#they’re like nah you can’t bag that

[vidalinav]

Cassian has Nesta’s picture in his wallet and you cannot tell me otherwise. In a modern au he has a picture. In something canon compliant, he has a tiny painting of her face that Feyre paints him or he gets from the HoW don’t care which, that he always has in his pocket because if he is going to die on any battlefield, her face is going to be the last thing he sees. It’s proof that he is loved and has loved beyond measure. Cassian considers it his lucky charm and he kisses it when Nesta’s not there, especially when he’s had a hard day and he can’t get to her quick enough. Also he’s always pulling it out and being like this is my mate ❤️

[hoshigray]

𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 9) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!

“Trick-or-treat!!”

“Gasp—Oh my goodness!” 

“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”

Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family. 

The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”

“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.

“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.” 

The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”

He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?” 

“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”

“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?” 

You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”

“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.” 

“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”

“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.

“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.

To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.

However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you  — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.  

Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s just say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.

Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about. 

There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.

“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner. 

“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.

“Why him?” They said in unison.

“Why not??” You question their irritation.

“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.

You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.” 

“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years. 

“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink. 

You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—

DING-DONG!!

Now.

Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”

You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.

Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo. 

One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow. 

But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?

“Ya awake now?”

You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone. 

It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?

You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“

“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.” 

You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”

“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”

“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.” 

“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.” 

You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”

“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”

And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”

“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”

Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”

Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.

“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.” 

“Still traumatized from that one time?” 

“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”

The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”

“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”

“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”

“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”

“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”

More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”

“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.” 

You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”

“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”

Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”

“Mmm.”

Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.

That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.

“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”

He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”

It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“

“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…

“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.

He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great. 

And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!

“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”

“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”

He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.

“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…” 

“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”

Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty. 

“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”

One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.

His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.

You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—

CLACK-CLINK!!

The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.

“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”

“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?” 

“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.

You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!” 

But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”

You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!” 

“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”

And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.” 

You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.

You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs. 

With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”

Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.

After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street. 

…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.

“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.  

“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”

“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.

“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your bottoms.

“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.

He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights. 

Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way. 

The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.” 

With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?

“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”

“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.

When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?

“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs—your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”

You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come. 

“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow. 

“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”

“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.

Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.

“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.” 

As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse. 

“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body. 

“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”

Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!” 

How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.

Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body. 

Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.

“Hmmm…You know I’m not done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.

“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”

“Yup, that’s what happened.” 

This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.

It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.

When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.

The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?” 

“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.” 

“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side. 

“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs. 

“Will do.”He whistles. 

“And Toji?”

The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point. 

And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”

You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing…right?

“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.” 

“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”

“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.” 

You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”

“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.” 

“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”

Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?” 

An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you. 

You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.

“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.

“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“

“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.

“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.

“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”

“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”

You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.

“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”

“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks fr' the food, mama.” 

Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired. 

Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”

“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. “And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”

You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!

[bluejutdae]

best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Chan x you

this will become a series, I’ll make a scenario like this for all the members. Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

genre: romance, friends to lovers

warnings: asshole guy who thinks sex is required in exchange of a dinner

“I’m sorry but I really have to go, it’s a family emergency. But I’ll call you.” This guy is really pissing you off, but he’s tall and pretty muscular and the vibes you got from him during the (luckily short) date make you uncomfortable.

“Are you really using this lazy excuse? I invited you to dinner, I’m gonna pay, so the least you could do is to put it out there!” You blink in disbelief, he really is a creepy guy. Chan is on his way though, so the thought comforts you a little. You reach into your bag and grab a few bills and, as you place them on the table, you give the guy a sarcastic smile. “I can pay for my own dinner.”

Grabbing your jacket you turn your back to him, ready to leave, but the asshole grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him. You don’t have the time to do anything because a hand is suddenly around the guy’s wrist like a vice.

“Let her go immediately or I’m going to break your arm.” You’ve never heard Chan talking with such ice in his voice and a shiver runs along your spine.

“Fuck you both. I should have known you were a frigid bitch!” the guy lets you go and raises his free hand in surrender. Before letting him go, Chan looks at you for the first time since his arrival. “Are you okay?” You nod, confused. You thought your crush for Chan was long gone, but if the butterflies in your stomach are any indication, your crush is alive and burning.

Not even 5 minutes later, in a cab with Chan sitting next to you, you catch the end of your best friend’s sentence: “…can’t believe that asshole!”

“You know what’s funny? He called me a ‘frigid bitch’. Isn’t that a bizarre insult? What does it even mean?” Now that you’re with Chan, you’re calm and not scared anymore.

You hear him laughing, shaking his head. “Like anything that came out of his mouth made any sense… but really, are you okay?” You nod again. You’re not scared, you’re not uncomfortable, but something in your chest trembles at the idea of parting with Chan. “Can you stay over tonight?”, you ask quietly.

When you close the door, the atmosphere is uncommonly quiet and tense. Did you make Chan uncomfortable? Did he have other plans? Is he annoyed with you for always needing him? As all those thoughts run across your head, he slips out of his shoes and goes straight to the kitchen, feeling at home in your small apartment. “Can I steal some ramen? I didn’t have the time to eat a proper dinner.” In lieu of an affirmative answer, you wash your hands and start preparing a quick dinner for Chan. “I’m sorry I hijacked your night, Channie.”

“What are you talking about? My plans involved ramen at the dorms and hearing Hyunjin and Jisung screaming against the tv. They started a new drama”, he explains watching you moving around the kitchen. He loves to look at you while you’re busy, while you’re too occupied with something else to notice him studying you, watching you with love in his eyes. Tonight was once again proof you only saw him as a friend and nothing more: otherwise you wouldn’t have gone on a date, right?

Wrong.

You spent ages crushing over him, but once you were sure he felt nothing for you, you tried (in vain, apparently) to get over him.

You place a steaming bowl of food in front of him and sit at the table, looking at him.

“No more lame dates. No, you know what? No more dates.”

“You let a couple of bad guys ruin your search for true love?”

Well, he’s not gonna complain, but he also doesn’t want a bad experience to scar your hopes for romance. “Nah, they’re not worth it. My perfect match is not interested in me anyway.”

Fuck, you shouldn’t have said something like that, now he’s gonna ask questions.

“Perfect march, uh?”

You wave your hand, almost slapping away the topic. “Eat your food, Chan.”

“I thought you told me everything,” he pouts and you’re a weak weak person, how can you be tough in front of his pout?

“There is someone I like, I liked him for a while but it’s unreciprocated, so there’s no point in talking about him.”

“Then he’s dumb. Tell me his name?”

“You kinda know him, so I’d rather not… you know, don’t wanna make it weird.” Chan looks at you with a weird something in his eyes you can’t really understand, but for the sake of your secret you let it slide.

“Movie?”

The movie has been on for at least an hour but neither of you is really watching it. You’re cuddled on the couch, Chan’s head on your lap and your fingers slowly playing with his hair. It’s one of his favorite cuddling positions, and you love it cause you have the chance to watch him without being noticed.

“I wish you’d tell me who he is.”

You freeze in surprise, fingers stilling on his head.

“Chan…”

“No wait, listen for a second.” He sits now, and bites his lip. “We’ve always told pretty much everything, but there are things I haven’t told you either. So I will tell you something secret about me if you tell me who he is.”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Because!”

He’s quick to get on his feet, walking on the small carpet in front of the tv. “Because I wanna know who’s this dumb guy who is not in love with you. What’s not to love? He’s lucky enough you are interested in him, something I’d give an arm for, and he’s not on his knees worshiping you?” He then freezes, like something hit him and trains his eyes on the floor. “Forget what I said”.

What did he say? Are you drunk and incapable of understanding or Chan just said he’d give an arm to have you interested in him? Something swells into your chest and you decide to be bold for once.

“Do you like me, Chan?”

He stills his pacing, gaze still trained to the floor, and nods carefully.

“It’s you.”

“Mh?”

“The guy I like, it’s you.”

He’s gonna have a sore neck tomorrow, considering the speed in which he raises his head.

“Me?” You nod, with a hopeful smile on your lips.

“I was convinced you felt nothing for me…”

You don’t know which one of you moved first, and it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you’re kissing, now. You have his wet, soft and pillowy lips on yours, his tongue asking to be let in your mouth, your hands holding the other tight, almost to make sure this is real and you’re not going to vanish any seconds now.

“We’re such a clichè” he says on your lips, laughing cutely.

“Maybe. But I like it anyway.”

If being a clichè is what brought you two finally together, then so be it.

[7ndipity]

Every Little Thing

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: When you overhear Yoongi talking about how clingy you’ve been lately, you decide to take a step back from your friendship to give him space. But your sudden absence goes far from unnoticed by him.

Word Count: 2k(wtf?!)

Warnings: angst, swearing, only partially proofread

A/N: Thanks so much to the lovely anon who requested this! This story, I... I don’t know what happened, I went from struggling to get it to work at all to getting waayy too carried away. I kinda had to stop myself at the end before it shifted into something else, but maybe if y’all want a part two, we can pick up from there?

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

As you got off the elevator, you couldn’t help the faint bounce in your step as you made your way to Yoongi’s studio, your bag slung over one shoulder, a grocery bag of snacks and drinks for the two of you to share.

Ever since you and Yoongi(and in turn, the rest of the members) had become friends, The Genius Lab had become a hideaway of sorts for you. Whenever you were feeling stressed or overwhelmed, you knew you could call Yoongi, and he would tell you to come over, letting you camp out on his couch while he worked, occasionally asking for your thoughts or opinions on a specific song or line.

As you neared his studio door, you noticed it was slightly ajar, allowing the voices from inside to slip out into the hall, quickly recognizing them as Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s.

“You wanna come to lunch with me and Hoseok?” Namjoon asked.

“Agh, I can’t, I told Y/n’s we could hang out today.” You heard Yoongi’s chair creak as he stretched, letting out a groan.

“Again? That’s like the third time this week, people are gonna start thinking you’re a couple or something at this rate.” Joon joked, making your cheeks flush lightly.

“Nah, it’s nothing like that,” Yoongi replied, sounding tired. “They’re just being clingier than usual, you know what they’re like.”

You frowned at his words. What did he mean by that?

“I know it’s just cause they’ve been stressed lately,” Yoongi continued. “But honestly, it’s gotten to the point where it’s weirder for them to not be here.”

Joon chuckled. “I’m surprised you don’t find that annoying.”

“I didn’t say that I don’t,” Yoongi said. “But it’s Y/n, so I let it slide. Anyway, on that track you showed me-”

You stepped back from the door, the sudden tightness in your chest making it slightly difficult to breathe as you quietly made your back down the hall to the elevators. As the metal doors closed, you replayed what you had overheard in your head.

Yoongi had always told you that he didn’t mind you hanging around, but maybe you had started to abuse that privilege, grown too dependent on him. Was that how he really felt about you? Had you become a nuisance? And if so, why hadn’t he said anything?

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you quickly found his number and hit the call icon, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat before he picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, are you almost here?” He answered, sounding much brighter than a few minutes ago.

“Uh, actually, I don’t think I can make it today.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, concerned.

No, one of my best friends hates me. “Yeah, everything’s fine, something just came up, sorry.” You bit your lip, managing to slip out of the building without running into any of the other members and making your way down the street to the bus stop.

“Okay.” He sounded unconvinced. “Is it anything I can help with, or-?”

“No, no it’s-, it’s a work thing.” You said, the words falling flat on your own ears. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright.” He said reluctantly. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You hung up, letting out a deep breath.

You could tell he hadn’t believed you, but you didn’t really care at the moment. If he wasn’t going to be honest with you, why should you be any different?

Suddenly presented with the afternoon to yourself, you decided to head to the park, wandering along the river as you thought over everything.

You and Yoongi had come here together not long after you had moved to the city, the last few blooms of the cherry blossom season clinging on stubbornly to their branches. He’d promised to bring you back the next year, so you could see them in their full glory at peak bloom.

Of course, life and work had gotten in the way, as they often did, and before either of you had realized, the season had nearly passed again before he could keep his word. You’d told him at the time that it didn’t matter, you’d just been happy to spend time with him, a recurring theme for you apparently…

Had you been a bother to him back then as well? You didn’t believe so, but the earlier sting of his words had left you questioning everything, even if you knew it might be an over-reaction.

It was dark by the time you made it home, flopping down on the sofa with a tired sigh as you contemplated your options.

So you’d been bugging him lately, that was an easily fixable problem, right? Just leave him alone for a bit, it was as simple as that, wasn’t it?

You weren’t so sure as your phone suddenly buzzed on the cushion next to you, drawing your attention to Yoongi’s name illuminated on the screen. You’d forgotten you said you’d call him.

‘Hadn’t heard from you, just wanted to make sure you’re okay?’ The text read.

Now who’s the clingy one? Was your immediate first thought.

‘I’m fine, just tired. Talk to you tomorrow.’ You typed shortly before turning off your phone and going to bed, with no intention of texting him the next day unless he did so first.

For the next week, you tried to keep up with your new normal; you didn’t go by the studio, you avoided texting him unless he did first, and generally avoided his invites to hangout with vague excuses.

One place you couldn’t avoid him though was dinner with the other members. It was a monthly tradition that you usually looked forward to, but as you stepped through the door of the restaurant, you only felt a wave of nervousness, for what though exactly you didn’t know.

“Y/n!” Tae quickly hopped to his feet to give you a hug, the others all greeting you enthusiastically. You noticed Yoongi didn’t speak, only nodding to you politely, but his eyes never left you for a second, seeming to study your every move.

“Y/n, do you want my seat? I know you usually prefer to sit by Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook asked, starting to get to his feet, but you quickly waved him to sit.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to move for me, I’m fine over here.” You said, settling in the free seat next to Jimin, which happened to be directly across the table from Yoongi.

Everyone quickly settled into their usual routines and conversations, the mix of voices blurring into an almost comforting buzz, allowing you to zone out for a moment and relax, but a single low voice managed to snap you back to attention.

“I haven’t seen you all week.” Yoongi said quietly, a noticeable heaviness in his voice.

“Yeah, things have just been kinda busy.” You tried to say convincingly, but it was hard to pull off under his gaze. Luckily, Jin asked you about something from the show you’d been watching and gave you an easy out of the conversation.

You managed to get through the evening well enough, talking with the others, even making plans with Jimin for him to help you pick out some new furniture for your apartment. You’d felt Yoongi’s eyes on you all evening, but hadn’t said anything.

It was later that night when you were pulled from sleep by the sound of someone knocking persistently on your front door.

Cautiously, you climbed out of bed and padded to the door.

Who’s there?” You called anxiously, trying to remember where you’d put your old baseball bat, in case you needed to defend yourself.

“It’s Yoongi.”

You froze, staring at the door in surprise for a second before going over and peering out the peephole.

Sure enough, he was standing on your doorstep, causing a brief sense of relief that was quickly replaced with confusion and the same nervousness from earlier.

Not quite knowing what else to do, you cracked the door open slowly, taking in his slightly disheveled state; hair mussed and faint bags under his eyes. He looked the same way as when he would pull all-nighters at the studio.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Why’ve you been avoiding me?” He responded with his own question, staring you down.

“I-, I haven’t-”

“Don’t lie.” He stopped you.

Glancing around quickly, you pulled him inside, not wanting to have this discussion in the hall.

“You’ve been dodging my texts and calls, you wouldn’t sit with me at dinner, you asked Jimin for help with furniture shopping, which you know he’s terrible at.” He continued as you closed the door. “So, tell me please, what has happened to make you start ditching me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that I was annoying you?” You snapped.

He stopped, staring at you in confusion. “What?”

“I heard you and Joon talking last week,” You said, his face falling as the memory came flooding back. “About how clingy I’ve been, and how I’ve been annoying you by hanging around so much.”

“You haven’t been-”

“Don’t.” It was your turn to cut him off. “Don’t try to tell me that it’s not true or you didn’t mean it. What I want to know is why you weren’t just honest with me?” You hated the way your voice started to shake as you spoke. “Why didn’t you just tell me to fuck off or something? Why do you put up with me if I'm such an annoyance?!”

“Because I fucking love you!” He blurted out.

You froze, staring at him in shock. “What?!”

“I-, I love you.” He said quietly.

“You love me?” You repeated, hurt and frustration still churning in your stomach, not letting you take his words to heart. “You love me, but you think I’m annoying?”

“I think everyone’s annoying!” He tossed his hands up in frustration. “The difference is that I like your annoyance!

“I like that you’re loud and weird and make terrible jokes, I like that you nag me to take better care of myself.” He said. “I like that you’re happy holed up in my studio with me. I like that you sing along to every song that you recognize, even without realizing that you’re doing it.”

He took a cautious step closer, pleading with his eyes as he spoke.

“I like every little annoying thing that you do, because they’re what make you you. I’m so sorry that I made you think anything otherwise.”

You hadn’t moved as he spoke, fighting the tremble in your lip as your eyes had misted over with tears.

“Y/n?” He asked anxiously.

You didn’t speak, choosing instead to lunge forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him in a bruising hug. He staggering back slightly at the force of the collision, arms immediately coming up to hold you in an equally tight embrace.

“I missed you.” You sniffled, burying your face in his chest.

“I missed you too.” He replied, holding you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “I’m also sorry for telling you I loved you in a shitty way.”

“Eh, it’s kinda on brand for us, honestly.” You teased, making him let out a huff of laughter.

“I guess you’re right, fuck.” He shook his head.

“You wanna try again?” You offered.

He pulled back to look at you. “Really?”

You nodded. “If you want to.”

He nodded, pulling away enough to take your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles as he pressed his lips together nervously, eyes shaking slightly as he met your gaze.

“I love you, Y/n.”

He’d barely gotten the last word out before your lips were on his, effectively shutting you both up for the next several minutes.

