully, I think my mom is onto something."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Like if I could've been better at communication, then we would've been together a long time ago."

"As in..." You start, waiting for him to continue as the air is sucked out of your lungs.

"As in, I like you-like you."

"You like me-like me... as in have feelings for me?" You draw out, staring at him in shock.

He nods in response.

"Since the first time we kissed?"

"Since the first time we met, actually."

Your mouth gapes open with no words coming out, digesting this sudden confession.

"You're fucking with me right now?" You whisper, clutching onto fistfuls of the comforter.

"I wish, but I'm not." He sighs, reaching a finger up to push a stray hair behind your ear. "I wasn't going to say anything, but you're such a dumbass who always talks down on yourself and it makes me sick. You have to know that there is at least one person in this world who would burn everything else down if it was your happiness on the line. I really fucking like you and I'd rather die than let that ruin our friendship, okay?"

In this moment, both of you were holding your own breaths, not quite sure if any sudden movement might burst this moment between you. Touya inherently knew it was time to tell you how he felt and that he couldn't go the rest of his life scaring away potential lovers while being terrified to claim the position himself. You, on the other hand, agreed that if anything did jeopardize your relationship with him, you wouldn't forgive yourself.

"I'm scared. I don't want to ruin our friendship either." You choke out with tears beginning to flood your eyes, causing his own to widen in panic.

"Hey whoa, what are you crying for?" He scoots in closer to you, holding you against his chest. "Seriously Y/N, I tell you I like you, and you start crying? God, just call me a piece of shit already." He chuckles, wrapping his arm around you.

"It's not that." You muffled into his now tear stained shirt. "It's that I like you too and I don't know what to do about it, but I don't want to ruin us or risk anything that will."

He takes a sharp intake of air, and continues to rub circles against your back.

"Well, I'll have you as much as you'll give me. Don't worry about it, okay? I love you- as my closest friend, favorite human being, my other half. All of it."

"What do we do?" You whisper, looking up at him.

"Uhh...sleep and talk about it tomorrow? Sit on it?"

"You think I can fucking sleep now?" You whine. "What's wrong with you?"

"You're cute." He smiles, moving his hand from your back to your cheek, rubbing away the dampness of the tears. "Alright then you tell me, what do we do? The ball is in your court."

"What would it look like if we started dating?" You asked.

"Exactly this? More kissing? Putting those condoms to use?"

You slap his shoulder. "Fucking idiot."

"Okay. Then, what if we don't start dating?" You huff, your face burning now.

"Same thing maybe? Less kissing? Condoms collecting dust?" He shrugs. "I guess I'll keep taking the floor for sleepovers?"

"You're not going to try to go out with anyone else?"

"I'll just wait for you."

You pout at the simple tenderness of his answer. You wanted to stay like this forever- close to him, the warmth of his body radiating into your own, your hands all over each other. You knew that it was possible too. To stay here.

"I think, maybe we can do it." You finalize. "Or try to, at least."

"Really?" He tips your chin upwards to meet his surprised eyes. "You really want to try?"

"I do. I'm scared, and I think you are too so if we put our fears together, we can't fuck this up, right?" You nervously joke. "For the sake of Rei too. Let's prove her right."

He leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead, simultaneously reaching over to your hand and locking his pinky in with yours, solidifying an unspoken promise to one another.

I love you. You're my best friend. You're my other half. We'll always try.

#im sorry i can never write anything casually #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha #touya todoroki x reader #todoroki touya #touya todoroki #dabi #dabixreader #dabi x reader #mha dabi #dabi todoroki

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citricacidprince · 7 months ago

Note

Does relativity falls Ford still wipe Stans memory's? And if so what is the aftermath?

Yes!! Ford still does erase Stan’s memory, I even did a drawing of it right here cause thinking about it hurts me soooo bad hehe

As for the aftermath, I have sooooo many thoughts

Stan still gets his memory back like in the show, however due to being 13 I like to think he didn’t come out completely unscathed. After all your mind is still growing at that age so i bet you ain’t gonna get out of a mind wipe without any side effects.

His mind quickly remembers everything he WANTS to remember or anything he considered important, however things Stan would rather forget or didn’t think were very important took longer to come back to him, if at all.

Here’s a quick doodle I did of Stan post series not remembering who his dad was for like 3 days because I thought of that randomly and it made me feel ill :)

Stanley also begins to struggle in school, but like, 3 times worst before. Again, the memory wipe wasn’t very kind to him education wise, that stuff didn’t come back to him very easily. Stanford, who is easily the world most guilt ridden child, is dead set on making sure Stan can pass every grade with him, even if Stan has to cheat off his papers. Stan insists that Ford doesn’t have to go out of his way to help him but Ford won’t take no for an answer.

After Weirdmageddon the twins are attached at the hip and get really codependent on eachother and that doesn’t ease up as the years go on. Stanley feels more dumb the years go on but he feels happy that least he has his brother with him and Ford doesn’t treat him like an idiot. Stanford is constantly fretting over Stan, making sure he’s around if Stan has any memory lapses, or about to tackle someone like a rabid dog if they try fight Stan. It’s not the most healthy codependent relationship, but the two feel safe with each other and after all they’ve been through they can be a bit unhealthily codependent, as a treat <3

Filbrick still kicks Stanley out of the house when he’s 17, this time because he was furious at the fact Stanford wasn’t going to be able to graduate due to low grades and too many write ups. Upset that his ‘smart kid’ who was supposed to make him millions is failing school because he’s too busy babying his twin brother who is going nowhere in life.

The main difference between the show here is that Stanford doesn’t even hesitate to walk out the door with Stanley, even when his dad tells him to go back inside. Ford almost lost his brother forever when he was a kid due to letting his father’s words bleed into his head, he refuses to ever let that happen again.

Stanley tearily calls Dipper and Mabel and tries to explain what happened before Stanford takes the phone and talks for Stan, explaining what happened and asking if the two could stay with them. Dipper and Mabel don’t even need to think about it, instantly fussing over the two as their voices overlap each others asking if the two are okay, if they need money, do they need to come get them, etc etc. Stanley insists that they’re fine and he’ll just take the 2-3 day drive to Oregon just like he did last summer when he got his permit.

The next morning their mother sneaks them into their old home and lets them take whatever they want and a wad of money she had hidden away, telling the two that she’s sorry but she was backed into a corner and didn’t know what else to do. Gave the boys a kiss on the cheek and ushered them out before their father caught on that they were there.

The drive is pretty quiet, the only disturbances being Ford asking Stan if he needs a break from driving to which Stan immediately turns down, and Stan guiltily saying that Ford didn’t have to leave with him to which Ford immediately shuts down that train of thought and says that where ever Stan goes, he’ll go.

When the two arrive at Gravity Falls Dipper and Mabel instantly squeeze the two to death, being nonstop worried ever since they got the call. Mabel helped the boys unpack while Dipper made a couple low threats into the phone and soon enough he had custody over the twins. (His blood boils when he thinks about how Filbrick didn’t even hesitate to give custody of Stanley, but fought about Stanford. Makes him happy that he never met the man in person.)

Stanley and Stanford finish off High School in Gravity Falls. Ford begins college courses online and Stan begins working at the Mystery Shack with Mabel and Anjelita, finding out he quite enjoyed theatrics and art, much to Mabel’s enjoyment.

I still want Stan and Ford to sail. Even if it’s just for a summer I want them to sail so bad. They deserve it.

