#they’re sitting on my desk as motivators

[foreveia]

take two ⤨ iwaizumi hajime

⨭ genre; fluff, idiots to lovers but like they're actually so dumb

⨭ pairing; iwaizumi x fem!reader

⨭ word count; 5.7k

⨭ descriptions; your boss has been trying to set you up with her son for months, but as it turns out at the holiday party... you've already met him before.

⨭ warnings; explicit language and dialogue, no graphic content tho, alcohol

⨭ a/n; fun little short fic to fill the fix to publish something lolol enjoy this iwa love dump as i work on my next long fic (tell me in the comments if y'all like these better)

one.

There are exactly three things you know to be true about Iwaizumi Emi:

She is the best divorce attorney in Tohoku, possibly the country.

She is the kind of woman who could negotiate her way out of murder charges and secure the victim’s house in the settlement.

She is, without a doubt, trying to set you up with her son.

You respect her. You admire her. You are, on occasion, lowkey terrified of her.

Which is why you’re currently sitting at your desk, nodding at all the appropriate intervals while she breezes through yet another pitch about why her son and you are, in her professional opinion, a perfect match.

“He’s back from Irvine for the summer,” she says, skimming a property settlement document like it personally offended her. She tosses it onto your pile nonchalantly, and you let out a short sigh because it’s just more backend filing to do and, despite your adoration for your career path and real passion towards legal work, entry jobs in the firm are mostly busy work. “I really think you’ll like him. He’s—”

You tune out. Not in an obvious way, of course—no, you’re a professional. You sprinkle in the occasional mmhmm and sounds great so she doesn’t catch on, but this isn’t your first rodeo. You’ve heard this pitch before—multiple times. Hajime is intelligent, responsible, not an idiot like some of these men out here, blah blah blah.

It’s not that you have anything against him, really. It’s just that you’ve spent months perfecting the art of dodging your boss’s matchmaking attempts, and frankly, you don’t have the energy to entertain her latest scheme.

“You’re finally going to meet him at the firm’s ball this weekend,” Emi continues, finally looking up from her paperwork, her smile entirely too satisfied.

You blink. “Oh.”

“He’s excited to meet you too.”

Now that is new. Usually, these monologues are strictly one-sided—I told him about you! and You two will get along so well! But he’s excited to meet you too? That’s an escalation. That’s a game-changer. That means he knows about you. He has an opinion about you.

You resist the urge to groan. Instead, you summon a polite, professional smile—the same one you use when dealing with particularly insufferable clients. “Looking forward to it,” you say, because what else are you supposed to say to the woman who could single-handedly end your career if she wanted to?

In reality, the only thing you’re looking forward to about the ball is the open bar. Being in your early twenties means being woefully broke, and you’d be lying if you said the thought of unlimited free alcohol wasn’t a strong motivator.

So, you strike a deal with yourself: you’ll put on a fancy dress, endure painful heels, and let Emi parade you in front of her son like a prize show poodle—all in exchange for an endless supply of pinot noir, cocktail shrimp, and, if you play your cards right, an entire bottle of champagne to sneak home in your purse.

It’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make.

two.

Because you’re an adult with an absolutely thriving social life (read: you have two friends who are willing to tolerate your bullshit after 6 PM), you, Yachi, and Kiyoko are now seated at your favorite little izakaya, wedged into a corner booth with plates of karaage and a pitcher of beer between you. 

Kiyoko is talking about wedding venues. Because she’s engaged. To Tanaka. Which is objectively insane because in your head, they’re still in that “grossly obsessed with each other but pretending they’re just friends” phase, even though they’ve been together for years. The whole thing is a crime against single people everywhere, but you are supportive because your already jaw-dropping friend is somehow glowing even brighter now that she has a fat rock on her ring finger. She looks lighter, happier. She deserves it.

Yachi, meanwhile, is explaining—between delicate sips of her beer—that she’s too swamped with work to even think about dating. Which, yeah. Fair. The woman works harder than most people you know, so you respect it.

Then, as the conversation naturally shifts to your love life (as it always does, because you’re the group’s designated mess), you sigh, sinking into your seat dramatically.

“I haven’t had sex in months.”

There’s a beat of silence before Kiyoko and Yachi both roll their eyes in unison, like they rehearsed it.

“Oh my God,” Yachi mutters.

“You cannot still be caught up on GDD,” Kiyoko says flatly, pouring herself another drink.

“Okay, first of all,” you say, holding up a finger, “it is not about him. It’s just a general fact about my current state of being.”

“Uh-huh,” Kiyoko hums, entirely unconvinced.

“Second of all,” you continue, undeterred, “GDD was life-changing, and I feel like I should be allowed to mourn the lack of that level of—of excellence in my life.”

“Life-changing,” Yachi repeats, deadpan. “You hooked up with him once.”

“Yeah, and my life was changed.”

GDD—Good Dick Dude, as he has been dubbed by your dear, unsupportive friends—was a guy you hooked up with in January after a truly legendary New Year’s Eve party.

The night itself had been pure chaos. Hinata had somehow scored an invite to this insane rooftop party—one of those bougie, exclusive, if-you-know-you-know events where you absolutely do not belong but somehow manage to fake it enough to get through the door. He’d gotten a few plus-ones, which is how you ended up there, sipping champagne you definitely couldn’t afford and making out with a guy who, to this day, remains one of the most mind-blowing hookups of your entire life.

Gorgeous, buff, and dangerous with his hands. The kind of guy who knew exactly what he was doing, which, honestly? A rarity these days. You barely remember his name—something short, easy to moan—but you do remember his stupidly perfect smirk and the way he all but ruined you against the nearest flat surface.

But then the party ended, the night faded into a haze, and you never saw him again.

Which is fine. It’s fine. Really.

You’re definitely not still thinking about it.

Kiyoko takes a sip of her beer, unimpressed. “You’ve been on, what? Five Hinge dates since then? Six?”

“Seven,” Yachi corrects.

You point at her. “Exactly.”

Kiyoko gives you a long, slow blink.

“I mean that as proof that I am not hung up on him!” you clarify. “I’ve been trying, okay? But the bar is in hell. Do you know how many ‘we should get drinks’ texts I get from guys who put crypto investor in their bios?”

Kiyoko sighs. “Okay, but let’s be real—are you actually giving any of these guys a chance?”

You open your mouth. Close it. Frown. “I mean… like… conceptually?”

“Right.”

Yachi, forever gentle but devastatingly perceptive, tilts her head at you. “Is it possible,” she says carefully, “that maybe none of these guys are measuring up because you’re subconsciously comparing them to him?”

You scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”

Is it ridiculous?

Because, okay, maybe—just maybe—no one has quite lived up to that night. And maybe you’re being a little unfair to the dating pool by expecting every single guy to have that same kind of chemistry with you. And maybe you do occasionally find yourself staring at random ceilings, wondering where GDD is now and if he even remembers you.

But still. That doesn’t mean—

“I hate you guys,” you grumble, stabbing aggressively at a piece of karaage.

Yachi pats your hand sympathetically. “We know.”

Kiyoko, ever the queen of smooth topic transitions, nudges the conversation in a new direction. “Speaking of your questionable taste in men, your boss is still trying to set you up with her son, correct?”

You groan, letting your head fall back against the booth. “Unfortunately, yes. And now, apparently, he’s excited to meet me.”

Yachi perks up. “Wait, so you are meeting him?”

“At the firm’s ball this weekend,” you say, waving a hand. “It’s fine. I’ll get a little wine drunk, take advantage of the seafood bar.”

Kiyoko raises an eyebrow. “So, you’re not going to entertain the idea of this Hajime guy at all?”

You scoff. “Absolutely not.”

Yachi hums, tilting her head in that way she does when she’s about to say something devastatingly reasonable. “I mean… what if Emi’s right?”

You blink. “What?”

“What if this is it?” she says, half-teasing, half-genuinely curious. “Like, what if you meet him and he’s actually your soulmate? Imagine if this whole time, your boss has been playing the long game, orchestrating your love story like some kind of corporate fairy godmother.”

You snort. Loudly. “Right. Because that’s totally my luck.”

Kiyoko and Yachi exchange a knowing look, but they let it go.

You take another sip of your beer, shaking your head. Hajime Iwaizumi—whoever he is—is not the love of your life.

That would be insane.

three.

You had to pull out your graduate school formal gown from the back of your closet for this, but wow, you really forgot just how good you look in red.

Your day-to-day work attire consists of pantsuits and button-ups, neatly tucked into cautiously ironed trousers, so you’ve honestly forgotten how nice it is to get dressed up once in a while. There’s something about slipping into a gown that fits like a dream, sweeping your hair up just right, and swiping on that perfect shade of lipstick that makes you feel invincible. Like you could negotiate a million-dollar deal, steal the firm’s best clients, and seduce someone’s husband all in the same breath.

Not that you would, obviously.

Probably.

The venue is ridiculous in the way all law firm events are ridiculous—held in a ballroom large enough to house a small country, chandeliers dripping in gold, servers weaving through the crowd with trays of champagne and fancy bruschetta topped with fucking caviar of all things. All this just to celebrate another year of making money off people’s divorces. Incredible the way capitalism works.

You’ve barely made it through your first glass of wine before Emi finds you.

“There she is,” she croons, linking her arm through yours. She looks positively radiant in an emerald gown, diamonds at her ears, and the kind of effortless elegance that comes from winning. You’d respect it more if she weren’t actively dragging you toward your inevitable doom. “Come on, sweetheart. Hajime’s here, and I cannot wait for you two to finally meet.”

You bite back a sigh, because of course. No warm-up period, no buffer—just straight to the matchmaking. “Can’t I get a few more drinks in me first?”

She waves a hand, utterly dismissing your complaints. “You’ll like him. I know you will.”

You doubt it. But you let her lead you anyway, mostly because you know resisting is pointless: your boss has the world’s most spell-blinding smile and enough charm to always get her way. Emi always wins.

She stops near the bar, where a man stands with his back to you, broad shoulders wrapped in a sharp black suit, one hand resting on the counter as he talks with someone just out of view.

Emi squeezes your hand. “Hajime,” she calls, her voice warm.

The man turns.

And every thought in your head immediately ceases to exist.

Because standing before you, looking unfairly good in a tailored suit and sipping from a glass of whiskey like he isn’t single-handedly ruining your life, is GDD.

Good Dick Dude.

Hajime Iwaizumi is Good Dick Dude.

Your brain short-circuits. This is not happening. This is some kind of fever dream, a cruel trick played by the universe to punish you for your sins.

Hajime’s sharp green eyes land on you, recognition flickering behind them, and then—oh no. 

He smirks. Like he knows exactly what’s running through your mind right now. Like he remembers everything.

Emi, completely unaware of your crisis, beams. “Hajime, this is the associate I’ve been telling you about.”

His mischievous, more than just amused smile widens. “Oh, I know who she is.”

Your soul leaves your body.

Because that voice? That voice is the same one that had whispered filth against your neck four months ago. The same voice that had laughed when you moaned his name. The same voice that had ruined you in ways you still haven’t fully recovered from.

You are going to die. Right here, right now, in the middle of this godforsaken gala.

“Hajime Iwaizumi,” he says smoothly, offering a hand. His palm is rough when you take it—calloused, strong, a stark reminder of exactly where those hands have been. His grip is firm, steady, and entirely too knowing.

You swallow, pasting on the best Oh wow, I am totally not spiraling internally smile you can manage. “Yeah,” you say weakly. “We’ve met.”

“Oh!” Emi beams, clasping her hands together like she’s just delighted by this new revelation. “That’s wonderful! I knew you two would get along.”

You let out a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a strangled choke. Hajime is still watching you, head tilted slightly, like he’s enjoying this: like he can see the exact moment you realize how deeply, horrifically screwed you are. Because there is no way Emi knows. She’s too composed, too pleased. If she had any inkling that her son and her associate had met four months ago in a completely inappropriate context, she’d have you both buried in litigation faster than you could say conflict of interest.

Which means Hajime is choosing to be a menace.

God, you’re going to kill him.

“Hajime just got back from Irvine a few days ago, for the start of his summer break,” Emi continues, completely oblivious to the absolute war waging behind your polite smile. “I’ve been telling him all about you, of course.”

You almost choke on your drink. “You have?”

“Of course I have!” Emi nods enthusiastically. “She’s one of the brightest associates we have, Hajime. Sharp, diligent, absolutely ruthless in negotiations—she reminds me of myself when I was her age.”

Your lips twitch. You do enjoy being compared to the most terrifying woman you’ve ever met, so it’s really too bad that this entire situation has you currently dying inside.

Hajime hums, eyes still locked on you. “Yeah,” he says, voice dipping just slightly. “She’s definitely memorable.”

Your entire body lights on fire.

Memorable.

Oh, he’s being insufferable on purpose.

Emi sighs happily, taking a sip of her champagne. “I knew you two would hit it off.”

You want to scream. You want to throw your drink in Hajime’s face. You want to rewind time and never step foot into that rooftop party.

Instead, you just smile tightly. “Mm-hmm.”

Hajime grins at your suffering. “So,” he says, tilting his glass in your direction, “how have you been?”

You resist the urge to kick him in the shins. “Busy,” you say, voice clipped. “Working.”

“Ah,” he says, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, that does sound like you.”

You stiffen. Hajime, you realize, is having the time of his life watching you squirm. And it’s only going to get worse.

Because Emi suddenly claps her hands together, eyes bright with mischief. “Oh! I should leave you two to chat,” she says. “Get to know each other properly.”

Oh. Oh no. Emi. Emi, please.

But before you can protest, she winks at you—winks, like she’s a fairy godmother orchestrating the perfect romance—and disappears back into the crowd.

And just like that, you are alone with him.

Hajime watches you over the rim of his glass, eyes gleaming with amusement. “So,” he says, smirking, “you haven’t forgotten me.”

Your jaw clenches. “You smug little—”

“You look good,” he interrupts smoothly, scanning you from head to toe. His gaze lingers, appreciative but blatantly teasing. “Red suits you.”

God, you want to strangle him. You cross your arms, willing yourself to stay calm. “You knew this whole time, didn’t you?”

He chuckles. “I had a feeling.”

“A feeling?”

He tilts his head, as if contemplating. “Well,” he says, “it wasn’t confirmed until I saw you.”

You glare. “You could’ve warned me.”

“And miss that reaction?” He grins. “Not a chance.”

You hate him. You hate that he looks so effortlessly good in a suit. You hate that his voice is still just as devastating as you remember. You hate that even now, months later, you can still feel the phantom weight of his hands on your hips, the rough scrape of his callouses against your skin, the way he had murmured just like that, baby against your ear—

You inhale sharply. Nope. Absolutely not. We are not thinking about that right now.

Hajime, unfortunately, definitely knows what you’re thinking about. His smirk is downright criminal. “So,” he says, leaning in slightly, voice low, “been a while, hasn’t it?”

You refuse to give him the satisfaction of blushing. “Oh, shut up.”

He laughs, warm and amused, and you are horribly aware that this night is only just beginning.

four.

The universe clearly hates you, because Hajime happens to actually be a pretty intelligent and funny person, which is making it much, much harder to dodge his attempts at flirting and his mother’s attempts at forced-proximity matchmaking.

It was supposed to be easy. You were supposed to sip your wine, endure some polite small talk, and then fade into the crowd before Emi could corner you into any serious you’d make such a beautiful couple talk. But instead, you’re somehow still here, talking to him, because apparently Hajime Iwaizumi is annoyingly easy to talk to.

Which is not fair.

He makes it look effortless, like this isn’t completely unhinged, like it’s not absolutely deranged that your boss has spent months trying to set you up with a man who has already—

You take a sip of your wine. You are not going to finish that thought.

Hajime watches you over the rim of his whiskey glass, looking entirely too entertained by this whole situation. “You seem tense.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t argue. “Hey, could be worse,” he says. “At least my mom has good taste.”

You choke on your sip, feeling the bubbles tingle in your nose and really regretting every life decision you’ve made in the last six months. “Oh, my God.”

He laughs, tilting his glass in a mock toast.

You squint at him, wary and slightly annoyed, unable to fathom how he’s not also dying at this situation. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I mean…” He shrugs, all easy amusement. “I’m just saying—this could be a lot worse. Imagine if she was trying to set you up with someone actually terrible.”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, swirling your wine. “You’re already pretty high on my list of worst-case scenarios.”

“See, now that hurts.”

You roll your eyes. “You’ll live.”

Before Hajime can respond—before you can regain any sense of control over this conversation—Emi appears out of nowhere, her eyes shining.

“There you two are!” she says, absolutely beaming. “It’s time for the first dance!”

You freeze.

Hajime—the absolute traitor—just raises an eyebrow. “First dance?”

“Yes! It’s tradition,” Emi says, already ushering you toward the ballroom floor. “Senior partners and their dates open the dance floor—it’s been that way for years.”

You dig your heels into the floor. “But I’m not—”

“Now, sweetheart,” Emi interrupts, entirely ignoring your panic, “you wouldn’t want to break tradition, would you?”

You stare at her, betrayed.

She smiles.

Oh, she planned this.

Hajime, standing beside you, lets out a quiet, amused sigh before draining the last of his whiskey. “Well,” he says, offering you a hand, “guess we should give the people what they want.”

You glare at him. “I hate you.”

“Uh-huh,” he says. “That’s why you’re still holding my hand.”

You drop it immediately.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop him from leading you on to the dance floor. His hand slides around your waist, pulling you gently to the center of the ballroom; you’re struggling to ignore the far too many pairs of eyes on you two as he rearranges your arms around his neck.

And—oh, hell.

You forgot how solid he is.

His grip is firm but steady, his palm warm where it rests against your back. He moves easily, like this isn’t completely ridiculous, like your brain isn’t currently melting out of your ears.

“Relax,” Hajime murmurs.

You scowl. “I am relaxed.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah, totally.”

You hate him. You hate the way he’s looking at you—amused, interested, entirely too smug for someone who has already ruined your life once.

He leads you into a slow, easy step, and goddamn it, of course he’s good at this, too. His movements are effortless, confident. He keeps the rhythm perfectly, and you hate that you match him so well.

He tilts his head, watching you. “You’re thinking really hard about something.”

“No, I’m not.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Right. So you’re definitely not thinking about how good I am at this.”

You promptly step on his foot. He laughs, and it ignites your hatefire even more.

“Asshole,” you mutter.

“I was going to say you look good tonight,” he muses, unfazed. “But now I don’t know if you deserve the compliment.”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

Hajime smirks. “Touchy.”

He spins you as the music hits a crescendo, dropping you abruptly into a dip that catches you heavily off-guard. It makes you lock your fingers tighter around his neck, and when he lifts you back up, you nearly slam right into his very, very firm chest (what the hell, is this man made entirely of protein?), face first.

“What the fuck?” you huff, a little winded. “You are actually a horrible human being.”

Hajime hums, tilting his head slightly, his eyes flickering with something too smug, too entertained. “You keep saying that,” he muses, voice low enough that it barely carries past the space between you, “but I think you just like having someone to complain about.”

Before you can deliver a scathing reply, he tugs you a fraction closer. It’s subtle, barely noticeable to anyone watching, but you feel it—the shift of his fingers pressing against the small of your back, the way your body slots against his just enough for warmth to pass between you.

Your breath catches, and it’s infuriating how he notices. How his hold tightens, like he can read every single thought running through your head and is thrilled by it.

“You’re such a dick,” you frown, shifting slightly, trying to put some space between you.

Hajime chuckles, and the sound is entirely too satisfied. His mouth is right by your ear, so you practically feel it more than you really hear it, when he murmurs, “And what are you gonna do about it?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Because that—that—is not fair.

That is the kind of thing a man should not be allowed to say in that voice, in that low, teasing rumble, into your ear, while holding you against him like this.

It happens before you can even think about it.

Before you can register that you are, in fact, in the middle of a ballroom at your company’s annual gala. Before you can process the reality that Emi is somewhere in this crowd, and she has already been insufferable about this whole ordeal.

Before any of that can hit you, you grab the lapels of his stupidly well-fitted suit, tilt your chin up, and kiss him.

It’s instant, sharp, devastating. Your hands tighten against his chest as you crash into him, and Hajime—because he is the worst person alive—immediately reacts.

One hand presses firm into your back, the other finding its way to your jaw, fingers curling just slightly as he deepens the kiss without hesitation. His lips are warm, just the right mix of soft and steady, and when he angles his head just so—his nose brushing against yours, his thumb skimming your cheek—you feel yourself sink, like he’s pulling you under and you don’t even mind drowning.

It should not be this good.

It should not set your pulse racing like this, make you forget for a single, damning second that this is the worst possible thing you could be doing right now.

But it does. And for just a moment, nothing else exists. Not the party. Not the music. Not the fact that literally everyone is watching you right now. Just the heat of his mouth, the firm press of his fingers at your back, the way he exhales sharply like he wasn’t expecting this either, but he’s not about to stop it, not for anything in the world. 

And then you remember where you are.

You rip yourself away, blinking rapidly, your brain racing to catch up with what you just did.

And that is the moment you hear it: the loudest, most delighted squeal of your entire existence.

Your stomach plummets.

Because standing at the edge of the ballroom, her hands clasped together in sheer glee, is none other than Emi Iwaizumi herself. And she is positively vibrating with joy.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she gushes, and the way she looks at you is the exact way someone would look at their child who just announced they were getting married. “I knew it! I knew you two would be perfect together!”

Your soul leaves your body. You stare at her, horrified. You slowly turn back to Hajime—who, because he is an absolute menace, is still standing entirely too close, still holding you just slightly like he isn’t ready to let go.

And he is smiling.

The kind of smile that says I win. The kind of smile that says he is absolutely going to remind you of this for the rest of your natural life.

You physically have to stop yourself from shoving him away.

Instead, you inhale, sharp and deep, and will yourself to stay calm. Emi is still talking. She is still gushing. And you cannot deal with whatever she’s about to say next, so before she can so much as breathe, you turn back to Hajime, seize his wrist, and drag him off the dance floor, because if you don’t get away from this immediately, you are actually going to die of secondhand embarrassment and shame.

five.

This is because of your dry spell.

Your dry spell is the reason why your entire sense of self-control and awareness have gone out the window, and the reason why, now that you and Hajime have successfully escaped the ballroom onto the balcony, he is doubled over laughing and you are actually freaking out.

“Jesus fuck,” you groan, pressing your hands to your face. The cool night air does nothing to soothe the absolute catastrophe unfolding inside your brain. “I kissed you. I kissed you in front of everyone.”

Hajime straightens, still grinning like an asshole. “Yeah,” he says, entirely too pleased. “You did.”

You drop your hands, glaring. “Fuck you, dude. You’re not helping.”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t aware I needed to.”

You let out an incoherent noise of distress.

Hajime, because he is insufferable, just leans against the balcony railing, watching you unravel like it’s the best entertainment he’s had all night. His tie is slightly loosened now, his jacket unbuttoned, and somehow, he looks even better like this—a little rumpled, a little amused, looking at you like he already knows how this is going to end. 

That is actually unacceptable.

“This is your fault,” you snap, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You goaded me into it.”

Hajime raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so I made you kiss me?”

“Yes,” you declare, with full conviction, even though you definitely grabbed him first. “You set me up.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “You really can’t handle taking the L, huh?”

“I can handle it,” you insist. “I just don’t want to.”

His lips twitch like he’s trying very hard not to laugh again. “So you kissed me against your will?”

“Yes.”

Hajime tilts his head, amused. “Interesting. Because you seemed pretty into it.”

Your jaw drops. “I—you—shut up.”

He chuckles, and God, his voice is all warm and low and pleased with himself, and you really need to get it together before you do something stupid again.

You exhale sharply, crossing your arms and shifting your focus to the city skyline instead. Sendai stretches out before you in a sea of golden lights, a stark contrast to the absolute nightmare happening in your head. 

