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[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Jungle Pool SOS!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: when kyoya offers up his families yet to open resort no one could have guessed what would actually happen. ➼ what to expect: “I have a duty of care for you" ➼ warnings: none ➼ Part six | Part eight

Now considering this was technically considered a club activity you have to admit this was the most relaxed you had been in a while. The sun beaming down on you while you sun bathe, even the usual drama of host club antics get lost in the serenity of an empty resort.

"I must admit Kyoya, when I joked a few years ago that the ootori group should create a holiday resort and label it as a form of therapy I didn't think you took it seriously" you muse, eyes closed as you bring in the sun rays.

Kyoya shrugs but quickly remembers that you can't actually see him "Believe it or not I don't completely disregard your ideas, expecially when they truly have merit, my father seemed to agree"

You hum knowingly at what he actually meant by that statement "I'm assuming that he doesn't know that it was my idea then" You tease, not really being that mad about the stolen idea, it wasn't like Kyoya was getting any direct monetary profit from the resort. "I did try crediting you but he had a hard time believing a fifteen year old girl came up with it by herself"

You weren't exactly surprised, you had met Kyoya's father after all, you knew what it was like by now. Luckily you were too relaxed to care at that moment.

There was a moment of silence, peace between the two of you. It was actually something you enjoyed when spending time with Kyoya, the two of you never forced conversation for the sake of it, which on it's own sounds sad but it makes any words that the two of you do exchange all the more important.

"If...you have any more ideas like that...tell me about them...I can at least appreciate a good idea when it comes from you" you laughed under your breath, "Well of course" lifting your sunglasses to rest against your head, sitting up to face him properly "You have taste"

"Why thank you my dear" he joked, taking a sip of his drink, watching chaoes unfold as Tamaki and the Twins argue over what Haruhi should wear. Typical.

“Haru-chan! Let’s play! You wanna go swimming in the current pool with me?” Honey tugs on Haruhi’s arm with a pink float decorated with bunnies clinging to his waist.

“Nah. I’m not gonna swim today. Hold on. You know how to swim; you still need that float?”

Honey shakes his head, “Mm-mm. Just looks cuter this way, you know?” Honey spins on his heel to go prancing in the other direction toward the current pool.

“Mm, he’s right. Those bunnies are pretty cute.”

“He’s so innocent.” The twins materialize on either side of your chair despite the umbrella above them.

You sigh, leaning back in your sun lounger basking in the controlled chaos you are used to.

“No way! You’ve got it all wrong!”

You start, awakened by a powerful rumbling in the ground and echoing voice.

“Is that Renge?” Haruhi turns her head to the offending sound.

A cabana splits in half, and the trees part to make way for her infamous contraption, the rumbling sound now accompanied by her shrill laugh.

“How does she do that? It’s like the rig follows us.” Haruhi sweats.

you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose "One day, all i want is one day"

“That outfit’s pretty impressive,” Hikaru observes Renge’s two-piece bikini and a tattoo winding up her ribcage.

“What’s with the tattoo on your stomach?” Kaoru inquires.

“Oh, that? You don’t recognize it? I’m cosplaying.”

“Yeah, as who?”

“La-La~”

“LaLa? Like the manga magazine?” Kaoru grumbles.

“Her petite and slender frame, her blue eyes that light up young men’s faces, her singing voice! I am Quon Kisaragi!” Renge extolls.

“I wouldn’t have guessed.” Haruhi sneers.

“I had no idea who you were supposed to be.” Tamaki shrugs.

Once again, the twins and Tamaki are huddled in a circle as Renge poses for Haruhi, who watches, miffed.

“Hey, Boss, are you sure it’s okay for Renge to be dressed-”

“-like that?” They point to the girl in question.

“Well, yeah. That’s okay.” Tamaki shrugs indifferently.

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s cosplay? I guess.”

“Listen up, boys! You obviously need help understanding Haninozuka’s hidden motives. Look!” Renge notes, pointing over to Honey and Mori.

“Takashi!” Honey calls, landing in the current pool and letting the current sweep him gently away as Mori watches fondly.

“What are you talking about?” Tamaki implores.

“Think about what he said to you earlier.”

“Just looks cuter this way, you know?”

“He’s not being as sweet and innocent as you think.”

From the chair next to you, Kyoya shoves his glasses up his nose, “I agree. Try putting the word 'I’ at the beginning of that sentence.”

“I just look cuter this way, you know?”

“I look cute!”

“He planned that?!”

“That’s Haninozuka for you. In the last part, he felt threatened by another loli-boy type, so he’s taken steps to keep his rank. I should give him more credit. He’s a lot smarter than I thought.” Renge descends into the ground and disappears.

“Hey! Look at this, everybody!” Honey draws everyone’s attention to him and Mori.

Mori swims diligently against the current with Honey on his back.

“Check it out! Look! Even though we’re swimming really fast, we never go any farther than we are now!” He waves excitedly.

“So, what’s up with him?” Tamaki groans.

“Could he really be that smart?” Haruhi interjects.

Hikaru cocks his super-soaker water gun; the squeaking draws Tamaki’s attention to them before he’s blasted in the face with a stream of water.

“I got ya!” Hikaru winks handsomely, resting his weapon of choice on his shoulder.

“C'mon, Boss, let’s go! Let’s have a water gun fight.”

“It’ll be me and Kaoru against you. If you get it in the face, you lose. What do you say?” Hikaru implores, hand on his hip.

“Forget it.” Tamaki dries his face, “Why would I want to subject myself to a childish game like that?”

An idea forms in each of the twins’ minds.

All of a sudden, you’re grabbed by your wrist and pulled from your nap with an exclamation of surprise.

“y/n, I think it’s time that we got married! Then we’ll honeymoon in Atami!”

You quickly break from their hold, sitting back down on the lounger really not wanting to get involved. "Considering if y/n was going to marry anyone it would be me you clearly haven't thought through your plan very well" Kyoya spoke up, glaring at the twins before nodding towards haruhi.

The twins quickly pick up what he's putting down "Good point Kyoya, we were thinking about this all wrong, Haruhi clearly is the better option SHE should marry us"

"gee thanks" you mutter but its clear that it did the job of pissing off Tamaki, breaking out a waterfight between the three of them.

“I’ll get you guys! Sideways-leaping shot!” Tamaki launches himself sideways, but the twins shield themselves with two comically large tiki masks.

“That’s cheating!” When Tamaki lands, his foot catches on the previously discarded banana peel, and he tumbles noisily into a totem pole, head first.

You wince and suck in a breath through clenched teeth, “Oh- that didn’t sound good.”

One by one, the animals on the totem pole’s eyes glow an intimidating red until the final animal at the top is shining.

You remove your sunglasses from your eyes and place them on your head, “That… doesn’t sound good either.”

As if he senses something is amiss, Mori drops his glass at your feet, attention diverting to Honey in the current pool, still carelessly kicking his feet.

Something underneath the water rumbles, and a wave develops until it’s practically a tsunami. With wide eyes, Honey watches as it heads straight towards him.

“Wah~!” It crashes over him, and his bunny float is sent soaring into the air- but without him inside as he’s flushed in the wave.

“Honey-Senpai!” You lurch from your chair, and your sunglasses fall discarded to the ground.

“Mitsukuni!”

Both you and Mori hurry to see if you have enough time to save him, but Mori slips on the same banana peel and falls harshly to the unforgiving concrete.

“Mori-Senpai,” You call in concern.

Tamaki jabs a heroic finger in the air, “Gentlemen, we’re going after Honey-Senpai! That pool looks like the quickest way!” he announces, referring to the pool Honey was treading water in before he was washed away.

“Charge!” Haruhi, Mori, and the twins follow Tamaki’s lead as they sprint haphazardly in a random direction.

As you see that Kyoya’s stayed put, you decide that it might be best to stay put as well. His family did build this resort, after all.

“Wait! I wouldn’t go-”

It’s already too late; the club has come across the alligators in that direction. “There are alligators in there!” They flee as quickly as they can.

Tamaki jabs another heroic finger in the air, “Okay. So we can’t use that pool, then let’s try this way next!”

But where Tamaki has pointed, several more alligators appear, snapping their jaws in a warning.

“They’re here too!”

“And here!”

With his more petite, brown leather portable notebook, Kyoya’s glasses glint off the sun as he explains your current situation.

“Those alligators belong to the park’s tropical animals exhibit. I guess it is kind of dangerous to let them run wild.”

“And yet i'm supposedly the one with bad ideas?” You huff in frustration, peering at Kyoya from your crouched position on your nap chair.

“Though, the cause of our present situation seems to be the location of the switch for the current pool. I’ll have to have a little chat with our designers.” He snaps the notebook shut.

“Thanks a lot, you guys. I got some great data today.”

“You what?!” The club exclaims.

“Ok I'll admit that is a little smart" You shrug.

“This is a map of the Tropical Aqua Garden. This is our current location. We need to get here- I have a feeling that’s where Honey-Senpai probably ended up. It might be tough, because to get there, we’ll have to make it this jungle area in the southern block.”

Kyoya drags his pen along the map to indicate your path, “Distance-wise, we’re talking about 800 meters.”

“It looks like there’s a lot of undeveloped areas. And idea what might be lurking in those parts of the jungle?” Haruhi cautiously inquires.

“Since they’re still being developed, I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“Yeah, someone’s going to have to carry me.” You lift your arms high and glance around for any takers.

None. Yet. You’re going to have to work on your skills.

“Whatever’s out there could be even more dangerous-”

“-than alligators.”

“Alright. Now, this is a mission of survival! I know we can make it through the treacherous jungle in one piece… It is our sworn duty to save Honey-Senpai!”

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In the dense plant life and humidity of the inner workings of the jungle, the sunlight is much more filtered than it was out in the open.

“Wow, this place is just like a real jungle, huh?”

If you couldn’t see the glass dome and someone had dropped you off in the middle of this theme park with no knowledge as to how you got there, you might have believed you were in the jungle.

“Yeah, and I keep hearing all of these really strange animal calls,” Haruhi grumbles.

“You don’t think that all of those animal sounds-”

“-could belong to the real thing, do you?”

Kyoya shrugs, “To be honest, I’m not sure, but I do know that my family always strives for authenticity whatever the cost.”

"There surely must be some kind of ethical issue if that is the case, wouldn't be a good healing facility if there is a serious alligator injury" you pointed out, suprised that Kyoya's family would put actually dangerous animals in an enclosed area.

Kyoya hummed "I suppose so but it also wouldn't surprise me if that was on purpose to drive more business to our hospitals" he muttered only loud enough for you to hear really. It didn't surprise you either really but you dreaded to think if that was actually the case.

As if on cue, Mori slips and falls behind the group. At the loud grunt and crash, you all turn to him. He lays unmoving with a banana peel on his face.

“Mori-Senpai is-”

“-acting as clumsy as you do, Boss.” Hikaru and Kaoru worry.

“Shut up!” Tamaki snarls as Mori sits up from his position on the ground.

Your accusations are correct- Mori is more worried than you can imagine.

The sunlight diminishes greatly, and you look overhead to see the beginnings of rainfall.

“Uh-oh, it’s about time for the squall,” Kyoya notes as he checks his wristwatch.

“Huh?”

The first few drops fall, then it turns into a downpour. You and the club take refuge in a nearby pavilion with a straw roof.

“Hey, Mori-Senpai. You seem to be really close with Honey-Senpai. Are the two of you like childhood friends?” Haruhi inquires from her seat in the pavilion beside the twins as Mori leans on the edge, watching the raindrops fall.

"You don't know?" hikaru asked "They're cousins" Kaoru added. You lean back against the wall of the shelter you are all in, sighing as you look out into the rain.

"Now this is the kind of rain that I remember" you mutter to yourself, the rain reminding you of europe. Kyoya also leans against the wall next to you "Hello? It's me. Well, we've had an incident that's caused some trouble"

you look up to see Kyoya on the phone, most likely to either his father or someone high up in his private police force. "No she's fine. yes she's unharmed" You raised an eyebrow, obvious that he was talking about you although you were confused on why whoever he was talking to was asking about you.

In the mean time Mori and Haruhi seem to wander off "Yes, at once, please" he finally put down the phone. "My family's private police force is going to send in a search and rescue team to help us, they're better equipped to find Honey-senpai than we are. so let's just go back to the gate and wait there"

The others weren't listening except for you, too busy arguing over Haruhi. "Hey, where are Mori and Haruhi?" he questioned as all of you left the shelter to head for the gate, but he shrugged it off, figuring they would show up at some point with a search and rescue team around.

The other boys rush ahead, still arguing "when you were on the phone before, you were talking about me? weren't you?" You ask kyoya, looking up at him as he looks ahead. "I was, why do you ask?"

You dead pan at him, head tilting at the side "You know why"

Kyoya sighs "you know I have a duty of care for you, as does my father, if I call up our police force when it is known that I am with you it is protocol to ask about your safety" he explains.

He pauses, stopping in his tracks "You know, I'm don't believe I mentioned to them that there are other visitors here. Huh. Oh well" He shrugs carrying on, hovering a hand over your back to urge you forward.

however instead of finding the gate you instead find a series of police officers on the floor with honey, Mori and Haruhi standing before them. We break out into a run at the sight of them "Haruhi!" Tamaki cries.

"Are you alright?" he adds, the five of you out of breath as you come to a halt "Hey its Tama-chan!" Honey says as if he hadn't just knocked out a dozen guards.

"You okay, senpai?" Hikaru asks. "Haruhi!!!" Tamaki leaps for her "I was so worried" the twins bend down to check on the guards "I'm not sure what happened here, but at least they're alive"

"It's pretty amazing that this is Honey sepai's work"

"He must have been really holding back" they continue to poke at the guards

"Huh?"

“What do you mean he was holding back?” Haruhi queries with innocent eyes, although Tamaki is in serious pain.

“So then-”

“-you don’t know about Senpai?” The twins seem bewildered by her lack of knowledge.

“The Haninozukas are famous for their martial arts. Not only have they helped train the police and SDF forces, but they’ve also worked with several overseas military forces.” Hikaru elaborates as they abandon their fascination with the grounded soldiers.

“Honey-Senpai, in particular, has been called the dreadnaught of the Haninozuka family. By the time he was in middle school, he’d become the national champion in both karate and judo.”

Honey turns when he feels he’s called, then giggles with closed eyes.

That’s the karate and judo champion for you.

“Mori-Senpai’s no slouch either. He won the national championship in kendo when he was just in middle school.”

Haruhi looks to her savior, and he turns when his name is mentioned.

“So how were you able to find us, Honey-Senpai?” the twins inquire as Honey has returned to his natural aura.

“It wasn’t hard. It didn’t take me long to reach the end of the current pool, so I decided to look for you guys.”

“We humbly apologize!” A different, more foreign voice pipes in, and the attention of the club directs to the soldiers, now reoriented from their initial shock and kneeling to the ground in a show of respect.

“I am a second-generation student of the Ishizuka Dojo!”

“I’m a student of the Todoroki Dojo!”

“And I’m from the Otakeh Dojo! We are in your debt!”

Honey’s eyes and posture display innocence and confusion, “Why? Is something wrong?” His voice can easily be mistaken for an eight-year-old boy’s.

“Yes, sir! We’re so sorry, sir! We were unaware that we were searching for Mitsukuni Haninozuka! We’ve committed a terrible offense here! I apologize for this confrontation. But my dojo will be so excited to hear that I’ve come face to face with the great Haninozuka! I cherish this moment!”

You snort, scooting closer to Kyoya, “I bet if he offered them an autograph, they’d pass out.” You snicker. You almost draw a smile from him, but rather he gives you a condescending look.

“What? I bet I’m not wrong.” You pout.

Honey takes Mori by the wrist and gently brings him down to his level, patting him gingerly on the forehead, “Takashi~ you did an amazing job of protecting Haru-chan.”

This patronizing show of affection elicits a smile from Kyoya as he adjusts his glasses.

“I bet you were pretty lonely without me around, huh?”

Mori’s eyes dart to the right where Haruhi is stood, “I don’t know if I’d say that.”

Honey smiles with a fond giggle.

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With the sun setting, the clear, blue water now fades to an orange, coral color as it washes upon the shore. It has taken the rest of the day to walk back to where you’d begun this journey.

Despite his earlier resentment, you now ride on Kyoya’s back, limp arms slung around his neck and your cheek pressed to his back, eyes contently shut.

Back to your much deserved nap.

“You know, maybe we should go to the beach next.” The twins stride ahead with arms casually thrown behind their heads.

“Yeah, the beach would be nice.” Kaoru agrees.

Kyoya glances over his shoulder at your relaxed features and smiles fondly. He’ll have to keep you away from the water.

“You idiots, Haruhi’s not interested in anything like that.” Tamaki scoffs confidently.

Haruhi smiles gently, “Actually, I might like to go to the beach.” It stuns the club, each one stopping in their tracks to look at her.

“I may not be into this silly water park but I like the ocean. It would be nice to go the beach, and it’s so pretty.”

Completely recovered and acting like he hasn’t just opposed it, Tamaki glitters, “Yeah! Alright. Then that’s where we’ll go next time.”

“We’re all gonna go to the beach, Tama-chan?” Honey quips, perched on Mori’s shoulders.

He hums gently, “That’ll be fun, don’t you think?” His inquiry is directed to Mori below him.

Mori simpers fondly, “Yeah,” It’s not hard to pick up the genuine agreement in his tone.

Next time on patience 'The Sun, the sea, and the host club!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000

[roturo]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ OH! SO YOU'RE INTO OLDER MEN?

˚₊·➳❥ JJK MEN SHOWING YOU HOW A REAL MEN FUCKS! satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro ✧˚ · .

tags: afab!reader, reader is mentioned as a female, use of nicknames (baby, princess, doll, slut, whore), cheating, degradation, caught cheating, getting caught, unprotected sex, blowjob, pussy slapping, mating press, breeding, age-gaps, virginity loss [...] rbs are appreciated!

satoru gojo (Daddy’s girl)

well, that’s the word he used for the little girl you're babysitting right now. he’s a great dad and husband. there’s just this tiny whiny little thing he couldn’t do right– and that’s loving his wife as he should.

like– it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilty, it’s just… well, you looked really cute in that mini dress, he and his wife have been fighting lately anddd– he could tell his daughter liked you more than her fatality of mother she has these days. she even called you mommy by accident once! and that was the last water drop gojo needed for the glass to break.

“Oh- I bet you’d love to be full of me right now.” His thrusts became messier each time he pounded on you, “Mhh, fill you up ‘n make me a daddy again– you’d like that princess?” you couldn’t even talk anymore with how good he’s making you feel– he had your legs pressed on the bed thanks to his arms, almost bending you in half, he was making sure that mating press works.

“Ffffuckk- You feel s’good baby” He felt your walls clenching again, no matter how many times he made you come, he’s making sure you’re coming again after he does. A not ending cycle for him. “Such a slut for me hm? Coming all nice and pretty to this house just to be ruined at night–” his words made you feel dirty, but the euphoria of it was stronger, “such” slap, “a nasty” slap, “slut” slap– “and all f’me” with those last thrusts your body couldn’t take it anymore, spasming and trembling while your poor hole was filled up again. gojo’s wife didn’t even bothered to break your little encounter, she suspected it long time ago.

all that was left was a wide grinning gojo satoru and some divorce papers.

suguru geto (Daddy’s best-friend)

you didn’t intend this to happen… you always knew your dad’s best-friend was hot. he’s geto, ‘cmon. he brings a new girl every weekend whispering in your dad’s ear swearing she’s the one this time.

he saw you grow up, turn into this beautiful and strong woman. so how he couldn’t love you? you were like a doll for him, so beautiful and radiant in every way. a porcelain doll he needed to protect, he couldn’t lose you to any dangerous or stupid man, he swears he would beat the shit out of the guy who breaks your heart first.

“Shhiiiitt– Heh– I can tell how tight your pussy is princess–” His cock was stretching the living shit out of you, touching places never in a thousand years you could imagine you would feel. “what d’ya think daddy would say if he saw his little girl being fucked by his best-friend huh?” your brain was a fuzzy mess, you couldn’t make coherent words to say, and just feel how good geto is making you feel. you couldn’t remember how many times he had made you cum with his toungue and he’s just starting to fuck your pussy.

“ ‘m such a lucky guy if i'm the first you’re giving this pussy to, don’t ya think so doll? marking it as mine, baby I swear you’ll need no man to ever fuck this pussy of yours again– shit I won’t need another woman for myself, you’re the one baby” those words filled your heart of a tingly feeling, making more butterflies roam around your tummy, touching yourself you could sense geto’s cock coming and leaving with every thrust, your brain full of air and in need of more of his cock.

he couldn’t resist himself anymore when he was next to you, his cock would get hard the minute he enters your house, and thankfully he has a pretty doll to release himself with.

kento nanami (Big Boss)

Nanami thinks he’s a good and mature guy– At least for his wife and kids… He has this aura of a serious and mature guy but inside every time he’s just this close to breaking it, just to say what he really thinks or feels.

the first time he saw you at work with your tiny skirts and tight blouses he didn’t mind any type of attention to it, you were another cute worker, that’s all. One of another– he can think other women are pretty too right? maybe even prettier than his wife… and nicer, and cuter, and more homely feeling to be a mom. but he wouldn't do anything he would later regret right?...

“You’re s’pretty baby, such a dirty whore for my cock mhm?” he had you pounding from behind, his desk becoming even messier than it was before, one of his hands keeping you laid down on the desk arching your back like if he’s trying to break it– a sudden ringing brought you back from your unconsciousness of nanami’s cock– he answered the call, not a single sing of him trying to stop thrusting into you.

“Yeah?” his voice was out of breath, almost sounding like a sigh when he answered the call, “Where am I? Huh– I’m at the office r-right now…?” he wasn’t even sure if he could keep this act, losing himself more in the feeling of your pussy clenching on his cock– “Oh yeah- I’m okay, uhh- the kids? yyeah, yeah, they’re with my mom right now–” the feeling of keeping up a call with his wife while fucking you made his cock twitch inside of you, feeling like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time. it was no surprise for him that his wife was cheating, but he wanted to keep it like that for the sanity of his kids. 

“Quit the act Kento– I know you’re fucking somebody else right now. See ya at home.”

toji fushiguro (Step-Daddy)

you hated when your mother started dating new guys. they just kept breaking her heart– but you just stopped telling her that it's okay to live without a partner, that she had you by her side, but well… this new man was something else i guess and you didn’t say anything for the sake of your own good mother.

you didn’t like him, but for the sake of your mother you pretended like you do– and let’s be honest, toji doesn’t like children, so when he first met you he wasn’t as social as others… your mom was just too good to simply let go– but the way you moved, talked, dressed caught his attention, and as time passes and he spends more time with your mom– he's no longer drawn to your house just to see your mother, but to see you. 

“Sshhiit- You’re making me feel s’good baby” the lack of air was making you feel giddy, but the way his cock twitched inside your mouth made your core get even wetter. “C’mon baby, ride my shoe,” you wasted no time before your hips started moving, trying to gain some friction and release that tingly feeling coming from your core. 

“D’ya think your mother would like to see her daughter being full of his step-daddy’s cum?” he gets one of his arms behind himself trying to gain some support while his other free hand caresses your cheeks while you continue sucking– this same hand moves out your head and frees his cock out of your mouth, a small strand of saliva connecting your mouth with it–

“Fuck– guess i choose the wrong out of you two”

[nickfowlerrr]

right where i need you

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. established relationship. fluff. unprotected sex in the kitchen - sorry not sorry. and not much else, really! if i’m forgetting something pls lmk.

words: 2.3k

notes: i haven’t stopped thinking about him in that damn white tank since i first saw it and honestly i don’t know if i ever will. here’s just some random smut for you, inspired ofc by said white tank, please enjoy. thank you in advance for reading and as always - reblogs and comments are welcome and so appreciated! let me know what you think. 🩵

You can’t be held responsible for this.

It’s really not your fault.

He’s the one looking so…him.

It took one little look. And now here you are.

You’re not complaining! But when your phone starts ringing with texts in about fifteen minutes asking where you are and why you’re late, well… you can deal with that later.

You had padded down the hall, hair and makeup done and dress unzipped with your heels in your hand.

Did you really need his help to zip it up? No. But you can’t pass up the opportunity to feel his hands on you, even for a second.

He got home not too long ago so you know where you’ll find him, but he hasn’t come into the room to say hello, so you’re not exactly sure how you’ll find him.

You started considering skipping out on girls night the second you heard him come in without his usual greeting, and that is still definitely on the table. You haven’t been seeing him as often as either of you would like lately, and as much as you love your friends, you had brunch together last weekend, it’s not like it’s been ages… They wouldn’t be too upset, you’re sure.

You decided you’d make up your mind when you saw Bucky.

You find him exactly where you knew you would. He stands at the kitchen counter, his hair mussed, shirt discarded as he’s clad in his black pants and white under tank. He’s hunched over a bit and yet he still looks so big.

You smile wearily as you assess him from behind. He seems tense and tired and you can easily guess why. He’s been working nonstop for the past two weeks, you know he’s exhausted.

You walk closer to him and he turns to face you as you near his back.

He may be exhausted but damn he always manages to still look good. You’re almost envious of his natural allure.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets with a rumble as you reach out to touch him, your hand on his side as you step closer to him. His own find your waist as he pulls you in to hug you. “You look beautiful as ever,” he murmurs softly, holding you tighter than you’d expected.

“Hi, baby,” you ease back. It’s not a pet name you use often, but it slips so easily from your tongue as he holds you and you hug him back.

“Thought you woulda been gone already,” he says as you pull back from him, your eyes meeting as he keeps his hands on you.

“Not yet,” you say, “can you zip me?”

He smiles at you and you turn around, allowing him access to the zipper. He keeps a hand on your hip as he slowly works the zipper up the dress, taking his sweet time. Once he’s got it, he runs his big hand down your back and then settles it on your other hip, giving you a squeeze.

“Thank you,” you say, turning to face him once more, “So,” you broach, “how was your day?”

“Ah, we don’t need to talk about that right now,” he tries to brush off.

“Bucky,” you start to admonish before he interrupts you.

“Have I seen this dress before?” He asks as his hands wander along the fabric, his eyes following your every curve.

You sigh, letting it go for now, “No, it’s new.”

“Looks good on you,” he compliments.

“Thank you,” you smile with a titter.

He blinks at you, his eyes swimming with something you aren’t sure you can name as his big hands find your bottom.

“I’ve missed you so much, you know that?”

You nod, softening as you step closer to him, “I’ve been missing you, too.”

He gives your ass as squeeze as you lean into him and you don’t even realize you’re doing it as you let your gaze wander down his sturdy chest to where his tank top is still tucked into his pants. He’s so built and so big, you’re damn near obsessed. And God, you really have been missing him.

His warmth, his touch, his everything.

You only realize you were biting your lip as his thumb comes up to pull it from your teeth. And you only realize your hand has been drifting down his thick, strong torso when you brush the top of his pants.

You meet his eye and you need no other warning of what’s about to come as you see the longing there.

His hand is holding your face as he licks his lips without thought. His eyes drift from yours to your lips and then all at once he’s on you.

His kiss is fervent and hot as he leads you. You let him turn you as you’re entirely enraptured in his kiss. You don’t recognize the counter at your backside as you kiss him back until he lifts you up without warning. His strength is always so impressive to you as you yip and reach to hold onto him despite the fact you’re already sitting safely by the time you do.

Your legs spread enough to welcome him as he stands between them, your dress already ridden up your thick thighs. His kisses are incessant as he holds you, his hands and lips both wandering what belongs to him.

Your hands are in his thick, dark hair as he attacks your neck and you can’t help the moan that slips past your lips. You can feel his smile against your skin as he hears it, like music to his ears.

You pull him closer with your leg around him as he pushes up the material of your dress until it’s around your waist. His hands move higher and once he finds the top of your dress, he pulls it down too, taking your strapless bra with it. He unhooks it easily and tosses it aside while avoiding unzipping the dress for you.

His mouth is on your full breasts the moment he exposes them; licking, nipping, sucking at your nipples while your back arches and you moan at the feeling.

“Buck,” you eke out your plea, tugging at him.

He doesn’t stop but his hands do move down to undo his pants. He pulls away after a second and pushes them down enough to free his stiff cock. He pulls you closer to him and then drags your silky panties down, tossing them with your bra before he situates himself back between your spread legs.

The feeling of his hand on your bare thigh is enough to set you on fire. He squeezes the ample softness there as he feels you, letting his hand slide up your leg to hold your hip.

You’re definitely gonna be late now, but it really isn’t your fault. They can’t blame you. And even if they could, you don’t think you’d really care.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you feel his cock head at your entrance.

“So wet,” he murmurs as he drags himself up and down your slit teasingly, earning a whimper from you. “I know, baby,” he chuckles, looking up to meet your puppy dog eyes, “I know. I’m gonna give it to ya, know exactly what you need, sweetheart,” he says, his words smooth as silk as he talks huskily.

He guides himself back to your slick entrance and right before he starts to push into you, he makes sure your eyes are on him, and of course they are.

You hold eye contact as he slowly moves into you, your lips parting on a gasp the deeper he goes. Your hands are messed in his hair again as your walls involuntarily squeeze his length inside of you.

“Fuck,” you breathe. You pull him closer, angling yourself to kiss him again as he slides the rest of the way into your tight pussy. He kisses you back just as fervently as before as he starts to pull out of you before thrusting right back in. His thick cock dragging perfectly along your tight walls as he fucks you. His hand tightens on your hip as you squeeze him again, his eyes squeezing shut as he moans in turn, but his pace never faltering.

You wrap your arms around his neck and press yourself to him as he holds your waist. His cock hitting deeper with his every thrust. You’re already on the brink of your orgasm as you bury your face in his neck, breathing him in as he fucks you in perfect time. His grunts and groans and moans fill your ears as your own spur him on.

“Missed you so fucking much,” he pants as he squeezes you again. You kiss his stubbled jaw, arching into him, “Missed you,” you mewl. You suddenly feel his thumb on your clit and you gasp out your moan.

“Bucky,” you cry, hands gripping his solid back.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he husks, “come on. Let go, baby. Come for me. Need to feel you come around my cock,” he grits, working your clit in tight circles as you clench around him, eyes squeezing shut and arms holding him ever tighter. “Need to feel you,” he begs a little quieter, almost as if he was talking to himself.

You can’t hold back any longer as his cock hits that special spot inside you once again while his thumb is ceaseless on your sensitive clit. Your face is in his neck as you quake against him, coming hard. Your body feels alight and electric, sparks of unadulterated pleasure shooting through you as you shudder and moan at the overwhelming feeling. Waves of ecstasy washing over you as you moan and whine in Bucky’s ear.

He doesn’t relent as he works you through your high and pushes himself closer to his own, praises for you and groans of his own pleasure sounding from him as he fucks you, making sure you feel every inch of him, his hands gripping your ass as he keeps you close.

Your walls pulsing around his length have him growling as he teeters on the edge of his orgasm, but it’s your soft moan in his ear as you hold onto him that really pushes him over the edge. You sound so pleased, so satisfied and debauched and it’s all because of him. It’s all for him.

You gasp as he comes inside you, curses of pleasure and your name on his tongue, his hot cum filling you up as he slows his thrusts. You feel his lips on your temple and then your cheek as he kisses you gently while he comes down. Your walls still squeezing him softly as you do the same until he finally pulls out of you, tucking himself away.

You hold his face in your hands, admiring him for a moment before you pull him closer for a kiss. He still stands between your legs as he lets you pull him further into you before you finally let him go.

“I’ve really missed you,” you murmur. “I know you’re off all next month, and we’ll be around each other, be able to make up for lost time,” you smirk coyly, “but,” you breathe, “still, I kinda just wanna stay here with you tonight.“

“Yeah?” he asks with a half smile, “what about girl’s night?”

“They’ll survive without me.”

“You really don’t have to cancel your plans for me, sweetheart,” he assures you, that look in his eye telling you more than his words. He doesn’t think you mean it, doesn’t want to seem like he wants you to stay just as badly as you want to… “I think I need some alone time, anyway,” he adds - now avoiding your eye as he speaks, and only fueling your previous suspicions as he fixes the top of your dress, taking a second before he wraps his arms around you. You let your own slide around his neck as he rests his head on your chest.

“I don’t think I believe you,” you reply easily with a kiss to his hair before you urge him back and get off the counter.

He watches you as you turn around, your back to him. “Unzip me?”

He does as you ask, after a few seconds.

You shimmy the dress off and don’t look back to him as you go for your phone set on the opposite counter. You shoot your friends a text letting them know not to expect you tonight as you feel Bucky at your back.

“You don’t have to stay for me,” he says again, even softer now.

You turn to face him, meeting his eye, “Tell me you want me to leave, and I will,” you say.

He bites his lip as he watches you intently, shaking his head a bit before he speaks, “I can’t.”

“Didn’t think so,” you smile triumphantly.

You take his hand in yours and pull him out of the kitchen, down the hall to your shared bedroom. He follows with no complaint.

“You shower, I’ll clean myself up a bit, then cuddles and talking, and then… round two?”

“And three,” he agrees, pulling your naked body against his still clothed one before he kisses you again. “And dinner somewhere in between.”

“Sounds good,” you smile against his lips. “The usual?”

He nods, “I’ll call it in when we get outta the shower.”