When you finally pulled back, his eyes were blown wide, lips swollen and red from your assault, his breaths coming out in shaky puffs.

“I love you too, by the way.” You said, grinning at his slightly dazed expression.

“Cool, c’mere.” He said, pulling you back in, making you giggle as he eagerly reconnected your mouths.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[monstersholygrail]

Okay for the birds. Since you asked so nicely. (And because I am on my knees BEGGING for crumbs of this!!!) How would they react to reader living in a run down apartment? Like it takes a lot of money to keep a studio going, even with such... passionate attendees. Yeah they spoil reader at the studio, but what about seeing reader out and about? At home, out shopping?

For Scarlet Macaw Bird Hybrids the colony keeps coming at you like they’re vultures. They’re greedy for your cum, needy for the tight clench of your fat cunt milking their cocks dry, desperate for your cries of pleasure and who can force them out of you, and they crave the feel of your pliable flesh in their loving hands as they take you over and over again.

They’ve all lost themselves in you, as if you’ve pulled a veil of lust over their eyes and they are nothing but mindless machines set for your pleasure. It’s all they want. To feel that deep connection with you, their precious mate.

One after the other they fuck you dumb, bringing you release after release. Even as your body grows more tired they can see the need in your eyes and they won’t stop until their mate is fully satisfied.

As your next orgasm crashes into you, your eyes roll back, your body no longer having the strength to fully seize and shudder with the sheer force of your pleasure.

Your mates currently taking care of you each unload a hefty amount of cum inside your gushing walls. It isn’t until they slip out of you to lightly peck kisses along your face that they realized they fucked you till you passed out.

All the bird hybrids coo at you in worry, their wings flapping as they surround your plush fucked out form. All limp and beautiful. Their hands lovingly caress every inch of your body, making sure you’re alright.

“I’ll take her to her human apartment. Make sure she gets there safe,” one of the bird hybrids speak up.

Instantly a chorus of over bird hybrids chirp out their disagreement. All of them wanting to be the one who takes you home and tucks you into bed. Anything just to be with you for a little bit longer and to take care of you. But the first bird hybrid stands his ground and insists.

Taking you into his arms he begins to fly you home. You had never shown any of the bird hybrids in the colony where you lived but a few started following you home after your night class with them and soon after everyone knew where you lived and would follow you to make sure you got home safe after that class.

Silly humans would call it stalking. But they were only looking after you! They made sure you never got hurt and hurt anyone who dared try.

You didn’t live in a very good neighborhood after all, putting most of your money into your studio, so they had to take care of you. Even if that meant scaring off anyone who looked at you funny or with any interest.

But none of the birds had ever been inside your apartment before. As the bird hybrid uses your key to enter, his eyes widen in horror at the sight of your run down apartment. Their mate could not live like this. Not under their watch.

After tucking you into bed, the bird hybrid gets out his phone and enters their colony group chat dedicated specifically to talking about you.

“OUR MATE IS LIVING IN SHAMBLES!” The bird hybrid texts into the chat to convey his panic. Seconds later and the group chat is blowing up.

“I knew we didn't pay ‘nough for her classes!"

"Should demand she raise them…"

"Do dance teachers get random bonuses?"

“Would she feel insulted if we gave her money at the end of classes after we’ve fucked her raw?”

“Not if she’s too blissed out to notice us slipping the money in her bag.”

“Nah, she wouldn’t like. I think the humans call it Pros— Pollution? Or Hook— something to do with fishing, I don’t know. It’s not a good idea.”

“That’s not the point! What are we going to do about this? We can’t allow this to continue,” the bird hybrid types, interrupting their rambling.

“Could always take her back to the nest…” one hybrid suggests. He thinks about it for a moment before he shakes his head.

“An idea for another day. She wouldn’t go for it now. We need to fix up her place until she’s ready.” The bird hybrid with you concludes.

As you sleep the bird hybrid plans for everything. He sends for a whole bunch of them to head over to your apartment. A team of them flying around and taking what they need to help fix up your apartment while another team prepares the place for work.

When everyone arrives at your apartment things quickly dissolve into chaos. Of course, all the Bird Hybrids want to see you first sleeping all pretty and fucked out in your bed. The Hybrids at that night class immediately start boasting about how good they fucked you and others immediately raise their voices, pleading their own case.

It’s only when you shift on the bed that the Bird Hybrid that brought you home immediately shushes them.

“Stop, stop, stop! We can’t wake her,” he whispers.

Their eyes all fall back onto you, silently watching your plush figure squirm and settle back on the bed. The small action alone causing them to get a little hard and they have to force themselves not to clamber onto the bed and wake you up.

No, instead they get to work. Upgrading your apartment in every possible way they know how. Cleaning it up and making it into a real home. While also enforcing it and making sure you’re the safest person in the neighborhood.

Creating the near perfect nest. Only second to their own they hope to bring you to someday.

They can’t wait for you to finally wake up. They all imagine the look on your face when you rouse from your slumber to see them all there and your apartment completely changed. But most of all… they can’t wait for the thank you gifts you’re bound to give them all.

You have to break in your new apartment somehow, don’t you?

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Fifteen

Steve’s left bloody smears on the tiles, but the bleeding does seem to have turned a little more sluggish; he’s too frightened now to pull his sock away, he’s pretty sure it’s stuck to the wounds where the blood has started to crust over.

From the floor, Steve manages to reach up for the phone, it rings nearly a dozen times, but Steve persists. He knows Hopper will assume it’s an emergency.

Steve hates doing this, but he definitely can’t drive. Just the thought of making it to the car on his own makes him cringe, and the dull, thudding pain is radiating out to the rest of his foot.

“Hopper.”

“Hop. Sorry. I think I need some help.”

“On my way.”

The doctor frowns at Steve spectacularly, “a raccoon?”

“I know, wild right?”

“So that means he definitely needs a tetanus,” Hopper says unhelpfully from where he’s perched on the other side of the treatment room. He’s got a coffee in a Styrofoam cup and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Steve hisses as the doctor uses some saline to loosen the sock, peeling it away from the wound, “I’ll give you something to numb the area, and then it will need some stitches. An x-ray might-”

“Nah,” Steve interjects, “stitch me up, I need to get home.”

The doctor has that look on her face again. From the other side of the room, Hopper sighs, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Steve can hear El and Eddie from where he’s standing in the kitchen. El’s been teaching him stuff again; today she’s taught him the ABC song. They rush through when they get to the ‘LMNOP’ part, making Steve smile.

“Okay Steve, we’re ready!” El shouts for him from the next room, and Steve goes in.

The furniture's been moved out of the way, Eddie lying on his back in the middle of the room. He’s laying on a white sheet, the long point of his tale stark black against the material. Next to his hip, there’s a pair of legs. They stand perfectly fine on their own, disembodied, rounds of flat pale skin on top, where they end at the thighs.

Eddie looks over smiling, “oh good, you’ve brought it.”

Steve looks down. In his hand he’s holding a saw.

Steve wakes, flailing. He’s gasping for air, trying to orientate himself. Panicking.

He’s sitting. It takes him a few confused seconds, but it all comes flooding back. Fuck, his neck hurts, and his back.

Just a dream he thinks on repeat to himself. Just a dream just a dream just a dream.

His foot. His foot is still up on the coffee table, “Steve, come on, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“What,” he manages to croak out.

“Here, drink this,” Robin hands him a half glass of tepid water, Steve downs it, “you had a nightmare.”

There’s a towel and a bag of peas draped over Steve’s ankle; trying to cool the area. Keep the swelling down, or whatever. The peas are melted now, the bag sagging in either direction with the weight of the mush inside.

The sight of it makes a sob catch in Steve’s chest, it comes out in a huge shudder, and Steve’s only vaguely worried he’ll never be able to walk the frozen isle in the store again. That he will cry spontaneously every time someone offers him a pear.

“When did you get here?”

“Mom dropped me off, Hopper wanted someone to watch you. He’s going to go check on El.”

Steve’s head feels muzzy. Too much has happened. They didn’t get home until the early hours, and Steve’s blinking in the full light of day that’s streaming into the lounge. “Where is he now?”

“Back yard.”

That takes a second to process, “no.”

Steve pulls his foot down, wobbling as he stands, leaving the towel and peas abandoned, “Steve, hang on.”

The dressing and stitches feel like they’re pulling as Steve takes a few tentative steps, the whole end of his foot feels like it’s burning, Steve moves until he can see Hopper; he can see him from the back, he’s smoking and looking down into the pool.

“Robs, get him away from there, please. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” she says, holding her hands out like she’s dealing with a skittish animal, she goes to the door, opening it and calling, “Hopper, he’s up!”

Hopper comes back in, dropping the end of his cigarette and stamping it out with his boot on his way in, “kid, are you sure he went into the pool?”

The implication of Hopper's question has Steve’s moving before he can really think about it, Robin calling after him that he’s got nothing on his feet, that it’s cold out. Steve ignores her. He has to walk funny, keeping all his weight on his heel on the left foot, but he makes it work. He sees why Hoppers asking; the water of the pool is opaque white.

It looks like the whole thing is filled with milk.

Hopper leaves to go and check on El. Steve’s glad, he did cause Hopper to have to leave her in the middle of the night, and that’s not fair on El, she might be worried.

Steve’s had maybe a couple of hours sleep on the couch, passing out when they got back from hospital. “You don’t have to do that,” he tells Robin; she’s scrubbing at the bloody smears Steve’s left on the kitchen tile.

“It’s fine, and it’s not like you’re in any condition to do it. What the fuck Steve, Hopper said he bit off two toes??”

Steve looks down at where the dressing’s covering his foot, “yeah.” Robin sits back on her haunches, bloody rag in hand, glaring. “He said that...if he eats Demogorgon, then that’s what he becomes. And if he eats Demodog, he becomes one of those so…”

“So you let him eat some of you instead? Because that’s the sane response-”

“I love him, Robs.”

She sighs, “I figured.”

Robin spends most of the day. She talks him into eating some toast; he balks at the thought of soup. Steve takes his pain killers and his antibiotics under Robins close supervision. They have the TV on, and Steve sleeps more.

She tells him to come away when he spends too much time staring out of the window.

Robin has to go that evening; she only does because Steve swears on everything she can think of that he will be fine. He will eat some eggs. He will take his pills. He’s not a complete invalid.

Robin leaves him after what is probably a ten minute hug, and a promise that she will sell Keith on Steve’s 'family emergency.'

The eggs are sitting heavy in Steve’s stomach when he hobbles outside. He managed to get a sock on over his dressing, but couldn’t bare the thought of anything else pressing on his wound, so he goes out like that. Just in socks.

He has a coat on at least, and takes the blanket, knocking snow off a pool lounger and moving it to the edge of the pool so he can sit with his feet up, wrapped in the blanket. The water still hasn’t frozen; but it is darker than it was. It’s turned a sort of pale mucky brown, like someone's mixed some dirt in.

Or chocolate milk.

Steve sits, and he waits, and he cries quietly.

Eventually the cold gets too much, and he heads back inside to try and sleep on the couch.

Steve stares blankly at the unlit Christmas tree, and considers dragging the thing outside and setting fucking fire to it.

He hasn’t cried since he woke up, which is a new current record, and he doesn’t understand where the anger has come from...but he thinks he might prefer it. It’s not fair. Nothing about this is fair, and it fills Steve with a rage he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced before.

Hopper sits opposite Steve, leaning forward, his hands dangling loose between his knees, and Steve knows that this is Hoppers ‘I’m trying to be kind, or sympathetic, or understanding face,’ Steve also knows he’s not going to like whatever is about to come out of Hopper's mouth and he’s already angry about it.

“Kid, I really think we should drain the pool.”

“No.”

Hopper takes a deep breath, “son,” and that one word fills Steve with a rage so complete he feels utterly still. Utterly calm. He’s completely empty, in that moment, except for the rage, “if we don’t, his body will rot into the water, and if you want to be able to bury him? Then-”

“Out.”

“-what?”

“Out,” Steve stands, and he speaks calmly and levelly, “get out of my house. Right now.”

Hopper doesn’t stand, he spreads his hands in a non threatening gesture, “El says she’s can’t feel him, kid, he’s gone-”

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Steve screams at him, suddenly full to brimming, his hears his pounding, breaths sharp, “I said get out!”

Hopper sighs. He looks at Steve with...pity on his face, but he gets up, and he leaves.

The water is so dark now it looks nearly black. Murky and shitty. There are black, choking vines growing up the inside of the tiles; clinging to the sides of the pool. Some of them are long enough to creep up over the edge, like The Upside Down is bleeding into Hawkins again. Steve is reminded viscerally of Barb Holland, and he hates it.

The phone is ringing. Steve ignores it until it stops.

It makes him itchy, ignoring the phone. It’s too ingrained in him that something could be wrong. It’s an emergency. The kids might need him.

It starts ringing again; Steve answers it this time, but only as a preventative measure. If he doesn’t answer it, whoever it is might show up, and Steve would really rather not right now.

“Hey, Steve.” Robs is uncharacteristically quiet. Reserved. “So...it’s Christmas tomorrow and, I know you said you didn’t want to come for the day but...what about in the evening? Just for a little bit?” She asks, hopefully. “Mom says we can save you some leftovers, you know.”

“Yeah...yeah, that’s really kind and everything Rob...” Steve trails off scrubbing at his face. He’s got a fair bit of stubble going on, and he only showered this morning because even he could pick up on the fact that he stank.

She sighs quietly, “have you been eating? Taking your meds?”

“I...yeah. Some. And finished the antibiotics.”

“Good. That’s good. You want me to come over then?”

“Uhm. No. No that’s fine you, you should have a nice Christmas with your family, okay? We can talk after.”

“Steve…”

“I know, Robs, I know, but I’ll be fine,” Steve tells her with a confidence he doesn’t feel.

“Okay, well, I’ll call tomorrow. Love you, Dingus.”

“Love you too Birdie.”

There are thick black vines growing up the legs of Steve’s pool chair; he ignores them. He climbs into position, wrapping himself in his blanket. He has a beer, his pills are finished now, so he can’t see the harm.

“I had a shower Eds, sure you’re pleased to hear that. Took the dressing off my foot, and it looks fine, you didn’t hurt me, not really.” Steve tacks on, “not ow,” out of habit.

Steve sips his beer, pulling the blanket tighter around his legs, and not thinking about Eddie's tail doing the same, “I’m supposed to have an appointment to get the stitches out, but it’s not until like the twenty seventh, or something, you know, everything being shut for Christmas. Which is tomorrow, by the way.”

Steve sighs, “anyway, I probably won’t go, it really doesn’t look so bad now, I think I could get them out with nail scissors and some tweezers, so I might just do that.”

Steve sips his beer, watching the laden pale clouds scud along overhead, “I think it might snow again, that’d be nice, right? White Christmas and all that stuff.”

Steve sighs again, and quietly admits, “I think you would have really liked Christmas. You get like, gifts and stuff-”

There’s a frantic splash in the pool, Steve’s up as quick as he can, fighting with his blanket, his beer bottle falling, forgotten, and rolling away on the tiles, getting caught on a vine.

Steve’s flooded with adrenaline, heart beating so fast, he doesn't register the chill as he scrambles up, stepping to the edge of the pool.

Eddie’s on the steps, he’s covered in so much slime and shit from the pool it's hard to see him, but Steve doesn’t care how dirty it is, he’s knee deep and helping to haul Eddie out the rest of the way.

He has no hair; but he does have legs, and he takes a stumbled step with Steve before collapsing to the ground. He can’t breathe, he’s bent over, on his hands and knees, choking. Steve’s lifeguard first aid training kicks in before he can really think about it; fueled by adrenaline, he braces Eddie with an arm about his middle, then using the palm of his hand he delivers one hard upward blow between Eddie’s shoulder blades.

Eddie splutters, but there’s nothing, so Steve does it again. Suddenly, like a seal has been broken, Eddie coughs up what might be nearly a pint of fluid, yellow and green and streaked with pink blood, it splatters loudly on the ground.

Eddie drags in a huge breath; it might be the most beautiful sound Steve’s ever heard.

They collapse down again, Eddie shivering like crazy, his teeth chattering; Steve grabs his blanket, covering Eddie. He’s naked and covered in gross shit, completely hairless, and has long gangly legs. Steve doesn’t pay attention to any of it really. Just Eddie. Eddie’s here.

He smells fucking awful, but Steve doesn’t care, Steve bundles him up and pulls him close, “Eddie, are you okay?”

Eddie blinks, his eyes crusted with gack from the pool, pink and puffy and sore looking around the lids, the whites bloodshot to fuck, his voice a raspy mess, the words broken by how violently his teeth are chattering, “Eddidie good bad.”

Steve bursts into tears.

Part Seventeen

[harrysfolklore]

can you do something with reneé rapp?