I may put these boys through hell but I want them to be happy by the end of this that if they aren’t I think I would cry 💥

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sweetheartsofpanem · 1 month ago

Text

Without Needing to Say It - Soft Things Survive

Previous Part

sorry it took me so long to post another part y’all😔

warnings: refer to series masterlist

pairing(s): refer to series masterlist

word count: 4.17k

series masterlist | main masterlist

Peeta found the game in one of the old supply boxes they never got around to unpacking after the war. It smells faintly of dust and singed cardboard, has no rulebook, and instructions written in handwriting none of you recognize.

Naturally, it’s everyone’s favorite.

Katniss is already suspicious of it.

Peeta is treating it like a sacred relic.

You are half-asleep against Haymitch’s shoulder.

“Remind me,” he says dryly, drawing a crooked card from the center pile, “what’s the point of this game again?”

“To sow chaos,” Peeta answers, already mid-grin. “And allegedly build ‘emotional resilience.’”

Katniss makes a noise like she’s been personally offended by the concept. “It gave me a card that said I had to compliment the person I trust least.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And you chose Peeta?”

“I trust him too much,” she mutters, eyes narrowing. “It felt like a trap.”

Peeta pouts. “I did nothing!”

You blink at them. “Okay, but where are the rules?”

Haymitch shrugs. “Guess we’re making ‘em up.”

You’re tucked close into his side on Katniss and Peeta’s couch, legs curled under you, one of his arms stretched lazily behind you. Every now and then, his thumb brushes against your shoulder absentmindedly, like he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it.

You don’t call attention to it.

You just lean into him a little more.

And Peeta—because he’s Peeta—glances up from his absurdly idiotic bickering with Katniss and catches the way Haymitch looks at you.

Then he smiles to himself and says nothing.

Not yet.

Katniss draws a card, reads it, and immediately tosses it onto the table like it offended her personally.

“What?” Peeta leans over, trying to peek. “What does it say?”

Katniss scowls. “Says I have to sit with the person I’m emotionally closest to.”

You and Haymitch say “Peeta” at the same time.

“I want a different card,” she mutters.

“You don’t get a different card,” Peeta says, delighted. “The board demands emotional growth.”

Haymitch snorts. “We’re gonna be here all night.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you murmur, nudging him with your elbow.

His fingers twitch where they rest against your shoulder. “You’re the one who insisted we come over.”

“And you came willingly.”

He hums. “For the cookies.”

Peeta beams. “Finally, someone appreciates my contributions.”

“You’re a menace,” Katniss mutters, begrudgingly sliding out of her seat and flopping into the cushion next to him.

“An emotionally available menace,” he corrects.

You roll your eyes. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Peeta grins at you. “Relax, Pinecone.”

Haymitch pauses mid-sip of his drink. “Pinecone?”

You freeze.

Peeta’s smile widens.

“No,” you say, already bracing yourself. “Peeta—”

“Wait,” Haymitch says, turning to you. “That’s new. Why’s he calling you Pinecone?”

“I—” You stammer. “It’s nothing. Inside joke. Not important. Totally irrelevant to everything.”

Peeta is glowing.

Katniss glances between you and Peeta like she’s trying to calculate how fast this is about to go downhill.

Haymitch raises an eyebrow. “Honey.”

You scowl. “Do not call me honey while interrogating me about my secret shame.”

That’s when Peeta—traitor, snitch, former friend—claps his hands together and says, “She had a crisis. A whole dramatic spiral. Came over and said, and I quote, ‘I’ll fake my own death. I’ll move into the woods. Change my name to Pinecone.’”

Haymitch turns to you slowly.

You are beet red.

“I was overwhelmed,” you hiss.

“Overwhelmed by what?” he asks, eyes narrowing with far too much amusement.

You want the couch to eat you. “Feelings.”

Peeta is cackling.

Katniss is smirking.

Haymitch looks delighted. “You were going to run into the woods because you have feelings for me?”

“I—maybe. Shut up.”

“I kind of like it,” he says, biting back a grin. “Pinecone’s got a nice ring to it.”

“You’re never allowed to use that name.”

He leans closer, voice low. “You sure about that, Pinecone?”

You groan into your hands while Peeta looks like he might explode from joy.

Katniss takes a slow sip of tea. “This is the best game night we’ve ever had.”

“Okay, okay,” Peeta says, trying to recover from laughing. “It’s my turn.”

“You should be disqualified for emotional treason,” you mutter, still red.

Katniss snatches it from his hand and reads it aloud, “Name three things you’d bring into the woods if you had to survive alone for a week.”

She grins. “Oh, this one’s perfect.”

Peeta groans. “Oh no.”

You cross your arms. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”

Peeta sighs, counting off on his fingers. “Fine. A knife, a firestarter, and Haymitch.”

Haymitch raises an eyebrow, mildly amused. “What the hell would I be good for?”

“Morale,” Peeta says solemnly. “And sarcasm. Also, probably immune to bear attacks through sheer force of bitterness.”

Katniss snorts.

You nod, pretending to be thoughtful. “Solid choice. He’d glare at the wildlife until they felt too emotionally vulnerable to attack.”

“Damn right,” Haymitch mutters, leaning back smugly.

“My turn,” you say, drawing a card—and immediately blanch. “No.”

Katniss perks up. “What’s it say?”

“Nothing. It’s—no. I’m redrawing.”

“You absolutely are not,” Peeta says, lunging forward to snatch the card out of your hand. He reads it aloud with glee. “Do an impression of someone at the table.”

You groan. “Unfair.”

Haymitch grins. “You gonna do me, honey?”

Peeta chokes on his tea.

You cover your face again. “Why do I even speak.”

Katniss, calm as ever, says, “You walked into that one.”

Haymitch leans in, far too amused. “I’d like to see your impression. Go on. Give it a shot.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Fine.”

You sit up straighter, put on your best scowl, and in your most gravelly voice, say, “Life’s a joke, kid, and I’m the punchline.”

Peeta nearly falls out of his chair.

Haymitch tries not to smile. He fails. “That’s not what I sound like.”

“It’s exactly what you sound like,” Katniss says flatly.

Haymitch shakes his head, still grinning. “Bunch of traitors.”

“You love us,” Peeta says, leaning back dramatically. “Admit it.”

Haymitch makes a vague hand gesture. “You’re tolerable.”

You glance up at him through your lashes. “Even me?”

He glances down at you—arm still draped behind you, fingers grazing your shoulder—and says, a little softer this time, “Especially you.”

That shuts you up.

It shuts everyone up.

Until Peeta—unbearable, shameless, Peeta—lets out a dreamy sigh. “And the award for Most Emotionally Charged Board Game Moment goes to…”

Katniss tosses a pillow at his face.

Peeta recovers from getting pelted in the face but only after pretending like he was just severely wounded during war. “Okay. Since we’re already off the rails—bonus round. Everyone goes around and says who they’d want with them in a zombie apocalypse.”

You blink. “Is that a real part of the game?”

“No,” Katniss says.

“Yes,” Peeta says at the same time.

Haymitch mutters, “I want the zombies.”

“Rude,” you say, nudging his leg with your foot. “You’d want me on your team, right?”

He gives you a slow once-over. “Can you outrun a zombie?”

You gasp. “Wow.”

“Answer the question, Pinecone.”

Peeta chokes on his own breath and has to curl over like he’s in physical pain from joy.

You glare at Haymitch. “Yes, I can outrun a zombie. Especially if they’re slow.”