“We?” you quirk a brow, noticing the twinkle of mischief in his bright blue eyes just a moment too late.

You yelp as he picks you up effortlessly in his inhumanly strong arms, his mirthful chuckle sending butterflies alight in your belly as he smiles that charming smile at you.

“We,” he confirms, walking you both into the bathroom, with no complaint from you as you relax in his hold.

God, have you missed this.

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be��� cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[unknownmads]

CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT INMATE TOJI AND CUTE LITTLE Y/N WHOS SO NAIVE TO BIG BAD TOJI

CW: Slight smut (mentions of his pp🤭)

☆☆☆

thinking about Prison toji who you met when your college has you do a little project in your criminal psychology class. The project was make a penpal get to know them ask why they are in prision, what their lives before was like, do they regret what they did etc. basic questions of course all you had to do was get the most information out of the penpal about their personal lives as you could.

Prison Toji who only signed up for the program because it was part of his latest court order saying he ‘needed more understanding’ so a penpal would give him a friend while they stay safe😭 he ofc hated the idea and thought it was the dumbest shit ever. until he got his first letter, from you (duh).

Prison toji who got mail for the first time and it was a little white envelope with a cute little sticker sealing it. He deadpanned *is my penpal an idiot these letters are for a prison not a daycare* he silently judges examining every detail as he opened the letter. i read the letter taking in every little personal detail you shared with him, your cute little name, how you loved your cat, how you’re new to the city only just moving for school, of course the boring questions for him as well. But at the very end of the letter he noticed an extra little note.

Ps. i left a few photos of myself along with some of my cat! i think it’s only fair since i got to see your photo on the website

Prison toji who grabs the envelope he previously had thrown to the side and pulls out 3 polaroids. One of you and probably your cat you’re dragging it into the photo with a big grin on your face. the second is a photo of your face a soft smile on your lips meant for whoever took the photo but Toji couldn’t help but wonder if that little smile was for him. Until he pulls out the third photo it’s a full view of you, you’re out in the city dressed all out, and Toji couldn’t help but know you chose that photo just for him.

Prison Toji who can’t wait to finally get some alone time so he can truly appreciate your pretty photos. And immediately goes to write you back answering all your cute little questions. Telling you where he lived before, how he ended up there, telling you what he did for work before (Surprise he sold drugs😍), telling you what he does to occupy his time here (he works out he just wanted an excuse to tell you how strong he is), and he asks you some questions.

Prison Toji who has been relentlessly flirting with since you started writing to him, asking if you had a boyfriend, how your school was going, why you moved to the city, how a cute lil thing like you is still single. You had been writing each other for a few weeks now which is a lot less than you think when you know how long mail takes. But your letters to each other are long. answering every little thing each other asks, learning about one another more and more. You had really connected so you finally ask him the big question he read the words as clear as day.

~Do you think i could come pay you a visit? ~

Prison Toji who had to immediately write back answering the most important question first.

~ And doll, you can come visit me anytime id love to finally meet you and see your pretty face in person~

he wanted to be nonchalant.

Prison Toji who was sitting in bed looking at your photos when he was called

“Zenin, you’ve got a visitor. away from the door.”

Prison Toji silently followed standing on the other side of the cell while the guard came in to handcuff him and bring him to the visiting area. Once he was in the room his cuffs connecting him to the table he waited. until he heard the door open again. He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he saw the guard guide you in. You were wide eyed taking in the new environment until they landed on him.

Prison Toji was large, you knew he was tall and muscular thanks to his letters and photo but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal. Eyes widening even more when you fully take him in. seated At the grey metal table his hands on the table as the guard had told him to. his hair poking at his eyes which were staring drinking you in. his lip in a smirk helping you notice the scar on it which you couldn’t really see from the grainy prison photos. His shirt stretched against his muscles showing off a few tattoos hidden along his skin. the view making you squeeze your thighs together to release some of the pressure building.

Prison Toji who took in as much of you as he could as he watched you shuffle into your seat across from him, enjoying how you squirmed slightly within his gaze, his smirk growing into an almost full smile.

“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”

[jojikawa]

Beauty and the Beast

An event where you are a woman in the 50s trying to turn the head of your neighbor, Francis Mosses when you are stalked and pursued by his evil counterpart.

Art by ilameys

Zettai Zetsumei • Co shu Nie

Word Count: 5.7k

⚠️: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT ♥ Manhandling, Slight body horror descriptions, descriptions of blood, himbo!doppelgänger!Francis Mosses, Yandere Behavior, Mentions of Stalking, sexualization of the female MC by Fake Francis, SMUT(CNC, mentions of a "rape kit"), and monster cock.

I write for free, but if you wanna further support me > Ko-Fi 🎀

Life was somewhat boring for you as a woman in the 50s. Despite being sought after by a lot of the men in your apartment complex, you had your heart set on one man. You only got to see him once a day. Francis Mosses. When he would deliver milk to your door in the morning. No matter how cute or cherry you were, it seemed like his mind was set on other things. The man always looked tired but you thought he was handsome no matter what. Maybe even more handsome…it was just something about hot men being tired that made them so much hotter.

You had hoped that eventually, he’d notice you and finally take you on a date!

But that hope soon faded when you read the newspapers. They talked about how doppelgängers are becoming a lot more frequent and the D.D.D. would be installing new units everywhere to ensure that no evil counterparts are making their way into the homes of others and killing people. You were able to tell if this made you feel safer or a lot more scared. What if someone made a mistake…?

Well, you didn’t have a chance to feel anything really, as the D.D.D. was extremely secretive about this kind of threat. After some time, it became normalized and it soon left your mind. The Doorman job seemed to be pretty effective as you had never seen any monsters before and were very much alive. It was rumored that the creatures would murder and eat any person they encountered if they succeeded in passing as humans. This is another reason you had your heart set on Francis. You felt as though he could protect you at a time like this. Maybe it was naive of you but after all, you were just a girl.

“Good Morning.”

Upon hearing the small knock at your door, you went to greet him. Francis stood tall, rather confused about you coming to get your bottled milk so quickly.

“Oh, good morning…” He replied flatly, gripping the strap of his milk bag. You thought that maybe he had a mutual crush on you and was too shy to act on it. So, you could take that step for him.

“How are you this morning? I hope that life is agreeing with you today.” You stepped outside of your apartment door with your glass of milk in hand. Francis shrugged. “I suppose it is.” He then yawned before saying “What’s wrong? Are you looking for another?”

You blinked. “Huh?” Your eyes then darted down to your hands. “O-Oh…sure.” You smiled attractively, causing him to break eye contact with you. He reached into his milk carrier and revealed and took out another. “You’re only allowed to get one every day but you can have mine.” He walked up to you and placed the bottle into your free hand.

“Th-Thanks!”

“Don’t mention it.”

After he disappeared around the corner, you were filled with joy! That interaction was such a good sign. He gave you his milk bottle. You had to make him something for dinner tonight as a gift!

Thunk!

You almost jumped at the sound of glass falling on the carpet at the far end of the hallway behind you. It looked like an empty milk bottle if you squinted hard enough. There was a shadow as well. It made you feel uneasy and quickly made you retreat into your home.

You wanted to try seeing if you could have more time with Francis. There was a job opening for the D.D.D. Doorman of your building and you instantly took it. Being able to meet with Francis when he wasn’t busy might have your conversations with him take a turn for the better. You really appreciated his selfless gesture. So, seeing him at least twice a day would make your life so much brighter. Francis was the complete package. Tall, handsome, quiet, and most of all, soft-spoken. You’d be a good wife to him.

On the first day of the job, you didn’t receive any proper training. You were given an informational video and a set of instructions that you scrambled to memorize as a long line of your neighbors awaited their inspection outside. The job was easy at first and you did it well. It was a chore but those are easy. You let in the right people and you called the D.D.D. when you found a doppelganger like you were instructed to. Unfortunately, at the end of the day, Francis didn’t pay you any mind. You gave him a soft smile through the glass before asking him about his day. 

“I hope work is treating you well.” You pitched your voice up to sound cuter. Your graceful hands moved swiftly as you sifted through the many layers of documents, trying to organize them before your next neighbor. “Yeah, I suppose.” He answered, blinking rather slowly. Your smile widened. “Any days off soon? I’d like to see you outside of your uniform.” You winked at him and he just shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Well, maybe, sometime after your hard work, you tell me a day you’d think you would be free?” 

You waited with anticipation for his response. He seemed rather confused and it was rather adorable. Then he said “I don’t really know. I think I’m busy but I’ll let you know if that changes.”

Your smile faltered just a little but you were good at faking emotions. “Oh, no worries.” You waved him off in a playful manner before pressing the button to allow him inside. Your shift ended and you thought that you should probably get to making that dinner for him as a ‘thank you’ for the free milk. As you began to clean up, the pressure of your job began to set in. This wasn’t something that you could just quit if Francis were to reject you. Ignoring all the unexplainable noises, the dark figures, and the constant feeling of being watched, it would be very awkward seeing him every day after that.

It was a new day. Francis came to check into the building and you let him go without chatting with him because you didn’t want to seem like a bother. But…then you saw him again.

“Francis?” You cutely tilted your head. The way he looked at you was much different than usual. The Francis you knew could barely make meaningful eye contact with you but right now he had no problem burning holes into your skull with his eyes. Not only that but he was visibly bigger as well. Taller and more masculine. His arms were big and veiny. This was NOT Francis Mosses.

“I-ID…?” You gave a nervous half-smile as you tried to hide your stutter. The humanoid creature gawked, a subtle sense of happiness washing over its face the longer it stayed there. “Don’t have it on me.” It replied plainly. You picked up the clipboard before exing out the box that was labeled “ID.”

“W-Well, you seem to look a lot like someone who’s already checked in. Please, give me a moment to confirm.” You flashed it a close-eyed smile. Upon seeing it, the fake Francis moved closer to the window, fogging it up with its mouth breathing.

You pressed the big red button to close the shutter before dialing the number to the D.D.D. 

The representative told you someone would be over right away to dispose of the doppelgänger. It only took about a minute before they’d arrive. Normally, the shutter would open on its own after being reset by the D.D.D. member but for some reason, it didn’t You figured that now would be a good time to open it to help the last neighbors but when you did, you were not met with the hazmat suit you were so familiar with. 

In front of you was the same fake Francis from before, now covered in some blood. His expression was one of annoyance and the veins in his arms were pulsating as if he were trying to contain some kind of anger.

“E-Excuse me, but you need to—!”

“Let me in.”

Your heart dropped. It talked! And it sounded just like Francis too. 

You shook your head. “N-No! I’m not letting a monster in.” You reached for the number to re-dial the number again.

“But I think you look so pretty today. You wore that just for me, huh? I’d love to t-tear it off of you.” The creature’s neck involuntarily cracked its neck, twisting it in a demonic way. You screamed at the sight, pressing the button once more to close the shutters so that you wouldn’t have to see it. As they went down, the doppelgänger tried to stop it by putting his hand under it. It got caught in the track, causing it to get stuck on the track and it was open halfway.

“Come on, Darling, I know you’re not about to call those bastards again. I don’t want to have to hurt anyone else.” The large man-creature crouched down. You could see his fanged canine teeth poking out of his mouth. You backed away from the window with the telephone in hand.

3312…

You listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before the receptionist answered.

“Hello?”

“P-Please send help!” You cried over the phone. Tears began to spill out of your eyes upon hearing the squeal of metal as the predator stretched and bent it to his will. The glass was the only thing left that could stop him from entering.

You saw how abnormally long his tongue was when it glided over his lips. “I just want to taste you…”

The receptionist dispatched another group of workers to help dispose of the doppelgänger. They arrived almost instantly. It was only then that the fake Francis moved away from the window. You sighed in relief, trying to calm yourself down from the events that transpired. You ran over to the tempered glass. The mental door looked like sheet paper.

You saw no trace of the Hazmat people but you also didn’t see the fake Francis anymore. You quickly gathered your things and rushed to leave. You opened the door to let yourself out. You planned to run to your room and lock the door but as soon as you had left the room, you bumped into a stiff, toned chest. The figure grabbed you by your neck and forced you to look at them. The gloved hand was covered in blood and it stained your skin and the collar of your dress.

“Where do you think you’re going, Princess?”

His grip around your throat was so tight that you weren’t able to form words. It was completely covered in blood and in its other hand was a knife dripping with blood as well. It kept the violence to one side of the room so that you weren’t able to see anything unless you completely left the screening room.

The light clank of the knife hitting the ground could be heard and its newly free hand grabbed your waist. The doppelgänger hugged you to its masculine chest. Its head rested itself on top of yours before it planted its nose in the crown of your head before inhaling your scent deeply. The blaring sound of the alarm continued to go off and it was deafening.

Your nose was overloaded with the scent of fresh blood. The pure shock didn’t let you resist his touch. His grip loosened and you dropped everything you had in your hands on the floor, staining it in with the red substance

“P-Please.”

You felt its large hand around the back of your neck and you feared that it would snap it and kill you any second. You held your breath as you felt it set the other hand on your waist as well, rubbing it gingerly.

It felt like the doppelgänger was sizing you up to see if you’d be a good enough meal for it.

“He-ey, beautiful. It's… okay…” 

The doppelgänger’s speech was somewhat disconnected but it was fluid for the most part. At first, it was clear he was a fake but the more he kept talking, the more it sounded like the real thing…like it was learning in real time.

Your heart rate accelerated when you felt its hand travel ever so slowly from your waist to the collar of your dress. The inhuman smile on its face widened and it suddenly ripped the cloth that covered your torso. You gasped, instinctively covering your now exposed bra.

You wiggled out of its grip and used the opportunity to run. You kicked off your pumps and ran barefoot to your apartment. All you could do was hope that more of the D.D.D. would come and solve the issue before anyone else could get hurt. The emergency alarm was still going off so the authorities should be there soon.

When you arrived at your door, you tried to scramble to look for your keys so that you could get inside but…

…you remembered that you dropped them along with the rest of your possessions.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching behind you. The large shadow engulfed your smaller form.

“Allow me.” The stranger said, calmly. Their large fist went through the door handle, shattering the lock and making it completely useless. You were too shocked to try running again. It found you.

The doppelganger shoved you against the door, swinging it open and causing you to fall forward inside of your home. You hit the floor with a soft but swift thud. “I see the way you look at him.” Its voice was laced with venom—anger but left more to be desired. It was playing with you awfully long for a creature that was trying to kill you.

“But you’d never look at me that way…”

The Fake Francis entered the apartment making sure to secure the door behind it so that you couldn’t run anymore. You cried and whimpered as it took its sweet time pushing your bookcase in front of the door so no one would intervene with what was supposed to happen next.

“I-I don’t know what you’re—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as it smashed its lips into yours. Its tongue was like that of a serpent, slipping its way into your mouth. You tried to push it away but any attempts just resulted in your lips connecting once more. It was too strong. 

You were terrified but it passed so much for the real Francis.

“Tell me you don’t like it ‘n I’ll stop.” It whispered into your mouth before it French kissed you once more. You kissed it back, unable to resist his appearance any longer. When it pulled away, a string of saliva connected between both of your mouths. It’s warm breath hits the surface of your face, eyes full of lust and horror.

It’s soft lips attached themselves to your neck, biting and sucking until your skin slowly began turning red. “Mmm.” It hummed deeply, traveling lower and lower until it reached the cavern between your breasts. “You’re sensitive here, aren’t you?” It placed kisses in the valley of your chest, waiting for a reply. You were unable to form words at this point. It wanted to ravage you and steal your innocence. It took your idleness as consent, continuing on with satisfying itself and by extension, satisfying you.

It took the delicate hand you had been using to drive a wedge between the both of you. You thought that at this point it was going to break your arm! You squeezed your eyes shut, ready to endure the pain but…it didn’t. You felt the heated bulge beneath it’s bloodied white trousers. It throbbed. 

That’s when it finally clicked for you. It wasn’t playing with you like you were food. It wasn’t trying to taste you and pick it’s teeth with your bones. It wanted to be with you. To breed you.

“I—ah~♡!” You bit down on your lip to contain the pretty moans that left your mouth. Your bra was removed, fully exposing your breasts. Its tongue touched the tip of your nipple and its mouth enveloped over your entire areola. It licked and sucked on the bud until it was nice and hard. The other hand was subtly slipped under your dress.

It took barely any strength at all to rip the fabric, showing how inappropriately wet you’d become from this activity. It craved the essence that was oozing from your tiny cunt.

At the feeling of the cold wind, you brought your legs together just to have them forced apart again. The creature made you feel so small and vulnerable. It used force when it felt necessary but overall, it was….soft. Licking, kissing, biting but no drawing blood, taste, loving.

It salivated at your legs, raising one and nuzzling the side of its face into the smooth skin. “So…gorgeous.” It pulled you forward. “When I saw you, I knew I wanted you.”

“Y-You did…?” You squeaked. It’s touch sent goosebumps from your limp to the rest of your body. “Two years I’ve been watching you. It was so damn annoying seeing you talk to that piece of meat.”

Piece of meat?

“I don’t know who you mean.” You shied away from the perfect creature. Could it mean…

“F-Francis?” You knitted your eyes together in confusion.

“Yes—HIM!” The doppelgänger dropped your leg and pulled you by your thighs to its crotch. “…I could never decide what skin would be the best to pursue you in. But then I’d see the way you look at him.” Pre-cum was beginning to show from its member inside. You could feel the wet fabric on the lips of your hot cunt. “So, I became him…but better.”

You heard the subtle unzipping sound of the pants and it took out its thick cock. It was larger than normal and didn't look like the standard male genitalia. You’d need to use both hands to hold it.

There was no denying this thing could perfectly replicate a human man. Before you could even react, the big “man” picked you up by your hair.

“Get on your knees.” He commanded and you felt obligated to obey him. You’ve never been in a situation where you were being held up by a man like this.

“I’m gonna split you in half with this cock.” He pushed its large tip against your cheek, straining it with warm cum. “Open your mouth.”

Your lips parted for a moment but you hesitated. There was no way that whole thing could fit into your mouth. Your eyes traveled up to his for guidance. He only stared down at you with hard, tired eyes. The corner of his mouth tugged upward into a smirk.

“I said…open your mouth.”

He spoke through his teeth as if it were a threat. You were reluctant but tried to ease it in. You kissed his tip, causing him to grunt and tighten his fist around your hair. “Open.” He growled, yanking your head back. His cock was so close to your face that you could truly take in its side. It was nearly the length of your skull. 

You opened your mouth out of fear and he shoved it inside. He was kind enough to let you get used to it in your throat by going soft and slow…or maybe he was just distracted by the imprint showing on your throat. 

You grabbed his hips to keep yourself from falling backward. Even a bit of force made you lose your balance. “Good girl.” He sighed, relaxing into you, pushing the limits by pushing it deeper. Your choking and gagging only made him feel pleasure.

“You struggling with my dick in your mouth is so hot.” You heard him mutter under his breath. Your eyes began to water from the choking, causing tears to carry mascara down your cheeks.

“Keep sucking.” He fucked into your throat and gentle too. “I’m close.”

 Both of his hands found themselves on the back of your head. He sped up his pace until a loud groan emitted from his chest and a mysterious liquid found its way down your throat.

The doppelgänger let go of your hair. You fell back on your bottom and he crouched down. “Hey.” He called, grabbed both sides of your face with one hand. He squeezed your cheeks together. “Swallow.”

You swallowed what was left and once he knew it was in your belly, his lips crashed into yours. His tongue wormed its way into your mouth and explored every cavern.

You felt yourself get lifted again but this time to your feet. He walked you over to your dining table and shoved you into it. “Bend over.”

You didn’t really get a choice. When you tried to stand, he forced you down to the table with his hand on the back of your head. 

You expected him to say something, but he stayed silent. You felt him explore your backside from your hips to your exposed ass. The wind was so cold but his hands were so warm.

He chuckled darkly, spreading your ass cheeks and sticking his shaft in between. His dick was so much bigger than you that you would definitely have a belly bulge because of it. He wanted to experience it for himself.

You waited with silent anticipation for him what he would do next. You weren’t too sexually active anymore because you wanted to reserve that for the real Francis, if you ever got the chance with him, so you were really nervous about having something so big inside.

“Uah!” You squeaked, feeling a wet, warm muscle enter the deepest part of your cunt. It was his tongue!

You whipped your head around to see that his face was buried in you from behind. “Mmm.” You heard him hum vibrations into you. He consumed all of your juices as they came out. It must’ve tasted so good coming from a pretty human like you.

With every moan and whimper that left your mouth, it made his dick grow harder and harder. He didn’t stop until you had creamed all over his tongue. So much came out that it got all over his face too.

“I-Is that it? Is that what you want…?” You asked, but you were only ignored.

“Pick a hole.”

“Wh-wha—“

“Pick a hole, or I will.”

Pick…a hole…?

His large thumb massaged your asshole while his knuckles, now sleek with your cream, was stimulating your pussy.

“Um…I—“ 

“Both it is!”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?!”

You felt his thumb sink deep into your ass while he struggled to get his large tip into your pussy. “Damn you’re fucking tight.” He growled through his teeth. His free hand grabbed your ass, fingers sinking in so deep they’d leave marks. 

“W-Wait, you have to go slow!” You cried, face heating up from being touched in such filthy ways. “I am.” He grumbled, pushing the limits of your vagina by forcing himself inside. Despite going at the pace of a snail, the pain of trying to fit himself inside didn’t decrease at all. You helplessly clawed at the table beneath you. It didn’t matter how wet you were. He was too big.

It took a moment but he was able to get it. It slipped in with much ease on his end but the difference inside made you gasp so hard you needed to cover your mouth.

The doppelgänger began thrusting without warning, quickly overstimulating you. You could feel him in your stomach too. You reach back to push him off of you but he just grabbed your arm and kept it. There wasn’t much you could do to get someone this big off of you. You would only take it.

“P-Please…I can’t take it!” You gapped out, drool escaped your mouth as you tried to form words. He was fucking you so hard you couldn’t even think. All that could be heard around the room was the lewd slapping of his filled balls against the bottom of your pussy. 

“Beg for it then. Say you love me.” His breath hitched. “Say you want me and I’ll let you go.”

“I—“ Slap! 

You tried to speak. “I wa—“ Slap!

It seemed that when you tried to comply with him, he’d remove the hand playing with your asshole to leave a rough, skin-reddening slap on your ass. Your struggling amused him. He couldn’t help but smile.

The doppelgänger has been stalking you for so long. It was hard getting into your apartment normally because of the last doorman but he couldn’t resist you once you were sitting at that desk.

“What’s wrong?” He teased, his deep voice going soft. “My dick isn’t in your mouth anymore…so what’s the issue?” He chuckled. “Beg.”

“I want you!” You blurted out.

“You…want me? Say there’s no one else. Say you love me!” It was like music to his ears, really. It was helping him reach his climax.

“I…I love you—“

“FUCK!”

Your belly bulge quickly became bigger as his cum painted your walls and womb. Even with his dick growing more flaccid, he continued to fuck his cum into you so that you both knew who you belonged to now. Tears spilled out of your eyes as you squirted onto his cock, mixing your juices together.

“I love you too, Princess. More than you could ever imagine—“ Before he could finish, his ears perked up almost like an animal. His attention turned towards your door that he had destroyed before. “Here they come.” He muttered, putting his member back into his pants.

You weakly lifted yourself from the table. Your hand placed itself tight below your navel. It was so sore now. “Who’s coming…? What are you talking about…?”

The doppelgänger ignored you, its horns flesh and bones began contorting and changing color. Its physique turned from that of a huge masculine man to the familiar form of that of a D.D.D. member. Yellow suit and all. 

It ran to the door, opening it, and sticking its head out. “I found her, she's in here!” Its voice changed to a generic man as well. Not at all like the deep gruff from before.

Your legs felt like jelly, you fell to the ground as soon as you were able to stand. They were numb from the pleasure, leaving you unable to walk.

What happened next went by as a blur. The D.D.D. Reinforcement Team took you to a hospital where you were taken care of and given rape kit. You were unable to refuse it once the forensics team found semen at the scene. In order to maintain faith in the D.D.D., your assault was largely covered up but only those who were in the apartment that day knew about it.

After the commotion of filing our paperwork and giving information, you were sent home. You didn’t sustain any life threatening injuries but you were asked to come in periodically to see how your body would react to having the semen of a doppelgänger inside of you…so now you were a bit of a test subject to them. You quit the job after that but you were quickly replaced by a new guy. 

You hadn’t seen the doppelgänger the entire time. Or at least, you thought you didn’t. You wanted to process the situation but you were more confused as to why it craved so much validation from you. It wanted you to say you loved it. It wanted you to say that you wanted it. It said that it’s been waiting two years to be this close to you. It looked like Francis.

You had just arrived back home. Carpenters quickly replaced your door before you got home and you decided to continue life as usual by making dinner for yourself. Your heart still aches from the fear you felt when you thought you were going to die. And so did your vagina. It didn’t bleed, thank god, but it was sore to the touch from how big that monster was.

“Man, I thought you’d never come back.”

You were alone in your kitchen when a voice emitted from behind you. The familiarity in the voice made your heart drop. You quickly turned around to see the doppelgänger from before, masquerading as Francis again.

“What are you doing here? What do you—“

“Shh, princess.” He strided through your small kitchen, stepping so close to you that you were against the counter with nowhere else to go. You placed your hands on his chest, giving you the illusion that you could push him away. He grabbed your arm by the wrist before kissing the inside of your palm. He kissed your fingers and then the back of your hand before making you cup his cheek, which he nuzzled into lovingly.

You wanted to rip your hand away but his grip was so strong. You blushed. Was it wrong to admit that he…it, was attractive? 

“Why didn’t you kill me and eat me? Why did you do that to me?” You questioned meekly. His eyes were closed, enjoying your warm touch with a smile before they opened. His eyes were like hunter's eyes. “Because I love you.” He replied flatly. 

“I don’t know what that means…” 

You opened your mouth to speak again but you were cut off by a knock at your door. 

“I’ll get it.” The doppelgänger quickly said and in a mere second, it shapeshifted to turn into…you. It was able to mimic you in all your glory, including the hickeys, bites and bruises from your attack.

“No!” You blurted out. “Don’t do that.”

The doppelgänger allowed you to move away from it and your arm fell to your side. You went to get the door but you made sure to check who it was before opening.

It was Francis!

“It’s him!” You hurried to your bedroom to find your cardigan to cover your tattered clothes before answering the door.

“Francis? What brings you here?” You forced a smile but your eyes looked just as tired as his. You couldn’t hide anything from him.

“I heard what happened. ‘m so glad you’re okay.” Francis sighed, quickly invading your personal space. He hugged you to his chest. You blinked “F-Francis…?”

“I felt all torn up when I thought you died but when I heard that you were just fine, I just had to come see you myself.” Your stomach burned with delight. Francis was worried about you?

Francis let go of you and you pulled away. His face was red like he was blushing and you couldn’t help but blush too. Your lips curled into a smile. “W-Well, I’m a lot tougher than I look.”

He wanted to smile back but he couldn’t. He saw the marks on your skin. You were hurt. “I know you are.” He masked his sadness with a weak smile. He rested his hand on your head and ruffled it a bit.

It would probably be inappropriate for him to admit that he’s actually had feelings for you all this time, so he’d save it for another day. Hearing the news about the doppelgänger through gossip during his job of going door to door made him realize he could lose you at any moment. But today, he settled with placing a kiss at the crown of your head. “Stay safe. I’ll check on you again later.”

For a moment, everything in your life went still. Even after he had walked away and left you standing there, it didn’t feel real. This more or less confirmed he had a crush on you as well. No man just does that and doesn’t see you as more than just a neighbor.

Your heart fluttered as you came back to reality. You slipped back inside of your home. You need to get cleaned up! You had to bathe and find something suitable just in case Francis wanted to come inside upon your next meeting.

But then….

“You look awfully happy.”

The doppelgänger was still here. You gulped, seeing his much bigger form. He grabbed the sides of your face with his hand again. He didn’t bother crouching because of your size difference, leaving you standing on the tips of your toes.

You were too shocked to try defending yourself, so he continued. “I saw everything so don’t even try to lie. That bastard is so lucky that I have to lay low until the D.D.D. gets their claws out of you or else I would’ve…”

“Don’t hurt him!” You tried to beat and punch his arm to get him off but he didn’t budge. “Why not?!”

“Because…I’ll be sad. And you don’t want me to be sad, do you?” Your voice was unlabeled and lacked confidence. It was a Hail Mary but you’d do anything to prevent Francis from getting hurt.

“Shit.” The doppelgänger let go of you, setting you back on your feet. It seemed…conflicted. He paced around your living room briefly. It had a soft spot for you but you could tell it has trouble processing emotions like a person. It was just imitating a person to get what it wanted.

“You don’t want him. You just wanna marry a guy. I’ll marry you.” 

You shook your head. “No. Y-You can’t. You’re not him.”

“Of course I am.” His expression became mischievous. A smirk settled on his handsome face. “You can even call me Francis in bed if it fancies you.” 

You felt your stomach do a flip!

“No! I’m not calling you that. Even though you look just like him…wh-what do I call you anyway…?” You retreated inward, hugging yourself and looking quite nervous as if the situation was beginning to dawn on you. You were currently desired by one of the most dangerous beings in the world.

“Francis.”

“Stop! I’m never using that name for you.” You got angry enough to shove him but he didn’t move an inch. You quickly realized that you shouldn’t push too hard or else it might change its mind and kill you. 

“Mmm….” You pursed your lips, avoiding eye contact with the monster. “Wh-What about Franz? Is that good enough for you…?”

Franz, huh?

“Perfect.”

Tagged Folks: @z3r0art @chilifrylizard2

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

that old cliché.

you swore you’d never give in to the maid of honour and best man cliche. and then you met evan buckley.

evan buckley x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol. buck’s a filthy flirt.

word count - 6k

authors note - and so she returns!! thank you all so much for your loveliness on my post about my break - I appreciate it more than you know. this one was so much fun to write. i’ve not written any longer stuff for buck, but he’s a character I feel that I have a really good understanding of - I actually think we’re very alike - so this came so easy. hope you love it as much as I do. <3

masterlist. inbox.

Silvery melodies of laughter clink off the rim of the champagne flute you hold in your freshly manicured hand. As the gentle breeze whips through the material of your dress, you look around you, realising you’ve never seen so many people so happy at once.

The backyard of the Italian villa is packed, dozens of guests milling around - dancing, drinking, chatting and catching up. Family, friends, colleagues; people from every phase of the bride and grooms life, all celebrating together in one place.

A rocks glass is placed down onto the table in front of you with a thud. Looking up, you’re met with the sight of the best man towering over you expectantly with a drink in his hand.

“Evan.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

You scoff, staring up at him through your lashes.

“What’s this?”

“A drink.”

“Yeah. But why?”

“It’s whiskey. I watched you grimace every time you had to drink the champagne, so I thought you’d want something different.”

You swirl the glass, listening to the tinkle of the ice against the sides.

“You were watching me, huh?”

“Of course I was. Can’t take my eyes off you in that dress.”

“Shut up,” you chide, fighting to keep the grin off your face. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“The whole best man and maid of honour thing. It’s just too cliched.”

He laughs all hearty and genuine, and you poignantly ignore the way the butterflies start fluttering in your stomach.

“Then why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, shaking your head at him.

“Yeah, right. In your dreams, Evan.”

“Oh, you will be,” he winks, knocking his glass against yours in a quick cheers before walking off to the find the groom.

You watch him go, not completely oblivious to the way his suit fits him just right. Determined to stand your ground, you inhale a deep breath before taking a sip of your drink. The drink that definitely isn’t exactly what you needed. The drink that he’d practically read your mind to figure out. Effortlessly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s been like this all day.

You met Evan Buckley for the first time last night, at the rehearsal dinner. The bride, your best friend in the world, kept telling you that you’d love the best man.

“He’s from California,” she’d said. “He’s Danny’s friend from when they were kids. He’s a firefighter, babe. He’s hot.”

You’d laughed it off, zipping up the back of her dress while she watched you in the mirror.

“Oh, come on. That’s so cliched. The whole maid of honour and best man thing is so old, Lucy.”

“You’re single, he’s single,” she’d protested. “It’d do you some good to get laid, relieve some stress. And people let their guards down at weddings. Now’s your chance.”

“If I wanted to get laid, I’d get laid,” you scoffed.

“All I’m saying is that Buck is completely your type. He’s gorgeous, he’s funny, he’s sweet. And you’re gonna have to spend a fair bit of time together tonight and tomorrow, so… just keep an open mind.”

“Fine,” you soothed, rolling your eyes. “Mind wide open. Alright?”

“You’re gonna love him.”

“You said that already.”

“Because I really believe it. You’re gonna love him.”

And the problem is… she was kind of right.

No, you don’t love him. You’ve known him for 48 hours. But… there’s something.

Lucy wasn’t lying. He is gorgeous, and funny, and sweet. And hot. So hot. He showed up to the rehearsal dinner in dress pants and a linen shirt, all sun kissed and muscled and tanned and stunning.

The two of you were seated next to each other, planned so carefully by the bride and groom. One minute you were making cautious introductions, shaking hands and smiling gently. The next minute you were crying with laughter, clutching at his bicep as he grabs your thigh, legs intertwined and chairs pulled together.