This is fine. You can recover from this. You just have to never, ever acknowledge it again.

You square your shoulders, turning back to him. “Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. We are going to go back inside, pretend this never happened, and move on with our lives.”

Hajime hums, considering. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

You squint. “What do you mean that’s not gonna work?”

He pushes off the railing, taking a step closer—too close, enough that you feel it again, that ridiculous, stupid warmth that shouldn’t still be there after all this time. “I mean,” he says, slow, deliberate, “you’re acting like that kiss was a mistake.”

You blink. “Because it was.”

He lifts a single eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, but it comes out way too defensive, and Hajime knows it.

He grins. You decide that you hate him.

“I’m sure,” you insist, crossing your arms tighter, like that will somehow make this whole situation less insufferable. “It was a heat-of-the-moment thing. A lapse in judgment. That’s it.”

Hajime tilts his head, thoughtful. “Okay. So if I kissed you again right now, you wouldn’t like it.”

Your entire brain short-circuits. The audacity. The unbelievable nerve.

You gape at him. “You wouldn’t.”

His grin widens. “Wouldn’t I?”

You hate how smug he looks. You hate that your stomach flips at the idea of it. You hate that you don’t immediately shut it down.

He watches your expression carefully, like he’s waiting for you to stop him, like he won’t actually do it unless you give him some kind of sign. Which is so much worse, because it means he’s giving you the chance to say no, to walk away, to end this before it can spiral any further.

But you don’t.

And that—more than the kiss itself, more than Emi’s squealing, more than the public spectacle you just made—is what finally sends you into full-blown panic mode.

You do want him to kiss you again.

You stare at him, pulse thrumming, brain caught in a violent tug-of-war between denial and desire. And Hajime? Hajime is watching you with the patience of someone who knows he’s already won.

“Say it,” he murmurs, voice low, steady.

You scowl. “Say what?”

“That you want me to kiss you again.”

Your jaw clenches. He’s baiting you, letting you choose, waiting for you to meet him halfway. You exhale sharply, tilting your chin up. “You’re so full of yourself.”

His mouth twitches. “Not an answer.”

“Fine,” you snap. “I want you to kiss me again.”

Hajime grins. “That’s all I needed.”

And then, he does.

This time, it’s slower, deeper, not rushed by the heat of the moment. He takes his time, like he’s savoring it, like he’s memorizing the way you melt into him. And you? You let him. Because, goddamn it, you were never winning this battle.

When you finally pull away, breathless, he smirks down at you. “See? Not a mistake.”

You groan. “I hate you.”

He laughs, pressing another quick kiss to your forehead that feels far more intimate than a casual pair of friends-with-benefits should. You, scandalized, shove him away, but Hajime just grins, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, pressing your fingers to your forehead, like that will somehow stop the ridiculous heat crawling up your neck.

Hajime hums, smug. “And yet, you’re still standing here.”

You are still standing here. You could have left, could have walked back into that ballroom and pretended this entire thing never happened. But instead, you’re here. On this balcony. With him.

You shift, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “So… what now?”

Hajime leans back against the railing. “Dunno. Guess that depends on you.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why do I feel like you already have an answer?”

“Because I do,” he says plainly, in a way so nonchalant and effortless it could only be said like that by him. 

You exhale sharply, tilting your head up to the sky, like the stars might have some kind of solution for this. “You know this is gonna be a thing now, right?”

Hajime raises an eyebrow. “A thing?”

“Yeah,” you say, making a vague gesture between the two of you. “A thing. Emi’s gonna lose her mind. She’s probably already telling the senior partners that her matchmaking career is a success.”

Hajime laughs, the sound easy, effortless. “Yeah. She probably is.”

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. “I am never going to live this down.”

“Probably not.”

You squint at him. “You could at least pretend to be sympathetic.”

Hajime shrugs, then reaches for your hand, tugging you forward so suddenly that you nearly stumble into him. His hands slide down to your waist, thumbs brushing over the fabric of your dress. “I could,” he murmurs, close, too close, “but we both know I wouldn’t mean it.”

You scowl. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” he says, smug, “you still kissed me. Twice, actually.”

You glare. “Stop counting.”

“No promises.”

You groan, pressing your forehead to his chest in sheer exasperation. “This is my villain origin story.”

Hajime just laughs, wrapping his arms fully around you, and you hate—hate—that it feels nice, that it feels right.

“Hajime,” you say, voice muffled against his suit jacket.

“Yeah?”

You lift your head just enough to meet his gaze. “If we’re doing this, you are legally required to make it up to me with at least two fancy dates. Minimum.”

Hajime smirks, like he was already planning on it. “Deal.”

“And no getting too smug about this, either,” you squint.

He tilts his head. “Define ‘too smug.’”

You groan, shoving at his chest. “God, I hate you.”

Hajime just catches your wrist and grins, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your knuckles. “Sure you do.”

You really don’t. And both of you know that very well, because he has his mother’s spell-blinding smile and you have always been a sucker for them both.

⨭ closing; churned this out over one 3 hour writing sesh bc i got this idea in my head and had to see it through. not proofread and very very hastily written, but i like her anyway. #comment #reblog #lemme know ur thoughts mwah xoxo

[thatmermaidroozies5]

Kind of an odd week so to cheer myself up I bought three bottles of bubbly. They’re only to be opened when I land my dream job, graduate, and pass the boards.

🍾🤞🏽🍾

[genderless-naper]

give it your all

trafalgar law x bestfriend!reader

themes: modern college au, best friends, jealousy, confession, wall sex, slight body worship & cockwarming, no protection/pull out, female reader, 18+

after failing an exam, you confessed to law how jealous you were of his natural intelligence. in return, he accidentally reveals how much he wants you.

nsfw, smut, wc: 3k, lowercase intended!

you walked into your room with frustration radiating off you. you just finished a midterm exam, but none of the topics you studied for was actually on the test. you spent countless hours studying to get a good grade only to be doomed to fail. law was sitting at your desk doing his work. you found him in the same place you left him.

you threw your bag on the floor and crossed your arms. it was enough to catch law’s attention. he continued his work as he spoke up, “did it go well?”

the annoyance you had built up from starting the exam to getting back to your room was let out all at once, “that professor is such an asshole!! i swear it’s like they’re trying to set us up for failure. nothing they mentioned on the study guide was on the exam. it was talking about topics we didn’t even review in class!”

law placed his pen down, and swirled the chair so he faced your agitated figure, “you’re probably overthinking it. i’m sure you did great. i helped you study a lot last night, and you had all the concepts down.”

you groaned, “you’re not listening. surely i failed that midterm. nothing mentioned in class was on it.”

you rubbed your arm and felt a bit jealous of the man sitting in front of you, “i wish i was naturally smart like you…”

law tried to help you feel better, “don’t say that. you have lots of things going on for you.”

“like what?? failing a midterm i stayed up all night studying for?”

he cleared his throat and put more thoughtfulness into his replies, “it’s just a midterm y/n-ya. don’t beat yourself up about it. also i was mentioning other things your good at.” law paused to think of some of your strengths and virtues, “you’re great with people and super outgoing. you have like every guys on campus wrapped around your finger, and you go on dates all the time.”

you rolled your eyes, “that doesn’t mean anything though. i care more about failing my classes than stupid boys.”

law shrugged, “well it’s not fair in my eyes. i wish i could do that.”

you tilted your head, “you can do that though law. you just need to go out and find people you like talking to.”

“i wasn’t referencing you. i was referencing them.”

confusion led you to ask, “what do you mean by that.”

law answered without thinking through his response at all, “those guys you go on dates with get to have that side of you, and they don’t even realize how lucky they are.”

you paused for a minute to take in what he said. it was an accidental confession that law had no intention of letting out. you held his eye contact in an attempt to find out if he was telling the truth.

after a stretched out silence he cleared his throat, “i didn’t mean to say that. forget about it.”

you raised your brow. how could you just forget about it?

“how about you elaborate on that instead?”

law turned his back to you, trying to focus on the previous work, hoping the situation would disappear on its own. you, on the other hand, wouldn’t let it go so easily.

you walked to his seated figure, and reached over to shut his laptop. you turned his chair back to face you then leaned down while holding the arm wrests. laws golden eyes gazed into your intensively as he tried to understand what your motive was at that moment.

“elaborate.” was all he heard. he found it hard to form a verbal response especially when you pressed him so hard about it. he didn’t quite know what to tell you that also wouldn’t affect the friendship you two have built.

so he didn’t say anything. he kept quiet. you leaned down dangerously close to him while holding his gaze. he sighed in defeat knowing there wasn’t a way to escape you at that point. he decided to speak, partially because he was also over hiding how he felt about you, “it’s not fair that they get to have your interest like that. i’m the one that sits with you every night before your exams to help you study. i’m the one who gets you to do your work when you don’t want to. yet they’re the one’s you’re always interested in. i’m honestly over it y/n.”

law gets up from the chair and packs his things back into his bag. it seemed pointless to stick around anymore. he figured he ruined things enough.

“where do you think you’re going?” you grab his packed bag to throw it back to its original place on the floor. the fact that he thought he could leave after dropping a bomb like that infuriated you, “you don’t just get to do whatever you want to. you’re staying.”

you knew the chances of him actually listening were slim. you were determined to make sure he didn’t leave, so you walk towards him until he’s backed up against the wall.

law started to become mildly irritated. he didn’t understand why you were doing all of this. if you wanted to shame him for what he said then why pull these antics? just as he was about to object against your actions you spoke instead, “why haven’t you ever made a move then?”

law rubbed his temples as he responded, “why does that matter? it’s not like you’re interested anyways. you’re always eyeing other people that aren’t me.”

you immediately dismissed his response, “has the thought ever occurred to you that i probably do that because of you? you’ve never once showed any sign of romantic interest. how could i go after you if i didn’t know you wanted me??”

law’s eyebrows turned knitted as he dissected your statement in his mind. he was certain his ears deceived him, “are you saying..?”

at that point an increase of agitation grew within you. you soon realized that now would be the best time to take action. the likelihood of an opportunity like this happening again are slim. before you could mentally decide your words beat you to it, “do you want me to show you what i mean? clearly it’s too difficult for you to understand with just words.”

the bold statement heightened your heart rate, and could’ve sworn that the tattooed man before you could hear it as well.

it’s always difficult read law’s thoughts on normal circumstances, but right now it was clear to you that he only wanted you.

he let his hands travel and place themselves on your waist. in one swift motion he substituted his position against the wall with yours. before you could realize it was now you who was pressed against the wall. law’s towering golden gaze was fixed on examining you as if you were a research project he was being graded on. you simply knew he was determined to get full marks.

“let me show you instead. i’ve had to keep myself in check for so long just for you.”

you smirked as you pulled his collar down so his face was leveled with yours to respond, “give it your all then trafalgar.”

your green light what the exact thing the man was looking for. although he liked you, more than he’d admit, he never thought about the dirty things he’d do to you. he always suspected it was unlikely to occur.

yet here he was desperate to pull your clothes off like a starving animal.

soon he discarded your garments leaving you exposed to his eyes. the only items obstructing his view were your bra and panties. still the man wasted no time admiring your body. you allowed his hands to roam, to feel, to touch any part he desired. the freedom bestowed upon him anxiously thrilled him.

“you’re so gorgeous y/n, i could stare at you all day long..”

his breath was caught as his eyes were lost in your beauty.

he was unaware of how long he spent just starring at you until he saw that you seemed to be at a state of unease.

he leaned down to press his yearning lips against your collarbone. it was a sweet kiss, but powerful enough to send shivers down your spine.

as he made his way to your shoulder you lean close to his ear to speak, “take everything off already, please law..”

“give me a second to take you in y/n.”

and that’s exactly what he did until your patience for him started to run thin. it felt like fire was erupting off your skin. he was tormenting you with every second he put off.

his hands glided up the natural curve of your spine, and effortlessly unhooked your bra. you let it slip and hit the floor soon, following with your panties, and kicking them to the side.

law’s inked hand made its way to the front of your figure to explore the new region on display. he held your breast with care as he leaned down to lick your bud. he dragged his tongue over and over your nipple feeling it harden from his repeated actions. you rested your head against the wall permitting shallow breaths to leave you. law’s gentle grip eventually turns into grasping motions that squeezed at your tissue. he made sure to give the same attention to the other side by switching back and fourth. moments when he pulls back to catch his breath he whispered how in awe he was of your every minute detail. the praises that fell from his mouth drove your desire for the man to increase making you more impatient by the second.

finally satisfied with your captivating body he put to work with discarding his own clothes. when pulling off his shirt his muscles, inked by tattoos, would naturally flex giving you a show that was irresistible to look away from.

he shared your eye contact as he raised his hand to his mouth to lick his middle and ring finger. he held them together as he sentenced them to please you between your thighs. he placed them above your clit, applying standard pressure, and began to massage in circular motions.

the sudden gasp from your lips indicated to him of the pleasure being received from his fingers.

law chuckled because of your sudden reaction, “i’m barely touching you and you’re acting like this. should i go a bit harder-“ law simultaneously applied the indicated pressure, “or should i go faster y/n?” the man increased his circular haste. asking for your decision meant nothing to him at that moment. it could’ve been considered more of a warning than a question.

you tried your best to not let your moans get the best of you, but it was difficult when your mind could only focus on how good the man’s fingers felt. you hadn’t noticed his member rising with anticipation ready to make you a moaning mess.

law adjusted his motions to reach back and fourth to your hole. realizing his licked figured would ultimately serve no purpose because the wetness you exhibited was far more useful. he used it to his advantage in order to prepare you for what was yet to come.

he spoke in a low tone, “are you ready y/n-ya? lets get to the real fun already.”

you nodded fast agreeing with him. you were unsure how much more torture of the clit you could take before your orgasm engulfed you.

law averted his attention on his own growing discomfort. the member in desperate need of relief appeared swollen at the tip, and veins carved out the sides of his length. law pulled away his fingers from your clit to hooked a singular arm under your leg and keep it lifted. he held the leg up exposing your wet core, and pressed you harder against the wall with his body. his length naturally pressed up against your core, and was barely consumed in your folds.

he shifted his hips back and fourth to drag his member along your heat. he aimed to cover himself in your slick, so entering wouldn’t be such a task, and he could focus on what truly mattered.

you on the other hand was being driven by heightened arousal. you wanted nothing more than to be fucked into oblivion. exasperated from the situation, you decide to take the initiative. you reach to his hard member and position it to your hole. you push yourself down enough to fit the tip in.

the size of his member stretched your entrance more than you expected. he questioned if you were okay only to which you managed a hum. you were too busy biting down your lip to form a proper reply.

he motioned that he would soon start, to which you nod your head giving him another green light.

he passed his member in and through your walls. he felt your walls naturally squeeze his member, and the warmth increasing the blaze on his skin. he watched as you shut your eyes and meekly groan due to the unfamiliar length.

he paused his movements to let you regain your composure. law removed fallen strands of hair and tucked them behind your ear before speaking up, “you’re gonna do great y/n-ya. i’m gonna start, is that okay?” the man waited for your approval, which you happily gave, and started to rock his hips slowly. surely he wanted to pick up his pace, but he wanted you to adjust as well.

law felt unsettlingly sexually attracted to you. the slow pace he set eventually caused him to curse himself out in his mind. he wanted to pound you right then and there, but he just had to be so considerate of you. he figured the best thing to distract his mind, and so he pressed his like against yours. it was the first time he ever kissed you. he never predicted your first kiss would happen after he was balls deep in you.

your lips shared warmth, and it caused your bodies to further align. every slow thrust drew you both into a deeper and more passionate kiss. you two were in a war zone and the kiss served as paradise.

the natural depth of the kiss blurred the lines of sense in law’s mind. without realizing he responded to his body’s natural sexual thirst by feverishly picking up the pace of his hips. you had to pull away to voice out your pleasure through moans. your eyes squeezed themselves shut. he saw the pain, but also the pleasure. his forehead rested on the wall next to your head, and he grunted in your ear like a dog chasing a high that felt so far away.

no more holding him back. he pushed every regressed emotion felt into his thrusts. they hit you harshly like the force of a tsunami. at that moment you fully realized just how much law was holding back just for the sake of the friendship, and how much he simply didn’t care anymore.

the constant sensation of his member grazing your walls edged you closer to your climax, “fuck law, you feel so fucking good~”

his name rolling off your tongue in moans made him feel cockier than he should’ve been. the man that once dreamt of you every night that week was finally getting what he wanted. he wasn’t going to let any moment fleet away from him.

his thrusts, now set at a monstrous pace, forced you to your orgasm faster than you’d anticipated. your nails dug into his skin, and you vocalized your pleasure through your moans. although it was clear you had reached your goal and had no more reason for the continuous pace, law had no intention of stopping. law growled into your ear, “why do you feel so fucking good y/n~?”

he didn’t miss a beat. that is until he climax snapped like a twig. his white substance launched into you, and filled you up leaving you warm from within. it took a while for you to the catch your breaths. the sweat caused by the shared experience made you both feel sticky. you spoke up once you felt like you were no longer desperate for oxygen, “are you gonna pull out..?”

law looked at you through half-lidded eyes. it was clear his orgasm exhausted him. his own words felt like they blurred together, “just forget about it for now…” he kept his member fully inserted in your warm heat.

he used the last of his efforts to pick up your other leg. he carried you to your bed, and you both collapsed onto it. not once did his member withdraw from within you.the natural exhaustion you felt led you to doze off instantly. law was on the verge of following you before he was taken out of his own conscious.

the sound of a notification popping on your phone alerted him. he reached over and grabbed the phone to read what it was.

your midterm grade results had came back. curious of your results, law input your password in to check the grade. he smiled at the green box holding the ‘93%’ in it. he was glad to know you would wake up with good news.

he put the phone back down and tiredly whispered to your sleeping figure, “i told you that you would do well…”

masterlist

[revelboo]

Im not sure if these are updated based on request or based on your whimsy, but if it *is* request based, may I please beg for Ironhide? I love the old man >.<

If not, feel free to ignore and I will continue to patiently wait :) 👍

Love u so much for this blog; it gets me through the work day.

Honestly, it’s mostly based on people reminding me in the asks that I’ve neglected a character or story, because I’m not motivated enough to make a posting schedule I know I won’t stick to and those asks are sitting at over 300 at this point 😂 no matter how fast I go through them

Hold Me Down Pt 4

Ironhide x Reader

• “Rules,” he growls, servos flexing as you scowl up at him from where he’d unceremoniously dumped you on his cluttered desk. “You’re going to behave. Primus help you if I catch your sticky little fingers on anything that’s not yours.” And you’re looking around, ignoring him. Smacking a hand on the desk to make you jump and glare, he grins. “Act like a sparkling and I’ll treat you like one, darling.”

• Eyes narrowing at the big, red jerk, you curl your lip at him. He’d made it abundantly clear that you’re not getting away. That you’re stuck with each other and that he hates it. Well, that’s fine. The hate is pretty much mutual. He’d tried to give you a heart attack after all. And, okay, maybe you’d been trying to steal him at the time, but how were you supposed to know he wasn’t a real van? If anything, this is his fault. And what is a sparkling? Sounds like an insult. One thing you have figured out? He can’t hurt you or you’re pretty sure he’d have chucked you out while driving and that makes you brave to cover up the fear. “Look, demon van,” you say ignoring his pointed ‘it’s Ironhide.’ “You kidnapped me, so I have every right to make you miserable. And I’m going to enjoy it.”

• You’re grinning at him, no longer putting him in mind of a sparkling. No, they’re at least innocent. You’re a vicious little scraplet, all teeth and evil. “Try me.” Because he’s not putting up with any sass or attitude and unfortunately, you seem to be nothing but. He almost liked you better screaming. Bending slightly to get on your level, he reaches out and taps you on the head with a servo. Grimacing as you slap at him, swearing. Maybe gentler next time, he decides as you rub your head to send your hair into disarray. “I’d behave a little better if I was your size.”

• “Well, I’d punt you across the room if I was your size,” you mutter, rubbing your head. He’d thumped you hard enough to hurt. “Jerk. Demon van. Asshole.” Those big servos flex into a fist and you shut up. Know he can’t hit you, but the threat? Cringing and hating yourself for it, you glare up at him, heart racing.

• That shut you up, but it twists unpleasantly through him, too. That fear in your eyes so raw. It’s the look of someone expecting a blow because it’s familiar, cringing but still defiant. Resigned. “Look,” he grumbles, sitting down and suddenly exhausted. “I’m not going to hurt you, but you can ease up on the back talk.” Lips pressing into a thin line, you just shrug. Right. Brat. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not cut out for taking care of sparklings.” And far too old for it besides.

• That word again. You’re beginning to suspect what it means and it’s not flattering. “You understand that I’m an adult, right?” When he just stares, you swallow a laugh. “I’m not a kid, pal. I’ve been on my own for years and I don’t need taking care of.” Or want it. Relying on other people, trusting them to look out for you, to have your back can only come back to bite you. The only one you can count on is you. You’ve learned that the hard way. Anything else just gets you hurt and you’re so sick of pain.

Previous

Next

You hold me down

You're the echoes of my everything,

You're the emptiness the whole world sings at night.

You're the laziness of afternoon,

[cupidsblonde]

so do i look like him?

after katsuki’s death, the only thing your parents can see in you is him

when you used to imagine giving a speech about your younger brother, you have imagined it everywhere but here.

maybe a wedding

at an award show  

anywhere but here.

“i remember when katsuki first got his quirk, we all knew he was destined for greatness… but he was ripped away from us to soon.” you say lip quivering.

“he will never be able to live out his dream. or live out the life that had so many great things ahead of him. ripped from the arms of his loved ones, from his greatness, from his determination.” voice breaking, tears falling down your face.

“tomura shigaraki, i promise that if i ever find you, you will be ripped from the hearts of the people motivated by you, just as you did my brother” you say staring straight into the broadcasting camera, which was showing your brothers funeral all across the world.

since he was a nation wide hero. but he never got to be the hero he wanted to be, rich, famous, doing what he loved. 

for he was famous. this just wasn’t how anyone imaged it.

 was this all he was going to be to the world? a dead kid, who had a dream of being a hero and died on his way there in a war he had no place fighting in? 

is that kid the only thing your parents will ever be able to see in you?

being the eldest was great, until katsuki was gone. 

incident one

 you where all sitting around the dinning table. katsuki’s spot next to your empty. nothing but his lingering smell of caramel, which was fading, and quickly. it was quite. you just wanted to eat, and go to sleep. 

you pick up your fork and go to put the food into your mouth, clamping your mouth around the fork and unbeknownst to you, the scratching food. 

you groan, grimace and catch your parents eyes. they’re both staring at you. like you did something wrong. you can see the tears welling in their eyes. your mom slams her fork down and gets up from the table 

“excuse me” she says in a hushed tone. you didn’t know what happened. you looked to your dad for an answer. 

“you just looked a lot like him right then” you dad almost whispers to you.

incident two

you missed katsuki a lot.

his grunts

his anger

his determination 

his want 

his excellency.

you and everyone in your house avoided his room like the plague. scared that if it was changed even a little bit, something would happen. 

but you just couldn’t take not even smelling his scent around the house anymore. you went into his room one day. 

16 years of coming into his room, annoying him, crying to him, watching movies with him. had come to end. you sat on the floor, sat in his bed, sat at his desk and you made your way to his closet. that’s where it smelt the most of him. aside from his bed, but even that was fading.

all you wanted to do was cry. there was no way he was coming back, you know that. right? 

you continue to go into his spaces. just hoping your going to find your younger brother there. watch him study maybe, even hope you would be able to hear him yell at you to “get the f out of my room”. 

but you would never get to have that’s again. 

this time it was your dad. 

you had said something that you picked up from katsuki and your dad froze where he stood. 

you could tell he had been cracking his shell he made when katsuki died. push everything down to hold the family together. so he needed to get away. he stopped what he was doing and went to he and your mothers room. 