Katniss hums. “Too bad. Our zombies would be runners.”

“Great,” you mutter. “Guess I’m doomed.”

Haymitch leans back and says, entirely too smug, “I’d still pick you.”

You freeze.

Peeta says, “Ugh,” like it physically wounded him.

Katniss narrows her eyes. “Wait, so you’d let the rest of us die?”

Haymitch shrugs. “I figure she’d be the only one who didn’t make fun of me if I screamed.”

“Oh, I’d mock you,” you say quickly.

“Relentlessly,” Peeta adds.

“But I’d do it while helping you fight off a horde,” you say, with mock sincerity.

Katniss reaches for the snack bowl. “You two are exhausting.”

“You’re just jealous,” Peeta says. “They’ve got coordinated apocalypse plans. What do we have?”

“A shared trauma bond and good aim,” Katniss says, deadpan.

Peeta grins. “We’re gonna be fine.”

You toss a handful of popcorn at them.

Haymitch sighs, mutters something about the sanctity of game night, and promptly eats a piece off his own shirt where it landed.

You stare at him. “Did you just—?”

“Waste not, want not.”

“You are feral.”

“You knew what you were getting into.”

Peeta points at you. “She absolutely did not.”

Katniss leans over and steals the card deck. “Alright. A few more rounds, then we stop before someone proposes.”

Everyone goes quiet.

Peeta looks at you.

You look at Haymitch.

Haymitch calmly takes a sip of his drink.

“…Right,” Katniss says, eyes narrowing. “Not touching that.”

Peeta leans forward, still grinning way too hard. “Okay, speed round. No hesitations. You get one question and everyone has to answer.”

“Is that even legal?” you ask.

“Illegal in five districts and a monastery,” Haymitch mutters.

Peeta ignores both of you. “First question—what’s your biggest irrational fear?”

“Bees,” Katniss answers without hesitation.

You blink. “Wait, really?”

“They don’t have a moral code.”

“That’s not even—”

“They’re chaos incarnate.”

You nod slowly. “Okay.”

Haymitch raises an eyebrow. “I’m terrified of silence being used as a strategic weapon.”

Peeta points. “That sounds targeted.”

You consider your answer. “…Accidentally sending someone the wrong letter and ruining their life.”

Everyone stares at you.

“That’s not irrational,” Peeta says. “That’s just deeply specific.”

You shrug. “I think about it a lot.”

Peeta grabs the next card. “What’s your go-to comfort meal?”

“Stew,” Katniss says.

“Cinnamon bread,” Peeta says with zero hesitation.

You smile softly. “Pasta with butter and garlic. The cheap kind. From childhood.”

Haymitch is quiet a second too long.

“…Cold toast with honey.”

You glance at him. “Why cold?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “That’s how it was when my ma made it. Used to think it was the worst thing. Then it was gone, and—” He stops. Shrugs again. “Guess it stuck.”

Your chest tugs, soft and aching.

Katniss doesn’t say anything.

Peeta looks like he wants to.

You reach up and brush your fingers against Haymitch’s arm where it rests along the back of the couch. Just once. A soft, barely-there touch.

He doesn’t look at you.

But after a second, his hand shifts slightly—fingertips grazing the top of your shoulder—and stays there.

The next few rounds pass in a blur of laughter and insults, Katniss bluffing like her life depends on it, Peeta stealing snacks from everyone’s bowl, you and Haymitch sniping at each other like a married couple.

Eventually, the cards dwindle.

The laughter softens.

The night sinks deeper.

Peeta glances at the clock and groans. “How is it already this late?”

Katniss is sprawled on the floor with a throw pillow under her head, perfectly content and not moving.

You stretch your legs out with a quiet hum. “Okay. I guess we should probably head out before one of us falls asleep right here.”

You slip your shoes on by the door, still warm from the laughter that lingers in the corners of the room. Haymitch reaches for your coat without a word, holding it out for you with a quiet sort of ease that makes your chest ache a little.

“Thanks,” you murmur as you slide your arms through the sleeves.

Peeta offers a lazy wave from the armchair. “Try not to fall in love on the walk home.”

You flip him off without turning around.

You hear Katniss snort behind you.

Haymitch just shakes his head and opens the door.

The air outside is cool, the kind that hints at autumn even though summer hasn’t quite loosened its grip. You step into it together, the door clicking softly behind you.

The walk is short but neither of you rush it.

Your hands brush once.

Then again.

And then he reaches over and threads his fingers through yours like it’s nothing.

No words. No pressure.

Just the familiar shape of him beside you. The stars overhead. The quiet rhythm of footsteps across soft grass and stone.

By the time you reach the porch, you almost forget where the walk ended and the comfort began.

He opens the door. Waits for you to step inside.

And when you do, you feel it settle again—that quiet, steady warmth you’ve come to crave more than anything.

Home.

Your cardigan’s draped over the back of his chair.

You haven’t moved in. Not technically. You still have your house. You still sleep there sometimes, especially if Katniss or Peeta stays over after dinner and Haymitch’s house is too quiet.

But most nights, you’re here.

You fall asleep tucked beneath his arm, forehead resting somewhere between his jaw and his shoulder. And when the dreams come—because they always do—you don’t let each other go.

When your past haunts you, he holds you without asking questions, rubbing slow circles into your back until your breathing evens out.

When his own past claws its way into his dreams, you wake to the sound of his breath catching in his throat and shift closer, hand at his chest, whispering soft reassurances into the dark until his grip on you loosens and his body remembers it’s safe.

You still haven’t said I love you.

But it’s in the way he pulls you back in even when he’s shaking. It’s in the way you don’t hesitate to climb into his lap and hold his face in your hands until he comes back to you.

It’s in the quiet. In the way you both stay.

In the way neither of you run anymore.

You toe off your shoes just inside the door, breathing in the familiar scent of his house—faint woodsmoke, something herbal, and whatever soap he uses that somehow always smells like comfort.

Haymitch hangs your coat on the hook next to his, then moves into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. He doesn’t ask if you want one—just brings two and sets one in your hand without comment.

You smile against the rim as you sip. “Thanks.”

He grunts, already halfway across the room flicking off lights as he goes. You follow behind, finishing your water, trailing him like you always do when it’s late and your body’s starting to forget how to hold tension.

When he reaches the stairs, he glances back once, waiting for you to catch up. You do without a word, bumping your shoulder against his just enough to make his lips twitch.

The bedroom is dim when you step inside, lit only by the low lamp near the bed. The sheets are still rumpled from earlier, and your heart does something dumb and fluttery at the sight of it—like the room knows you belong here now.

Haymitch disappears into the bathroom for a moment. You change into one of the soft shirts he keeps in your drawer—gray and worn thin with age, stretched a little from too many washings. You sit on the edge of the bed, curling your legs beneath you, and wait.

When he comes back, he’s shirtless again, and your brain short circuits for a second in the dim light.

You try not to stare.

You fail.

He raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.

You lie down before you have to answer for whatever expression just flashed across your face.

He slides into bed beside you a second later, warm and familiar, the quiet creak of the mattress almost a comfort in itself.

You shift onto your side.

And without a word, he slides an arm around your waist and pulls you close.

It’s not rushed.

It’s not even fully deliberate.

It’s just what you do now—fit together in the dark like something tried and trusted.

Your hand finds his on instinct. Fingers curling. Holding.

Neither of you says anything for a while.

And maybe you don’t need to.

Because in this house, in this bed, in this moment—you are home.

