#we pull together or we go down separately

[baisemains]

Elements of Desire

Chapter 7: Revelations

single mom!sevika x fem!reader

word count: 7.8k

contains: bit of angst, fluff, alcohol, smoking, language, mention of past relationship trauma and cheating, tension..., also idk anything about poker but i tried my best 🙏

description: the truth about your past is finally revealed and you and sevika begin to move forward.

ao3 link | spotify playlist

previous // sevika masterlist

Sevika’s hand drops from her face, revealing eyes that now roam over your figure with a wary gaze.

“Everything ok?”

She looks at you expectantly and while you thought you were prepared for this conversation, there’s no way to predict how it will actually go.

You take a deep breath and decide to rip the band-aid off.

“I need to…tell you something. About what Vi said at dinner that day.”

Sevika’s expression immediately shifts to one of scrutiny as she raises an eyebrow at your bluntness.

“Okay.”

The two of you are only a few feet apart, but it suddenly feels like there are miles of space separating you as Sevika waits for you to continue, arms crossed over her chest. Her curt answer does nothing to quell your nerves but you push on, determined to see this through.

“Part of what she said was true. I was engaged, and it did end very messily, but because my fianceé cheated on me, not the other way around. I’m sure that’s what she told people to keep her reputation intact, but that’s not what happened.”

You watch the woman as you speak, her eyes slightly narrowing while she absorbs the information. Her stoic façade remains intact though, making it impossible to know how she’s taking it. As you’re talking, she continues to stare at you, your stomach twisting in knots as her gaze bores into you, searching for some sign of deception. The truth begins tumbling out and you couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to.

“One day a couple weeks before the wedding, I got an email from the planner pretty late, and I thought it was kind of weird, so I opened it.”

“It was,” you clear your throat to keep it from cracking, “a really long letter telling me that her and Gert were in love, and how she had been telling her for months that she was going to break off the engagement with me but she was waiting for the right time. The planner finally had enough and told me everything.”

Scoffing at how brazen the woman was, you continue.

“I emailed her back immediately saying she was lying and just trying to break up a happy home, and then she sent me screenshots and screen recordings of their conversations.”

At this point, your eyes are starting to water and Sevika looks concerned but doesn’t interrupt.

“Like that wasn’t bad enough, she sent me…pictures, of them together, over a year’s worth.”

The anger in your voice is apparent, your volume increasing as emotion starts to get the better of you. You don’t even notice how tight your fists have clenched until you try to take a breath to steady yourself. Sevika does notice though, her eyes drifting down to your shaking hands, before returning to your face.

“Turns out, she was having an affair with that bitch the entire time. They were already sleeping together before we even got engaged, but Gert had the balls to tell me they were old friends and hire her for our wedding.”

You’re suddenly overly aware of Sevika’s eyes on you, knowing that she’s analyzing every word and movement. She’s yet to say anything, the silence feeling like even longer than it actually is. You press on, knowing it’s too late to turn back now.

“I was a mess after that, I couldn’t even think straight, I locked myself in the guest bedroom and didn’t come out for hours. My friends kept calling, asking me if everything was okay, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell them.”

Wiping a tear away, you look down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.

“I confronted her with the evidence, and she didn’t even deny it. She told me it was a mistake and that she regretted it, but that was obviously a lie.”

Pulling out your phone, your hands are trembling as you unlock it and log into the email account you haven’t accessed in years.

“I kept all of the emails to this day, I’m not even sure why. No one besides me has ever seen them but I feel like this is important enough to show you.”

Handing the phone to Sevika, she grabs it gingerly as she begins to scroll, absorbing every word on the screen. As she reads over the long-winded exchanges, her face betrays nothing, hard lines and slight wrinkles unmoving. Her eyes burn into the screen, taking in the words as your entire body tenses up. You’ve never felt this vulnerable around anyone, and the thought of her not believing you causes your chest to ache. Luckily, the photos were in a separate thread but this one had all the initial exchanges, including the texts.

Finally, Sevika raises her gaze to you, the eye contact making your heart pound furiously in your chest. She sets your phone on the desk next to her slowly, the metallic sound reverberating through the silent room. Anxiety gets the better of you and you continue spilling all of your thoughts.

“I wanted to explain why I left to her daughter at least, but Gert obviously wouldn’t let me, and what hurt me the most was to have to leave a girl I basically helped raise. She was a little older than Isha when I came into the picture, and we were glued at the hip from the first time we met. Walking away from her was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

Her eyes flick between yours, the exact grey of a cloud on the precipice of a storm. You feel as if she’s reading your very soul, everything she needs to know displayed in your desperate face. Taking a deep breath, you look directly at Sevika and let a final sentence fall from your lips.

“I hope you understand that even though my past is complicated, I’m not someone that you or your girls have to keep your distance from.”

Letting out a long sigh, Sevika’s gaze remains firmly planted on you. She knows the look of a heartbroken person well, and she can see the emotion clearly in your eyes. Coupled with the date stamps on those emails, she knows you’re telling the truth. She begins walking over and your anxiety builds until you feel something press into your palm. Looking down, you see that she’s given your phone back but your stomach squirms when she makes no move to distance herself.

You don’t know how to describe the look in Sevika’s eyes but whatever it is causes your stomach to flutter and your spine to tingle. Her hand remains on yours as she speaks, the touch electrifying, causing currents of energy to run through your body.

“You didn’t deserve any of that. If your ex couldn’t see what she had right in front of her, then that’s her loss.”

You open your mouth to speak but words fail you, a shaky breath leaving your chest as you take in what she said. You’ve heard similar statements before, from friends and family, but it felt different coming from Sevika. Everything did.

She continues staring at you intensely, and for a moment, you’re stunned by her focus. She notices your expression and her lips quirk slightly, the most she’s smiled this entire time, causing your heartbeat to quicken.

A heavy thud in the hallway causes both of your heads to snap in the direction of the noise, Sevika taking a step back from you and the bubble of tension now broken.

Powder and Vi walk into view shortly after, sporting matching blushes and nervous smiles.

“Hey guys…”, they say simultaneously.

Sevika shifts to look at the two girls and arches an eyebrow at them, knowing her daughters well.

“How much of that did you two hear?”

Both of them remain silent, shuffling awkwardly and refusing to look at Sevika, or you. The woman next to you sighs and shakes her head, crossing her arms across her chest as she waits for an answer, the two girls giving up once Sevika clears her throat. Powder speaks up first, shifting her weight and turning to look at the ground.

“A lot…”

Sevika is scowling now, irritated that they were both eavesdropping on her conversation and ruined the moment you two were having. Anger laced in her voice, she starts scolding them.

“What have I told you about listening in on my private conversations? We’ve talked about boundaries plenty of times before!”

Vi is now looking up at Sevika nervously and responds with a pleading tone.

“I promise it wasn’t on purpose! We were coming back and heard you guys talking and I was gonna walk in like normal but then Powder put her hand over my mouth and pulled me toward the wall cause she wanted to hear what you guys were saying, and then—”

“That’s not true! I grabbed you because I wanted them to keep talking, and good thing I did because I was right, Teach isn’t a cheater!”

Powder rolls her eyes at her sister while you’re standing there dumbfounded and Sevika is fuming. She looks like she’s about to explode, clearly not in the mood for excuses when your voice cuts through the tension, saving the two girls from receiving her wrath.

“It’s alright!” You rush out, holding your hands out as a sign of peace. Sevika’s gaze flicks over to you briefly, a look of confusion flashing on her face, before staring at her daughters again, clearly upset.

“I was hoping to also tell you girls eventually,” with a lot less details, you think, “but you know now, so…it is what it is, I guess.”

A nervous smile spreads across your face as you look between the three of them, hoping this would calm things down between Sevika and the girls.

Sevika’s eyes sharpen at your words but she takes a deep breath, reigning in her temper. It looks like she’s going to say something but decides to remain silent instead, her attention now focused solely on you. Powder and Vi look properly reprimanded, not wanting to cause any more trouble. They exchange a look between each other before Vi speaks up again, her guilt getting the best of her.

“So…Gert was the one that cheated on you.”

Your mouth twists at that, thinking of how to respond. You had planned a very watered down version of the story in case you ever told the girls, exactly because of this. Vi being friends with Gert’s daughter complicated things tenfold, and even though you hated the woman, you would never speak about her to Vi the way you did to Sevika. With the cat now out of the bag, you have no other option but to tell the truth.

“Yeah. I didn’t talk to her friends or family after everything happened, so she must’ve told them a version that didn’t paint her as the bad guy.”