“you just looked a lot like him, with that look on your face, saying that.” your mother quivered out to you. sobbing and choking at the end of her sentence.

incident three

you had been falling back into a place that katsuki an you both worked so hard to get you out of mentally. 

you where drinking again

back on drugs

it started slow. just how it always did. 

you had been clean for nearly 2 years. you obviously didn’t need your younger brother to keep you a normal ass person, who wasn’t drinking all the time, sleeping all the time, back on drugs.

bakugo katsuki, your younger brother, your best friend. was one of the only things that kept you on the earth. 

but now, it was your parents. not because you where happy all the time with them as you where with katsuki. 

but having to bury both of their children? you couldn’t do that to them. 

so you began getting sober again. the drugs stopped and the drinking stopped, you had been reminded that katsuki helped you out of that dark, dark place and if he saw you just fall right back into it as soon as he’s gone, he would be disappointed.

it was hard, because it wand ike he was gone on a trip. he was gone, for good.

this time, it was both of them. both of your parents. 

you grabbed any random hoodie one day, not even realizing it was your brothers. you came down the stairs and your parents where right in the view of the stairs, and stopped when you came down. 

you then realized. 

you wouldnt ever be your own person now. atleast not to your parents. 

you understood, their child was gone. and you reminded them of him. and that’s … hard.

not only for them but also for yourself.

this is the first time you started to catch on 

“do i look like him?” 

both of your parents nodded quickly, tears filling their eyes and they both walked away very quickly. 

of course you went to go change.

but that’s when you realized, 

his scent wasn’t on the hoodie anymore 

the more that you thought about it. his scent wasn’t anywhere around the house anymore, aside for his room, which was fading. 

incident four

you where going through an old photo album, you all missed katsuki in with all of your hearts. 

there where a bunch of pictures of katsuki but it started getting easier to look at them. easier to, accept.

but there was this one problem, this one picture. that had your mother sobbing, your dad with tears streaming down your face and you, your face plastered with an a thousand yard stare. your mouth fell open, you wanted to say something. 

anything, but you couldn’t. it felt like your vocal cords had been ripped out, your throat was burning. your eyes where being filled with tears. you closed the picture book slowly. 

you don’t remember much after that.

 all you feel right now is the pain in the balls of your feet from the heels your wearing, continusally having to pull your to short and to tight dress down and the feeling of your back side grinding up against a man that you meet at the bar merely a half hour ago.

“wanna get out of here ma?” the man who you didn’t even know who’s name.

next morning

you woke up next to this man, who you still didn’t know the name of. 

these type of nights continued on for weeks. 

you didn’t see your parents much, you where staying with your friends more and more and they are worried about you. they are always supportive, they understand what your going through. but they are worried.

and they had every reason to. especially tonight. 

when you didn’t come home, after you sobbed in mina’s arms are the first time. saying you wished it was you who was gone and not your brother. she was first your brothers friend, but she ended up being yours as well. 

you missed him, so so much. and you didn’t know how to handle it.

you had taken care of him for his whole life. being the eldest was hard. it was always hard. it was so much harder when the one thing keeping you going was now gone. 

you could see it in your parents eyes. the only thing in their eyes was sadness. so the only you could ask yourself now was 

“do i look like him?”

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 4

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Masterlist)

Author’s note: I love this series and I want to thank everyone who comments/reblogs/likes. I love you all and it gives me so much motivation to keep working on this series 💕

Cassian limped out of his room, using the wall for support as he walked into the living room.

“Sweetheart, can you grab me the ice pack from the freezer?”

You and Feyre had been in the kitchen making waffles, but the two of you make your way over to Cassian to help him, abandoning the batter you were making. You grab the ice pack from the freezer and a hand towel to wrap around it, while Feyre walks over to help ease Cassian onto the couch, helping him prop his leg up on the coffee table.

You place the ice pack on his knee, grabbing a throw pillow and placing it under his leg.

“Are you okay? What happened?” You ask, concern etched onto your brows.

He sighs, “just my knee flares up if I do too much, and I got a little ambitious with the girl I hooked up with last night.”

Feyre snorts as he waggles his eyebrows. You sit on the arm of the couch facing him, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Cassian leans his head back on the couch, “yeah can you grab my pain meds? They’re probably in my bathroom.”

You scuttle off after he tells you what the bottle looks like, walking through his room into his bathroom. You’re not surprised at how messy it is, clothes litter the floor and papers are strewn across his desk.

You can hear Feyre and Cassian talking but can’t make out what they’re saying as you begin your search. You search through his drawers and medicine cabinet, finding various medicines, condoms, and even pads, but not the bottle he described. The sight of the pads reminds you of a story Mor told where she had told Cassian she was on her period and his response was, “let’s get messy, baby.” You shake the memory away, heading back to tell him the bad news.

“Bad news bud - no medicine.”

He groans, “where the hell did I have it last?” He starts muttering to himself, hoping he didn’t leave it at the gym, when he points to you.

“It’s next door - Az has it. I stuffed it in his gym bag. Could you go check for me?”

Last time you saw Azriel, you had fallen asleep on his thighs, most likely drooling over them in your slumber.

You woke up to a dark room, the tv screen black with disuse. You lift your head, your hand using the pillow to push yourself up. You move your head to find hazel eyes looking into your own.

Your head is a few inches off his thigh, your hand wrapped around it for support.

“Um, hi,” you say, a moment later realizing your hand was on his thigh, quickly pulling it away. You take a quick moment to check the side of your mouth with your hand, praying to any god that will listen that you weren’t drooling on him.

“Hi,” he tells you, “you missed a good movie.”

“Rain check?” You ask, and he chuckles.

“Are you going to fall asleep again?”

“If you ask me, no, but if you ask my friend Feyre, the answer is likely yes.”

He laughs, and you realize his hand is in your hair, as he untangles your hair from his fingers.

“That’s okay. We’ll just have to keep watching it until eventually you make it to the end.”

“Uh, yeah, sure Cass.”

You start to leave, but Feyre grabs your arm. “I just told Cassian about how we’re going axe throwing. I invited him and his brothers.”

Feyre winks at you as she’s turned away from Cassian, and you give her a look.

Nosey busybody. All because you had told her you fell asleep on Azriel last night. And how he was so kind to help you drop the truck off. And how damningly beautiful he was.

Curse your big mouth.

“You should ask them if they want to come while you’re over there. Cassian’s coming, if they’ll find that enticing.”

Her words mean one thing, but her eyebrow waggling screams, I don’t think Cassian will be the reason one of them comes.

You wander over next door, knocking as you approach their door. Your mind starts wandering while you wait for a response, and you wonder if they used to always meet in Rhys and Az’s apartment.

Your thoughts still when Azriel opens the door, surprise on his face as he looks at you. He’s shirtless, his tan chest on full display, some black shadow-esque tattoos adorning his shoulders. Your eyes trace the design, roving over his muscular chest.

You want to lick them.

You shake the intrusive thought away, and Azriel grins ever so slightly at your blatant ogling of him. You tell him, “Uh Cassian’s knee is acting up and he said he thinks his meds are in your gym bag?”

He opens the door wider, letting you in. “What’d he do to mess up his knee this time?”

You follow him as he leads you into the apartment, your words dying on your tongue, “something about getting too ambitious with a girl - what the fuck?”

Azriel stops to find you staring at their tv, an absolutely massive screen mounted to their wall. It practically takes up most of the wall, and you imagine watching a movie on it would feel life-sized. “And I thought Cassian had the biggest tv I’d ever seen.”

Azriel chuckles, “they got drunk one night and started having a pissing contest over who was bigger, and it escalated to them both buying absurdly large televisions.”

He rolls his eyes at the memory of them drunkenly purchasing tvs online, forgetting about the ordeal until they appeared a few days later, Cassian refusing to use Rhys’s tv for a week in solidarity of his manhood.

You two start moving towards Azriel’s room, worry brewing in your mind over what to do. To follow could be overstepping, to linger could be weird. He leaves his door wide open, looking back to see if you’re following, so you decide to be brave and step through his door.

His room is dark, black out curtains with tiny moons sewn into them adorning his windows. His bed is neatly made, a deep blue comforter laying on top. Your eyes are drawn to the little bat stuffed animal that sits on his pillows.

His room is neat - dirty clothes kept in a hamper in the corner, books neatly stacked on his nightstand and on a bookshelf. He even has paper tray organizers on his desk.

His laptop is open at his desk, the screen still lit with whatever he was doing before you knocked. You see a familiar photo of you and Mor on the screen before it cuts to black, leaving you confused.

You shake the thoughts away, telling him “I like the little bat.”

He stills, looking over at the thing. His face falls a bit, but he quickly corrects it, going back to his search for the bag.

“Thanks, Cass got it for me.”

“That’s sweet,” you tell him.

You breathe deeply, the air in the room shifting, but you’re not really sure why. You don’t want this to be the end of your interaction with him, so you ask, “so Cassian told me you’re a personal trainer?”

He bends over to pick up his gym bag from the floor, your eyes roving down his toned back to the shorts that generously show off his thighs. Maybe you could join their gym if you got to see him like this, tanned thighs and chest on full display.

“Yeah, he helped me get the job, actually. I’ve been working a lot more over the summer, trying to save money for when classes are in session.”

You nod, as he finds the bottle in his bag. “Do you like it?”

He walks back over to you, escorting you out of his room. “S’okay. Cassian’s much better at it than I am, but it’s not hard.”

You nod, wondering how both of them are at their jobs. You can imagine Cassian being loud and rambuctious, a personality trait you can’t see him without. Shouting motivational words as you squat. On the other hand you can see Azriel being calm, quiet, his presence hardly noticeable as you train, offering occasional motivation but knowing what his clients actually need is just someone there.

He reaches his hand out to give you the bottle, and you break your eye contact with him to grab it. His fingers brush over your hand, electricity crackling on your skin from his touch.

You look at his hands, noticing them for the first time. Covered in scars, the skin is scarred over, the texture rough and uneven. His touch is soft and warm, a contrast to the harshness of his hands. You don’t let your eyes linger on his hand for too long, worrying you’re invading his privacy.

You duck your head down, fighting the heat on your cheeks from his touch. If he notices, he doesn’t let on as you pull your hand back with the bottle, uncertain how long your hands had been in contact.

“Thanks I um, Cassian will appreciate this.” You give him a toothless smile, one that he matches. His eyes have a look about them, but you can’t spend too long thinking about it, especially considering Feyre was likely conspiring with Cassian as you two spoke.

“I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing before,” you say, reaching for the doorknob.

“I’ll see you later,” he tells you.

Your hand stills on the knob and you turn to look back at him. “Are you doing anything today? Around 3?”

He shakes his head no, “not really - why?”

“My friend Feyre and I are going to go to this place to try out axe throwing and I was wondering if you wanted to come with?”

His eyes widen in surprise, but you continue before he can reject you.

“Um Cassian’s coming, and Rhys is invited too if he wanted to come. It’s no big deal if you guys don’t want to - Feyre and I probably won’t be any good.”

He watches you tuck your hair behind your ear and he realizes you’re rambling. Despite how cute he finds it, how cute he finds you, he cuts you off. “I’ll come - I’ll text Rhys too.”

You smile broadly at him, a sight he’ll definitely be thinking about until he sees you again, “okay, um yeah I’ll uh see you then? You can come over to our place and we can all leave together.”

You’re about to leave again when you backtrack, “uh, come over at 2:30 so we can leave together. See you then!”

After you’ve left, he listens to your feet pad down the hall, and the door to the apartment next door opening and closing. He looks to the wall that separates your apartments, as if he can see you giving Cassian the medicine.

He trudges back to his room, furling and unfurling his fist, his skin hot from your touch. The image of you looking at his hands printed in his brain. You didn’t look at him in pity, perhaps the first person to do so. You looked at him like he was resilient, like he was more than what happened to him, like he was more than the scars littering his hands.

He lets the thoughts whirl in his brain as he logs back into his laptop, the screen lighting up with your social media pages he had been scrolling through. He tells himself it’s just to see who Cassian is living with and if she can be trusted, if she seems okay. He also decides if she happens to be seeing anyone is also pertinent information.

For Cassian’s safety, of course.

[nebuliias]

Your probably busy with your own life but is it alright if I could request reader being the younger sibling of Sunday and Robin

Do you know the scene where Robin gets 'killed'? what if instead of Robin it was the reader? how would Sunday and Robin react to the news of their younger sibling getting 'killed'?

Thank you for your time and have a great day/noon/night!!

SYNOPSIS. . . With the Charmony Festival nearing by the day, the revered Halovian siblings start getting anxious when their kin hasn’t been heard of for days.

CHARACTERS FEATURED. . . sunday and robin

CW: hurt/no comfort (I tried), gn and sibling! reader, they’re your biological older siblings, potential spoilers, platonic, like one mention of Gopher Wood, reader is aged 16 and a Nameless

— A/N’s note: HIIII EVERYONE. wow i actually posted something since who knows how long LMAO. so sorry for lack of updates, motivation has been very low and dry lately. anyways NEW FORMAT everyone

The air in Dewlight Pavilion was thick with worry and tension as the Charmony Festival’s date approached. The legendary siblings, Sunday and Robin, were together in the study room, their faces betraying their concern.

Their precious youngest sibling—basically, you—had promised yesterday to pay a visit in Moment of Morning Dew since you haven’t seen them for so long, considering your occupation as a Nameless.

Normally, Sunday, your protective older brother, would let your delays slide—if only it wasn’t for the fact that you were three hours late.

As for Robin, she nervously combed her fingers through her hair while adjusting her dainty neck pieces. “Brother, perhaps you should sit down for awhile? You’ve been pacing back and forth for awhile. Maybe they’re just visiting some shop or strolling—”

“Robin, it’s been three long hours,” he abruptly stated. “I’m pretty sure they’re not strolling around at some random park in the Dreamscape. They’re always punctual, you know that!” The man sighed, eventually sitting down beside his younger sister.

Poor Sunday, he was visibly anxious and worried. He plucked at several loose hair strands and feathers from the wings by his ears. Ever the neat perfectionist, it was ironic to see him in such a distressed state. But Robin couldn’t blame him.

It had been a pretty long time after all…

Just when she was about to excuse herself to use to the restroom, a Bloodhound guard came bursting through the grand wooden doors, a manilla folder in his sweaty hand.

“Ah, Mr. Sunday..! Oh, and hello, Miss Robin,” he panted. “My deepest apologies for interrupting whatever was happening, but I have urgent news to report.”

Sunday rapidly approached the man. “What happened? Hold on, is this about..?”

“Yes,” the Bloodhound confirmed. “Another person has fallen victim to ‘Death.’ We’ve gathered enough information, but I’m afraid you’ll be displeased who said person was.”

There was a moment of silence as Sunday split the folder open, revealing three sheets of paper. His hand trembled ever so slightly as he picked up a sheet, already thinking the worst.

Please, don’t let it be who I think it is.

Robin, who was peering over his shoulder, audibly gasped, stumbling back with a gloved hand at her mouth, muffling the incoming sobs. “No.. No, it can’t be!”

The Bloodhound bowed deeply, his face contorted in distress. “My condolences, Mr. Sunday and Miss Robin, but Y/N.. was killed by the Memory Zone Meme.”

The siblings stared blankly at the papers spread out on the desk.

•••

Name: Y/N L/N

Family: Gopher Wood, Dreammaster and adoptive father | Sunday, Oak Family Head and older brother | Robin, cosmic superstar and older sister.

Age: 16

Affliation: Nameless

Cause of death: Memory Zone Meme, “Death”—stab wound through the heart.

•••

There were several photographs taken of the scene, and Robin felt overwhelming nausea at the mere sight of it. Her body went rigidly stiff, her chest rose and fell slowly, and the world around her blurred. One hand shielded her lips and the other was put over her heart.

Meanwhile, Sunday’s strong-willed heart shattered. He felt so many things at once: shock, fury, sadness, despair—basically every negative emotion wrote in the dictionary. Yet at the same time, he didn’t know what to feel.

After awhile, the Halovian idol stood up, her legs now jittery from the sudden revelation. She took in a shaky deep breath before exhaling, not daring to break down in front of her brother. “…I’m going to use the restroom.” With that, she slowly walked out of the study, leaving the revered leader alone with his turmoil.

None of them couldn’t think straight, but who could blame them? Their sibling was dead. Their youngest sibling was dead. Their kin was dead. Their determined Nameless. Their sibling was dead.

Sunday, now isolated, suddenly felt hot beneath his clothing. His mind was disturbed, and his blue-gray wings twitched madly. He didn’t know how to act, but in the end, he let out a cry and ripped the papers apart along with the photographs before throwing the folder in a nearby trash can.

Oh, how he felt like diving into it himself. He felt like trash itself now—unwanted, crumbled, and torn apart.

Back with Robin, she ran past several Oak Family servants and dashed into the restroom, madly locking the door to ensure no one would run into her. She fell against the toilet and heaved into it, her nausea reaching its brink.

After the ordeal, she wiped her mouth before staring at herself in the mirror, unable to hold back her sadness anymore. Transparent tears poured down her flawless face, carving dry rivers in their run. Sorrowful sobs sounded from her throat, her once melodious voice now gone harsh.

Poor you. Poor, poor, poor, you. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve any of this. You didn’t deserve to have your life crushed like a ladybug.

Just.. why..?

all rights reserved © nebuliias. do not copy, re-upload, or plagiarize my fics. if you see anyone doing this to my work, LET ME KNOW.

[lila-lou]

✨His second exception - Pt. 9/?✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, fluff, hurt/angst

Word Count: 7118

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 9 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The next two weeks, Ben and you spent most of your time either at the tower or at home together, finding a new rhythm in your relationship. The days were filled with a comforting routine of work and shared moments, allowing you both to heal and grow closer again.

Your parents hadn’t reached out to you since the night they came over, and you were beginning to wonder if the confrontation had left a lasting rift. But then, today, you received a text from your mom, inviting you both over for dinner on Sunday. The fact that she included Ben in the invitation surprised you, but it also gave you hope that they were willing to try to accept your relationship.

Right now, you walked into Ben’s office to tell him the news. He was sitting at his desk, engrossed in some paperwork, but he looked up as soon as you entered.

“Hey”, he greeted, leaning back in his chair. “What’s up?”.

You took a seat across from him, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. “I just got a text from my mom. She invited us over for dinner on Sunday”.

Ben’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Us? As in both of us?”.

You nodded, unable to hide your own surprise. “Yeah, both of us. I think they’re trying to make an effort”.

“That’s… unexpected”.

You took a deep breath, wanting to be sensitive to Ben’s feelings. “So, what do you think? Are you okay with going?”.

Ben’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Are you asking me if I’m okay with having dinner with my girlfriend’s parents who might just be trying to accept me? Hmm, let me think…”.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Ben, seriously. I know it might be a bit awkward, and I don’t want to force you into anything you’re uncomfortable with”.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. “Well, I’m not going to lie and say I’m fucking thrilled. But if this is a chance to mend things and make them see how happy we are together, then I’m in”.

You chuckled at Ben's straightforward response, appreciating his honesty. "Alright, fair enough. Thank you".

Ben grinned mischievously, his eyes gleaming with playful intent. "Since I'm agreeing to potentially survive a dinner with your folks, can I ask for something else in return?".

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Depends on what you're asking for".

Ben leaned back in his chair, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Well”, he started, his tone lowering, “you know, all week you’ve been too tired to even let me touch you”.

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks as he continued, his voice turning even more suggestive. “I think now would be the perfect time to… well, you know, make it up to me”.

Your blush deepened at his bold words, and you could hardly meet his gaze. “Ben”, you stammered, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “That’s… quite the request”.

He chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Just think of it as a little motivation for me to get through dinner. What do you say?”.

You bit your lip, trying to gather your thoughts. Part of you wanted to tease him right back, but another part was genuinely flustered by his boldness.

"Alright", you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter in your stomach. "But you better behave yourself during dinner".

Ben's grin widened, clearly enjoying your reaction. He leaned back in his chair, patting his lap playfully. "C'mere", he murmured.

Your cheeks burned even hotter at his audacity, but you couldn't deny the thrill that shot through you. You walked over to him, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement.

As you straddled his lap, Ben wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, "You know, you drive me crazy sometimes".

You chuckled softly, feeling his warmth against you. "I guess that's why you put up with me".

Ben’s eyes darkened with desire as he pulled away slightly, his hands deftly unbuttoning your blouse. He took his time, savoring each moment as he revealed the smooth skin of your chest. When he had your blouse open, he gently tugged your bra down, just enough to expose your nipples.

You shivered at the sensation of the cool air on your skin, combined with the heat of his gaze. Ben leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck. His breath was warm against your skin as he took his time, his lips brushing over your collarbone and then lower, leaving a trail of soft kisses. You felt your breath hitch as he hovered just above one of your nipples, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“Look at you”, he murmured. “You get all worked up so easily. Just a touch, and you’re already trembling”.

You bit your lip, again feeling a blush spread across your cheeks.

He finally took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak. You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders to steady yourself. Ben sucked gently, then harder, drawing a moan from your lips.

“That’s right”, he murmured against your skin. “Let me hear you. You’re mine, and I want to know just how much you need this”.

His words were rough, but the pleasure he was giving you was undeniable. You arched your back, pressing closer to him, feeling the heat between your bodies.

Ben didn’t lose much time. He knew that sucking on your nipples was more than enough to make you wet, so without hesitation, he opened the pants of his suit, pulling out his already hard dick. He held you up with one arm, his strength making it easy, while his other hand grabbed his dick.

Without the need for his words, you quickly pulled up your skirt and pushed your panties aside, a shiver running through you at the anticipation. The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, and you gasped at the sensation.

“You’re so ready for me”, he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Just can’t wait to have me inside you, can you?”.

You nodded, biting your lip to stifle a moan as he began to push inside, stretching and filling you in a way that made you feel complete. His grip on your waist tightened, guiding you down onto him inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed within you.

The feeling was intense, the mix of pleasure and the sheer physicality of it taking your breath away. Ben’s eyes never left yours, his gaze fierce and possessive. “That’s it”, he growled softly. “Take all of me”.

You whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support as you began to gently move your hips, adjusting to the feel of him inside you. Ben tried his best to give you the time you needed, his grip on your waist steadying you as you found your rhythm.

“Just like that”, he whispered, his voice rough with restraint.

You moved slowly at first, savoring the sensation of being so intimately connected. Each shift of your hips brought a new wave of pleasure, the friction sending sparks through your body. Ben’s eyes were locked onto yours, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and adoration.

Encouraged by his steadying presence, you gradually increased your pace, your movements becoming more confident. Ben’s breath hitched as you rode him, his hands guiding you but allowing you to take control.

“You’re doing so well”, he murmured.

You missed feeling him like this so much. The intimacy, the connection, the way he made you feel—everything about being with Ben was perfect. You’d always heard horror stories about how Supes could hurt or even kill people during sex, but with Ben, it was pure pleasure. He was always careful with his strength, and although sometimes he underestimated it, the most you ever experienced were some soreness and a few bruises.

You couldn’t imagine ever sleeping with someone else. Ben just knew how to push every single one of your buttons.

As you moved on top of him, finding a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through both of you, his hands guided you, his touch grounding and reassuring.

The connection between you was palpable, a silent understanding that transcended words. You felt safe with him, cherished. Each thrust, each touch, brought you closer together, both physically and emotionally.

Ben’s hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing, his breath coming in short, heated bursts. “You feel so good”, he murmured. “I’ve missed this, missed you”.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “I’ve missed you too, Ben. So much”.