Lucy and Danny nudge each other occasionally, watching the both of you get along like two old friends that have known each other forever. A look passes between them that says I told you so clear as day.

But you’re stubborn. Too stubborn, some may say. You know you’ll never hear the end of it from your friends if you give into this very alluring temptation, and perhaps your pride means a bit more to you than it should. So you resist, you refuse to give in. Even if you really want to.

And that was just last night. Today has been even worse.

By worse, you mean the connection between you and Evan has grown even stronger. You walked down the aisle with him, arm linked with his, both dressed up to the nines. The maid of honour and the best man, a perfect picture.

You haven’t been able to keep your hands off each other all day. Little touches - his fingers on the small of your back, your grip on his bicep, shoulders brushing and thighs pressed together. Nothing crazy, but nothing meaningless, either. There’s an undeniable electricity buzzing between you, hot and alive.

You’re not sure how much longer you can deny it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’re dancing with Lucy and her little nieces when you hear yelling and commotion coming from the other side of the dance floor. Looking over, you see Danny, Evan and other groomsmen flailing around and fussing.

“What happened?” Lucy’s yelling, making her way over with you in tow.

“Just a drink spillage, Luce! But it’s red wine, and now Buck’s shirt is pink.”

You look at the man in question and can’t help but laugh. His crisp white dress shirt is now a pretty shade of pink across the front, his cheeks a rosy colour to match.

“Stop laughing,” he chides, but he’s grinning at you as he says it. “I need to go and change. I have a spare shirt in my suitcase upstairs.”

He starts to leave, but soon turns around and calls your name.

“I don’t have a key for that big door at the end of the hallway to get to our rooms. Do you?”

“Yeah, it’s in my purse. You want it?”

“Just come with me. It’ll be easier.”

Before you can argue, he’s taken off, big strides across the garden. You have to practically run in your heels to keep up with him, shaking your head in frustration.

“I could have just given you this,” you say when you reach the door, unlocking it for him.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

The smirk he gives you is so cheeky, it’s a wonder you don’t smack it off his face. Cocky bastard.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, walking with purpose to his room.

“Come in with me? It’ll only take a minute, then we can walk back together.”

You know you should say no, tell him that you’ll meet him downstairs. But you don’t. Instead, you say,

“Fine. But hurry up. I don’t wanna miss the party.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mock salutes, unlocking the door to his room that’s conveniently directly across from yours.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, trying to avoid watching him undress. He shrugs off his now pink shirt, taking it with him into the bathroom.

You’re surprised at how tidy everything is. Not that you think Evan would be particularly messy, but he doesn’t strike you as a neat and clean type. His suitcase is unpacked into the closet, bed made, nothing on the floor. It only makes you like him more.

“Can you grab my other shirt from the closet please, gorgeous? The one I wore last night for the rehearsal dinner.”

You swing the two doors open and rifle around, failing to see the linen button up that he’s looking for. Suddenly, you feel a warmth behind you, Buck’s solid form caging you in. He reaches around you, arm brushing yours as he finds what he needs.

“Found it,” he murmurs into your ear, all low and honeyed.

Against your better judgment, you turn around, finding yourself face to face with him. He towers over you, watching your reactions carefully. Your hands reach out and rest on his bare chest, steadying yourself before you either fall over or pass out.

Buck gently traces your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes completely locked on yours. You have to resist every urge to either bite it or suck it into your mouth, reminding yourself that now isn’t the time. The noise from the garden floats up and through the window that’s cracked open slightly, tethering you to the reality that is slowly fading away the longer you hold Evan’s gaze.

He leans in, and to your surprise, doesn’t kiss you immediately. Pressing his forehead to yours, he inhales deeply, as if committing the moment to memory. His thumbs are now tracing gentle circles on your jaw, soft and callous at the same time. You inhale slowly, processing the scent of his cologne mixed with the evening breeze. If you could bottle it up, you think, you’d be a millionaire. This would cure everything.

Buck finally closes down the gap between you, inching towards your lips softly. You shut your eyes, waiting for him to finally kiss you - when there’s deafening knocking on the door. The two of you jump apart, hearts pounding and nerves on a live wire.

Evan strides over to the source of the noise, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself as he goes. You perch on the edge of the bed, smoothing down your dress and attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible.

“Buck? Dude, it’s Jake. Hurry up, yeah? The guys wanna do our dance routine before everyone gets too drunk to remember it.”

He doesn’t bother opening the door, just yells back through the wood.

“Yeah, sure - I’ll be down in a minute!”

You hear Jake’s footsteps retreat, both of you exhaling the breaths you didn’t know you’d been holding. Buck looks at you, worried that the moment’s been ruined, to find you stifling a laugh behind your hand.

“There’s a dance routine?”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, fighting to keep the grin off his face. “We created it years ago. The guys won’t let it die.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see this.”

You’re cackling, reclining onto the duvet as you laugh.

“Stop,” he groans, jumping over to flop onto his back on the bed next to you. “I did a lot of regrettable things in college… and that routine is definitely the worst of it.”

“I hope you know that you’re never going to live this down, Buckley. I’ll be reminding you of this forever.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, propping himself up on his elbow so he can look at you. “You really like me, huh?”

“What the hell gave you that impression?”

“You said forever. What’s next, honey? You gonna get down on one knee later?”

You’re suddenly aware of the warmth of the whiskey flowing through your veins, giving you a liquid confidence that stuns both you and the man lying next to you.

“Two knees, maybe. But not one.”

His eyes go wide as you smirk, pulling yourself off the bed and making your way over to the door. Buck watches you carefully, gaze steady and firm.

“You coming? I’m more than ready to see those moves of yours.”

He stands up, slipping on his shoes and shrugging the clean shirt onto his broad shoulders. You grab your purse, leaning against the doorframe as you wait.

Evan reaches past you for the door handle, nose purposely brushing yours as he does it.

“I’ll hold you to what you said before,” he murmurs, moving a strand of hair away from your face softly. “Don’t think I won’t.”

You look up at him with big doe eyes, like butter wouldn’t melt.

“Sure, Evan,” you reply lowly. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Breaking away from him, you swing the door open, strutting down the hallway without looking back. Your confidence has sky rocketed, knowing that he wants this just as badly as you do. You walk back out to the garden and take your earlier seat, ready for the show you’ve been promised.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The dance routine is spectacular.

It’s cheesy and hilarious and very early 2000s inspired - it’s almost like watching a music video from a boy band you loved when you were a teenager. It should embarrass you, turn you off majorly, but… it doesn’t. It only does the opposite.

Everything Buck does makes you like him more.

You spend the rest of the evening dancing, laughing, and floating on cloud nine. In a garden in Italy, surrounded by your best friends - you can’t think of anywhere else you’d rather be.

As the evening dwindles to an end, everyone slowly begins making their way back to their rooms within the villa. You sit down, unbuckling your heels to finally give your feet a rest. It almost feels like deja vu when a rocks glass is placed down in front of you on the table.

“Hi, Evan.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

“What’s this?”

“A drink.”

“Yes, but why?”

He pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down, looking at you intently.

“Thought we could have a nightcap before we go upstairs.”

You look around to find that mostly everyone has decided to call it a day. You can see Lucy and Danny walking off hand in hand, going for a stroll around the grounds before they let the wedding officially be over. It just leaves you and Buck, sat in your original places.

“Is this Baileys?”

“Yes ma’am. Do you like it? I figured you probably wouldn’t want another whiskey, seeing as you’ve had so many.”

You scoff, trying to fight the grin that threatens to take over your face.

“I’ve had, like, four, thank you very much.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, making you chuckle as you shake your head.

“Cheers, Evan,” you toast, clinking your glass against his matching one. “We did it. A wedding without a hitch. Mostly.”

“My shirt will never be white again, but besides that, we did a pretty good job.”

“We make a good team.”

He looks slightly taken aback by your honesty, trying to hide his smirk.

“Yes, we do. A super hot, super funny team.”

“A super hot, super funny team.”

You both laugh, heads thrown back with no cares in the world. Buck shuffles his chair forward so his legs are slotted on either side of you, warm skin radiating into yours. The moonlight is glinting off of his cheekbones, illuminating the light streaks in his hair. You’re a little tipsy and much too tired to fully fight your feelings anymore.

He’s beautiful, and you’re sick of denying it.

The two of you finish off your drinks, sat in a comfortable silence beneath the starry night sky. His hand has found its way onto your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle patterns into your bare skin. You’re sneaking glances at him when he looks away, admiring the way he’s glowing, buzzed off of the alcohol and the excitement of the day. He’s doing the same with you, soft smile etched onto his face as he watches you gaze up at the stars above your heads.

A yawn escapes you, making both of you chuckle.

“I’ll walk you to your room?”

“Well, you better. I’m the only one of us with a key for that big door.”

He laughs even harder, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I forgot about that. If you weren’t here, I’d have slept on the floor in the hallway or something.”

“Probably wouldn’t be the first time,” you mutter, standing up and tucking your chair under the table.

“Sorry, what was that? Say it again? Hmm? Hmm?” he wraps his arms around your middle, spinning you so your feet are no longer on the floor.

“Okay, okay! Put me down before I throw up,” you shriek, giggling like a teenager.

He places you back down, hands on your hips to steady you. You look up at him, keeping your eyes fixed on his to steady yourself from the dizziness. When you feel ready to go, you clear your throat, willing yourself to walk away before you kiss him stupid.

“We should go to bed,” you whisper, afraid to ruin the moment.

“Yeah?”

“Separate beds,” you tell him sternly, chuckling when he cackles.

“Yes ma’am.”

Buck walks you back to your room in a gentlemanly fashion, looping your arm through his to keep you both upright. When you reach your door, your fingers linger on the handle, as if you’re not quite ready to go inside just yet.

Reaching out gently, he moves a strand of hair from your face, fingertips brushing your cheekbone as he does it. You sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut at the sweet contact.

“Goodnight, gorgeous,” he murmurs lowly. “Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight.”

He takes a step back towards his door when you speak again.

“Evan?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Everything, today. You’ve been a damn good best man.”

“Well, thank you. For being the best maid of honour.”

You nod, smiling like an idiot as you unlock your door and shut it behind you. You take a deep breath when you’re finally inside, throwing down your heels onto the floor and your purse onto the side table. Reaching behind you, your fingers tug at the zipper on your dress, attempting to pull it down.

It’s only now you realise your dilemma. The zipper is on an awkward place on your back, right where you can’t get to. You think quickly back to this morning - one of the bridesmaids doing the dress up for you, pulling the material taut as she fastened it. You’re not going to be able to get this off yourself.

Finding the purse that you discarded minutes earlier, you aim to find a hair clip. If you can loop a bobby pin into the zipper, you think, you might be able to pull it yourself. You root around in it for a second, before pulling out two phones.

Well, fuck.

You’d completely forgotten that Evan had given it to you earlier in the evening, worried that it was going to get broken if it stayed in his back pocket. You’d tucked it away and not thought about it again.

Until now.

Now, you’re realising that you’re going to have to go and give it back. He probably hasn’t remembered that you have it, otherwise you’re sure he’d be knocking on the door or yelling across the hallway.

You stand in the middle of your room, with two phones and a stuck zipper, wondering if the universe thinks this is funny.

You’re certainly not laughing.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“Evan?”

He swings the door open, facing you in his suit trousers with no shirt on.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. I, uh, I have your phone.”

Holding it out to him, his fingertips brush yours as he takes it from you, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Oh, shit. I forgot about this. Thanks, pretty.”

“Of course.”

You stand and look at each other for a second, so much left unsaid.

“Can I ask you for a favour?”

“Anything.”

His instantly willingness has butterflies fluttering in your stomach, flitting and lightweight and undeniable.

“Can you help me get my dress off?”

When he smirks and goes to speak, you cut him off quickly.

“The zipper is stuck, Evan. Alice zipped me up this morning and I can’t undo it by myself.”

“This is a very long winded way of asking me to get you naked, gorgeous.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“If that’s what I wanted, I would just ask you, Buckley.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“Can you help me or not?”

He’s laughing, now, head thrown back with it. You hate the way it makes your heart sing.

“You coming in? Or you want me to undress you in the hallway?”

“You’re not undressing- fuck, you’re annoying.”

He’s still chuckling when he ushers you inside, shutting the door firmly behind you both.

“How do you wanna do this? Lights on, lights off? Curtains open or shut? Music? Candles?”

“Undo the damn zipper before I smack you.”

His laughter is rumbling through his chest, contagious in its nature. You want to be angry at him, but you just can’t seem to find it in you.

“Turn around, gorgeous.”

You spin to face the door, taking a deep breath as you anticipate his touch. You feel his warmth behind you, fingertips dancing over the skin of your shoulders before they reach your zipper. You can’t see him, but you can envisage the sight - his broad chest, thick neck, that beautiful sun kissed glow he’s developed over the past few days. Your lungs heave as the room suddenly feels like it’s a thousand degrees.

Buck slides the zipper down your back slowly, with intent and clarity. When it reaches your coccyx, he stops, resting his other hand on your hip to keep you steady.

You know you should step away, maybe throw him a quick thanks as you leave. But you do believe in fate, whether you like to admit it or not - and this entire night has felt like it’s been written in the stars.

Who are you to deny what the universe is so clearly gifting you?

You let your arms relax, sighing as the dress falls off of you and down to the floor. You step out of it, finally turning around to face Buck wearing nothing but your lacy white underwear. Surprisingly, there’s not an ounce of self consciousness in your body. The only thing you feel is desire.

For the first time since you’ve met him, Evan is completely speechless. His eyes rove over you, drinking in the sight in front of him, and he has to remind himself to breathe.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispers in awe, fingers itching to reach out and touch you. “The minute I first saw you, I couldn’t believe you were real.”

“Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“Touch me, please.”

He grins, surging forward to cup your cheek with one hand while the other finds its home on your waist.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

“Finally.”

Buck leans in and presses his lips to yours surprisingly gently, testing the waters. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him as close as possible. He gets the message, reeling you in and deepening the kiss until you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

You’re being walked backwards and into the wall, pushed up against it for leverage. You hike a leg up over Bucks hip, groaning when the two of you grind forwards at the same time. His hands are everywhere - your face, tits, ass, waist - anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s not quite sure where he wants them, as if he’s worried he’ll leave somewhere untouched.

“You’re all I’ve thought about for two days,” he’s muttering into your neck as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your skin. “Driving me crazy.”

“I got myself off last night,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut when he sucks at the spot under your ear. “Thinking about you.”

“Fuck,” he moans, sinking down to his knees in front of you. “Tell me more. Please.”

It’s almost biblical, the sight of him. On his knees, practically begging, looking up at you like you’re his saviour. You’re dizzy with the power, blood rushing straight to your head.

Buck presses kisses into your leg, starting at your calves and moving up. When he gets to your inner thigh, he gazes up at you, pleading with his eyes for you to continue.

“Tell me more or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them down and off.

“Okay, okay,” you pant, dropping your head back against the wall. “I, I- I couldn’t stop thinking about your arms in that shirt. The, the, the-”

You’re stuttering as he licks a stripe up your core, diving in with no hesitation. His fingers are gripping your thighs so hard you know it’ll bruise, and you can’t wait to feel the imprints in the morning.

“The?”

He’s pulled away to look at you with his brow quirked, dirty smirk etched across his face.

“Keep going, gorgeous. You haven’t even got to the good part. Neither of us have.”

You scoff at him in defiance, but slide your fingers into his hair to tug him back to where you want him.

“You looked so strong,” you continue, sighing when his tongue finds your core again. “Kept thinking about how easily you could throw me around. Pick me up, sit me on your face…”

Buck groans, all deep and rumbled, and the vibrations have your legs going weak. He doubles down on his efforts, slipping his tongue inside as his nose nudges your clit. He’s a fast learner, taking mental note of the spots and pressures that make your knees buckle.

“Keep going,” he mumbles into your core.

“You keep going,” you retort, pulling at his hair.

He chuckles but obliges your request, sucking your clit into his mouth with purpose. You’re shaking, holding onto him for dear life as you reach your climax. The moan you let out is borderline pornographic, and it has Buck palming himself over his suit trousers with a groan.

“Fuck, Evan,” you pant, chest heaving as you slump into the wall. “You need to grab me before I collapse. My legs are jelly.”

Laughing as he does it, he stands up and wraps his arms around your middle, holding you against him as tightly as he can.

“You okay?” he asks, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“Better than ever.”

He rests his lips on your forehead, both of you breathing each other in for a moment.

“Can’t believe you were right across the hallway from me, trying to be quiet while you were getting yourself off,” he murmurs, fingers running up and down your back. “You should have come over here. I would have helped you.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you tease, cupping his face in your hands. “I was still acting like I didn’t wanna rip your clothes off back then.”

“Knew you’d crack eventually,” he winks, grinning when you laugh.

You pull him into you for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, clearly telling him exactly what you want.

“You gonna fuck me, Evan? Or are we just gonna stand here all night?”

He shakes his head with a smirk before throwing you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce back off. As he starts to crawl over to you, you stop him with a foot on his chest.

“Nuh uh. You’re wearing too many clothes. Strip, Buckley.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He’s standing up immediately, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off in one fell swoop. His boxers are next, leaving him stood bare and beautiful in front of you.

“Fuck. You’re not real,” you breathe out, eyes dancing over him.

“Oh I am so real,” he’s reassuring, situating himself on top of you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down so you can grind your hips into his.

“I’ve been waiting two days for this,” you murmur into his lips. “Make it worth my while, please.”

“Careful what you wish for,” he teases, kissing you again with such a force that you’re dizzy.

Buck sucks a bruise into your collarbone, licking a stripe up your sternum and tasting the salt that sits on your skin. Your patience is wearing thinner and thinner, anticipation bubbling up in your veins.

“How’d you want it?” he whispers into your ear.

“Just- deep. Wanna feel you for the rest of the weekend.”

He groans, a breathless chuckle leaving his lips.

“Anything you want, gorgeous. I’ll give you anything you want. Anything in the world.”

His lust drunk rambling makes you giggle, wiggling your hips into his to hopefully hurry him up. You tug at his hair, pulling his face so it’s level with yours.

“Now, Evan. Can’t wait any longer. Please.”

“Fuck. You’re so pretty when you beg.”

He lines himself up, pressing his forehead to yours as the two of you connect. He’s big and he’s stretching you out just right and you think you might have died and gone to heaven. You both groan, panting into each others mouths.

“Fuck, baby. It’s like you were made for me.”

The baby sends warmth running through both your core and your heart, all the signals setting your nervous system on fire.

“Please,” you whimper, kissing him with desperation as you tangle your fingers in his curls and pull. “Please, Evan.”

“I’ve got you,” he’s mumbling, pulling his hips back and sliding them forwards with clear intent.

Reaching up beside your head, Buck pulls a pillow down and situates it under your hips, putting you where he wants you.

“Want you to feel me as deep as possible,” he murmurs, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. “Won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You can only moan at the promise, praying he delivers. There’s a shiny sheen of sweat covering his sun kissed skin, making him glow in the moonlight like some sort of angel. Sent just for you.

Buck sets a steady rhythm, not too fast but just fast enough. He clearly knows what he’s doing, and you ignore the pang of jealousy in your chest at the idea of him with another woman, even in the past.

Now that you’ve had a taste of this, you don’t want to let it go.

He’s pressing kisses onto whatever skin he can reach - your neck, your collarbone, underneath your ear. His hips never cease, determined to get you both to where you need to be. When he hitches one of your legs over his waist, you can’t help but drop your head back, eyes fluttering shut at the new angle.

He tilts his hips upwards, and hits a spot that has you keening. Speech has left you, and all you can do now is take it like you were made for it.

“Right there? Yeah? That’s it, isn’t it?”

You nod frantically, sucking in a shuddering breath like you’ve been under water. Your legs have started to shake, and Buck’s grinning when he thinks about how far he can push you before you’re at your limit.

“Come on, pretty girl. Give it to me.”

You’re so close you can taste it, desperate to find this release that’s been building for the last forty eight hours. When Buck moves his hand from your hip to your throat and squeezes just slightly, you snap.

You’re coming with a breathless moan, back arching into him to plaster your fronts together.

“Shit, you look so beautiful when you come. Jesus.”

You manage a soft smile, looking up at him to see those bright eyes staring into yours. He looks entranced, as if he’s staring at a piece in an art gallery. You swipe his hair back from his sweaty forehead, teasing your thumb across his bottom lip. When he sucks it into his mouth, your jaw drops open, mind foggy with arousal.

“Think you can give me another one? Let me see you come all pretty again?” he asks around your digit, tongue laving over your skin.

“Mhmm,” you’re agreeing before you can even process it, eager to please.

“That’s my girl.”

He moves your fingers from his mouth back into his hair as his find your throat once more, applying a little pressure. His hips pick up their pace, faster and harder than before. He’s fucking you into the mattress, strong arms keeping you from sliding off the bed.

He looks breathtaking, on top of you like this. He’s so broad, towering over you like he’ll shield you from the entire world if he has to. It feels like it’s just the two of you in the whole universe, unbothered by anything or anyone else.

“Buck- I… I-”

“I know, baby. Can feel it. Atta girl.”

You pull him down to kiss you as you reach your third climax of the night, arms wrapping around his neck so every inch of you is pressed together.

“There we go, good girl. That’s it, yeah. It’s yours, baby. It’s all yours.”

Buck finally finds his release, triggered by yours. His head drops into your neck, his frantic breath tickling your skin. You murmur sweet nothings into his ear, talking him through it as he shudders and shakes. Eventually, he collapses completely onto you, body weight pinning you down.

You’re both heaving for air, lungs burning as you try to regain an ounce of composure.

He murmurs something into your shoulder, the vibrations of it rumbling through your bones.

“Hmm?”

“You called me Buck.”

A breathless laugh escapes you, silvery and melodic.

“I’ve been trying not to for two days.”

“I know. You thought you were making a point.”

“I was making a point.”

“Sure, honey. Sure.”

“I hate you,” you grumble, but you can’t wipe the grin off your face. “I also hate that we’ve just made Lucy and Danny the happiest people ever.”

“Oh, shit. I hate it when they’re right.”

He pulls his head from your neck to look at you, resting his cheek against your chest so he can gaze up and into your eyes.

“I’m sure we can keep this a secret for a little while.”

“Yeah… we can’t.”

You quirk your brow at him in a silent question.

“I told Danny I was gonna marry you the minute you walked into the rehearsal dinner in that red dress. Can’t hide how I feel about you, gorgeous. It’s physically impossible.”

You can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through his hair to scratch at his scalp.

“Take me on a date first. Then we’ll talk about marriage, okay?”

“You did say forever, earlier.”

“That I did. Maybe my heart knew something my brain didn’t.”

Buck grins up at you, all blinding and giddy.

“The best man and the maid of honour, huh?”

“That old cliche,” you chuckle. “We weren’t the first, and we won’t be the last.”

“You’ll be my last, gorgeous.”

“Real smooth, Buck. Real smooth.”

“Buck,” he whispers, half in amusement, half in awe.

He could get used to this. You both could.

as always, reblogs are like gold to writers. if you enjoyed this, please reblog!! it’s invaluable <3

@peachysink @jjamjamie @alipap3 @spookyysinsanity @sophiah2253 @annaaaaanguyenn

[teastyun]

༻ pound town

arcane sevika x female reader (nsfw)

a/n: i'm going to war (exam phase is about to start), therefore i must make haste (my hiatus starts again). also, i got a new job so i'm not sure when my hiatus will end :(

pt. 1 ; masterlist

grabbing the broom from the back of your mechanics shop, you start you usual closing routine as the streets of Zaun more active as the day ends. growing up in Zaun, you appreciate the livelihood of the people, but grew wary of the criminality rising abruptly at the end of each day. enforcers started to patrol the quiet streets of Zaun and hang up missing posters of Jinx, who you've been visited by for several occasions over the last few months for tech equipment she required. you grew fond of the girl and would occasionally even slip a few extra pieces, and she would thank you proudly by telling you about her latest new technological improvements.

one time, she told you about a prosthesis as her newest invention. Sevika immediately came to your mind and the way she held your cheek the last and first time you saw her. or the way her bionic arm held your hips so strongly as you rode her strap. shit, you really are down bad for this woman who doesn't even know your name.

as several months gone by since then, you managed to gather your savings and invest it into your shop for new techs and products to sell. you were finally able to call your shop your full time job and scrap your shifts at the brothel completely. Sevika didn't only save your shop, but she saved you from drowning in exhaustion as the only thing you ever did was work day and night.

you hoped to see her again, but your hope was slowly scarped as each month passed by.

after sweeping the last corner of your shop, you only had to rearrange your products before you could finally leave to go home. as you tidied the screws collection, the door to your shop opened audibly by your crystals dangling from the person entering.

"we're closed-" you start, but stop as you see the person at the entrance.

there she was, standing in her usual cloak and a hood that hid her face, but you recognised her nonetheless. she took her hood off with a smile as she looked at you. "good to see you again."

suddenly, you felt naked again. although she knew your identity (prolly even the whole time), the mask would hide your facial expressions and reactions. now, you are standing there with a shocked impression written on your face, unsure of how to react to the person that is the reason for your shop to still be alive.

"i see you created something out of this shop since the last time I've seen you," she speaks with a soft smile on her lips as she takes a look around in your shop. "thank you. you were actually a huge help last time we've seen each other," you respond, your hands linked together behind your back as you turn to look around your shop.

honestly, your shop is quite shady from outside with its half-broken broken neon sign spelling the name mechs n' treasures. but once you enter, you quickly realise that it's a one man's business by it's intricate appearance. it has so much personality now that you have as much time as you'd like to spent in it, decorating it with your favourite things you've collected over the years that weren't too precious to be displayed in your small flat above your shop. a few colourful crystals dangle around your entrance and the door to your flat, reflecting the neon lights from the streets of Zaun onto the mechanic pieces you sell. tidiness is your top priority, since it's hard to keep such an old shop neat and clean. you love your old and shady, but precious personal shop and wouldn't wish it to be any different. business seemed to be booming recently, too. you had no idea why, but Zaun is a quick and fast learning city with its advantages and disadvantages, resulting in people visiting your shop to buy the pieces they require for their newest project.

now, Sevika is standing in the centre of your shop, taking one of the mechanical pieces into her hands and looking at it in detail.

"can i help you with something?" you ask, looking at her with curiosity. after she puts the mechanic piece back into its tray, she says "I was hoping you could me out with this."

she reveals her bionic arm, where you see the its shimmer capsules completely shattered. surprised, you walk towards her and take her bionic arm into her hand to have a closer look. you inhale her smoky scent and suddenly were confronted with a vivid memory of the first night you guys met at the brothel, as you sat in her lap writhing under her touch. focus. you twisted a few pieces to inspect the reachability of the broken capsules. "I assume you won't be able to take it off?" you ask her, your eyes still fixed on an odd piece you've found.

she shakes her head, "it would be a hazard trying to put it on afterwards. do you think you'll still manage to repair, though?"

after twisting the last few pieces for inspection, you leave her arm. "shouldn't be no issue," you take a look at your wristwatch and notice how late it already is. a few extra minutes won't hurt, you decide.

you nod towards the counter, "take a seat, i'll be right with you."

entering the back of your shop and take a big breath. fuck, this intimidating woman still effects you after several months. at this point, you were sure you even forgot about her.

you grab your toolbox and head to Sevika, who is waiting for you behind your counter on a chair. her cloak is thrown over your register's desk, revealing a similar outfit you saw at the brothel. only now you realise how muscular this woman actually is. her arm is almost fully exposed by her sleeveless top and a choker around her neck makes you shake off your dirty thoughts.

you place the toolbox on the counter before you take a seat next to it. Sevika watches every move of yours, making you even more nervous than you already are.

grabbing your first tool, you lay her arm in you lap and start unscrewing the plates that cover the isolation of the shimmer capsules. her arm felt heavy, but oddly warm in your lap for the fact that it's broken. you remember how the same arm pinned you down on her strap a few months ago.

your brain is almost about to malfunction if Sevika wouldn't have interrupted your thoughts, "so, how is your shop going?" she asks as she leans the side of her upper body on the counter. when you look down at her, she's only mere centimetres away from your face. her grey eyes digging into yours. your pussy clenches as your breathing stops at the sight of her. you quickly look away and focus on her arm again. "it's going well," you start and grab for another tool to remove the shattered pipes. "sometimes it's exhausting to handle a shop alone, but you get used to it, you know."

her eyes follow your movements on her arm while she hums as an indication for you to continue. "once, a dude i recognised from the brothel came to pick up a few things and i couldn't help but wonder what his day job is. he was a sex worker as well, so he probably even recognised me," you tell her. it's unusual for you to share thoughts and memories of your old job. you weren't ashamed of it, but you much happier spending your time in your own shop and not thinking back to your old routine.

she shifts in her seat to look up at you, "i'm glad you were able to escape that shit hole, beautiful," she says quietly, careful of the words she chooses, "do you still remember that night?"

your movements halt immediately at her questions and you felt her eyes laying heavily on you, watching every single movement. the way you took a deep breath, trying not to appear nervous around her. the mere thought of that night made you feel butterflies in your stomach and wetness in your core.

"i do," you confess. without meeting her eyes, you continue your maintenance on her bionic arm in your lap, trying to suppress the urge of jumping into her lap and kissing her senseless. "do you?" you ask in almost a whisper, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer.

when she didn't, your eyes travelled to hers in question. she seemed to be in deep thoughts as well before she asked "how couldn't i?"

her eyes finally meet yours and you recognise such sincerity and trust in them, you couldn't help the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips.

"you were the only thing on my mind in this cruel world," she continues, making you feel several things at once. "and i don't even know your name."

you chuckled and referred your eyes back to your almost finished work, concentrating on exchanging the pipes.

"so, you're not even going to tell me?" she asks amused.

"what, my name?" you act oblivious, knowing exactly what she wanted. now it was her turn to chuckle at your teasing. "you can be a pain in the ass, you know that?"

you shake your head in disbelief with a smile on your lips as you screw on the last iron plate on her arm.

"move it," you command and she obliges. she moves her joints, making the shimmer that was left in her tank fuel her new pipe, while moving it a few more times in several directions. you've never seen machinery working with shimmer so closely. you wonder how the metal felt like against your skin.

ripping you out of your trance, she stands up. right in front you, almost between your legs, which you desperately wanted to close at the sight as you felt your pussy clench.

"thank you," she looks at you, her eyes wandering from your neck down to the rest of your body. it's like she can't help herself, checking you out as you sit on her cloak next to your work instruments.

"you even look beautiful in your casual attire," she whispers as her eyes meet yours again.

"so," you wrap your index finger through her choker, "how about taking it off and see what's hidden underneath?" you cock your head before you pull her closer. your legs are opened by her thighs between them as she looks down at you, clearly surprised by your boldness. "i don't fuck nameless girls," she says in an equal tone to her low chuckle.

you take a quick look at her lips, wondering what they would feel like on yours. "didn't seem so last time we've seen each other."

your finger is still wrapped around her chocker as you grin. she didn't answer. she knows you're messing with her.

she places her arms on each of your sides, the sounds of her bionic arm moving leaving a shudder throughout your body. she's dangerously close.

"if i remember correctly, last time you've fucked yourself, princess."

shocked by her comment, your grin fades as you suddenly remember how you rode her in that brothel, eagerly chasing your orgasm as she guided you through it.

you let go of her choker and rest your hand at the back of her neck instead, caressing the soft strands of brunette hair as you try to maintain yourself.

"y/n," you whisper. Sevika's eyes widen at first, but a slight grin sets on her lips at the sound of your name.

"beautiful name, princess," she whispers back and you feel her breath on your lips with each sound she speaks.

you close your eyes as you feel her full lips grazing yours. "y/n," she whispers repeatedly. her lips finally touch yours, first cautiously but confident after a few seconds of lingering. you copy her motions and gasp when her tongue grazes your lower lip.

pressing her more firmly against yourself, you part your lips for her tongue to enter. she faintly tastes like cigarettes, but more of a harsh liquor you can't really pinpoint. your arms cling desperately around her neck, feeling her torso pressed around yours in your heated kiss. you lock her against your core with your legs around her hips, moaning as she leaves your lips to leave kisses on your neck. "you have no idea how often i thought of kissing you," she whispers before she trails down kisses to your exposed shoulder and collarbone, licking the line of it and pressing soft bites against your sweet spots.

instead of responding, you pull her up again and lock your lips together. you press your lower body against her in search of the friction you desperately seek, but with no success. her lips form into a smirk against your lips as she realises what you're seeking.

frustrated, you separate yourself from her and motion for her to step aside, so you could jump of the counter. "i have a bed upstairs," you tell her. Sevika stands there confused, but god does she look hot. her lips are glazed from your spit and her hair looks slightly tousled from your hand that clung to it.

she doesn't let you move, though. instead, her hands are pressed firmly on your side as she still stand between your legs. "i thought that might be more comfortable..." you say, unsure of the current situation. she shifts in her stance to let you stand up.