You stay like that for a long moment, his chest pressed warm against your back, your fingers laced together.

You feel his breath against the nape of your neck. Slow. Steady. Present.

Eventually, you whisper into the quiet, “You ever think we’d end up like this?”

He lets out a small breath that might be a laugh.

“Not exactly like this,” he murmurs. “Didn’t think anyone’d put up with me long enough.”

You hum. “Good thing I’m unusually patient.”

“Mm. Is that what we’re calling it now?”

You smile into the pillow. “Shut up.”

But his arm squeezes you just slightly. Like he heard what you really meant. Like he feels it too.

You shift, just enough to roll onto your back. He lets you move, doesn’t pull away, just adjusts to stay close. You turn your head toward him, and he’s already looking at you.

There’s nothing teasing in his face now. Just warmth. And something that looks dangerously close to awe.

You reach up, brushing your fingers against the soft edge of his hair. He leans into it without hesitation.

“I like you like this,” you whisper. “Quiet. Not pretending.”

His eyes search yours. “I like you like this too.”

You smile. “A mess?”

“Real,” he says simply. “Still showing up anyway.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you lean in and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He stills.

Then turns his head slightly—just enough.

Your lips meet again, slower this time. A little deeper. A little more certain.

It’s not rushed. It’s not hungry. It’s something quieter.

Like a promise.

His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing lightly against your cheekbone as he kisses you again. And again.

And again.

Each one softer than the last.

When you finally pull back, you’re close enough to feel his breath against your skin. His eyes are half-lidded, softer than you’ve ever seen them.

You whisper, “I’m really glad I didn’t change my name to Pinecone.”

That earns a real laugh—low and quiet and rough around the edges.

“You still could,” he says. “I’d find you.”

You grin. “Would you follow me into the woods?”

“Every damn day if I had to.”

And somehow, that’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to you.

You shift again, tucking yourself against his chest, one arm across his middle, your face pressed against the curve of his shoulder.

His arm settles around you like it belongs there.

You feel his lips brush the top of your head.

And everything—everything—is quiet.

You don’t fall asleep.

Not yet.

You’re too warm. Too full. Too aware of the way his fingers are tracing gentle, absent-minded shapes along your back—barely there, like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

You shift slightly, just enough to look up at him again. “You’re not tired?”

He shakes his head a little. “Too much noise in my brain.”

You nod. “Same.”

He studies you for a second, then says softly, “You wanna talk about anything?”

You shrug against him. “Not really. Just like hearing your voice.”

That gets a huff of a laugh out of him. “You’re a menace.”

You grin. “You love it.”

He doesn’t answer right away.

But his hand stills for a second on your back, then resumes, slower now. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I think I do.”

You look up again, but he’s staring at the ceiling like he didn’t just say that.

And your chest aches.

Not in a painful way.

In the way that says I could live in this.

You shift again, propping yourself up on one elbow beside him. His arm drops to rest around your waist like he can’t quite stop touching you even when you move.

“Hey,” you murmur.

He glances at you, and there’s something in his expression—tired, open, maybe a little overwhelmed—that makes your heart stutter.

You brush a knuckle gently along his jaw. “You’re allowed to say it, you know.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Say what?”

“That this is good,” you say. “That it’s okay to be happy.”

He exhales slowly. “It scares the hell out of me.”

“I know,” you say softly. “Me too.”

His eyes flick to yours.

“You’ve been through more than anyone should’ve had to,” you continue. “And maybe it still hurts. Maybe it always will. But you’re here. You’re still here. And that matters.”

For a second, you think maybe you’ve said too much.

But then he nods. Almost imperceptibly. “It does.”

You lie back down again, curling against his side, your head resting on his chest. You listen to the slow rhythm of his heart, one of your hands rubbing the scar on his collarbone.

“I like being here,” you whisper. “With you.”

He tilts his head just enough to brush his lips against your hair. “Good.”

You shift closer. “Maybe tomorrow we can sleep in. Make a lazy breakfast. Do nothing.”

He hums. “Sounds dangerous.”

You smile. “That’s a yes, then?”

“Might even let you make pancakes again.”

You feign shock. “You’d trust me with the stove again?”

He smirks. “Only if you promise not to burn down my house.”

“No promises.”

Another laugh, low and warm.

You breathe in deep, letting the moment settle, letting it stretch long and soft between you.

“You know,” you murmur, “for someone who once told me he wasn’t someone to count on… you’ve been showing up a hell of a lot.”

He’s quiet for a long time.

Then, so softly you almost miss it, “I didn’t think I had it in me.”

You tilt your face up toward his. “You always did. You just didn’t know where to put it.”

He meets your gaze, something raw in his expression, and doesn’t look away.

You reach up and trace your thumb lightly over his cheek. “You can put it here.”

He closes his eyes like the weight of that almost knocks the breath out of him.

But when he opens them again, he nods.

He kisses your forehead, slow and steady, like he’s planting something there.

Something that might grow.

You don’t say anything else after that.

You just stay close, wrapped in each other, the night stretching quiet and soft around you.

You can feel the way his breathing shifts every time you do, like he’s quietly adjusting to your rhythm, or maybe like he’s trying not to get used to it.

You lift your head slightly, just enough to glance up at him again. “Still not tired?”

He shrugs a little beneath you. “Not in a hurry to waste this.”

You smile, soft and lopsided. “This?”

He glances down at you, and for once, he doesn’t look away. “You. Here. Me not screwing it up.”

Your chest aches in that familiar, quiet way it always does when he says something like that.

So you kiss him.

Just a light press of your lips to his—soft, certain. A reassurance.

His hand finds your waist, warm and steady. He kisses you again, a little longer this time, a little more sure.

Then a third—gentler. Slower. Like he’s learning your shape by feel.

You pull back just far enough to murmur, “You’re not screwing it up.”

His thumb brushes your hip. “Give it time.”

You roll your eyes, then kiss the corner of his mouth. “You’re allowed to believe you’re good at this, you know.”

He snorts softly. “That’s a big ask.”

“Start small,” you whisper. “Like… maybe letting yourself be kissed.”

He hums, low in his throat. “Think I can manage that.”

So you do it again.

Another kiss, longer this time. You tilt your head and shift closer.

His other hand slides up to cup the back of your neck, and for a few breaths, it’s just that—your mouths pressed together, slow and unhurried, like time doesn’t matter as long as this keeps happening.

When you finally part, you don’t move far. You stay close, noses almost touching, your eyes barely open.

His voice is low. “You’re gonna kill me, honey.”

You smile. “I’m trying to keep you alive, actually.”

He huffs a breath, and it brushes your cheek. “Funny way of doing it.”

You press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Still here, aren’t you?”

And his expression shifts—just slightly—but it’s enough to make your breath catch. Because for all the teasing, for all the sarcasm, there’s something devastatingly sincere in the way he looks at you right now.

Like he’s realizing something he doesn’t know how to say.

You don’t push it.

You just rest your forehead against his again, your fingers tucked against the side of his chest, your lips still tingling from every kiss.

Neither of you speaks.

But it’s all there anyway.

And when you kiss him one more time—just because you can—he lets out the quietest sigh, like maybe he’s finally letting himself believe he deserves this.

You stay like that.

For a long, long time.

Until your body finally relaxes into sleep.

Safe.

Held.

Loved.

Even if neither of you has said it yet.

Next Part

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waywardcrow · 1 year ago

Text

Dress.

Summary: After a mission where they crossed a line, Bucky decides to talk about what happened that night with you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader.