Your words seemed to ignite something in him, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust up into you, meeting your movements with a newfound intensity. You gasped, the pleasure almost too much to bear, but you didn’t want it to stop. You wanted to hold on to this moment, to the feeling of being so completely connected to him.

As the pleasure built to a crescendo, you felt yourself teetering on the edge. “Ben”, you moaned, your voice a desperate plea. “I’m so close”.

His eyes locked onto yours. “Come for me”, he urged, his voice a rough whisper.

With a final, deep thrust, you felt the wave of your orgasm crash over you. Ben followed right behind, his release mingling with yours as he groaned your name, his hands holding you close.

For a moment, you stayed like that, bodies entwined, hearts pounding in unison.

After a while, Ben gently lifted you up, his strength effortless and tender. As he pulled your panties back in place, his softening dick fell against his stomach. He grinned mischievously, whispering, “Keep it inside”, a playful glint in his eyes, referring to his cum.

You blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and arousal at his boldness. Just then, the door to Ben’s office swung open, and MM stepped in. “Ah man, fuck that!”, he exclaimed, quickly covering his eyes with his hand. “Seriously? You guys can’t even keep it in the bedroom?”.

Ben grumbled under his breath as MM stood awkwardly in the doorway, his hand still covering his eyes. “Can’t you fucking knock or something?”, Ben said, his tone half amused, half annoyed.

MM dropped his hand from his eyes, shooting Ben a playful glare. “You’re lucky I walked in and not someone else. You two really need to learn some damn boundaries”.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a laugh as you straightened your clothes. “Sorry about that, MM”, you said, feeling a bit flustered.

MM grumbled, shaking his head in exasperation. “This is the third time now I’ve walked in on you two. Apparently, some people need to learn to keep it in their pants”.

Ben chuckled. “Maybe you just enjoy the show. Learning anything new each time?”.

MM shot him a deadpan look. “Yeah, I’ve learned that you have zero boundaries”.

Just then, the door opened again, and Annie and Butcher walked in. By now, you were fully dressed, but your flushed face told exactly what you had been up to.

Annie took one look at your face and raised an eyebrow. “Did we miss something?”.

Butcher, always direct, smirked. “Blimey, don’t tell me you two were at it again”.

You raised your hand, a mixture of frustration and embarrassment evident in your voice. “Does anyone here fucking knock?”.

Annie chuckled, shaking her head. “Clearly not”.

Butcher shot back with a smirk, “Well love, you wouldn’t need to worry if Ben could keep his dick inside his pants for more than two minutes”.

Ben rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Butcher”.

Butcher snorted. “Hardly. Just trying to keep this team somewhat professional”.

MM sighed, stepping in to redirect the conversation. “Alright, enough. Can we please focus on the task at hand?”.

Ben looked up, his eyes hopeful as he asked, “What task? Please tell me it’s something more exciting than paperwork. I’m about to lose my fucking shit with all these reports”.

Annie smirked, knowing how much Ben despised paperwork. “Don’t worry. We might have something that’ll get you out from behind that desk”.

MM nodded, pointing to the folders on the table. “We’ve got intel on one of Vought’s key labs. It’s heavily guarded, but if we hit it, we might get the leverage we need”.

Ben’s eyes lit up at the prospect of action. “Finally, something worth doing”. He glanced at you with a grin. “No offense to you and your love for that shit”.

You laughed, shaking your head. “None taken. Someone has to keep this team organized”.

Ben turned to MM, his excitement barely contained. “Kimiko, A-Train and that french fuck. Tell them to meet us in the meeting room. I’ll be there in a few minutes”.

MM nodded, already moving towards the door. “Got it”, he said, leaving the room to gather the rest of the team.

With the others gone, Ben looked back at you, leaning against his desk with a smile. "You okay?”.

You chuckled. “Besides the fact that I can feel your cum soaking my fucking panties?”.

Ben’s grin widened, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Well, you did promise to keep it inside”, he replied, his tone equally teasing.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t suppress your own smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”.

“I aim to please”, he said, his voice low and affectionate. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you in a quick, comforting embrace. As he held you, he murmured into your ear, “I won’t be gone long. Maybe a few hours. You look out for yourself, okay?”.

You rolled your eyes playfully, mumbling, “Of course”. As you said it, Ben’s fingers found their way to the necklace around your neck—the one he had given you for your birthday. He gently played with the pendant, his touch a reminder of his affection and the bond you shared.

“You still like it?”, he asked.

“Of course I do”, you replied, your voice tender. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips and whispered, “It reminds me who I belong to”, you teased, your eyes sparkling with affection.

Ben’s grin widened, a flicker of pride and warmth in his eyes. “Good”, he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “And don’t you forget it”.

He gave you one last squeeze before reluctantly pulling away. “Time to get to work”, he said, his tone shifting to a more serious note. “I’ll see you soon”.

You nodded, watching as he turned and headed towards the meeting room. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the task ahead and feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

Inside the meeting room, the team was already gathered around the table, reviewing the intel. MM had spread out the maps and documents, and Frenchie was studying them intently, pointing out key areas to Kimiko and A-Train.

“Alright pussys”, Ben said, taking charge. “We’ve got a solid plan, but we need to execute it perfectly. Frenchie, you and your chick will handle the infiltration. A-Train, you’re on distraction duty with me. We need to keep their attention away from the lab as long as possible”.

Frenchie nodded, his eyes sharp with focus. “Understood. We’ll disable their security systems and get in and out quickly”.

Kimiko gave a silent nod of agreement, her expression determined.

A-Train crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips. “Chaos is my middle name. They won’t know what hit them”.

As Sunday arrived, you found yourself standing in front of your parents’ house, feeling a mix of nerves and anticipation. Ben stood beside you, grumbling under his breath.

“Why couldn’t I just wear simple jeans?”, he muttered, adjusting the collar of his beige dress shirt. You had convinced him to wear beige slacks and a matching dress shirt, a more formal look than he usually preferred.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his discomfort. “Because we’re trying to make a good impression, Ben. Besides, you look really handsome”.

He huffed, shifting uncomfortably. “These pants are squeezing my fucking dick”.

“Well, maybe that’s because your dick is just too big”, you said with a playful smile.

Ben raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh, so now my dick is a problem? I don’t remember you complaining last night”, he teased back, leaning in closer.

You felt your cheeks flush but managed to keep your composure. “I didn’t say it was a problem. Just an observation”, you replied, giving him a sly grin.

Ben leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “Well, if my size is such a concern, maybe we should give it another go tonight, just to make sure it’s not too much for you".

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a giggle. “Oh, really? And what makes you think I’d want to endure that kind of ‘torment’ again?”.

Ben's grin widened. “Because I remember how you were begging me for more, while I was balls deep inside you, fucking you stupid”.

Your cheeks flamed with heat, and you quickly placed a hand over his mouth, your eyes wide with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Ben!”, you hissed, trying to keep your voice low. “We’re about to go inside! Can you please behave for just a little while?”.

He laughed softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he gently pulled your hand away. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave. But don’t think this conversation is over”, he whispered.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t suppress a smile. “We’ll see. Now, let’s go make a good impression”.

With a final shared grin, you turned to the door and rang the bell. Moments later, your mother opened it, her face lighting up with a warm smile.

“Hello, sweetheart”, she said, pulling you into a hug. “Ben, it’s good to see you”.

Ben smiled politely, shaking her hand. “Good to see you too, Mary".

With that, you stepped inside, the familiar scent of your childhood home enveloping you. Your dad emerged from the living room with a beer in his hand. He hugged you warmly, and then turned to Ben. Taking a deep breath, your dad held out his hand. “Ben”, he mumbled as a greeting.

Ben accepted the handshake firmly, meeting your dad’s eyes with a respectful nod. “Frank. Thanks for having me”.

Your dad gave a curt nod, releasing Ben’s hand. “Dinner’s almost ready”.

The atmosphere felt a bit tense, but you were determined to make the evening go smoothly. “Let’s go to the living room”, you suggested, leading Ben through the familiar layout of your home.

In the living room, your mom had already set out some appetizers on the coffee table. “Help yourselves”, she said, gesturing to the array of snacks. “Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes”.

As you all settled into the living room, you could see Ben making an effort to be polite and engaging. He started a conversation with your dad about sports, quickly finding common ground in their shared interest.

“So, who do you think is going to take the championship this year?”, Ben asked, genuinely interested.

Your dad relaxed a bit, appreciating the familiar topic. “Hard to say. The league’s pretty competitive this season. What do you think?”.

They continued chatting, the tension in the room gradually easing. You caught your mother’s eye and she gave you a small, encouraging smile.

After a while, you stood up and held out a hand for Ben. “Come on, I’ll show you my old room”, you grinned.

Ben took your hand and got up, following you with a curious grin. As you led him upstairs, he couldn’t resist pinching your ass roughly with one of his big palms. You jumped slightly, shooting him a playful glare.

“Behave”, you whispered, trying to suppress your smile.

Ben chuckled softly. “No promises”, he whispered back, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you led Ben down the hallway to your old room. You opened the door and stepped inside, memories flooding back as you looked around. The room was much the same as you had left it, with posters on the walls and a few personal items still on the shelves.

Ben looked around, taking in the details of your old room. His eyes landed on a picture of you in your cheerleader uniform, and he grinned. “Oh, so you were one of those girls?”, he teased, picking up the photo to get a closer look.

You blushed slightly, rolling your eyes. “Yes, I was a cheerleader. Got a problem with that?”.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not at all. Just didn’t picture you as the cheerleader type. You look cute in that uniform, though”.

You snatched the photo from his hand, laughing. “Oh, stop it. That was ages ago”.

Ben’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he took a step closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Actually, I should have known”, he murmured, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “It explains your… flexibility”.

You blushed even deeper, giving him a playful shove. “Ben!”.

He laughed softly, pulling you closer. “What? I’m just stating the facts”, he said, his voice low and full of mischief. “You can’t deny it”.

You tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re impossible”.

Ben leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Do you still have that little uniform?”, he whispered.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you serious?”.

His grin widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Absolutely. I think it could make for an interesting evening”.

You laughed, shaking your head. You started to turn away, but Ben’s grip around your waist tightened, pulling you back against him. “I’m serious”, he said, his tone playful yet insistent.

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And what exactly do you have in mind for this ‘interesting evening’?”.

“I have a few ideas. But let’s just say it involves you, me, and that uniform”.

You nodded with reddened cheeks towards your closet. Ben’s eyes sparkled with anticipation as he made his way over to the closet. He opened the door, rifling through the clothes until he found the uniform. A big smirk appeared on his face as he held it up, examining it with a playful glint in his eye.

“I knew you’d still have it”, he said, his voice a mix of amusement and satisfaction.

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “I can’t believe you’re actually making me do this”.

Ben walked back over to you, the uniform still in his hand. “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun”, he teased, leaning down to kiss you gently. “And besides, I think you’ll look amazing in it”.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. Ben handed you the uniform, then turned back to the closet with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Anything else interesting in here?”, he asked, grinning over his shoulder as he opened the top drawer.

“Ben!”, you protested, feeling your cheeks flush even more. “Stop snooping around!”.

But he ignored you, his grin widening as he rummaged through the drawer. “What do we have here?”, he murmured, pulling out an old diary and a few trinkets from your high school days. He flipped through the diary playfully, pretending to read. “Dear diary, today I—”.

You snatched the diary from his hands, laughing despite yourself. “Alright, that’s enough. Get out of there!”.

Ben chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop”.

He looked around the room again, his eyes landing on a photo of you at your prom. He picked it up, studying it for a moment before grinning. “Alright, we got everything”, he said, handing you the photo to take along with your uniform.

You rolled your eyes but took the photo and placed it, along with the uniform, in a small bag. “Happy now?”, you asked with a playful sigh.

“Very”, he replied, his grin widening as he took your hand.

You both walked out of the room, making your way back downstairs. As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you could hear your parents talking softly in the dining room. You and Ben exchanged a quick, reassuring glance before entering the room.

Your parents looked up as you entered, smiles on their faces. “Everything alright?”, your mom asked.

“Yeah, just showing Ben around a bit”, you replied, taking your seat at the table.

As you began to eat, your mom and dad tried their best to engage with Ben, wanting to get to know him better. Your mom hesitated for a moment before asking, “So, Ben, what was it like in Russia?”.

You saw a flicker of discomfort cross Ben’s face, but you gently placed your hand on his thigh, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He took a deep breath and began to speak. “Well, it wasn’t easy”, he started, his voice steady but filled with underlying tension. “I spent decades there, subjected to all kinds of torture”.

Your parents listened intently, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. Ben continued, “They were trying to break me, control me. But instead, I became stronger. They conducted experiments on me that enhanced my abilities”.

Your dad leaned forward, clearly interested. “Enhanced how?”.

Ben glanced at you briefly. “They upgraded my powers, made me more resilient. My strength and durability were significantly increased. It was hell, but in the end, I came out of it stronger than ever”.

Your dad leaned back slightly, his gaze shifting from Ben to you, a protective glint in his eyes. “Do you know how to control those powers and, even more, that strength?”, he asked, his tone cautious.

Ben’s jaw tightened, and he tried his best not to roll his eyes. “I’m America’s first superhero”, he grumbled. “Of course I know how to control my powers”.

Your dad didn’t back down, his eyes fixed on Ben. “Can you blame me for asking? She’s my daughter, and I’ve worked with supes long enough to know how they treat humans, especially the male supes. And I know firsthand about your short temper, Ben”.

The room fell silent for a moment, the tension palpable. You tightened your grip on Ben’s thigh, silently urging him to stay calm.

Ben took a deep breath, his eyes softening slightly as he looked at your dad. “I understand your concern”, he said, his voice more measured. “But you have my word that I would never hurt her. I care about her more than anything".

Your dad nodded slowly, seeming to weigh Ben’s words. “I appreciate that, Ben. But you have to understand, as a father, it’s my job to worry. I’ve seen too much to simply ignore the risks”.

Ben nodded, his expression serious. “I get it. And I respect that. But I want you to know that I would do anything to protect her. She’s my world”.

Your dad’s gaze softened a bit, and he seemed to accept Ben’s sincerity. “Alright”, he said, finally. “That’s all I needed to hear”.

Your mom, sensing the tension easing, quickly shifted the conversation to a lighter topic. “So, Ben, do you have any hobbies or interests outside of being a supe?”.

Ben glanced at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Well, I enjoy spending time with her”.

Your mom couldn’t help but roll her eyes with a soft grin. “Well, and besides clearly charming my daughter?”.

Ben shrugged playfully. “Nah, that’s it. She’s a full-time job”.

Your dad chuckled at that, and the tension in the room eased even further. Your mom laughed too, shaking her head. “Come on, there has to be something else. Hobbies? Interests?”.

Ben leaned back, considering. “I like working out and staying in top shape”.

You looked at Ben, biting your lip with a small smile. “He also likes whiskey”, you mumbled, glancing towards your dad, knowing it was one of his interests too.

Your dad’s eyes lit up with genuine interest. “Whiskey, huh? What’s your favorite?”.

Ben grinned. “I’m a fan of a good single malt scotch. Lagavulin 16, if I had to pick”.

Your dad nodded appreciatively.

Your dad nodded appreciatively. With that, he stood up. “Come on”, he said, gesturing for Ben to follow him into the living room where his bar was set up.

Ben glanced at you, a mix of curiosity and eagerness in his eyes. You smiled encouragingly. “Go ahead. I’ll help Mom clean up”.

Ben gave you a quick squeeze of your hand before following your dad. You turned to your mom, who was already starting to clear the table. “Need some help?”, you asked.

Your mom smiled warmly. “Always. Thank you”.

As you collected plates and carried them to the kitchen, you couldn’t help but overhear snippets of the conversation between your dad and Ben in the living room. The clinking of glasses and the low murmur of voices reassured you that they were kinda getting along well.

In the kitchen, your mom handed you a dish towel. As you began to dry the dishes, you hesitated for a moment, then decided to broach the topic that had been on your mind all evening.

“Mom”, you said carefully, “have some of your reservations about Ben eased tonight?”.

She sighed softly, pausing as she washed a plate. “I won’t lie, I still have some concerns. It’s not easy to just set aside everything about supes and their history. But…”.

You looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue.

She glanced at you, a small smile forming on her lips. “But I can see that he genuinely cares about you. And he’s been respectful and open with us tonight. That counts for a lot”.

You nodded, feeling a bit of relief. “He really does care about me, Mom. And he’s trying hard to make things work”.

Your mom dried her hands and turned to face you, her expression softening. “I can see that. And I can see how happy he makes you. That’s what’s most important to me and your father”.

You smiled, feeling a swell of gratitude. “Thank you, Mom. It means a lot to hear you say that”.

She pulled you into a hug. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay? Love can make us do crazy things sometimes, and I want you to stay safe”.

“I promise”, you replied, hugging her tightly. “I’ll be careful”.

After a while, she looked at you again, a hesitant expression on her face. She took a deep breath before speaking. “Stop me if the topic is too sensitive, considering, well, you know. But… does Ben really want kids?”.

You swallowed, your gaze drifting to the living room. Ben, as if sensing your eyes on him, looked over and gave you a quick wink. You smiled back before turning to your mom.

“He does, Mom. He really does. Having kids has always been his dream. Before we found out I was pregnant, he never thought he’d get the chance to have a family of his own”.

Your mom’s eyes softened with understanding. “I see. That must have been difficult for him”.

You nodded. “It was. But now, he’s so excited. If it were up to him, we’d have a whole kindergarten”, you joked.

Your mom chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I hope you won’t say yes to a whole kindergarten. One or two grandkids at a time would be just fine”.

You laughed, feeling the tension ease. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll start with one and see how it goes”.

Your mom looked at you, her expression thoughtful. “Do you know if the baby would be a supe too?”, she asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.

You took a deep breath, thinking back to the conversations you had with the doctors at Vought while you were pregnant. “The doctors at Vought explained that there’s a high likelihood the baby would inherit some of Ben’s abilities”, you said slowly. “They couldn’t guarantee exactly which powers or how strong they’d be, but they said it was almost certain the baby would be a supe”.

Your mom nodded, absorbing the information. “How do you feel about that?”.

You paused, considering your feelings. “It’s a bit scary, to be honest”, you admitted. “The idea of raising a child with powers is daunting. But Ben has been incredibly supportive, and he’s confident that we can handle it together. Plus, having him as a guide and role model would make a huge difference”.

Your mom looked at you with concern. “Do the doctors think your body can handle nine months of a pregnancy, considering everything?”.

You sighed. “It’s definitely challenging”, you admitted. “There were some complications early on, but the doctors developed a special medication to help. They call it V-Med. It’s designed to strengthen my body and help it cope with the demands of carrying a supe baby”.

Your mom’s eyes widened slightly. “V-Med? Is it safe?”.

You mumbled, “Since I’m the first and likely last woman who’ll carry a supe baby, there’s no way to tell for sure. We just have to try”.

Your mom gave you an unsure look, her worry evident. “But you’re okay with this?”.

You tried to reassure her, your voice steady. “The doctors did a very good job taking care of me in the first place. They were thorough and cautious”.

She sighed deeply, shaking her head. “Clearly, not good enough”.

You bit your lip, tears filling your eyes. The pain of the past was still raw, and you struggled to find the right words. “Mom”, you began, your voice trembling, “I didn’t lose the baby because of any medical issues”.

She looked at you, confusion and concern etched on her face. “Then what happened?”.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Homelander attacked me. That’s why he’s dead. Ben killed him right after, he’s not retired like the media says. And Ben still blames himself for not protecting me enough, even though he did all he could, always”.

Your mom gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, sweetheart”, she whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry you went through that”.

Ben tensed beside your father as his supe hearing caught the conversation between you and your mom in the kitchen. His grip tightened slightly on his glass, the painful memories flooding back. Your dad noticed the shift in Ben’s demeanor, his brows furrowing in concern.

“What are they talking about?”, your dad asked quietly, sensing something was wrong and knowing full well that Ben could hear every word being spoken in the kitchen.

Ben had to bite back his own emotions, the pain and guilt threatening to surface. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “They’re talking about what happened with Homelander”, he said, his voice controlled but strained.

Your dad’s eyes widened in understanding and concern. “I heard the official story, but…”, he trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

“The official story was a cover-up”, Ben said, his jaw tightening. “Homelander didn’t retire. He attacked her while she was pregnant”.

Your dad swallowed hard, digesting the heavy information. After a few moments of silence, marked by the soft clinking of ice in their glasses, he ventured another question, his voice cautious but firm. “Did you have him locked away?”.

Ben turned to face him directly, his expression grim and his eyes haunted. “I killed him”, he stated monotonously. The words hung in the air, stark and cold. He paused, then added quietly, “He nearly killed her and—”. His voice broke off, choked by the weight of what he was about to say next. The reality of the situation seemed to press down on him, making it impossible to voice the deepest part of his pain, that Homelander had killed his baby.

Your dad reached out, placing a hand on Ben’s shoulder, squeezing it firmly as a gesture of support. “You did what you had to do”, he said solemnly, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t even begin to imagine the choice you faced. But you acted to protect your family. That’s what any father would do”.

Ben looked down, nodding slowly, the acknowledgment from your father seeming to offer a small comfort amidst the torment of his memories. “It never feels like enough”, Ben admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I… Never mind”, Ben grumbled, emptying his glass. “I’ll just check on her”, he said, before walking towards the kitchen, followed closely by your dad.

As Ben entered the kitchen, he carefully placed a hand on your lower back, a gesture of comfort while you faced your mother. “Are you okay?”, he asked gently.

You looked up at him as he stood beside you, nodding, quickly wiping away a few tears. Trying to ease your momentary pain, Ben attempted a joke. “Oh no, you told her about the fucking iPads, didn’t you?”.

You chuckled, your eyes still wet. “No, I didn’t”, you replied, feeling a bit lighter.

Your mother looked puzzled, so you continued with the story. “Ben bought me three new iPads in one week. Every time the battery went low, he thought he had broken it and would go out and buy a new one”, you said, laughing at the memory.

Ben grinned sheepishly. “In my defense, I had never used an iPad before. I didn’t know the battery could be charged separately”.

Your mother joined in the laughter, her earlier worry momentarily forgotten. “That’s quite the learning curve”, she said, shaking her head in amusement.

Your dad, who had been standing quietly, finally spoke up, a smile tugging at his lips. “So, Ben, I guess technology isn’t your superpower?”.

Ben laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Definitely not. But I’m getting better at it. Now I know what those little lightning bolts on the screen mean”.

The shared laughter and light-hearted banter helped to lift the heavy atmosphere. Ben, with a gentle squeeze on your hip, said, “She taught me well, in more than one way”.

You didn’t just teach him about technology and all the stuff of the ‘new world’, but also in showing feelings, controlling feelings, and most importantly, learning to fall in love and accepting to be loved.

Again you looked up at him, smiling softly, knowing exactly what he meant. Ben cleared his throat, breaking the moment with a hint of playfulness. “Anyway, thanks for having us. Hopefully, you don’t think that poorly of me anymore. Like I said, your little firecracker here means the world to me, and even if she’s robbing me of every fucking last nerve, I will do everything to protect her”.

Your parents both chuckled at Ben’s remark, the tension easing further. Your mother stepped forward, her expression warm. “We don’t think poorly of you, Ben. It’s clear how much you care for our daughter, and that’s what matters most to us”.

Your dad nodded in agreement. “You’ve got our respect, Ben. Just keep taking care of each other”.

Ben smiled, his eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and relief. “Thank you”.

After a few more minutes of light conversation and farewells, you and Ben finally made your way to the car. As you settled into the passenger seat, you felt a sense of contentment and hope. The evening had turned out better than you had hoped, and it seemed like your parents were beginning to see Ben for who he truly was.

As Ben started the car and began to drive away, he glanced over at you. You were grinning widely, your eyes sparkling with joy. "They like you, Ben. I know my parents, and they really like you".