HERE WE GO MY FIRST JACOB BLURB !!!!!! this was so fun to write and i hope you guys like it, send requests for jacob blurbs if you would like to see more !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by sabrinacarpenter and theestallion and 431,175

yourinstagram face card no cash no credit

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ynfan1 SLAAAY

ynfan2 for real her face card never declines

madisonbeer icon 🤍

mtv the new it girl

oliviarodrigo that’s my regina george 😛

ynfan3 she’s an icon and she’s the moment

shawnmendes ❤️

ynfan4 i know her dms are full of celebrities sliding into them

liked by sydney_sweeney, yourinstagram and 903,686 others

jacobelordi @saltburnfilm in theaters Tomorrow🏰

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jacobfan1 AHHHHHH

jacobfan2 he was crafted by god himself

saltburnfilm 🧂🔥

alexademie ❤️

jacobfan3 SLAY OF THE CENTURY IS COMING

yourinstagram seated

↳ ynfan1 WHAT ARE U DOING HERE

↳ ynfan2 she’s just like me

liked by jacobelordi, madisonbeer and 583,927 others

yourinstagram no thoughts just murder on the dancefloor and the saltburn movie in general

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ynfan1 SO TRUEEEE

ynfan2 she’s just like me

sabrinacarpenter okay but look at you wtf

sukiwaterhouse 😍

jacobfan1 SHE GETS IT

ynfan3 you should get jacob elordi’s bath water candle

↳ yourinstagram i already ordered it

↳ ynfan1 SHES SOOOOO

↳ jacobfan2 I NEED TO STAN

//

liked by jacobfan1, jacobfan2 and 4,836 others

jacobupdates Jacob arriving to the ‘Mean Girls’ premiere after party tonight !

view all 204 comments

jacobfan1 OMG????

jacobfan2 idk who invited him but SLAY

jacobfan3 truth is he should’ve been casted as aaron

jacobfan4 HE LOOKS SO DREAMY

liked by jacobelordi, bellahadid and 591,625 others

yourinstagram afterparty things 🪩

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ynfan1 SLAY OF SLAYS

madisonbeer LOVE YOU 😍

ynfan2 her face card never declines fr

ynfan3 i can’t believe she looks like THIS and i look like a bag of potatoes

jacobfan1 i’m assuming she and jacob met and maximized their joint slay

jacobelordi 🕺🕺

↳ jacobfan2 HELLOOO?

↳ ynfan4 ICONS OF THE MOMENT

↳ yourinstagram lesss do it again

↳ ynfan1 okay i love this

//

liked by jacobfan1, jacobfan2 and 3,286 others

elordishitpost JACOB what are you doing here ??? (pls read it like it was the ariana what are you doing here tiktok audio)

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jacobfan1 LMAOOOOO

jacobfan2 wait who is this about ?? like whose bday is it lol

↳ elordishitpost yn she plays regina george in the new mean girls movie

jacobfan3 that twitter user who’s always spreading the yn x jacob agenda must be jumping

jacobfan4 i hate deuxmoi sm they’re always starting shit

jacobfan5 jacob and yn are besties he went to the mean girls afterparty

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yourinstagram BIRTHDAYYYYY DUMP

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ynfan1 LOVE THIS SO BAD

ynfan2 HEEEELP

troyesivan happy birthday icon

jacobfan1 THE SECOND PIC 😭

jacobfan2 not the bath water candle

sabrinacarpenter 😍

ynfan3 everyone talking about the candle but THE RIPPED STOCKING BC SHE FELL 😭

jacobelordi We did murder the dancefloor

↳ jacobfan1 WORLD STOP

↳ ynfan1 i love this jacob x yn duo

↳ jacobfan2 i would say that i hope they’re dating but jacob literally just got out of a relationship

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celebrityleaks YN and Jacob Elordi leaving her New York apartment today

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ynfan1 OMFGGGG

jacobfan1 YES ????

ynfan2 i love this duo sm

jacobfan2 do we think they’re dating 👀

↳ jacobfan3 nah, jacob just got out of a relationship

ynfan3 LOVE THEM SM

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jacobelordi @nbcsnl

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jacobfan1 OHHHH YES

ynfan1 THIS IS WHAT THE WORLD NEEDED

hunterschafer YES 🙌🏻

ynfan2 im bi panicking already

sabrinacarpenter ❤️

jacobfan2 THATS why they have been hanging out so much

ynfan3 this is going to be so good

yourinstagram they’re not ready

↳ ynfan4 NO WE’RE NOT

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yourinstagram hello host

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ynfan1 SHUT UPPPP

jacobfan1 THANK YOU YN FOR THE CONTENT

oliviarodrigo honestly i can’t wait for this 😛

ynfan1 omggg they’re rehearsing already

jacobfan2 this is going to be the best snl episode ever

jacobelordi Wait It’s my turn

↳ jacobfan3 WHAT DOES HE MEAN

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jacobelordi Hello musical guest

view all 19,825 comments

jacobfan1 AHHHHH

zendaya ❤️

ynfan1 BEST DUO IN THE WORLD

jacobfan2 bye i ship them

mtv we support this

jacobfan3 THIS IS WHAT HE MEANT

yourinstagram 🕺

ynfan3 man i can’t wait for this

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celebrityleaks JACOB ELORDI AND YN OUT IN NEW YORK TONIGHT

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jacobfan1 STFUUUUU

ynfan1 HELP?

jacobfan2 WE KNEW THIS WAS COMING

ynfan2 im speechless

jacobfan3 SNL IS GOING TO BE CRAZY

↳ jacobfan1 HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH

ynfan4 THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE HAS ME CRYING

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yourinstagram when a queen comes across another queen and they decide to maximize their joint slay

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ynfan1 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

jacobfan1 BABYGIRL AND MOTHER

madisonbeer babygirl and mother indeed 👀

ynfan2 they’re going to be so messy tomorrow i just know it

jacobfan2 that public hard launch is coming

hunterschafer ❤️❤️

jacobelordi Mother

↳ jacobfan4 HE KNOWS

↳ ynfan2 he knowsss

YN VIA INSTAGRAM STORIES

FANS VIA TWITTER

//

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jacobupdates Jacob and YN arriving to the SNL afterparty tonight !

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jacobfan1 AHJHHHHHHHH

ynfan1 so they’re a thing THING

jacobfan2 everything about this is perfect

ynfan2 COUPLE OF THE CENTURY

jacobfan3 LOVE THEM SO BAD FR

ynfan3 they took “maximize their joint slay” to another level

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yourinstagram live from new york with my boyfriend if you even care (yes he’s my boyfriend and he was the one who slid on my dms not the other way around)

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ynfan1 WORLD STOP

jacobfan1 CUT THE CAMERAS

oliviarodrigo ❤️❤️❤️

hunterschafer love you both

jacobfan2 IM SCREAMING

ynfan2 AHH I KNEW IT

theestallion 🔥🤍

ynfan3 they’re two of the most iconic people in hollywood rn and smh they’re together WE WON

jacobfan3 JACOB IS A LIAR

jacobelordi I take pride on my flirting tactics

↳ jacobfan1 SOMEBODY STOP HIM

↳ ynfan1 😭😭

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jacobelordi @nbcsnl Thank you for having me

view all 20,927 comments

jacobfan1 BABYYYYYYY

jacobfan2 he’s always posing like he’s small

sydney_sweeney ❤️

ynfan1 he’s so hot i get it girl @yourinstagram

yourinstagram i hard launch us on social media and you just post this

yourinstagram wow

↳ ynfan2 CRYING

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[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imagine...Meeting Dean On A Bad Day

Summary: The reader is dropping her brother off at college when she bumps into a stranger who makes a very awkward assumption...

Pairing: Dean x reader

_______

“So where’s orientation again?” asked Lonnie, scrolling through his phone. You rolled your eyes and dug some papers out of your bag, handing them to him. “What’s that?”

“A campus map doofus and you orientation schedule. I told you to print it. Wifi on campus can be shitty,” you said. 

“Yes mom,” he said, making a show out of it.

“Freshman orientation is over in Jub Hall. Giant banner in front of it on the quad. Can’t miss it,” said a guy walking past. 

“Thanks,” said Lonnie, taking the papers and jogging off. 

“I’ll meet you back here for dinner!” you shouted.

“Yeah see ya!” he said, running off. You shook your head, the guy smiling.

“It’s a great school. He’ll like it here,” said the young guy. You smiled, taking a deep breath. “First one?”

“Hm?”

“First kid at college?” You narrowed your eyes and dropped your jaw, the guy swallowing.

“You think I’m his mom? I’m his sister. He was being sarcastic.” You scoffed and headed back for the parking lot, the guy groaning. “Yeah I look old enough to be his mother, thanks a lot.”

“No, no I was thinking must have been a teen...” he trailed off as you spun around. “Preg...”

“Oh so I’m not older, just a teen mom. Got it.” 

“Sorry,” he said. “I just...sorry.” He took off past you and you calmed down for a minute before walking to your car. You had to laugh when you saw the guy kicking a flat tire at the car next to yours. He looked up and sighed. “Today’s not my day.”

“It’s fine. I get it,” you said, tossing a few empty boxes in the back of your SUV. “Lonnie is my kid brother. I take care of him.”

“I got a little brother myself. He’s in the law school here.”

“Moving him in?”

“No. I uh, I work here. Worked here,” he said. “Department cuts.”

“For how much they’re charging tuition I would hope that’s not true.”

“Didn’t like the job very much anyways,” he said. 

“You need a ride or...”

“Nah I got a spare in the trunk. Like I said, just not my day.”

“Well I have a feeling my brother is ditching me for dinner tonight. First round’s on me for your shitty day.”

“I’m the one that should be buying you one after assuming.”

“You can buy me one after. Unless you’re gonna call me old again.” He smiled, cocking his head. “Don’t push it.”

“Elk Tavern has some pretty good food.”

“Elk Tavern is a very nice restaurant.”

“Good. So you’re local.”

“Never said I wasn’t. There you go assuming things again, pretty boy.”

“I assume we can get that drink over dinner?” You rolled your eyes, leaning back against your car. “Come on. At least my day won’t be completely shitty that way.”

“Alright. Elk Tavern. Eight.” You started to turn and head towards the door when you paused. “Put the reservation under Impala.”

He smirked, stepping aside as you backed out. 

“What’s your number? Or you know, name,” he asked when you shifted into drive. You smiled, the guy raising an eyebrow. “Oh that’s how you’re gonna play it?”

“If you want the answer to that you better fix that tire in time for your date.”

“Alright sassy. But I want that number after you inevitably fall for my charm tonight. Deal?”

“You got a deal casanova,” you laughed. “See you later.”

“Not such a crappy day after all,” he said before you drove off grinning.

_______

[mediumgayitalian]

Will wakes up sometime around two, stumbling over to Arts & Crafts. He looks so incredibly, adorably sleepy, face creased with pillow marks and hair sticking out everywhere even worse than usual, that Nico can’t help his smile.

“Morning,” he says quietly, shifting over in the bench to make room. “Or, well, afternoon.”

“Mmfh,” Will responds. He sways on his feet, eyes still closed, so Nico has reach back and take his hand, guiding him to the seat Nico cleared for him.

“Still sleepy?”

Instead of answering, Will slumps onto his shoulder. Nico tenses for a moment, but quickly relaxes — Will is out of it. He’s a heavy weight on Nico’s side, and his breath comes out in little puffs; he’s halfway to snoring. He sets aside the clay sculpture he was making, wiping off his hands, and shifts slightly to make his shoulder more comfortable, sliding his hands in Will’s hair. After a quick glance to double check that no one’s around, he cards through the matted curls, carefully untangling the birds nest that sits currently upon his head.

“Night shift was long?”

Will groans, nuzzling deeper into Nico’s neck. Nico huffs, allowing it, turning his half-limp body so he’s practically sitting on top of him. It’s kind of a nice weight, actually. And Will is warm, slumped and half-sprawled in his lap like a freckly blanket.

“Got thrown up on three times.”

It takes Nico a second to decipher the words, mumbled as they are. His finger gets caught in a strand of Will’s hair as he winces, tugging a touch too hard. Will shivers.

“Oof.”

“Mhm. Shouldn’t complain, though. Not Cecil’s fault.” He pauses. “Well, it’s a little his fault. I told him not to mess with Billie’s garden.”

Nico smiles. “You know, it’s not the first time a Hermes kid has been poisoned for their dumbassery. You could’ve left his cabin to handle him.”

“They would do a horrible job. They might actually make him worse.”

“Yep.”

“…I can’t leave him to suffer, Neeks.”

“Hero complex,” Nico teases. “Sounds like a natural consequence to me.”

“Shhhh. I’m sleeping.”

“It’s two thirty in the afternoon, Solace.”

“Pot, kettle, et cetera.”

Nico smiles. “Only dorky people say et cetera when they’re half asleep.” He shifts, accepting that he has a lapful of head medic, now, no refunds or exchanges. It’s still, somehow, very comfortable — he feels as if he’s laying in a sun patch, under a warm, heavy blanket. Plus, Will smells like strawberries and lavender and his sandalwood shampoo. Nico could get used to it.

He does, however, subtly raise a couple skeleton to stand guard outside the gazebo — no need to get anyone gossiping. As cute as a sleepy Solace is, Nico can and will shove him to the ground the second anyone gets too close. He has a Reputation.

(He is a liar.)

“Did I miss the strawberry coffee cake this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Aw.”

Nico hums, untangling the last of his hair. Without anything for his hands to do, he slides them under Will’s hoodie, resting them in his stomach, ignoring his whining and exaggerated shiver at Nico’s ice-cold hands.

If Nico is going to function as his personal bean-bag chair, Will is going to function as his space heater. Fair’s fair.

“Saved a piece for you, though.”

He feels Will’s grin more than sees it, twisted up as they are. He feels his happy little wiggle, too, arms flailing before wrapping around Nico’s waist, thighs shifting before re-bracketing his hips.

“You’re my actual favourite.”

“Hm. I think you say that to all the boys you save you strawberry cake and let you nap on them.”

“Nah.” Will’s breathing starts to slow, body stilling as he rests his head right about Nico’s heart. He can feel his puffs of breath in his collarbone, tickling the skin under his thin t-shirt. “Just you.”

Nico flushes, more pleased than he’s willing to admit, and rests his chin on his head, watching over the strawberry fields. He checks that Will is actually asleep, and when he is, he presses a quick, darting kiss to his still-creased cheek, and smiles.

“You’re my favourite, too.”

[beat-the-morning]

🖤Guitar Face || Hozier x Reader🖤

FULL FIC ON TUMBLR AFTER CUT || READ ON AO3

Rating: 18+ - Smut

Tags: Pre-Debut Hozier, vaginal fingering, finger sucking, vaginal sex, teasing, protected sex.

Summary: Andrew teaches you how to play guitar while you both try to ignore the very obvious and overwhelming sexual tension between you.

Word count: 5.4k

A/N: I’m back after a month of not posting (sorry lol) with a long fic to make up for lost time (yay) and to take our minds off of everything, really. When will I post my next fic, you ask? I don’t fucking know man, I’m just vibing. I do have a few ideas that I want to start, including a multichapter fic that will get written someday. Love you all, enjoy this pre-debut hozier fic💙

💙FULL FIC UNDER THE CUT💙

You needed a hobby, urgently. It was your second semester of your first year of university at Trinity College Dublin, and you had yet to find something to occupy your time that wasn’t studying, working, or just doing nothing with the group of friends that, despite your nervous and introverted nature, you had managed to form in your first semester. You were desperate for something new to do, a new skill or pastime to occupy you when all your friends were busy or simply when you felt like doing something other than hanging out with them.

The idea of learning guitar came to you after talking to one of your friends about your newfound need for a hobby, she mentioned that you had a great sense of rhythm and that you already really liked music, so why not pick up an instrument. She didn’t tell you to pick up guitar specifically, but it seemed like a good choice for learning in your spare time, and it’s not like you had the money to buy a keyboard or drums, much less a more classical instrument like a violin, a cello or a harp, and you already knew that you didn’t have the lungs for wind instruments.

You asked around your friend group if anyone had any suggestions for cheap guitars to buy, you got one that was moderately good and within your budget. You started to learn by yourself, the only thing was that you sucked, you barely understood the tutorials you found on youtube and didn’t even know if you were really doing it right, your fingers were sloppy and uncoordinated and you only angered yourself more and more with each note you got wrong. So, after two weeks and a half of frustration, you decided that maybe a guitar teacher wasn’t a bad idea, and that if that didn’t work you’d sell your guitar and pick up photography or something that didn’t require you to use your fingers as much.

It was Friday evening, and some members of Trinity Orchestra were having a small rehearsal/get together, and you knew your friend would be there since she was a pianist in the orchestra, so maybe she could help you learn guitar or at the very least find a teacher. You arrived at the get together when it was almost finished, you didn’t want to interrupt them, even if it wasn’t really a rehearsal, you felt out of place just by being there. Miranda, your friend, spotted you from her bench and beckoned you over to her, she’d been expecting you since you told her earlier that day that you’d go see her at the rehearsal, she was leaning on the closed piano, a half eaten bag of crisps sat on the cover of its keys. “I thought you’d come sooner, you missed the little concert.” She smiled.

“Nah, I’d rather not interrupt.” You smiled back, “anyway, what I wanted to talk about before you ran off today because of your horrible time manage skills-“

“-They’re not that bad, come on.” She pouted playfully, faking indignation.

“Bullshit.” You argued back, trying to hold in a laugh. “Now, do you know how to play guitar?”

“No, just piano, and the organ, kind of. Why?”

“I’ve been trying to learn how to play on my own but I can’t get the hang of it, I need a teacher or something.” You explained, trying to be quiet enough so that no one else would hear.

“Teacher for what?” A masculine voice asked from behind you, making you jump slightly in surprise. You turned around, a lanky guy with dorky glasses and a blonde fringe stood there, looking at you as he tried to guess who you were. “Have we met before?” He finally asked.

“I don’t think so,” you answered, a nervous smile on your face

“I’m Alex,” he smiled back to you, but his smile was more welcoming than anything else. You told him your name, and that you were a friend of Miranda, which prompted her to speak up.

“They’re trying to learn guitar,” she joined in. “Maybe you could help them?”

“Can’t, I’m drowning in coursework already, sorry,” Alex said earnestly, seeming genuinely sorry that he wasn’t able to help you learn how to play.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure I’ll find someone to teach me.” You assured him, relaxing a bit more now that you had spoken the slightest bit more to him.

“Andy could help you, though.” A smirk grew on his face, “he’s always looking for an excuse to not do his work.”

“Andrew’s a vocalist though isn’t he?” Miranda chimed in again.

“He does more things apart from singing, you know.” Answered Alex.