WC: Almost 1600.

TW: Avengers kind of things, talk about weapons, sad reader and sad Bucky, misunderstendings, agents talking shit because of jealousy, SMUT (do not interact if you're not +18) some kissing, dancing and boners lol, semi public make out, oral (f recieving) fingering, hint of other things but not so much because I'm so bad a t this, sorry, let me know if I missed something.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

You hated everything that night, the happy people who were eager to get drunk and forget about the ending year, the music too loud that didn’t let you think, the beautiful dress you bought for that very occasion specifically because you wanted to impress a certain super soldier in the New Year's Eve party but that was before last mission, before you messed it all up.

If you closed your eyes, you could see everything playing perfectly in your mind, how unprofessional you were, how much space Bucky put between you two in the quinjet, the tension that followed you the last days and the words of the agents who probably knew about what happen from him. It was a disaster and you wouldn’t escape from it, Tony would never let you go without an explanation if you requested a transfer to another area.

Distracted, drinking your problems you didn’t noticed Bucky’s gaze tearing apart the pretty gold dress you were wearing as if he could feel your skin against his like that night.

It was a simple mission, find the target, watch it until Valkyrie and Wanda could secured the evidence –an arsenal of Asgardian weapons- and then arrested everyone but your cover was necessary and thanks to your powers, the ability to manipulate brain’s perception to make your audience see what you want- make you perfect to blend with him in that shady club pretending to be just a couple looking for a good time.

Easier to say than done, Bucky fought his boner all night with you dancing too close to him, whispering things in his ear, sitting in his lap… sure you could feel how much he wanted to fuck you there in front of everybody, he indulged in his little fantasy when he feel your own arousal, he told himself it was for the mission when he took you to a semi empty corridor to kiss you dumb.

You tasted better than he imagined, like honey and salvation, Bucky was sure that if he kept kissing you he would find heaven.

“Are you ok, terminator? You look like you’re about to have an aneurysm” Sam pulled him out of his mind just in time before he got in trouble righ there in the middle of the party.

“I’m fine” he wasn’t and Sam let out a chuckle.

“Just go and talk to her, you can’t keep avoiding each other forever.”

You were avoiding him, Bucky just gave you space after you walked away from him when the mission was over, like he didn’t almost cum from having you exactly where he wanted you, with your perfect legs around him with just a thin layer of clothes between you.

“I said I’m fine” he said again, not looking at Sam when you made your way to the elevators, going after you.

It was better for you to leave early, too many drinks and you could end up crying or doing something you’ll regret, like talking to Bucky, who jumped in the elevator you called before the doors closed.

“Going to bed already?” he asked and you stared at him like an idiot, how could he look that good all the damn time? A black suit and white shirt shouldn’t make someone that hot, it was cheating “are you alright, honey?”

How have you missed his voice! A simple taste of him and you wanted more, you wanted him to touch you like that night, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like if time was against you both and every second he wasn’t making you feel all of him was a sacrilege.

“Why are you here, Bucky?”

Cornered, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, drawing his attention to your breasts, the memory of his lips pulling softly at your nipple made you want to close your legs to get some sort of friction, trying to calm the need for him.

Like he could read your mind, he licked his lips, wanting to pull your dress and bury himself in your chest but Bucky needed to have a conversation with you first.

“Are you going to avoid me forever, hon?” the super soldier lifted your chin to make you see him when you set your eyes in your heels “I can take a rejection, sweetheart but not you shutting me out completely.”

Bucky had made lots of friends with time but you were his first one, he didn’t want to lose you; you, in the other hand, were more confused than ever.

“What rejection? If anything, you’re the one who is not interested!” boldness coming from the alcohol made you talk before thinking about stopping “and don’t give me that look James Buchanan Barnes, you know perfectly what I’m talking about.”

The elevators door opened and you stormed out, going to you room, the audacity of that man!

“Can you explain to me what are you talking about?” Bucky took your hand and made you face him when you reached your door, all his cocky attitude was replaced by confusion.

“Please don’t pretend you didn’t tell Carla and Ashley what happen that night, I heard them talking the morning after in the gym” Above all the embarrassment there was hurt, you thought he could be trusted but Bucky proved you were an idiot “they were talking how you hated being assigned with me and to pretend to make out with me.”

Bucky’s heart hammered in his chest, what the hell were you talking about? He didn’t say anything, at all but you looked so sure he couldn’t speak.

“You made it very clear putting distance between us in the ride home but you didn’t have to tell them” your voice trembled, still you refused to cry, if that was the kind of man Bucky was, he didn’t deserve your tears.

“I swear I didn’t say anything, honey, I swear” he promised, making himself small to look at your eyes “I don’t know how they know, please believe me.”

You shake your head; you wanted to believe him but…

“I told no one, I really thought you were mad at me for taking advantage of the situation, that I misread it” he mumbled, desperate to prove you he was telling the truth, taking your face in his hands “I should have been more professional, more of a gentleman, ask you properly on a date, not acting like that, no matter how much I wanted it. That’s why I put space between us; Wanda and Val were looking at me like they would spray me with cold water if I breathed near you.”

Bucky wished you could read his mind to see he was honest but you still could, sensing his desperation matching yours.

“Do you really mean that?”

His heart broke at how unsure you sounded, he would spend every day of his life proving to you how much he meant it.

“I do, honey, you’re not only a friend to me, why do you think I requested to be with you in that mission?” with his arms around your waist, you put your hands in his chest to feel his heartbeat “I can’t be apart from you, I needed you close while I was gathering courage to confess my feelings but then I couldn’t hide it and…”

You interrupted him to kiss him, not giving a damn about anything but Bucky’s lips in yours. He opened the door and you took him with you to your room, tossing his jacket to the floor and taking your heels off.

“You should keep them on” he said between kisses, guiding you to your bed.

“Maybe next time” you promised, opening his dress shirt, he gave you a smirk while he took it off, like he couldn’t wait.

“This dress has to go, even if I love it.”

“I only bought it for you to take it off” you confessed, mesmerized by his hands undressing you before he placed you softly in your bed, earning a grin from him.

“Really? Well, you deserve a reward for thinking about me, honey”

Before you could ask, he was with his knees on the floor, ripping your panties to eat you out like he needed it to keep breathing.

It barely gave you time to let out a lewd moan that only encourage him more, putting your legs in his broad shoulders, nipping at your sensitive bud and teasing your entrance with his fingers.

It was real? It was the alcohol? You could think so if it wasn’t very improbable, your imagination couldn’t make this up, not something this good at least.

“Please” you begged and he shove one finger in you, then almost immediately another while licking you and going back to your clit, moaning at the taste of you, humping the mattress to get some relief, especially when you pulled at his short locks, making him groan.

“Bucky! Pleaseplease…” were the only words you could form but then he decided to replace his fingers with his tongue and you were gone, the orgasm hit you like a thousand waves and you could swear you fainted for a second, only coming back to yourself when you tasted your own arousal in his kiss.

Surprised to being this responsive with him, you kissed him back and he looked at you, fire blazing in his eyes.

“Come back to me, honey, we are just getting started” he promised against your lips and dear God, he was a man of his word. Hors later, the fireworks were loud enough outside but you both couldn’t care less, you finally have what you wanted: each other.

So this is my first time writing smut and I wanted to do it for New year's Eve, it was fun! Tell me what you think and happy new year!