Ben chuckled, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Of course they do. What's not to like? I'm charming, good-looking, and I happen to have excellent taste in women".

You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully. "Oh, really? You think so highly of yourself, huh?".

He smirked, his confidence evident. "Well, I managed to win you over, didn't I?".

You shook your head, still smiling. "You're impossible". He just winked at you.

"Thank you for tonight, Ben. For everything. You handled everything so well… I love you", you said softly, looking at him with all the love you felt.

Ben glanced at you, his eyes warm and filled with emotion. "Love you too".

The rest of the drive was filled with comfortable silence, the kind that only comes from being with someone who truly understands you. As you pulled into the driveway of your home, you couldn't help but feel excited for the future.

Once inside, you both settled into the living room, the weight of the evening lifting from your shoulders. Ben pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you securely.

"So", he said with a playful grin, "about that teasing offer…".

You laughed, leaning into him. "I think we both deserve a little relaxation after tonight".

He nuzzled your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "I couldn't agree more".

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 🥰

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Part 10

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj @libby99hb @urgogodancer @urinternetmom

[kaiijo]

A GATHERING OF CLOUDS — BLADE

content: fem! reader, angst, bittersweet/open ending, generally follows the clouds leave no trace mission but i’ve taken some liberties, spoilers for post-xianzhou arc, reader is one of the ten stonehearts and goes by ‘tourmaline’ notes: this story mission broke my heart 

You sigh as you read through the massive file your department head dumped on you. From what you’ve skimmed through, it seems that there’s a problem you’ll have to arbitrate on the planet of Venovia regarding the building of their Quantum Collider. The problem is simple, really, just a matter of the neighboring planet refusing to grant clearance for the collider — did this report really have to go on for over seventy pages?

You’re about to flip to the next page when there’s a knock at your door. “Come in,” you call, eyes darting across the text in front of you. 

“Well, you look like you’ve got your work cut out for you,” Topaz says as she walks in, sitting down in the chair in front of you. 

You snort, looking up at her. “No rest for the wicked, I suppose. Yan Shilou gave me this yesterday and said a resolution had to be proposed by the end of the week.”

“Three days away, then. Better get on it!”

“I would be working on it now if someone wasn’t distracting me in my office,” you say but your voice lacks any irritation. 

Topaz laughs a little, “What? You don’t want me to say bye before I head to Jarilo-VI?”

“Aeons, that’s right! I forgot!” You open up the bottom drawer of your desk and root around, finally feeling your fingers brush against what you’re looking for. You pull it out and hand her the box, wrapped in a cream-colored paper and secured with an orange ribbon. 

She opens the gift, finding a pair of dark gloves identical to the ones she usually wears, but you explain, “There’s lined inside. Belobog’s eternal freeze is nothing to joke about.”

“Wow!” She slides them onto her hands and says, “Thank you! They’re so soft inside!”

“It was my pleasure!” You smile at her and you two chat for a little before she gets up to leave. There’s a knock at your door before she can and you beckon the person to enter. 

Your assistant shuffles in, apologetically glancing between your mountain of paper and Topaz. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I can come back—”

“Don’t worry, I was just about to leave,” Topaz says and she wiggles her fingers at you as a goodbye, disappearing around the corner. 

“Mail’s come in.” He hands you a small stack of letters, keeping one in his hand. You motion at it in question and he says, “This one’s odd. There’s no return address or any indication where it came from.”

He leans over to give it to you and you slice it open with a dagger-shaped letter opener. Your assistant eyes it and says, “I always forget to tell you how cool that thing is. It’s so well-made!”

Your finger runs over the grooves of the handle. Even though the metal is cool, you swear you can still feel the warmth of the forge and of the hands who crafted it. You turn it over in your hand and finally manage to reply, “Thank you.” 

You know it sounds flat and strained so you instead busy yourself with the letter. There’s no visible ink when you slide it out of the envelope but as you unfold it, the words materialize into a message written in swift, decisive strokes. 

It has been a very long while, hasn’t it? I hear you’re going by Tourmaline now. It suits you, as does your high-ranking position in the Talent Motivation Department of the IPC — you always were a mediator. I know you have run off to the farthest corner of the universe to leave behind what has transpired. But in accordance with our old vow, I invite you once again roam our lands of past, drink in celebration and recount our great adventures.

You think your heart has stopped and your eyes examine the words over and over again. You forgot that your assistant is still in the room. He clears his throat hesitantly and asks, “Are you alright, ma’am?”

You suck in a deep breath and plaster a mask of smile on your face as you answer, “Yes, I am fine. You’re dismissed. And thank you for bringing in the mail.”

He casts you another worried look but says no more, nodding and exiting, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. You don’t realize how much you’re trembling until you pick up the note to read it one last time, the thin sheet shaking too. 

You scoff as your eyes fall on the final sentence and you scoff. As if vows meant anything to them. 

Your stomach churns and there’s a sting behind your eyes that you haven’t felt in years, yet you’re reaching for your phone and reserving a starskiff to the Xianzhou Luofu before you know it. 

“I believe that’s checkmate,” you said, grinning triumphantly as Jing Yuan froze, eyes darting across the board, trying to find a way out. 

“There’s always a way out,” he huffed, hand hovering over one piece, then another, then another.

You replied, “That’s not how chess works.”

He glowered at you and Jingliu sighed, standing behind Jing Yuan to gaze at the board. “You should have moved your knight here,” she said, pointing at a square. “Then you would have beaten her in three more moves and avoided the capture of the queen.”

Jing Yuan didn’t answer, still surveying the board. Dan Feng rolled his eyes at your friend’s fruitless determination. You laid back, delighting in the light mist of water that sprays from the surrounding waterfalls. You loved Scalegorge Waterscape — it was rare to find somewhere with so much nature in the Alliance. “Wait,” Jing Yuan said and you sighed dramatically. He continued, “What if—”

A low gravelly voice sounded behind you. “Give it up, Jing Yuan, she has bested you again.”

You tilted your head to the source of the voice and smiled again, big and wide, heat sparking through your body when he offered you that signature smirk. Baiheng dashed ahead of him, waving the large bag of food they had picked up. He sat down beside you, long lithe fingers reaching over to brush a stray piece of hair from your face.

“Miss?” You jolt awake with a tight feeling in your chest. Your starskiff driver is turned around in his seat and staring at you. “We’ve arrived.”

“Oh!” You scramble to give him his credits and you climb out, stepping onto the Xianzhou Luofu for the first time in seven centuries.

Central Starskiff Haven is as busy as you remember, bustling with passengers embarking and disembarking from various spacecrafts. Merchants hawk their wares loudly, tourists slowing down to peruse as residents quickly rush past. 

You weave in between the crowds, the familiar smells of berrypheasant skewers and songlotus cake making your mouth water. Despite your anxiety, your heart swells as the sights and sounds and smells around you. You begin to make your way towards the next starskiff terminal when you hear footsteps approaching rapidly from behind. You tense, steeling yourself when you feel a hand on your shoulder. A voice breathes out your name in disbelief and your own eyes widen at the familiar sound. You turn around. “Yukong.”

She stares at you, repeating your name once more. A tentative smile appears and she says, “It’s been a while.”

“It has. How have you been?”

“Well, all things considered.” She hesitates and says, “A lot has happened since you left.”

Your stomach churns with guilt and you force out an answer: “You know I had to get away. After everything that happened—”

“Yes, I know.” She cuts you off and you can hear the betrayal leaking into her otherwise stoic tone. She squares her shoulder and asks, “What are you doing back?”

“I…” You debate telling her the whole truth but, perhaps against your better judgment, you don’t. Instead, you say, “I need to meet with Jing Yuan.” It’s not a lie, technically, but Yukong knows you better and from the way her lips purse, you can tell she doesn’t believe you entirely. 

“The general is not at the Seat of Divine Foresight at the moment. He’s dealing with matters concerning a prisoner right now.”

“I see.”

Another silence. When Yukong breaks it, you expect her to inquire further but she says, “You don’t have your bow on you.”

It makes you smile slightly. “I do, just not so conspicuously now.” You gesture to an intricate band around your wrist. 

“I’m surprised. You never would have parted with it before.”

“Things change.” Your eyes flicker over her and you ask, “Do you remember when I gifted you your first bow?”

It makes her smile a little too. “Yes. It was far too big for me. Baiheng laughed and laughed that day. I still have it.”

“Really?”

“It’s at home, hanging on my wall.”

“I figured you would have disposed of it, given everything…”

She sighs, “I thought about it but I couldn’t part with it. No matter what has transpired over these many years we’ve been estranged, you are still my bow master.” You don’t get a chance to reply before Yukong says, “I have to return to the Palace of Astram.”

“I understand.” You tilt your head up and look at the clear blue sky. Perfect flying weather. You look back at her. “Perhaps we can catch up some other time.”

A pause, then she nods. “I would like that.” Turning on her heel, she moves to leave, but over her shoulder, Yukong says, “Until next time, master.” Then, she melts into the bustling crowd and disappears among them. 

With a heavy exhale, you decide to go to Scalegorge Waterscape. You board a starskiff and head for Scalegorge Waterscape. It’s not a long journey at all but it feels interminable. Your heart pounds against your ribcage when you land, the sand soft under your boots as you disembark.

You can see the looming columns in the distance and you push down your nerves as you walk towards them, passing by the statue of your old friend. As you approach, a young boy with a blond ponytail walks past with a group of Cloud Knights flanking a man. The boy eyes you suspiciously and he’s about to question you when the man in custody says, “I presume you’re a part of the reunion.”

You don’t answer, brushing past both swiftly and silently. You see Jing Yuan first, his eyes meeting yours resolutely. He calls your name, voice low. The three others turn to face you and your heart stops. 

Jingliu, wearing the same blindfold covering her eyes that she had when she escaped the Xianzhou. Dan Feng, or rather, his reincarnation, gazing at you with a spark of recognition in his eyes as he reaches into the fog of his mind for memories of you.

And him. Yingxing, though, you don’t think he’s going by that name anymore. No, he’s taken on a different moniker, one befitting of the life he now leads. Blade, a Stellaron Hunter, a weapon for the Slave of Destiny. 

You force your feet to move, dragging you forward until you stand between Dan Feng — or whatever name he goes by now — and Blade. Jingliu starts to move now, her steps precise, and she stops in the center of your circle. “And so,” she begins, “everyone is present. I never thought the High-Cloud Hexad would be able to gather again in the same place after hundreds of years.”

You watch her intently as she continues, recalling the promise you all made so many centuries ago. No matter what happened, you would all gather together and share a drink. You remember that day with too much clarity, how Baiheng grinned when she suggested it, bright and beaming like the sun. You remember clinking your cups together to toast the vow. Those days feel so distant, so unattainable now. 

“How sad that Scalegorge Waterscape remains empty while the world continues to turn. Some of us have been reborn,” — her eyes slide over to Dan Feng’s reincarnation — “while others have been denied death.” Her head pivots towards Blade, addressing him still when she says, “Some have become criminals.” 

Then, she faces you. “And others have never stopped running and lost their souls along the way.”

Your hands clench into fists and you bite your tongue to stop from retorting but you know all too well how the IPC is viewed by much of the galaxy. Maybe you hoped that you would be regarded as one of the good ones. Maybe it’s just been denial on your part. 

Regardless, Jingliu is as she has always been, her words as sharp and accurate as ever. Your fingers brush over the band around your wrist that contains your bow.

“There are also those,” she says, peering upwards, “who can no longer fulfill their promises. And in the end, our friendship is no more. Soon, I will be shackled and tried. This will be the last you see of me. This is why I sent out the invitations before departing, hoping that everyone would be gathered here for my final farewell.”

Then, she utters the words you have heard time and time again in your sleep, in dreams and nightmares that never seem to end. 

“Of six people, three must pay a price.”

She’s still speaking but her voice fades into the back of your mind as the sound of your blood roaring fills your ears. You feel cursed, sometimes, as a long-life species, doomed to live and remember and suffer. 

You almost think Baiheng’s fate was the kindest of them all, unburdened of guilt and heartache and memories. 

And just as soon as you all gather, Jingliu soon begins to dismiss you. She and Jing Yuan discuss where she will be detained and as they turn to leave, Blade interrupts. Coldly, he says, “Before you leave, you still owe me my due.”

It’s all too clear what he wants. Your stomach drops at his request and finally, you really look at the man who used to be the man you loved. One of his hands is gloved, the other wrapped in bandages. There’s a bandage around his thigh. Another twined at his bicep. 

Your heart cracks. How much pain and suffering has he endured? How long has he begged for death and an end, felt the slide of a sword or the bullet of a gun, just to regrow again and return to the same agonizing cycle?

When Jingliu refuses to draw her sword against him without provocation, Blade draws his, an ancient, broken sword you’ve seen countless times when it was brand-new. One that has been shattered and pieced back together over and over again, just as its wielder has been as well. 

You hear Jingliu’s dreamy voice float above the clanging of metal. “Their faces still linger before my eyes, like a bygone dream.” As they begin to duel, your head spins and memories you’ve buried deep down in the recesses of your heart and mind break through their confines and seep into your bones. 

Baiheng’s loud laugh, ringing up to the stars as you walked the streets of Aurum Alley. Jingliu poured you a cup of tea as you caught up at her home. Jing Yuan fell asleep against your shoulder as you all sat together on a sunny day. Dan Feng’s exasperated voice called for you to slow down. 

Jingliu continues: “I thought those joyful days would flow indefinitely before us — like a Xianzhou lifetime.” Blade lunges for her, the tip of his sword skimming close to her face, intentional in its avoidance. Instead, it slices her blindfold and it flutters into the wind. 

You entered Yingxing’s workshop in the Artisanship Commission. Swords, daggers, and other weaponry lay around the shop, some cooling in water, fresh from the forge; others hanging on the wall. You found him hunched over his workbench, scowling and grumbling. 

You crept with quiet steps to him, tapping his shoulder. Yingxing whirled around furiously, expression softening slightly when he saw you. “What are you doing here?” he asked. 

“You promised you’d meet up with me an hour ago and when you didn’t show, I figured you’d be here.” You tried to peer at his workbench, but he moved in front of you, broad shoulders blocking your view.

“What’re you working on?”

“Nothing.”

“You were just huffing and puffing, Yingxing. That doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“It’s nothing worth your time,” he replied, standing up to usher you to the door, but he didn’t anticipate your quick reflexes, and you skirted around him. 

On the workbench sat a small ring. It was gold, dented and misshapen, so different from Yingxing’s regular work. “Don’t—” he started as you reached for it, turning it over in your fingers. 

“Who’s this for?” you asked, stomach turning at the thought of it being for another. 

“Nobody.”

You plastered a smirk on your face to hide your simmering jealousy. “Is it for that pretty shopgirl who always gives you an extra berrypheasant skewer for free?”

“No,” he grumbled.

“What about the girl—”

“It’s for you,” he said. “For your birthday next week.” 

“Oh!” Your heart swelled and you bit back the grin that threatened to break out. “I’m sorry I ruined the surprise. It’s beautiful, Yingxing.”

“No, it’s not. Discard it. I will make you something better.”

You reeled back from him, cupping the (jewelry) protectively in your hands. “I love it! It’s already perfect!”

“It’s sloppy.”

You frown at him defiantly and slide it on your finger with ease. “It’s perfect.”

“In what way?”

“Because it came from you,” you said. “Because it’s thoughtful and kind and I love it, and I love you.” The minute the words left your mouth, your stomach dropped. It was out in the open now — the feelings you had been dancing around for months. Your unspoken pining finally made tangible with words.

He went still. “You love me?”

You laughed weakly, desperately fighting the anxiety clawing up your throat. “Isn’t it obvious?” When he didn’t reply, you began to say, “Forget I said anything”

“No,” he said. and then with one stride, he closed the gap between the two of you, lips crashing against yours.

Jingliu leaps into the air, sword aimed precisely and lethally. “Yet, dreams…” she says, “...will eventually fade — like clouds from the sky.”

You remembered when you had found out what Dan Feng and Yingxing had done, tampering with the Ambrosial Arbor and committing one of the most grievous of sins. You remembered how it felt like your heart had been ripped out when you heard of their fates, of Dan Feng’s forced reincarnation, Yingxing’s wicked immortality wrought by mara and his banishment. How you had sobbed and screamed and tore apart your shared home with Yingxing before your legs had given out and you sunk to the floor in despair and betrayal and hopelessness. 

You left the Xianzhou Alliance soon after, packed up in the middle of a cold, gray night and disappeared. You couldn’t stay, not in the home that reminded you of him or on the fleet that reminded you of them, of everything. You were adrift for a long time before Diamond found you. 

You watch as Jingliu drives her sword into Blade’s chest, the force sending him sprawling. She yanked it out of him, no blood spurting from the wound or flecking her blade. He lay there for minutes before jerking, eyes flying open and gasping for air. He sits up then stands quickly, and he says nothing further to her. 

As Dan Feng’s reincarnation goes to speak with Jingliu, then Blade, and Jing Yuan (Dan Heng, you hear Jing Yuan call him), you cautiously approach Blade. He’s looking out into the distance of Scalegorge Waterscape but he turns when you stand beside him. 

There’s no greeting, not that you expect one. He asks, “What do you go by now?”

“Tourmaline,” you answer. 

He just continues to stare at you. Then, Blade’s eyes flick down, settling on your neck. He points at the ring that you wear on a chain around your neck. “This,” he says. “What’s this?”

Your heart aches. He doesn’t remember. Of course, he doesn’t; the mara fragments his mind. You’re sure it’s familiar to him, which is why he’s asking, but like Dan Heng, he does not have all his memories from your former life. “You— Yingxing made it for me.”

“It’s ugly.”

You can’t help but scowl at him and there’s a sense of deja vu as you snap, “No, it’s not.” It’s perfect because it came from you. Because you crafted weapons and armor and things that were meant to be sharp and lethal; you were unused to making something meant for softness and love and you did so anyway for me. 

Blade doesn’t react. The breeze passing through rustles his long, dark hair. He’s as handsome as ever and you hate it. You hate this. You hate Jingliu for orchestrating this. You hate yourself for coming. And you hate him, this stranger who wears your beloved Yingxing’s face but will never be the man he once was. 

You don’t even realize that there are tears rolling down your cheeks until you feel hands, strong and calloused from years of work the owner of the appendage can only remember in fragments, cup your cheek. His thumbs wipe at your tears but when your eyes meet him, he freezes, eyes widening ever so slightly as if he can’t believe he’s doing it himself, a subconscious instinct driving him. A memory of what was. 

You expect him to withdraw swiftly but his hands are slow, fingers skimming your skin gently as if trying to savor the feeling and engrave it on their tips. They reach your chin, falling away. Blade’s arms hang at his sides and he’s still. 

Then, he turns away and begins his journey out of Scalegorge Waterscape. He casts one last long look at you over his shoulder, expression unreadable. Something swims in his crimson eyes that you can’t discern. You want to say it’s longing, maybe even something affectionate, but the man you loved is long gone. You can’t read this stranger. 

You blink and he’s vanished before your very eyes. It leaves you, Jing Yuan, and Dan Heng alone. Dan Heng says quietly to you, “You were the bow master of the Luofu.”

You offer him a sad smile. “I was.”

“Where are you going from here?” Jing Yuan asks.

“Back to Pier Point,” you respond softly. “I have matters to attend to for the IPC.”

“I see,” Jing Yuan says. “I would invite you to stay but I know it’s a selfish request.”

“Another time, General,” you say. “When I return again, we’ll meet up once more.” You address Dan Heng: “And you?”

“I’ll return to the Astral Express.”

“Ah,” you say wistfully, “a Trailblazer. It suits you.”

He gives you a nod and a small smile, and you say, “Goodbye, Jing Yuan. Goodbye, Dan Heng.”

You make your way back to the starskiff, still dutifully parked where you left it. As you climb inside, one last lingering memory drifts into your mind. 

“When I die,” Yingxing said as he held you close, curled around you protectively, “promise you won’t forget me?”

“Why are you talking about this, my love? Planning on dying anytime soon?”

“It is something to consider. I am not a long-life species. So promise me when I am gone, you won’t forget me.”

You gaze up at him, “As if I could ever forget about you.”

You massage your temples. This Quantum Collider nonsense is more of a headache than you anticipated. “Mail’s in!” Your assistant waves a stack of envelopes at you, placing them on your desk before taking his leave. 

You sift through the pile — bills, forms you had to sign, scam letters about an overdue warranty… 

You pick out one envelope in particular. It’s red among a sea of white and you slice it open with your letter opener. The note you pull out only has a few words on it: a time and a place. There is no sign-off or official signature. All that is at the bottom was the Xianzhou character for the word ‘blade.’ 

[hotties4gojo]

I might as well just wait until I finish the fic before posting since this snippet is fairly long but I feel like sharing a sneak pic of a fic that I’m working on 🙂‍↕️ posting this might give me more motivation to actually complete it faster anyways. this snippet is a rough draft and I mean Rough

content: yakuza au, oyabun!gojo x secretary!reader, they’re married, fem!reader, whipped gojo cos he’s a wife guy, pet names (sweets, wifey, princess), hint of possessive gojo, beginning of 18+ content towards the end of the snippet, MDNI

word count: 1.3k

The door clicks shut behind Nanami and he puffs out a breath of relief at his wakagashira’s departure, sitting back in his chair with a gentle creak of the leather beneath him. Satoru kicks his leg up over the other, the side of his calf resting on his knee, and looks you up and down. “And then there were two. Fancy seeing you here, wifey,” he drawls.

“You say that as if we don’t work in the same building,” you snort. Thwacking the folder against the wooden surface before scattering it among the pile, you then round Satoru’s desk and plant yourself in front of him. He inhales unsubtly, catching a whiff of your perfume that makes him go a little cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, and your lips twitch as you take your throne on the lip of his desk. “Normally I’d only be here to scold you and make you do your work, hubby.”

Everyone here at headquarters is required to follow a certain dress code. Satoru outshines them all, of course, fitted in finely tailored slacks and dress shirts with either a crisp light blue waistcoat thrown atop it or an ironed suit jacket. And as one of the many secretaries flitting around the building keeping the well-oiled Gojo-gumi machine chugging, it’s important for you to look just as professional.

Especially since you’re his wife.

Which is why you look like an infuriatingly sexy librarian, decked out in a tight black pencil skirt that hugs your hips, a blouse with the top two buttons undone and the collar pressed open to flaunt the designer necklace he bought you that swings from your neck, sheer black nylon thigh-highs that he’d kill to feel around his head, and stilettos, cute little charms on the buckles giving your outfit a little bit of cheer.

(The thought of you making yourself look extra pretty today just for him has Satoru internally busting on the spot, his blood simmering beneath the fine layer of his skin.)

‘The oyabun’s wife’, his men always dreamily sigh when you walk past them— only to whip around and stare at the wall when he slinks by not even a step behind you, his blue eyes cold and caustic like sapphire when he glares at them in warning. Gorgeous, breath-taking, a prized jewel— and you’re all his.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ in my near future,” Satoru muses aloud, raising his eyebrows at you in question.

“No. Just a ‘however’.” Instead of being two dumb bitches telling each other ‘exactlyyy’, they’re two smartasses fashioned in the same factory, complete with warning labels.

“Yeesh. Can I ever be right with you, sweets?” He plasters his hand over his heart and gives you a simpering moue.

You roll your eyes, a wordless ‘duh’. Satoru's lips slant upwards into a Cheshire cat smile as you reach forward and slowly loop his tie around your fingers before giving it a tug, coaxing his chair to roll forward on the sleek hardwood floor. He uncrosses his legs and allows himself to be pulled up and out of it, heeled like a dog, stepping forward to stand between your legs after lightly kicking his chair away with a soft clatter.