“I didn’t know he played guitar though, I’ve never seen him play it.” She argued.

“He does! He’s self taught though, so his has this weird way of playing where he-“

“Sorry, but, who’s Andrew?” You interrupted, needing some clarification as to who they were talking about.

“Right, you don’t know who he is,” Alex chuckled, “he’s that one over there.” He said, pointing over to a group of about five guys all chatting while standing around a table.

“Which one?” You asked, still not knowing who to look at.

“The tall one.” Alex and Miranda said in unison. Your eyes focused on him, a pale, lanky guy with dark, shaggy curls on his head and a 3 day stubble on his face and neck, he was at least half a head taller than the second tallest man in the conversation circle. He was smiling, his cheeks a rosy tone from how much he’d been laughing, his front teeth were slightly crooked from what you could see from a distance, and you noticed a pair of glasses in his left hand as your eyes trailed down his body, you assumed that they were his glasses with how he was holding them so close to his body. He was so cute, you thought to yourself, a bit of a nerd maybe but it’s not like you weren’t into it as well.

“Andy!” Alex’s call broke your train of thought, and maybe that was for the best, who knows where you were going to end up with those. Andrew turned to look at Alex, noticing Miranda sat on her seat, and then you, you could’ve sworn you saw him look you up and down as a small smirk formed on his face. Alex moved his arm to call him over, and he approached without hesitation, quickly walking over to the little group you were in.

Alex introduced you to each other and quickly explained your situation to Andrew, who agreed to teach you. You agreed on payment, how many times a week you’d meet, the whole thing, really, and then you exchanged numbers.

“If you want we can meet up tomorrow and we can start with the basics,” he suggested, putting on his glasses as he put your number in his phone. Fucking hell, he looked adorable with them on, you felt your cheeks heat up as you looked at him.

“Yeah, that’d be good,” you agreed without thinking, “I’ll send you my address and we can meet at my place if you want.”

“Sure,” he looked at you with a small smile. You decided on a time to meet and then went home for the night after saying goodbye to your friend.

You felt a nervous knot in your stomach as you laid down in your bed, the worry of making a fool of yourself in front of a cute guy was catching up on you. You shook those thoughts off, putting on some faint music before finally going to sleep.

You woke up the next day, looking at the clock on your bedside table only to find that it wasn’t actually morning, but past noon, almost 1pm in fact. You got ready for the day and had what could best be described as a big brunch before deciding to clean your apartment before Andrew arrived later in the day, something that you only remembered when you saw a message from him confirming that he had your address right. Why did you agree to this again? You cursed yourself as you cleaned up the small space you lived in, it was an attic converted into a studio apartment that was way too cheap for how big it was, but it’s not like you were going to complain.

Time passed as you finished cleaning your apartment, having just enough time to shower before Andrew arrived. You had just finished dressing up when your phone rang, you picked up to find Andrew on the other side of the line, asking you to open since the doorbell wasn’t working, so, taking your keys in your hand, you ran downstairs to open the front door for him. He was carrying a guitar case and what you assumed was a small amp, he wore a very simple outfit, a shirt and jeans with a brown leather jacket and some old tattered converse, but no glasses. “I like the jacket.” You said while guiding him towards the elevator.

“Thanks,” he smiled shyly, “I brought my electric guitar, I hope you don’t mind, my acoustic one has a broken string and I still need to replace it.”

“It’s fine, mine is electric too.” You smiled back.

You went into your apartment, he commented on the fact that it was a studio, and on the absence of a sofa. “The TV’s over there so I usually just put all my pillows on my bed and use it as a couch.” You explained, pointing out the TV on the wall next to the bed. Andrew laughed to himself, he mumbled something under his breath that you thought sounded like “that’s so fucking cute”. He sat on your bed, taking out his guitar and tuning it without even plugging it in to the amp.

You took out yours, tuning it as well with an app on your phone. You and Andrew talked for a bit, making jokes and breaking the tension before he explained the basics of guitar playing to you. You listened attentively and asked questions about the things you didn’t understand, he was a great teacher so far, and you could honestly listen to him speak for hours, his voice was lovely, no wonder Miranda said he was mainly a vocalist.

The time came to finally plug in the guitars, yours was already plugged to your amp, you just needed to turn it on, which you quickly did while Andrew set up his, he plugged the amp to the wall, grabbing the cable to plug it into his guitar, he wasn’t paying much attention to it though, his mind was somewhere else. While his head was, in fact, pointing down towards the guitar, his eyes were mostly looking up at you through his brows, using his curls as a shield so you wouldn’t notice him staring. His hand faltered, the jack circled the plug it was supposed to go in, making some magnetic noises come from the amplifier, you smiled at his dorkiness, finding it adorable. “Trouble putting it in?” You asked, not fully realising the other possible meaning of the question until it was already out of your mouth, he looked up at you with a quizzical look before you both burst into laughter at the question.

“I’m good, thanks,” he said between laughs, getting the jack into the plug once he finally stopped looking up at you. “‘trouble putting it in,’?” He echoed your words with a lovingly mocking tone, trying not to laugh again.

“I wasn’t thinking!” You tried to defend yourself while suppressing more laughter.

“Clearly,” he giggled.

The real, practical, lesson finally began, you spent the next hour and a half learning to play a couple chords and how to transition between them. It was hell, your hands were oddly shaky and very uncoordinated, so you asked for a break before you threw your guitar out the window. “Tea?” You asked, already thinking about making some for yourself so you could have an excuse to wander your apartment for a bit.

“Sure, I’ll have whatever you have.” Andrew nodded, standing up and stretching a bit and walking over to your bookshelf.

You went over to the kitchenette to put the kettle on, your thoughts wandering to how Andrew looked, he was so pretty, and you were definitely embarrassing yourself with your horrible guitar skills, but he had to have expected that, right? You did tell him that you knew basically nothing about playing guitar after all.

He walked closer to you, leaning on the kitchen island. “You’re not as bad as you told me you’d be yesterday, you know.” He said with a kind look in his eyes.

“I’m not?” You asked as you turned to face him.

“Yeah, I mean, your fingers are a bit uncoordinated and all but that’s just getting the hang of it.” He explained. “You picked up the chords and their positions on the neck of the guitar pretty quickly, though, that’s a good sign.”

“Oh, well that’s good at least,” you chuckled, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get the hang of it, though, I have horrible hand-eye coordination.”

“It can’t be that bad, come on,” he scoffed playfully, walking over to you and almost-sitting on the counter closest to you

“It is.”

“I think your hands are just fine, you just need to practise, and maybe learning guitar will help when you do other things with your hands, it did for me.” He winked, you felt your face heat up.

“What other things?” You tilted your head to the side as you smirked.

“Just… things, you’ll see what I mean.” He chuckled, he pressed his thumb into his palm. His eyes looked you up and down slowly, but you pretended not to notice.

“Oh I’m sure.” You laughed.

The water boiled and you made the tea, you lost the track of time as your conversation went on, it was ever so slightly flirty, just some comments here and there that made you both blush coupled with a few lingering touches. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to do more than just learn guitar with him, but you didn’t want to be too forward, so you waited.

/#/#/#/

You met with Andrew for guitar lessons every other day for the next four weeks, slowly improving on your skill while also getting to know each other more and more, to the point that you’d hang out with him even if you weren’t practising, you’d gone to the pub with him and a few more friends a couple times and would just randomly message each other every so often throughout the day just to check on one another. It was nice, and, even if your crush on him had only gotten stronger as the days passed, you were glad to have a new friend. He was so sweet and just the right amount of dorky nerd that you couldn’t help but love him, you only hoped he felt the same way about you.

It was a Saturday evening, Andrew had been over at your apartment since lunch, you’d started the lesson right after he arrived at 1 and it was now 6:30pm, he’d been teaching you a song, or more so trying to. It wasn’t even a hard one, your hands just were not collaborating today and both you and Andrew were growing increasingly frustrated.

You were standing next to your bed while Andrew sat down on it, the guitar was strapped around you, you were considering making it against the ground in frustration. “You look angry, darling.” He pointed out, his expression unreadable.

“I’m not,” you lied, “just frustrated, I don’t know why I can’t get it right.”

“Maybe your hands are just tired, rest a bit and try again later.” He suggested.

“No.”

“The guitar won’t leave if you stop playing for a second, you know?”

“I just want to get this part right, just to hear how it sounds and then I’ll rest.”

Andrew scoffed, the smallest smirk forming on his face, he rolled his eyes before standing up and walking over to you, his frame towering over yours. “Let’s hear it then.” He ordered.

You swallowed air nervously, slightly intimidated by the combination of his height and the more strict and dominant tone his voice had taken. Your fingers moved on the guitar, clumsily playing the song and restarting it every time you messed up a note. After a few failed attempts, he moved behind you, grabbing the guitar even though it was still on you.

He pushed himself flush against your back, his hands playing the instrument as if you weren’t there. You felt the vibrations of the guitar against your abdomen and his body against your back, and, thanks to your height difference, you could perfectly feel his crotch pressing against your lower back. You felt your face heat up and a few whimpers escaping your mouth as he played, and he was definitely getting a bit into it as well, thrusting his hips into you as the song went on, the worst part was that you weren’t even sure if he was doing it because of the song or to rile you up, but that was the effect it was having anyway.

He stopped playing before he got to the chorus of the song, taking the guitar off you before he finally stepped away. “Heard it. Now, rest.” He instructed, throwing himself back on your makeshift couch.

“What the hell was that?” You asked dumbfounded, a nervous chuckle escaped you.

“Sorry, I just… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, it was weird.” He mumbled, his eyes focusing on your pillows instead of on you.

“I didn’t think it was weird,” you stretched the truth lightly, you had thought it slightly weird when he did that, but you also couldn’t ignore the burning between your thighs and you needed to know if he was feeling the same way you were right now. “You could’ve just taken the guitar off me, though.”

“It wouldn’t have worked, you would’ve gotten mad at me.” He bit his lip to fight back a smirk. “I wasn’t really thinking, anyway, and you said you wanted to hear how it sounded so… yeah.”

Your eyes wandered to his crotch for a second, he looked like he was at least slightly hard. Quickly focusing back on his face, you giggled and threw yourself on the makeshift couch next to him, you laid on your side, looking at Andrew with a small, loving smile on your face.

“What’s the smile for?” He asked, turning to his side so he could face you as well.

“Nothing,” you continued to smile. “It’s just funny that you’re kind of beating yourself up about it when I actually kinda liked it.”

“Oh?” His eyes widened for a second as he scooted closer to you. “And what about it did you like?”

“I like how the guitar felt against me. The vibrations of it, you know? I play so slow that I don’t usually feel them like… that.” You bit your thumb lightly, trying to appear a bit more innocent so he wouldn’t guess what you were really thinking about.

“Yeah, they’re nice,” he looked at your lips as well, then scooted even closer. “Anything else you liked?”

“Well… I liked how you felt… against me.” You admitted, only to see Andrew’s smile widening. His hand moved to your cheek, silently encouraging you to keep going. “I liked how you were thrusting against me, it felt nice.”

“Just nice?” He teased, caressing your cheek.

“It was kinda hot, too.”

“I thought so too, maybe we could do something about it?” He suggested, his hand moving to your hip.

You nodded weakly, your lips parting ever so slightly. Andrew lunged in to kiss you, his mouth crashing against yours as you kissed him back passionately. Slowly he moved to be on top of you as you kissed, his right leg moved between yours, pressing against your core. Your hips moved against his legs, desperate for any kind of release. His tongue darted into your mouth, exploring as it pleased while your hands tangled in his shaggy curls.

You deepened the kiss, it became sloppier and more desperate as the seconds passed by, Andrew pulled back, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths to each other’s. His breathing mirrored yours, ragged and irregular even as you tried to calm down slightly. His glasses were slipping off his nose, so, as one does, you moved your hand from his hair and adjusted them, making him chuckle softly. “I feel like a fucking teenager.” He laughed, leaning in to plant small kisses on your jaw and neck.

“You’re twenty-two, not that far from it.” You teased while quiet moans escaped your lips.

“Shut up.” He laughed, his kisses on your skin turning more demanding. His hands snaked under your shirt, slowly pulling it off you until he could finally throw it on to the floor. He grabbed your breasts, moving his face between them before starting to kiss and lightly bite them, you arched your back into him, more moans escaping you.

“Fuck! Andy… please,” you moaned loudly, he hummed against your chest.

“What is it, baby?” He asked with a wicked smile, looking up at you through the rim of his glasses. You whimpered and rubbed yourself against his leg as a response, making him chuckle once more. “So needy… I’ve been wanting you for a while, let me at least play a little before I ravage you.”

“Play faster, I want you now.” You whined again, pulling him in to kiss him. He happily obliged, kissing you back while his hands made quick work of your jeans.

Your jeans and underwear quickly joined the growing pile of discarded clothing on your floor, leaving you completely bare. Your hands moved from Andrew’s hair as he pulled away from your mouth, instead trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone once more, your touch moved to the hem of his shirt, pulling at the cloth to try and pull it off him already. He quickly caught onto that and pulled his own shirt and undershirt off himself, uncovering his torso. He was still as lanky and thin as he was with clothes on, but he was a bit fuller than you had imagined, the slightest bit of pudge gathering on his abdomen. Your gaze turned him slightly shy, his cheeks reddening as he looked away for a second.

“I know this probably isn’t what you imagined,” he said sheepishly, a nervous tone in his voice, “I’m s-“

“You’re so pretty,” you interrupted him, still staring at his body.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, I do.” You smiled, your hands grazed his skin. “You’re very hot, too.”

“Flatterer.” He smiled back, leaning in to kiss you again. You felt goosebumps forming on his skin the more you caressed him.

“I would never, I’m only saying what I think.” You kissed him back.

He hummed happily into the kiss, his hand travelling lower and lower on your body until it reached your core. He gently caressed it with two fingers, smiling darkly when he felt just how wet you were. Slowly, he played with your clit, making you whimper and buckle your hips against his hand, silently begging for more. He obliged, moving to push two fingers inside you and making you gasp at the intrusion, he slowly pumped them in and out, his thumb moving to play with your clit.

“Is this something that playing guitar helps with?” You teased while trying to suppress your moans.

Andrew chuckled, his fingers quickening. “Yes, actually.” He kissed along your jaw. “It helps a lot, makes it easier to fuck you.”

You moaned more, holding onto him like a lifeline as he played with you. His lips moved to your neck again, leaving passionate kisses and hickeys as he memorised every inch of your skin. His movements quickened even more, his thumb playing with your clit in a way that made your legs shake slightly, his other hand grabbed your hip, his nails digging into your skin. You felt the all-familiar burning-white desire in your lower abdomen, your whines got more and more high pitched until they were nothing more than needy whimpers.

Andrew chuckled, pulling away from your neck to look at your face as you came undone before him. “That’s it, let go for me,” he whispered softly, his free hand now moving up to brush your hair away from your face. “That’s it, good girl. Let me feel you, baby, please.”

You felt something snap within you at his words, pure pleasure running through you as you came on his fingers, covering them with your essence. He smiled at your blissed out expression, taking it in as he fingered you through your orgasm. Once it subsided he pulled out his fingers and licked them clean as you looked at him, a moan escaping him as he finally tasted you.

“Fuck, you’re delicious, I’m going to fucking devour you next time.” He growled.

“Why not now?” You teased breathlessly, still recovering from your orgasm.

“Because I might explode if I don’t put my dick inside you right now.” He teased back, reaching into his wallet for a condom. “Can I fuck you now, baby? Or do you need to recover a bit more first?”

“Now, please.” You begged without thinking.

Andrew smiled at your eagerness, taking off his pants and underwear to reveal his cock, it was as long as you thought, or hoped, it’d be, somewhere above average that was still enjoyable, but his thickness surprised you, he was wider than you’d imagined. You felt your mouth watering. “You’re staring.” He said firmly, rolling on the condom, “does it scare you?” He asked, his tone a mixture of dominance and genuine concern.

“No.” You smiled, opening your legs more. “I was just a bit surprised.”

“A good surprise, I hope.” He smiled back, grabbing your legs and pulling you closer to him. You chuckled at his words.

“A very good surprise, yeah.”

You reached out to touch him once again, his hands catching yours and pushing them to be above your head. He held them in place with his left hand while his right travelled to your thigh, lifting it ever so slightly as he positioned himself between your legs. His cock brushed lightly against your core, making you both whimper lightly at the feeling, then, slowly, he pushed in. Your gasp matched his moaning, soft and quiet enough that it was almost whispered, he was pushing in slowly, making sure it wasn’t painful for you. He bottomed out after a few more seconds, his movements stopping as he let you get used to his size. He leaned in to kiss you, a slow, loving kiss that had you melting into his touch even more.

You moved your hips after a few kisses, signalling Andrew to move. He happily obliged, slowly thrusting in and out of you. Your moans filled the room, making a symphony with his. “You feel so fucking good, baby, oh my god.” He practically whimpered into your ear, interlocking his fingers with yours. His other hand held tightly onto your thigh, his grip almost bruising as he lost himself in you. You shook your hand free from his, moving it to his hair along with your other hand to pull him in for a kiss, muffling your moans.

“Faster, please.” You begged between kisses, Andrew growled in response, letting go of all his restraint. His pace quickened to a brutal one, pistoning in and out of you without a care in the world. Your hands moved down to his back, your nails leaving scratches as you neared your peak just from the feeling of his cock inside you.

He straightened up, getting a better view of you, completely blissed out and moaning like crazy, sweat making some of your hair stick to your face. His hand caressed your cheek lovingly, his thumb pressing on your mouth to pry it open. “Open up, baby.” He ordered, and you obeyed without hesitation. His thumb moved inside your mouth, pressing on your tongue. “Suck.” He added.