Vi’s head drops to look at her shoes, a shaky exhale leaving her body. She takes a moment to collect herself before looking back up at you, eyes faintly glistening with unshed tears.

“I’m…so sorry. Powder was telling me since the beginning that I had it wrong but I didn’t wanna believe that. I accused you of something you didn’t do and almost ruined your relationship with Sev, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

At the mention of the word relationship, you look around embarrassingly, fidgeting with your clothes while Sevika begins to cough, turning away as she gets it under control. You walk up to Vi and awkwardly place your hand on her shoulder, forcing a smile as you pat it.

“I get it, you were just protecting your family, I would’ve done the exact same thing if I were in your shoes. No hard feelings, I promise.”

The girl nods and shoots you an appreciative half smile before you step away and slide your hands into your back pockets. Powder speaks up a moment later, feeling out the now calm vibe of the room.

“So…does this mean you’re allowed to start coming over for dinner again?”

Glancing at Sevika in your peripheral, your mouth opens before your brain can catch up, heat creeping towards your face.

“I mean, um, that would be more your mom’s decision, so—“

“That’s fine with me.”

Three pairs of eyes dart over to the woman next to you, one with surprise that she answered so quickly, and two with a knowing look at why she did. Sevika’s gaze bounces between all of you, clearing her throat before trying to explain.

“The girls really missed you and they’ve been saving movies to watch in case you came over, so, it only makes sense.”

A bashful smile now adorns your face as you slowly nod, a warmth spreading throughout your chest. You had missed Sevika, of course, but you longed for the days when you felt like another member of her tight knit family. Looking at the woman with a sparkle in your eye, you respond happily.

“Great, that sounds…great.”

Now that the conversation has died down, a bit of an awkward air settles among the room as all of you think about how to segway to another topic. Sevika breaks the silence first, deciding she needs to have a moment to herself after such a heavy conversation.

“So, we should probably head home, Isha’s definitely tried giving Caitlyn another makeover by now and it’s only a matter of time before she wears her down.”

You chuckle at that, imagining the scenario and remembering when Isha did something similar to you.

“Yeah, of course. See you guys tomorrow then?”

Sevika weakly nods as Powder walks over and hugs you tightly, glad that everyone now knows what she felt all along.

“Come over soon, okay?”

Pulling back from the hug, you look at Powder and smile.

“You got it, kid.”

The teenager squeals as she moves towards the door where Sevika and Vi are now standing. You look at both of them before landing on Sevika who has a ghost of a smile on her face as she tells you “Have a good night, miss.”

Smiling, you return the gesture before she walks out, Powder and Vi following, the older of the two smiling at you and sheepishly waving before disappearing.

Now alone, you let out a deep sigh, your body suddenly feeling tired. The conversation went better than you expected, minus the girls overhearing, but all of the anxiety surrounding the situation left you exhausted. You slowly gather your things, thinking about where things are headed from here. Sevika was okay with you coming around them again, and as much as you wished you could be satisfied with that, you wanted…more.

Groaning, you start rubbing your temples, feeling a headache come on. Telling yourself you only wanted to be friends worked when you were unsure if she would believe you about the Gert situation, but now that she had, it was only going to get harder and harder to fool yourself. You decide to head home and see if your roommates are there for you to bounce your thoughts off of, needing to know if you are as crazy as you feel.

Your drive home is short and blissfully quiet, with your thoughts beginning to run amok. You think about what Sevika told you, about your ex not deserving you, and your mind desperately tries to not get ahead of itself. You can’t go a second without thinking about the soft expression on her face, your feelings threatening to overwhelm you.

Unfortunately, the house seems to be empty when you arrive. Tossing your keys into the bowl, you kick off your shoes and walk into the living room, collapsing face first into a couch cushion. You roll onto your back, clutching a pillow as you replay the entire afternoon in your head. Would something have happened if the girls hadn’t walked in? Sevika was never one to do something accidental, she was a very deliberate woman, and the way she was touching your hand…

Your thoughts are interrupted by soft footsteps approaching the living room. You sit up slightly to see your roommate walking in with headphones on and looking down at her phone. After yelling her name a couple of times, that fails to get her attention so you decide to throw a pillow at her.

“Holy shit!”

She screams as she yanks her headphones off and clutches her chest, breathing heavily.

“I didn’t see you under all that, what the fuck!”

You’re laughing now, hands up to show her you meant no harm.

“I’m sorry! I was calling you but I guess you couldn’t hear me.”

She playfully rolls her eyes as she plops down next to you, leaning her head back on the couch and clutching her forehead.

“You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“My bad.”

Leaning your head on her shoulder, you squeeze her thigh apologetically. After a minute, you sit back up and turn your body towards her.

“So…I did what you said and showed Sevika the texts.”

Her eyes widen as she puts her phone down, giving you her undivided attention.

“Oh shit, how did that go?”

“Really well, actually. She didn’t say anything when I was explaining, even when I showed her the emails, but at the end, she told me that I didn’t deserve what happened and that if Gert couldn’t see what she had, then it was her loss.”

Your friend gasps as she clutches your hand.

“Wait, that’s really good!”

You look down at your lap bashfully, absorbing her excitement.

“And then she kind of held my hand when she gave my phone back.”

That gets a very excited scream from your friend.

“Girl, this is great news, she wants you!”

Scratching at your neck, you continue explaining what happened after that.

“The only thing is, her daughters overheard our conversation.”

That instantly calms her down and she’s now looking at you with a confused expression.

“What?! How?”

“They had left to go look at something and when they got back, Powder kept Vi in the hallway so we could keep talking, then something must’ve fallen cause there was a loud noise and they walked in all embarrassed.”

At this point your friend’s eyes are wide with surprise, not expecting your conversation to end like that. She sits in silence for a second, mulling over everything you said before raising a questioning brow at you.

“So, they know everything?”

“Most of it,” You shrug, now biting your lip.

“More than I would’ve liked them to find out, for sure.”

“Well, maybe it's a good thing, right? They’re old enough to understand things like that.”

Your friend tries her best to reassure you and you’re grateful for it, knowing how you can sometimes spiral.

“Yeah, I guess.”

The two of you continue talking for well over an hour, your friend eventually grabbing two glasses of wine to relax among all the news. You vent about how nervous you were showing Sevika the emails and both of you rehash old relationship worries. By the end of the conversation, you feel a bit more confident about the situation.

“So you’re definitely in the clear to get in with her now.”

Blowing out a puff of air, a smile cracks through your attempt at nonchalance and you attempt to hide it by covering your face.

“Ugh, it’s been so long since I’ve had a crush, I feel like a teenager again.”

“Isn’t it kind of fun though? Especially with someone that looks like her.”

You push her shoulder at that, both of you laughing.

“I tried for a while to tell myself friendship was enough, but…I like her.”

“Aww, of course you do!”

She wraps you in her arms, rubbing your back.

“I’m so happy for you, I know this weighed on you a lot. You deserve to be happy and I’m glad it’s finally starting to happen.”

Tucking your face into her shoulder, your eyes begin to get misty. As much as you’ve tried telling yourself that over the last few years, it feels like it’s starting to become reality.

“I really hope so.”

At her house, Sevika is having a similar conversation on the phone with Vander. Standing in the garage, she’s smoking a cigaratte and blowing the smoke towards the cracked garage door as her best friend is giving her his thoughts on the situation.

“It sounds bad to say, but I’m glad Vi was wrong. I really like that girl for you, Sev, I got a good feeling about her.”

Chuckling, she shakes her head as she brushes her hair out of her face. She didn’t tell Vander any details out of respect for you, only that the situation’s been cleared up and you’re back in her good graces.

“God, I thought I was out of the game for good. I’m too grown for shit like this.”

Vander belly laughs at that.

“These things happen when you least expect it, Sev. Take it in stride.”

Putting out her cigarette, she mumbles an agreement and ends the call a few minutes later, deciding she wants some reading time before bed, thoughts of you plaguing her mind the entire way.

That week ends up being extremely busy for you and Sevika, so much so that you haven’t been able to have dinner at her house. That changes Friday afternoon when you get a voice note from her asking if you’d like to come over later for dinner. It takes everything in you not to answer too eagerly, replying with a calm That sounds good :).

Now with that to look forward to, the rest of the day breezes by and eventually it’s time for Powder to get picked up after working on her project. Right on cue, Sevika walks in, and you have to fight to keep your eyes in your head.

Her trusty leather jacket makes a reappearance, over a fitted white henley you’ve never seen, buttons undone just enough to tease a perfectly sculpted clavicle. Paired with a loose fit pair of jeans and black combat boots, she looks the very picture of heartthrob.