Love, Lily.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes angst

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pearlcigs · 4 months ago

Note

thinking a lot about soft! Vi 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 maybe even thinking about being babied 😵‍💫😵‍💫

⋆ softcore — tlou discord server

soft!vi who has a tough exterior but she always finds herself letting her walls down for you at the end of the day. when she's sighing from exhaustion, slipping into bed just ready to sink into oblivion. she just wants to roll over, ignore your curled up body that lay next to her. but she doesn't, she couldn't. no matter how tired she was, she needed you, needed your body melting into her like liquid in her hands. so she does just that, scoops you closer to her, her touch gentle in contrast to her rough and callused hands. she'll kiss the top of your head, all of your face. she'll whisper the sweetest things in your ear until she falls asleep, even her snores gentle.

soft!vi who you find humming as she does domestic tasks, like when she's cooking or cleaning. she's not even aware that she does it, solely focused on the task at hand. you think it's cute, never bringing it to her attention in hopes she'll never stop. once you found her going through the mail, humming an awfully familiar tune. you watched with admiration as vi sorted through the bills and the junk mail. "look, babe, they sent me a letter about my car's extended warranty." she laughs, pausing her humming to lift up the letter she was reading. "what idiots. they really think i'm gonna fall for this." she chuckles again, going back to her assortment of mail and her humming resumes. you just want to preserve her in a little box and keep her forever.

soft!vi who plays with your hair while you do some off hand task. not really doing any specific hairstyle, just moving strands over other strands and then letting them fall back into their place. you don't mind when she does, pretending you don't notice. it was the silent moments that you held deep in your heart, and so did vi. vi's hands would more often than not eventually make their way out of your hair, sliding down your body. she would grip your waist, or your hips, or massage your shoulders, or sometimes even slip her hands under your shirt to feel your warm skin. it wasn't even sexual, not when she would cup your breasts or kiss your neck as she did, she just loved having her hands on you in any way possible.

soft!vi who has a hard time just saying how she feels. she just can't get the words out to save her life. so you'll find little things around the house a day or two after an argument. flowers on the counter when you wake up. the dishes washed and dried. that shower curtain you've been meaning to install for months now? vi did it. it's sweet really, little things to let you know she still loved you or she's not mad at you because you both know she'll never say it out loud. or even when you two weren't arguing, you'll still find things like this. cookies she picked up for you on her way over. or when you caught her reading that book you were talking about earlier in the week. but your favorite is when you find little notes left on your fridge stuck by the (carefully picked, seriously it was no coincidence she picked those every single time) heart magnets. sometimes it was just a little drawing and sometimes it would be sweet words like 'miss you' or 'thinking of you'. it made your heart swell every time.

soft!vi who tries to make you breakfast in bed when she stays over at your apartment but you usually wake up to a smoke detector going off. it's sort of amazing at how she's such a good cook but such a bad one at the same time. like she'll burn the toast but make a perfect 5 star meal with bacon, eggs, and pancakes with a chocolate ganache. you didn't even know what a ganache was until you stumbled into the kitchen with worry only to be met with vi's crooked smile holding an entirely black piece of toast. "i was trying to make breakfast." and then she proceeded to explain what she made. "so you made all this, but... burnt the toast?" you weren't mad just... in awe. how do you burn toast? but you laugh anyway, kissing her nerves away.

soft!vi who babies you in the least condesceding way possible. she knows you like to be independent, as does anyone, but she can't help babying you every once in a while. it's simple things really, you didn't even notice at first. she'd grab things from you. "that looks heavy, let me do it." and would not even give you a chance to argue. she'd carry you anywhere, holding you in her arms like there wasn't a worry in the world. she'd wrap you in a bunch of blankets if you were napping on the couch, making sure you don't wake up cold. (you might wake up hot though.) she'd grab your cold hands in her warm ones to warm you up. it was just little things but vi always made sure you felt cared for.

#⚙️ ⋆ arcane #vi arcane #arcane #vi x reader #vi #vi league of legends #league of legends #arcane x reader #arcane s2 #violet arcane #vi smut

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luveline · 11 months ago

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Feeling a bit emotional and would really appreciate something short but sweet with Steve telling reader he's proud of them.

You’ve been through a lot. It’s not nice to hear about all the bad things that have happened to you, how people have been cruel, or how you’ve been alone, but Steve is grateful to get to know these things about you. He feels entrusted with something very important whenever you retell a bad memory; he can keep it, help carry it, take some of the weight from your burdened levy.

He’s happy to do it, even in the moments where you forget all that stuff.

“You did,” you insist, face pressed into the couch, a tired hand to his cheek as you stroke your smooth nail up and down his skin. It tickles badly. He never wants you to stop. “Steve, you knocked him on his ass. He had bruises.”

“I don’t remember,” he lies. He smashed into Dustin so hard during a game of baseball the poor younger boy didn’t wanna play, and Steve was very sorry for the bruise he got to the coccyx afterward.

“No, you wouldn’t remember. That’s convenient.” You’re just teasing, caressing his face, in a world of your own that Steve gets to be in too when he’s lucky.

He thinks everything of you —you’re so sweet, so kind. Even now you’re lamenting that Dustin got bad bruises and tapping up to the corner of his eye with your fingertip, gentle, loving. He wonders how someone who’s experienced the hardship that you have would be able to just walk it off, but then he remembers you don’t walk it off. You carry it. You’re carrying it as you speak, and you're smiling at him.

You’re Steve’s best friend, his great love, all the heartfelt junk.

“I felt bad,” he says with a little laugh. “Does that make it better? I did feel bad. He hit the floor so hard.”

“Your laugh makes me feel like you don’t have enough remorse.”

“I’m super remorseful.”

Your fingertips slide into the hair just atop his ear, and you start the motions of a small scalp massage.

“You’re–” Steve searches for the right word. Skirts around sincerity, and doubles back when nothing else conveys what he means. “You’re pretty amazing.”

“And amazingly pretty,” you murmur, tucking hair behind his ear and pulling it out again as you scratch his scalp, a repetitive motion.

“I don’t tell you enough.” He slips down in his seat to be the same height as you, catching an eyeful of your soft jaw, your lips, every inch of you kissable.

“That’s not the sort of thing you have to tell me,” you say.

There’s some awkwardness there. He really should tell you more. “I’m serious. You’re amazing, you’re so kind. Everything that’s happened to you, and you’re unstoppable.”

He’s aggrandising, a little, to get through it without sounding like a too sincere idiot, but then he notices your expression shift at his tone and decides he can’t do that to you, because he’s not joking. He clears his throat.

“I didn’t have much to do with it, but I’m proud of you for everything. You’re a good person, and you didn’t have to be.” He holds your elbow to pause your ministrations against his scalp, leaning in to kiss your cheek gently, though he stays there, and his nose draws a line down to your lips.

You breathe in without saying anything.

“…You’re proud of me?” you ask under your breath.

Maybe it’s weird, but he is. “I just think you could’ve turned into, like, a huge dick. But you’re you.” He puts all the weight on it. “You’re amazing.”

Your hand falls to his arm. “You think so?”

“Of course I do.” He steals a soft kiss before he puts his cheek beside yours, expecting your hug before you give it.

You wrap him up like a pretzel. “Why are you saying this to me?” you ask worriedly.

“I just want you to know. I’m always proud of you, and I don’t know if I ever said it out loud. I think it’s– it’s hard to get hurt so much and get up again, but you do.”