And you did, sucking gently on his thumb as a lopsided smile grew in his face. He whispered soft praises as he fucked you, his thumb thrusting slightly in and out at a gentle pace to contrast the one of his hips.

He moved your leg with his other hand so your ankle would be resting on his shoulder, changing the angle in just the right position so his pubic bone would hit your clit every time he bottomed out. Your moans got louder, or as much as they could since your sucking of his thumb muffled most of the noise. Andrew moaned too, quieter, softer moans that could only be audible between your own, but you loved every single one you could hear. You felt his cock twitch inside you.

You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your own hand moving to your clit to give you the extra friction you needed. Andrew pulled his thumb out of your mouth and moved it to your clit before you could reach it on your own, flicking it rapidly as he moved your leg off his shoulder so he could lean in to kiss you again. You moaned into his mouth and he moaned into yours, both of you nearing your respective climaxes, his cock twitched more inside you, his thrusting becoming erratic and uncoordinated. You felt the pure, unadulterated ecstasy threatening to explode within you once more, your hands moving once more to Andrew’s hair as he kissed you.

“Come for me, baby, come on, let me hear you again pet.” He moaned, pulling back slightly so he could see your face as you came undone below him. “So fuckin’ pretty, come on, love.”

You came under him not long after, pure pleasure flowing through you as your body shook with your orgasm. But Andrew didn’t stop, chasing his own release as his thrusts became even more irregular than before, and, just as you were starting to feel the overstimulation taking over, he came, releasing his spent into the condom and stopping his movements almost completely, savouring the feeling of your walls around him. He moaned loudly, his head going back slightly as his eyes closed and his jaw slacked, you grinned slightly, recognising his current expression as the same one he did when playing a more upbeat guitar solo.

After a few more seconds, you both calmed down, and Andrew leaned in to kiss you once more, slowly and lovingly this time. You kissed back, your bodies still entangled with each other as you savoured the afterglow of your lovemaking. Carefully, and despite how much neither of you wanted that, he pulled out of you, detaching himself from you so he could take off the condom and throw it out. “I’ll be back in a second, stay put.” He murmured before giving you a quick kiss and walking towards your bathroom.

He came back not long after with a damp washcloth in hand, cleaning you up slightly before helping you sit up on your bed. “I should go to the bathroom,” you pointed out.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “go on, I’ll wait here for you.”

You smiled lovingly, getting up and into the bathroom, coming out of it a few minutes later after refreshing yourself. You found Andrew laying on your bed, having put his boxers back on while you’d been washing up. He smiled at the sight of you, opening his arms for you to cuddle into, and that you did, crawling into your bed and hugging him tight. He played with your hair as you cuddled, talking about random things before you decided to be a bit cheeky. “Did you know you have the exact same face when playing guitar that you do when you cum?”

“Shut up,” he laughed, “…do I really?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it at least a nice face or do I look like an idiot?” His face reddened ever so slightly.

“I think it’s a very pretty face, just like your normal one.” You assured him honestly.

“Thank god.” He laughed again, holding you tighter to him. “Can I stay the night?” He added, a hint of uncertainty and pleading in his tone.

“You better stay.” You smiled, nuzzling your face into his chest.

Andrew smiled back, burying his face in your hair and taking in your scent.

[coryndoll]

lies for lunch

rafe cameron x reader

— in which y/n returns to her hometown, the outer banks, to work as ward cameron’s assistant at cameron development, but living under his roof for the summer leads to unexpected tension with his son, rafe.

warnings: animosity, rafes daddy issues, safe !!

authors note: for the sake of the story i need y/n or you or whatever to have a person of familiarity whos hung back in obx to act like you’ve known each other for years, SO U HAVE A FICTIONAL BROTHER 😭

for the past ten months, you’ve been working at cameron development, helping ward negotiate deals and obtain permits. it’s been almost like being his assistant through everything. what started as an internship turned into a full-time job with actual pay after all this time.

they were right—hard work and determination can really pay off. you just didn’t expect to get so lucky with how quickly things moved. after a series of private meetings where ward discussed traveling back to north carolina to work in his hometown, he suggested you come along.

the relationship isn’t weird or inappropriate. you’re one of the few employees ward genuinely appreciates, which is more than he can say about the burnouts that float through the company. since you’re from the outer banks yourself, ward thinks it makes sense to bring you along to continue working for him and the company for as long as possible.

but anyway, you’re absolutely thrilled to be back in the outer banks. it’s more than just a job opportunity—it’s a chance to reconnect with everything familiar, everything that’s been tugging at your heart since you left.

the occasional visits have been fine, enough to keep the homesickness at bay for a while, but that constant, quiet longing for the place you grew up never really goes away. but now? now you’re staying in obx for the summer. no more fleeting weekends, no more rushed goodbyes. you’ll have time to breathe, to soak it all in. to be home.

the airport air is still fresh in your lungs when you slide into the backseat of the car, your bags dumped beside you. before the door even clicks shut, your fingers are already scrolling through your contacts. there’s only one person you want to talk to right now—your brother.

“hey,” you say, stretching out the word, a grin tugging at your lips as you hear the familiar click of him picking up.

“hey,” comes his easy, laid-back reply, his voice filling the small space around you like it always does. like home. “did you land?”

you bounce slightly in your seat as the car hits a bump, your grip tightening on your phone for a second. “yeah,” you confirm, digging through your bag absentmindedly. “i’m about twenty minutes from figure 8, so i’ll be there around noon. are mom and dad home?”

there’s a slight pause on his end, the sound of him shifting around, probably sprawling lazily on the couch back home. “nah, they’re not,” he finally says. “i swung by to check, but i guess mom’s out at lunch with her friends, and dad’s working today.”

you let out an involuntary groan, the disappointment settling in your chest. of course, it would work out like this. “this is what i get for trying to surprise them.”

his voice comes back, laced with mild amusement. “it’s your fault for not announcing you’re coming a day earlier.”

he’s right, but you don’t want to admit it. instead, you plow forward. “look, can you at least call mom and ask if she can be home soon? ward wants me to head straight to him as soon as i land, but i really wanna stop by as soon as i can. i can’t be there later than two.”

on the other end, you can almost hear the exaggerated sigh that you know is coming. the kind that’s loaded with all the typical dramatics. he’s probably rolling his eyes too, even though you can’t see him. “yeah, yeah, whatever,” he mutters, clearly unable to resist playing up his irritation. “i’ll take care of it. just text me when you’re on your way. still can’t believe you’re working for wc.”

with that, the call ends abruptly, and you pull the phone away from your ear, blinking down at the screen in mild confusion. wc? who calls him wc? you furrow your brow, lips tugging into a slight frown as you shoot off a quick text to your brother.

‘ 1st, nobody calls him wc. and 2nd, what??? ’

your phone buzzes again. his reply is as cryptic as ever.

‘ just a coincidence that in ny u ended up working for someone from obx still. don’t u remember him growing up? ’

you stare at the message, trying to piece together what he’s talking about, until another text follows almost immediately.

‘ he has like 3 kids. rafe, sarah, wheezie. i saw rafe down at the pier a few weeks ago. we used to see them at parties when we were younger. ’

rafe? sarah? wheezie? none of those names ring a bell. you rack your brain, searching for some kind of recognition, but you come up empty. a soft laugh escapes you as you quickly type back, ‘idk who that is lmao sorry’ and lock your phone, leaning back in the seat with a sigh.

ward cameron has three kids. it’s a strange thing to realize, that the man you’ve been working for these past couple of years has an entire family you’ve never heard of. but then again, work was always work. personal details were rarely exchanged unless necessary. and now, you can’t help but think—would you meet them? would they be anything like ward?

your brother mentioned seeing one of them recently, so you can assume at least one of ward’s children still live here. you wonder if the rest do too.

your thoughts wander as the car turns down another road, bringing you closer to the heart of figure 8. it’s been a long time since you’ve been back here, long enough for some of the details to feel fuzzy, but the feeling of the place—that never changes. the salty air, the warmth of the sun filtering through the car windows, the sense of familiarity that sits low in your chest, almost like relief.

you try to imagine what the next few months will be like. working for ward in the outer banks is worlds apart from working for him in new york. for one, the pace is different—slower, more laid-back. and for another, you won’t be disappearing into a faceless crowd when the workday ends. you’ll be here, surrounded by people who might actually know your name. or at least remember your face.

the car slows down, the gravel beneath the tires crunching softly as you near the cameron estate.

“thank you!” you call out, waving as the driver pulls away, leaving you standing on the driveway with your bags at your feet. for a moment, you just stand there, taking it all in. the cameron house looms in front of you.

you bend down, grabbing the straps of your bags and hauling them up, careful not to drag them across the grass. even though this isn’t your home, there’s an odd comfort in the way it feels.

you’ve been here before—well, not here exactly, but close enough. working summer jobs in figure 8 as a teenager had given you a glimpse of this world. a world where you were always on the outside, always temporary. back then, you were just a girl from the cut, doing what you had to do to get by.

no one looked at you twice. but now? now you’re here for something more. wanted, even.

the thought of it makes your stomach twist with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. you adjust the weight of your bags on your shoulder and step up to the door, knocking firmly before dropping your things to the floor with a soft thud.

a small sigh of relief escapes your lips as you straighten up, rolling your shoulders to shake off the stiffness from the journey. you’ve been lugging these bags around for hours, and your arms are starting to feel like lead.

as you wait, you take a moment to fix your hair, fingers smoothing back stray strands that have fallen into your face. it’s only then that you hear a rustle in the bushes to your left. your heart skips a beat, and you freeze, mid-motion, your eyes flicking toward the sound. you stretch your neck slightly, peering over your shoulder, but there’s nothing. just silence. your pulse settles again, and you let out a quiet laugh at yourself.

the door suddenly swings open, and you drop your hands to your sides, your face breaking into a smile. standing in the doorway is a girl, and instantly, you’re struck by how put together she looks.

her long blonde hair cascades down her back, and she’s dressed in a cozy white knit sweater paired with shorts. it’s casual, effortless, but there’s something about it that screams figure 8 wealth. but what really catches your attention are her socks—brightly colored, with little monster faces peeking out from the tops.

you smile a little wider at the sight. you’re starting to like her already.

“hey, i’m y/n,” you introduce yourself, stepping forward and extending your hand.

“it’s so nice to meet you! i’m sarah,” she replies, her smile just as warm as she reaches out to shake your hand. her grip is firm but friendly, and before you know it, she’s ushering you inside with a wave of her hand. “come on in! my dad isn’t here right now, but i can actually show you to our guest room. it’s, like, right next to mine. it’s so homey. you’ll love it.”

her energy is almost overwhelming, but in a good way. she’s excited, and you can’t help but feel a little relieved.

“i mean, yeah, sure,” you say, bending down to grab your bags again. but before you can get a good grip, sarah is already stepping in to help, lifting one of the bags with ease. you follow her inside, the door clicking shut behind you as you enter the home.

it’s everything you expected and more—bright, airy, with high ceilings and tasteful decor. it’s the kind of place that feels almost untouchable, like something out of a magazine.

as you make your way toward the stairs, you can’t help but glance around, taking it all in. the house smells faintly of lemon and clean linens, and the soft hum of the air conditioner is the only sound that breaks the quiet. it’s beautiful, but it’s also a little intimidating.

“so, is there anyone else home that i should worry about if i, like, wanted to shower?” you ask as you follow sarah up the steps.

sarah shoots you a smile over her shoulder as she leads the way. “i think you’re good. my brother and sister are here, but they won’t bother you. wheezie’s doing her homework, and rafe . . . well, he’s probably not even home.”

her tone is casual, like she’s talking about the weather, but you can’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity. you remember your brother mentioning a rafe in his text earlier, but the name still doesn’t mean much to you. maybe you’ll meet him later, maybe not. either way, it’s not something you’re too concerned about right now.

you reach the guest room door, and sarah twists the knob, pushing it open with a flourish. “here! this is your room for the summer.”

you step inside, and your breath catches in your throat. it’s . . . gorgeous. simple, but elegant, with soft cream-colored walls and wide windows that let in streams of natural light. the bed is large, with crisp white sheets that look impossibly inviting, and there’s a small sitting area in the corner with a plush chair and a side table. it’s more than you ever expected.

“wow,” you breathe, your eyes sweeping over the room. “this is . . . really nice.”

sarah grins, setting your bag down on the chair. “told you! if you’re gonna shower, i’ll leave you to it. but if you need anything, my room’s right next to yours.” she gestures vaguely toward the door. “the bathroom’s across the hall from mine. my dad will probably be home in, like, half an hour? him and rose just ran out to do something before you got here.”

you nod, but your mind snags on the name—rose. ward’s wife. it’s funny, now that you think about it, how little you actually know about ward’s personal life. you’ve worked with him for years, but he’s always kept things strictly professional. it’s only now, standing in his home, that you’re realizing just how much of his life is a mystery to you.

sarah gives you one last smile before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind her. and just like that, you’re alone. you let out a long, slow breath, your fingers absentmindedly twisting the rings on your fingers as you take a moment to center yourself. it feels surreal, being here. like stepping into someone else’s life for a while.

you cross the room and pull back the curtains, revealing a stunning view of the island and for a moment, all your worries melt away. it’s beautiful here. peaceful. maybe this summer won’t be so bad after all.

you grab your bathroom bag and a fresh set of clothes, the weight of the morning starting to press on your shoulders as you make your way to the bathroom. you pause outside the door, hearing the muffled laughter of sarah and wheezie from across the hall.

their lighthearted chatter pulls a soft smile onto your lips, a sense of warmth in this house. it's comforting, in a strange way, to be surrounded by family—even if it's not your own.

the bathroom is sleek, modern, almost too luxurious compared to what you're used to. you lock the door behind you and let out a long, relieved breath. the hot water feels like an escape, like it's rinsing away the tension of the trip, the awkwardness of being in someone else’s home, and the nerves tangled in your chest about what comes next.

as the minutes pass, you try to calm the buzz in your mind. you know you need to hurry—the last thing you want is to be caught mid-shower when ward and rose return. you quickly towel off, pulling on your new clothes with an urgency that betrays your attempt to stay calm.

you grab your bag off the counter, unlock the bathroom door, and step back into the hallway. as you cross toward your room, you stop abruptly. there, by the door, are three guys, clearly in the middle of something. confusion furrows your brow—who are they? why are they here?

one of them has his back to you, looking into the room, while the others glance in your direction, the closest one nudging the other to signal your arrival. great. more people.

the one in the doorway catches your eye. his hand is rubbing his jaw, his stance casual, like he owns the place. for all you know, he does. his other hand is stuffed in his pocket, his expression unreadable as he turns toward you.

you can feel the weight of their stares, but you offer a polite smile, trying to act unbothered even though you feel a little out of place. honestly, the house is big enough for all of them, and you're too new to figure out who’s who just yet. you’re not even sure who lives here or if they’re just guests like you.

before any introductions can be made, ward’s voice booms from the front of the house, pulling you from the awkwardness of the moment. “is she here?”

you move past the tall boy, dropping your bag off in the guest room, and make your way downstairs. your heart leaps when you spot ward and rose. the grin that stretches across your face feels genuine, a relief after navigating the uncertainty of the last few hours.

“hey,” you say, stepping off the last stair to shake their hands. “thank you for letting me stay in your home, by the way. i met sarah. she’s great.”

ward gives you a friendly nod, his demeanor warm but business-like—he's already familiar with your work ethic and you know that he expects the same here.

“yeah, wait ‘til you meet rafe and wheezie, though,” he says, glancing at rose, who’s already inching away, clearly not interested in small talk, and it stings more than you’d care to admit. but you brush it off, focusing on the fact that you’re here for work, not approval.

“did sarah show you your room?” ward asks, guiding you toward the kitchen.

“yeah, she did!” you nod, falling into step beside him. “it’s really nice. i also used the shower, honestly. also super nice.”

he chuckles lightly, gesturing to the open space around you. “help yourself to anything while you're here. bathrooms, the kitchen, the living room—whatever you need as long as you're working with me here.”

when you reach the kitchen, ward turns to face you, and you're about to answer his question when the boys from earlier walk in, their presence shifting the energy in the room.

the tall one—who you now realize must be rafe—moves with an air of familiarity, heading straight for the fridge without so much as a glance your way, though his friends have sprawled out on the couch nearby, keeping half an eye on the situation.

“you grew up here?” rafe asks, pulling something from the fridge with a nonchalance that borders on arrogance. his tone isn’t rude, exactly, but there’s a challenge in his words, like he’s testing you.

you shift your weight slightly, feeling his attention on you now. “yeah, i did.”