Powder drops something on the floor and it’s then that you realize you’ve been staring unabashedly. Clearing your throat, Sevika walks over to you unexpectedly, carrying something in her hand. When you see that it’s a helmet, you swear you almost faint. Of course she has a goddamn motorcycle.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Sevika is wearing a mostly neutral expression, only a hint of a smile playing at her lips, and you’re trying your hardest to match it.

“I know I invited you for dinner tonight, and that’s still on, but me, Vander and Silco were gonna have our poker night afterwards. If you’re interested.”

The moment hangs in the air as she waits for your answer. You’ve never mentioned being into cards or anything like that, but she hopes you’ll accept the offer anyway.

“I’d love to.”

A smile lights up your face, your hands clasped in front of you as you continue. So much for keeping it cool.

“I’m not very good at poker, but that sounds like fun.”

Sevika lets out an internal sigh of relief, even though you hadn’t yet turned down an activity she mentioned, she was still nervous, especially because other people were involved.

“Great. We’re gonna head to the house from here, but you come over whenever you’re ready. And you don’t have to bring anything this time, really.”

You cluck your tongue, looking at her with a mischievous expression.

“I’ll see about that.”

Sevika bites her lip, looking away from you but the action captures all of your attention. When she turns back to you, your staring contest with her mouth ends and you suddenly become interested in something on the wall.

Powder walks over at that very moment, a knowing glint in her eye that you and Sevika both pretend not to notice.

“I’m ready, mom.”

Nodding at her daughter, Sevika moves to step towards you before correcting herself and pretending she was just shuffling her feet.

“Right. So, we will see you in a bit?”

“Yup! I’ll walk with you guys, I’m ready to head out too.”

Truthfully, you could’ve stayed a few more minutes to organize your desk before Monday but the chance to see Sevika drive off on her motorcycle was too enticing to pass up.

You walk towards the door with your bags, shutting off all of the lights and holding it open for Powder and Sevika to walk out, locking it behind you. When the three of you reach the exit to the parking lot, Sevika pushes it open and stands off to the side.

“After you.”

Powder can only shake her head, heading out first before you brush past Sevika, eyes almost fluttering shut at her aroma. Once in the lot, you see that she parked directly next to you and walk up to her bike, admiring the way it shines.

“It’s beautiful.”

You look back at Sevika, who looks very proud.

“Thank you. Finished fixing her up a month ago, but it’s been raining too much to ride until this week.”

She walks over to the back of the motorcycle and pops the seat, grabbing another helmet and placing it on Powder���s head. As she does, her jacket lifts and a sliver of her toned lower stomach is exposed where her shirt folded under itself.

After situating her own helmet, Sevika turns to you to say goodbye when she sees the dazed look on your face. Still staring, you’re playing with the car keys in your hand, the most distracted you’ve ever been.

“You okay?”

That instantly snaps you out of your daze, flames licking at your face.

“Yeah! Just thinking about something I have to do before going over.”

You smile at the woman, hopefully distracting her from the fact that you were just openly ogling her. Again. Behind her, you see Powder covering her mouth, most likely hiding a laugh, and groan to yourself.

“Okay then, drive safe.”

She swings her leg over the seat, Powder getting on behind her as Sevika turns the bike on and revs the engine. Nodding at you once, she pulls the visor of her helmet down and drives off, leaving you behind to collect yourself.

“Shit.”

When you arrive at her house a short while later, you make quick work of getting to the porch, eager to get out of the cold. Ringing the doorbell once, only a few seconds pass before the door opens and Vi is standing before you.

“Oh, hi Vi.”

You smile at the girl before she ushers you inside, offering to take your coat. After handing it to her, she sees the bottle in your hand and asks if you want her to grab it from you.

Laughing lightly, you tell her, “No, that’s okay, I don’t want your mom to think I’m giving you something to drink.”

You quickly add on, “We’ll wait until after she goes to bed,” with a wink.

Vi actually chuckles, and you feel proud. You definitely have to build a rapport with her the way you have with her sisters, but you decide to start right away. She leads you into the kitchen where the table is fully set, and a memory of the last time you were here hits you like a train. Clearing your head, you look around for Sevika before seeing her walking in your direction.

Before she can reach you, you extend your hands, presenting her favorite whiskey.

“You didn’t.”

A smile disguising itself as shyness spreads across your face as you reply.

“Of course I did, I never agreed to come empty handed.”

Shaking her head as she takes it from you, Vander and Silco walk over, shaking your hand as you greet each other.

“Good to see you again— Oh!”

Vander reaches for the bottle that Sevika is cradling, grabbing it and inspecting the label.

“Sev, you didn’t say she had such good taste.”

He smirks at her and you pretend not to notice the way she looks down, avoiding your eyes.

“Easy, babe.”

Silco rubs Vander’s shoulder as he directs him towards the table where the girls are starting to sit down. When they notice you, they greet you with hugs, Isha pulling you to sit next to her. Even Caitlyn openly waves to you, no longer worried about Vi’s glare.

Everyone takes their places and starts serving themselves, conversation flowing easily. You spend the first few minutes a bit anxious that something similar to last time will happen, but eventually, that feeling is replaced by a relaxed one.

When dinner ends, the girls head to Powder’s room and you head to the couch, chatting with Vander and Silco as Sevika cleans up the kitchen. A few minutes later, she walks over holding the bottle you brought and a deck of cards.

“Who’s ready to lose?”

Smirking at her two best friends, her eyes land on you and her gaze softens just enough to be noticeable. You stand and lightly stretch your limbs, trying to expel a bit of nervous energy that returned with Sevika’s presence.

“Take it easy on me, okay, public school teachers don’t make much, I promise.”

Vander cackles like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard and the two of you follow Sevika and Silco to the garage where the table’s already set up. Taking your seats, the two husbands sit across from each other, already sizing each other up and trying to psych each other out.

Hearing music suddenly playing, you turn around to see Sevika fiddling with a stereo system, holding a CD case. When she’s done, she strolls over and takes her seat across from you, reaching behind herself to set the case back on the shelf.

“Hope you like Coldplay.”

“You a big fan?”

Two groans come from the men on either side of you, confusing you.

“Please don’t get her started. She’s dragged us with her to see them live six different times. I like them, don’t get me wrong, but six is excessive, they only have so many songs!”

Silco’s explanation makes you giggle while it gets an eye roll from Sevika. Looking towards her, your curiosity begins to grow.

“You like them that much?”

The woman splays her hands across her thighs and shrugs.

“Their music’s gotten me through a lot. I haven’t been able to see them the last few times they were here, but I still listen to them all the time.”

Bobbing your head, you think it’s endearing how much she likes them and decide to indulge her.

“That’s really nice, actually. I’ve never been able to see them live, but I’ve heard great things.”

Her gaze flicks up to you, a hopeful look in it.

“You’re a fan?”

Shaking your head side to side, you tell her, “Not as much as you, but I listen to them often enough.”

A shy smile creeps up her face and she looks down at her hands as she begins shuffling the cards.

“That’s cool.”

Vander and Silco are watching the entire interaction with rapt attention, they knew Sevika had a thing for you, but this was more than they expected. Standing up, Vander grabs the whiskey from behind you and raises it to get everyone’s attention.

“Drink, anyone?”

Sevika and Silco both nod and Vander shifts his gaze to you. Deciding it’s a special occasion, you agree and he heads to the bar next to the fridge to retrieve some glasses. When he returns, he sets one down in front of each of you, pouring a generous amount in the others until he reaches you. He gets to less than half of what’s in the other glasses before Sevika cuts him off.

“Not too much, Van, you trying to kill her?”

Looking at your drink, it’s definitely more than you would’ve poured but you know you can handle yourself.

“Sorry! I forget not everyone drinks like a mechanic.”

Smiling apologetically, Vander caps the bottle and puts it away, sitting back down and looking at Sevika.

“Alright, let’s get started then.”

Sevika looks up at you through her bangs as she deals the cards.

“How much you know about poker?”

Glancing around, you clench your hands, trying to not seem nervous.

“Mm, not much, to be honest. There’s 5 cards per player, right? And the goal is to have the best hand possible.”

The three other people at the table internally chuckle at your naivety. They're going to eat you alive.

Sevika agrees to let you have a couple practice rounds so you can get a feel for the game, and only when you insist on playing for real does she stop holding back.

“If you say so.”