Looking down at you through long white lashes that flutter like the first snowfall of winter, his gaze is a mix of playfulness and appreciation in its rawest form. Satoru has to admit, this view is far more pleasant than any spreadsheet that he was pretending to give his attention to before you strode in.

Your perch on his desk gives you an air of sophisticated dominance that makes his cock give a very interested twitch in his trousers that he can’t help. Sue him for being horrendously attracted to his wife. Though he towers over you by a mere head due to the slight height advantage that his desk gives you, there’s no doubt that he yields completely and utterly to you. His brain conjures up an image of Nike, the Greek goddess of victory. Glorious and championing above the rest of them; victorious.

Woof, he thinks unintelligently.

“However,” you finally continue, finally fully smiling. You keep a hold on his tie and tap his nose with the pointer of your free hand, which he wrinkles at you. “I’ve decided that I’ll spare you the lecture for today.”

Satoru's hands come up to rest on your knees, thumbs rubbing slow circles on the sleek nylon covering them. Your inviting warmth bleeds through the thin fabric. He so badly wants to sink down onto his knees, brush them down and sink his teeth into your plush skin until your skin pinkens. He settles for giving you a gentle squeeze.

“I thank you, oh great and benevolent goddess of the yakuza underworld,” he proclaims, delighting in the fondly exasperated groan that rumbles low in your throat. “Well, I gotta say, I'm grateful for the reprieve, sweets. Though I suspect your mercy is short-lived," he adds with a chuckle. “So give it up already. Spill.”

Fucking hell. There goes a tiny fraction of the element of surprise that you thought you were holding over him like an anvil in a cartoon.

You silently curse his eerie perceptiveness. And his newfound x-ray vision, apparently, since he leans back a fraction to take you in again, his focus lingering on your skirt. But hey, the ball’s still very much in your court, and you’re playing to win.

Not letting it faze you, you heft your legs up, his hands shifting with you, and drape them around Satoru’s waist. His desk creaks beneath the distribution of weight. “Yeah, yeah. What I mean to say is that your husbandly duties are calling to you, not your obligations as oyabun.”

Satoru’s blue eyes search yours and he tilts his head, adorably puppy-like in a manner that suggests he’s more innocent than his ruthless reputation paints him to be. Though he’s the epitome of laxness, there’s a questioning sharpness to his expectancy that’d make lesser men quiver and confess to their every sin.

You stare right back at him. “I don’t have any panties on,” you explain simply.

If Satoru was aroused before, he’s now hornier than a pent-up nun. He hardens so fast that it makes him dizzy. “So you’re on that type of timing, got it,” he notes through his suddenly dry mouth, playing it cool as if his brain chemistry isn’t actively warping with this new information.

Suddenly curious to see if you’re hiding another surprise elsewhere, one hand leaves your knee and drifts up to the undone buttons of your blouse, popping another one open to expose more of your soft skin. Satoru bites his lip as his eyes snag on the lace of your bra. A shame that you’re not bra-less, but he’s fine with seeing you wear half of the set he commissioned for you from a designer in France that you like. He’s more than okay with this, actually.

You make no move to scold him or cover yourself up— you just amusedly stay fixed on him, your eyes gaining that telltale gleam when you’ve got him all tied up in knots. He’s walked into a honeytrap, hasn’t he?

Despite the clear desire emanating from him, there's a tenderness to his touch, a reverence for your body as the hand on your knee skirts up. He slides it higher up your thigh until the hem of your thigh-high gives way to skin and disappears beneath your tight skirt to ascertain your bold claim. When Satoru’s knuckles graze your bare folds, which are slowly slickening, he whines as if he’s the one being touched. “Fuck, princess... you're actually not wearing anything at all, huh?” He groans softly, half surprised and half not that you were telling the truth.

(+++ more here)

Breathing starting to pick up, he drops his face into the crook of your neck and drowns himself in the cocktail of the spritz of that floral perfume you favor and your natural scent. “++++,” he murmurs, blindly tracing your slit all the while.

You cup your husband’s nape as Satoru nuzzles into your neck more urgently, feeling him shiver against you as your palm rasps over the short prickly hairs of his undercut, petting him. Your legs part a bit, skirt inching up as you rut your cunt against Satoru’s exploratory fingers and smear your wetness on him.

[snowthedemonfox]

Time to go through the entire episode 4 trailer!

I've been busy most of today, so I've only now gotten the chance to sit down and go through everything frame by frame. Like last time, I'm going to have to split this post up into parts. I'll leave everything under a read more to prevent spamming people's dashes though lol. Just know that everything will be in the reblogs!

I’ve resorted the screenshots to be in order that I think they’ll happen in the episode btw, or at least my best guesses.

Gangle and Ragatha hanging out in the tent, would not surprise me if Jax shows up and throws that baseball right in Gangle’s face to break the mask (hard to tell if she’s wearing comedy or tragedy). Maybe instead of Jax breaking her mask, Ragatha accidentally breaks it? That would explain why Gangle seems to get into an argument with her later in the trailer.

Also, baseball. Ragatha. Ragatha with a baseball. Wasn’t one of the teased adventures a baseball one? And it’s probably going to be episode 5? The Ragatha episode? Nice foreshadowing, Glitch.

Okay so very obviously her mask is broken now, thanks Jax (or Ragatha, you never know). You can see Zooble’s hand on the left, they’re probably about to offer some help. Is Zooble the one who gave Gangle her new mask? I guess they do get along pretty well.

I do wonder where Zooble got the mask from. Did they make it? How? The star and swirl do look like random parts they’d have in their Zooble box. Two other details I’d like to point out is how Zooble’s door icon is flipped. Gangle’s looking into a mirror, the icon shouldn’t be facing the right way. Cute duck toy though, Zooble. I like it.

Also is that an abstraction figure on the desk in the background? Is this related to the figurine thing from Episode 2?

Oh and I guess everyone gets those stacking ring and building block toys, since Pomni has the exact same toys in her room.

Okay first of all why are Pomni and Ragatha walking in from the right? Their rooms are on the left, along with Jax’s. Were they looking for Gangle to start the adventure, and checked her room first? That IS on the right side, so it makes sense if they were walking back from there. They look confused, maybe they’re wondering why Gangle is looking in the mirror. Maybe they’re wondering what she’s doing in Zooble’s room.

Regular Caine and Bubble activities! Maybe today Caine gets interrupted by someone while explaining the adventure? Because that would explain a few things.

Like, actually checking the suggestions box. Is it attached to the pole? How the hell are the others supposed to reach it if it’s all the way up there? I guess they’ve managed a way to do so because the box is overflowing with suggestions. I guess Caine almost never checks it, which…. oof. Maybe Pomni asked if they get any input on the adventures, reminded Caine the box exists, and now he’s going “Oh shit I can’t let them know I haven’t been reading these!”

Yayyyy Kinger <3 Probably watching Caine go over to the suggestions box lmao. I wonder what he’s going to be doing while everyone else is on the adventure?

Okay yeah it must’ve been attached to that pole, it’s now broken. Weird that we’ve never seen it in previous episodes, that would’ve been a nice reference. Caine’s probably going to grab the first suggestion he sees (That being a fast food adventure? Who would’ve suggested that? Gangle? Would explain why she’s the manager, she’s the one who suggested the idea) and go with that for the day’s new adventure. Bubble I don’t think you should lick that by the way.

Maybe the manager’s office? Or maybe this is one of Caine’s secret rooms where he brainstorms adventure ideas? Idk. I do like the motivational posters in the background though.

You can kinda see Gangle in the reflection of his eyes, so he’s maybe talking to her. Thanking her for the idea? Telling her how to be the manager?

Probably some fake ad sequence to put between them moving from the Tent to Spudsy’s? Gangle girl calm down pls you’re scaring me-

Yayyyy it’s the scene from the Feb trailer!!! But now it looks even better!! It looks like it’s still early in the day based on the outside weather. Jax has to work the drive thru it seems, that doesn’t seem too difficult. I guess. I’ve never worked at a place like this. I wonder what that room on the right is. Maybe they all spawn in with their usual outfits, but that room acts as a changing room? Is that Caine’s hand? Maybe Jax refused to be a part of this but Caine dragged him in there anyway to get into uniform lol. Does not look like he’s having a good time.

Orbsman!! First thing I noticed is that he seems a bit… lower quality than all the other character models we’ve seen. Caine must’ve really rushed this adventure, and that’s going to become a bit more obvious really quickly. But for real dude why are you so tall wtf.

Oh and Ragatha is at the cash register with Pomni! Maybe they both start out there, but Gangle makes Ragatha work with Zooble on the cooking because of all the orders? Sorry Pomni, you’re on your own.

What do you do when you need NPCs, but don’t have the time to make new ones? You reuse old ones! Why else would the Gloink Queen be ordering burgers?? I was just as surprised as Jax when I watched the trailer.

Is this the Karen NPC I’ve been theorizing exists? If so, Pomni is not going to have a good time. Maybe this is just after Ragatha left to help Zooble?

This has to be a timeskip cut somewhere, right? It’s probably boring to show the whole day of nothing but customers ordering food and then leaving. But I can’t tell if this is early morning, or late afternoon. How long are these guys even supposed to be working for?

This has to be at least after Ragatha leaves, cause you can only see Pomni at the register. I can’t see any NPCs though, did most people leave?

Look at her, she looks so damn tired. Pomni I’m so sorry you didn’t deserve this.

If you’ve seen my other post on this topic, you’ll know that I 100% believe Gummigoo is ordering something in this moment. The trailer put this scene immediately after showing us the Gloink Queen. If Caine reused one NPC, he’s going to reuse another. I wonder if we’ll see Max or Chad? Or one of the ghosts from Episode 3? 

Either way Pomni is not going to have a good time. I doubt Gummigoo even remembers who she is.

Yeahhhh she doesn’t look like she’s handling this well. Gummi probably just walked off to go sit down somewhere? Or maybe he just got his food (which, damn, that must’ve been quick) and is walking to one of the tables. Pomni’s trying her best to act normal and okay but you can clearly tell she isn't.

This scene is odd because it’s the only one that looks like Glitch intentionally cropped something out. Is that something perhaps a gummy crocodile? Pomni please get off the floor who knows what’s been there. That’s not healthy. Also?? Don’t you have a job to do??

[bring-forth-his-sac]

Hiiii I’m the anon who sent the ask about whether I could send a request even tho it might take a while so I don’t forget!

I always have ideas for fanfics but I cannot write for the life of me 😭 so if you don’t wanna write this it’s all good :)

so I had an idea where it’s a non-apocalyptic world & the reader/character is famous? like they’re a singer & they just started dating negan & he hears the songs they wrote about him & it’s just fluffy? again you don’t have to write this it’s just an idea I had 🥺🫶🏻

sorry this took so long!! thank you sm for your patience <333 also my friend helped me with the actual lyrics in this which I am so grateful for because I don't have a musical bone in my body

pairing: Negan x singer!Reader

tags: alternate universe, established relationship, fluff, modern AU, famous AU, love songs, Negan needing to mention his dick in every convo lol

word count: 1.7k

It’s still early in the evening and yet there’s snores coming from the other room.

Negan sits on the sofa, legs stretched out. He was waiting for the melodic sounds of your piano to waft out of the room but after a few minutes, all that has emerged from your study are soft snores.

He debates going in and disturbing your solitude. While Negan knows you wouldn’t mind his company, he likes to give you your own time to indulge in music. 

Music has always been a big part of who you are and it’s something Negan has supported from the beginning.

He understands that for you, music is like your personal diary, a sanctuary where you pour out all of your emotions and transform them into a heart-wrenching ballad or the catchiest pop song he’s ever heard. 

With another snore drifting out from your study, Negan sighs and gets up. 

As of recent, you’ve been consumed by a wave of newfound inspiration, tirelessly working on numerous songs. It’s as if lightning has struck, igniting a sudden surge of motivation and encouraging you to put your heart and soul into your work.

Piano keys, the strumming of guitars and your voice has filled Negan’s ears as you put finishing touches on song after song. 

Even though he's been eager to hear a sneak peek, you've chosen to keep the new songs private until they're complete. Nevertheless, Negan has already tried to convince you otherwise. He can’t help it, as soon as he knows you’re crafting some new song, he wants to know everything about it.

But you’ve always remained steadfast and not let him have a sneak peek, even when he gives you those puppy dog eyes.

Creeping into your study, Negan��s eyes immediately go to your figure. Slumped over your desk with loose papers everywhere, you greet him with another snore. Negan smiles at the sight, immediately deciding that you need 100% relaxation for the rest of the night.

He weaves his way through the room, making sure not to step on the fallen guitar picks that have found a home on the fuzzy carpet. The walls of the room are lined with empty cases of instruments, music stands that have been pushed aside and Negan’s favourite armchair.

It’s what he always sits on whenever you invite him in to listen to what you’ve been working on. Although there are some more steamy memories too that truly cement it as being his favourite leather armchair.

Negan approaches your desk silently, careful not to disturb your peaceful sleep. Your laptop hums with life, displaying what he assumes must be a compilation of beats that are on the verge of being made into a cohesive rhythm. Making sure everything is saved, he shuts down the laptop for the night.

“Baby,” he nudges you carefully “you keep sleeping like that and you’ll be complaining ‘bout a bad back in no time”.

You respond with a soft grunt, your fatigue winning as you stay asleep.

Negan chuckles, finding your determination to nap utterly adorable. He takes a casual look around your desk, skimming over the various musical notes jotted down that he can't make heads or tails of, until he spots something else.

Lyrics.

Small fragments of verses, written out on scrap pieces of paper and sticky notes. His eyes impulsively scan what he can see, yearning for that sneak peek you’ve denied him.  

Moving carefully, he picks up one of the sticky notes and reads it.

“In every moment, I feel the spark. You’re the love that lights the dark”.

Negan has seen you weave song about your past experiences and the people in your life, but never has he thought that he might become the subject of your next ballad.

He glances down at your sleeping form as if you’ll pick up on his questioning look. Not fully believing it, Negan grabs another sticky note.

“A leather jacket, stories untold… with that smirk, you take control”.

As it is written, so it shall be. A smirk graces Negan's face as he looks down at the paper, slowly nodding to himself. Jackpot. 

You’re finally writing a goddamn song about him!

Negan doesn’t want to say it’s about time but he’s definitely been thinking about you serenading him with his own song for a while now. He blames his ego for that fantasy.

“Oh darlin’, you writing this for me?” He asks with a grin. Negan lets the sticky notes fall back to the desk and he wraps his arms around you, his chest against your hunched back and embracing you in a hug you don’t even know you’re in.

Feeling his arms around you, you slowly begin to come to. Your eyes flutter open, instantly feeling comfortable. 

“Negan?” You mumble groggily, your brain still waking up.

He hums, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek “Your world just light up?”.

“Wh-what?” a confused pout forms on your face as you move your head to look at him.

Nuzzling in by you, he reluctantly pulls back just enough so he can gesture to the first set of lyrics. “I mean, I am the love that lights up the dark, right?” he grins.

Your tired confusion suddenly shifts to panicked realisation, instantly straightening up. “Negan! Did you— No!“ you babble on hurriedly, your eyes darting to the notes on your desk “You can’t read those!”.

“Oh sweetheart, I think it’s too late for that,” he kisses your head before standing upright “and for the record, I am honoured to be your muse”.

You roll your eyes, knowing that you can’t be annoyed when you’re the one leaving bits of your next song scattered across your messy desk.

“I never said you were my muse” you point out.

Negan thinks for a moment, slyly looking for another scribble of lyrics. “Every word is his weapon, every laugh’s a tease, but in his dangerous charm is where I find my release” he reads out another excerpt, spotting it marked with musical notations.

“Hey!” You quickly try to cover the entirety of the desk, your arms spreading out over as many sheets as possible. You pout up at him, your bottom lip jutting out.

“What? I like it, it’s a good thing” he assures you, kissing your pout away “about time you let them damn fanboys know I’m your one and only. Maybe now they’ll fuck off and stop bombarding your DM’s”.

With a scoff, you warily stand and try to clear your desk. Gathering all the papers into a somewhat neat pile, you defend “Those are my fans you’re talking about!”

With a smug smirk, Negan lays a single finger on top of the stack of notes “And it’s me you’re singing about, so they can kick rocks”. 

You feign annoyance but it’s clear just how much this means to him. If you’re being honest, you weren’t sure how he’d react to a song about him. 

Despite Negan always being supportive, you weren’t sure if that extended to a pure love song all about him. A part of you was scared he would think it’s cringe or too much, but the look on his face says the opposite of that.

Maybe it’s your exhaustion but it’s as if Negan radiates a soft glow, reflecting the pride he feels. Those damned eyes, a perfect swirl of hazel hues makes you melt.

“Hmph… suppose you have a point” you let him take the win, giving him another kiss. 

“I always do,” he replies, leaning into your kiss “now, how’s about we have a nice relaxing night of being couch potatoes. Sound good to you or do you want to go back to snoring on your desk?”.

You can’t help but huff, denying his claim as you stretch your tired limbs. "I do not snore!" you protest, defensive humour lacing your tone. 

Negan wraps an arm around your waist, in case you’re unsteady on your feet considering you just woke up .

“How would you know? You’re asleep when you do it” he replies, helping you step over things within the messy study.

“But I don't…” you trail off, yawning.

He lets out a light laugh at the timing of your yawn. “What? Don’t sleep or snore?” Negan teases “it’s alright, darlin’… snoring is like singing in your sleep, it’s your musicality! Damn, I guess that’s means you’ve been giving me a private concert for the past twenty minutes”. 

It’s tempting to resist his claims but you give in to the small smile that tugs at your lips. No matter what, Negan has a way of turning every aspect of you into an endearing quality, constantly finding ways to appreciate even your most mundane traits. It’s a talent, truly.

Relenting, you lean against Negan, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace as you both move towards the door.

“Y’know, I could always help with the song too” he offers, making you laugh in an instant. 

“You? Co-write a song?” You question, turning off the light and wandering back through your home, Negan still side by side with you. 

“Yeah, I was thinking something like…” he thinks for a moment, mentally arranging the words in his head before saying “when my guy sees me, he gets hard as a brick, but how can I be mad, when he’s got that big dick”.

He gives you a grin, utterly proud of his lyrics.

You giggle, expecting no less from him as you drag Negan on to the couch with you. “Oh wow, I didn’t realise I was dating a poet” you praise.

“What can I say, doll,” Negan nuzzles in beside you “you’re not the only one full of surprises”.

With a wink, Negan gives you one last kiss before you both get comfy on the couch together, ready for a night of relaxation.

[effloradox]

A Well Meaning Idiot

pairing: tamaki suoh x reader, host club x tamaki

summary: when ouran's newspaper club take a new interest in the host club's king, it leaves all of you feeling wary. tamaki might trust them blindly, but the rest of you don't. it's not hard to guess there's an ulterior motive in their mind that means you'll have to jump to tamaki's defense.

notes: takes place during 1.14 (covering the famous host club!), it's basically just all the hosts and reader working together to protect their favourite idiot.

word count: 1.1k

The Newspaper Club of Ouran Academy were trouble. It didn’t take an idiot to work that out but, unfortunately for all of you, Tamaki Suoh is an idiot. A well meaning idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. Lucky for Tamaki, the rest of the host club have a bit more sense. The new interest in writing an article about the host club seemed incredibly outlandish to begin with. You’ve heard their justifications but the whole thing seemed suspicious, especially since you know what a gossip rag Ouran’s newspaper is. Their interest in the host club definitely wasn’t born out of good intentions, that much you can gather. Proving that though, that’s going to be difficult.

You decide very early on that you’re not going to question why Kyoya’s family have made first aid kits that have listening devices installed in their base but right now it serves a purpose. Given the state of their club room, you don’t get the impression that they’re big on getting rid of things and hopefully it will get you the proof you need so that the newspaper club stays far away from your friends.

It’s easy enough to distract Tamaki. The moment Haruhi had mentioned some of the commoner games she played as a child, he’d been entranced and desperate to play. It wasn’t hard to notice that Akira was starting to get frustrated and once Tamaki ran into the school’s maze, the plan was set in motion.

It also wasn’t hard to slip away from the group bonding activity, mainly because you know who Akira’s focus is trained on. So much so that, aside from talking to Haruhi, none of the members of the Newspaper Club looked twice at the rest of you. They’re so distracted, in fact, that it’s incredibly easy to sneak into their club room.

“I’m writing the article.” Akira Komatsuzuwa is a man on a mission. His frustration is palpable as he heads towards his club room. Chikage and Tomochika are behind him, trying to keep up, but the pace he’s set is ruthless and both of the younger men are trailing behind him.

“Wait, Mr. President!”

“It’s too dangerous to write gossip about Suoh. You don’t have any evidence, sir.”

“Who needs evidence? All I have to do is expose him and everyone will see it! If I set my mind to it, I can imagine any number of articles that would cause a commotion among the idiots at this academy. I’m going to expose Tamaki for the twit he is.” Akira slams the club doors open, blinded by his frustration. Their club room is perpetually dark, so it takes his eyes a moment to adjust to the lighting difference. It surprises him when he sees three figures perched on his desk. “Huh?”

“Hmm. So, we were right all along.”

“You three.” Akira looks unhappy at your intrusion but not entirely surprised. It’s probably a good thing he hasn’t noticed that Kyoya is sitting in the back corner of the room. Next to you, Hikaru shrugs lightly.

“Well, I guess it was pretty obvious.” On your other side, Kaoru nods slightly.

“The boss is the only one who hasn’t caught on yet.”

“Well, we all know Tamaki can be really dense when it pertains to anything about himself.” The twins nod at your comment but all of you are monitoring Akira’s expression. You know you’re not in any real danger, all of this is still being recorded and Mori is right outside the door, but Akira has shown himself to act erratically and you’re not entirely sure how this confrontation will go.

“I should warn you: if you threaten him, there will be consequences.”

“Are you ready to have the Hitachiins and every other club members’ family as your enemy?” Kaoru’s words seem to reignite a spark in Akira’s eyes and rage seems to take hold of him.

“I knew it! You’re nothing but his lackeys! Tamaki’s holding his parents’ power over all of you!” The voice that speaks next comes from outside the club room, and Akira flinches as Honey speaks up, with Mori close behind him.

“That’s not true. We don’t hang out with Tama-chan because of his parents. We love him. We all like being around him, and that’s why we choose to be here.”

“He may be a hopeless idiot, but even so.” It’s easy to spot the fond looks that grow on the host club's faces when they’re reminded of Tamaki. You don’t doubt that there's a similar expression on your own face. Tamaki lived a lonely life before his father moved him to Japan, whilst he can be annoying it’s clear you all think the world of him. In all the time you’ve known him, he’s barely ever mentioned his family around you, let alone used their influence to do anything. You don’t think it’s even occurred to him that he could wilfully do that. Regardless of how Akira Komatsuzawa thinks Tamaki is; you all know the truth.

You watch Akira with a measured expression, waiting to see how he’s reacting. “Well?” The twins are quick to follow up with the question you all want to ask.

“What will you do?”

“Please leave Tama-chan alone, okay?” Honey’s comment seems to break something in Akira as he lets out an infuriated cry.

“I’ll get you all! It’s not just about him anymore! I’ll write an article that’ll ruin all of you!” At Akira’s proclamation, Kyoya smirks and rises to his feet.

“Go ahead, be my guest. Although…” The megane makes his way over the desk you and the twins are sitting on. He retrieves the first aid box, flipping it over and retrieving the memory disk from its base. He lifts it into view and the small fraction of light coming through the half-drawn curtains seems to glint off of it. “What do you think we should do about this little disk? You see, it’s been here since yesterday. And it recorded everything.” At the sight of the disk, the newspaper club members all seemed to blanche, and it’s clear that this conversation will soon be over.

“President!”

“Just give up already!”