“I guess you’d know about that,” you say, curling into him. Your hug is without stress nor worry, just a want to be close to him, your voice laden with warmth. “We keep getting beat up. Maybe that’s why we’re good together.”

“And another hundred different reasons,” he says pointedly.

“Thousand reasons,” you correct yourself. “Thanks for thinking about me, baby.”

With the way you say baby, Steve will be thinking of you for the rest of his life. “Can I rub your back?” he asks. It’s your turn for some affection.

“Oh, no, please don’t rub my back, you know I hate that,” you say, sarcastic mumbling as you stretch against his chest.

Steve hooks you against him. “I know. I’m the worst.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

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beomcharms · 4 months ago

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bound ᥫ᭡ || pt.2||

pairings: beomgyu x f!reader

genre: arranged marriage au!, childhood friends to lovers, they’re really just idiots

warnings: angst, angst, angst, drinking, bad decisions, slightest bit of fluff, yearning beomgyu’s mean, oc is also mean soooo

w/c: 2.8k

read pt.1 here

a/n: i really didn’t expect pt. 2 to take so long but i fell into a writers slump in the middle of it so sorry for the delay☹️. i hope you all like this as much as you liked pt. 1 (please do)!!

taglist: @hyunelixbun @lickingan0rchid @j0qn @baekberrie @yoseicour @lovingbeomgyudayone @bambammtori @gyuhaze @definitelynother @tubatuupenguinkai @strawberryjaem @leehans-fish @filesforbeom @yeovnjin @sunooqvrlsx @t-102 @akitfffr @blossommi @soohashits @sulliefimmie @brrytears

fic below cut

You’re on your third drink of the night. Beomgyu is right by your side, as he has been the entire night. You’ve tried to shake off his company only for him to pop up right beside you whenever you thought you had succeeded.

“Can’t you atleast pretend like your enjoying this party ?” He mutters. You don’t even look his way, opting instead to plaster on the fakest smile you can muster.

“You look deranged” he tells you, alarmed by your change in expression and you force yourself not to laugh.

Beomgyu tries to take hold your hand which you immediately snatch away as you pretend to examine your nails. You hear him sigh.

Maybe it was a little too much, but he deserved it. The entire car ride had been silent. Beomgyu had picked you up from work, drove you home, complimented your attire for the night ( a short wine coloured dress that made him feel like he was being shot in the chest) and had tried to make conversation with you the entire night. You on the other had barely spared him a glance.

You had had to rush through your meeting and you weren’t even remotely satisfied with the work you had done today all because of Beomgyu and his insistence on attending the gala.

Although, you could see why this was important to him. Every major businessman in your state was in attendance and they all had bought someone with them. This would be a big night for him if he weren’t so busy trying to get you talk to him. You were too petty to let it slide.

You’re about to pick up your fourth drink from a passing by waiter when Beomgyu holds down your hand. You raise an eyebrow at him, shaking your hand free.

“I think you’ve had enough” he tells you. You roll your eyes, hard. Choosing to walk away from him. He follows behind you. This man, you think to yourself. You make your way onto a silent alcove, turning to face him.

“What is the matter with you” you ask him angrily.

“Finally, she speaks” he tells you, clutching his heart in pretence.

You give him a rough push but he holds onto your hands. “This is not a joke”

“Yes. It’s not. It’s one of the biggest nights of my life and yet here I am trying to make you talk with me” Beomgyu almost drawls out.

“Nobody is forcing you to do it. Go, talk with all your big investors. It’s not like I want to hang out with you here either” you huff out at him, trying to break his grip on you.

“I know. But, seeing your glower is making all of them scramble away from me” his tone a little playful.

“Fine. I’ll stay out here. Would that work for you?” You ask him tilting your head.

“That is not the point. Listen, I’m sorry. How many more times do I have to say it?” Beomgyu asks you, eyes pleading.

“Till you actually mean it. You can’t just expect me to adjust my schedule around yours anytime you wish to, that’s not how this works” you tell him, angry again.

“I know, but this was last minute and I didn’t have the time today morning. Stress got the better of me and I’m sorryyy sweetheart” He tells you drawing you closer to him.

“You never have the time. Never.” You tell him, trying to push him away.

“You knew what you were marrying into!” He tells you and it seems like he is on his last straw.

“Did I? I expected a little more respect Beomgyu, not this blatant disregard for my job and even myself” you tell him, voice rising a little.

“I respect you. This was just a one time thing. But you keep asking more and more from me” Beomgyu huffs out.

You stand there in shock. The audacity of this man. Beomgyu immediately knows he went too far.

“I didn’t mean that. You know I didn’t mean that” he tells you quickly.

Despite yourself, your eyes starts to well up. Wiping away your tears furiously, you turn away from him.

“Y/N… please” Beomgyu pleads.

“I’m going home” you tell him walking away.

-.-

The uber driver pays no mind to you as you sob in the car seat behind him. Beomgyu had not followed behind you. He had just let you walk away from him.

You didn’t even know what you were crying for anymore. Your ruined marriage was one thing but also your heart hurt. You had fallen for Beomgyu against the odds but it didn’t matter because he didn’t feel an ounce of the emotion you felt for him.

When the driver tells you you’ve reached home, your tears have dried up and only the numbness remains.

-.-

Beomgyu splashes water all over his face. Pushing back his hair, he gets the weird urge to laugh at himself. What was he doing? What is the point of any of this if you’re not beside him?

Mentally cursing himself for not following you back home, he rushes to get his car and leave the function.

Beomgyu will not let this marriage fail.

-.-

Pushing the door open, Beomgyu rushes into your shared bedroom. You’re not there.

Walking out he calls out your name but there is no response. Panic starts to set in inside him and he tries calling your phone, but there is no answer.

Beomgyu walks around the house and finally settles on the couch, clutching his head in his hands when he hears the front door open again. He jumps up and turns around and sees you, removing your coat to reveal the pajamas underneath, holding onto a rub of ice cream. Beomgyu bites down on his lip to avoid smiling.

“Can’t you atleast answer your phone?” He asks you.

You pay no mind to him, dropping the house keys on to the counter and walking over to the kitchen.

“Will you stop being so childish to me for once ?” Beomgyu is following close behind you. You pick up your spoon and turn around to see him towering over you.

You look up at him and Beomgyu holds the bridge of his nose to calm himself down. Being mad at you was not going to work, since he was clearly in the wrong. Beomgyu is not used to being in the wrong and hence he has a hard time coming up with apologies.

“I’m sorry” he starts

“Don’t wanna hear it” you tell him, picking up your ice cream tub and making your way onto the sofa.

Beomgyu sits beside you and you sigh.

“You’re not asking more from me, infact your not even asking for enough. I- I don’t know why I said all that. Clearly-“ Beomgyu is rambling on, while you struggle to open the ice cream lid.

Gently taking it from your hands he pries it open in one go and hands it back to you and continues on without missing a beat “- I was not in me right mind. Please, just please let’s talk this out”

You focus on your ice cream. It was your favourite flavour. Each spoonful helped a little more to calm you down.

“Are you listening to me?” Beomgyu asks you. He has not once looked away from you, despite your continued ignorance.

“I have nothing to say to you” you mumble with your mouth full, looking around for your t.v remote.

“Will you atleast look at me” Beomgyu asks you turning your chin towards him.

Your roll your eyes, pushing away his hand.

“Please sweetheart” Beomgyu pleads and you look away. You couldn’t handle his puppy eyes. Not when you were kids and definitely not now.