She smirks as she deals again, she almost felt bad for how this was going to go, but this was your choice and she was going to give you what you asked for. You end up with a straight, and though it was better than everyone was expecting, it wasn’t good enough to win. Huffing, you sit up in your chair as you take a swig of your whiskey, the burn in your throat only spurring you on.

“I think I got the hang of it now.”

Laughing under her breath, Sevika thinks the determination on your face is adorable, and the alcohol in her system isn’t helping. Going again, you end up with the same hand as before, more and more chips slowly disappearing from your stack.

The drinks are serving their purpose now, jokes and laughs coming out much easier than before. You find out that Vander and Silco have been together almost ten years, their anniversary coming this summer. They tell you the story of how they met at work, and you coo as they relay the details of how it was mainly Sevika’s doing. She makes a couple comments towards you that could be taken as flirtatious, but you pass them off as effects of the alcohol.

When your foot bumps hers, you shoot her a quick apology, and she accepts it with a small smile. When it happens again a couple of minutes later, you apologize again but she only nods, pinning you to your seat with her gaze. You try to focus on the story Silco is telling, something about a vacation, but your breath catches in your throat when you feel two legs slide on either side of yours, trapping your calf between them.

Quickly glancing at Sevika, she’s no longer looking at you but at Silco, fully engaged in his story. You move to pull away from her, sure it was an accident, when her grip tightens and she hooks one foot behind yours, leaving no room for doubt. She’s definitely flirting with you.

Alarm bells start going off in your head, you never considered what you would actually do in the event that Sevika returned the sentiment. The two men are seemingly unaware of what’s going on under the table and you’d like to keep it that way. You turn your leg to the right, pressing it into Sevika to test out her reaction. You’re rewarded with a sharp inhale that you only notice because your eyes are locked onto her full lips.

The moment unravels when you hear Vander call your name, forcing your gaze to the expectant look on his face.

“Sorry, what was that last part?”

“I was asking if you’ve ever ridden a motorcycle before.”

Sevika suddenly notices the lack of music playing and gets up to change CDs, taking the warmth against your lower half with her.

“Oh, yeah, um, no, no I haven’t.”

Giving him a tight smile, Sevika returns with a cigar between her lips, offering the box around the table while Vander keeps talking.

“Ah, it’s amazing. The three of us used to do an annual bike ride through the country, just us and the open road for weeks. Nothing like it.”

After everyone but you takes one, she walks over to the garage door to crack it open, making sure to turn up the space heater before sitting back down. Sevika clips her cigar and lights it, blowing a perfect ring on the first try. The alcohol is definitely affecting you now because as you watch the smoke leave her mouth, you wish you were in its place.

You decide you need to sober up a bit before your inside thoughts make their way out of your mouth. Standing up with the slightest wobble, the entire table stops what they’re doing and looks at you with varying degrees of amusement.

“I need to use the ladies’ room, be right back.”

Walking into the house and heading straight for the bathroom, you shut the door and lock it before turning to the sink and pulling the handle for cold water. Cupping your hands under the faucet, you rub the cool liquid over your face and take a deep breath. You look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the slight glossiness in your eyes and giggle to yourself. Was this really happening?

After a few minutes of breathing exercises, and actually peeing, you feel a bit more yourself, opening the door before immediately running into something.

“Oh shit, sorry, I was just about to knock.”

You step back in a daze before your eyes focus to see a sheepish Sevika standing in the doorway.

“You’ve been gone for a bit so I just wanted to check and make sure you were okay.”

Her hands are stuffed into her pockets and she’s looking at you with worry etched into the slight crease between her brows. You start to feel unsteady again, but it has nothing to do with the alcohol.

“I’m okay, just needed to wake up a little. That whiskey is stronger than it looks.”

A chuckle escapes her parted lips and the piercing underneath them suddenly looks enticing. Stepping forward to place a foot between hers, mirroring her move from earlier, you lean in the slightest bit before watching her eyes drop to your mouth as she replies.

“Yeah, it’s kicked my ass more than once…”

“Mm, I thought you could handle your liquor.”

Both of you continue to lessen the gap, pulled together as if by magnets.

“I can, but sometimes I like to test my limits.”

“Is that so?”

Your chests are almost touching, heavy breaths mixing into the space between you. Right when you’re about to close the distance, a door down the hall creaks open and you hear giggling, footsteps coming closer until they stop right outside the bathroom.

“Oh shit.”

Standing straight up, Sevika is glaring at Vi and Caitlyn as you lean your forehead against the doorframe, sure this is some sort of punishment from a past life.

“Where do you girls think you’re going?”

It’s then that you turn to see the keys dangling from Vi’s hand.

“Uh, we were just gonna go to the store for some snacks. For the movie we’re all watching?”

Both pairs of eyes flicker between you and Sevika, cogs turning as they realize they just walked in on something.

“But we can head back to the room, no worries, we can watch the movie without them.”

They turn back the way they came, mumbling apologies as Sevika hangs her head and groans.

“I just want five minutes without interruptions, that’s it.”

You giggle at her confession, though you wished for the same. Taking it as a sign to head back to the garage, you squeeze past Sevika, fingers brushing hers and you could almost swear you feel them twitch.

Walking back to the table, you feel Sevika’s eyes on your back the entire way and only because you reach Vander and Silco’s line of sight do you not turn around and pull her towards you. She slowly takes her seat in front of you, making a show of it because she knows you’re watching.

“Last round before we call it a night?”

Vander looks around the table to sense the vibe. He and Silco have been waiting for an opening to leave without interrupting whatever was going on with you and Sevika for over half an hour. You smile and nod, thinking it’s probably late for them to still be awake. Sensing that it’s finally time to execute your plan, you calmly call out, “Winner take all?”

You’re met with three confused glances. The girl who’s been losing all night wants to bet everything she has left? It isn’t a lot, they’ll admit but never one to pass up an opportunity to make some money, they all agree.

Sevika deals, a curious gleam in her eye as she watches you. Not seeing any tells, she focuses on her hand and looks around the table, confident with what she has.

“Fuck.”

A groan leaves Vander as he pushes his cards into the middle of the table.

“Fold.”

Crossing his arms and finishing his drink, he sets it onto the table with some force, more annoyed that he lost to his husband than anything. Silco grins, even if he doesn’t win the hand, beating Vander is enough for him. He lays his cards on the table with a flourish, calling out “Full house, baby.”

A huff escapes Sevika as she looks down at her hand.

“Damn. I only have a…” setting down her hand slowly to build suspense, “straight flush.”

Once you suck your teeth and sigh, Sevika grins and starts collecting the chips on the table, pulling the piles towards herself before asking what you have.

“Ugh, I don’t remember what it’s called.”

Setting down the cards one by one, each reveal causes everyone’s jaws to drop a little more as realization settles in.

“A royal flush?”

A wicked smile spreads onto your face as you sit back, absorbing the big reveal. Exhaling dramatically, you lean forward after a moment and start grabbing your winnings, the only noise in the room being the clack of plastic chips and the muted soundtrack of Coldplay.

“I can’t believe you just hustled me.”

Sevika is looking at you with a shocked, yet proud, look on her face and all you do is shrug.

“I can’t believe you just let it happen.”

A low chuckle leaves Vander as he scans his best friend’s face, thinking She may have finally met her match.

As you all stand from the table, he pulls out his wallet, grabbing your winnings and handing them to you before you raise a hand up, declining.

“No need. Seeing the look on all of your faces was payment enough.”

He claps a hand on your shoulder, peering past you before speaking.

“I really do like this one.”

He finishes his sentence with a pointed look towards the woman, emphasizing his comment from their earlier conversation.

“We’re gonna head out, don’t worry about locking up Sev, I still have my key. You two have a good night, now.”

Shaking his head and laughing to himself, Vander walks inside, closely followed by Silco, the two of them discussing their admiration for your style of play. Once you and Sevika are alone, you swing back to face her, much more confident than you were upon arriving earlier.

“Next time, we’re playing for real money. Now that you know how good I am and all that.”

Grinning at the woman in front of you, the look on her face can only be described as awe.

“I don’t enjoy being tricked, you know that?”

Glancing around the room, you purposely avoid eye contact for a few seconds before looking at Sevika.

“I get that, but I think you like a challenge.”

A sharp exhale is the only response you get before you reach out, hand grazing hers with a purpose. You were just full of surprises today.

The door to the house suddenly opens, revealing a tired Isha who's rubbing her eyes and carrying her stuffed monkey towards you both. Trying to blink away the sleep, she looks toward an exasperated Sevika, no clue what she’s just done. When she signs Can I sleep with you? I had a bad dream, the woman can only sigh. Isha’s nightmares could get pretty intense so she instantly feels bad and scoops the girl into her arms.