It’s Kyoya that makes a closing remark to the newspaper club, saying what most of you are thinking. “Let me explain it to you in terms you can understand. You would do well to remember that the Ootori group and the Hitachiin family alone own enough stock to remove your father from his position as president of the Komatsuzawa Publishing Firm. However, we would never do something like that. We are not like you. What we strive for is fundamentally different.”

With that, all of you make your way back down to the school gardens. You’re quick to find Tamaki and Haruhi in the maze, both of them none the wiser as to what’s just occurred. Probably for the best. You wouldn’t want it to go to Tamaki’s head.

series masterlist

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman- Part 41

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Wednesday, January 27; 4:30 PM - Ona and Alexia's Room.

If someone had told me that one day my room would become a place where we gather to study, I wouldn't have believed it. Just a few days after starting in my new class, and I already feel completely lost. How did I choose this option? I never thought I'd say this, but... My mom was right about one thing: I’m not cut out for math at all.

"Hey, are you paying attention?" someone reminds me.

I sigh, rubbing my arm where Alessia just hit me. How can I concentrate with these subjects? There are way too many numbers!

"Can we take a break?"

"We just took one, you’re exaggerating."

I turn to smile at Alba, who chuckles behind me. She’s sitting on the floor against her sister’s bed since the two beds are taken by Alexia herself and Leah. As for Alessia and me, she insisted we sit in front of my desk to work under the best conditions. I sigh to show my discontent.

"Can we stop then? I’m starting to get fed up."

She studies me for a moment, probably wondering if I’m joking. No, I’m not. I really can’t take it anymore. My head is about to explode with the migraine that's starting to hit.

"Well... I can’t force you after all."

Her decision makes me smile, just like the other relieved groans. It was as if that was the only thing they had been waiting for since we got here. I’m just as happy as they are that Alessia is letting me off the hook. Lucy would never have let me off so easily, but I really can't continue like this. I don’t have the focus to study. My mind has been way too disturbed these past few days. The silence that had settled in the room is broken by Leah’s grunts as he stretches.

"It was about time, damn it!" Leah swears. "Anyway, I'm sick of working my ass off only to get crappy grades. I’m going to clear my head in the common room. Who's coming with me?"

"Great idea," Alba quickly replies. "I thought no one would ever suggest it."

I smile as I watch them pack up their things as quickly as lightning. Unlike them, I take my time. I’m not in as much of a rush to get out of here. The girls seem to agree. Well, Alessia is taking her time too, and Alexia doesn’t even seem to notice what’s happening with her phone in front of her and her headphones in her ears. The girls seem to understand our lack of motivation because they leave, saying we’ll meet up later. Now, it’s just Alessia and me. I turn towards Ale, who hasn’t changed her position, before turning back to Alessia again. She looks at me curiously before giving me a timid smile.

"Is everything okay?"

"If you say so..."

"You’ve been less cheerful these past few days. Is it because of classes? Or maybe it’s because of Korbin?"

I sigh and shrug. So many things have gone wrong in just one week that I don’t even know why I’m not okay anymore. The upside of all this is that I’m discovering, albeit late, the amazing people around me. I’ve always had Alexia and Leah, who continue to be sweet to me, but now they’re not the only ones. There’s Alessia, Alba, and all the others. I’m not doing well, that’s no secret anymore. I’ve tried to hide my emotions, but it’s become difficult, especially with all the sleepless nights I’ve been having.

"In a way... Listen, Alessia, I want to take advantage of the fact that we’re alone for once," I began, glancing at Alexia, who still seemed occupied.

"A problem...?"

"Oh no. Quite the opposite. I wanted to apologize."

She struggles to hide her surprise. She opens her mouth to speak, but I beat her to it.

"I misjudged you. We started off well, but I took your reaction to my orientation before Christmas break the wrong way, and it put me off."

"I noticed," she smiles sadly. "It’s okay, don’t worry. It’s more me who should apologize. It’s just that I’ve accepted myself for a long time, so I was surprised by your cold responses on the subject. But I completely understand your position."

"You have nothing to apologize for," I chuckled. "I shouldn’t have gotten upset that day. I don’t want you to think I hold a grudge against you, or worse, that I don’t like you."

"That’s not the case, I assure you," she smiles. "You didn’t have to apologize."

"It’s the least I could do. You’re still helping me with classes and all that. It’s really cool of you. I’m glad I ended up in your class," I said honestly.

Our relationship has evolved a lot over the past few weeks. The fact that we’re in the same class helps a lot. Alessia, who’s also an art fan, has the same ambitions as I do. Not only do we have a lot to talk about, but she also gives me the motivation to keep going. Without her, I would’ve probably given up on my studies. She’s far from being as good at explaining things and her methods aren’t as great as Lucy’s, but I appreciate her efforts to help me. What she offers is better than nothing.

"I’m happy to do it. I enjoy spending time with you."

"Oh, and also... I wanted to apologize for Mapi’s behavior on New Year’s. I asked her to stop, but she did whatever she wanted anyway," I laughed.

"What do you mean...?"

"Well... Mapi purposely stuck to me all evening. She wanted-"

I pause, searching for my words. I hesitate to be blunt. I sigh and shake my head. The answer should be obvious. If I want a healthy foundation with her, I need to stop avoiding things and be honest.

"She wanted to make you jealous," I finally said. "She thought you were interested in me and she wanted to have some fun. Once she gets an idea in her head, there’s no stopping her."

"She might not have been wrong," she laughs. "So she and you..."

"There’s nothing going on anymore," I quickly replied. "We’re just friends now."

"Oh... But you’re interested in someone, right? I’m sorry... but you and Ale talk a lot in code at the table, and that’s what I gathered... I thought you were talking about her."

I smile, sensing her discomfort. I had realized that she was paying attention to our private conversations. As much as Alexia tries to make sure our friends are occupied before she starts, she can’t stop mentioning Lucy at every opportunity. I really need to tell her to stop doing that at the table or any other place where we might be surrounded by people. It’s a subject that could put Lucy in danger, even if we never mention her by name. That’s not what I want, no matter how much I hate her right now. Alessia nervously runs a hand through her hair, giving me an awkward smile. She must sense it’s a sensitive topic. It is. Especially since my own friends don’t agree with my decision. Only Mapi and Alexia know, and they’ve clearly teamed up to disagree with my choice to distance myself. According to them, I’m intentionally hurting myself by doing this. They’re probably right, but what they don’t understand is that it would be worse to keep talking to her. I can’t keep developing feelings for her, and that’s what would happen if we picked up our relationship where it left off. I’ve had enough sleepless nights to be sure of my decision. Plus, my pride won’t let me forgive her so easily. Doing so would mean accepting our situation, and I don’t. Lucy needs to understand that. I sigh, running my hand through my hair. My eyes settle on Alessia, and I speak honestly.

"I... Yeah. I’m interested in someone, but it’s not Mapi, and it’s complicated."

"I could tell... I guess that’s one of your problems right now?"

I sigh and nod.

"Yeah, you could say that... One of many..."

Even with all the problems around me, this is definitely the hardest one to deal with. I simply can’t stop thinking about Lucy. I wish I could forgive her, but I can’t. I mean, what’s the point? If I did, it would mean she got what she wanted, and that’s out of the question. My pride couldn’t handle it, nor could my feelings for her. Despite everything I’ve been through, deep down, I’m completely broken. I just don’t understand her choice. I spend my time avoiding her, but I’ve ended up studying her from afar whenever we cross paths. I need to know if she’s at least a little affected by this situation. It’s hard to read her. Lucy is a very closed-off person here, in her work. She’s been even more so since our fight. I didn’t know what to think. I felt like I was seeing it because I wanted to believe it. It was my friends who made me realize it was true. They started asking me questions about her. According to them, something was wrong with Lucy, and they wondered if I knew anything. Of course, I didn’t say anything, but it made me question things again. I concluded that our fight really did affect her. I know she cares about me. It’s obvious, and she’s made it clear to me many times... Even now, she forbids me from going back home to Barcelona, thinking it’s too risky. But in what way does she care about me exactly? Did she really only expect friendship? Her decision should tell me yes, but her actions scream the opposite. There are so many reasons why she might not want to take our relationship further that I’ve stopped thinking about it. Now, I’ve reached the point where I can no longer deny that I miss her. Every day, I wish I could tell her about my day or just talk to her. However, I don’t have the courage to do it, even with all of Alexia’s encouragement and support. I know I’d crack, and that would ruin all my efforts to ignore her. Lucy is just waiting for me to give her an opening, but I won’t do it

"Otherwise…" Alessia pulls me out of my thoughts with slight hesitation. "Why don’t you talk to Bronze about Korbin and her friends? I’m sure she’d react if she knew they were persecuting you at every opportunity," she adds, making me narrow my eyes.

"I’m not going to tell her. I can handle it just fine without her," I replied, feeling defensive.

"The reason I’m saying this is because Lucy is known for being fair. She’d definitely defend you if she knew you were in this situation."

"I don’t care."

"Besides, you two seem close… I imagine she’d want to know."

"Alessia, that’s enough," I said sharply. "I’m not going to change my mind."

Groaning interrupts our conversation, which was on the verge of taking a bad turn. We turn to look at Alexia, who’s now sitting up and staring at us. I had completely forgotten about her for a moment. She removes her headphones and starts speaking.

"What? Do I have something on my face that makes you stare at me like that?"

"No," I giggled.

"I’m going to join the others downstairs," Alessia announces, standing up. "I suppose we’ll meet at the dining hall?"

I nod gently, glancing at Alexia, who doesn’t seem eager to leave either. There’s a heavy silence when the door slams shut behind Alessia. I sigh, relieved to finally be able to occupy myself freely. I stand up to get my drawing supplies and then settle on my bed. It’s the best place to immerse myself in my new drawing, which I’ve just started.

"You know, I heard what you said to Alessia."

"Oh yeah?" I said, not taking my eyes off my drawing.

"Yeah. What exactly are you trying to do? Replace Lucy with Alessia?"

"Excuse me?" I frowned.

"Alessia will never measure up to Lucy. I hope you realize that."

I raise an eyebrow, trying to see if she’s really serious about what she’s saying. It seems like she is, as she doesn’t even blink.

"You should be the first to know that I’m not trying to replace her, just forget her. Besides, Alessia is really cool. She’s been helping me a lot even though I behaved badly towards her. The least I could do was apologize and be honest with her."

Her features soften at my response. She seems to realize that she got worked up for nothing. I’m indeed starting to appreciate Alessia, but certainly not in the way she thinks. Even though Alessia may have said she likes me, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s not the one I’m interested in. Ever since I’ve known Lucy, she’s given me the impression that she’s the only one who can truly fulfill me. She understands me like no one ever has, and she’s always been able to meet my expectations. The fact that Alexia thought I was using Alessia irritates me a bit. I’m not that kind of person. It’s even more surprising that she keeps defending my supervisor. It’s not like she adores her—in fact, quite the opposite. Things were always tense between them.

"I’m sorry," she sighs. "It’s just that I don’t understand you. I’ve never seen you this down, and it annoys me that you keep ignoring Lucy. It’s good that you apologized to Alessia, but we both know that neither she, nor I, nor anyone else can be there for you like Lucy is, and we can’t help you the way she does."

"You really need to stop talking to Mapi," I raised an eyebrow.

"I’m not talking to her…"

I challenge her to contradict me again, but she just rolls her eyes in response.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I do talk to her, but I can’t help it. She asks me to take care of you since she’s not around to do it," she defends herself. "You have no idea how crazy she drives me because she’s convinced you’re not telling her everything."

It’s my turn to roll my eyes, recognizing my best friend in that behavior. When she realizes she won’t get anything more out of me, she turns to others, thinking she’ll get more information from them. Unfortunately for her, I anticipated her reaction. I knew she and Alexia would team up against me. They had already started by insisting separately to get more details on how I’m feeling. As a result, I simply reduced what I say, making sure to reassure them while not saying exactly the same thing to each of them, so they’d have something to discuss together. They don’t seem to understand that I’m grown up enough to take care of myself.

"Talking to me constantly about Lucy isn’t going to make me feel better, you know. You can pass that message along to Mapi. She keeps talking to me about it too."

"And you think drawing her is going to help you, maybe?" she teases.

My hand freezes over the sheet where I’ve indeed drawn my supervisor while she was Sleeping. I sigh, running my hand through my hair. Well, it looks like she’s got a point. I can’t help it if I’m still having sleepless nights. It was one night when I still couldn’t fall asleep, and unlike usual, she had ended up sleeping on her back. She looked so peaceful, and I found her so beautiful that I couldn’t resist grabbing a sheet of paper and a pencil from my school supplies. It was the first night I was able to fall asleep because drawing her had calmed me down.

"I… No. It’s personal torture, I suppose."

I glance at Alexia, who grimaces at my response. What else could it mean, after all? She groans in frustration before getting up from her bed.

"Come on, move over and get that drawing out of my sight."

I shift over to make room for her and take the opportunity to place my drawing materials on the floor. I barely have time to sit back up when Alexia opens her arm to me. I groan, knowing exactly how this is going to end if I get into this position.

"No," I replied.

"That wasn’t a question. Come here."

I sigh as I settle into her arms. Surprisingly, she doesn’t speak. Usually, she pushes me to my limits and lectures me until I pour my heart out. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to cry in front of her this week. I often end up with puffy eyes that I have to hide in the shower when I get back so that Lucy doesn’t notice. So far, my plan has always worked. Maybe she does notice and chooses not to say anything, fearing it might lead to an argument. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. Today, however, it’s different. Alexia simply hugs me, resting her head against mine. I take advantage of this embrace, which is rarely this calm. We stay in that position for a long time without speaking, as she gently strokes my hair. Exhaustion overwhelms me, and before I can react, my eyes close.

Wednesday, January 27; 7:30 PM - Dining Hall.

We’ve just joined our friends in the dining hall. We arrived later than usual because of me. Alexia’s cuddles did me in, which is quite surprising. I still find it hard to believe, knowing how little can actually get me to sleep these days. Her intention was for me to rest, and I have to say she succeeded. I slept for two long hours, during which she took the opportunity to tidy up all my stuff. No one but her realized how much I needed it. Our friends were already at the table and had eaten without us, but they were kind enough to wait. I half-heartedly start on my meal once we’re seated. I’ve lost my appetite, and I know that’s not good. I don’t know how many pounds I’ve lost since I’ve been at this school, but definitely more than I needed to lose.

"Hey, aren’t you eating?" Alba asks me.

"I am, I am…" I say, bringing a forkful of mashed carrots to my mouth.

Tonight’s meal isn’t anything special. They’ve made better meals before, and certainly more appetizing ones. I scan the room, not paying attention to the conversations happening around the table. I think they’re talking about classes, but I’m not sure. My first reflex is to look across the room, where Lucy and Ingrid are sitting. I’m surprised to catch her staring at me, but I quickly avert my eyes to the rest of the room. Some students are still present, but others have already left the dining hall to go about their evening activities.

I focus on the second person in the room who’s staring at me: Korbin. That girl has a serious problem. She and her friends have targeted me for some unknown reason. For now, I’m only dealing with a few snide remarks when I cross paths with them, but they’re getting nastier. I still don’t understand what she has against me. The worst part is that she’s started to drag her friends into it. I’m really glad I have my own friends to defend me when they’re around. Especially Alba. I’ve never seen her so attentive since she found out

what was happening. According to my sources, which is none other than her sister, Leah told her after figuring out what was going on from the increasing number of snide remarks in class.

I sigh as I take another bite. I really have no luck in life. On top of that, there’s everything else happening at the same time—it’s crazy. I glance back at Lucy’s table. I’m surprised to see it empty so quickly, without having noticed anything. Usually, I always notice when she leaves the dining hall. I sigh, lowering my head. At least that saves me from stealing any more glances at her during my meal. I was about to start a conversation with Alexia, but a hand on my shoulder interrupts me.

I’m surprised to find Lucy standing behind me when I turn to see who it was. Her expression is unreadable. She’s gone back to being very detached, and I don’t particularly like it. It’s as if we’ve gone back to our early days, where only the rules mattered to her. Well, I’ve been asking for her to behave this way towards me. I’ve been ignoring her since we had our talk in the restroom. Our eyes meet, but she doesn’t react. Her hand on my shoulder hasn’t moved either.

“Is there a problem?” I ask.

“Go straight to your room after dinner.”

I narrow my eyes, understanding what she means by that. She wants me to meet her as soon as I get out of here. I close my eyes for a moment before reopening them, anchoring my gaze in hers.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re exhausted.”

“And why is that any of your business?” I say through clenched teeth. “I don’t need you to manage my sleep schedule.”

She narrows her eyes at my response, which clearly doesn’t sit well with her. Her expression grows even colder.

“There’s no room for negotiation. I’m your superior, and that’s an order. If you don’t listen, I won’t hesitate to punish you.”

Her words surprise me, though I don’t let it show. It’s the first time she’s used her status to get what she wants. She’s asked me several times to come back to her room earlier, but I’ve never listened until now. It seems she’s found another way to get her way.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” she taunts.

This can’t be real. Where’s this sudden change in behavior coming from? I can tell her question has a double meaning. I can’t even deny it. Deep down, I’ve only been distant in hopes she’d change her mind. It seems to have had the opposite effect on her. Here she is, back to being my superior. I’m irritated that she’s toying with me like this. It just gives me more reason to distance myself from her. I sigh, forcing myself not to get any more upset than I already am.

“I’ll go to my room, Commander,” I reply coldly.

“Good. You have thirty minutes, not a minute more. If I don’t see you, I’ll come get you, and it won’t be good for you.”

“The message is clear, Bronze.”

The unsettling coldness in my voice surprises even me. Lucy nods slightly and leaves without another word. She heads toward the exit, where I notice Ingrid waiting by the door. When she sees me watching, she offers a sympathetic smile, as if she knows what just happened. I return the smile before turning my attention back to the table.

“Things don’t seem to be going well between you two,” comments Alba.

“No, they’re not,” I sigh. “You were right about one thing—she’s become a real pain.”

“You think? She seems to be worried about you,” Leah replies, raising an eyebrow.

“She’s too stubborn to realize it,” Alexia retorts.

“Are you done?” I growl, shooting a particularly sharp look at Ale.

She shrugs indifferently, as if my look doesn’t matter to her. I really feel like leaving the table and isolating myself, but that would mean going back to Lucy’s room even earlier. I don’t particularly want to give her that satisfaction, though I take her threats very seriously. She’d be capable of sending me to bed without a shower and punishing me first thing tomorrow morning. I’m exasperated just thinking about it. I force myself to finish my meal, taking my time. I’m the last to finish.

The others have taken the trouble to wait for me. Even so, they’re the first to leave the table when they see my empty plate. That works out for me, as I’d like to head straight to the educators’ dormitory. That’s exactly what I manage to do. The group has gone ahead to return to the common room. They know I’ve been ordered to go to “my” room. The only person who stays with me is Alexia, as always. She walks with me up to the door of the educators’ dormitory. We haven’t spoken since earlier, but at least it’s helped to calm our irritation with each other.

“So, does their dorm look different from ours? I think you’re the only student who’s had the chance to go in there.”

I smile softly at her sudden change of subject. At least I won’t have to deal with any more of her remarks for today.

“No. To be honest, the rooms are pretty similar. The only difference is the bathroom is more modern, and the hallways are brighter and better decorated.”

“Seriously? That’s disappointing,” she pouts.

“I figured,” I chuckle.

“Ouch... I think she’s already waiting for you,” she comments, staring behind me.

I turn around to see Lucy waiting at the bottom of the stairs with her arms crossed. Her eyebrows furrow in displeasure when our eyes meet. I sigh, turning back to Alexia. I didn’t think I was late. Alexia laughs at my expression, patting my shoulder.

“Hang in there. Have a good night,” she smiles.

“Thanks,” I breathe. “You have a good night too. We’ll meet at the entrance to the cafeteria?”

“Yeah, like always.”

She kisses my cheek and then turns away. I wait until she’s out of sight before entering the building where Lucy is still standing. I walk toward her, keeping my head held high.

“I’m not late,” I say right away.

“Upstairs.”

“Oh, so you’ve decided to just give me orders now?”

“Yes, because it’s the only way to make you listen. Go on, upstairs.”

She nods toward the stairs with an expression that gives me no choice but to move. I roll my eyes and walk ahead, unenthusiastically. She irritates me when she acts like this. I stop a few steps from her door and suddenly turn around. Lucy had time to stop, maintaining a reasonable distance between us.

“I forgot my school supplies,” I realize.

“You’ll get them tomorrow morning.”

“It’ll only take five minutes,” I try.

“The answer is no.”

“Oh come on,” I groan. “Come with me if you’re worried I won’t come back.”

“I said no. Are you going to keep defying me like this? You know it’ll end badly, and you won’t get what you want anyway.”

“You’re such a pain,” I sigh.

“Don’t start again. Go on, move. It’s already late.”

“It’s only eight-thirty.”

“And you still need to take a shower,” she says, opening her bedroom door.

I enter the room, moving forward against my will. I turn around when she closes the door.

“Really?” I raise an eyebrow. “You’re letting me shower then?”

“Of course,” she rolls her eyes. “You have half an hour. Then, you’ll sleep.”

“Yeah, if you insist.”

I mutter that as I kneel in front of my suitcase, which serves as my wardrobe. Lucy’s room is so small with an extra bed that it was impossible to add any more storage. It’s very annoying to live like this, but there’s no choice since Lucy doesn’t want to let me go. I grab a new pair of pajamas and head to the bathroom.

“Thirty minutes,” Lucy reminds me as I slam the door.

I hate when she acts like this. She knows I can’t stand to disappoint her, even in this position. She’s lucky I don’t need to wash my hair tonight, but that doesn’t stop me from taking my time under the hot water. It’s the only place where I feel at peace, especially these past few days. I cherish the moments when I’m alone because they’ve become rare. I sigh as I turn off the water. I stay there for a moment, letting the water drip off my body into the tub. I get out when the cold starts to set in. I wrap myself in a towel and undo the hair tie that kept my hair from getting wet.

I stop in front of the mirror. I sigh when I see my reflection. I understand Lexa’s decisions when I look at myself now. I look awful. I’ve lost color, and my cheeks seem hollowed out. Clearly, heartache doesn’t suit me. I quickly shake off those thoughts, drying myself off before putting on my pajamas. It’s time to go back to the bedroom.

When I come out, Lucy is reading in her bed. Surprisingly, she leaves me alone. It’s probably because I’m going to bed without making a fuss. I lean over slightly to reach her nightstand. Lucy allowed me to store my phone here, and that hasn’t changed. The comment I’ve been expecting finally comes.

“No messages tonight, Ona.”

“Just a second,” I mumble. “I just want to check it, not reply.”

She nods slightly, keeping an eye on my movements. As I said, I just check my messages. As usual, they’re all from Mapi. I take the time to read them. They’re no different from the other days. She’s just checking in on me and wondering if the situation has changed. As promised, I don’t respond. I don’t feel like it, and at least I’ll have a valid excuse tomorrow night. I put my phone down and let my eyes linger on the ring in the drawer. It’s the one Lucy gave me for Christmas. I took it off after our argument. I used to play with it a lot on my finger, but I felt compelled to remove it because of its symbolism and meaning. Lucy noticed, of course. She didn’t see me take it off. I did it during the night, but the next morning, I saw her glance at my hand.

“It’s time to sleep.”

I look up at Lucy, who doesn’t seem to have looked away. I nod and I close the drawer. Without saying another word, I make sure to turn my back to her. I’ve realized that every time we talk, we tend to be cold and tense, and that’s definitely not what I need before going to sleep. I sigh, snuggling as much as I can into my blanket. I close my eyes and try to fall asleep as best as I can, but it's going to be difficult after the nap I took earlier this afternoon.