“humor me,” he says before his father can talk, smirking as he continues, “figure 8 or the cut?"

there it is—the divide. figure 8, the land of privilege and wealth, versus the cut, where people like you are from. it's a question loaded with judgment, but you stand your ground.

you hesitate, unsure whether to entertain your boss’s son. “that’s . . .” you begin saying, noticing the small hint of a smile on his lips as he twists the bottle cap off. “i lived in the cut.”

ward quickly steps in, raising a hand to ease the tension. “y/n,” he says, using your name in a way that reminds you you’re under his wing here. “you don’t have to answer his questions.”

there’s a quiet pause before he officially introduces rafe, confirming what you already suspected. “this is rafe,” he says, nodding toward his son, who watches you intently. ward pauses as he brushed over it quickly, “and his friends,” like he doesn’t want to say it.

you give a small wave in return, feeling the awkwardness creep back in. you’re not sure what to make of the boys yet, but the dynamic between them feels . . . off. guarded. like there’s more going on than meets the eye.

ward claps his hands together, breaking the silence. “time for lunch. rafe, can you please tell sarah and wheezie to come down?” he asks, already heading toward the patio doors. “y/n, feel free to find a seat at the table.”

you murmur an ‘okay’ and follow ward outside, the breeze hitting your face as you step onto the patio. you take a moment to scan the setup, unsure where to sit, but ward motions for you to pick any spot. the table looks inviting, the outdoor space just as luxurious as the inside. it’s surreal, really, being here—like stepping into a different world entirely.

the table outside is a lavish spread, every dish meticulously placed as though the meal is a display of the cameron family's status. some of the food is freshly prepared, you can tell by the steam rising from the platters, while other dishes have clearly been delivered, probably from some upscale restaurant.

everything is pristine, almost too perfect for a casual lunch, but you remind yourself this isn’t just any ordinary lunch. this is a welcome—to ward’s world, to his home, and into the lives of the camerons.

this lunch wasn't really about you, though. it’s more of a formality for ward’s return to north carolina.

as you sit at the table, alone for now, your gaze drifts to the patio, the large windows giving you a glimpse into the house. your thoughts wander to art, and you can almost hear his voice in your head—his dry humor, his sarcastic quips. he’d love this, probably have a million things to say about the whole setup.

the camerons, so far, seem nice. well, most of them. sarah is definitely the easiest to get along with, the type of person you instantly feel comfortable around. but rose? you're not even sure she’ll show up for lunch. and rafe . . . you’re still figuring him out. there’s something about him, something unreadable that leaves you on edge.

as your eyes sweep around the room inside, they land on rafe. he's with his friends, the same group from earlier, laughing and talking like they don’t have a care in the world. there’s an ease about him when he’s with them, like he’s more at home in their company than anywhere else.

you can’t quite put your finger on it, but something about him feels . . . dangerous? no, maybe not dangerous, but unpredictable. like he could switch from charming to something much darker in the blink of an eye.

and then it happens—he looks at you. directly at you, like he knows you’ve been watching him. the way he smiles is almost smug, as if he’s aware of the effect he has on people, on you. your heart does a small flip, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze.

then, just as quickly, he says something to his friends, who erupt into laughter, and you feel the uncomfortable prick of self-consciousness. are they laughing at you? god, you hope not. the last thing you need is to be the butt of some joke you don’t understand.

you pull your focus away, trying to ignore the warmth creeping into your cheeks, and you shift in your chair, suddenly too aware of how out of place you feel. this isn’t your world, not yet at least. you’re still figuring out the rules, where you stand, who you can trust. it's like being in a play without knowing your lines.

“i know my kids are going to be a handful when they’re all together, so . . . be prepared for that,” ward’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you turn slightly to glance over your shoulder at him. there’s a warmth to his tone, something almost paternal. “but they’re good.”

you force a small smile and nod, though you’re not sure how much you believe him. you have a feeling ‘good’ might mean different things in the cameron household.

“you’re a year or two older than sarah,” he continues, and you turn back to face the table, focusing on the clean lines of the polished wood, the way the sunlight catches on the glassware. “you’re not that far off in age with rafe, either. sarah’s probably going to be your best friend. she can’t help it.”

there’s a lightness in his voice, and you get the sense that sarah is the glue that holds this family together, the one everyone relies on to keep things civil. “but rafe . . . he’ll warm up to you.”

will he? you can’t help the slight lift of your brows, amusement flickering in your expression as you consider his words. you don’t agree, but you can’t say that. something about rafe feels like he’s not the type to easily ‘warm up’ to anyone, especially someone like you—an outsider stepping into his territory.

“yeah,” you murmur, your tone filled with doubt, “i’m sure of it.”

the cameron family finally gathers at the long, polished table outside, sunlight filtering through the trees and casting dappled patterns across the plates. you take in the scene quietly as everyone finds their places, the quiet shuffle of chairs pulling out, scraping slightly against the patio stones.

it’s a family affair, but rafe’s friends have tagged along—an addition that seems unsanctioned by ward but tolerated nonetheless. ward positions himself at one head of the table, with you and sarah flanking either side of him like you’re all part of some carefully orchestrated tableau.

rafe is at the opposite end, far enough that the distance feels intentional, deliberate. you can’t help but notice how he’s checked out, his gaze drifting, uninterested. to your right, one of his friends, the blond one, settles beside you, and his presence feels awkward, like he’s trying to take up as little space as possible, aware of the invisible tension in the air.

on the other side of him, the other friend sits, both of them quiet for now. down sarah’s side, wheezie sits next to her sister, then rafe at the very end. the empty chair beside wheezie feels like a gap. technically it’s rose’s chair if she were to have changed her mind.

“so what are you?” wheezie asks, breaking the initial silence, and you can see sarah’s immediate reaction, the quick glance she shoots her sister, a mild scolding in her eyes.

the phrasing is blunt, too blunt, but then again, wheezie is a kid—still learning the art of conversation, still figuring out the way words land.

before you can answer, ward steps in, his voice calm but authoritative. “y/n is my assistant,” he says, filling in the blank you hadn’t yet decided how to describe. you pause mid-chew, a small bite of food lingering on your tongue as you listen to him explain. “she’ll be working with me here in north carolina for cameron development over the next few months.”

you nod slightly, not sure how to react to being discussed like you’re not there. you’ve been in situations like this before, professionally at least, but it feels different now, being talked about in front of his family. a piece of you wants to assert yourself, to explain your role in your own words, but it feels like there’s no room for that right now. so, you stay quiet.

“that’s cool,” sarah says, her voice warm and genuine as she glances over at you, a small, encouraging smile on her face. she seems like the type who would get along with almost anyone, a natural mediator. “what do you do? as his assistant and all.”

from the corner of your eye, you catch rafe’s subtle shift, his gaze flicking toward sarah, his expression sharp for a moment, like he’s not interested in this conversation but is still somehow annoyed by it. you wonder what’s behind that look, what tension simmers under the surface.

you swallow and clear your throat, aware that everyone’s waiting for your answer now. “uh, yeah,” you start, your voice sounding more casual than you intend, like you’re trying to downplay your actual responsibilities.

“your dad has his job—he oversees the projects, handles the big picture stuff. i come along when he needs help with negotiating contracts and leases, hiring architects, engineers, contractors, all that. i also scout available land for potential developments.” you pause, glancing around the table. “just stuff like that.”

there’s a moment of silence, and for a second, you think maybe your explanation was enough. but then, like a crack in the veneer, rafe speaks, almost mockingly, “do you also get him coffee whenever he asks? do you fuck him, too?”

his words hit like a punch, unexpected and crude, cutting through the air with a kind of reckless confidence that leaves you momentarily stunned. for a second, the table feels frozen, like no one’s quite sure how to react.

the blond boy next to you nearly chokes on his food, a strangled half-laugh escaping before he catches himself, suddenly aware that rafe’s comment shouldn’t be funny.

your stomach twists, a flush of heat creeping up your neck as you force yourself to stay composed, staring straight at rafe from across the table. his gaze is fixed on you, unflinching, like he’s testing you, waiting to see how you’ll respond.

it’s infuriating—the audacity of it, the way he tosses out the insult so casually, like it’s no big deal.

ward sets his fork down with a soft clink against the plate, his fingers intertwining as he leans forward slightly. the tension shifts, thickening around the table, and you can feel every set of eyes on you, but your focus remains on rafe.

“rafe,” ward’s voice is calm, measured, but there’s a warning in it. and yet, rafe doesn’t look away, doesn’t flinch. he stays locked onto you, like you’re locked in some kind of silent standoff, and part of you wonders what he’s trying to prove.

after a beat of silence, ward adds, “can i talk to you inside the house?” it’s not really a question, more of a command, and finally, rafe moves. slowly, he pulls the napkin from his lap, tossing it onto the table before rising from his seat.

ward turns to you, his expression softening into something apologetic, and you nod slightly, acknowledging his silent apology even though you’re not sure what to do with it. as they disappear inside, the tension lingers, heavy and uncomfortable.

you force yourself to take another bite of food, though it feels like chewing cardboard. the uneasy feeling coils tighter in your chest. this is off to a rocky start, to say the least. sarah and wheezie seem fine, but rafe . . . rafe’s going to be a problem.

sarah reaches across the table, her hand brushing lightly against yours, and you glance up to meet her eyes. there’s sincerity in her expression, a quiet kind of empathy. “i’m so sorry for him,” she says softly. “rafe has a tendency to act like an idiot on a daily basis. don’t let anything he says get to you.”

before you can respond, the blond boy—topper, you think—finally speaks, his voice quiet but carrying a hint of amusement. “he doesn’t have a tendency to act like an idiot every day,” he says, shaking his head slightly as he takes another bite of food, a small smile playing on his lips. it’s the first thing he’s said to you directly, and the casualness of it surprises you.

“oh, he absolutely does,” sarah retorts with a light laugh. “and i’m sure you get yours from him.” she turns to you, smiling again. “y/n, this is topper and kelce, if you hadn’t already been introduced.”

before you can say anything, wheezie pipes up quickly, almost as if she’s sharing a secret, “sarah and topper used to date.” her voice is soft, but the reaction from sarah and topper is immediate—they both look over at her, like this was something she wasn’t supposed to say out loud.

“what?” wheezie says, glancing around the table innocently.

you can’t help but smile at the sibling dynamics playing out in front of you. it reminds you of your own relationship with your brother, the way siblings know each other’s secrets, their histories, the things that outsiders wouldn’t catch unless they were paying attention. in this brief moment, amidst the tension, you find a sliver of familiarity, of something you recognize.

you pull your napkin off your lap, rising from your seat, feeling the tension still clinging to your skin like humidity. you adjust your clothes, smoothing down fabric that doesn’t need smoothing, but it gives your hands something to do.

“where’s the nearest bathroom inside?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but you can feel the strain in your voice, the way your words almost trip over themselves.

“once you’re in the kitchen, it should be the door in the hallway if you just keep walking straight,” sarah tells you, offering a small smile. you nod in response, forcing yourself to return the gesture, though it feels hollow.

you step away from the table, and sarah seizes the moment to nudge wheezie, probably to scold her for spilling her relationship drama with topper.

as you make your way toward the bathroom, your steps slow. it’s not like you really need to go. you glance behind, making sure no one’s paying attention, before diverting your path to the front door instead. the knot in your stomach tightens with every step.

the front door is slightly ajar, and through the opening, you spot rafe. he’s leaning back in a chair on the porch, his head tilted toward the sky as if it’s the only thing he can stand to look at.

ward’s standing near him, mid-conversation, and their voices pull you in, despite knowing you shouldn’t eavesdrop. you lean against the doorframe, just out of sight, your heartbeat quickening.

“you didn't have to fly out some girl that works at the company just because she’s doing good,” rafe says, lifting his head from the chair, his voice tinged with frustration, like he’s been holding it in for too long. “i could've taken the job, especially because i’m already here.”

there’s bitterness in his words, but beneath that, you catch something else—something raw. rafe’s trying to understand why he’s being left out, why he’s not the one ward trusts.

“exactly, rafe,” ward replies, his tone firmer than before. “you're twenty-one and you’re still here. she’s twenty and she's been working with me for nearly two years. don’t you think that says something?”

his words land heavily, and for a moment, there’s silence. you feel the weight of the comparison ward’s making, and it sinks into you too, even though it shouldn’t. rafe chuckles, standing up, but it’s not out of amusement. it’s a defense mechanism, a way to shield himself from whatever hurt ward’s words are causing.

“y/n is here because she’s good at what she does,” ward continues, his voice steadier now, trying to end the conversation.

“alright, dad,” rafe says, nodding, but his expression betrays his words. “let's say i believe that—because i don’t—why am i not in her place?”

ward sighs, shaking his head like he doesn’t understand how rafe isn’t getting it. “rafe, think about what kind of job she has. how could i trust you with that?”

the words sting, and even though they aren’t directed at you, you feel a strange sense of guilt crawling under your skin. you know you’ve earned your place, worked hard for it. but hearing it spelled out like this, in such a stark contrast to rafe, it makes you feel . . . uncomfortable.

rafe rubs his chin, his fingers brushing against the stubble there. he doesn’t say anything, just nods like he’s processing it all, or maybe pretending to. he turns to head back inside.

and that’s when he sees you, standing there, caught in the act of listening.

his eyes lock onto yours, and for a second, you don’t know what to do. your throat tightens, but you force yourself to keep your head high. you can’t apologize. you don’t need to. this is your job, after all, the one you’ve worked damn hard for.

still, the silence stretches between you, heavy and uncomfortable. rafe doesn’t say anything, just turns away, walking back out toward the patio. you exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath. the knot in your stomach only tightens as you push yourself off the doorframe and head toward the bathroom, your footsteps almost echoing in the stillness of the hallway.

you stop in front of the bathroom door, staring at it like it might hold some answers you don’t have. your hand reaches for the knob, your fingers curling around it, but you don’t turn it. instead, you stand there, replaying the conversation in your head, trying to make sense of what you’ve just heard. rafe’s resentment, ward’s trust in you—it’s a lot to take in, and you wonder if you’re supposed to feel . . . what? proud? guilty? it’s hard to pin down.

before you can figure it out, you hear footsteps approaching. your hand drops from the doorknob just as ward’s voice reaches you.

“hey,” he says, his tone softer now, though there’s still an edge of frustration lingering there, probably from his conversation with rafe. “you and the girls getting along good?”

you plaster on a smile, nodding even though your thoughts are still tangled from the scene outside. “yeah, we’re good.”

ward mutters a small ‘good, good’ as he walks past you, heading back to the patio. you watch him go, your arms crossing over your chest as if that’ll hold you together. you follow behind him slowly, a quiet unease settling in your chest. this family, with all its complications, feels like a storm you’ve just walked into.

and then there’s rafe. if he already resents you, you can only imagine how his friends—topper and kelce—will react. boys like them, they stick together, and you know that dynamic all too well. the chances of them giving you a fair shot seem slim.

you brace yourself as you step back outside, a small sigh slipping past your lips. this job, this place—it’s not going to be easy. but nothing worth it ever is, right?

“so you're from the outer banks?” sarah asks as soon as you sit back down. there’s an edge to her voice, like she’s making an effort to seem casual but is still trying to figure you out. you can’t blame her. she’s probably just trying to get a feel for who you are, maybe ease the tension that’s been hanging in the air since you got here.

“where from?” she adds, glancing at you over the rim of her glass.

you pause, fork hovering just above your plate, feeling a flicker of unease. it’s a simple enough question, but you can already feel the weight of your answer.

“near quinton,” you say, cutting into your food with deliberate care, keeping your tone light. “a little south.”

you don’t look up as you speak, focusing on the neat little slices you’re making in your lunch, as if perfecting that action could keep the conversation from slipping into uncomfortable territory.

“i’m surprised we haven’t met before today,” you continue, the lie slipping out so smoothly you almost believe it yourself. “my friends and i knew just about everyone before i left the island.”

but the truth sits heavily in your stomach. you don’t know them. sure, your brother mentioned that your families had crossed paths when you were younger, but the memories never stuck. whatever brief moments there were, they’ve faded into the backdrop of your childhood.

rafe, however, doesn’t let your words slide by as easily. he latches onto them like a dog with a bone, straightening in his seat, eyes gleaming with interest.

“your friends?” his voice cuts through the air, almost too eager, too sharp. it’s like he’s waiting for you to say something wrong, give him an opening to tear into you. sarah watches him warily, her eyes flicking between you and her brother. she’s looking for help—maybe from her dad—but the tension is palpable, thickening by the second.

your phone buzzes in your back pocket, and the vibration pulls you from the uncomfortable scrutiny rafe’s casting in your direction.

“who do you know here?” he presses, and his tone is challenging now, like he’s daring you to prove something to him. to justify your place here, in this house, at this table.

you lift your gaze then, meeting his eyes with a steady look, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. but there’s something in the way he’s staring at you that makes your skin crawl, like he’s already made up his mind about you, about what kind of person you are.

it’s fucking exhausting.

“hate to interrupt you, ray,” you say, letting a mocking lilt creep into your voice as you rise from your seat. you keep your movements controlled, measured, not too rushed. “but i have a phone call.”

you pull your phone from your pocket, waving it slightly, feeling a small rush of satisfaction when rafe’s jaw clenches ever so slightly. “let me just take that really quick so we can continue our conversation.”

you don’t wait for his response, because you know whatever he says will just add to the irritation simmering beneath your skin. as you step out of the way, you hear him mutter, “it’s rafe,” under his breath, like correcting you is somehow important to him.

“it’s actually my brother!” you whisper-yell back, flashing the screen of your phone in his direction, making sure he sees the call.

as you walk away, you feel the tension ease just slightly, but it’s still there, humming beneath the surface. this place—figure eight, tannyhill—it’s like a tangled web, and you’ve just stepped into it, with people like rafe already ready to watch you stumble.

you press your phone to your ear as you step out of the patio and into the cool air of the home, and you try to calm yourself, leaning against the wall as your brother’s voice greets you on the other end.

you know you’ll have to go back in there, face rafe again, but for now, you allow yourself a brief moment to breathe.

considering making this a few-part series (maybe) !! let me know if you’d be interested thru replies, anons, or dms <3

@tiaamberxx

[lovifie]

Hey there Lovifie.

I hate to bother you but can I ask for a request?

You see the thing is that I’ve been having a few bad weeks lately and the news I got today just really pushed me to the point that I can’t stop crying now.

Long story short, I’ve applied again for another promotion within my department for my job; this would be the third time I’ve tried for one and for the third time I was passed over for someone else. I honestly don’t know what I’m doing wrong; why they're not choosing me. I’m doing everything they’re asking for, going above & beyond for them and more but apparently it’s just not good enough for them. I just don’t know what else I can do.

Now I feel like I’m not good enough for anything; I'm confused and it hurts. Can I please request a comfort fic of John Price or Poly141 comforting a curvy, Mexican female reader who just feels like she's not good? Please? 🙏🏽 💔

My dear, you are never ever a bother. I’m really sorry to hear you have been having the last couple of shitty weeks, I sent you a message before and I hope this cheers you up a bit and everyone that may be having a rough time 🩷

I did it with poly141 because if we are looking for comfort we are going all out!!