"fuck, yes. i mean, yes, let's go upstairs," she chuckles after stumbling over her own words and her bionic arm moves to gesture you to lead the way. you laugh at her sudden awkwardness but go ahead to lock up your shop.

walking up the stairs, you fumble for your home's keys. Sevika followed you closely behind, touching your waist and kissing your neck as you try to unlock the door, a sigh escapes your lips as you try to unlock your door.

as the door closes behind you, she pins you against it. her hand holds your wrist against the door as she kisses you feverishly. her bionic arm slips beneath your ass to lift you up, so you could wrap your legs around her hips. you press your breasts against her, trying to seek for any further touches. "the bed, Sev," you say between kisses, too occupied to actually resist her touch.

she ignores your words and losses her grip on your wrists instead to wander to the buttons of your shirt, never breaking the kiss. "patience, beautiful," she whispers as her lips leave yours to press a kiss on your cheek. "we have all night, right?"

your arms find their way back around her neck, playing with her loose hair. "please," you respond, your eyes making contact with hers. you peck her lips before you say, "i want to touch you, too."

her head falls onto your shoulder as she groans, "you make me loose my composure so easily," before looking back into your eyes with need and desperation "do you realise that?"

you grin at her confession and kiss her hot and wet, moaning into the kiss as she continues to unbutton your shirt until your bra is exposed to her hand. she grazes the outlines with her fingertips, making a shudder run through your body as you gasp. you press your chest into her touch and she gladly responds with cupping your breast while biting your lower lip.

her index finger grazes your puffy nipple through your bra and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips.

she pecks you one last time with a smile, before looking around your small flat, seemingly inspecting your small setup where your bedroom and living room are combined to your cozy grove.

her hand moves to your back, stabilising you in her arms before she finally heads to your bed to lay you down on it, watching you as you lay there with your undone shirt and the few strands that escaped your hairstyle completely wordless.

similar to her, you exhale at the sight in front of you. Sevika is still fully clothed, so you pull her down by her collar to kiss her hard, wrapping your legs around her waist to pull her body on top of you. "take this off," she whispers against your lips, her bionic hand gripping your shirt as her hand sneaks behind your neck to tilt your head for her to suck.

she kisses and bites your sweet spot, disrupting your motion of pulling your shirt off and making your eyes roll back in pleasure. you moan her name in frustration before she finally let's go.

"this too," she tells you as she eyes every little detail on your torso. when you take your bra off, her bionic hand cups your breast. the sharp and cold details of her metallic hand exposed on one of your most sensitive parts of your body leave you breathing hard, moaning as her pointy fingers pinch and twist your nipple. "you have no idea how often i thought of touching them since that night," her eyes are not leaving your chest as she confesses.

"you could've touched them that night," you respond, your hand finding the back of her head as you play with her small ponytail. after hearing your words she looks at you, almost with a shocked expression on her face. "there's no way i would have touched you without your consent," she tells you. surprised by this sudden turn, you move up to rest your weight on your elbows, looking at her in disbelief. "but you payed for that night with me," you state, still confused by what she just said.

she's just as surprised as you, cupping your cheek softly as she spoke, "y/n, i would never do anything to you without your consent. do you know that?" she asks you, her eyes never leaving yours as she spoke. you've never experienced any sex partner expressing their respect to you verbally. and fuck, this is probably the moment you realise you have feelings for this woman in front of you. you nod in response, still overwhelmed from your thoughts and feelings. she smiles at you as she says, "good girl."

your soaking pussy almost purred at that nickname. kissing her quick but softly, you grind your clothed hips against hers as you kiss a trail down her neck to her exposed collarbone.

she exhales heavily at your motions before saying, "tell me what you want, beautiful."

"i want you to fuck me," you respond after hesitating, still nibbling at her collarbone as a soft moan escapes her.

"with this," you continue as you grind stronger onto her clothed cunt than before.

her bionic arm holds herself on the bed as her fingers trace your curves. "with my fingers?" she teases as she opens your trousers with her other hand slowly.

your lips move up to her ear, licking and biting her soft skin. "no," you whisper, "with this."

you press the seam of her jeans with your fingers against her clit, making her grip your hips hard from your sudden touch. "fuck," she mutters in response, clearly trying to compose herself before she continues to fully undress you.

"under one condition," she starts as she takes in your naked body with hungry eyes, "i'll have a taste before i fuck you," she unbuttons her shirt, revealing a dark bandeau bra beneath. she's in a hurry, so she won't bother to take off her unbuttoned shirt, but moves on by removing her jeans as well as underwear in one go.

you try to take a peek at her body, but she immediately kneels between your legs to kiss the soft skin of your thighs, dragging her motions slowly to your soaking pussy as her hands hold you firm beneath her touch. feeling her breath on your clit, you whine from sensitivity, gripping the sheets beneath you as she finally tastes you for the first time.

both of you moan from the touch, your hips stutter beneath her strong hands. she eats you out like a starving woman, humming at the sounds you're making. your clit is circled by her tongue as she softly bites and sucks before your legs start shaking from the pleasure that builds up in your lower belly.

she moves her arm from your thigh to press softly against it, realising how close you are. "come on my tongue," she tells you, intensifying her motions as you come hard. the way you moan her name sounds similar to a scream, your thighs pressing against her head as you throw your head back in pleasure.

she gently guides you through it by licking in decreasing motions, careful of your sensitivity. as your calming down, she kisses your clit one last time before she straightens herself to watch you after your first high.

her lips and chin are glistening from her pussy and strands that were originally framing her face now hang loosely. "you did so well, beautiful," she whispers, climbing on top of you to press kisses into your face. "fuck, you really sent me to another dimension," you confess, laughing a litte at the absurdity. she chuckles at your words, grinning as she examines your face.

"are you still down for another round?" she asks carefully, giving you the space you might need, but you nod as you smile at her. she kisses you before she straightens again to manhandle your legs, placing one on her shoulder as she moves her own over your other to align with your pussy, not starting just yet. she caresses the long on her shoulder as she presses kisses along with it.

she looks absolutely breathtaking while doing it. you feel her pussy kissing yours, and fuck, she's driving you crazy. the unbuttoned shirt exposes the abs you eyed earlier through the tightness of her shirt. her v-line is deeply defined, even more when she starts to slowly grind against you. her pointy bionic fingers suddenly press into your thigh as she gasps from the pleasure she suddenly receives. her grey eyes watch you heavily, making sure you're alright with her pace as she slowly picks it up.

"you feel so good," you whimper as you meet her motions by copying hers, crying from the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm. "fuck- i'm close again."

she grins at your confession, pushing herself harder on your clit as you cry out from the friction. she's mostly quiet, but a gasp escapes her lips anytime you improve your speed.

"come with me, y/n" she leans down, kissing you with so much passion as her eyebrows furrow in pleasure. you moan into the kiss, your breasts moving with each thrust as your nipples graze against the cotton of her bandeau. you felt your orgasm creeping, but you weren't ready for the intensity it comes with. you cry out against her lips, holding her against you as you feel her groaning from her own orgasm. both your hips stutter in your motions before you stop to look at her.

her head rests in the nape of your neck and the only thing you feel is her hot breath against your skin. as you untangle your legs, you kiss on the side of her head. "are you alright?" you ask after several seconds of silence.

she vaguely nods, still maintaining her breath before she answers "you have no idea what you're doing to me."

you smile as you caress her hair through your fingers. "i'd love to figure it out in the future," you continue, making space between your faces so you could look at her as you speak. "this idea you've just mentioned," you clarify as she looks at you speechless.

she kisses you passionately after a few seconds, smiling as she realises what you were suggesting.

"let me take you to dinner after your shift tomorrow?" she asks as her thumb trails your cheekbone. you nod, kissing her on the cheeks before you answer "gladly."

you both fall asleep, and sooner or later date nights with Sevika become your favourite traditions as you two engage in a passionate, but intimate relationship with each other.

tags: @sevsbaby @womenathleteshaveme @macaroni676

masterlist

[ellecdc]

girl girl hear me out YAPPER GF X REGULUS!! Pls pls pls like u could do anything u wanted with them!!! I have a few ideas (take any or none)

May be she just walks up to him one day like clearly wanting to befriend him cuz she has a lil crush and just starts yapping about how the great hall had her fave pastry for breakfast today and he's so confused but also intrigued and then she starts sitting next to him in classes and asking him to hang out at hogsmead and she just yaps and sometimes she thinks may be he zones out but then he'll bring up this super niche detail she mentioned last time like "hey what happened to that quill you forgot in the potions lecture?"

they r already dating and she worries she's too much energy and talk for him and tries to be quiet and he's just like r u sick? R u mad at me? What's wrong u haven't gone on a 30 min description/rant about ur day

3. May be someone else brings up she talks a lot and Reggie defends her?

you guys really love your bubbly/talkative readers with Regulus, don't you? (so do i); thanks for your request!

Regulus Black x yapper!reader who didn't think he was actually listening

CW: fem!reader, rolling thoughts, brief mention of difficulty making friends, people talking about reader behind her back, swear words (on ellecdc? nooo [sarcasm])

Your family said that you had an incessant need to fill silence from the moment you could talk. 

“If there’s a room with our daughter in it, you can be certain that it won’t be quiet.” Your mum had proclaimed as she beamed at you lovingly one day.

While it was certainly a trait that your family had always found rather endearing, you felt that it made it particularly difficult making friends once you began attending Hogwarts. 

But the friends you managed to make loved you for it, and they had often stated “you can call her what you want but you can’t call her boring.” 

That didn’t mean your other classmates appreciated your stories or tangents, though. 

Which is how you ended up serving numerous detentions for speaking during class or lectures and disturbing the students around you, and how you’d been cycled through numerous seat partners in potions class. 

And that is how poor Regulus Black ended up stuck sharing a worktable with the likes of you.

He didn’t seem to mind, though. And if he did, well, he certainly never said anything about it.

You were quite sure he tuned you out during your rambles, hardly ever sparing you a glance and keeping his eyes trained on his parchment in front of him as he took dutiful notes during lectures.

Couldn’t be you, however.

No.

You were too busy lamenting about the fact that you couldn’t get more than twenty feet to the mooncalf herd up the hill behind the quidditch pitch before they would all run off. They only came out at night, you see, and you wanted to take some photos of them. Some photos turned into midnight picnics, and picnics turned into sharing apple slices by means of throwing them towards the bug-eyed beasts and watching them argue over the slice until you threw another. But even after feeding them forty seven apples and counting at this point (Winky the house elf from the kitchen was not pleased with you), they still wouldn’t let you get any closer to them.

Your next course of action was to try a smellier and higher value treat; you wondered then if mooncalves could have tuna? Tuna was certainly smelly enough. Well, if you couldn’t entice the mooncalves, you’d certainly entice a cat or two. 

You wondered then if mooncalves and cats got along? Kneazles were nearly the same size as the poor beasts, but cats were much smaller. You figured cats would look at a mooncalf the same way they’d look at a goat. 

You’d seen a cat ride a goat once, not many people believed you, though. You’d have to learn how to make a pensieve one day just to prove it to everyone. You didn’t much care for goats, though; something about their square pupils seemed alien to you. 

Which seemed odd considering there were numerous beasts in the magical world that really were quite alien, yet it was  goats that did it for you.

And why were they always associated with the devil? Was it because of the square pupils? Do you think there’d be a book that explained that?

But you didn’t even realise that the period had ended until Regulus stood and collected his books, offering you a curt nod before leaving the classroom. 

Fuck….do you think he’d let you copy his notes? 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Merlin’s tits, she never stops talking! I feel bad for the poor sod stuck next to her; Black probably wants to avada himself every class. You heard a classmate mutter as you walked to your workbench, movements slowed as you lowered yourself into your chair and tried not to let their words hurt you. 

You were used to the comments, you were used to the sentiment honestly; did they think it was easy being you? Did they think you didn’t get tired of listening to yourself too? 

Of course you did, it was exhausting; your brain never stopped moving, and apparently, neither did your mouth.

But it did hurt a little, perhaps because Regulus had been quite gracious about it thus far. He had listened to you carry on about the astrological significance of space waste and how that was affecting the magic of the stars. He had listened to you bemoan about the positive impact that centaur migration had on local flora and fauna and how the fencing of fields and forests was going to cause unimaginable damage to the life cycles of such. He also had listened to your morose mooncalf story and the update the next day that you were able to order cans of tuna via owl to the castle.

And he’d not so much as bat an eye at you.

Certainly he’d have said something to you if you bothered him? 

Although, perhaps this was why Slughorn put him beside you, because he knew Regulus wouldn’t say anything; had Regulus done something to anger Slughorn? Was placing you beside Regulus less about you driving your seat mates crazy, but more about being a punishment for Regulus?

Well, you couldn’t imagine Regulus had done anything bad enough to deserve a full term with you as a potions partner.

No, you decided, you would not be his punishment.

So when Regulus entered class that day, and Slughorn read out the instructions for today’s potion brew, you resisted the urge to speak.

You were quiet when retrieving your potion ingredients, you were quiet as you checked and double checked the brewing instructions, and you were quiet as you waited for the potion to reach its boiling point. 

You actually thought you’d done quite well; you sort of wished you had started a timer, this may very well have been a record for you. 

Well, unless sleeping counted. Would sleeping count as being quiet? Oh gods, what if you talked in your sleep too!? You’d have to ask your roommates.

“L/N.” Regulus called as if it hadn’t been the first time he’d done so. “You alright?” He asked, ducking down in an attempt to meet your gaze as you watched a divot appear between his brows.

“Yeah? Why?” You asked, finding yourself furrowing your brows in solidarity; you found Regulus to be too pretty to look so worried. 

He shrugged his shoulders and straightened up, though the space between his brows remained divoted. “You’ve been awfully quiet, s’all.” He murmured quietly, and you were surprised to see a dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You muttered perhaps pointedly; his eyes narrowing to match the furrowed brows. 

“Says who?”

Your eyes traitorously darted to the students who had been discussing your habits, and Regulus followed your gaze.

He rolled his eyes and muttered something in French under his breath as he turned his attention back towards your shared potion. “Those tossers are just mad that they have nothing of value to say.”

You more felt than heard a disbelieving breath escape your lips as you looked at Regulus in bemusement. 

He didn’t seem to notice though, as he continued to the next step in your potion and carried on. “Did the tuna work?”

You stared at him dumbly before your brain kicked back into gear. “I beg your pardon?”

“The tuna.” He repeated. “For the mooncalves?”

Oh.

“Oh.” You started, giving your head a shake as you tried to find your balance you had long lost during this conversation. “Erm, no, but I did indeed attract a few cats.”

“Ah.” Regulus offered, smiling at you (or at the expected poof from the potion signifying that the two of you had brewed it correctly thus far). 

“Also, I found out why goats are often associated with the devil, but the book you’d be looking for is Biblical in nature.”

You stared at him with your mouth agape as he continued. “There’s a quote where that Christ bloke mentions something about separating people from one another just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. They’re used as a metaphor for the ‘bad’ or ‘inferior’ member of any group; it could also be understood as the divide between the pure and the wicked. I say goats got a bad rap, though.”

The next step in your potion brewing process was to allow the potion to simmer until it turned a milky white colour, so Regulus lowered the heat before appearing to remember something.

“I almost forgot…” He started as he began rooting through his book bag. “I asked the shopkeep at Brood & Peck, and she said this is a favourite of mooncalves; maybe you’ll have more luck tonight?” He asked as he held out a parchment of beast treats to you. 

“You’ve been listening? This whole time?” You whispered in awe as you took the bag delicately as if  he had just handed you a delicate china dish. 

His brows furrowed again as he searched your eyes. “Well…yeah? I’m rather invested now.” He explained just as your potion turned its intended colour. 

“Very good Mr. Black, Miss. L/N.” Professor Slughorn commented as he walked past your workbench. 

You were alerted to the fact that class was over when everyone’s potions were vanished with a pop and students started to pack up their belongings.

“You’ll keep me posted, yeah? About the mooncalves?” Regulus asked as he started walking backwards towards the door. 

“Sure.” You murmured, earning you a wide smile from the notoriously quiet boy. 

Yes… You’d be more than happy to keep Regulus Black posted.

[nezuscribe]

𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

part two of after all this time

summary: you try to make sense of everything after that night with gojo satoru, the slytherin prince, but as much as you try to run away from it, it seems to follow you more. but he has to hate you for it, right? that could be the only explanation for why he seeks you out...right?

warnings: 18+ mdni all characters are 18, gojo slight angst, messy makeout, gojo eating pussy like his life depended on it, fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex

word count: 12k

note: yay! part two is done! please comment and reblog, it's really appreciated. thank you @jadeisthirsting for beta reading! <3

slytherin!gojo masterlist + jjk masterlist

If there was one thing you grew to understand about Hogwarts, it was that the castle was entirely unpredictable. 

From the moving staircases, the random ghosts that would appear out of nowhere, to the disappearing portraits that sometimes only reappeared to listen in on student gossip, you knew you had to expect the unexpected when it came to ancient school. 

But never in your wildest imagination would you have thought that you would’ve kissed Gojo Satoru. 

You couldn’t even pretend that it didn’t happen, despite the fact you wanted so desperately to obliviate your mind and move along with your life. 

You could still feel his lips on yours, even days after it happened. You could feel his hands on your body, the way he held you to him, the way he kissed down your neck. You could still hear the way he said your name, breathless, almost desperate. 

“Fuck,” he had whispered, heavy on your lips as he dipped down again to kiss down your chin tilting your head up to expose the column of your neck, “Fuck,” he said once more, diving down as he sucks and bites at your skin, his movements growing faster and more erratic once he hears the soft and sweet mewls that escape your swollen lips. 

You tried to blink it away.

“Satoru,” he had said against your skin, “Not Gojo. Not you.” 

Not you. 

That Saturday and Sunday you refused to move from your bed, huddled under blankets as the other girls in your dorm came and went. You could hear the loud party they held after yet another win at the quidditch game, so you just cast a silencio charm around your room, feeling your mattress create a permanent dent in the fetal position you were lying in. 

One of the kinder girls of your dormitory, Celeste, crouched down to where your head peeked out from your swarm of blankets, her brown brows furrowed together with worry, but you promised her it was just a stomach flu, nothing to worry about, and told her to go enjoy the party. 

That next Monday morning you made sure to go to the transfiguration classroom, glad to find that skipping breakfast helped to see that nobody except for Professor McGonagall seemed to be in the room, of course, aside from that little snowy owl perched atop her desk, its wide eyes blinking slowly at you as you walked in.

You remember how Professor McGonagall looked up briefly, annoyed that a student was here before classes even started, but she did a double take when she noticed it was you, welcoming you by saying your last name with a little bit of surprise. 

“How may I help you?” Her eyes looked at you over her glasses, her hands lay flat on her desk, next to the quill she was just using. 

“Professor, I have a request to ask of you.” 

A part of you was glad that you were such a good student, one who never asked for much and gave everything you had towards the work you did, especially for her class. McGonagall’s thin bow raised slightly, her lips pursing together as you motioned for you to continue. You swallowed thickly, pulling out the thick pieces of parchment tied together, your contribution to her essay, as you laid it down on her table. 

“I would like to change my partners…if possible,” your voice was shaking, “I have my work all done here,” quickly going to show her the work that you had done, but her hand outstretched, her slender finger grasping yours as you halted your movements. 

When you looked at her face, the only emotion you could trace, which was one you had never seen on the older woman, was genuine concern.

“Has Satoru done…something” She tried to find the right words, but you insistently shook your head, trying to act as if nothing was wrong aside from you.

“No, no,” you sputter out, “It’s me. He’s done nothing wrong. I just,” you sigh, trying to calm down your heart, noting that the large clock outside had struck three times and that her first-year students would be filing in any minutes, “Please, I’d do the rest of the essay alone if necessary.” You know that you were pleading with her at this point, but you couldn’t care. 

McGonagall looked you over once, noting the bags under your eyes, the way you actively looked like you hadn’t slept in days, and thought for a long second before she nodded, waving you along as other students started to come in. 

“I’ll take care of it,” she said, a promise, and you thanked her extensively, bidding her goodbye as you ran across school to make sure you didn’t miss Lupin’s riveting defense against the dark arts lesson about warding off vampires. 

And she stuck to her word. 

That day you sat in your usual seat, in the back, but instead of Gojo sitting next to you was a disgruntled Charlie Reeve, his arms crossed like a petulant child, depressed to be split up with his friend despite not having any work done. 

You saw his flash of white hair, stopping in confusion when he saw the Gryffindor in his seat, your eyes locking briefly as his nose flared. 

“Oh, Mister Gojo, I had to rearrange some partners,” Professor McGonagall called out, motioning him to come sit up front with Benny Thompson, “Some people thought it’d be better to leave this essay until it was absolutely necessary.” She cast the two Gryffindor boys a knowing look, not necessarily a lie, and deep inside you felt grateful that she was able to find something believable. 

And so, with all of your tedious efforts to make sure that you never bumped into Gojo Satoru, you went weeks without really seeing him. 

Of course, it was difficult, increasingly so as it seemed that he was everywhere you went. When you went to the library, he was there, at your usual table, either reading or working on homework, which meant that you had to weasel your way into the astronomy tower to do your work.

And then he began to go to the astronomy tower, you’d see him looking over the ledge, his hair flickering in the wind, his back thankfully to the stairs as you quietly made your way down, running away to find somewhere else. 

Sometimes when you were lying in bed, trying to go to sleep, unwillingly, your mind traveled back to that night. And it seemed like all your hard work was in vain because despite trying to act as if he didn’t exist, he was something that you could never forget. 

Gojo acted indifferent, however, which both helped and stung a bit. Helped because you were glad he went back to forgetting that you existed, and though you wanted him to act as if he maybe had feelings for you, you knew he never would, and so you blended back into the background

But despite it all, you found that somehow October bled into the unforgiving winds of November, which slowly turned into the winter of December. 

Your classes were wrapping up, and teachers no longer cared much seeing that they too were looking forward to the long-awaited and deserved break.

You found that with the workload that was slowly dying down (for you at least, seeing how you had finished up most of your exams, and all the essays and projects the professors had assigned to you months in advance were done, unlike some people who believed in the power of magic enough to leave it to the last week), you visited Hogsmeade more. It offered you some solace to take your mind off of everything. 

The snow was beginning to set both on the ground and on top of all the roofs and signs, making the small village look like a wonderland you’d see inside a snow globe. A part of you couldn’t stop the happy smile that made it on your face as you walked through the cobblestone streets, looking inside every shop as if you had the money to spend. 

On one of the Saturdays, you were able to give yourself a rest from the work you had to finish before the break started. You bundled up, a silver and green scarf wrapped around your neck, your old mittens (passed down from your mother, of course), and your thickest knitted sweater, went out for Hogsmade. 

Hogsmeade is usually busy during December, which you like, pretending that you were somewhere far away, perhaps a little village in France, as you gently make your way around the eager students ready to buy things for their families for the holidays. 

After a couple of years of visiting this place, you’ve picked up some key knowledge. Never go to Honeydukes before seven, otherwise, it’s entirely ransacked and they sometimes stock up on Saturdays at half past seven. Zonko’s is only good once in a while, otherwise, it’s too overwhelming, and Gladrags Wizardwear had something marked off if they went unnoticed for too long. 

And, perhaps the best part of your visits to Hogsmeade, you had a pass from McGonagall, which let you stay an extra two hours. While most students made their way back before their ten o’clock curfew at night, you were able to get special permission from Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape to stay till midnight. 

You told them that you didn’t do anything crazy and that the only reason why you longed to stay out late was really only for Saturdays because the three broomsticks sometimes brought in the wizarding jazz society, a group of witches and wizards who played live on their respective instruments. It was your favorite part of Hogsmeade, and after some negotiation, you were allowed out after ten. 

But before then, you spent your time in the other shops, browsing for nothing in particular. 

You found yourself admiring some of the intricately made quills outside a window that was on display. Surely expensive, but you simply looked at them, your face almost pressing up against the chilly glass to get a closer look. 

There was a group of friends a couple of feet away from you, and you could hear the giggling now and then about something, but you didn’t think it’d be best if you looked over to see what was going on, mind your own business. 

You walked along, moving to the next shop window when you noticed that the giggling almost seemed to be following you.   

You felt yourself peeking over briefly, somehow not being shocked that it was some of the seventh-year Slytherins, the kids you had grown up with, looking over at you, the girls pointing to something near you as they laughed behind their hands. 

Tough skin, you reminded yourself, trying to ignore it as you tried to look at the new cauldrons. At least, you would’ve distracted yourself had you not heard a loud, almost animated rip. 

You look down, but not quickly enough to see your bag tear open, some of your knuts fell out, along with your chapstick, your tissues, and some other miscellaneous things. 

It didn’t take a genius to glance over at the girls, to see one of them with their wands out as one of the other girls cackles, and while you were used to their antics, it didn’t hurt any less.

You bent down, going on your knees, trying to find some of the things that had disappeared in the snow. One of the girls, Avery McKenna, who talked loud seemed to talk even louder, as if wanting to get your attention. 

“Satoru! Satoru, look!” She spoke in a whisper which was louder than your normal speaking voice, and you looked from your lashes at the mention of his name. 

And you saw him as one of the other girls shuffled around, tugging at his coat sleeves to direct his attention away from whatever shop window he was looking into as she pointed a finger at you on the ground. You quickly looked back down before you made eye contact with him, your fingers growing cold from the bite of the snow. 

You didn’t want to know what he looked like, what sort of smile would take over his face at the sight of you looking like this. You pick up your bag, putting it under your arms so that it won’t grow wet from the snow, inspecting the gash with a heavy heart, realizing that there’s no way to mend it. It looks like a wolf had slashed its claws through the fabric, something that no needle and thread, or even a reparo charm could fix.

You shove the coins in your pockets, holding the rest in your gloved hands as you stand up, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as you feel their stares on you, the snow seeping in through your pants, causing you to shiver as you try to find a place you could into to get this sorted. 

Thankfully, The Three Broomsticks was just up ahead, and so you tried to mute out all the people behind you as you turned your back, walking up the street as you heard the snow crunch under your shoes, sniffing from the cold as you walked into the familiar pub. 

—-

The Three Broomsticks was a Hogsmeade staple. 

Inside the pub was a roomy place, a fire always lit in the corner, the flames crackling almost all the shouts and yells and drunk laughter. Up on the stone walls were photographs of famous witches and wizards who had visited the pub, paintings of people long past that used to frequent it, and family members of those who owned it. It smelled of ale and peppermint, the atmosphere warm and welcoming, something that you always enjoyed. 

It was usually full, so you count yourself lucky to find a little empty booth near the back. 

You got some water seeing how the last knut you needed to buy a butterbeer got lost somewhere in all the snow, and laid out all of your things on the table, including your mauled-up bag. 

You wipe at your eyes, careful that nobody sees the stray tears, and allow yourself to sit against the wooden booth, shutting your eyes for a second. 

You count to ten, allow yourself to calm your breathing down, and crack your neck, moving it around to your left and right side. The sun was nearly starting to set and it was already five, so it was going to be a bit before their usual jazz band came. Although you’d been looking forward to it since last week, at this point you just wanted to go back, have some soup, and then sleep. 

When you open your eyes you find yourself staring at the ceiling, breathing deeply through your nose as you look back down, a surprised gasp escaping your lips to find somebody sitting in front of you.  

“I-” Gojo starts but you’ve already started collecting all of your things off the table, your heartbeat skyrocketing as you shove whatever you can in your pockets, sitting up as you try to leave.  

But he’s fast, sitting up from his seat, blocking you with his tall body as you feel your heart in your throat, pounding away rapidly as you try to look away from him. 

He’s here, he’s here, he’s here. 

His hand is holding your elbow, he’s holding you, and he seems desperate, his eyes searching yours, begging you to just listen to him. 

Why is he here? Why is he holding you?

“Can we talk?” His white brows are furrowed, his lips parted as his thumb rubs up and down on your skin, “Please?” 

What does he want? 

You’re looking at him, really looking at him for the first time in months, and despite not seeing him face to face for a while, you can still notice the little changes. There are bags under his eyes, he seems worn down. His eyes, the ones that you often dreamed about, were swirling with unspoken emotions. His lips looked like they were chewed raw, much like yours. 

But he still looks like he did that one night in October, the way he spoke your name as if it were the only thing he could say, his hair tousled by the December winds, and his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. 

“I n-need to…” you swallow thickly, your mouth running dry as your eyes dart around to not look at him, “I need to go.” 

But you don’t, and he knows that you don’t.

“Your water…miss,” the waitress suddenly comes around with your mug full to the brim with water, looking curiously at you and Gojo as she sets it down on the table, giving you a small smile as she walks away. 

“Please,” he says one more time, and his voice is heavy, piercing through your chest and into your mind, working like a devil’s snare as it wraps itself around you until you are entrapped by everything that is him. 

You look at the door of the pub, noting that none of his friends are either there or outside, and you look at him once more.

You lick at your gnawed lips, letting out a defeated sigh as you give him a single nod, watching as his face breaks into a smile, his shoulders sagging from the release of tension as he helps you back into your seat and climbs into his own, across from you, and you set all your stuff back on the table. 

His eyes follow your movements, look at your bag and the contents that used to be in it and he whips out his wand, going to cast a spell before you cut him off. 

“Reparo didn’t work,” you mutter, fidgeting with your fingers as you awkwardly sink into your seat, watching him intently as if he had been a painting you’d been studying that suddenly came to life. 

His eyes flicker to yours and he puts his wand away sheepishly. 

“I didn’t know that they were going to do that,” he finally says, breaking the silence. 

You nod curtly, looking at your hands resting in your lap as you try to think of what to say. Of which emotion you should call upon to do the talking for you, which thing you had been itching to say to him ever since that night. 

“It’s nothing they haven’t before,” you finally say, looking up at him with a sad smile, watching as his chest rattles with an inhale. His fingers are interlocked with each other as they rest on the table, his green sweater resting snuggly on his muscular frame as he leans in, as if he were scared you were going to disappear. 

He goes to open his mouth to speak, but you cut him off again. 

“Why do you care?” 

His mouth shuts, his blue eyes shimmering brightly in the light of the fireplace. He doesn’t seem angry or annoyed, just shocked. 

“What?” 

You breathe roughly out your nose, looking away briefly as you click your tongue against your teeth, your fingers gliding across the mug, the little water droplets that slid onto the table creating a ring around the cup. You twist and turn it around by the handle, deep in thought. 

“Why do you care so much? Why do you care about what happens to me?” You press, your head tilting to the side. You try to look fierce, trying to channel the anger, the pain, the hurt that you’ve been feeling not only since October but since you first stepped foot through that castle. 

His lips parted as if he were going to say something, but his head dipped, his fingers playing with that gold ring on his finger, the one of his family crest. 

“I…” Gojo can’t seem to finish, can’t seem to find the words. But that’s fine because you’re finding them for him. 

“I’ll find a new purse and I’ll move along with my day because I’m used to this Gojo,” your voice is slowly growing, “I’m used to your friends, to you and your pureblood hierarchy. So stop acting like you’re this hero that should get rewarded with whatever it is you want from me by talking to me o-or pitying me,” you ramble, your voice dripping with venom, your eyes stinging as you try to control yourself, “Just please stop acting like you care.” 

He doesn’t say anything, his lips pressed together tightly, his jaw ticking. His eyes reflect a storming sea right now, one a sailor would never return from.

“That night, when you kissed me,” your voice was loud enough to be a whisper, but he hears you, his breathing hitching as he most likely thinks back to that night, “Were you able to cross off another check mark on your list? Did you finally fulfill all the crazy things you wanted to accomplish?” 

“Stop,” he seethes out through clenched teeth, his eyes daring you to continue. 

You’re glad that the pub is so busy and so loud to cover the two of you. 

“Did I taste different than the pureblood girls? Than Alicent? Than Eliana?” You pushing him, pushing at his buttons because this has to be it, this has to be when he finally tells you that you were some bet that he made with his friends, that kissing you was worth some extra galleons to fill his pockets as he came back gallivanting to the other Slytherin purebloods. 

His eye twitches, his breathing heavy as he murmurs another stop but you just shake your head, hoping that he doesn’t see the gloss covering your eyes, the way your lips are trembling thinking of all the possibilities. 

“You’re mean, Gojo,” the words fall from your lips, heavy, pointed straight at him, and you can feel a tear drop down your chin, splattering on the table, right next to all the water droplets from your mug, “A-and you don’t even realize it. Or maybe you do, I don’t know,” you shrug, “Those weeks when we were working on that essay I sent an owl to my mum and she sent one back saying how happy she was that I finally had a friend.” 

There’s a beat of silence. 

You can’t stand to look at his face. 

You helplessly wipe at your cheeks, looking away as you heaved in a shaky breath, nodding confidently for your own sake as you stood up.

“I need to go,” you mutter,  your water sat untouched as you made your way around the people standing and talking, made your way out the door, and let your tears loose. 

—

The break couldn’t come by any faster. 

You occupied your time and mind by doing everything possible. 

You found a broom closet that was big and comfortable enough for you to do your work, and most days you found yourself there. You ate your meals alone, as always, and made sure that wherever Gojo was, you weren’t.

One of the only things you could look forward to was when the holidays came and when everybody left. It meant that only a handful of Slytherin’s stayed and that meant that you could finally have some moments of quiet to yourself. 

Hogwarts was a different kind of magical during Christmas time, and you tried to take time to appreciate the dozen trees, the floating candles that had red ribbons tied around them, the little snow clouds that sometimes followed you around, and the mistletoes that some of the fifth years thought would be funny to hang up around the castle. 

And when the breaks finally came around, you watched as people bid each other farewell, their bags packed sufficiently enough for the two-week break as they made their way out of the school and to the train, waving at each other until they departed. 