Are the others asleep?

After nodding, the girl tucks her face into Sevika’s neck, already starting to doze off.

“That’s definitely my cue to leave.”

You step towards the two and gently lay a hand on Isha’s back, feeling the warmth exuding from her small frame. Looking at Sevika, you give her a small smile before telling her you’ll see her later and moving in the direction of the door. She vigorously shakes her head before stepping into your path.

“Let me walk you out, at least.”

Agreeing to that, you make your way inside to the front, slipping your shoes on, then your coat, before facing Sevika. She’s sporting the slightest pout and you almost reach over Isha to kiss it away.

“See you next week, yeah?”

Nodding with a tired sigh, she looks at you before moving to embrace you as best she can. You take what you can get, wrapping one arm around her neck and the other around Isha, reaching for the woman's shoulder. After reluctantly letting go, you open the door, Sevika holding it as you walk out and angling her body to shield Isha from the cold.

“Text me when you get home, please,” she calls out as you head down the driveway.

Turning around, you give her a thumbs up, too wired to give her a verbal response. Once you’re in the car, Sevika closes the door but continues to watch from the window while you warm up your car, taking off a couple minutes later with a frazzled wave.

The drive home is silent. You couldn’t even bring yourself to play any music, the replay of the night making plenty of noise in your head. Only realizing how late it is when you arrive and see the lack of any lights inside, you tiptoe through the quiet house, reaching your room and closing the door as gently as possible.

Leaning against the door, you let out the breath you’ve been holding since leaving Sevika’s house. We almost kissed. Twice. You cover your face with your hands as you let out a muffled shriek, giddy and excited for what’s to come for the first time in a very long while.

taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @vii-v @runawaybaby3 @ferxanda @sevikas-whore @vikashoneybee @sleepingwasp @savedforlaterr @lia-winther @bebadoobie @nymanas @dyketoast

[ryuyejiho]

"When Our Paths Crossed" Han

Pairing: Han x Reader Genre: Smut, Fluff Warnings: 18+, Smut, Dry humping Summary: Two people, who are casually acquainted, meet by chance at a café on a rainy day. As they talk and share personal stories, their bond deepens, leading to a surprising and intimate moment. Word Count: ~1.9k

It had been pouring rain since early morning, and there was absolutely nothing to do, so I decided to head to the nearby café. It wasn't far, but I took an umbrella with me because the rain was really heavy. The joys of summer in Korea.

I walked quickly because just as I stepped outside, the wind picked up, making the umbrella nearly useless. I barely managed to open the café door and squeeze through the narrow gap as the wind pressed against it. I folded the umbrella and placed it in the stand. Looking around the room, I searched for the best spot—there was only one other person inside, so I had plenty of options.

A guy was sitting in the corner, opposite the windows. He was hunched over with his head down, holding his phone, but his gaze was fixed on the floor in front of him like he was deep in thought.

I decided to sit by the window, on the opposite side from him, but as I got closer, I realized it was Jisung. We didn't really know each other—just exchanged a few words here and there at gatherings with mutual friends.

I thought I'd go say hi and headed in his direction. As I got closer, he looked up and met my eyes. For a second, he stared like he was trying to remember if he knew me, and then he gave me a wide, surprised smile. He immediately moved his things off the chair next to him and invited me to sit down.

We had coffee together, chatting about all sorts of things until the café closed. We shared so much about ourselves and realized we had so much in common—similar interests, tastes, even life experiences.

When we left the café, it was still raining, but in a gentle, calming way. Jisung had a longer walk home, so I offered to lend him my umbrella. But as a compromise, we agreed that I'd walk him to his dorm, since I had planned to stop by the store anyway.

On the way, our conversation turned to deep, emotional topics. I found out how sensitive he was, just like me. We opened up to each other about our fears and comforted one another. The closer we got to his dorm, the more we started giggling and joking around. It felt like we'd known each other forever—like we were soulmates.

"And when he poured the mix of juice and alcohol, he wanted to shake it hard. But he didn't close the lid properly, and it spilled all over him—his clothes, his face—everywhere," Jisung said, bursting into laughter as he told a story about one of his friend's beach party mishaps.

We reached the entrance of the apartment complex where he lived with the friend he'd just mentioned. Both of us were wiping tears from laughter.

"And now what? You're gonna walk home alone?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"I'll survive," I shrugged. He stepped closer and jokingly cupped my cheeks in his hands.

"Go straight home. Don't talk to strangers. Don't take candy from them. Got it?" he said in a mock-serious tone. I nodded with my eyes closed. And when I opened them...

His face was much closer. Only a few centimeters separated us. My heart started racing when I noticed his eyes lingering on my lips. He glanced briefly into my eyes, and then his face inched even closer. Once more, he looked into my eyes, though it seemed like he couldn't tear his gaze away from my mouth.

Then it all happened so fast. I felt his lips on mine, our noses brushing. We kissed like that for a brief moment. He stood there with his hands in his hoodie pockets; I was holding the umbrella with one hand. We pulled away slightly. He took a step back, and we looked at each other in silence. After a few seconds, he suddenly stepped toward me again, quickly pulled his hands out of his hoodie, and wrapped them around my lower back, holding me close by the waist. At the same time, he kissed me again, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

He held me tightly, like he didn't want me to leave. His kiss was both gentle and intense. I completely melted into it. I stood there, getting lost in the moment as the kiss grew more and more heated. When we finally needed to breathe, he pulled back just a bit but stayed close.

"I don't know if you'll even want to see me again after this, but... maybe you'd like to come upstairs?" he asked, his voice a bit hesitant, a little desperate, but still confident. I struggled between trusting him and my heart or listening to my brain.

My heart won. And so we stood inside the building, waiting for the elevator under the suspicious gaze of the security guard. Our hands were intertwined, our breathing still fast and uneven.

When the elevator doors closed behind us, Jisung practically launched himself at me. He started kissing me again, like it was already his favorite thing to do. He pushed me gently against the wall of the elevator, his hands placed beside my head, never breaking the kiss.

When we reached the right floor, he pulled away and, acting like nothing had happened, we stepped out into the hallway, discreetly holding hands. I knew he was doing it to avoid trouble if someone found out, but I found it funny.

We walked up to his door. He punched in the code and motioned for me to go in first. The apartment was completely dark, only moonlight from the large windows casting a soft glow inside. He gestured for me to be quiet and pulled me deeper into the apartment toward a door. We entered, and he switched on some LED lights. Still holding my hand, he walked backward toward the bed, pulling me along. He sat on the edge of the mattress and tugged gently, so I stood between his legs.

He looked up at me, smiling wide. Looking at him made me smile too. I wanted to squish his cheeks. At the same time, I had the urge to kneel between his legs.

There was something about his smile—hot, sexy, and irresistible. I can't even explain it.

I wanted more. More kissing. More of him. But I was too unsure to make a move. He seemed to sense my hesitation and moved his hands to my waist, his pinky barely brushing the hem of my shirt.

"And now what?" he laughed, and somehow, even that sounded sexy as hell.

"I don't know. You decide. I'm all yours," I said playfully. Even though it was a joke, he raised his brows at my words, still smiling. He laughed and pulled me even closer. Resting his chin on my stomach, he looked up at me, chuckled, and shook his head.

"Where were you when I needed you earlier?" he muttered, maybe more to himself. He leaned back a little and slid his hands down my waist. His eyes locked onto my stomach as he slowly lifted my shirt, trailing his hands upward, touching my skin. He leaned in closer and blew softly on my bare stomach. Then he looked up again, more serious now, with an intense gaze I'd never seen from him before.

After a long moment of silence and eye contact, he suddenly stood up, cupped my face in his hands, and started kissing me again—passionately, fiercely, yet with care. I didn't even notice when our kisses turned into soft moans and breaths of pleasure.

He turned us around and breaking away from my lips, he gently pushed me down onto the mattress. As soon as my back hit the bed, he hovered over me, resting on his fists. He didn't wait long before our lips met again—first gentle brushes that quickly escalated into a passionate game.

I placed my hands on his broad shoulders, but he quickly sat up on the bed, knelt over me, and pulled off his hoodie in one swift motion. Then he was back above me. This time, his lips moved to my collarbone, and my hands slid to his bare back. I tried not to make any noise, but it was almost impossible. Han practically found all my sensitive spots right away, and with every moan of mine, he either sighed or let out a quiet chuckle

"This is in the way," he said and sat me up to take off my shirt. He smiled again, like earlier. "You seem a lot shier than before. Am I really making you that nervous?"