The boys are back home and you know it, they got home last week, spending most of the time together, bathing in each other comforting proximity, helping them decompress after their deployment. 

You didn't tell them about what was troubling your mind, they already have enough on their plate and you didn't want to bother them. Or that's what you thought it would be, a bother. 

That's why you are standing before the door, knowing you have to enter but trying to recollect your feelings to be able to portray a happy face when you finally open the door. 

But the door opens before you want it to, Simon's brown eyes staring at you. “What are you doing, lovie? The motion camera is going nuts…” he trails off, looking at how you try your hardest to look fine. “Everything alright?”

You quickly nod, walking past him, kissing his cheek standing on your tip toes. “Yeah, all good. Was trying to remember where I put my keys.” You laugh, thinking that it is believable as you enter. He doesn't buy it but chooses to stay quiet. You will talk when you need it. 

You leave your bag on the floor next to the door, taking off your shoes and Simon helps you take off your jacket, hanging it on the hook next to Johnny's. “How was work?”

“Horrible.” You think, but instead, you sight and murmur. “Tiring.”

“Did I hear somebody say they are tired?” Johnny's voice beams in the room when he walks to you like a happy puppy, hugging you from behind and hiding his face on your neck. You move your hand back to pet the back of his head. “You tired, mami?”

You nod, with a smile on your face. Closing your eyes when he kisses your cheek squishing your face with his. “Then eat dinner and straight to bed.”

“No shower?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Nah, you are still clean for a couple more days. Right. Or are you stinky?” He says, moving his head back with a confused expression on his face, only for him to hide his face again in your neck making you chuckle when he sniffs your smell dramatically hard. “Yeah, not stinky.” 

He pats your butt, as in signing the deal that you don't need to shower and you smile shaking your head. 

His silliness is almost enough to make you forget the hardness of your day. Almost. 

“Is she home?!” Kyle's voice sounds from the kitchen and you follow his voice like a moth to the light. Hearing Simon tell Johnny to go shower his stinky self, making him whine. 

“Hi, Riri.” You say, using the nickname he hates so much. 

He groans, scrunching his face at you making you laugh. “I'm not Rihanna, love.”

“Hm, but you sound just like her when you shower.” You say hugging him from behind, he is standing in front of the stove, taking care of dinner. Some kind of pasta getting boiled while he works on the sauce on the pan right in front of you. 

So close to it, that when Kyle moves, threatening to tickle you for teasing him, you move your arm to shield yourself. But your forearm crashes with the pan, making it fall and burning you in the process. 

Kyle manages to catch it by the handle just in time before burning himself or spilling it all over the floor. He turns off both of the stoves, to make sure nothing burns while he checks on you. 

“You alright, love? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stood so close.” He says, but your eyes are glued to the spot of sauce on the ground. Almost nothing fell from the pan, barely enough to fill half a glass. 

But the thought in your mind makes you write it at the top of the list of things you have fuck up. And it makes your eyes tear up with the feeling of simply not being good enough.

“Sunshine.” Kyle calls you, cupping your face so you will look at him but his eyes follow you, seeing the sauce on the ground. “Hey, hey, it's okay.”

“I'm sorry.” Your voice cracks making you inhale to try and calm yourself down. “I'm sorry, Kyle.”

“Hey, what happened to Riri?” He asks with a kind smile on his face. “Don't apologise, love. It's okay, there is more sauce stuck to the spoon than on the floor, love. No problem, alright? Everything is fi- you are burnt!”

He cuts himself off when he sees your skin red with the burnt, he grabs your wrist pulling you to the sink to move your arm under running cold water. “I'm sorry, love. Poor baby…”

“Hi, mami.” Price says entering the kitchen, he must have just come out of the bathroom. Possibly kicked out by Johnny, because he enters the kitchen only wearing his pyjama pants, hair still moist. You look at him, eyes wet with tears making him furrow his eyebrows in worry. “What happened?”

“Little cooking accident, nothing to worry about.” Kyle answers, rubbing circles on your hand still under the water with his thumb. “Can you pass the mop, please?” Kyle asks, pointing with his face to the sauce on the floor. 

“I'll do it.” You say, trying to pull your hand from Kyle's grasp. “I spilt it, I'll clean it.”

“Nonsense, you and I are bothering Johnny to grab the burns cream from the bathroom. Let's go, we might see his bubble butt if we are lucky.” Kyle jokes, winking at you, trying to get you to smile. 

But you are already too deep in your own thoughts to do so, you sigh, rubbing your eyes at the sting of your tears and shaking your head. “I'm fine, I'm just… I'm just going to go to bed.”

“Without eating?” Simon walks into the doorframe, handing the mop to Price who cleans the floor keeping an eye on you. “Are you grounding yourself or what, love?”

And you try your best to not cry, to hold it in, at least until you are in your room, with your privacy to cry yourself to sleep. But then Johnny also walks in, talking about if anyone knows where his towel is; and his blue eyes catch yours, shining with worry when he sees your tears.

“What happened?” He asks, repeating Price's words without knowing it. 

You look at them, the four pairs of eyes looking at you, expecting an explanation, worry and curiosity clear on them. And it only makes your eyes sting more with a new batch of tears that easily roll down your cheeks. 

It makes you cover your face with your hands, sobbing softly against your palm. One of them hugs you, pressing you against his body and you know it's Price for the warmth emanating from his naked torso. 

“Let's go to the living room, the kitchen is too small for five people.” Simon comments, his hand resting on the small of your back, caressing comforting circles on it. 

When you don't move, Price moves his hands under your armpits, raising you to hold onto him like a koala. Crying on his strong shoulder like a baby, a big baby.

He sits down on the sofa, moving you so you are sitting on his lap sideways, your face still hidden on his neck. You feel everyone else find their place around the two of you. Kyle is sitting next to Price on the sofa, your feet resting on his lap, his warm hand resting on your calf under your trouser warming you up. Johnny is sitting on the armrest of the sofa, his hand resting on your ribs, moving up and down as well, moving slowly to help you breathe slower. And Simon is kneeling on the floor behind the sofa, one arm bendt on the backrest of the sofa to lean his head on it and the other hand petting your head, brushing your hair. 

But no matter how comforting his touches are at the moment, the door holding the tears in has been opened and they are rolling freely down your face into Price's exposed shoulder. 

It's long after that, that you manage to breathe normally again. Still hiccuping but now oxygen getting to your lungs. 

Simon is the first that you look up, moving your hand from Price's shoulder to grab Simon's finger, the man curling his finger pulling your hand to his. A soft smile on his face. “Hey, pretty girl.”

Price looks over your shoulder, using his thumbs to dry the tears from your face, kissing your cheek. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks, the only answer he gets from you is in the way of shrugged shoulders. 

Simon stands behind you, letting your hand fall onto Kyle's and groaning when his knees pop as he stands up. He sits on the opposite armrest from Johnny, next to Kyle and looks at your face when Price moves you lower so you are resting your face on his chest. 

“What's wrong, love?” Price asks looking at you, his hand petting your thigh. 

“I… I just keep fucking everything up…” You admit, voice tiny, afraid that if you speak any louder the tears will return. “I ruined dinner, I ruined tonight, I ruined everything…”

“What are you talking about?” Johnny asks behind you. “You haven't ruined anything, lass. Everything is right.”

“Surprisingly, Johnny's right, love.” Gaz says, Johnny making an offended noise behind you. “Nothing is ruined, love…”

“Did something happen at work today?” Simon asks, regretting the moment you lock eyes with him and your eyes glisten with tears. 

You nod again, melting into Price's arms. “We are proud of you, you know that right?” Price says, making you sob again. “We were proud before today, we will be proud tomorrow, we were proud of you weeks ago and we will be even more proud of you in the future.”

“You don't even know what happened…” you sniffle, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. 

“We don't need to.” Johnny says. “We know you. And we know that you always try your best, that you work your ass off and that you are a bloody good worker, love.”

“Yeah, I just need to make my boss see it too.” You mumble, sadness being replaced by annoyance. 

“We can always murder him.” Simon says, earning himself a group groan of his name. “I'm just saying.”

“What Simon's trying to say.” Price says, turning to you again. “Is that if all four of us can see it… he will eventually see it too.”

“Yeah, it's his fault he is so stupid it's taking him so long.” Gaz says, smile on his face.

“But I'm tired of it…” You admit, pout on your face as you lean your head back onto Johnny, the man resting his hand on your face, caressing your cheek. 

“That's normal, love… How about we take care of you, him?” Johnny asks, making you look at him. “Let's have dinner, then you and I take a stinky bath, and then… a movie? Some cuddles? Sounds good?”

You nod before answering. “Yeah… sounds really good.” 

All of them but Price stand up at your words. “Dinner time it is, boys.” Gaz says, walking into the kitchen as Johnny and Simon set up the table.

“Should we help them?” You ask Price, looking over his shoulder. 

“Nah, they can themselves.” He answers, cupping your face to give you a peck on your lips. “You are amazing, love… don't forget it, alright? You are more important than your job, a promotion or anything going on, alright? We love you, cariño.” He says, accentuating the “r” to make you smile.

And later, when you are sitting down with the four of them at the table, the only thing you can think about is about how lucky you are.

[morgluvsconnie]

VOW, a.arlert

↜ CHAP.2 / humiliation , language / CHAP.3

A/N / SORRY for the wait i was figuring out a buncha tingz butttt here u go, this is kinda short??? but it’s like tensional so…? ENJOY BB

“who the new girl?”

a grey haired guy said, looking back at you and sasha. he sat in a bean bag across from a brown haired guy who was doing the same.

then there was eren and ony, who were too focused on whatever game they were playing on the console to care about you and sasha walking in. they were also the only ones you knew, their names, to be exact.

“don’t be fuckin rude, connie.” sasha rolled her eyes, grabbing a drink from the cooler and tossing you one. “this is y/n, my friend.”

there was another girl that sat in erens lap who looked back at you for a few seconds before letting out a small laugh and looking back at the big screen.

“wassup.” connie glanced at you once more before scoffing at sasha.

“she’s in our group now.” sasha shrugged, plopping down on a couch beside who you figured was armin. you sat on the other side of sasha awkwardly, sipping your margarita.

“we don’t need new people, sasha.” you heard mikasa from erens lap. you quirked a brow and looked at sasha, internally asking her ‘why?’

“she’s kidding.” you mumbled back after a long silence of everyone awkwardly looking at you.

mikasa once again, looked at you with her mouth parted a little like she was gonna say something, but eren squeezing her thigh a little made her be quiet.

looking at sasha once more, who just gave you a reassuring pat on the back, you sat back and crossed your arms, your drink still in your hand.

“mikasa, stop bein rude.” the blonde guy, you’d forgotten all about, said from beside you as he noticed the uncomfortable look on your face. mikasa stayed quiet and shook her head without turning back around.

what a way to greet a new friend.

“she just mad because eren was talking to somebody else.” that brown haired guy said, mikasa shot him a rude glare and rolled her eyes.

eren only scoffed with a small smile, rubbing mikasas waist.

‘what a dick dummy’ you thought to yourself, squinting at the way eren didn’t even try to defend himself. and the way she didn’t care.

“sorry about them, they’re fuckin stupid.” armin looked at you, holding out his hand. “armin.”

you shook his hand, “y/n,” you replied while looking back at him. “basketball team, right?” you tilted your head. armin only laughed a little, shifting on the couch and putting his arm on the head rest behind you.

“yeah, sum like that.” he looked at eren.

eren glanced back at him, slowly shaking his head and smiling.

“right.” you looked back down at your phone, playing with it as it rested on your lap.

armin looked at you for a moment before taking his arm off of the head rest and clearing his throat. “so…” he trailed off, trying to think of what to say.

“cant hold a conversation?”

“it’s hard.”

“ironic.”

“how?”

you looked at armin for a second. “no basketball player at this school struggles holding a conversation. just you.” you teased a little.

armin rolled his eyes and laughed softly.

“nah, i only talk to people i like.”

he paused. “as a friend.”

“so we’re friends.” you said, a semi impressed look on your face.

armin smiled a little with a smug shrug. “maybe.”

you slowly nodded with raised brows. “funny.”

“are we?”

“sure.”

armin turned towards you a little. “okay. how come i never see you nowhere?”

you looked up to think. “i… don’t talk to people. like crowds and stuff, i’m by myself most of the time so.” you shrugged, not wanting to sound corny.

you then continued, “even sasha had to convince me to come here. and you see where that led me, shit.” you glanced over to mikasa.

armin shook his head. “she acts like that all the time, ain’t nothing wrong for real.”

you scoffed. “right. just bad vibes for no reason, right?”

“that’s wit everybody.” armin looked at mikasa, slowly shaking his head. “but she been through some shit so you can’t hold that against her.”

you looked to the side, not wanting to hear that average excuse.

armin, who’d immediately noticed your quietness, caught onto that and decided to stop talking about it.

“but why talk about other people when it’s us talking?”

you nodded with a small smile. “okay, what made you look at me earlier?” you asked with genuine interest. “like, i know sometimes people just scan classrooms, but you was full on staring.” you laughed a little.

he knew exactly why he stared. but he obviously couldn’t say. “interest.” he tilted his head back a little.

“in me?”

“about you.” he paused. “maybe in you.”

you found yourself starting to smile, looking away only to find sasha looking right back at you.

as her words from the hallways started to cloud your mind, you looked at armin. “you don’t got a girlfriend, do you?”

armin just shook his head. and you nodded.

“you got a boyfriend?”

“i wouldn’t be here right now if i had one.”

“really?” he frowned at you. “that’s surprising. look at you.”

before you could even reply, you were cut off by connie who looked back at you and armin. “look at armin tryna get some pussy!” he laughed, along with a few others laughing.

“chill connie.” ony nudged connie, looking at you two. “this a damn idiot, don’t worry bout him.” he said to you.

you awkwardly nodded, immediately feeling uncomfortable with the group.

eren whispered something to connie before connie bursted into laughter, covering his mouth with his fist and looking at armin, pointing. “that’s fucked up!”

armin started to smile, but finally seeing the look on your face, he stopped.

your eyes trailed the group as everyone looked at you. not only were you confused, as fuck, but embarrassed.

“i really don’t know what’s so fucking funny.” you heard sasha say, standing up and staring at everyone. “i mean, what’s the punchline? eren, you invited her. don’t know why the fuck you’re laughing.”

eren rolled his eyes, turning around.

“and connie, you’re an asshole anyway, so i don’t expect anything less.”

you stayed silent, moving away from armin as your eyes drifted to the ground. that caught his attention and he looked at you. “they’re just-”

“can we go home?” you stood up, sitting your drink down on the floor.

“come on, it’s a joke.” connie muttered, shaking his head.

“connie.” jean squinted.

“there is no joke.” sasha frowned at connie.

“armin wanting her pussy? it’s a big joke.” mikasa raised her brows, eren and connie letting out a small laugh.

“mikasa, shut up.” jean glared at mikasa, immediately catching the attention of eren. “the fuck?” eren squinted, putting his controller down.

“eren be for real, mikasas rude as fuck but you’re too pussy whipped to care.” jean smacked his lips. “shit ain’t brand new.”

as jean and eren went back and forth, you sighed, starting towards the door. beneath your knowledge, armin was right behind you. you went to the kitchen to calm yourself down, leaning over the counter.

“you good?”

the sound of armins voice made you jump a little and you put your hand over your chest, exhaling loudly. “would you be?” you asked after turning towards him with an obvious expression.

armin leaned on the counter, crossing his arms and looking at you.

“my bad.” he started. “about them.”

you stayed silent, letting armin speak, but it seemed like that was all he had to say. “your friends.” you mumbled, looking away from him.

“they don’t act like that all the time. really.”

“so that’s just because i’m around. okay.” you were gonna walk out of the kitchen but armin stopped you.

“you’re not the problem. they’re just fuckin stupid when they’re drunk and high and shit.” he admitted, deep down hoping you’d believe it.

you sighed, trying to clear your mind. “ion mind you apologizing for your friends, but don’t make excuses for them. or yourself.”

armin frowned. “myself?”

“whatever was so funny, you’re in on it. that’s why connie pointed at you.” you pursed your lips. “that’s why you smiled.”

armin inhaled a little and quickly shook his head. “no. no, it was awkward.” he tried to explain.

you bit the inside of your cheek and stared into his eyes, trying to find any source of lying behind them. but it was like a shield. covering up the whole truth or anything leading to it.

you just gave up and shook your head. “okay.”

armin just watched you check your phone and look back up at him. “it’s late anyway, i might as well go home now.” you said.

he nodded.

before you turned to leave, you looked back at him.

“oh, and that joke connie made? i really hope that’s not all you were eyeing me for. i see potential in you, armin.” you said, in hope that he’d let that sink in.

he nodded again.

“it’s not.”