You watched from the stairs, knowing that you too could go home, but seeing that your mom picked up more shifts around the holidays, you’d just be spending these two weeks alone rather than surrounded by strangers, which you still preferred. 

The professors seemed to be in a better mood around this time as well, and it helped with distracting you from all the other thousand thoughts that were running through your mind. 

The Slytherin common room was always empty around this time of year. Seeing that most of the kids went to their families, it gave you some time to actually enjoy the amenities you usually miss out on during other times of the year. 

The room itself was decorated with a large Christmas tree near the large, arching window that looked out into the black lake, and stockings on the fireplace of those students that were staying. 

Despite Slytherin and their hatred for the color red, the room was a nice mix between the two clashing colors. 

After dinner, on the first night with everyone gone, you made your way down to the dungeons, muttering out the password as the large doors swept open, allowing you inside. 

Your first thought was to sit in front of the fireplace on one of the couches and catch up on reading, but seeing that there was almost nobody here you decided to go change into something more comfortable. 

Making your way up the stairs that led to the girl's dormitories you noted that most of those who were staying were relays from years before, some fourth and sixth years, a couple of first years, and rounded the corner that led to your room. 

Well, that would’ve led to your room had it not been blocked. 

“Sorry!” You cry out in surprise, a little shocked, and then your shock melts away as you feel like banging your head against the stone wall when you see that it is none other than Gojo. 

“I need to tell you someth-”

“The train left!” You cry out, feeling like dragging him out by his hair. 

“I’m aware-”

“Then why aren’t you on it?” You push past him as you go to open your door, feeling him right behind you. 

You’re glad that all of your other roommates are gone because Gojo doesn’t seem to be giving it much thought as he comes in as well. 

Your arms are crossed as you look around, looking for something, anything, that you could use to ward him away. He’s standing awkwardly at the doorway, wringing his fingers in a way that he never does. 

He’s wearing a loose sweater, gray in color, and it seems to make his eyes even more striking. There are still bags under his eyes, but his face seems a little more flushed as if he was slowly coming back from the dead. His white hair is tousled, and you note that he hasn’t styled it in a while. 

“I’ve been thinking ever since the three broomsticks,” he’s talking and you’re pacing around the room, trying to act like you don’t care that he’s here, “And I have some things I need to tell you.” 

You’re rummaging around in one of your cupboards, but he knows what you’re doing, and he steps a little closer to you, shutting the door behind him as you glance up at him briefly, raising a brow. 

He swallows, running a hand through his white strands as you turn your back to him, looking through your jewelry box as you begin to take off your earrings. 

“I saw you, this summer.”

You stop. 

Gojo continues. 

“My parents had some ministry work to do, and we went to the city. I was walking around one day, trying to figure out where I was supposed to go when I saw you,” Gojo sounded nearer, his voice more desperate, “I saw you through a window. You were working… I think. You had this apron on and you were walking around this little restaurant.” 

You swear you could hear your heartbeat. 

“And you were smiling at something this guy said, and you just looked so…happy,” he pauses, “And pretty…you looked so pretty and I didn’t know what to do because I’ve never felt this strange feeling in my chest where…” 

Where everything just stops, then starts moving in tandem as if there had been a loose screw the entire time until now. 

“And I think I’ve always felt this way, you know?” He’s not stopping, and you’re scared that if you look at him you’re going to believe him, believe that he’s telling the truth and that this isn’t some sort of dream you’re forcing yourself to see, “In our fifth year, when you were telling the class about your happiest memory, you had this smile on your face. Or last year, when we were in potions and Nanami said a joke, you’d laugh and I just felt so…lost.” 

He’s lying. 

“N-no, no, you’re lying,” you croak out, moving past him as you keep your head down, going over to your bed as you sit at the end of it, needing something to sit down on because otherwise you’d collapse.

“I’m not,” Gojo pleads, his voice behind you, “And for so long I thought I was lying to myself because I didn’t know what I was feeling,” he takes a few steps closer, standing at your bedpost, “I’d never felt this way about anyone. A-and you’re right, you are different. You’re so different from anybody else and I love it.”

You’re shaking your head, your back to him as you sniffle. 

“I don’t believe you,” you mutter, your arms wrapped around your middle as your head dips down, lashes wet with tears. 

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and you realize it’s because he’s moving to where you’re sitting, and you see him clearly as he crouches down on the ground, his hands moving to hold yours as he forces you to look at him. 

It’s such a strange sight seeing the Gojo Satoru, the Prince of Slytherin, the most stoic and composed person you’ve ever met so…vulnerable in front of you.

“I know-” 

You’re shaking your head at him, lips pouting together as you blink slowly, your nose scrunched up in frustration. 

“You’re lying-” 

“I’m not, I’m begging you, please-” 

“You’re lying, Gojo,” You say, your voice cracking as you feel your tears rolling down your, collecting on your chin before they splatter crudely on your bed sheets, “You don’t feel this way about me. You’re either lying to me o-or to yourself because…” you struggle to find the words, “Because in no world would you feel this way about me.” 

His hands are warm, his thumb gentle as it rubs over your knuckles. And you don’t notice it until he pulls them away to wipe at your tears, his fingers soft and slow against your skin as you hiccup.

“But I do,” he whispers, his thumb cradling your cheek, “I do. Y-you’re so smart, and kind, and witty, and caring, and you’re so wonderfully you.”

This is too much. 

“You don’t know anything about me,” you plead, wondering when he was going to give up the act and leave so you could be alone. 

“You only eat your eggs if there’s a little bit of syrup on them,” Gojo says immediately, and your eyes shoot up to his, “You put an extra flick on the dots of your i’s, you like McGonagall most out of all your other professors, you never change your necklace, you-” 

You push him by the shoulders, frustrated knowing that he’d never stop, changing the subject.

“If you cared about me you would’ve done something,” your voice isn't yours and you can’t recognize it as it escapes your windpipes, “I mean, you only had three years. Y-you called me a mudblood, your friends never stopped when they were doing, you - you,” deep inside, your breath is lodged inside your lungs and you choke on it. 

Gojo cradles your head, pulling you into his chest, and for some reason you let him. You melt into his warmth, into the way he holds you as if you were the thinnest piece of glass, and you can’t remember the last time somebody held you like this.

His hand rubs up and down your back, and you feel your tears and snot wet his sweater, but he doesn’t seem to care. 

“I did,” his own voice shakes, “I did, and I…” he swallows his bile, “I wish I could go back and take it back, take all of it back. If I could trade everything I have to turn back time and change the past, I would. I’ll spend my life making it up if you’d let me. You have no idea what I would do…” for you.

You pull away from him, and he lets you. 

“You’re all I’ve ever been able to think about this past year. And especially ever since that night, I couldn’t get you out of my mind,” his hands go up to hold your face, tracing your features with the most delicate touch, “Your eyes, your nose,” his finger glides down the slope of it, “Your lips, your skin, your hands.” 

“But,” your hands go up to his wrists, pulling them down and he lets you rest them on your lap, hanging off your every word as if you were religion, watching you preach as he remembers every word, every syllable, every tone and inflection you have as gospel, “I’m a muggle-born,” you laugh wetly and painfully, “And you hate muggle-borns.”

And for once you see him break into a small and melancholy smile that's full of years of longing, of confusion, of wanting, and his white strands fall on his face. Unconsciously you move them out of the way so that you could see his eyes. 

“My parents hate muggle-borns, and I’m their only son,” your eyes drop to that gold ring, and he notices, “I believed them, and for so long I felt so confused because you weren’t like anything they described,” his lips quivered, “I don’t hate muggle-borns, and I don’t hate you,” he raised your hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to them, “I could never hate you.”

You inhale shakily, your heart thumping in a strange, new rhythm. 

“What about the others?” You ask shakily, “Your friends, your parents, everybody else?” 

He shrugs, looking indifferent as he plays with your fingers. 

“I’ll get new friends,” he shoots you a small smile, “And I can just buy new parents.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes at his antics, and he brightens up seeing your change in demeanor. 

“You…like…me?” You ask finally. 

He lets out a little bit of air in a disbelieving chuckle. 

“I like you more than the air I need to breathe,” he kisses your knuckles again and you snort, rolling your eyes as you wipe at the corners of them. 

“Then how have you been breathing all this time without me?” You ask a bit teasingly, wondering how you never noticed that his eyes have little specks of green in them, or how the blush on his cheeks sometimes traveled up to his forehead. 

“Horribly,” he says and you give him a small laugh, “But it feels like I just took my first breath after eighteen years.” 

—

After that, Gojo could not be separated from your side. 

He sat next to you during all of your meals, throwing nasty jinxes at anybody who looked at the two of you weirdly. Sure, people couldn’t stop talking, but after the first three people who left with a red ink-looking stain on their face, they learned to keep their whispers low. 

When the two of you were in the common rooms he laid next to you as you read, or vice versa, pulling you into his chest as he told you stories from his childhood. 

And of course, it took you a while to warm up to him, but slowly and surely you felt at ease around him, feeling like you could be as true to yourself without any fear of repercussions because he loved you wholly, and he had no cares about anything else. 

“What’s that you’re reading?” He’d say sometimes, looking over your shoulders to scan whatever book it was that you were reading. Thankfully you still had a couple of days till Christmas, and another week of break after that, so the common room was empty, spare for a few stragglers. 

The fireplace crackled in the background, the smell of cinnamon and cloves heavy in the air. 

“Voyages with Vampire,” you reply, turning the page as you hear him groan next to you. 

“Lockhart? The fraud?”

You giggle, shoving him a little bit, eyes never leaving the page as you try not to lose your spot. 

“Yeah, but his books are interesting.” 

And Gojo didn’t care too much, because as you got to read your book he got to be with you, which was all he’s ever wanted since he was fourteen. 

Other days he’d take you to Hogsmeade, his hand holding onto yours, letting you steer him into the different shops you wanted to look at, a content smile on his face. He loved the way you looked, bundled up in your scarves and sweaters, and he loved that it was mainly just the two of you, seeing that Hogsmeade was unusually empty with everybody gone. 

And sometimes he’d squeeze your hands a couple of times just to let you know that he was there, and you’d squeeze back twice, looking behind your shoulder so that you wouldn’t miss his boyish grin. 

He mentally noted all the things you picked up, asking if you wanted it, but when you saw that he was beginning to pull out his wallet you shook your head sheepishly, putting it back as you began looking at other things. 

“Let me just get this-” 

“No!” you cried out, embarrassed as you moved away from whatever shelf it was, hearing him let out a sigh of frustration, laughing at his childish antics. 

“But I can just-” 

“No, Gojo,” you’d tell him, your voice a little sterner, “I don’t like you because you have money. Too much of it, might I add.” 

And he’d pout, his arms circling your waist as he petulantly stays in place, resting his chin on your shoulder so that you can’t move. 

“But I just so coincidentally seem to have it,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head as you tried to look at something else, trying to act like you didn’t turn to jelly in his hands, “Why won’t you take it?”

You giggled, angling your head to look back at him. 

“Because I don’t need a bursting raspberry delight,” you chided him and he’d groan, pulling you even closer to his chest as he outstretched one of his long arms, picking up something in front of you, inspecting it as he showed it to you, putting it back as you shook your head, “And I don’t need cockroach clusters.” 

And you smiled, feeling happy, genuinely happy as you continued to look around the store with Gojo latched onto you. You felt normal for once, felt the way you’ve been wanting to feel ever since you were eleven.

—

The days passed by and you found yourself back in the common rooms the night before Christmas, sitting on the couches, facing Gojo as you listened to him talk about all the things he’d been wanting to tell you.

The days passed by and you found yourself back in the common rooms with Gojo the night before Christmas, letting him play with your hair as you leaned up against him on the couch, reading another book. 

“Did I ever tell you how Benny Thompson didn’t know what an animagus was?” Gojo says randomly and you gasp, looking over your shoulder as he nods as you lay your book down on your chest. 

“You’re lying,” you say and he shakes his head, twisting and turning that ring on his hand the way he usually does when he likes to fidget. 

“And he asked me if the books in the library had all been written in the actual library,” he continues and you let out a loud, shocked laugh, holding your hand over your mouth in disbelief. 

You put your book on the table so that you could move up closer to him so that you wouldn’t have to crane your neck so much. 

“Well, to be fair, I think he was just a bit disgruntled to be moved away from his partner in crime,” you move some of the hair out of his face as helmets you sit on his lap, his hands resting comfortably on your waist as you lean in to whisper, “Seeing how I saw them hooking up in one of the broom closets.” 

Gojo’s lips part, eyes wide in shock as you nod slowly, a smug grin on your face.

“Makes sense,” he finally muttered and you snorted, thinking back to how the two boys literally couldn’t be away from each other for too long before they made a fuss about it. 

Most of the other students had gone up to their beds, excited for the early morning they’d be having with presents and such, but you liked staying up this night, liked watching as the presents slowly appeared under the tree.

His mouth opened in a small yawn and you moved slightly, feeling guilty for keeping him up so long. 

“Do you ‘wanna sleep?” You offered, twirling some of his white strands around your fingers as his eyes traced over your features. 

His hands moved up and down your back, holding you close to his body. 

“But the presents?” Gojo started, looking at the big Christmas tree near the fireplace as you giggled, noting how he was trying his best to control the yawns that were threatening to spill from his lips. 

“I’ll just look at them tomorrow,” you promise with a giggle, swinging your legs off from him as you stand, stretching your arms above your head as you let out a tired yawn of your own, rubbing at your eyes as you bookmark the page you were at, watching as he stands up, doing a little stretch of his own.

He slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him as he presses a kiss against your forehead, letting you lead the way back to the dormitories. 

“Promise to wake up early tomorrow?” You say, looking at him with a raised brow, watching as he crosses his hands across his heart. 

“Swear on it,” he assures you with a little cheeky grin, his shoulder playfully knocking yours as you snort. 

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, your eyes taking in all the festive decorations, not noticing how he couldn’t stop looking at you. The girl's dormitories were on the left, and down the hall, you’d find the boys, which meant that you were the first to depart as you neared the top of the stairs. 

You move to stand in front of your door, your book in your hands as you stare up at him, noticing the pink flush that never seemed to leave, all over his cheeks. He looked so pretty like this. 

“This is me,” you say jokingly and he chuckles softly, his hands back on your waist as you feel him press a gentle kiss to your forehead. He never pressured you to kiss him back, always leaving small yet thoughtful pecks either on the crown of your head or on your face, wherever he’d find that you didn’t squeal as he tried to kiss.

He says your name quietly, looking down at you as you meet him in the middle. 

“Merry Christmas Satoru,” you whisper, and you see the wide, boyish smile that breaks across his face when you say his name, loving it only when he hears it from your lips. 

“Merry Christmas sweetheart,” his voice quieter than usual, kinder, and in a lovesick way that not even amortentia could replicate.

You look up for a brief second when you sense something is off, and you giggle at the little green and white plant that is forming above your head.

“Mistletoe,” you mutter. 

“Hm?” He sounds confused until he looks up when he sees it growing, it’s green leaves and little white flowering buds, looking back down at you. 

And again, just like that night in October, you don’t know which one of you it was that moved closer to bridge the gap, but either way, only seconds later did you feel him press his lips against yours, and you were gone.

He was gentler than the last time as if he was savoring your lips, your taste, the way you moved against him. Gojo wrapped an arm around you, tugging you to him, his other hand fumbling with the door handle as the two of you tumbled inside, his foot raising to kick it shut as you tangled your fingers in his hair. 

“S-satoru,” you whine, needing more of him, needing him in a way you’ve never felt, your eyes fluttering shot when he bites at your lips, his tongue prodding past your lips as you let him, your stomach fluttering delightfully, “More, need more,”

His eyes flicked open for a second, ensuring you were okay, and he grinned. 

His lips resumed their movements, sucking and yours, teeth nipping as your face became of a mess of spit, moaning slightly as he nudged your jaw up with his nose, your head tilting backward as you gave him more room on your neck. 

Mindlessly you reach for your wand in your back pocket, waving it near the direction of your door as you lock it and cast a muffliato charm, something you would thank yourself for greatly later.

Gojo was relentless as he pressed kisses and sucked harshly on your skin, needing to mark up what was his, needing people to see that you were his, and you could only whine as he left dark marks on your skin, soothing them with little pecks as he moved down. 

His scent was all-consuming, the way he held you made you go dizzy, and if only you knew that what you felt, he felt ten-fold more. Gojo was so crazy about you, that if you told him to jump from his broomstick he’d gladly do it.

“Is this,” he sighs, trying to catch some air, “This okay? Do you want me to stop?” 

And you quickly shake your head, muttering out no, no, as he chuckled darkly, moving your (his) sweater away from your shoulders so he could kiss down there too. 

Your hands, which had been wrapped around his neck, fell to his chest, pushing at his sweater as you wanted to paw at the skin, wanting to feel more of him, and you heard his breathing stutter, his lips pausing momentarily at the feeling of your hands on him. 

He says your name like a mantra like he’s been waiting his entire life to say it, and you catch his eyes once again like he’s asking for permission to continue, and you nod, smiling up at him as you let him.

Your fingers grasp at the hem of his sweater, tugging it upwards so that you could see his skin beneath, the muscles sitting nicely, a glimpse you sometimes saw when he was moving around too much, and your heart stumbled. 

He helped you, tugging it upwards and over his head as he discarded it somewhere on the floor, and for once you feel the air get knocked from your lungs. 

He’s built. Long, muscular shoulders, soft skin that shouldn’t be as daunting as it looked right now, but he wasn’t even focused on that, his nimble fingers running across your waist where your sweater had hitched upwards, and you just know that you need more of this. 

You’re not even thinking as you shed it off of you, joining him on the floor, and his eyes widen, swallowing thick as he sees what he only thought he’d be able to see in the back of his mind as he dreamed. 

You were stunning, and suddenly he thought back to the statues he saw in Italy when he traveled there as a child. He thought back to how those ladies looked, and how the sculptors must be twisting and turning in their graves when they could’ve had you as their muse. 

“Stopp,” you whine, embarrassed, your hands going up to cover your naked skin, but he gently pushes them down, kissing your collarbone, the skin above your breasts which were still hidden with your bra as he shakes his head. 

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, the words escaping him as if his mind is working faster than any other part of his body, “So beautiful.” 

He dips his head back down to kiss you, and a surprised sound escapes your lips, but you welcome it nonetheless, feeling entranced by him, by the fervor in his movements, as if he wouldn’t survive without this.

His hands worship you, slow and careful as they run against your naked skin walking you back so that your knees hit the back of your bed. 

“You’re pretty good-looking too,” you try for a joke but it falls short from your lips because it’s true. You’d read stories of Aphrodite and Persephone fighting over Adonis just because he was the most gorgeous man they met, and you were worried that if the gods were real you’d have to hide him away forever. 

He hums in the back of his throat, as if he didn’t believe you, and gingerly laid you down on your bed, his massive body looming over you as you smile, a gleeful smile on your face as you try to make sense of what your life was. 

“What’s so funny?” Gojo teased, pressing little butterfly kisses on your cheek, the tip of your nose, your chin, and you couldn’t stop smiling, feeling ticklish when he kissed your neck again, a light giggle falling from your lips that made his ears turn pink. 

“Nothing,” you said breathlessly, squealing when he bit the skin in the middle of your tits, swatting at his head as he grinned, pressing a soothing kiss to the spot. 

“No, it has to be something,” he argues, kissing down the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, never breaking eye contact with you as you swallow thickly, no longer laughing as you feel a heat growing in your stomach, “Is it funny when I kiss here?” He presses a kiss above your navel, “Or here?” He’s reaching the top of your jeans, pulling them down slightly to kiss your hip bone, “Or maybe here?” 

And you shake your head, want and desire in your eyes and he chuckles darkly, slowly unbuttoning your jeans as he slides them down your legs, his heart sputtering in his chest when he comes back up to see you all sprawled out for him. 

You feel self-conscious about your choice of undergarments, both old and nearly falling apart at the seams, not matching in any sense of the word, but Gojo doesn’t seem to care. He looks at you as if you’re a painting that’s suddenly come to life, and he doesn’t know how to handle that. 

You reach behind yourself to work at the old clasp of your bra, sliding it down your arms as you lie back down, looking sheepishly at him as you realize you’re far more exposed at the moment than he is. 

But Gojo seems to have gone to another world, not moving from where he was as his eyes don’t leave from your chest. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” You shout, trying to cover up your bare chest with your hands but he gently tugs your wrists away, his blue eyes wavering as he groans, getting closer to you before he glances up.

“Don’t hide from me then,” he’s pleading, beginning, “Please.” 

And you can’t, because the way he presses gentle kisses to your bare breasts is unlike anything you’ve felt before. You’re breathing hitches, and your head falls back to your pillows as his mouth closes over on your nipples, a moan ripping from your throat. 

“Oh,” you say, breathing shakily through your nose as his other hand goes to your other tit, his thumb flicking over your nipple as you feel yourself grow wetter down there, terrified that there’s going to be a pool when he looks. 

He sucks, bites, marking up this territory that only he’s going to see, his pink lips switching to your other one as you whine out loud, feeling lightheaded as he presses three kisses to your hard nipple, worshiping you like you were his deity. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he says with a mouthful of tit, pulling up from your chest as he kisses you briefly, kissing down your body one more time before he settles in between your legs, “And no man has been more willing to die than me.” 

You whine when his hot kisses trail up from your calf to your knees, wet as they glisten in the candlelight as if he was making his path visible up to where you were burning, needing for him to meet you. 

“You talk a l-lot,” you’re trying to sound steady but you can’t when he’s looking at you like that, but he just kisses the inside of your thigh for a second long, his nose nudging at your clothed cunt as you whine. 

You’ve only heard about the other girls talking about sex, feeling embarrassed as they acted out what the other guys did with them. They talked about how they threw them around on the bed or how they pushed their heads down into the pillows but they never mentioned anything about this.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, “I should stop.” 

And he doesn’t give you any warning as he presses a kiss to your clit through your underwear, your little gasp of surprise going straight to his dick. He hitches your legs on his shoulders, looping a finger around the waistband of your panties as he slides them down, a deep, guttural groan almost punched from his lungs at the sight of your glistening cunt. 

Fuck, he thought to himself, you actually were going to be the death of him with the way he still can’t properly breathe around you. 

“Perfect,” Gojo whispers, his head dipping down, “You’re perfect.” 

And before you can chide him again, he dives down, his tongue licking and sucking at your pussy lips, your back arching off of the bed as your fingers grasp onto his head for support, unknowingly pushing him even further into you. 

He’s fast, tasting you as he groans again, your saccharine essence bursting against his tongue, and he can’t control himself. It’s so messy and wet, and you can see your juice shining on his chin when you glance down briefly to look at him. 

“O-oh,” you stutter when he pushes a slender finger inside your walls, clenching down on him as his lips find your clit, suctioning at it as you whine for him to go fast, “Oh god,” 

He smiles against you, his finger slowly moving in and out, his lips kissing your clit, feeling the way you grew tight around him and didn’t stop. 

When he added his middle finger you felt like you were going to die, not knowing how you’d be able to handle all of him if this was just you losing yourself on his fingers, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care right now. 

His fingers are long and reach deep within you, something you’ve never felt before, but knowing that you’d surely die without it if he stopped.

“S-Satoru,” you’re mewling, and he thinks he could just cum with the way you’re saying his name, “Don’t stop, please, f-faster.” 

And he kisses your cunt to tell you that he hears you, his fingers positioning in and out of you, his tongue alternating from where his fingers were to going back up to your little bud, your eyes screwed shut as you feel that rope grow tighter and tighter in your stomach. 

His unoccupied hand travels up your stomach to toy with your breasts, flicking your nipples back and forth, the added sensation along with everything else causing you to nearly lose whatever sanity it was that you had left. 

Your toes curled, your fingers gripping onto his white strands even tighter, feeling bad for how hard you were pulling at him, but he urged you, loving that sting. 

“How do you feel?” He takes a break, his voice a little muffled, his fingers not stopping as you whine helplessly, “Everything okay?” 

And you can tell he’s just teasing you because when you push his head back down he goes willingly, acting as if you were his last meal on this earth and he just couldn’t wait for the sweet release of death. 

“Good,” you moan, “S-so good,” and your voice is egging him on, making him go faster and faster, your toes curling as he switches between his fingers and his mouth, doing something heavenly that you never knew you could experience. 

You’re growing tighter around him, your chest heaving as you feel something strange, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, coming. 

“W-wait, ‘Toru, I…” and you can’t stop it, your eyes going white as he doesn’t stop either, his fingers pistoning in and out of you with no remorse, “I don’t know…fuck…coming, I…” and you’re just babbling mindlessly now, your back almost off of the bed as something snaps and you’re gushing around his fingers. 

It’s euphoric, the feeling. You can’t breathe but somehow you can breathe better than you have in your life, your walls clenched around him like a vice, your thighs shaking as you cum around his fingers. 

You wailed out a hopeless moan, your hands covering your mouth as if that could silence you, fat tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling and you were trying to fill your lungs back up with air as his mouth never stopped sucking at your clit until he was sure your climax was over.

When you finally calmed down and sank back onto the bed, Gojo sat up from between your thighs, his hair messy, chin and lips soaked with his spit and your release, his eyes a bright cerulean blue. 

You watched as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, cleaning you off of him, moaning like a whore at the sight. He dipped back down, kissing you feverishly, letting you kiss yourself on him as you whine, feeling like a different person entirely. 

When he pulls away there’s a line of spit connecting your lips, and he’s never looked happier.

“Are you feeling good?” He’s rubbing soothing circles on your hips, “Want to stop?” 

You groan, swatting at his shoulders. 

“You’re too attentive,” you say, and he snorts, kissing in between your brows as he pecks your lips one last time, reaching down to unbutton his pants, and throw them somewhere along with the rest of your clothes. 

You watch in a love-sick haze as he tugs at his boxers, his fingers quick as he discards them too, and suddenly, the two of you are bare before each other. 

He is Adonis, you finally decide when you get to get a full look at him, there’s no question. 

His legs are just as toned as the rest of him, his thighs huge with pure muscle, something necessary to be quidditch captain as well as one of the best seekers Hogwarts has ever seen. The v-line that leads down to his…oh god. 

He’s huge, and while you haven’t been with any other guy, you can tell that he’s big. His dick sits hard and angry against his stomach, his pretty pink tip leaking with pre, curving slightly. Your mouth waters at the veins that start at his base, his white hairs trimmed, and go upwards. 

How would he fit in you? 

“Don’t worry,” Gojo assures you, as if reading your mind, “I’ll go slow. Tell me at any point if it hurts, okay?” 

And you nod, your mouth watering as he climbs atop of you, his hand near your head as he presses one final kiss to your hairline, wrapping your leg around his waist as his other hand goes down to finger his dick, plunging two fingers into your wet pussy, lubricating it in your wetness as he looks down at where the two of you met. 

“Ready?” He asks, and you can only whine, murmuring out a needy yes as he chuckles, your legs spreading open to accommodate him, and he lines his tip up with your entrance. 

You feel like the air that you had so tirelessly gulped back seconds ago was punched out of you at the feeling, and he stays true to his words, going as slow as humanly possible so that you could get used to his length. 

He pushes past you gently and carefully, your walls clenching around him, memorizing every vein he has, the curve of his dick, and you watch as his hips press into yours, the way his abs tense as he tries to go slow. 

It stings, but in the most delicious way possible. Your eyes dot with tears, but you need him to move, not knowing why he was taking so long.

Gojo balances himself above you, and you grow wetter and wetter the more he sinks into your warmth, your legs circling his waist to pull him in even closer, your arms tangling around his shoulder, into the hairs at his nape. 

“More,” you whisper, needing him unlike anything you’ve needed before, “M-more, ‘Toru, please,” 

His eyes look at you with slight apprehension. 

“Are you s-” 

“Yes,” you cut him off, your legs tightening around him as he groans, his dick pressing more into you, sinking into you completely until all of him was sheathed inside your cunt. 

You could feel him in your stomach with the way he was pressing up into you, feel the outline of his dick against your skin, and his head dipped down so that you couldn’t see his face anymore, his breathing stuttering as he tried to regain his composure, trying his best to not pull out and slam back into you. 

Gojo gives you a couple of seconds to grow used to him and tries to be as much of a gentleman as he can be, but with every other tick of that clock on the wall he thinks he’s going to go inside, not recognizing himself anymore. 

Your chest heaves, and you nod. 

“‘M ready,” you say finally, and his head draws back up to you, his brows furrowed together, trying to make sure that you weren’t just saying that for his sake, but you nod again, “I’m ready.” 

And god, he feels like he’s finally seen the light as he pulls out of you, nearly all of his dick from your snug cunt, your juices shining in the light, and he pushes himself back in, groaning out from deep inside his chest as you clench around him. 

He does it again, and again, and again, and before you know it he’s slamming his hips into yours. 

“Shit,” he moans, his voice deeper and lower in pitch, “F-fuck, you’re so tight, you have’ta,” he lets out whine when you clench around him, “You have to relax, please sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

His hands are leaving bruises on your hips from how hard he’s holding onto you, your moans mixing with his as your ankles dig deep into his back, your back arching so much that your tits were pressed up against his chest, gleaming with sweat. 

“Mhh, ‘Toru, oh my g-god,” you can’t even recognize your own voice, “S-so good, s’big ‘Toru,”

You watch as he drops a hand in between your two bodies, his fingers rubbing at your clit as your mouth opens in a silent scream, sweat dotting at your forehead as you bit your lip to keep in your debaucherous moans. 

He bites down on your shoulder, leaving yet another mark, his nose inhaling at the last remnants of your perfume, making sure he’d never forget a single thing about tonight. 

His fingers along with his dick are driving you to ruin, and you feel that same coil coming back, being pulled taunt deep within you far quicker than the first time. He’s relentless against your clit, kissing your tits gently as you cry out. 

“Shit, I…” you can barely breathe, his own groans and moans filling up the room, “I can’t, I feel like…!” 

“I know, I know,” he says, knowing what you’re meaning, what you’re feeling, because he’s not too far from his own release either, “Come on, let go, I’ve got you,” he muttered against your glistening skin, edging you on even more.

Your fingers tangle in his white strands once again, pulling him closer to you as your lips lock with his, the kiss messy and not even coherent but you don’t care because as his tongue mingles with yours, his hips never stopping and his fingers picking up pace, you moan out loud, lewd and wanting into his mouth as you come. 

This time is even more intense than the last time, and you can’t stop clenching around him, your cum coating his dick, making it even more wet as you spasm around him, your eyes seeing stars, feeling a loud thumping in your head and chest. 

It doesn’t help that he doesn’t stop either, your orgasm lasting even longer as he chases his own high, his head thrown back in an instant as he pulls out to finish on you, white spurts coating your heaving chest, painting you like his own portrait. 

“Fuck,” he sighs out, his white lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he looks at you, underneath him, covered in his cum, and feels something primal surge in his chest at the sight, like you’re his god and he’s finally in heaven.

Even after he pulls out you feel yourself pulsing around nothing, already missing him as you whine absentmindedly at the loss.

When you finally calm down, you crack your eyes open to see him sitting on his haunches, pushing back his sweat soaked hair away from his face as he shoots you own of his wide grins, your own face breaking into a smile as you throw and arm across face. 

You feel the bed dip, and peek out to see him walking away. 

“Where…?” You croak out, your voice hoarse, and he throws you a wink from over his shoulders, finding a clean towel in your little bin that you keep at the end of the room for when you and the rest of the girls need to shower.

He brings it over to you, grabbing his wand, casting a small aguamenti charm on it, only to get it slightly wet, as he comes back to where you were lying. 

You silently watch as he gingerly drags it across your body, cleaning you up between your legs, wincing at the way you inhaled sharply, still feeling raw, and kissing your stomach in an apologetic manner. He then dragged it across your chest, making sure he got everything, throwing the towel in the dirty bin as he climbed up to bed with you. 

“Thirsty?” He asks, and you nod meekly, graciously accepting the cup that he fills with the pitcher near your bed stand, gulping it all down as some of the water droplets fall on your chest, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you set it to the side, falling back in your bed 

The bed isn’t really meant for two people, especially one with his size, so you have to cuddle close together, but you don’t mind the way he pulls you closer to his chest, pulling the blanket above so that it rests on your naked body. 

“Good?” He asks simply, and you nod again, craning your neck to look up at him as you smile gleefully. 

“Good.” 

—

That morning, you were the first to wake. 

You blink slowly, sitting up, wiping at your eyes as your mouth opens in a loud yawn. 

You look over to Gojo next to you, his hands still strewn across your waist, his lips parting slightly as he sleeps gently. 

You don’t want to wake him up, not used to seeing him so at ease, but you remember that it’s Christmas morning, falling back down to your mattress as your fingers tap on his bicep, watching as he cracks one blue eye open. 

“Hmm?” He hums tiredly, annoyed that you had moved away from him, pulling you back to the furnace that was his chest. 

“You promised you’d wake up,” you say with a whine, giggling when his eyes snap open, never wanting to break a promise he makes to you, sitting up suddenly as he looks around the empty room. 

“I’m kidding,” you tease, “I don’t usually get much, come back to sleep.” 

Gojo yawns, rubbing his hands across his face, and gives you a knowing look. Your brows furrow together in confusion, tilting your head to the side. 