"Not true. If I wanted to, you would've been the one under me already," I replied, to which he just nodded and giggled. We were back in the same position, but this time, his face was even closer to mine. He pecked my lips, then started leaving kisses down my neck.

In response to his teasing, I lifted my knee and lightly pressed it against his crotch. His hips instinctively lowered, wanting more. I pushed my knee a bit harder, along with a loud moan when he suddenly pressed his finger to my clit—completely catching me off guard. Jisung quickly pulled back, laughed in surprise, and placed a finger on my lips.

"Shhh, do you want hyung to hear us?" he said, shaking his head with a grin before burying his face in my neck again, continuing to leave hickeys. His right hand rested low on my stomach, pressing down and slowly sliding lower. I matched his rhythm, raising my knee again and grinding in circles. He let out quiet moans that mixed with mine.

But that still wasn't enough for him. He sat up, positioning himself between my thighs so our crotches pressed together perfectly. He kissed me again, and the kiss quickly turned deeper, with our tongues joining the rhythm.

He moved his hips gently, but it was enough to bring us immense pleasure. Though it didn't last long—Han wanted more. He knelt again, keeping our crotches pressed, holding my legs against his waist, and moved faster. I couldn't help the sounds coming out of me. I came quickly.

Jisung didn't stop—watching me, feeling what I felt, drove him over the edge too.

Even though it wasn't full-on sex, we both felt completely satisfied.

We lay there in silence, lost in our thoughts. I knew I barely knew him and probably shouldn't be doing this... but I felt safe with him. Even now, with him lying on top of me, in total silence.

"Maybe you should stay the night. I'll give you some clean clothes," he said sweetly. I mumbled in agreement, and he reached up to brush hair from my face and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. Smiling just as warmly, he got up and pulled me with him, handing me the first clean shirt he found in the laundry pile.

"Can I take a shower?" I asked. He immediately turned around, smiled and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the bathroom and closing the door behind us.

[universefcb]

Memories in a cup

Pairing: kenan yildiz X fem!reader

Summary: You were childhood friends, but you separated in elementary school, so you end up meeting again in a café.

Warning: Mention of Reader, fluff.

Author's note: He's becoming my new obsession 🥰

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

A light rain was beating down on the windows of the small café in the center of Turin. It was early autumn and the weather had that light, cozy chill that went perfectly with cappuccinos and apple pies.

Kenan pushed open the glass door, causing the bell hanging at the top to jingle. The smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon immediately enveloped him. He had the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up, trying to go unnoticed. But that wasn't why he was there — it was a curious coincidence that had made him return to that place every day that week.

You.

He was behind the counter, wearing a black apron and with slightly messy hair, as it always was after the morning shift. He served each customer with a smile and a calm manner, as if the world outside was lighter than it really was. But what caught Kenan's attention the most was the fact that you had no idea who he was.

Even after he started a conversation, made jokes, told you his name. Nothing. You just thought he was that friendly customer who always orders the same latte and lemon cake.

What you didn't know was that Kenan Yıldız remembered you from the first moment he saw you at that counter.

You studied together for two years in elementary school, before he moved away to focus on soccer. He always remembered the girl who drew in notebooks, who laughed out loud in math class, and who shared her snack with him the day he forgot his.

But time passed. He grew up, changed, and now you didn't even blink twice when you heard his name.

Until that day.

“Here you go, Kenan,” you smiled, handing him his usual coffee. “I already memorized your order. Do you want your usual tomorrow too?”

He chuckled softly. “Maybe. But first... can I show you something?”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. Kenan pulled his phone out of his pocket and searched for a specific folder. When he turned the screen to you, there was an old photo, yellowed with time. A school class, with blue uniforms and awkward smiles. He was there, with shorter hair and a boyish face. And so were you.

“That… is me?” His eyes widened. “Oh my God… that’s from school! Wait. Wait. You’re… Kenan?”

He nodded, chuckling, his eyes shining.

“The same one who fell down the stairs running away from his English teacher?” you covered your mouth in surprise.

“Do you remember that?” he laughed out loud, relieved.

“Of course! I thought you looked familiar, but I never imagined… gosh, you look different.”

“And you’re just like that,” he joked. “Only now you serve the best coffee in Turin.”

You gave his arm a light push, laughing along. After a few minutes of conversation, between laughter and sips of coffee, Kenan tilted his head slightly, curious.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, with that light but attentive look.

“Sure,” you replied, still smiling. Cleaning the table next to his.

“Why did you leave Germany? I mean… you disappeared after high school. I haven’t heard from you since then.”

His smile faltered for a second, not from sadness, but from those memories that we keep in a forgotten drawer.

“My mom got a job offer here, and we decided to start over. I didn’t want to at first, but…” you shrugged. “I ended up falling in love with Italy. The food, the people… the slower pace of things. And the coffee, of course. Always the coffee.”

Kenan smiled, as if he understood perfectly.

“Well, lucky me then.”

“Lucky you why?”

“Because if you hadn’t come, I wouldn’t have met my school friend who now makes the best lemon cake in town.”

You laughed, shaking your head. There was something different about that exchange—as if this reunion had actually happened for a reason.

Two days later, on a break from the café, you decided to walk aimlessly and ended up in a park near the Juventus training center. The sun was shining softly through the leaves, and there was a pleasant breeze. You were sitting on a bench, with headphones on and a book on your lap, when you heard a familiar voice:

“So this is where you hide out on your days off?”

He looked up and there was Kenan, with a bottle of water in his hand and his hair still a little wet from training.

“And you? Following me now?” you replied with a teasing smile.

“Maybe,” he shrugged, sitting down next to her without asking permission. “Or maybe this is fate again.”

“Do you believe in these things?” he asked, looking at him sideways.

“I’ve believed it since the day I accidentally walked into that café.”

And on that park bench, amidst the falling leaves and quiet conversations, it felt like school time had been given a second chance. This time, with more coffee, more smiles... and maybe something more.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @merinottt @htpssgavi @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[pome-seed]

The Soldier's Keeper ★ 29

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Doctor!Reader

Summary: You should have known. Bucky should have known. Today was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be beautiful. There was no world you could live in that was peaceful.

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: Canon- typical violence. Car Accident. Blood. Guns. Gunshots. Description of Wounds. Loss. Everything. (I'm so sorry.)

Authors Note: Sorry. Love you guys! Let me know your favorite scene from the series so far! I'd love to know. ALSO, if you want to be apart of the taglist, let me know :)

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

You never should have gone alone.

You knew better, but you wanted to be independent. You wanted to show him you could exist on your own, even after your injury. But you were wrong. 

You were wrong, and now it was all over.

Bucky and you had finally purchased walkie-talkies. You’d made a plan to stash them in familiar, but hidden, places in the city. So if you ever got separated again, you would have a way to contact each other, and set up a meeting place. 

You had also been putting together go bags with supplies to stash. Clothes, bandages, toiletries, a map of the city, and cash. Everything you’d need if you were stranded. Bucky wanted to be prepared for anything. He wanted to know that if you had a repeat of the last time, you would be safe.

Bucky helped you stagger down the last few steps to the apartment landing. “You made it all the way on your own, you’re getting better.” 

“And I only had to use you as a crutch for half of it. Watch out, soon I’ll be running marathons.” You chuckled, sticking your hand out for one of the duffels. Bucky was hesitant to hand it over. 

He looked at the dark handle in his palm, then glanced up at you. “Are you sure?”

“I have to be able to survive on my own, Bucky.” You told him, wiggling your fingers at him. “If I can’t walk the street alone, what's the point? I might as well live upstairs as your pet.”

He frowned, stepping closer. “You’re not a pet.”

“I know. But I have to prove it.”

“You don’t have anything to prove.”

“I do, to myself.” You smiled, wrapping your fingers around a free space on the handles. “So gimme. Let me do this. Plus, we can talk through the radios the entire time.”

Bucky huffed, shaking his head at you as he handed the bag over. You circled the handles around your shoulder and pulled out the walkie-talkie. “Doctor to soldier, do you read me? Over.” You spoke into the mic. You could hear its other half mumble in Bucky’s bag.

He rolled his eyes, pulling the radio out. “I’m not talking like that.”

“That’s going to make it really awkward for me, over.” you pressed the button. You snickered at the wrinkle between his brows. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Bucky huffed, walking with you out of the building. You walked side by side to the intersection, then stopped. “Radio me if your leg starts to hurt, I’ll come meet you.”

“I will. I’ll be fine.” You smiled. “See you for dinner,” you turned on your heel and started walking down the street. You could feel Bucky staring at you, his gaze heavy and pressing into your back. But you refused to look back. 