[fairiesthrum]

ummmmmm excuse me, my dearest fae, you can’t just say this and then not expand???

bounty hunter satoru?? do you think he has a dirty little space ship that desperately needs maintenance and he constantly brings back aliens from trips just so he can play around with them, exploring their bodies till they’re trembling and whining…………………………………

🎀 — humblest apologies for not explaining myself further alba 😓 (incoming yap session)

imagine in a galaxy far, far away, there’s a place where aliens and humans co-exist. now, about most of the population of aliens appear pretty humanoid, just very colorful skin and hair (pink, purple, green, blue, etc.)

the setting is very much like that of guardians of the galaxy, and gojo satoru is the most notorious bounty hunter there is. i imagine him (i’ll try to post a drawing soon) with a lot of cyber tech. his whole outfit would be black and he uses two guns, one with blue led lights and the other red (trying to get y’all to envision.) he’d also have his signature blindfold but instead, it comes in the form of cyber tech mask glasses that can dematerialize by pressing a button on the side (kinda like peter quill’s.)

he rarely ever misses when he shoots and he always catches the perps (nah, i’d win space edition.) and satoru is very serious abt his job (ik shocking but he’s gotta make that bag somehow and being a bounty hunter pays really well.) he’s very confident to say that nothing is able to distract or deter him from getting it done. but unfortunately for him, he has only one weakness. and that was alien girl puthayy 😛

see, the problem was, aliens and humans can not reproduce with one another. it wasn’t impossible, it was just against the rules. and by that definition, it also meant that it was illegal to have sex with one another. but let’s be fr, it’s going to happen whether it’s outlawed or not.

the first time satoru’s fucked an alien woman, it was at a strip club. as a man, he was curious to what it’d feel like to fuck one. and unfortunately for him, it was the best he’s ever had. it was his guilty pleasure, the one thing no-one could know about or else, it’d risk his job. but it was just too good. and where he used to jerk his cock off to human girls on his ship, now he does it thinking about alien girls. it always has him coming fast, and sometimes, just the thought can have him busting a nut in his pants, completely untouched.

he’s never had mind-blowing sex like that before in his life. the man is already a sex fanatic and craves it all the time (it helps him blow off steam), but he can’t cum when fucking regular human women anymore ;( it’s cause aliens were far more sensitive than humans, their senses advanced with the ability to feel more. and there was no feeling on earth (pun intended) like rutting into a warm cunt that was eager to suck him in, strangling his cock cuz some alien chick was horny out of her mind, pussy practically drooling all over him.

it’d have to be a secret though. and luckily for satoru, no one suspects someone like him, who’s job was to hunt down rogue aliens, to love sloppy extraterrestrial pussy.

satoru’s ship is made from the same advanced tech as his suit. it gets dirty from his constant partying and hook-ups. so, when he needs to get it checked cuz some huge beefy alien dude breaks his console during one of his ragers, he doesn’t bring it to the usual repair shop everyone goes to for their space ships. oh no no, he goes to one run by the other species.

there were a lot of hot ladies working there (because sexism doesn’t exist amongst aliens like at least they doing sumn right unlike us 😒) so, a lot of the times, his ship doesn’t end up fixed at the end.

he… likes to stay and watch them with dark, hooded eyes as they prance around his ship, eager to do their job. every once in a while, he’ll put a hand on their hip, letting it linger just long enough before pulling away when he comes over to “check on the progress.” the touch isn’t uninvited, he knows from the sultry gazes and flirty touches that are given in turn that they’re very much into him too.

it’s not long before he has them bent over the console, thrusting into the warm gooeyness of their sticky hole as they mewl and whine for more of his fat cock while he pinches their sensitive nipples ‘till they squirm.

they’re loud, and he loves it. it feeds his ego to know how hungry they are for him, for his cock. aliens were known for multiplying by the dozen, he assumes it has something to do with that. satoru’s thought about it before, breeding an alien. it was just a fantasy though, a fantasy that has him spilling his cum inside them on the spot, their needy whimpers begging him to.

that was his routine, catching criminals and fucking alien girl pussy on the side. and when his next mission entails finding some lady who stole some priceless piece of tech that could’ve sold for a lot, he was on board to find you right away (and that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you were smoking hot.)

it was easy for him to track you, he was the best at this job after all. you try to flee but he manhandles you against the wall, trapping you with your wrists pinned behind you, his chest up against your back. his warm breath hits your neck, panting from chasing you down. satoru’s eyes are dilated, but you’re unable to see with your cheek pressed against the cool metal in front of you.

this wasn’t what you had expected, you were caught so easily! it was a bad idea from the start, but it was either take a leap of faith and end up rich or be broke forever.

the pleas instantly leave your lips, begging to be let go. you didn’t want to go to prison. you were young and had so much to live for! (the two cents in your back pocket 😓) satoru listened, his cerulean eyes twinkling with amusement and poorly concealed arousal as you went on, swearing how you’d never do it again, that he could take back what you stole and forget it ever happened. he contemplated for a moment, choosing his cards carefully, before he’s leaning in next to your ear to whisper, “no can do, sweetheart.”

you shiver, and the atmosphere seems to change around you suddenly at the shift in his tone. a feeling you were all too familiar with stirs in your stomach, your body simply a slave to pleasure (curse your biology!) and the way he had spoken to you just then had you wet in a matter of seconds.

you try to compromise, “i’ll do anything!” it flies out of your mouth before you can even think. and he smirks, like he had been waiting for that the entire time.

“anything?”

and that’s how you end up getting railed by the human man who was sent to capture you.

“‘s so fucking good— fuck!”, he’s slurring by your ear, like he was getting drunk off of pounding into you. the thrusts were desperate, as if he could never get enough of your insides. satoru could stay like this forever, watching his cock slide in and out, stretching you open with his girth. he clings onto you like he never wants to let go, your wrists free and resting on the metal in front of you, the warm puffs of your breath condensing on the cold alloy. strong pale arms covered in high-tech were wrapped tightly around your waist while his hips thrust into you with a hungered fervor.

the tip of his mushroom head hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars and absolutely gushing around him. he gives you a low groan of approval when you clench, “jus’ like that pretty, jus’ like that—”

then he lets you go after blowing a load inside you, leaving you with shaky legs and a throbbing for more. and you totally don’t start thieving more often just so he can come find you and do it all over again.

anyways, that is all i have for space bounty hunter gojo lol ₓₓ

[m0chisenpai]

P.Y.T ( Pretty Young Thing)

Spiderman Across the Spiderverse

42!Miles Morales x black!reader

Warning(s): nothing too crazy. just a bit of cursing

Honestly it’s giving Poppy and Branch

You stuck out like a sore thumb in Miles’ life. A bright pink, bedazzled thumb. He’ll never forget the first moment he saw you, well saw you again. He was out after school with some of the boys, and he saw you with your girls. You two crossed paths once or twice in middle school before you transferred for a bit to one of those downtown academies.

He recalls how you were the oreo that could answer any chem question without flinching at the sheer amount of conversion and what not involved.

You didn’t bag an eye or flinch at the harsh comments, the nickname that made Miles grind his teeth. How’s it your fault you were top three in the science department?

Yet here you were, your hands covered your glossy pink lips that spilled with a laugh that Miles wanted to hear more of. Your nails gleamed with bright charms and some cartoon characters and your other hand tossed a loose bang from your face.

You changed but he still saw the bright pink braces girl with various cartoon charms dangling from her purple kanken.

You all headed into the bodega and he and his boys followed in behind you. One of them said he needed to hit your friends up about something and it was coincidence because the two of you were reintroduced.

Miles found it endearing how despite your loud and boisterous behavior when the two of you got introduced, here you stood quiet as a mouse looking anywhere but at Miles.

You held a pack of candy in one hand and a bottle of water in the other while your groups spoke behind you as you stepped up to pay. But Miles caught your frustration as you dug into your purse.

“I got you” he stepped in and tapped his phone before you could protest.

“Thanks Miles I’m so sorry, next time it’s on me” you give him a smile as you slide the back into the book of your arm.

And it's then when he realizes how much he's missed you since middle school.

“Nah it’s all good you know I got you” his eyes watch as you fidget with your nails and he can’t help but smirk and gently bump you. “Why you acting shy? Used to hear you all the time in the halls.”

You gawk up at him and smack him in the arm. And he notes how your hand lingers a bit. It’s all the confirmation he needs.

“Morales how dare you! You look annoyed I didn’t want to bother you.. and who said you could get so tall.” You crossed your arms.

“I don’t think you could bother me.” And the way you look up at him is enough to know he’s got you wrapped around his finger just as you do him.

“And no one told you to stink your growth with all that coffee.”

“Hey!”

Before you part ways Miles gets your new number and makes sure to save his into your phone.

You slowly find yourself bleeding back into Miles’ life. Short texts get longer. You’re sending hearts within four months, and Mama Rio knows your special knock when you enter the apartment to wait for Miles. She feeds you when you stay the long nights and Mr.Morales doesn’t want you going home for your safety.

When he comes home from his shifts he would stop you before you were heading out and tells you that you might as well stay the night. He was the same gentle giant you remember from back in middle school and he welcomes you into his home with open arms just as he did before.

He’s always quick to give your pops and mom and text when you do stay the night and they’re more than appreciative.

Miles bought a blanket just for you when you slept over on the couch. It’s fleece, pink and covered in a my melody pattern. He even provides a silk pillow in a matching shade cause he knows you won't sleep with a mix matched set. He pulls it up and tucks it in when he sees you fast asleep coming in from a job, and fixes your bonnet before it slips off.

You go from Y/N in his phone to Mi Tesoro.

You’re leaving lip gloss and lashes on his desk and taking jackets of his with you. He’s walking you to the bus and won’t leave till he sees you on it safely and watches your location till you’re in the house.

You begin to show back up in his sketches but he won’t show you. His sketchbook is intimate and when he does slowly show you his pieces your heart swells up.

You always were done up, but on the days when you weren’t Miles still swore you were beautiful. With lashes and without. With a full face or bare. Nails on and off. You were his whole world.

Miles knew about the dudes you used to mess with. He was smart when he could apply himself and he knew that while the relationships ended in good terms and there was no bad blood you settled. And he wasn’t going to build your relationship with him off of settling.

No, you deserved the world and therefore he was going to give it. Because you have him the same treatment in return with zero hesitation.

So when he’s planning to ask you to be his girl. He goes all out.

After school, as always, he asks if you can come by tonight. You agree but today he wants to go up on the roof and you quickly agree. But when you go up it’s different. It’s illuminated and the trail of candles lead you to your usual spot near the edge. But it’s set up with a blanket and atop it are a bouquet of roses and the large strawberry hello kitty you were raving on the phone about last week.

“I’m not the best with words or my emotions. But I know that I couldn’t let this feeling est me anymore. So I had to draw it.” Miles nods his head and you look up at the brick wall and gasp at the sight of…you. But it’s more ethereal, you want to ask Miles how he did such a beautiful portrait but he’s guiding you to look back at him with misty eyes.

“Be mine, please? My girl, my baby.”

And your hand covers your mouth like the first time but your nodding quickly and throw your arms around him and tuck yourself under his jaw.

“Miles you're lucky I used my good setting spray!” you smack his chest as he pulls you into his chest and guides your lips to his in a gentle peck.

“Sorry love I couldn’t help” he smirks down at you.

“Don’t look at me like that” you pout and push softly against him. And he tilts his hand to look down at you.

“Like what hm? How am I looking at you?” And you rolls your eyes and pull him to plant another kiss to his lips.

Tonight he doesn’t chide you about the residue your gloss leaves behind. He’ll wear it with pride. Tonight and the next days to come.

He wonders if they’ll always be like this. He hopes they are.

Because moments like this are always fleeting.

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo x f!reader. very self ship coded. fluffy, a little hurt comfort-y. cw for light misogyny from higher ups. wc 1.5k

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune like usual

“Anything in those bags for me?”

You snort, bare feet padding across the shiny wooden floors of Satoru’s apartment that is also technically your apartment despite the fact you keep your apartment across town in case he’s really on your nerves, dropping them on the floor in front of you. He looks over the edge of the sofa, one arm slung over the back carelessly, and you can’t help but smile at him looking so relaxed despite the fact you lack the same ease.

“Nah, these are for me,” you retort, not mentioning the small box with the delicately wrapped lingerie at the bottom of the largest bag. He’ll have to wait until later to find out about that one. You leave the bags behind and walk toward the couch, leaning over the edge to give him a kiss.

“What’s the occasion then?”

Reaching down to wipe your gloss from his bottom lip, he nips at the tip of your thumb and you smile. He’s good at disarming you, something both of you have learned over the years spent side by side, and you climb over the edge of the couch and plop down on top of him.

“Higher ups.”

He hums, the sound laced with disbelief.

“I don’t think you’ve ever broken a rule in your life. What do they want?”

Giggling, you roll your eyes. Sometimes he behaves as if he forgets you’re milder now than you used to be, the fury of your youth something that became unimportant entering into your twenties.

“You know very well I’ve broken many rules in my life, especially theirs.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Sighing, you snuggle into his chest and press your cheek to the area right above his heart, the steady beating comforting your anxious nature. He wraps one arm around your back and traces lazy circles over the back of your arm.

“They think I’ve given my students too much freedom, Maki especially. It’s a scolding.”

Admitting your anger aloud would feel like a loss so you simply sigh, pressing your face against Satoru’s chest and closing your eyes. He continues rubbing circles into your skin, watching the tension slowly melt out of your limbs, but now he is wound up.

How dare they question your methods? None of them have any clue what it’s like to be in the role the two of you both are, strength removed from the equation, and it feels like yet another overreach of their power.

“They’ve been on my ass for months, this is just the latest thing they’re mad about.”

Satoru scoffs, shifting and sitting up. He pulls you with him, keeping you pressed to his torso while getting comfortable. His face gives away every ounce of his concern, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean months? How often have you been seeing them?”

Your face doesn’t hide your surprise that he has somehow missed out on the last five times you’ve been summoned to address what would otherwise be very routine issues to be handled between yourself and your immediate supervisor Yaga.

“This is like the sixth time they’ve asked me in to talk…” you trail off and he reaches up to cup your cheek.

“There’s more you want to say.”

You nod and half shrug.

“Feels kind of pointless to say it though.”

He pinches your cheek and you smile, trying to shake him off of you but giving up and after a moment, giving in.

“They’re mad at me because we’re together. This is a punishment for distracting you and everyone else I’ve mentioned the situation to agrees with me.”

Despite being a tiny bit annoyed you’ve seemed to discuss these meetings with everyone but him, he understands. The mythical heads of the sorcerer community have always tried to keep his leash just loose enough to let him roam but tight enough to keep him controlled and now that is extending to you in the form of bureaucracy and bullshit.

Gojo Satoru, head of the Gojo clan and the strongest sorcerer, won’t allow it.

“What have the other meetings been about?”

A serious Satoru is a beautiful and terrifying sight, his jaw ticking and his face set in a hard glare. It isn’t often he gets this fired up and you’ve intentionally kept the situation quiet to avoid giving him something else to worry about. Selfishly, it makes your heart beat faster knowing that he’s so willing to jump to your defense.

“First one was about my technique and the logs I’ve been keeping of exorcisms performed in my domain, three of them were about my students, the most recent one was about, well, you.”

He frowns and you know he’s asking you to elaborate although you’re embarrassed to even be discussing the most recent meeting. You cried the moment you left the meeting, tucking into a corner long enough to compose yourself to keep Nitta from worrying about you the drive back to the campus.

“They reminded me we aren’t allowed to go on missions together.”

A humorless chuckle is all he can manage. The gall of these people shouldn’t surprise him the way that it does after all these years yet they still manage to pull one over every now and then.

“What exactly was said?”

He sees the shift in your face and knows immediately their words must have been full of bluster and cruelty disguised as tradition. Of course they aimed them at his partner, his girlfriend, rather than the man they have so many issues with. Satoru softens, pulling your head toward his lips and pressing them against your forehead.

“They said they won’t pay for us to go on “little lover’s vacations” just because we are unprofessional.”

The mocking serious tone you use to mimic these powerful men makes him laugh and he kisses your forehead again. He knows you well enough to know that you are still holding back everything that was said to you but he understands why.

“Well, fuck them.”

Laughing and shaking your head, you lean into Satoru’s big body with a contented sigh.

“We’ll see how tomorrow goes. Maybe I’ll tell them just that.”

You both know that you would never but he laughs at you anyway.

“If you don’t I will.”

You were happy to let the conversation die there, instead mentioning that there may be one thing in your shopping bags for your spoiled boyfriend. It served as distraction enough that you didn’t have to discuss the heavy stuff and the evening was spent focusing on more pressing matters.

This morning, though, Satoru isn’t willing to focus on other matters.

Riding the elevator to the bottom floor where these meetings take place, you straighten out your new blouse and ensure your skirt is acceptably pressed above the knee. Anxiety runs wild through your body but you breathe through it, sweaty palms clutching the handle of your purse.

The elevator doors slide open and you step out, jumping and shrieking in terror at the sight of a blindfolded Gojo standing in front of you.

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?”

He grins and you swear it lights up the dim surroundings.

“I’m not going to let them treat you that way.”

The support means the world but the notion of him saving you makes you uncomfortable, shifting your weight from foot to foot where you stand.

“You don’t have to stand up for me, Satoru…”

He shakes his head and puts one hand on your shoulder, burying the other in his pocket nonchalantly.

“Oh I’m only going to be supporting you from the outside. I know you’re more than capable of telling them to stick their old man opinions up their asses, isn’t that what got you in trouble your third year?”

Smiling at the memory, you nod. That was indeed what got seventeen year old you in enough trouble you were off missions and in detention for a month.

Yaga let you watch TV and tap away on your handheld game device the entire time in lieu of actual punishment.

Satoru’s grin softens into something sweeter and just for you.

“Don’t forget who you are. You aren’t just my girlfriend.”

His emphasis and both just and my make you laugh but you quickly compose yourself, straightening your shoulders and spine and letting Satoru pluck a bit of lint off of your top. He claps your shoulder and shakes you just enough that you strangely feel steadier, ready to face whatever opposition lies down the flight of stairs a few feet away.

“Thank you, Satoru.”

He shrugs.

“I’m just looking forward to listening to someone else handling you while you’re mad.”

Another nod is exchanged between the two of you and he squeezes your shoulder one last time before turning you in the direction of the staircase. He pats your ass once and you slap at his hand but confidence is all you feel heading down lower.

Gojo has never been more certain he picked the right one in his life.