“What?” You ask, sitting up next to him as his thumb traces against your knuckles. 

“Nothing,” he kisses your forehead, your nose, your cheeks and then finally your lips, “It’s just that I think that the majority of presents under that tree are for you,” Gojo says with a grin, watching with a smile as your face breaks into the cutest grin, your eyes bright as you tug on his fingers. 

“Really?” you’re already getting out of bed, the smile on your face never ending as you tug on your jeans from the floor, “Really?” 

“Really,” he says, handing you your sweater as you pull that on mindlessly, your movements fast and hurried, excited for Christmas morning for the first time since you were a kid. 

“Oh, and,” he holds onto your wrist, stopping you momentarily as you try to pull on a sock over your feet, “I have something I wanted to give you…in private.” 

Your eyes squint together, trying to see if he was going to say a dirty joke or if he was actually serious. 

When he releases your wrist, he unfolds your hands, taking your ring finger as he slides a ring across it, something that he must’ve had hidden in his hand for a good second because you never saw him get anything. 

“What…?” You turn your hand around, only to see his gold ring, embellished with his family crest, shining back at you. 

“‘Toru, I…” You were shaking your head, going to take it off, but he stops you, his blue eyes shimmering a light sky color, creasing upwards as he gives you one of the smiles that he only reserves for you. 

“It’s yours,” he says, closing your fingers into a fist as he brings it up to his lips, kissing it softly, “And besides, it’s just a placeholder.” 

You let out a disbelieving chuckle, looking at the ring once again as you glance up at him. 

“Placeholder for what?” 

Gojo gives you another knowing look, as if you should know the answer to this question. 

“You’ll see,” he promises, and you laugh, helping him put on his own clothes, messing with his hair, pushing it back so that it wouldn’t be so messy. 

“You want to be my husband?” You say teasingly, walking to the door as you cast him a glance, “Because you should know that I need to get a stable job and house and everything before I even think of marrying. Are you sure you’ll want to wait that long? After all that time?” 

He pulls you in for a hug, kissing the crown of your head. 

“Even after all that time,” he murmurs against your hair, “Always.”

taglist: @satorusemepls, @mokonasenpaiposts, @kao-ri, @rinxgojo, @notsochillnerd, @astral-hydromancy, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaron, @tedbunny333, @13-09-01, @mynameislove1, @hyunsuks-beanie, @uziwork, @haychhans, @cccccccccccleo, @sweetteez, @mxdwomann, @sorcerersseestars, @tiramusuc0ffee, @sourairi, @luringfantasy, @gojoswife69420, @empathum, @luna-v-roiya, @r0ckst4rjk, @hyori2, @kaisenkalogathia, @kraytjustkrayt, @nobayashi-blog

[sugarcoated-lame]

Sometimes A Bride | Jake Seresin x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI

Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader

part two of Always A Bridesmaid

Synopsis: You’re having some pre-wedding jitters and there’s only one person you know can help calm you down.

or

You and Jake sneak off for a quickie before the two of you say ‘I do.’

WC: 11.5k (another long one oops)

warnings: a smidgen of angst?, anxiety, mentions of alcohol, smut, fingering, unprotected piv, slight overstimulation, i think jake calling reader a good girl deserves a warning, unspecified age gap (reader is in around mid-late 20s, jake is in early-mid 30s), once again jake being too damn charming for his own good, tonssss of disgustingly sweet tooth-rotting fluff, really sweet fluffy moments with big bro bradley, natasha being the best sister-in-law and maid of honor, jake still being an absolute menace, i'm literally the worst at coming up with titles for my fics, moodboard is not any indication of reader’s appearance

a/n: The very long-awaited (I’m sorry 🤍) sequel to Always a Bridesmaid. Thank you so much to everyone who’s stuck around and shown the first part so much love and support, and waited so patiently for this story! I love y’all 

beautiful dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍

〰・♡・〰 reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated! 〰・♡・〰

You love weddings. 

It's a fact you try to remind yourself of as you take a deep breath, taking in your reflection in the vast vanity mirror.

Hair styled to pristine perfection, professionally done makeup better than anything you’d ever be capable of doing yourself, in a gorgeous white dress that fits just right and makes you feel more beautiful than ever.  

You love weddings. You love the fancy clothes, all the chatter and the sweet scent of champagne flowing through the air at the reception, the contagious laughter and dancing.

But, most of all, you love getting to watch two people profess their love for each other and promise themselves to one another for the rest of their lives through beaming smiles and tears of joy. 

It’s been a little over three years since Bradley and Natasha said ‘I do’, and after meeting the love of your life at your big brother’s wedding, how could you not love them? 

Three years since that fateful night that you met Jake and both of your lives were changed forever, and the two of you have been pretty much inseparable ever since. Well, nearly ever since.

Initially, both you and Jake were scared by just how much you liked one another. 

After spending the night together at your brother’s wedding — and the morning after — you had feared that it was just that rose-colored haze of love in the air that comes along with weddings, and you wondered if that magical pixie dust was going to wear off eventually — and take your feelings with it. 

But it never did. 

Even at the beginning, back when Jake had tried to push down his feelings for you and said he couldn’t offer much more than no strings attached fun, ‘because I’m going to be away on deployments and dangerous missions all the time, and because you’re Bradshaw’s little sister.’ 

Because he ‘didn’t have time for anything serious’ – but really, because he was afraid of just how strongly he felt for you – even then, you were so drawn to him and Jake couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed spending time with you.

How he thought about you and that amazing night you’d spent together nearly every second of every day. 

From the moment he’d wake up in his boring, lonely apartment, to the hours spent in briefings or flying dangerous maneuvers in his F18, to the moment he’d go to sleep alone every night in his bed that all of a sudden seemed too big. 

And, what scared Jake the most was that it wasn’t just the sex – though, that was definitely a great part of it – that he yearned for. It was just you. 

You, with your bright eyes and your radiant smile, your melodic laugh and effervescent personality. You had quickly wormed your way into his heart and lit him up from the inside out. 

He no longer found himself wanting the mundane and meaningless hook-ups or one night stands that places like the Hard Deck had to offer, which had become routine for him since his time as a young pilot at Top Gun. 

You brought Jake’s world from dull grayscale to vibrant technicolor and he found that he just always wanted you around. 

He’d never felt that way about anyone before, and it terrified him.

You’d never wanted anyone so bad, and you were fearful that it wasn’t going to last. 

But, try as you might, the two of you just couldn’t seem to stay away from each other for long. 

Once Jake got his head out of his ass and he took you out on a few proper dates – which, naturally, ended in you fucking each other’s brains out a few more times – you both agreed to try to take things slow, because your feelings for each other were real and neither one of you wanted to mess things up. 

However, you quickly learned that there was no such thing as slow when it comes to you and Jake. Before you knew it, things between the two of you had become pretty serious, and you realized – much to your brother Bradley’s dismay, that the two of you share a very real connection. 

Through all of the ups and downs — triumphs and hardships, happy times and tears, the silly fights and even sillier make-ups that these past three years have brought the two of you. 

From going mad missing each other when Jake is away on deployments, up until his recent request for a more permanent position at Top Gun so he can be closer to home – closer to you –  you and Jake have stuck together through it all like super glue.

Three years of unconditional love and support, of growing and becoming better together, loving and living life with your best friend.

You’ve never been quite sure if you believe in the concept of soulmates, but if they do exist, you’re positive that Jake is yours.

And, you love weddings… so why are you currently freaking the fuck out, today of all days? Oh, right… because it’s your wedding day. 

You’re pretty sure that your vision is beginning to blur, your body growing a little dizzy as you watch the constant stream of people flitting all around you through the glass of the large vanity mirror.

Your bridesmaids chatter excitedly as they too work to finish getting ready, sipping from mimosas as they make their way into their dresses while Natasha – the best sister-in-law and best maid of honor you could ever ask for – helps to keep everyone focused and on schedule. 

She paces the room with her phone in hand, probably texting Bradley to make sure things are running smoothly in the groomsmens’ suite as well. 

There are at least three people at any given moment hovering around you like bees, fussing over your hair, doing last minute touch-ups on your makeup, and making sure there’s not a wrinkle in sight on the beautiful wedding gown of your dreams that you’re oh-so nervous for Jake to finally see. 

Not nervous because you’re worried he won’t like it – he’s told you plenty of times that he’d be more than happy to marry you if you were wearing a trash bag – but because this is your big day, the beginning of the rest of your lives together and you just want it to be perfect. 

After all the months of painstaking planning – from centerpieces to seating charts, the choosing the color of the napkins to the dinner menu and countless trials of cake flavors. From finding the perfect venue, to the best floral arrangements, and of course the dream wedding dress. 

After being so hyper-focused on this day for months, now that that day is actually here, you just need everything to be perfect.

Not even the two and a half mimosa’s you’ve had this morning have been enough to quell the stress currently coursing through your veins, and the buzz of the busy bridal suite is beginning to make your head spin. 

Between all of the running around you’ve done since waking up — way too early — this morning, the little bit of alcohol and all the commotion going on around you now, your face feels too hot, a tiny sheen of sweat beginning to shine through your makeup.

You can’t help but wonder if Jake is feeling this flustered right now too. Probably not, the man is cool and calm about just about everything; it’s one of the things you love about him.

As the makeup artist powders your nose for the fifth time in ten minutes in an attempt to tamper down the shine, you feel your resolve beginning to crack. You try to take in a deep breath to shake the nerves, but feel as though there’s not enough air in the room to fill your lungs and you find yourself feeling like you need to escape. 

As if she can sense your distress from all the way across the room, Natasha — ever the dutiful maid of honor — materializes behind you with a comforting hand on your shoulder, politely excusing the makeup artist and everyone else that’s currently milling around you, before meeting your gaze through the mirror with a gentle smile. 

Though, you know your sister-in-law too well and you can see the concern in her brown eyes.

“You okay?” When Natasha gives your shoulder a comforting squeeze, you close your eyes and heave out a deep sigh, grateful for a moment of calm. 

It’s in the same moment that you open your eyes and give her a nod and an unconvincing smile that there’s a knock on the bridal suite door just behind you, and you turn your head to find Bradley opening it a crack and peeking his head in. 

“Everyone decent?” Your older brother asks, meeting your eyes with a soft look and you swear you could cry.

Through all her running around to help make sure that your day is perfect, you’d seen Natasha on her phone and you figure that, always knowing just what you need, she must have texted Bradley – and that’s exactly what she did. 

Natasha had let her husband know that his sister was feeling some pre-wedding jitters and could use some reassurance that she knew you could only get from your big brother, and he immediately made his way from the groomsmens’ suite to come to your aid.

“Yeah, come on in!” Natasha calls out with one last squeeze to your shoulder before meeting Bradley at the door and greeting him with a quick kiss on his cheek.

She gently pushes him towards where you stand in front of the large mirror smoothing your hands over an invisible wrinkle on the flowy white skirt of your dress, before ushering the rest of your bridesmaids and everyone else to the other side of the large suite to put their finishing touches on their looks and give the two of you some privacy. 

You turn around to face Bradley, standing there in a classic black suit with a bow tie, and you could swear your brother gets a little misty-eyed as he takes in the sight of you in your lavish white dress, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mustached lips when he asks, “You okay, sis?”

You think about lying for a second and telling him that you’re just fine, but this is Bradley -– your big brother and self-appointed protector for all your life, even when you don’t always want or need him to be, and you know that he’d be able to see right through you.

Blowing out a small sigh, you carefully take a seat on the plush couch that sits in the nearest corner, making sure to arrange all the layers of fabric that surround your lower half in a way that they won’t become too wrinkled.

“Honestly… I’m kind of freaking out.” You tell your brother as he joins you on the sofa. Your voice is barely above a whisper, just loud enough that he’s able to hear due to his close proximity.

You’re looking down at where you nervously wring your hands in your lap when Bradley speaks. 

“Why? You’ve got nothing to worry about.” His words are matter-of-fact, but his voice is soft in that comforting, brotherly tone that’s only reserved for you.

“I- I don’t know.” You tell him with a light shake of your head. “I guess I’m just nervous?” 

The words come out as a question and your gaze lifts to meet Bradley’s before you continue on.

“You know, it’s such a big, important day that I’ve spent so long dreaming of and planning for and– that I’m going to remember for the rest of my life and I just…” your voice trails off as you realize you’re rambling, stopping to take a breath before you continue. 

 “I just love Jake so much and I… I just want everything to be perfect.”

Bradley takes in your frazzled expression, nodding in understanding. “You’re right, it is a big deal, and it’s totally normal to have some nerves.” 

The pensive look on his face shifts to one of what looks like amusement as he glances across the room to where his wife is chatting away with the rest of your bridesmaids, before leaning closer to whisper conspiratorially. 

“I was scared shitless when I married Nat.” 

Your eyes widen at Bradley’s confession, a small puff of laughter escaping your lips as you question him, “What? Really?”

“Yeah,” Your brother’s smile grows at the sight of your own, a quiet chuckle leaving him. “But, then I remembered that I was marrying my best friend and all of those nerves just sort of melted away.”

“Which is why you should believe me when I tell you–” Bradley reaches over to take your hands in his, his brown gaze warm as he speaks earnestly.

“It’s going to be perfect no matter what happens, because you and Jake will be together.”

Your lips can’t help but quirk up a bit at your older brother’s reassurance. “You really think so?”

“Yeah,” Bradley gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “In fact, I know so.”

“Because, I have never seen you happier than you have been these past few years since you’ve been with Jake.” That small smile never leaves his lips as he continues talking and your heart nearly melts in your chest at the sincerity of your big brother’s words. 

“It’s clear that the two of you love each other very much.”

You have to admit it’s a bit of a shock to hear those words from Bradley of all people – sure, things have gotten a lot better between your brother and your fiance over the years, but you’d still consider them frenemies at the best of times. 

You realize that you haven’t said anything in response, being too stunned to speak, when Bradley continues on with a knowing smirk on his face as he takes in your dumbfounded expression.

“Trust me, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the idea of you dating Jake in the beginning, but I see how much he cares about you. Above anything else.” 

You nod your head in agreement, but not without a laugh and a playful roll of your eyes. With your brother’s reassurance that everything would be okay so long as you and Jake are together, and the reminder of just how much your husband-to-be loves you, now you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face if you tried. “Yeah, he does.” 

Bradley takes in the lovesick smile on your face and tilts his head, raising a brow in question. “We feeling better now?”

“Yeah,” Feeling much more calm now, it’s your turn to squeeze Bradley’s hands, nodding happily at him before releasing them. “A lot better. Thank you.”

“Good.” Bradley stands, offering his hands to pull you up off the sofa as well, before pulling you into a hug. 

With a quiet instruction to ‘call me if you need me’, your brother releases you from his arms, venturing over to Natasha to place a small peck to his wife’s lips before making his way out the door and back to the groomsmens’ suite.

You really do feel a whole lot better, but all this talk about your fiancé and his love for you, and how truly, utterly happy he makes you, has you missing him. Yearning to be with him in this very moment, and you realize that the only thing that would really put your mind at ease is right now Jake himself. 

Jake’s head perks up as the door to the groomsmen’s suite opens for the second time in about fifteen minutes to reveal Bradley, adorning a tux matching that of all the other groomsmen. 

It’s still crazy for him to think about the fact that your brother, who was so adamant about you not seeing Jake all those years ago, would be one of the groomsmen at his and your wedding. 

“Where’d you disappear to, Rooster?” A relaxed smirk lifts up the corner of Jake’s lips as he fixes his tie in the mirror.  

“Just went to check on the bride-to-be.” Jake’s smile softens just a bit at the mention of you.

“You know, I never thought the two of you would last this long, so I had to check and see if my sister was ready to back out yet.” 

Bradley drops down onto the sofa next to Bob and Coyote, who are quietly snickering at his teasing of the groom. 

“Oh, ha-ha.” Jake’s smirk grows devilish at the joke, turning his sights on the mustached man ready to tease him right back. “Face it, Bradshaw. We’re gonna be brothers real soon.” 

Bradley only rolls his eyes goodnaturedly at his soon to be brother-in-law, a fact that Jake has made a point to remind him of, all the time, since the two of you got engaged a little over a year ago. 

“How is she, though?” Jake asks, and Bradley can hear the sincerity creeping into the blonde’s tone. 

“She’s good. Was just dealing with the usual pre-wedding nerves, but it’s all good now.” Bradley tells him honestly. 

Jake only nods in response, already retreating into his head, into his worry for you, causing your brother to speak up again.

“Jake, I promise, everything’s good.” Bradley reassures him with a small smile.

“Yeah… good.” Jake nods once more, making an attempt to paint the best smile he possibly can on his lips.

He’s not worried because he thinks that you might not want this, or him – he knows without a shadow of doubt just how vast your love for him is – but, because he knows how you get when you put your heart into something and that you’ll drive yourself crazy trying to get everything perfect.

Jake’s seen firsthand just how painstakingly you’ve worked to plan this wedding, all the months spent making sure that every little detail is just right. 

He knows that all of that time and stress, culminating to this one day, is likely weighing on your mind now that the day has finally come. 

And in this moment, Jake wants nothing more than to just be able to see you – to hold you and comfort you and let you know that everything is going to be just fine.

He knows the old superstition that the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the ceremony, but…

“Fuck it.”

The two words escape under Jake’s breath just before he’s shrugging on the jacket to his tux and quickly making his way to the door. 

“Where are you going, man?” Javy questions his best friend, drawing the attention of the rest of the Daggers — sans Phoenix who’s with you getting ready in the bridal suite — toward where Jake stands in the now open doorway, one hand on the knob and one foot already out in the hall. 

“Just gotta check something with the wedding planner. Be right back.” 

It’s not a total lie. Sure, you had forgone hiring a wedding planner and chose to do everything yourself — with the help of Natasha and Penny of course -— but that technically made you the wedding planner. The guys don’t have to know that.

Jake traverses the winding halls of the venue, the anticipation of seeing you building up as he walks briskly in his dress shoes until he finds a door with a paper sign that reads, ‘Bridal Suite’ in loopy, cursive lettering.

Taking a breath, he knocks on the door, and he’s lucky to find that a moment later, it’s you who answers.

“What-” Your eyes widen in surprise and you’re hardly able to get a word out as one of Jake’s hands grasps yours, swiftly pulling you out of the door and into the hallway with him. 

You don’t get a chance to finish your question, because within seconds your fiancé is practically sprinting down the long hallway, pulling you along with him with his large hand wrapped around your smaller one. 

You can't help but giggle at Jake���s antics as the two of you run through the halls, watching his free hand reach for a few knobs along the way only to find them locked, finally stopping when he finds a door that seems to be open. 

He quickly peers into the room just to make sure that it’s empty before gently pulling you into the dark space, lit only by the natural light that shines in through the windows, and closing the door. 

You're still laughing breathlessly when you find your words again, Jake’s own breathy chuckle mixing with yours in the quiet of the room.

“Wha— Jake? What are you doing, you’re not supposed to see me in my dress before the ceremony!”

“Screw that, my girl needed me.” His warm hand is still in yours, his free hand moving to clasp your other one. That emerald gaze that you’ve come to know so well bores into you as he smiles down at you lovingly.

Your eyes lift to meet Jake’s and it’s like any and all nerves just melt away.

You always feel safe when Jake is near and just the sight of him now, being in his presence, has a toothy grin making its way onto your face.

Another giggle escapes you, trailing off into a content sigh as you look up at the gorgeous man in front of you.

The two of you just gaze into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and with a light shake of your head, your grin becomes coy. 

“Hi.” You find yourself whispering into the quiet of the room.

Jake lets out a chuckle, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling up in the way that you love when smiles at you. “Hi.”

Without letting go of your hands, Jake takes a step back to really take you in for the first time since breaking you out of the bridal suite just a few minutes ago. 

Finally getting a good look at you in your wedding dress that beautifully accentuates the shape of your body, your makeup done to perfection — though Jake doesn’t think you ever need it — and hair styled prettily but still flowing and free just the way he likes, renders your soon-to-be husband practically speechless. 

All he can say is, “Wow…”

You can hear the pure awe in that one word and can’t help but smile bashfully, heat rising in your cheeks. Jake’s compliments still manage to make you flustered, even after all this time. 

“Wow, yourself.” Your gaze sweeps up and down the length of his body, taking in the crisp black tuxedo and matching bow tie, and the white dress shirt underneath. Appreciating the way it fits him just right, how you’re still able to tell just how toned his body is even under the layers of clothing.

Jake’s hands tenderly squeeze your own, pulling you a little bit closer once again as his eyes search out your own. “You doing okay, honey?”

And though you were definitely feeling anxious before, you couldn’t be more content than you are now when it’s just the two of you, standing here holding hands with the love of your life.

“Yes,” You nod gently. “I’m just a little nervous.”

You look down at your joined hands before quietly continuing. “I just want this day to be perfect.”

“Hey,” Jake lightly swings your joined hands to get you to look up at him again, and when you do, you see that he’s still wearing that confident smile. “It’s going to be perfect because it’s all coming from you. And everything you do is perfect in my eyes.”

You have to bite back your giggle at his sentiment, in disbelief that this sweet man is soon going to be your husband.

“It’s going to be perfect because it’s us. Together.” You correct him with a playful grin. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jake’s hands leave yours, wrapping warmly around your shoulders to pull you in for a hug. Nestled in his embrace, your own arms wrap around his middle, your head moving to lean on his chest, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne as he leans his head on top of yours. “Together.”

The two of you stand like that for a few moments, wrapped snugly in each other’s warmth, Jake beginning to sway you just lightly as you breathe each other in.

It’s with your cheek pressed against his pec that you finally take a look around the room the two of you are standing in, realizing that it’s another suite similar to the one you had been getting ready in earlier.

“You know,” You lift your head from Jake’s chest to look up at him as you speak, a playful tone filling your words. “This feels oddly familiar to the night we met.”

“Sneaking off to a dark, empty room,” You continue with a growing smirk, arms unlatching from around Jake’s waist and pulling back just a touch, his own arms falling from around your shoulders. “Just the two of us.”

Your hands slide gently up Jake’s torso over the fabric of his suit jacket, up past his broad shoulders to rest at the back of his neck. 

Jake’s gaze leaves you for just a moment to glance at the space around you. An airy laugh leaving his lips as his hands reach for your hips over the soft fabric of your dress to pull you a little bit closer, his green eyes falling back onto you. 

Faces just inches away from one another, the two of you share matching silly grins as you think back to the night of your brother’s wedding. A look of pure love and adoration passing between your eyes and his as you both absorb the fact that you’re here, three years later, at your own wedding. 

“Yeah, we’re just missing the champagne.” 

Jake softly brushes his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering shut as he leans in to connect his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. 

Tasting the remnants of the sweet mimosa on your lips, he hums against them before pulling back just slightly. “But it seems like you’ve already got that covered, Sweets.” 

The familiar nickname paints his favorite smile on your lips that has Jake diving back in for another kiss, this one deeper as his tongue dips into your mouth to taste the lingering sweetness of champagne and orange juice on your tongue.

His large hands pull you in closer by the waist as your fingers find the short blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, a groan falling from Jake’s mouth and into yours as your fingernails gently scrape along his scalp.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly your body still responds to his touch after all this time; your knees going weak, and you’re practically melting into him as you feel wetness begin to pool in the skimpy, lacy white panties of your bridal lingerie that you’ve been dying to show Jake since you picked it all out a few months earlier.

The kiss quickly becomes more heated, lips slotting feverishly together as though one can only find much-needed oxygen within the other’s mouth, tongues swirling in a well-known dance and relishing in the familiar taste of one another. 

Jake’s hands are all over you, pulling your body flush against his as he sucks your bottom lip between the both of his. Your skin feels hot from his touch even through the fabric of your dress, and the realization of his quickly hardening length pressing against your hip has you mewling against him.

Jake pulls back from the kiss, his gaze still hungry, but you also catch the mirth in his eyes as he chuckles at his bride-to-be.

“Always so needy for me.” He slowly shakes his head with that classic, cocky Jake Seresin smirk that still makes you weak in the knees. 

“Me?!” You scoff, eyes wide as you look up at him incredulously, though you’re fighting back a smile because you know he’s right. 

“Well, I’d say someone is also pretty needy.” 

Your hand leaves the back of his neck to travel between your bodies to prove your point, reaching down to palm at his hard length through the fabric of his dress pants. Your brows raise in a playfully vindicated look that screams ‘I told you so’, as Jake lets out a groan at your touch. 

“Yeah, o-okay.” Jake’s chuckle is breathless this time as you cup your hand around him a little more firmly, grinning up at him and batting your lashes. “Always needy for you too, Sweets.” 

His hand wraps around your own to remove it from his bulge, already missing the friction as he brings your knuckles up to his lips in a sweet kiss before letting it go.

Before you even know what’s happening, both of Jake’s hands are reaching down to grip your thighs through all the layers of lace and tulle, a squeak emitting from your throat as he sweeps you off your feet and carries you over the nearest wall. 

“Jake! What are you-” Your arms circle around his shoulders, legs parting of their own volition to make room for him between them. Bracketing his hips as your back lightly hits the wall, the fabric of your dress all bunched between the two of you exposing your calves as he holds you in his strong grasp.

Large palms wrapped around the underside of your thighs, his weight pressed against your front and the wall at your back keep you upright as you giggle in your soon-to-be husband’s arms. 

Jake is beaming back at you, the adoration in his green eyes clear as they crinkle up due to his grin. 

“I love you, so much.” He lifts a hand up to your face, the backs of his fingers caressing along the soft skin of your cheek and Jake shakes his head as if he can’t believe that this is real, that you’re real. 

He leans in to press a soft, but dizzying kiss to your lips before murmuring against them, “I wanna show you how much.”

A part of you feels like you could cry at the sincerity in his voice, at just how well Jake loves you and how he’s never shy to make it known. 

But mostly, you just feel the white-hot pooling of arousal growing in your belly, your eyes glazing over with a look of both love and lust as you gaze back at him.

“Yeah?” You nod up at him in a daze, biting back a grin as you take in the hunger in those pretty green eyes. 

“Yeah.” He places a feather-light kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes you whimper and you can feel his smile against your skin. “Let me show you.” 

You nod your head again, mind in a haze of want at the feel of his warm breath on your skin, your hands squeezing at Jake’s broad shoulders. 

Feeling the velvety-soft fabric of his black suit jacket beneath your fingers, it’s only then that you’re shaken out of your stupor and you remember where you are – what today is.  

“Wait-wait, Jake, we can’t!” Your fingers continue to absentmindedly play with the fabric covering his shoulder. We’re supposed to be getting married like… now.” 

You can’t help but giggle at the predicament you’ve found yourselves in, though it’s very unsurprising for you and Jake. 

Jake’s laugh mingles with your own as you begin to lightly shake your head, and you feel his strong shoulders shrug beneath your grasp as you watch his lips quirk up into a mischievous grin. 

“All our guests–” Jake interrupts your words with another quick peck on your lips, laughing at your stunned expression. 

“The guests…can wait.” He states matter-of-factly. “Can’t exactly have a wedding without the bride and groom, now can they, Sweets?” 

Jake’s smile is smug and you can’t fight the one materializing on your own lips as you continue to shake your head. 

“Besides, would we really be us if we didn’t sneak off to have sex at a wedding?” He finishes off the question with a kiss to your jaw before trailing his lips down the column of your throat, lightly nipping at the skin of your neck – careful not to leave a mark – before soothing it with his tongue.

Jake was right. It had happened the night you first met at Bradley and Natasha’s wedding, and had become a tradition of sorts for the two of you at every wedding you’d been to in the three years since – and there have been quite a few.

You can feel your resolve quickly beginning to crumble as Jake presses his hips more firmly against yours, his hard length pressing up against where you need him most, the friction not nearly enough through all the layers of fancy clothing. You’re already soaking through your panties for him and you know you’re a goner.

You drop your head onto Jake’s shoulder with a sigh, before looking back up at him through your lashes. 

“Fine, but we have to be quick.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you give in, but with the most stern tone you can muster and it only makes Jake laugh. 

“Ain’t nothing slow about me, sweetheart.” You can’t stop the snort that escapes you, or the playful roll of your eyes at his words, leaning up to kiss that stupid grin off of Jake’s face. 

“Please, just– just shut up and fuck me already, Seresin.” you manage to get out through your giggles.

“With pleasure.” Jake’s lips claim yours in a hungry kiss and you feel one of his big hands venture underneath the skirt of your dress, traveling up your thigh and past the frilly fabric of your white garter in search of your core.

When his fingers brush against the damp lace of your panties, you choke out a gasp against his lips and Jake pulls back to take in your expression — your brows furrowed in pleasure and eyes heavily hooded with need. His kiss-swollen lips lift up into a smug smirk as he feels how wet you are for him. 

Jake’s deft fingers press more firmly against that wet spot, rubbing along your seam through the damp fabric. You can’t hold back your whine, already writhing against him as his thumb finds your clit, expertly circling it through the lace. 

“So wet and I’ve barely even touched you.” He breathes out a laugh and there’s a hint of smugness to his words — because of course there, it’s Jake — but you can also hear the awe present in his voice, see it in his emerald gaze that burns into you lovingly and it makes heat creep up your cheeks.

His hand dips beneath the waistband of your panties and you and Jake groan in unison as his fingers make a few quick circles around your wet, swollen clit. 

Your head falls back against the wall behind you and Jake takes the opportunity to kiss at your neck again as his hand dips down further to collect more of your wetness. 

“Already all ready for me, Sweets?” Jake’s words are whispered next to your ear as his fingers graze your entrance, your hips bucking toward them of their own volition.

“For you, ahh–” Your words are cut off by a shaky moan as Jake slides two long fingers inside of you, up to the knuckle in one swift motion. Your breath hitches and you’re practically melting against him, your voice already sounding wrecked as you whimper for him, “Always.”

Jake groans at how easily your slick walls envelop his fingers, gushing with new arousal as he fucks them in and out of your tight hole to get you ready for his cock -– not that you really need much prep with the way you’re already soaking his hand.  

“Such a good girl for me.”

Your walls clench tight around his digits, from both the praise and the way he curls them inside of you, that coil in your belly quickly winding up. 

“Fuck- Jake!” He can hear the desperation in your plea of his name, can feel it in the way your hips chase his fingers each time he pulls them almost all the way out. You’re already feeling so close, but you’re needy for more. Need to be full of him. 

Your perfectly manicured nails dig into Jake’s bicep, the heel of your foot pressing into his backside in an attempt to pull him closer as you gaze up at him through your lashes. “Please, baby– need you.”

“I got you, honey.” 

Your chin falls against your chest and you cry out as Jake scissors his fingers inside of you a few more times before they retreat completely, leaving you clenching around nothing and keening at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

The hand that was in your panties begins to trail slowly back down your thigh, and though you can’t see it through all the fabric of your skirt, you can feel the trail of slick it leaves along your skin in its wake. 

As Jake clutches your thigh in his firm grasp to hold you more securely against the wall, his other hand moves to the tent in his tight trousers where his throbbing length has been neglected.

How he’s able to hold you up with one arm while the other hand unfastens his dress pants is beyond you, but it’s moments like this that you’re grateful to have a big, strong naval aviator for a husband-to-be. 

Jake pushes his suit pants and underwear down just far enough to finally release his cock and you can’t help but moan at the sight of it. Long and looking almost painfully hard, the tip red and angry and weeping with precum. 

Jake lets out a groan as he wraps a fist around his length, relishing in the friction as his hand moves along the shaft and works to spread the pearls of his arousal from his tip down to the base. 

His hand then leaves his cock to push up the skirt of your dress as far as it can go. 

Deft fingers pry the seat of your panties from where they stick to your slick-soaked core, and gingerly move the fabric to the side so he can access your dripping cunt before he grabs ahold of himself again.

Jake lines his tip up to your entrance and pushes in slowly, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that pushes the air out of your lungs, stealing your breath and leaving you dizzy with it as his tongue tangles with yours. 

Your hands glide up the soft, expensive fabric on Jake’s arms, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as you gasp and writhe against him. Relishing in the feeling of him all over you. 

His lips covering your own, short breaths mixing with yours as you both pant and moan into the frantic kiss. His strong body, solid as the wall behind you as his front presses taut against you to hold you up, his long cock pushing deep inside of you with every single thrust and leaving you feeling so unbelievably full of him.

Jake pulls back from the kiss and looks down to where the two of you are connected. His length glistening with your arousal as it moves in and out of your tight walls, your beautiful, intricate wedding gown all bunched around your hips as he fucks you, and he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him when he thinks about how crazy this is.

“Wha-what’s so funny?” You ask breathlessly through kiss-swollen lips, your eyes that had previously been shut tight in bliss now opening to search out his green ones. 

“Just— this,” Jake’s gaze lifts to meet your eye as he continues to laugh, unsure if his brain is going fuzzy with pleasure, or if that’s just the intoxication of being with you. 

“My beautiful, perfect bride,” his hips slow just a touch, pressing forward in a particularly hard thrust that has you gasping and clutching onto his shoulders tighter, you and Jake moaning in unison before he continues, panting through his words.

“All a mess for me — fuck– right before we’re supposed to say ‘I do’ in front of all our family and friends– and pretty much everyone we know.”

Your eyes widen, lips tugging up into a bashful smile and you can’t help but giggle along with him, burying your head in his shoulder and speaking into the soft fabric of his jacket as he continues to fuck you.