“I have nothing to say to you. And what is the point of even trying anymore when you keep doing what you wish to do and keep treating me like shit?” You ask him and you hate how sad and desperate you sound.

“Just- I need time” he tells you, rushing, trying to find the right words.

“Just leave me alone, Beomgyu.” You sigh.

Beomgyu feels defeated. He hates how there seems to be nothing he can do to make you understand him. The distance between the both of you continues to grow and he is out of attempts to try and find a way to fill it up.

-.-

You sleep on different beds for the first time that night. Beomgyu had not put up a fight when you carried out your stuff to the guest bedroom. He had simply watched you. You did not have another fight left in you.

Sleep refused to acknowledge you in any way. You tossed and turned all night, finally falling asleep in the early hours of the morning. Briefly, you wondered how Beomgyu was doing, before reminding yourself that you shouldn’t care for him.

-.-

Days pass in the same manner. You hardly see Beomgyu. He left early and came home late. In the few glimpses you got of him, rushing out the door, he looked rough. Sadness weighed heavy in your heart and you spend most nights crying yourself to sleep.

Beomgyu, felt like a shell of himself. He didn’t have the motivation to do anything and to avoid having to acknowledge the mess that was his marriage, he buried himself in work. He was sharper and meaner with everything and everyone around him, like a shard from a broken vase.

Unbeknownst to you, he would sometimes slowly sneak into your room, when he was sure you were sleeping. From your swollen eyes it was evident that he was hurting you. He just didn’t know how to fix it. Hours would pass by where he concocted plans to get you to talk to him but they all left him empty. He had hurt you, was continuing to hurt you.

-.-

You were in your usual hurry to get to school. Rushing about your room you pick up your bag and apply your perfume and rush out, nearly knocking Beomgyu onto the ground.

“Fuck- I’m sorry” you mumble, steadying yourself against him. He looks down at you, and it feels as though aeons had passed since you had the warmth of his brown irises on you.

“Careful” he tells you quietly, his hand still on your elbow and the intensity of his gaze makes you look away. Pushing away from him, you nod your head making your way to the kitchen to pick up your lunch.

Putting away the box in your bag, you turn around and Beomgyu is staying at the same place, looking at you. Your raise an eyebrow at him questioningly, walking towards the coat hanger.

“I-“ Beomgyu starts and you notice how he is not wearing his work clothes.

“Don’t you have work today?” You ask him.

“Yeah- I took a half day” He answers. He is fidgeting with his hands and it makes you nervous too. Since, when did it become so awkward to talk to him?

The shrill of the calling bell, turns your attention away from him. Who would be visiting you at this hour, you wonder and start towards the door when Beomgyu overtakes you and opens it.

“Darling” his mother is immediately on him. You stand rooted to your spot. Why was his mom here? Why didn’t he tell you??

“Ah- Y/N’s still here!” His mother rushes to hug you and you’re nearly strangled in her hold. You look at Beomgyu, who shrugs his shoulders at you, helplessly.

“Beomie told me you couldn’t take a day off today, since you were busy with the new term” his mother let’s go off you and grasps your hands.

“He- did?” You ask her looking over at him.

“Yes- it’s so difficult to get you both together these days. Are you alright, sweetheart?” The concern in his mothers voice, doubles the guilt in your heart. You texted her often, but ever since the fight between you and Beomgyu you had not called her. But it seemed as though Beomgyu still had your back, making up excuses for you.

“I- I’m fine Aunty” you tell her, smiling and she warmly smiles back at you.

“Let me not keep you waiting. I was just visiting and I thought I’d catch you if I came a little early” she tells you, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Beomgyu will be dropping you right?”

“No- I- I’ll take the b-“ you start

“Yes” he cuts across you. His mother stands there looking at you and you give her an awkward smile.

“Really it’s no bother Gyu, I’ll take the bus” you tell him pointedly.

“Ah- let him drop you sweetheart. I don’t mind waiting” his mom tells you.

“Yeah- let me drop you” Beomgyu tells you.

“Okay then” you tell him. “Take care Aunty” you tell his mom, hugging her again.

“Oh I am! The medicines you send are doing wonders on my joints” she laughs, letting you go.

“Be sure to take them consistently” you tell her.

“Mmhmm” she answers smiling at you. Beomgyu hands over your coat to you and you take it, not knowing how to treat him.

“Wait” his mother calls out and you both turn around. “Just a quick picture” she tells you holding up her phone.

“Momm… she will be late for work” Beomgyu whines.

“It’s just a picture darling, quick now” she tells you and you stand next to Beomgyu.

“Put your arm around her now Beom” his mother chastens him and Beomgyu let’s out a cough before awkwardly placing his arm around your shoulder.

“Seriously, are you guys in a fight or something?” His mother asks, lowering her phone and looking at you with concern.

“No, no” you tell her immediately, pulling Beomgyu’s hand from your shoulder and placing it on your waist. You stand closer to him leaning your head against his shoulder.

You can feel the heat of his gaze, but you refuse to look at him. You hear the shutter of the camera and you nearly miss the way his hand squeezes your side.

“Lovely” his mom tells you looking at the picture.

“I really need to leave now Aunty” you tell her apologetically.

“Yes, yes- go. Have a good day sweetheart” she tells you.

Beomgyu’s hand is still around you and you look over at him.

“Well?” You ask questioningly.

“Yes-uh- bye Mom” he calls out hurriedly, snatching his hand away from you and rushing to the door.

-.-

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are” Beomgyu breaks the silence of your car ride. You’re about to reach the school. The entire ride was filled with tension and you couldn’t wait to get out of it.

“What” you ask him taking a gulp of water from your bottle.

“Don’t act as if you didn’t just want my arm around you” he tells you, smirking.

“What?” You ask nearly choking. “Do you even hear yourself?” You ask.

“I see right through your plan, Mrs. Choi” he says laughter evident in his voice.

You place your hand on his forehead and Beomgyu nearly swerves the car into the median.

“Your temperature is normal… maybe you should see a doctor. It could be internal brain damage” you tell him thoughtfully.

“Ha-ha-ha” Beomgyu mutters. Surely, he cannot afford to be so affected by a little of your touch.

You reach the school sooner than expected. Time held no meaning when you were with Beomgyu. You almost regret going to school today. Beomgyu stops the car at the front gate and you look over at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me your mom was coming? I could’ve taken a leave too” you tell him, eyes downcast.

“I didn’t wish to bother you. Besides it’s not right to demand you stay home just because my mom’s coming” Beomgyu tells you.

The sadness in his voice grips your heart and you feel helpless. You wanted to fix things. But by each passing day it felt as though Beomgyu was slipping further away from you.

You sigh quietly to yourself.

“Well, I guess I’ll get going then” you tell him, unlocking your seatbelt.

“Wait sweet- Y/N” Beomgyu starts and you look at him expectantly. “I-

The school bell rings distantly and Beomgyu stops.

“See you at home” he tells you, clearing his voice.

You nod your head at him before getting off the car.

“And by the way, don’t think I didn’t notice the way I literally had to pry your hands off of me” you tell him.

“YAH-“ you close the door cutting him off, giggling to yourself.

Maybe, just maybe, things might work out.

🎧 end of pt.2!!!! please please please interact with this post, it helps me out a ton🩷 currently working on pt.3 (it’s all there in my head ) xoxo 🎧

#txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu fic #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu angst #beomgyu au #txt angst #txt beomgyu #beomgyu x you #txt x you #moablr #beomgyu #beomgyu soft hours

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