If you were going to have to live the rest of your life like this, on the run, you wanted to feel like you could be independent. You wanted to prove to yourself that you weren't helpless. You were in control. You could and would survive. You would make a life you were proud of and you would move forward. And you knew you could do it.

Or at least, you thought you could. 

You were wrong. 

And god, did you wish you would have just turned around.

You stashed the bag first. You buried it behind a garden maintenance shed in a nearby public park. It was dirty, and suspicious, but you buried it deep. You made sure to bury a daffodil plant from nearby over the drop site, to mark the bag.

You radioed your progress to Bucky, then made your way to the agreed on location for the walkie. 

It had been a long time since you took a walk on your own, feeling the sun on your skin and the peace of chirping birds. You used to love going on walks. You remembered the countryside inn you sayed in all those months ago, and how beautiful the trees were there.

The drop site for the radio was a few blocks from your regular street market. In the alley behind the Irish pub. There was a large graffitied Romanian word, one you didn’t recognize. You scraped along the edges of a loose brick in the center of the letter O. Once you finally tugged it free, you radioed to Bucky one last time.

“I’m dropping the walkie now, over.” You released the button, waiting for a response.

“I’m almost finished stashing the bag, I’ll see you back at the apartment.” Bucky had taken the longer route, pitying you and your injured leg. The whole intention of splitting up in the first place was to make the process faster for you both. 

You’d stash the bags, stash the radios, then meet at the apartment for a long afternoon of dinner and reading. Like any other day.

“Oh come on, you’re not gonna say it even once?” You chuckled, trying to egg him into using stupid radio lingo. 

“Nope.”

“Fine, see you at home.” You snickered, then slotted the radio into the hole. You fitted the brick back in place.

As you stepped back onto the street, you felt proud. You felt more secure with yourself. You were able to do this on your own, without Bucky’s steadying hands or pitying gaze. You did it. And even though you felt a bit childish praising yourself like that, you knew you were allowed to feel proud.

You’d overcome so much, experienced so much. You deserved a moment to be proud of yourself.

Your leg was starting to ache the further down the block you walked, the throb travelling up to your hip. You were fine though, you knew the route back to the apartment and you could drag your leg there. Worst comes to worst, you would wait at the bottom of the stares for Bucky and ask for his help getting upstairs. 

You crossed the street, your stomach rumbled. You were excited for dinner. You always ate something cheap and easy, but Bucky was able to get a stake from the butcher shop down the street. He’d been running deliveries for them for a while now, and sometimes it came with perks.

Your thoughts about getting home, and dinner, were interrupted by a buzzing sound swirling around you. 

At first you thought it must have been a fly, so you batted your hands around your head. But it continued. You glanced around, at the people walking past you, going on about their lives.

You guessed it must have been someone's phone. No one was close enough for you to hear their notifications.

Your brows crinkled in confusion. The buzzing got louder. Something flickered above you. You glanced up. 

A small, hovering machine flew around the corner. A little red light blinked. 

Your stomach dropped to your feet. 

No.

No.

You stumbled back, walking right into a man digging through his bag. He grumbled something at you in Romanian. “Sorry-” you blurted, panic rising in your chest as your gaze darted around the street. Men, women, children. Families. Couples.

But which of them was it? Who was controlling that thing?

Who was following you?

The man in the ball cap? The man dressed in all black up the street? Or was it the woman leaning against the coffee shop wall behind you, whispering quietly into your phone. It could be anyone. It could be no one. Who was it?

The machine buzzed from above, following your every step. 

Oh god.

The radio. You needed to get back to the radio before Bucky stashed it. 

You stumbled between a couple holding hands as you frantically paced up the street. You didn’t waste time apologizing. Sweat gathered in your palms. You just had to get to the radio. You needed to find sanctuary to gather your thoughts because it's fine. This didn’t have to mean anything. The machine might not even be what you think.

But the panic swelled and ached, constricting on your lungs as your mind fed you all the worst case scenarios. Because what was your life if not a whirlwind of worst case scenarios?

 The intersection ahead was busy with cars and taxis beeping at one another. Men shouted angrily from their windows. Children skipped along the sidewalk. You didn’t have time to wait for the light. You looked both ways and waited for an opening. You staggered off the curb with a wince, a pinching ache travelling up your thigh. 

You powered through, jogging across the first lane. The alley wasn’t too far away, you hadn’t made it far. You just needed to-

You heard a woman from behind you shriek. 

An engine roared. You saw a flash of red. You saw knuckles against a steering wheel. 

Your body slammed over the hood with a sickening thud. You cried out, rolling over metal. Glass fractured beneath the force of your limbs. Your skull cracked against the pavement, your body rolling a few feet away.

The world was chaos above you. People shouted and screamed for help, for the police.

You couldn’t move. Your limbs splayed out on the road. Something warm trickled down your temple. Something cold burned against your cheek, the same feeling spiking along your right leg. 

You let out a strangled breath, your cheek pressed to the ground. You tasted blood.

Leather boots stepped into your hazy line of sight. “Îmi pare atât de rău!” A high pitched male voice shouted down to you. “E în regulă! Ajutorul vine, vă voi ajuta.”

I'm so sorry! It's okay! Help is coming, I will help you.

The words sounded muffled to your ears, hovering and dissipating above you. Large hangs pushed you onto your back. You cried out, feeling something pinch in your pelvis. A silhouette hovered above you, scooping beneath your arms. You tried to squirm, your foggy mind stalling, but catching on the one thought you still had.

Run.

“Trebuie să o duc la spital!”

I have to take you to the hospital!

Bile rose in your throat as your mangled body was dragged along the bloodied pavement. A car door opened. You were being laid out across the backseat. Cold tears stained your heated cheeks. 

Doors slammed shut. You heard the engine rev. More voices spoke above you. 

No end to this would be in your favor. No police. No hospital. No witnesses.

“N-...” your throat closed around your attempt at words. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. You blinked, trying to clear your vision. Your head lolled to the side, watching the world move through the windshield. 

But then you saw it.

The man in the front seat pressed something in his ear canal, then spoke in a rushed tone. He glanced back at you from the rear view mirror.

You choked on a muted sob, your heavy hands smacking against the door above your head. The man in front shouted something at you. You groaned, crawling onto your back. You yanked the handle, but the door stayed shut. You smacked your hand against the door until your fingers found the lock. 

The driver slammed on the breaks, shouting back at you. You blinked, your vision clearing enough to finally see the man’s red face. You swung your open palms at the man, your nails catching on his skin. You snarled, shoving yourself forward to reach for him as he jerked back.

“Fu-Fuck!” you slurred, scratching his cornea. He shouted, his foot slipping off the break. You took your chance and yanked open the door.

You toppled out and climbed up on gangly limbs. You stumbled forward, running awkwardly as blood dripped down your leg. Civilians gasped as you shouldered through them, your bloody fingers sliding across walls to keep yourself up.

You took a break halfway up the street to throw up on the sidewalk, your head pulsing and aching. You could barely make sense of your movements, you just knew you had to get to that radio.

You had to move. 

Shouts cried out from behind you, you looked back over your shoulder to see the man clutching his face, waving something at you. Your stomach rolled as you realized what it was. So much for no witnesses. 

A bullet sparked against a lamp pole beside you, making you jump back in shock. “Shit-” you heaved. A group of teenagers shrieked and scattered from in front of you. A young boy shoved past you, knocking you into the nearest wall. 

You shakily tried to right yourself. It was just a second, but it was long enough.

A sharp, burning, screaming pain ripped through your shoulder. you sobbed, catching yourself on the wall again. Your trembling fingers pressed to the steadily soaking spot below your collarbone. 

You staggered forward, sliding your feet one after another until You resembled walking. You dove behind a group of tourists, frozen in the street, using them for cover. 

When you finally crashed into the alleyway, you could barely see straight. Your skinned palms dragged along the wall until you found the loose piece. You yanked the brick from the wall. Your bloody fingers dug out the radio until you had it tight in your hand. 

“Bucky-?” you slurred into the mic. “Bucky please-” you tried not to gag as blood slid down your side. You stumbled further into the alley. Mindlessly, you wrapped a hand around the cold metal hinges of the nearest fire escape. “Bucky-”

“Y/n?” His familiar voice cracking through the radio made you sob in relief. “Y/n? What’s happening?” He called to you as you slowly dragged your body onto the fire escape. “Y/n-”

You slumped against the dirty brick wall, your eyes fluttering open and closed. “Bucky…” you whispered, your body draining of energy. 