Still, just closing my eyes helps me relax. Minutes pass, and I start to drift off. I was actually on the verge of falling asleep when I heard Lucy get up behind me. I hear her sigh heavily, and a few seconds later, I feel her lips against my forehead. I have to fight against myself not to open my eyes at that gesture. She can’t know that I’m still awake. She pulls away but lets her hand linger in my hair.

“Sorry, Princess... I hope you can have some sweet dreams, for once.”

These words are only murmurs, but I heard them clearly. It’s when I no longer feel her touch and notice that the small light has finally been turned off that I realize she’s gone to bed too. Unable to control myself, a few tears slip from my eyes. Why did she apologize? I didn’t need that right now. I clutch the blanket as tightly as I can. That night felt really strange. Without being able to explain it, I managed to fall asleep a few minutes later.

[maislovebot]

Top 10 bsd characters oral scenarios: Ango Sakaguchi

It’s done!! I hope you enjoy:)

Contains: S5 EP11 SPOILERS, afab reader, no pronouns, desk sex, semi-public, quickie, switching kinda, readers outfit is ‘feminine’, overstim, pussy-drunk Ango, his tie is used as a gag, there’s an attempt at aftercare, they’re being rushed though so there isn’t much time for it

“When is your next meeting?”

“In thirty-five minutes.”

You and Ango were currently having a dilemma. Ango has been so deprived of you lately. Now that Fyodor is officially gone, and there’s been so much whiplash that he feels like he’s wasting time if he does as much as blink you two haven’t been able to spend much time together aside from a couple of hours when you two get home. Ango was honestly taking this worse than you. His main motivator for a long time is that once this all passes, he and you could spend as much time together as you wanted, but he didn’t expect to still be working even after Fyodor was gone. A small miscalculation that was causing pure burnout.

That was until he finally saw a window of opportunity. He had just finished a meeting with some lower ranked colleague, and he had the biggest window between meetings he’s had yet. thirty-five minutes. He took this opportunity to call you to his office, and he was practically all over you the second you walked through the door. As soon as you walked inside he wrapped his hands around your waist, pushing you against the door as he kissed you deeply, locking the door from behind you. He quickly pulled away to let you speak.

“Woah, Ango! You’re awfully touchy.” You teased him and grabbed a stray piece of his hair and put it back into place, gently scratching his scalp.

Ango shrugged, “I’ve got thirty-five minutes until my next meeting. Could we please do something until then?”

“Like what?”

“You know, don’t make me spell it out for you.”

You gasped dramatically and poked his forehead, “Ango! How dirty. Wasn’t it always you who told me to save that stuff for the bedroom?”

Ango shook his head.

“Not this time. Please.”

“Please what?”

Ango sighed, and whispered into your ear.

“Please, let me fuck you.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Ango was about to open his mouth, but you placed a finger over it. “And normally I’d be all for it, but you have a meeting so soon. I don’t wanna risk anyone walking in.”

Ango whined, “please, please—”

“We can still do something but it’s gotta be small. What do you wanna do?”

Ango nodded at your compromise and brought you to his desk wordlessly. God, he wants to do everything to you right now, but he knows that’s unethical. He can’t go all the way right now. He can’t touch you in whatever way he wants, and he knows it. So if he had to settle for something, he’d settle for eating you out. He’s been so stressed lately, not much could compare to your slick dripping off of his tongue and onto his desk. Knowing how addicting you were, it could probably get him through the rest of the day.

Ango tapped his desk, signaling for you to sit on it. You did as you were asked and gasped a little when he wordlessly gripped your skirt and pulled it down, your pantyhose and underwear going with it. He sat down in his chair and leaned his face down to rest between your parted thighs.

“Ango?”

Ango was almost in a trance, your voice bringing him back to reality.

“Hm?”

“Are you doing what I think you are?”

“Probably.”

You giggled, “alright, if you can get me to cum before your next meeting, I’ll treat you extra good when we get home.”

That was a joke and Ango knew it. He may have not had much experience before you, but he’s been with you enough to know he can make you cum four to five times in the time frame he had, maybe even six if he really pushed it. Although he wouldn’t go that far. At least not in public.

Nonetheless, Ango nodded, not wanting to waste a single moment. He dove himself between your thighs and kissed them gently, rubbing along your labia. He moved along, inching closer and closer to your heat that was practically dripping from his tender touch. You whined and bucked your hips into his face, making Ango smile.

He took off your shoes, undoing the buckle that kept it on your foot. The mary janes you were wearing were clunky and he knew they’d be a little heavy considering your position. You smiled at his gentle care, and whimpered a little bit when he blew cold air against you.

You really were so good for him. You two were perfect together.

Ango continued his actions, rubbing your clit gently with his hand and kissing your thighs, leaving marks that ranged anywhere from light red ones that would fade immediately to deep purple bruises that would last days. This was satisfying, but Ango grew curious, and bit into your thigh, it obviously wasn’t enough to bruise; but it stung a little, it made you whimper and throw you head back, hitting the large desk.

“A..Ango,”

Ango smiled into your thighs, and he finally kissed your clit once, before licking along your folds, collecting the slick that had formed. Your taste was so addicting he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a soft moan, sending vibrations through your body. Once Ango had collected the majority of your precum, he licked directly on your clit and laid his tongue flat across it, and you winced again, covering your mouth to prevent any noises from coming out. As he applied pressure to your aching clit, he rubbed circles along where he bit, soothing the muffled sting.

Ango quickly looked at his watch.

thirty minutes left.

What you assumed to be because of the little time left, he finally applied continuous pressure to your clit with the tip of his tongue, and he pulled his hand up to finger you gently. It was soft, and despite the current situation, it felt remarkably intimate. You resisted the urge to run your fingers through his hair, not wanting to ruin it, and instead gripped the desk. He moved his fingers in a scissoring motion inside of you, and you cried out into your hand. Ango continued with his pace, moving his tongue to completely cover your clit. He continued to lick at your clit, enjoying the muffled whines that left your mouth, along with the occasional moan.

Ango sped up his pace, fingering you with more vigor than before, his sped up actions made you buck your hips into his face and grip the desk so hard your knuckles were turning white. As he went at it, he decided to wrap his lips around your clit, and sucked on it gently. He added another finger, and the three fingers stretched you out even more than before, and you resisted the urge to wrap your thighs around his head, wanting to avoid ruining his slick-back hair.

Ango noticed that you were holding yourself back and grabbed your hands. He couldn’t risk having his hair disheveled, or anything for that matter, but he still wanted you to grab him in some way, so he started holding your hands as you tightened around nothing. It was sweet how he was trying to keep things intimate, even in public.

As much as you tried to keep silent, Ango’s name left your lips repeatedly, almost like some prayer. Ango momentarily lifted himself from you and placed his pointer finger over his lips, and you nodded at his implication, shutting your lips tight. You tightened your hands around his to make up for the lack of noise you could let out, and he simply smiled.

You felt a familiar warmth growing in your stomach, and you warned Ango.

“Ango, I’m close—” you whispered, still trying to stop anyone from overhearing the two of you. Ango nodded into your pussy and began prodding his tongue at your entrance, licking along where he could reach. He didn’t want to grip your thighs to pull you closer to him, as he was holding your hands, so he simply shoved his face as deep as he could go, entering your drenched hole. You arched your back further off the desk as you came with a low whimper, his hands taking most of the impact of your orgasm, as you were currently unable to let out noises. Your nails dug into his hands and turned where you were pressing a shade of red.

“G-good job, Ango,” you lifted yourself up on your arms, trying to calm down your shaky thighs by holding onto them. “You did good, I’ll reward you at home—!” You were cut off by Ango wrapping his lips around your clit, and sucking on it. The wet sounds that were coming out of your pussy as he kept going at it were absolutely sinful, but Ango loved it. You almost let out a moan at the shock, but you covered your mouth in time.

“Ango!” You whispered in the loudest tone you could without being heard, but he kept sucking on your clit with no shame, before Ango finally lifted himself up.

“I said we have thirty-five minutes. We still have..” Ango checked his watch. “Twenty minutes left.”

“But, Ango!” You tried to reason with him, but he wasn’t having any of it. He looked you in the eyes, awaiting your answer. “If you really want me to stop, I will.” You shook your head.

“Just be quick..”

He nodded and wordlessly bent down and kissed your clit before going back to work. He kept sucking on your clit, grabbing your thighs this time. He struggled to reach as far as he wanted before, but now he wasn’t going to allow that. He gripped your thighs as tightly as he could, pulling your dripping cunt impossibly closer to his face. You didn’t want to, but the sudden actions had you letting out loud moans and cries for a moment, before Ango sighed to himself.

“You’re simply too loud.” Ango said to you, pulling his tie down. “We can’t have that. At least not here.”

Ango pulled his tie off all the way, tying it around your mouth.

“Sorry, dear. Unless you can promise to be quiet.”

You shook your head. You knew you couldn’t stay quiet, especially not like this. Ango smiled at you and kissed your forehead.

“At least you’re honest..” he chuckled, his arms on either side of your head as he smiled down at you.

Ango brought himself back down, and without hesitation, gripped your thighs again and pulled you closer to him. He slipped his tongue as deep as it could go, successfully deeper now that he could pull you towards him by your hips. You winced, muffled through his black tie. Your taste was driving Ango mad, the small moans he was letting out proving it. They were quiet enough for no one else to be able to hear it, but you could certainly feel the vibrations shaking every fiber of your being. The muffled noises you released were strangely enough making Ango strain against his pants more than before. Something about the desperacy was extra appealing to him.

Your thighs were mere inches away from his head. You were trying your absolute hardest to not wrap your thighs around his head, as it would dishevel his hair. Your thighs tensed and tightened around nothing, trying to keep them in place was a struggle, but it was doable. At least you could grip something with your hands, even if it unfortunately wasn’t Ango’s hair.

Ango’s harsh treatment on your clit made your stomach curl up into another orgasm, you were teetering over the edge, before Ango moved his mouth back down to suck on your clit, serving as the final straw. You came all over Ango’s face again, and he licked his lips clean, diving back in to clean up what was left behind. The continuation of his previous overstimulation made you come much easier and faster after that, as Ango managed to get a few more orgasms out of you by the time his meeting was roughly five minutes away. How many times has he managed to get you to come? It couldn't be any more than five, right? Doubt filled your mind, but considering how well Ango did, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had beaten his record or something. If he had, you’d need to make sure to reward him extra well when you two got home. There was a wet stain on the desk right where your heat was, and Ango ran his fingers over your folds quickly, making you jerk your hips up one more time.

“Isn’t your meeting soon? You should..stop..that… you’ll be late.”

Ango shrugged, “I suppose so.”

Despite his words, Ango laid his arms on either side of your face and leaned down to kiss you, not caring about the slick that got on his suit.

“Ango..your suit.”

“Ah,” Ango looked down to his crotch, “it’s fine. My suits black anyways.”

Considering everything, Ango was remarkably clean. His hair was largely unchanged, outside of some strands of hair falling forward on his face instead of being slick back like usual. Besides the wet spot on his pants, his suit was fairly clean. The only missing component was his tie, so he kissed you one last time before getting up to get a tie out of his desk. For some reason, he had a habit of keeping an extra tie on him. You always thought it was silly, but it turns out it was actually useful.

Ango quickly put the tie on so he could turn back to you, and he placed himself back on his spot on his desk, checking the time. Two minutes.

“We need to hurry..” Ango grabbed your bottoms that were collected on a spot on the floor and helped you off the desk, holding you in place by the waist as he helped you get them back on. Next were your shoes, and you sat down on the desk again as Ango put your black mary-janes on, helping out with the black buckle on the shoe. He didn’t put your pantyhose on, as there was no time, but you still looked decent once you were done.

“Sorry I can’t really do much aftercare. I’ll spoil you some more when we get home to make up for it.” Ango sat up as he said it and helped you stand up, your legs were shaky and buckled as you tried to stand and walk out, but you managed.

“It’s fine, Ango,” you smiled back at him as you leaned on the doorframe. You quickly pulled out a compact mirror to fix up your hair, and you felt like you could show your face in public now. You were still a little sweaty and sluggish, but it’s nothing a bathroom trip couldn’t fix. You bunched your pantyhose in your hand to hide them, and unlocked Ango’s office door, waving goodbye and giggling at Ango’s attempt at crossing his legs to hide his hard on.

As you walked out, a tall man who was speed-walking down the hallway entered Ango’s office, walking right past you.

Looks like you two wrapped it up just in time.

Wc - 2.5k

I’m really proud of this one:) Sigma is next!

[genshinluvr]

A Guide on How to Study

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You have been studying for three final exams that are looming over you. You stayed up countless nights to study, but you're not retaining any information in your notes and study guides. Luckily for you, your twenty-five boyfriends have the perfect guide on how to study for your final exams.

Note: This is a mini-fic for my university students who have finals coming up! I have finals coming up in three days, and your girl hasn't studied the fifty-plus terms for Greek and Latin 💀 I'm hoping this is a motivation for all of you to do well on your exams and this as a way for me to force myself to study because I really do need to study 🥲Since it's finals week for me, I will be posting mini-fics for Genshin and HSR for this week. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.4k

You sit at the table in the library, staring at your study guides sprawled before you. You have four final exams to study for, and here you are, staring at the papers and not retaining the information you need to remember before the impending day. You have stayed up countless nights trying to get yourself to process the given information by your professors at the Akademiya, yet you’re not able to retain any information.

“I’m fucked,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands.

“Still studying for your upcoming final exams?” a familiar voice asks.

You peek over your shoulders to see Venti peering down at you with the other men standing at his side. You sigh, resting your head on the table, and nod. Unfortunately, you are still studying for the final exams. 

The same exams the professors have been encouraging your class to study since the beginning of the quarter. Did you do that? Kind of, but as time went by, you lost the motivation of having to study constantly. It started off just fine, but you gave up halfway into the quarter and put it off. You’re starting to question why you chose to enroll to be a student at the Akademiya. That’s one of your biggest regrets since being thrown into your boyfriends’ world.

Poke.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when someone pokes you in the cheek. You blink and look at the person from your peripheral vision to see Itto standing close to you. You groan and lean in your seat, sighing once again while stretching back.

Itto clears his throat. “Onikabuto booboo bear, you look exhausted. Have you been taking breaks in between your studies like how we told you to?” Itto asks as he pulls out a chair from under the table and sits beside you.

You stare at Itto, shrugging your shoulders. “Kind of, but I decided to cut my breaks short because whenever I take breaks, they’re longer than it’s supposed to be,” you reply.

Al Haitham raises his eyebrows at you. “What do you mean? Are you implying that instead of taking fifteen-minute breaks in between your studies, you would extend it?” 

You smile at Al Haitham, rubbing the back of your neck before slowly turning to your study guides in front of you. Now is a time to study and act like you weren’t procrastinating not long ago. You grab your papers and flip to the ones you haven’t gotten to yet, and begin skimming through them. Maybe that’s why you’re not retaining information. You’re skimming through them and not actually trying to take time to process the definitions and equations. 

Tighnari sighs, rubbing his temples. “Oh, [Y/N]. You’re setting yourself up for failure if all you’re doing is skimming through your notes. Did you know that berries are good for your memories? I recommend snacking on them as you study,” says Tighnari, reaching for your notes.

You bury your face into your hands and close your eyes. You know they all mean well, but you feel like a child being scolded for not doing well on a test that hasn’t even happened yet. You lean on the table, pressing your forehead on the cold wooden desk, closing your eyes. Dear Archons, you’re tempted to go to give up and accept your fate at this point. You can study in the morning, right? A ceramic plate is placed beside your head, grabbing your attention. You look at the plate to see sliced fruits. 

Zhongli pats your head. “Make sure not to starve yourself as you’re studying. Even if you say you’re not hungry, it’s good to have a snack or two while you study,” Zhongli says, smiling at you.

The only beacon of light during the hard times that is your studies is the men bringing sliced fruit to you while you study. It’s a small gesture, but it means a lot to you. They’re always checking up on you to make sure you’re doing well. While they care about your future in the Akademiya, they care more about your mental and emotional well-being. Heizou and Aether sit across from you.

“If you’re not able to study anymore, maybe it’s a sign to call it a day and continue tomorrow!” Aether suggests, reaching across the table and squeezing your hand.

Heizou nods. “You have time to study for your final exams! If you continue to push yourself, you’ll burn out and lose the motivation to study,” Heizou interjects.

You give Heizou and Aether a strained smile. You grab a sliced fruit and begin nibbling on it. How are they going to react when you tell them how many days you have left in your studies before the impending day? 

Cyno leans over to look at your face, narrowing his eyes while you stare at him with wide eyes. Cyno sighs and leans on the table, shaking his head with disapproval. Did Cyno see through you? This man can read you like a book. He has you figured out, like how he has TCG figured out.

“Sweetheart, when is your exam?” Cyno asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

You clear your throat. “It’s on Friday! The exam is being hosted in the lecture hall at 9 PM and—”

Kaveh looks at you with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, NINE? At night?!” Kaveh interrupts, propping his hands on his hips.

You nod. “Yeah, it’s at night. The exam is almost two hours,” you reply. “I think….”

You pull your calendar out from your backpack and flip to the month. Your brain is all over the place, and you’re in desperate need of sleep. As previously stated, you stayed up countless nights to study, and you can’t remember when was the last time you had a proper sleep. Thoma looks over your shoulders, scanning the calendar you keep in your backpack with you at all times. 

“Oh! Okay, so you made a mistake there. The exam you were talking about, that’s at 9 PM, is your last exam for finals week. You have other exams before that. The first exam starts at 6 PM,” says Thoma, pointing at the scribbled words on the calendar. 

You stare at the calendar and close it, laying it on the table before lightly banging your head on the table. Oh, you’re definitely screwed. After a few minutes, you stop banging your head on the table and sigh loudly.

“Snookums, we can help you study if you’d like! We can go through the notes together a few times, and after that, we can start quizzing you on the materials in your notes and study guides!” Childe suggests, pulling your seat out from under the table and turning you around to face him and the others.

You hum and chew on the inside of your cheek, contemplating if it’s a good idea to have the men help you with your studies. Some of them are going to get bored and distracted, and you don’t blame them since that’s been you for the last few days now. Aside from that, it’ll be good to have someone help you with your studies because someone will be quizzing you on your knowledge of the subject instead of it being you skimming through it and not retaining any information. 

“Alright, I’ll take up on your offer.”

Diluc had you move to another area of the library in the estate. According to your other boyfriends, a change in scenery is good since you’ve been sitting at the same table for hours and would go to the same spot every time you study for any of the exams you have.

“We’re going to set up a routine on how the study session is going to go. All of us will go over the study guide and notes with you, alright?” Diluc says, patting the spot beside him.

You sit next to him and pull your notes out from your backpack. It was a lot to study, and despite the men volunteering to help you, they can see why you get overwhelmed easily with your studies. The study session hasn’t even started yet, and some of them want to call it a day already.

“How are you going to retain all of these things before the exam?” Xiao mutters, holding up stacks of notes and study guides in the air.

You laugh bitterly and shake your head. “I don’t! I just pray to whichever Archon is listening to me and hope for the best that some of these things stick to my brain before the exam starts,” you reply.

Scaramouche plops down beside you and takes some of the notes from your hands. “And does that work?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Sometimes, but it really depends on what I’m studying and how the information is placed in the exam,” you answer. You look at Zhongli and give him a sheepish smile. “Looks like I’ll be praying to Morax before the exam, hoping he’ll bless me and let me pass all of my exams.” You bat your eyelashes at the former Geo Archon.

Zhongli chuckles and shakes his head, handing you a sliced fruit to eat. You grab the plate from Zhongli’s hands before passing out fruits to the others around you. Dainsleif was in charge of keeping up with the time. The only time you can take a break from your studies is if Dainsleif tells you it’s time to take a break.

“You will be going through your notes and study guide for one class. You have an hour to go over it, and once one hour is up, you will have a fifteen-minute break from your studies before one of them starts quizzing you on what you went over,” says Dainsleif.

You raise your hand before speaking, “Wait, so… is the fifteen-minute break a break from studying and I get to relax for a little bit, or is it a fifteen-minute break from going over my notes and I have to refresh my memory before being quizzed?”

“The fifteen-minute break can be anything for you. If you want to take that fifteen-minute break to go through what you have studied, then you can do that. But we recommend you take that time to relax because cramming your studies won’t help,” replies Ayato.

You sigh and flop back on the chair, staring at the ceiling while contemplating your choices in life. This is what you get for wanting to be a strong and independent person who needs no man to help them with being successful. Here you are, having your lovely boyfriends assist you with your studies. As much as you want to show them you can do it on your own, you can’t do it because you have tried it for the last few days, and look at where you are right now. 

Not retaining any information while getting a headache for stressing yourself out. It’s also nice to have company while you study because it gives you some motivation and you won’t feel lonely! Even though you know some people tend to be distracting with their touchiness, they understand how important these exams are for you and your future at the Akademiya. 

“Okay, let’s get started with the studying! We’ll continue this routine up until the day of your exams. When it’s the day of your exams, we will help you with your studies at the House of Daena before you go to the lecture hall,” says Gorou.

You can always trust Gorou to help you come up with a strategy for your studies. The men will give Gorou some suggestions, and Gorou puts them together to make a strategy that is usually successful. The only plan that Gorou came up with that ended up failing was trying to surprise you for your birthday. You were able to figure things out because they took you to many places you’ve never been to, making you suspicious of them.

Baizhu stops before you and tilts your head up, examining you closely while Changsheng slithers close to your face, eyeing you with her dark pink eyes. You blink at Changsheng and Baizhu, watching the white snake retreat back onto Baizhu’s shoulders.

“It seems like [Y/N] hasn’t been taking their melatonin. They’ve been skipping out on their sleep,” says Changsheng.

Baizhu sighs and rubs his temples. “Just as I feared. [Y/N], I know you’re going to take the fifteen-minute break to review the materials you’ve studied. I think it’s best for you to take that time and nap instead,” says Baizhu, stroking your cheek.

You stare at Baizhu and look over at the others, pressing your lips into a thin line. You see, you would love to take a nap during your fifteen-minute break from your studies, but you don’t think it’ll be a good idea. You can do anything other than take a nap.

You place your hand over Baizhu’s hands, giving them a squeeze. “What if I wake up from my nap and do not want to study? Then what?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at Baizhu.

Kazuha sits on the ground and grabs your study guides and notes. “Oh, you won’t have to worry about that,” Kazuha smiles, flipping through your notes. 

“We’ll make sure you don’t over-nap or continue to take a nap after waking up,” replies Albedo, ruffling your hair.

Kaeya smirks, raising his hand up. “But if you do struggle with it, I know a way to wake you right up,” he winks at you. 

You point an accusing finger at Kaeya. “If you’re going to shove your cold hands up my shirt, I will never forgive you for it,” you state.

Kaeya chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. Capitano, Pierro, and Pantalone gesture for you to start looking over your notes and study guides after Dainsleif brings out a timer that Dottore lets him borrow for the time being. The perfect guide to studying is having a study group (even if the person or study group isn’t in the same Darshan as you), taking breaks after an hour of studying, quizzing each other based on what you have studied, having a snack while studying, and pray to Morax that you’ll pass your exams.

If you pass your final exams, you’ll be rewarding Zhongli and the rest of the men with something for helping you study for your final exams. You’re not sure what it is, but you’re hoping it’s not going to involve Mora. 

Note: I was going to post this after the HSR fic, but I was so exhausted that I could barely get myself to type the mini-fic and post it. So, yes, this is a late post. Since this is my finals week, I'm hoping to post the second route of the Burning Desire series after my finals week. Tighnari is next because he did lead the poll and is still leading. I'm going to try to make a new fanfic request form since I'm not a huge fan of the current request form. Any requests sent in with the old/current format are void. Anyway, to my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

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