“Oh god… well, I’m sure there’ll be some time to steam the dress again before I have to walk down the aisle.” 

You can feel Jake’s laughter reverberate against your cheek just before he cups your chin, lifting your face back up to be level with his and beaming at you with that megawatt smile. “There's my wife!” 

You’re both still grinning when he pulls you in for another kiss. Teeth gnashing against one another’s, mingled laughter and moans coming out in breathy puffs against each other’s lips as his cock works inside of you, his hips still moving against yours at an even pace.

“This is crazy.” You can barely get the words out, still giggling between messy kisses. 

“Yeah,” Jake punctuates with another press of his lips on yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip and drawing out a quiet whimper as he pulls it back towards him and releases it before continuing. 

“It is crazy,” – Another kiss – “You make crazy, Sweets.”

With one more firm peck to your lips, you feel both of Jake’s hands wrap tighter under your thighs, rough fingers squeezing your ass as he hikes you up a bit higher against the wall, pressing impossibly closer to keep you firmly in place. 

The change of the angle combined with his thrusts accelerating in speed has you crying out loud as he ruts up into you, Jake’s lips moving to cover yours once again and muffle the sounds of your moans. 

You shudder against him as his tip prods against that spongy spot inside you that makes stars appear behind your closed lids with each and every thrust, and you feel that coil beginning to tighten again, the familiar heat rapidly licking at the base of your spine.

Jake knows you’re close when your nails begin to dig into his shoulders through the jacket of his tux as you gasp for air, your lips parting from his with a string of saliva still connecting them for a moment that makes him growl as your head lulls back to lean against the wall. Eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you quietly, breathlessly, cry out his name like a mantra.

Your body is sandwiched tightly between Jake’s and the wall as his length fills you, hips pinned to yours and barely able to pull out on each thrust for how tightly your walls are clamping around him, the coarse but neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his cock deliciously grazing your clit and setting your whole body alight.

He's the only thing keeping you upright when your orgasm hits you. His mouth swallows your cries as your whole body goes taut, holding Jake in a vice grip as you fall apart on his cock. 

Jake can feel it as all of the tension leaves your body. He continues in slow, shallow thrusts, the quiet of the room only accentuating the salacious sounds of your release flooding around him as he works you through your high. 

He pulls back from the kiss as your moans begin to subside to get a look at your fucked out, blissful expression. 

Your eyes are still closed, lips parted and now devoid of any of the nude-pink lipstick shade you’d been wearing before, and your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat. 

Your chest rapidly rises and falls beneath the fitted white bodice of your wedding gown, accentuating your cleavage with each little pant as you try to catch your breath.

“So fucking pretty, honey,” Jake begins a light trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to your warm cheek, and up to your hairline where he whispers against the slightly damp skin. “My beautiful bride.”

Your hands scramble for purchase on his back, whimpering as you attempt to pull him in closer. 

“Jake- '' Your legs tighten around his hips, heels pressing against his backside where they’re crossed at the ankles, your desperate mewl mixing with Jake’s deeper grunt as the movement pushes him even deeper inside of you.  

“‘M so lucky to- to get to call you my husband,” Jake swears that his cocks swells just that little bit more at your loving words. “Cum for me. Wanna feel you.”

“Fuck.” The sweet praise whispered from your pretty lips sends him into a tailspin. 

You’ve barely come down from your high when Jake’s hips quicken their pace as he begins to chase his own release, the beginnings of overstimulation making you cry out a string of broken moans, incoherent whimpers of curses and his name. 

The fullness and the delightful drag of his cock through your tight walls making you clench around him harder, and the assault of his tip against your g-spot leaving you feeling boneless, your grip on his shoulders tightens like you’ll float away at any moment.

The way your velvety walls are squeezing him, your release soaking his length and the obscene sound it creates as he continues to fuck into you, have Jake right on the edge of his own high. 

His head falls to your shoulder where he grunts deeply into the crook of your neck. 

“So good, baby. So good for me.” He praises, peppering sweet kisses to your hot skin, a stark contrast to the harsh force of his hips pounding against yours as they begin to lose their rhythm. 

After a few more sloppy thrusts, Jake finishes inside you with a strangled groan. The familiar sensation of his cum filling your still-spasming walls pulls a contented sigh from your lips. 

Jake’s lips dot a trail of soft kisses along the heated skin of your shoulder and neck, then under your jaw before he lifts his face to be level with yours. Pressing his forehead against your own, the two of you stay there just breathing each other in as you catch your breath.

When the groomsmen realize just how much time has passed with still no sign of Jake, and with only minutes until the supposed start of the ceremony, Bradley is seeing red. 

For a moment, jumping to the worst conclusion — that Jake may be standing his little sister up on her wedding day — and he’s just about ready to murder the groom.

It’s only when Natasha knocks on the door to the groomsmens’ suite, looking frazzled as she asks him and the other Daggers if any of them have seen the bride, letting them know that you’ve gone missing as well, that Bradley and his wife both quickly come to the realization that the two of you must be together. 

So, Natasha and Bradley begin the hunt to find the soon-to-be newlyweds, the latter rolling his eyes before grumbling, “They’d better not be off somewhere fucking.”

Natasha only responds with a snicker because she knows that’s probably exactly what the two of you were doing. She offers her grumpy husband a sympathetic look and gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze before they split up to search through the maze that is the halls of your wedding venue. 

In no rush to move just yet, you and Jake just rest for a moment, foreheads pressed together, your body still sandwiched between his broad frame and the wall. His softening cock still inside of you, puffs of air warming each other’s lips as shallow pants become more steady breaths.

You know that you and Jake’s little er —detour— has almost definitely put things behind schedule for your big day, but in this moment you honestly couldn’t care less. 

When it’s just you and the love of your life, bodies intertwined and relishing in each other’s warmth, shared breaths becoming one, you can’t help but think that this day already couldn’t be more perfect.

You feel a flurry of excitement, your heart bursting at the thought that it’s always going to be like this. Solace in the fact that you’re Jake’s and he’s yours, that this is only the beginning of the rest of your lives together. 

He seems to share in the sentiment, pulling back to admire you for a moment before you feel his smile against your skin when he lightly presses his lips to your forehead. 

One of his hands reaches up to cradle your cheek, those green eyes are boring down into your own with that look of pure adoration once again as Jake moves to speak.

“God, I can’t wait to marry you,” His voice is breathy and full of awe–almost a laugh, eyes crinkling up at the corners in that way that you love as his smile begins to take up more of his face. “I’m so happy that you’re gonna be my wife.”

“Jake…” If you thought your heart was bursting before, you think it’s about ready to break free from your chest now, your eyes glistening with emotion as you lovingly look up at him through your lashes.

“You’re gonna make me cry and I don’t want to mess up my makeup any more than I probably already have,”

The two of you share a quiet laugh, smitten as ever as your hand makes its way up to cover his where it still rests on the side of your face. “But, to have you as my husband… I couldn’t be happier.”

Jake leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering against them. “Love you, Sweets.”

It’s only after you return his kiss and those three little words that have become as easy to you as breathing, that Jake finally pulls out of you and the two of you let out a simultaneous sigh. 

He reaches down to where the mix of his and your release begins to dribble out of your spent hole, a shattered moan falling from your parted lips as your head lulls back against the wall once more. 

Your legs begin to shake from the overstimulation as two of Jake’s long fingers push his cum back into you, expertly thrusting them in and out a few times before pulling them out again, and you find yourself grateful for the sturdy wall behind you when he purposefully brushes them against your oversensitive clit, leaving you breathless as he shifts your panties back into place to keep his cum inside. 

Your mind is cloudy of all things but Jake — his scent and his warmth and the feeling of his hands all over your skin, his pretty green eyes and his voice and his gorgeously cocky smirk — each one of your senses being invaded by him and you couldn’t be more content. 

And, you love knowing that underneath all the layers of fancy lace and tulle, right before the biggest moments of your lives, that you have his cum inside you.

Just as you part from one another, a knock on the door causes you to jump. 

You can hear Natasha out in the hall calling out your names and you and Jake share a look, wearing matching guilty smiles. 

However, it’s not long before his smile shifts into a more of a smirk, and you have to bite back a giggle as he rolls his green eyes playfully before leaning in to peck your cheek, pulling back to mouth the words ‘you good?’. 

With your grin and nod of confirmation, Jake leaves you with one more kiss, fastening the button on his pants and straightening out his dress shirt as he makes his way over to the door.

He pulls it open, still wearing that signature smirk on his face and Natasha glances up at him before she cautiously peeks her head in to see you too, hair smoothed out as much as you could manage on such short notice, the skirt of your wedding dress now back in place and hiding the fact that Jake’s cum is soaking through your underwear and beginning to drip down your thighs. 

“Thank god you’re clothed. I wasn’t looking to get scarred for life today.” Natasha breathes a sigh of relief and steps fully into the room. 

“You’re lucky you didn’t find us five minutes earlier.” Jake chuckles as you lightly smack his chest, that ever-cocky smile on his handsome face that you’ve come to love so very much over these last three years. 

You can’t help but snicker along with him when you catch sight of Natasha’s nose wrinkling in disgust. 

“Ok, ew… And you’re lucky I found you and not Bradley.” Natasha gives Jake a glare before clapping her hands in front of both of your faces. “Now come on, hurry the fuck up. The ceremony — your wedding ceremony — is about to start soon.”

You nod your head frantically, as if only just remembering where, and when, you are.

“Right, yeah! I just gotta go… clean up a bit.” you squeak out to your sister-in-law with a bashful grin before scurrying off the bathroom of the suite you’d snuck into. 

Natasha just gives Jake a deadpan look that conveys her slight disgust before leaving the room, making her way out into the hall to call Bradley and let the him know that she’s located the happy couple. 

After taking care of the mess between your legs and wiping off the smudged remnants of your lipstick in the bathroom mirror, you return to find Jake, who’s leaning up against the wall opposite the door, looking cool and calm and handsome as ever in his tux. 

Making your way over to him, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, letting out a little snort as your hands reach up to delicately fix his hair where it sticks out in a few places—no doubt from your tugging on it during your recent activities. 

Once Jake’s golden locks are back in a more presentable state, you smooth a hand down the nape of his neck, leaning up to attach your lips firmly to his. 

Jake groans into it as his mouth moves against yours with just as much fervor, his hands reaching blindly for your waist to pull you in closer, and the two of you share one last passionate kiss that you hope conveys both your love for him and your excitement to be marrying him — though Jake already knows. 

“Alright, Natasha’s going to kill me if I don’t get back in the next two minutes.” You pull away from his lush lips, reluctantly and breathlessly, wanting to live in this moment with him forever. 

Your arms unwrap themselves from behind Jake’s neck, but you don’t get very far when he reaches out to take one of your hands in his own, and you can tell he’s just as reluctant to end the moment too when he brings it up to his lips to kiss a trail from your knuckles to the tips of your fingers.

“Yeah, I’m not really looking forward to dealing with your brother either.” 

His words make you laugh in that sweet, boisterous way that he’s so ready to hear for the rest of his life and with that, Jake chuckles and lets you go, his hand still holding onto yours until you’re too far out of reach. 

Jake calls out your name just as you reach the door and you stop short, turning around to face him just as you pull it open. You stand in the threshold, brows raised, and look at him expectantly. 

“See ya out there, my beautiful bride.”

You’re surprised your cheeks don’t perpetually hurt from how much this man makes you smile.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, my dashing groom.” You leave him with a playful wink and that intoxicating smile, in a flash of flowing white fabric as you quickly retreat into the hallway. 

Jake chuckles to himself, moving over to the mirror to make sure he looks presentable, smoothing a hand over his hair and giving himself one last once-over before he makes his way back to his groomsmen. 

Trailing behind Natasha, you quickly make your way through the halls back to the bridal suite, giving her your most innocent smile when she peers back at you over her shoulder with a pointed look.

Your sister-in-law sends you a half-hearted scoff and a playful roll of her brown eyes, but you can see the smirk just beginning to grow at the corner of her lips before she turns and reaches out to open the door. 

“Come on.” Natasha half laughs, half groans, ushering you into the room.

Before you know it, you’ve got a plethora of people surrounding you once again — one giving your dress a very last minute steam to get rid of any wrinkles your activities with Jake a few minutes earlier had caused, others rushing around to touch up your hair and makeup and to finally pin up your veil. Although, this time around, you find that you’re unbothered. Feeling a lot more at ease, and you’re back in tip-top shape in record time. 

You’re practically vibrating in excitement and anticipation as Natasha and the rest of your bridal party shower you with hugs and their own squeals of excitement and encouragement before they make their way outside to the beautifully set up venue to get into their places for the ceremony. 

You give yourself one final once-over in the mirror, unable to curb the smile that grows at how beautiful you feel. 

It's only a few moments later when Bradley pokes his head in the door once more to ask if you’re ready. He takes in the giddy — and much more self-assured than earlier  —  smile on your face when you turn to him and nod your head excitedly. 

“Ya know, you can still back out of this if you wanted.” Your brother jokes, his tone teasing as his mustached lips form into a sly grin.

With a punch to your older brother’s shoulder, you pin Bradley with a pointed look and a sarcastic ‘ha ha’.

“Come on, I’m sure the Bronco would make a great getaway car!” He chuckles as your eyes widen in surprise.

“Bradley!” You move to punch his arm again, but he quickly ducks out of the way this time, and though your eyes are now narrowed at him in a feigned scowl, Bradley can tell that you’re not really angry with him by the way your lips are fighting back pulling up into a smile. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to hold my peace when that part comes up.” He raises his hands up in surrender and you can’t help but laugh along with Bradley’s joke, though not without a playful shake of your head and roll of your eyes. 

“You better!” Your big brother flinches as you lurch at him again, but this time, instead of hitting him, your fingers reach up to pinch his ear and it’s like the two of you are kids again; you giggling maniacally while Bradley — now a big, tough 6’1 fighter pilot — yelps in pain, arms flailing as he tries to get out of your grip.

He’d probably pull your hair like he did when you were kids too, if it wasn’t all styled to perfection with your beautiful sheer veil pinned to the crown of it, all ready for your big day. 

“I will, I will!” Bradley hisses through his teeth, chuckling as you release your hold on him to grab your bouquet that’s a beautiful mix of both yours and Jake’s favorite flowers, and then move to link your arm with his to begin the path down the hall. The path to the rest of your life and you couldn’t be more excited. 

As your brother guides you through the venue’s winding halls towards the doors to where the outdoor ceremony is being held, a gentle grin befalls your lips as you think about how you got here — and your big brother’s part in all of it. 

“You know… I know you told all the guys at your wedding to steer clear of me.” 

Bradley stops in his tracks at your divulgence, pulling you to a quick stop as well and nearly tripping you over your heels and the fabric of your long wedding gown.

“You wha- huh? You know?!” 

Admittedly, Bradley thought he was taking that secret to his grave.

“Yeah, I know.” You can’t help but giggle at your brother’s flustered expression. “Jake told me, a few months after we started dating.”

You’ve known for almost three years and you never said anything. Huh. 

Bradley stands there with his lips parted, but no words are coming out. He’s still in shock at the fact that you’re laughing about this. 

“So… you’re not mad?” He asks the question apprehensively, a grimace on his face as he awaits your answer. 

“No, I’m not mad.” You shake your head, still smiling as an airy laugh escapes you. 

“Well, maybe I was for like a second back then. But, I appreciate how much you want to protect me, Bradley. Even if it does make you an idiot sometimes.” 

You playfully roll your eyes and Bradley finally relaxes, shoulders dropping as he laughs along with you. 

“For what it’s worth, you and Jake actually aren’t a half-bad couple.” You playfully smack his chest in response to the — albeit sweet — jest. 

“Thank you.” You beam up at your brother, content knowing that that’s his way of letting you know he truly is happy for you and Jake. 

Bradley links his arm with yours again and continues leading you towards the doors. “I wish Mom and Dad could see how beautiful you look today. They’d be so proud.” 

“Oh, come on, Bradley! You’re gonna make me cry off my makeup!” You whisper-yell at him half jokingly as you finally reach the doors that will lead you out to the ceremony — to where you’ll very soon be married to the love of your life. 

“Me too.” Giving Bradley’s arm a gentle squeeze, the two of you share a smile, knowing that your parents will be there in spirit. And grateful for the fact that your uncle Mav who’s always been like a third parent to you will be there too. “Now, come on. Let’s go get me married!”

The wedding ceremony goes off without a hitch — albeit a little bit later than planned. 

When the music starts and Bradley walks you down the aisle, you’re surrounded by the smiling faces of friends and family. 

Although, your eyes are only on Jake — looking so unbelievably handsome in his tux and his wide smile and you can’t believe just how lucky you got — and his mossy green eyes are focused on only you. 

Both of your eyes shine with tears and it’s as if only the two of you exist in that moment when you meet him at the altar, the two of you happily joining hands with matching lovesick grins adorning your faces.

Though he’ll never admit it — and Natasha will never let him live it down — Bradley definitely shed a few tears himself as he listened to you and Jake exchange your vows. 

It’s been a long day of running around getting ready for the ceremony — and sneaking off for a quickie, of course — before marrying your soulmate in front of practically everyone you know, then taking countless family photos and enjoying a cocktail hour with your friends and family showering you and Jake in congratulations and well wishes. 

But, it’s all worth it because you’re finally able to call Jake your husband and you couldn’t be happier.

You’re both more than ready for the reception, ready to let loose and enjoy your time together as a newlyweded couple. 

After a nice dinner comes the best man and maid of honor speeches from Javy and Natasha, and a speech from Uncle Mav that includes a few embarrassing anecdotes about your childhood that have you giggling as you hide your face in Jake’s shoulder. 

Then it’s time for the newlyweds to make a toast before sharing your first dance to Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere, the first song you and Jake danced to on the night when you met three years ago at your brother’s wedding. 

The two of you hold each other close and sway along to the music without a care in the world, Jake dipping you towards the end of the song and claiming your lips in a long kiss that has the entire room cheering — although again, it’s as if you and Jake are the only two who exist in that moment.

When Jake pulls back from the kiss, one of his large palms is still cupping your cheek, fingers gently grazing your skin as his green eyes gaze down at you in adoration. 

“I can’t believe you’re my wife.” He lightly shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m never gonna stop saying that — my wife.”

You’re smiling against one another’s lips as you pull Jake down for another kiss, giggling when you mouth parts from his. 

“I love you so much, my husband.”

You can see that familiar look of both adoration and hunger beginning to overtake Jake’s features in response to your words as your first dance comes to an end.

After sharing what would traditionally be a father-daughter dance with Mav, he returns you into your husband’s loving arms as others begin to join in on the fun, the dance floor now filling up with your guests. 

Jake sees his opportunity to whisk you away from the dancefloor, using the commotion to make a sneaky getaway — again. 

You should be used to it by now — his large hand warmly encompassing yours and pulling you along with him — but you still can’t help the giggles that break free as you quicken your pace to match his as best as you can in your heels, sprinting until the two of you have disappeared from dancefloor, and soon from your wedding reception entirely.   

Out of the ballroom doors and into the empty hallway, the loud music and sounds of your guests having fun now a muffled to barely-there background noise, you find yourself alone with Jake. Your husband.

You pull on Jake’s hand to bring him to a stop in front of you, turning him around and pulling him in closer to you as you lean your back against the closed door, gazing up at him with a lip-bitten smile. 

“What are we doing?” You question through a breathless laugh, although you’re pretty sure you already know the answer. 

Jake’s broad frame crowds you in closer to the door and you find your breaths coming in quicker as he presses the front of his body up against yours.

Your eyes flutter shut as he leans down even closer, his nose gently brushing yours, lips just shy of touching your own. His breath fans against them and it sends a shiver down your spine, a jolt going straight to your core when he speaks.

“Well, we’ve gotta consummate our marriage, Sweets.” Jake whispers against you, his mouth just barely grazing your own. “And I’d like to consummate it as soon as possible.”

The evident hunger in his voice has you frantically nodding against him, eyes still squeezed shut when you feel his front press impossibly closer to you — and the growing bulge there. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, honey. Gonna consummate the shit out of you.” 

Jake’s whispered words, and their mirthy tone, have you bursting into a fit of giggles, your head falling back against the door behind you. His own laugh joins in with yours as you shake your head at his silliness. You love this man so much.

Your hands reach up to the sides of his neck to pull your husband down for a kiss, lips and teeth clashing as neither of you can break the smiles from your faces. 

“You’re such a dork, Seresin.” You whisper sweetly against Jake’s lips.

“Yeah, but you love it… Mrs. Seresin.” His large hands squeeze your hips, both the heat you feel on your skin through the lacy fabric of your dress and the name making you giddy.

“Well… lead the way, Mr. Seresin!” 

You’re unable to contain the massive smile that breaks out on your face as Jake presses one last kiss to your lips, before grabbing your hand and beginning to pull you along with him once more, and you don’t care where takes you as long as your hand gets to be intertwined with his for the rest of your lives. 

•

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Thank you for reading! x

taglist: @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @kmc1989 @onethirstyunicorn @avengersfan25 @fictionalmenloversblog @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @praline357 @girlsclub2004 @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @marvelogic @djs8891 @diorrfairy (pls let me know if you'd like to be removed 🤍)

tagging some others who might be interested: @hangmanssunnies @blue-aconite @sunlightmurdock @rhettabbotts @doreenwnsng @watchtowerindistress @dingochef @floydsglasses @lynnestra44 @ryebecca (i'm going to reblog and also tag all the rest of the people who reblogged part one! 🤍)

[rooksamoris]

💞 — 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒.

💞 — in which professor divus crewel is down bad for his spouse.

💞 — divus crewel x reader

💞 — warnings: none really, just fluff and ace and deuce being ace and deuce.

💞 — around 700 words!! not very long, but yk it came to me when i should have been writing my essay (due tomorrow) since that card came out. ive been hella offline, my cousin had a malwi (yemeni bridal party) yesterday, and the wedding is tomorrow, and my other cousin is in the process of having engagement parties all throughout july--hope you enjoy!

“No way you get bitches,” 

“What was that, Trappola?” Crewel shot a glare at his student who was staring at the picture on his desk.

The picture was of him and his spouse, looking very happy. He looked relaxed in the picture, his arm draped around you while you held his face in your hands and kissed his cheek. The best part was that you were dressed in one of his designs, looking ever so elegant in the fur shawl over your shoulders.

Ace stiffened up and was sent a concerned glance from Deuce, “Uhm, nothing… sir,” he quickly corrected himself.

He could not help it—all the time he spent in Professor Crewel’s class was filled with a certain strictness that he did not think anyone would find appealing. The redhead glanced at the picture again, before back at his professor.

Deuce was sweating, praying to whatever was in the sky that he would not get caught up in whatever trouble Ace would be in. He almost wanted to shake some sense in his dormmate.

Crewel drew the silence out, just for the sake of intimidating his students a little longer before his brows softened. He would not do anything further wreck his mood, not when the love of his life would come over and share lunch with him. He sighed, raising a red gloved hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I’ll let it slide this once, pup.”

The cyan-eyed student visibly slumped in relief.

He handed each of them their corrected worksheets. They both had detailed notes written in the margins on what they could do to improve. He pointed out how Ace could use his skills in Magic Analysis and apply them to Alchemy, and gave Deuce examples that could make more sense to him. He was a strict professor, but that did not mean he was a bad professor. He knew his rowdier dogs could improve—he expected them to. He laid out the resources, they just had to use them.

“Thank you, professor!” exclaimed Deuce, bowing his head in respect as he held the page to his chest. Deep down, he appreciated his professor's willingness to correct his work so thoroughly.

Ace nodded, as if sharing the thanks with Deuce, before following his classmate out.

Things stayed quiet before you burst through the doors, carrying lunch bags with you, wearing that smile he loved so much. Your clothes were a bit of a mess, but when were they not? You were always running about and doing something.

Crewel stood from his seat, a softer grin on his face as he stepped forward, his arms reaching out to adjust your outfit. Gentle hands tugged at the collar and fixed your mixed-up buttons, “Now, I wonder what circus you just returned from,”

You laughed and leaned into his touch, “Just the kitchen, nothing too crazy, Divus. I made raisin butter and homemade bread,” you told him, excitedly.

His thumb brushed over some flour left on your cheek, “I can see that much,” he muttered before he moved to your side and slid his hand down to the small of your back, “Come sit,” he said, guiding you to the seat across from his desk.

“You saved me from another lunch spent playing chess with Mozus,”

“Oh, come on. You act like spending time with him is a chore,” you replied, reaching into the bags to set the food on the desk for you guys to share.

He carefully moved his things out of the way, before taking his seat as elegantly as ever, “It’s only a chore when he spends thirty minutes deciding on his next move.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “One day you’ll be just as old and spending thirty minutes buttoning up your vest. When that happens, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”

He let out a little laugh at that. Your joke just affirmed what he always knew, you would be with him forever, even when white became the natural color of his hair, even once his students were visiting him as adults with their own lives, and thanking him for his harshness. He let out a breath of contentment, before carefully cutting the bread you made for him, “How was work, my love?”

[flippinpancakes64]

The Cullens with a reader that REALLY loves to nap/sleep?

This was on my list of ones to do so thank you! And I hope you like it!

Edward:

He got really concerned for a while

There was a period of time, before he started stalking you at night of course, where you would go hours without responding to his texts

He got so anxious one day that he just showed up at your window to make sure you were alright

And you were asleep

Pretty much every time after that if he wanted to know where you were he knew that's what you were doing

When you start dating and he can come and go more freely he'll cuddle up next to you and just watch (creepy)

But then it gets to a point where he gets a bit scared

You guys are out and about and you mention that you're tired and just want to go home and sleep

Or instead of watching a movie with him you'll just drift off

Genuinely asks Carlisle if this is normal

He needs reassurance from both you and Carlisle that this is normal and that sleeping is just fun <3

Alice:

Before you two start dating, when you guys are still just friends, she finds it odd that you won't hang out with her

Like wdym you don't want to spend a whole Saturday shopping

Also finds it odd that you don't want to text or call all the time

She just straight up asks you tho

Almost doesn't believe you when you say it's because you're napping/sleeping

"Okay yeah I toootally believe that you sleep from 7 pm to 4 pm"

But it's true

When she eventually makes her own Edward-style trip to your house in the middle of the day and sees you sleeping she has no choice but to believe it

When you guys start dating she gets a little more annoyed

Like come on you are her partner dammit why are you sleeping all day?

She makes the mistake of waking you up one day

That doesn't go too well

She doesn't do that again

She gets a bit huffy when you sleep all day but just make it up to her by letting her drag you wherever she wants one day and you're good to go

Jasper:

Your relationship is slow to build

You start off only seeing each other in school

Then talking a little bit

Then hanging out at school

Then talking a little bit after

Then hanging out a little bit after

So he doesn't really question anything when you don't talk to him most of the time

He just thinks you don't want to move on to being that close yet

But once you guys start dating, that's when he notices it

For a while he thinks it's just him because he's so used to Alice literally always being there and ready to talk to him

But when he goes over to your house for the first time to hang out and you just take a nap

He puts the dots together

He doesn't mind one bit

He's quiet after all

I feel like he would appreciate the peace since his house is never quiet

And not to mention that he can feel the tranquil and calm emotions radiating from you

You bet your ass he is cuddling with you

He just likes to lay there and close his eyes

Rosalie:

She was pretty quick to notice tbh

I feel like she's one to pick up technology pretty quick

So she's a texter

And she notices that you go dark at like 4 pm every day only to respond again sometime in the middle of the night then stop again

She gets a little annoyed

She thinks you're ignoring her

She gets petty for like, a week

Won't acknowledge you in the hallway or answer your texts

It's only when you basically have a breakdown in front of her that she tells you why

And then you have another breakdown explaining that you're literally just sleeping

So then she feels bad

Cue a week of apology gifts

After that though she starts coming over to nap

Sleep sesh

She brings over a book or a movie to watch while you sleep next to her

She loves it

Like Jasper she loves the tranquility

Emmett:

He'd also notice pretty quick that something's up

Like wdym you don't want to go throw rocks at cars or whatever he does for fun

He would just take it as you being a whimp tho

"You don't want to hang cause you're scared of *insert random thing* right?"

You give in one time and go do something with him and he notices like an hour in that you are yawning like crazy and walking super slow

You explain that this is your regularly scheduled nap time and then it makes sense to him

Unfortunately tho he's not one to just lay around

Something's gonna have to change

Maybe one day dedicated to doing what he wants and then the rest you can sleep as much as you want

Compromise :)

Esme:

Honestly she's down

When you first come over she thinks she's prepared for anything humans would need but then you start drifting off at like 4 and she's like "oh"

Instantly is putting you in a room and telling everyone to be quiet

Is a little concerned but also she thinks it's cute

And it makes her lowkey miss being human and being able to take naps too

LOVES laying with you tho

Will grab a book and lay there with you for hours

Chill queen

Carlisle:

He's concerned

He can't help it

He sees people come in multiple times a day every day with similar symptoms and rarely do any of them have nothing wrong

Once he has learned the extent of your sleeping, he takes you to do some testing

Not even an at-home consultation

You are going into the clinic no ifs, ands, or buts

When he finds that there's nothing wrong though, he'll ease up

Just a little

Is still super concerned though

Will check up on you every once in a while when you're sleeping

He likes spending time with you though

His favorite thing is if you take a nap on the couch in his office

He loves just having you there while he does paperwork for the clinic

Vampire! Bella:

She remembers naps all too well

And she misses them too

Even though she loves being a vampire she does miss getting to rest and disappear from the world for a couple of hours

She will never ever wake you up

Unless there's like an emergency or something

Loves to chill

Again, would be content just reading a book or drawing while you're sleeping

Would like to cuddle too

She likes the warmth and the comfort

Might even convince someone in the Cullen house to buy a nice bed for when you come over (if she doesn't already have one)

[kyra-cooneyx]

antisocial — a.putellas x reader

summary: your social battery runs out during a team bonding night

we back baby

after a long media day, you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day cuddled up in alexia’s arms once you got home. but just as you prepared yourself to face plant the sofa, the spaniard caught you effortlessly and the whine you let out was pitiful.

“lo siento amor but we have team bonding.” alexia whispered, laughing quietly when your body grew limp.

“do we really?”

“si,” alexia said, running her hand through your hair as you groaned. “it is not the end of the world you know?”

“sure feels like it.” you mumbled, forcing yourself out of her arms and into your bedroom to change into something comfier that just so happened to belong to your girlfriend.

you didn’t look any happier when you returned and alexia found the slight jut of your lip adorable. “a few hours cariño then we will leave.”

you relaxed a little at her words. you could survive a few hours. the drive to mapi and ingrid’s place seemed to take forever and you had a feeling that that was going to be the precedent for how the rest of the night was going to go. the moment ingrid swung open the front door, you winced at the noise. alexia gently tugged you in upon sensing your hesitation.

your feet dragged behind you and it was clear to alexia that your body was reacting to each little stimuli with the way it tensed and relaxed interchangeably.

when alexia made her way over to where mapi and frido sat with marta and caro, you forced yourself to head over to esmee, bruna, and jana.

you weren’t sure how they’d managed to convince ingrid to let them open up a mini nail salon in her living room but the question fell dry on your lips when esmee gently took your hands in hers.

“i think you should have this one.” jana said, handing esmee a powder blue coloured nail varnish and your face flushed when you realised that the dutch girl had asked you a question.

“uh yeah, that’s pretty, thanks jana.” you nodded slightly, offering both girls a smile.

alexia watched with a smile of her own as your shoulders sagged and you laughed softly at something jana had said. her shoulders relaxed too when you eased your way into whatever debate keira and lucy were having, something about the last england camp and whether keira had spent a little too much time with leah and not enough with georgia.

it was clear to your girlfriend that whatever negative feelings you had earlier had fizzled out and thankfully, you were starting to enjoy yourself. and your face lit up when mapi turned on the xbox, ona handing you a controller.

after a few games of fifa, you were forced to hand it over to frido and grumbled under your breath as you sank back into the sofa.

more of the girls joined in and with every one, you could feel yourself slipping into a more irritable state and you forced yourself to smile and laugh when you felt like you needed to.

alexia eventually found her seat next to you and was taken back at how quickly you moved onto her lap, curling into her.

your hands played with the strings on her hoodie, nose lightly nudging at the column of her throat. and since alexia was expecting this, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small fidget toy, one of the many you left scattered around your house.

you hummed in appreciation, taking it from her. she pressed a kiss to your head, also having both of your phones at hand in case you changed your mind about the toy.

at some point, the repetitive motion and the social exhaustion had you dozing off and when you woke up, ingrid was saying goodbye to the last of the girls. and as you lifted your head, you caught mapi’s eye and she smiled at you. you huffed in response, quickly hiding your face in alexia’s neck.

“gruñona.” mapi teased, digging her fingers into your side.

you squirmed, whining as you pushed her hand away, peeking out to glare at her.

“go wait with ingrid,” alexia whispered and your grip on her hoodie tightened. “i will be two minutes, i promise.”

your body felt heavy as you slowly lifted yourself off your girlfriend and it took everything in you to not fall straight back onto her.

with a soft sigh, you headed towards the front of the apartment where you knew the norwegian was, giving her the smallest of smiles.

“tired?” she asked and you nodded. “i can tell, you look it.”

if anyone else had said it, you would’ve lost your mind. but it was ingrid and you knew she meant no harm. that still didn’t stop you from going back to alexia and throwing your arms around her neck from behind.

“casa ara,” you whispered, whining when you got no response. “ale, please.”

“vale, vale.” alexia rolled her eyes fondly, quickly saying goodbye to mapi and ingrid before practically carrying you to the car.

the ride home seemed a lot quicker than before and the relaxation that flowed through your body once you’d gotten through the front door was magical.

you went straight to the bedroom, falling onto the bed without a care in the world and cuddling into the sheets.

it didn’t take long for alexia to join you but you were long gone by then, murmuring softly in your sleep as the blonde gently moved your body into a more comfortable position. your eyes fluttered open momentarily, a dreamy smile on your lips.

“te quiero mucho.”

[n0tamused]

Jiyaaaan request coming your way~

While training his soldiers, one of them accidentally calls him 'Dad'. This leads to the reader teasing them but Jiyan teases back by calling them 'Mom' (or the gender neutral for it?)

(Was reading tv tropes and Jiyan had the 'A Father to his Men' tropes in his character tab lol)

A/n: Anon this request was so sweet, thank you sm for sending it in! Jiyan the father of an army fr.. I do hope I executed it well. Enjoy!

Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, fluff and playful stuff, nothing more

The morning sun had long since shifted its axis towards the center of the sky, blazing down through cotton clouds that sailed the azure skies. Below them, in the open fields, west of the main base cacophony sounded, consisting of commands, groans and other sounds of effort as the Midnight Ranger performed their training. And today Jiyan had come to overlook the session himself, although it wouldn’t be the first time. He was often so preoccupied with tasks at the front lines that he didn’t have the time to be leading drills too frequently, but when he did get the chance to do so he would take it. While it wasn’t a full reprieve from the battle, it was still a stark contrast to the grotesque and twisted fates he’d see daily on the battlefield.

Jiyan was noticeably more disheveled by the end, hair messy and hanging in strands and clinging to his sweaty forehead, hands on his hips as his voice rose to meet all ears present. You have just been passing by, helping carry supplies that just came in, and loading old and empty boxes back to be refilled in the city. For once there was no rush that would make your legs ache or your lungs hurt, allowing you all the precious time to bask in the views, the soft chatter and, of course, your dear lover.

The sun caught his figure and formed a golden aura around him, his skin glistening, and you couldn’t help but take a seat at one of many big boxes at the side of the training grounds after you had finished your task. In passing you caught a few looks, and a few smiles of the soldiers you knew from before. They looked much  more lively, despite the rigorous training they just went through. It made your heart warm seeing them in better spirits, wishing nothing more than to see them prevail and be happy. And just as you had recognized a bunch of familiar faces did Jiyan conclude his small speech, about to dismiss everyone with advice of rest hanging on every word. He had spotted you from the start, when you were going by with supplies in arms and soon he’d have a chance to speak to you too, he thought.

“General Jiyan! General Jiyan, a word or two- if I may?” 

It was a voice of one of the new recruits, Jiyan noted as he gazed at the face of the youth, a boy of twenty or so years by the looks of it, and eyes full of curiosity and admiration. He had come up to Jiyan just as he had turned towards you, prompting him to stay rooted in his spot a little longer. A few more young rangers came up behind the recruit, sharing the same curiosity but also being aware of whatever the recruit had on his mind.

“Yes? Is there something you need?” Jiyan questioned, looking at the young man. From his peripheral vision he spotted you moving down from the boxes and joining his side, staying quiet after a short word of greeting towards his Rangers, but your presence felt like a cool breeze under this sun, and he appreciated it all the more.

“I just wanted to say how great today’s training session was, we learned so much more than we did with our drill sergeant” he praised, smiling up at Jiyan all the while, “And I just wanted to ask whether or not you’ll be leading our training session tomorrow as well? Or any other day that is, we would really benefit from your teaching. I mean, you've seen it all for yourself at the front lines!"

The other few with him nodded along, prompting a small smile of pride to form on your face from seeing their fascination with Jiyan. To them he was everything they aspired to be - strong, enduring, tough but not lacking kindness or knowledge. There were times where they were scared to approach him, not knowing how he’d react to their questions, but from observing his interactions with others they warmed up to the idea and plucked all their courage. 

A polite smile curled up on Jiyan’s face as he regarded the youth with gentle golden eyes. His presence as the drill sergeant today wasn’t due to his availability, but a simple coincidence and necessity to fill the shoes of their drill sergeant that had been injured due to Tacet Discords, and Jiyan just happened to be able to be there. “Ah, you have my thanks, rangers. If a replacement for your drill sergeant does not arrive tomorrow and I am not required to be at the front lines, then I will be leading your training tomorrow as well” he told them, which pleased them greatly to hear.  “Although I’m sure Sargent Jin’xi has much more to teach you, something much more important for your sound development in this profession. You cannot take his method lightly. He has seen everything I have, as well. His knowledge is as valuable to your growth, and even more so than mine. You need the good foundation he can give you” He was aware of how confusing or hard it could be to listen to Jin’xi, as the sergeant had quite the eye for details and slow progress in lessons due to his meticulous nature - but that also made him all the better for his station. He was observant and could pluck out bad behavior and mistakes like weeds, and that is better to be done here, than in the middle of battle.

“We know, general, but sergeant Jin’xi is just so hard on us.. sometimes it really seems like he has no limit” one of the women standing behind voiced, earning a look from Jiyan that spoke of his understanding but also his disagreement with the subtle message they were trying to send - please, replace sergeant Jin’xi, or, save us.

“Yeah! One time I accidentally mixed up the weapons in the storage room and he had me do everything on my own again, saying how such mistakes can’t happen on the front lines, how it all means life or death” the first young man said, brushing his fingers through his hair and sighing. “I understand it, but we just got here..” he added and looked at his comrades. 

What was supposed to be a short chit-chat turned swiftly into a gossip galore about Jin’xi. Had Jiyan been any different from the man he was currently, he would’ve scolded them, taken offense at how they spoke about his colleague, but he was in their shoes once, always on edge around the higher ups, and he wished not to bring that same unease to them. He didn’t fail to remind them to not speak like this in front of everyone, and to respect sergeant Jin’xi when he does eventually return, and they gave him their word.

The first young man that approached looked at Jiyan after their discussion, both hands on his hips and looking more relaxed. “We won’t forget that, I promise on my last name! Still, we appreciate your kindness, and one more thing dad- I MEAN- GENERAL!” His entire face crumbled into a look of terror, and all eyes of the group shot to him, looks of surprise and amusement appearing before several of them erupted into laughter after taking a wary glance at Jiyan - who was not offended.

“General Jiyan! Oh god- I apologize, general, I don’t know where that came from-” he stammered, shaking his head and his hands, face flushed from sheer embarrassment. More choked words tumbled out of his mouth, desperate to excuse himself and forget about this. 

Jiyan can’t help but chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching in a failed attempt to hold back his smile. “At ease, recruit. You have not done any crime” he nods at the other, his eyes softening and not showing any sign that he’s about to dish out some punishment - that’d be ridiculous. 

You can’t help but crack a laugh too, covering your lips with your hand as to stifle the sound, but your mirth was evident in your eyes. “Have I missed a chapter? I didn’t know you had kids, general Jiyan” you teased, earning a few shocked but heavily amused looks from the group. Giggles erupted once more, all stifled as they waited for Jiyan to respond to the quip.

Jiyan turns his head to look at you, his eyes boring into yours and questioning your intentions - you can read the thoughts going through your head and your smile only widens in a silent call to a challenge of wits. He didn’t expect you to say something like that, but he could only huff, hiding his amusement under an abrupt guise of confusion.

“Kids?.. Why, I had hoped you’d recognize your own kids, Miss (L/N)” he shot back instantly, making your jaw drop at his rebuttal, a gasp flying past your mouth. “General” you said, accusations plenty heard in your tone as the atmosphere melted into one of jest and play.

Many eyes flickered between you and him, taking in the easy way you conversed with one another.

“Yes? What’s the surprise for? The recruits look up to you too, if you fail to notice. You can confirm with them right now” he is shifting the spotlight to you, and the recruits are quick to jump in too. “It is right, miss. Personally I haven’t been around you for long, no longer than I interacted with the General, but you two are alike, you treat us new ones with a firm but kind hand” a young woman said, smiling at you, and you feel your heart climb into your throat. 

“Can we really be surprised, they’re always together too-” "Aren't they married?" Whispering is heard amidst the group, and Jiyan looks amidst the faces to catch the one that said that but fails to do so, or refuses to weed out the individuals, and his eyes go back to you to catch your response. It’d be a lie to say your relationship with him was a secret, everyone knew there was something deeper between the two of you, something you didn’t show in public due to the war and status, but it was undeniably there. Still, hearing it loud and clear like this was like a splash of cold water. Despite their chatter, the group remained respectful, sweet in their musings.

“Ah, quiet, I do not want to hear it. This is about you, General”

“Ah, don’t run from it now. You’re the one that started this” he commented, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. “Anyway, you’re all dismissed. I have a word with.. mother over here. Off you all go. I will see you all in the morning for another training drill. Get some rest” he speaks to the group, gazing upon their faces, only to see how they looked at him with some sort of childhood wonder, and that’s when he realized he must be flushed too. A sheepish smile bloomed on his face. 

“Alright! Awesome-” “Yes, sir!"

“Have a good day, General! And you too, Miss!” 

He watched them leave, bidding them all farewell, and when he turned to face you again he saw you pinching the bridge of your nose, hiding away the biggest smile of the day, the apples of your cheeks redder than before. The Midnight Rangers were undeniably close in connection, having spent so many nights and days huddled together for warmth or laughs or protection, and this small exchange only warmed Jiyan’s heart, to witness how positively they felt around him - and you. 

“Didn’t think we’d become parents so soon. Have we gotten that old already?” Jiyan commented, tone softer in a way he only addressed you when you were alone, and there was no one near the training grounds to hear you.

“Oh, shut up, Jiyan-” you playfully snapped, biting your lip as you looked up at him, stifling a giggle. “You are unbelievable!”

“Hm? Did you expect me to stay quiet today or ignore your quips?” he smiled bigger and you have to admire the little dimples in his cheeks as the smile reaches his eyes, making them squint at you softly.

“I don’t know what I expected, but your response was certainly the last thing I expected” you replied and shook your head, as if that would shake off the redness tinting your skin, imitating him now by crossing your arms. The two of you were looking at each other, wordlessly admiring your red faces while throwing these little quips at one another. 

“Ah.. you’ll get used to it, dearest wife”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch5. child's play

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 5/x

ᰔ words. 4.8k

a/n. helloo my ihm friends! long time no see. hope you're all doing well and thank you so much to everyone who sent me kind messages about the whole ihm gojo ex wife thing haha. i really appreciate it :) i feel more confident about my writing decisions now, and that's all thanks to you guys! anyways, i will be posting shorter chapters for ihm going forward, so sorry if some chapters have slightly abrupt endings or stuff like that. i guess my goal is to post shorter chapters but more frequently! we'll see how it works out. anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and see you at the bottom!!

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 (pending)

Ever since admitting your mother into hospice, things have been calmer inside your mind. After passing the initial wave of agony that came with no longer hearing her voice down the hall or seeing her silhouette in her bedroom as you walked past it, you realized that…a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. No longer setting alarms at the height of every other hour to remind your mother to take her medication, no longer viewing every interaction you had with her as some form of study you needed to jot down in a binder for her neurologist’s records, and no longer driving her to all of her chemotherapy appointments, only to leave them feeling like you purposefully just took your mother to a place where they sucked all the life out of her in exchange for the slim promise of giving it all back to her someday.

Maybe it was evident in the way your shoulders felt less tense as you rolled them back, tilting your neck to the side and no longer feeling the painful strain that tugs a wince onto your face. The other day, you caught yourself humming a song as you drove to work. Your skin, usually feeling cracked and dry from stress and exhaustion, now has a slight plumpness to it like before. A more youthful glow, like the version of yourself you were before your mother became sick. The version of you that so quickly deteriorated, and one you didn’t even know still existed somewhere within you. 

There has also been time for hobbies. Rarest of occasions, you find yourself sauteing some yellow and white peaches in a saucepan over medium heat in Gojo’s kitchen, humming that song once again that’s been stuck in your head. The sundress you’re wearing matches the pink of the syrup that pools at the bottom of the pan, and you feel like you’re living your cottage core dreams in this brief moment of reprieve you’ve allowed yourself to fall into.

The sound of slippers tapping down onto the hardwood floor startles you out of your gleeful trance, and you turn your neck to the right to see a pajama-clad messy-haired Gojo shuffling his feet across the open area into the kitchen with a dark black mug in his hand.

“Why aren’t you dressed??” you ask him in a panic.

“I’ll get dressed later,” he tells you dismissively as he grabs the glass pitcher of coffee from where the coffee machine was nestled up against one of the counter corners.

“You’re stressing me out. Your mom told us to be there in two hours,” you say, putting your hands on your hips in disapproval as you hear the sizzle of the peaches in the saucepan. 

He entirely ignores you, choosing to instead drag his gaze down the form of your body. “Woooow, twice this month I get to see you in a cute dress,” he comments, pouring coffee into his mug but his eyes are still on you, “lucky me.”

“Oh Shut. Up,” you sneer at him with a harsh roll of your eyes, “your fake flattery might work on the lonely middle-aged women you seduce to make a living, but it won’t work on me.”

His shoulders push back before he slumps them slightly, his brow lifting with confusion. “It’s not fake though? I mean it. You look really nice right now.”

You point an accusatory sugar-syrup coated wooden spatula at him. “You’ve just been conditioned by the patriarchy to get a boner at the sight of a woman in a kitchen.”

“What–...no–...why do you always have to say stuff like that whenever I compliment you? Can’t you just accept it?”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I refuse to be flattered by an insolent man like you.”

He sighs, setting his coffee mug down on the counter, and you watch the way the fringe of his hair hangs over his forehead as he gazes into the contents, swirling it around with a loose grip on the handle. “Is this how it’s going to be everyday? I try to be nice, and you–...well, you know, are you.”

“Well who else should I be?”

His eyes lift up to meet yours, the slightest of a cheeky grin on his face as his eyes wander down the form of you again. “I don’t know. Someone a little…softer? Like, you’ve got this really pretty dress on, and then you’re telling me off about patriarchy-induced boners. It’s a little, uh, contradictory?”

You gasp. “You’re trying to control me. I knew it. You are poisoned by the patriarchy.”

“What?”

Your eyes narrow at him. “You have this image of a perfect and cute little wife, who’s gonna wear pretty dresses all the time, and bake stuff in the kitchen, and get all blushy when you tell her she looks beautiful, and you expect her to have this soft little personality that never argues with you or disagrees with you…ALL BECAUSE OF THE PATRIARCHY!!!”

“...I–...Okay, you’ve lost me.”

You let out a hmph! noise. “Can’t even discern his own brainwashing. Sad.”

“All of this just because I tried to tell you that you look nice?”

“I know what your ulterior motives are, you creep.”

His eyes spark a little at that, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a cheeky grin as he sets the coffee mug down onto the marble counter and he straightens his spine. You blink, watching with confusion as he crosses the distance between the two of you, to where you’re taking a small few steps backwards until your lower back presses against the edge of the island countertop. He cages you into the surface with his frame, followed by the palms of his hands sliding over the marble on both sides of you, and you feel his forearms press against the curve of your waist as he traps you in with no way out.

“S-Satoru,” you stutter, looking up at him with wide eyes, “what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he says, his voice deeper with a nonchalance that has you shiver, his gaze dropping to your lips when you part them slightly.

“T-The patriar–” you squeak out, but he suddenly dips his head down to kiss you.

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes immediately closing when he moves his lips against yours, one of his strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer to him and your hesitation is something that only lasts a brief second before you find yourself kissing him back. Some noise leaves his throat, deep and raw and sounding pleasantly surprised as he captures your lips more fervidly now, his hands smoothing down to hold your hips and his teeth slightly nip at your bottom lip. 

You grab a fistful of his shirt, unsure of whether you want to pull him closer to you or push him away, but the moan that you mumble against his lips only makes his grip on your hips even stronger, fingers digging into the softness through the thin fabric of your dress. 

The oven suddenly starts beeping, startling you and you pull away from the kiss with a gasp, eyes rounded as you look up at him, but his are lidded and dilated as his gaze remains glued to your lips. 

With a heaving chest, you try to push him away by a weak fist to his sternum but he’s unrelenting.

“You taste sweet,” he says, like some comment he noted in his head but accidentally voiced out loud.

“I–...” you inhale sharply, “I just ate three macerated peaches.”

“Uh-huh,” he barely acknowledges before leaning in to get another taste, but you push him away harsher this time.

His hands let go of your hips entirely, finally breaking out of that kiss-induced trance he was in, but he still remains close to you in proximity, so much so to where you can feel the heat from his body. It’s comforting almost, radiating through the soft cotton of his long sleeve shirt, and you find yourself subconsciously leaning towards him before you snap out of it too, and rock your weight back against the island countertop.

You cross your arms over your chest, hoping the flush to your cheeks isn’t showing. “Oh okay so we just casually kiss now?”

He shoves his hands into his plaid pajama pant pockets, leaning away from you slightly. “For as long as I can get away with it, yeah.”

“You are breaking the rules.”

“You never said no kissing.”

“I said no touching.”

“Ehhh kissing isn’t really touching, though, is it?”

“You sound stupid.”

“I always sound stupid to you.”

The oven starts beeping again, and you realize it’s long been preheated to the setting you had placed earlier. You slip away from him with haste, feeling his gaze on you as you press a button on the oven to turn the alarm off, and you stare at the handle for a moment or two to calm the beating of your heart down. 

Your eyes catch sight of something on the side of the fridge. A little magnet made of rubber that has the word London on it as well as the design of the Westminster Cathedral with golden accents. You recall that Gojo went on a trip to London recently, and that he didn’t bring you back any souvenirs from there like he did for your other neighbors. And you want to pretend, you want to shove it down, that incessantly childish feeling that wonders why he didn’t bring you anything back. You want to continue to pretend like it doesn’t hurt your feelings. Something so miniscule and small. But you–...well, you can’t.

You spin around to face him. “Do you hate me?” you bluntly ask.

He blinks at you. “Huh?”

“Do you, what, I don’t know, think I’m annoying or something?”

He shrugs with his hands still in his pockets. “I mean, yeah, I do think you’re annoying sometimes. But in a silly way. Like we’re just pals horsin’ around, y’know?”

You snarl at him, putting your hands on your hips and narrowing your gaze until he’s hardly even visible anymore. “No. I actually find you annoying. Like, wanna-run-you-over-with-a-bus annoying. You just have horrendous social awareness and think that everyone loves you.”

“You actually don’t like me?” he asks, like he can’t even believe that someone wouldn’t.

“Yes,” you say, “now get out of my way.” You make an attempt to push past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder into him to assert dominance but he is unfortunately much bigger than you and so all it does is make you stumble ungracefully from the recoil.

He quickly grabs your arm to steady you, and you glare up at him before yanking yourself away and then step backwards until your back hits the fridge.

He studies your demeanor for a second before taking a deep inhale, and then lets it all go in a heaving sigh. “What do I have to do to get you to lighten up a bit?” he asks.

“You really want to know?” you sneer at him.

“Yes,” he says with a slight hint of frustration in his tone.

You cross your arms. “Pay for the fucking fence.”

He blinks at you, confusion replacing whatever frustration was previously decorating his tone. “What?”

“The fence,” you reiterate with a step forwards towards him, “the one I built six months ago. The one where you laughed in my face when I told you to help pay for it.”

He leans forward. “Yeah. Because I never wanted that fence built. Like I said, it fucked up the roots on my avocado tree. You should’ve asked me before building it. In fact, it’s illegal to build a fence without joint consent of both neighboring property owne–”

“Oh my god, okay, see? This is why I can’t stand you,” you snarl at him and make another move to get past him but he easily steps in front of you to keep you from going anywhere.

With a sigh, he relents. “Fine, I’ll pay for the fence.”

You try to keep the twitching muscles of your face still as you resolutely stare up at him, pressing your lips into a thin line. Through a strained tone, you say, “No. I don’t want you to pay for it anymore.”

He lifts a brow, utterly bewildered at this point. “Huh?”

“Now it just feels like pity. And I don’t want your pity money.”

“Two seconds ago, you did.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. That was two seconds ago.”

“So…let me get this straight, you don’t want me to pitch in?”

“No. I want you to have wanted to pitch in SIX MONTHS AGO.”

“Okay but what the fuck am I supposed to do about that now?”

“NOTHING!!!” you finally snap at him, the shrill to your voice startling him slightly to where you see his shoulders jump, and his eyes are now rounded blue as he looks at you. “There’s nothing you can do about it, there’s nothing you can do to get me to ‘lighten up’ or ‘act softer’ or whatever the fuck kind of damage control you aim to achieve with me due to your pestering incessant need to be liked by every fucking person you come across. So just deal with the fact that I hate you and let me do it in peace.”

He’s silent for what feels like a long time as he blinks at you, his bottom lip pushing up slightly in a way that suggests he’s almost impressed by your little outburst, then he takes a step forward, and in that one large stride, he’s closed any distance between the two of you. Your back is up against the frigid steel of the fridge, your heels tucked under the warm rubber at the foot of it, and you’re looking up at Gojo as he towers over you, his hands still annoyingly and relaxedly shoved into his pockets.

“Do you think it’s gonna be a problem that I think you’re kinda hot when you’re mad?” he asks you.

A small puff of air leaves your lips, like you just can’t believe the audacity, but also having him this close to you suddenly made it a little harder to breathe. “C–...Can you just be fucking serious for one second?”

His head dips down, the fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, tip of his nose slightly brushing against yours, but his gaze never falls to your lips. “You think I’m not being stupid fuckin’ serious when I say that you’re hot?”

“S–” your breath hitches in your throat, and his gaze finally falls to the lick you pass over your lips, “Satoru–”

Like God himself answered to your (cognitively dissonant) prayers, the bell rings, and Gojo leans himself away from you, straightening his spine so he can glance over his shoulder towards the door, a slight look of irritation on his face through the furrow of his brow.

You blink up at him. “A–...Are you expecting someone?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “No. Don’t think so.” He sighs before shuffling around the kitchen island and across the dining hall towards the entryway of the house, and you peer at the sight from across the hall.

When he opens the door, you see Sana standing outside, dressed in mom jeans and a t-shirt with her black Coach purse slung around her shoulder, arms crossed, and you barely register the fact that she looks pissed.

“Sana?” Gojo says, “what’s up.”

She entirely ignores him when she catches sight of you, pushing right past him and into the family room that you were currently finding solace in.

“You,” she points at you, storming right up to your personal space, “what the hell did you say to Juno when you were babysitting her?!”

“H-Huh??” you squeak out, taking a step backwards. “What are you talking about?”

“You told her to fight kids at school?!” she snarls at you, and your eyes widen.

“What?” you say, your face twisting with confusion, “I–...I never said that. I just said that she should stand up for herself if she needs to.”

Sana inhales deeply with rage, leaning back and jutting her hip out as she crosses her arms again. “Yeah, well, I had to pick her up early from school today because the principal called and told me she shoved a little girl on the playground during recess, and now she’s facing suspension.”

Gojo approaches suddenly from your periphery, standing in front of you as he faces Sana. You stand on your tiptoes to peer at her over his shoulder. “What? Why would Juno do something like that?

You hear Sana start to tap her foot impatiently against the hardwood floor, and then she turns her head away from Gojo as a slight hmph! noise leaves her throat. “The why is irrelevant.”

You poke your head out from behind Gojo and glare at her, but then Gojo turns around suddenly to look at you.

“y/n,” he says, “what’s going on?”

“I–” you start, glancing at Sana again who now has a solemn look on her face with pursed lips. You glance back at Gojo, who’s looking at you with confusion and anticipation. A heat spreads down your neck from the attention of the both of them on you, and you’re not sure what the smart thing to say is, so you figure you’ll just tell the truth as it is. “...I just didn’t want her getting bullied and thinking she can’t stick up for herself.”

At that, you see Gojo’s shoulders stiffen. “Bullied?” he repeats after you, then quickly turns towards Sana, “what does she mean, bullied? Juno’s getting bullied at school?”

Sana faces him full-on, raising a stern pointed finger between the two of them “No. Satoru. Stop. You always do this. This has nothing to do with you, so don’t even start. It’s not a big deal, let’s not make it one.”

“The fuck do you mean it’s not a big deal? She’s getting bullied at school, and you want her to just suck it up?” he asks, venom dripping from his tone. 

“It’s for her benefit!” Sana exclaims. “Jun and I have spent months trying to get her into this school! We don’t want her getting kicked out.”

“Y’know, I’m–” you stutter, “I’m gonna–...I’m just gonna go upstairs,” you say, “this seems like a family matter. I think you guys should probably just settle this on your ow–”

“No,” Gojo says, pointing to the couch that you were standing in front of, “sit down.”

You sit.

Gojo turns to face Sana again, and although you can’t see his face, you imagine he’s pissed off from the way Sana’s shoulders drop slightly and her sharp expression is cut into a more sheepish one.

“Who cares if Juno is suspended for sticking up for herself? It’s the teachers’ fault for not making sure she’s safe,” he says.

“Shoving other kids is not the solution.”

“Well if you fuck around, then you find out. Kids are too soft these days.”

“This is not the 90s, Satoru.”

You watch the back and forth between the two of them for the better part of an entire minute, feeling uneasy in the hostile environment of the room, but there’s a sense of underlying familiarity between the two, one that is recognizable amongst family. And you feel rather foreign, but then remember that, technically speaking, now that you’re married to Gojo, this is your family too.

Amongst the arguing of the adults, none of you noticed that Juno had gotten out of the car in the driveway and was now standing in the doorframe of the front entrance. She looks scared and guilty, fidgeting with her fingers in front of her, and you notice her scrapes and bruises that you tended to last week were now mostly healed. 

Gojo catches sight of her, and you see his shoulders relax. “Juno, c’mere.”

With the permission, she instantly runs towards him and into his arms from where he was crouched down to the floor in order to welcome her, and then she starts sobbing.

“I’m–hic,” she cries, “I’m so–hic–I’m so sowwyyy Uncle Toru…I’m–hic–I’m sorry mommyyyy.” 

You see Sana sigh and she makes a move to brush Juno’s tear-dampened hair out of her face when Gojo pulls her away from his shoulder by a delicate hold of her bony little shoulders.

“Juno. Listen. If people are being mean to you, then you do exactly as your auntie y/n said. You stand up for yourself. And if that doesn’t work, then you cuss at them and threaten to shove their faces into the dirt until they run away with their tails between their legs. Do you understand me?” Gojo tells her.

Sana gives you a pointed look.

“Oh, I–” you put your hands up in front of you, “I didn’t say any of that last part.”

“Do you understand me?” Gojo repeats again, and Juno nods her head slowly before she falls back into him and soaks his shirt with tears. “I’m soowwwwwyyyyyy.”

Gojo pats her back a few times to comfort her, and your heart breaks for the little girl. It’s bad enough to be bullied at school, but then to be reprimanded by your mother the one time you stand up for yourself…you can imagine how emotionally exhausting that would be for a five-year-old. 

Juno sniffles, rubbing her snot all over the cotton of Gojo’s shirt, and then pulls her face away to rub at her eye with a weakly closed fist. “I–hic–I just…I just wanted him to feel–hic–the same hurt.”

“Huh? Who?” Gojo asks.

“The boy,” Juno says, “the one that shoved me today.”

“It was a boy?!?!?!” Gojo yells. “Alright. That’s it. I’m grabbing my bat.”

“Satoru.” Sana deadpans.

Sana and Gojo continue to bicker about the ethics of threatening five-year-old boys with baseball bats, going back and forth about how Gojo wasn’t actually going to do anything but just wanted to instill fear (he’s lying), while Sana isn’t exactly sold on a single pacifist thing that he says, and you sigh, because you realize you’ve become invested in one of, what you feel like will become many, of their family quarrels.

Juno sneaks around Gojo’s legs and comes up to you while the arguing is taking place in the background, and she gently taps your knee as you’re seated on the couch. “Auntie y/n,” she whispers.

You rub an eye crustie from her face and then hold her hand in yours. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Mm? For what?”

She smiles at you, her cheeks pink and flush from crying but rounded now in glee. “My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.”

Your eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that, sweetheart?”

Why wouldn’t Sana and Jun be on normal talking terms? What does Juno mean that it’s been a long time? What exactly was going on at home?

“Juno,” Sana’s voice interrupts your thoughts, her arms crossed across her chest, “c’mon. Let’s go.” She points a stern finger at Gojo. “Seriously. I mean it. No baseball bats or rodent traps involved. I’ll talk to the teachers and sort something out.” She glances at you, that strict look on her face now dissolving into one of pure exhaustion. One you can imagine only a mother can face. “See you later at dinner, you two.”

Juno runs up to her mom and grabs onto her outreached hand, and you see Gojo ruffle her hair as she walks past him, her giggles ringing in the air, and then he sees them out the door. 

The air is awkward, at least to you, the second he closes the door, and when he turns around to face you, your body stiffens up.

He leans back onto the front door, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thanks,” he says, “for telling Juno to stick up for herself.”

You blink at him. “Well. I don’t feel too great about it at the moment, to be honest.”

He sighs. “I just think that Jun and Sana are raising her to be…kinda meek. I wish they’d teach her to be more confident and take up space.”

“Mhm,” you nod. Because you agree. Little girls need to learn how to be that way at a young age, because the world is seldom very kind to them.

“Well, what you said to her is what I would’ve said to her anyways,” he says.

You roll your eyes, standing up from the couch and heading back into the kitchen to presume your work on your peach cobbler. “I never told her to shove kids’ faces into the dirt. But, uh, sure, I guess so.”

You see Gojo enter the kitchen too in your periphery, but you don’t give him any glance or look or attention. From what you can see as you stir around your macerated peaches in a Pyrex bowl, he’s leaning against the island counter about three feet away from you, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he’s watching you. A slight warmth radiates in your cheeks, but you attempt to ignore the nerves by being hypnotized by the pink syrup that pools at the bottom of the bowl.

My mommy and daddy spoke a lot today at home for first time in long time because of me. Because I listen’ded to you. Thank you.

An unsettling feeling takes over your senses. It could be the past few years you’ve spent walking on eggshells around your mother, or the way you’ve become so keen to her energy as a way of staying on top of any shift in her symptoms, any single sign of disease progression, any clue that she wasn’t getting better. Any clue that she wasn’t doing okay. And you feel a sense of dread, because that skill, you realize, has now made you aware of similar circumstances in the people around you.

Not to mention, you are a child of divorce. You know what that fear feels like.

You just want to know if Juno feels safe at home.

“Hey, um…” you start, turning slightly to finally face Gojo, your eyes hesitantly flickering up to meet his gaze, “when was the last time you saw your brother-in-law? And with Sana?”

He raises a brow at you. “I just saw them last weekend for one of Juno’s dance recitals.”

“Ah…I see,” you say. You purse your lips together. 

Right. Kids say things all the time. They believe in Santa Claus and think that blueberry pancakes are called blubbery pancakes. And they sometimes read too into things, and they sometimes read too little. Surely, things must be okay. Maybe Sana and Jun had had a little argument with some stubbornly thawing cold shoulders, a demeanor that was noticed by their child, and now things have resumed to normal. That was normal. Part of every family. “That’s good to know…” 

You turn away from Gojo to stare back down into the bowl of macerated peaches again. With a furrowed brow, you close your eyes tightly to try to shake the chilly feeling in your bones, and you feel better when you open them again. The slightly numb sensation in your hand dissipates and you have enough dexterity to mix the peaches around in the bowl.

“I wonder what news they want to share with us over dinner,” you say, to quell the awkward silence.

“Hm?” Gojo hums, and you see him turn around face the counter now, hovering over the bowl of raw crumble topping you had mixed together, prodding at it with the wooden spoon. “Oh, they’re moving.”

Your head snaps to look at him. “W-What?”

“Yeah,” he nonchalantly affirms, scooping up a spoonful of the crumble. “They wanted to up-size, and move a little closer to the school that Juno’s at. I found them a nice place about an hour from here on the outskirts of the city. They just signed the papers a couple weeks ago.” And then he shoves the spoon into his mouth.

“Oh…wow,” you say. “Okay…”

“Damn,” Gojo says with surprise laced in his tone, "this is really good.” He’s staring into the bowl in awe and then scoops up some more crumble with a spoon.

You blink at him, irritated that he’s eating all your ingredients without even asking, and before you’ve even finished your dessert. It’s like he was born to piss you off.

You walk up to him and yank the bowl away, “Gimme that.” Then you pull it into the divot of your waist possessively and glare at him. 

He sighs, and then says something out loud that you’re sure he meant to keep in his head:

“I’ll get used to it.”

.

.

.

[end of chapter 5]

a/n. it feels so strange to post such a short chapter bahaha hopefully the ending isn't too abrupt. but hope you enjoyed! i'm so sorry ab the slow burn in this series aaa but i can try to assure you that it'll all be worth it hopefully lol i'm really excited for what i have planned for this series!! alsooo sorry if there are errors or anything, i'm trying to spend less time editing since it really stalls me n leads to writer's block lol. hope to see you in the next one :) much love! - ellie

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