“Y/n? What’s happening?”

“Bucky it happened- it- oh god- they're using drones,” you heaved, trying to wipe the sweat from your face but only smearing blood across your cheeks. “I’m- Bucky-” Nothing made sense to your frantic mind. Adrenaline pumped hot in your veins, but you were at a steady loss of blood. Everything felt cold.

“Y/n! Where are you? What happened? Are you okay?” His voice grew steadily in panic.

“I-I’m shot Buck- I-I think I’m shot,” you whispered, pressing your free hand to your steadily oozing wound. Your fingers dripped red. 

“What? Where are you? I’m coming, are you in the alley?” Bucky sounded like he was shouting, but he felt far away. You tried to keep your eyes open, staring at the bricks across the way.

“Don’t come…” you panted. Your fingers felt cold. “They’re coming, Buck.” You let your hand slide into your lap, letting blood drip down your arm. “I was wrong…” you whispered, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry…” your lip trembled between words. You should have listened. 

You shouldn’t have been so stupid.

“Sweetheart, listen to me, stay where you are-” Bucky shouted. “Put pressure on your wounds-”

“Bucky…” you dragged your lips against the radio, leaning your face into it. “Thank you.” You knew the man was close- much closer than Bucky. You knew it was really over this time. “Thank you, Bucky.” You wept. “Thank you for everything.”

“Y/n- stop it-” 

You pressed your shaky finger to the button, cutting him off. Shouts from down the street echoed. “They’re almost here. I’m- Bucky, I’m sorry.” You whispered. “I wanted- I really wanted…” Tears streamed freely down your bloody face. “Be careful. I-I know you’ll be good.” 

There was so much you wanted to say to him.

“Y/n, just shut up and try to stay awake,” he begged. You’d never heard his voice like that. You wished you could see him. You thought it was good you couldn’t.

You wouldn’t be able to do this if you saw him. 

You wouldn’t be able to say goodbye.

“Don’t be scared.” You told him, your voice growing weak. Your head felt light. You blinked back tears. “You’ll be much safer…on your own.” You heard a man’s rapid footsteps echo in the alley. Your eyes felt heavy.

“Y/n,” he paused, his voice gruff and begging. He was panicked. He was terrified.

He wasn’t gonna make it.

You smiled ruefully to yourself. “Thank you, Bucky. For everything.” You whispered, switching the radio off. Then, as you heard the man shout at you from below, you started smacking the plastic walkie-talkie into the brick wall beside you, again and again. Until it cracked and frayed, shattering in your hand.

You felt the metal frame of the fire escape shake. You let your eyes slide closed. 

You wished you would have gotten one more dinner with him.

Bucky hit the floor, his back sliding against the door. He heaved, his throat closing up on the need to gag. He stared down at his trembling hands. Blood caked beneath his fingertips. His chest constricted, his head filled with the sounds of your soft, quivering voice.

“Thank you Bucky. For everything.”

You were gone. You were really gone this time. 

He knew better. 

He should have said no. He should have gone with you. He should have known what would happen. They knew you were the weaker target. They knew they could use you. 

He guessed that any minute, a team of dozens would be storming the apartment. He guessed at any minute, the small world the two of you had built together, would come crashing down.

The home you’d both grown so familiar with. Shattered into fragments of a bloody memory.

The apartment that still smelled like you. 

He could still see your pajamas folded on the floor beside the bed. Your touch, your color, your life was painted and embedded into every inch of that room. But it didn’t matter. You weren’t coming back. Not this time. 

He was alone.

“Thank you Bucky. For everything.”

And it was all his fault.

A/N: I'm glad the last chapter gave you guys a bit of comfort before....this....and everything that follows. Love yall!! Comment, message, send anons, let me know your thoughts. Please be kind!

@rafesgurl @pleasecallmeunhinged @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @frog-fans-unite @lonelyghosts-stuff @cherryandsugar @a-world-with-pure-imagination @unicornqueen05 @cupids-mf-arrow @sharkylalala @littlesuniee @meineguete @hawkinsavclub1983 @theconsultingdoctor10 @dollface-xoxo @bloodmocha @natalia42069 @nicolebarnes @fallen-w1ngs @justachillgirllui @avaout

[adoreispunk]

Out Of Reach (joel miller au)

“ "She's a smart girl," My dad said, correcting him. He paused for a beat.

"You two spending a lot of time together?” ”

wc:1,100

an: sleepover time ;) enjoy babies. masterlist pinned on my profile now!

Ten

Joel had texted me ten minutes before six.

Joel: Pulling up soon. Hop in quick.

That was the plan. Simple. No awkward interactions. Joel and I had texted about it as I got back to the office. Don't be suspicious. We even joked about how I'd barely open the door before launching into the passenger seat. I'd told him to park a couple houses down so my dad wouldn't see.

My overnight bag was already packed and zipped by the door. Inside: the black set Joel had asked for and a couple more for him, a couple oversized t-shirts, toiletries, some basics ,and a cute cream two-piece skirt set I'd picked since he said to bring something nice. But mostly, I packed for staying in.

I always packed a separate handbag with my camera, charger, and flash drive. I always had it with me since I started. It's corny but I always thought I could find inspiration anywhere. Even just going to the grocery store

I'd been watching the window like a hawk since five, shoes already on.

The second I saw his truck round the corner, I grabbed my phone and tiptoed down the hallway. I held my breath passing the living room, praying my Dad had dozed off during whatever rerun was playing.

One step from the door, hand on the knob—

"Is that Joel?"

I turned around gasping way too suspiciously. Finding my dad standing behind me now, blanket pooled over his shoulder, brow furrowed and peering out the window like a watchdog.

"You scared me." I look back at him. He analyzes me, waiting for my response.

"Yeah. I asked him for a ride. Since you're not feeling well."

He blinked at me, then craned his neck to get a better look out the window.

"Invite him in for a minute. Been meaning to talk to him."

Shit.

I forced a tight smile and nodded, my heart racing as I cracked open the door and waved Joel toward the house.

Joel moved like he always did, steady and unbothered, shutting the door behind him and walking up the driveway with that same calm gait. I looked down at my feet as he got closer, chewing my bottom lip, praying he wasn't pissed that the plan to sneak out had fallen apart the second my dad decided to be nosy.

As soon as he got close to the door my dad greeted him "Hey Joel, Nice to see you." Joel reached out a hand to him.

"Don't get too close," Dad warned, half-joking. "I've got a fever that could knock out a horse."

Joel paused in front of me holding the door open and offered a half-smile. "Noted. I'll keep my distance."

Joel followed my dad, giving me a quick glance as he passed. Then his fingers brushed my waist, subtle and quick, like he was grounding me. That he was calm for the both of us.

Let's just get through this conversation. Don't make anything too obvious and go.

We all settled into the living room. Joel took the armchair across from the couch. My dad sunk into his usual spot with a tired groan, and I lowered myself onto the arm beside him, trying not to look like I was made of nerves.

The TV was still running, some detective show humming in the background, filling the silence just enough to make it more noticeable when it finally broke.

"So," Dad said, sniffing, "How's business been?"

Joel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, calm and steady like always. "Busy. But it's looking up. Having Olivia around's been helping more than I expected so thank you again."

He glanced at me, just for a second but it was enough to make my cheeks warm. My dad picked up on it too. I could feel the way his head turned a little, like he was squinting through the words between us.

"She's been holed up in her room most nights," Dad said, not quite joking. "Every time I pass by, she's typing or pacing on that laptop. Doesn't even feel like she's clocked out. Thank you for that by the way. Very generous of you Joel."

I nudge him quickly. Embarrassed that my dad had just outed how much time I'd been secretly spending on Joel's business.

Joel nodded, looking over to me. "She's a good girl. Sorted through job applications, ran points on a couple of interviews already."

"She's a smart girl," My dad said, correcting him.

He paused for a beat.

"You two spending a lot of time together?”

I let out a short sound. Caught completely off guard by how that question felt.

Joel didn't flinch, but I could feel the way his posture locked up just a little.

"We've been working. Not sure what you mean."

Dad gave a small nod, but the silence that followed was too weird for me. I crossed one leg over the other, fingers tapping against my knee.

"So," I cut in, getting up and forcing a smile, "It's getting late and my friend is waiting for me so we should go if that's okay.".

Dad blinked at me, then Joel. "You're not driving far, are you?"

"Nah," Joel answered quickly. "Just dropping her off across town."

Dad nodded slowly, like he wasn't convinced but wasn't going to push it. "Well alright. Text me when you get there Liv. And Uh —Keep my baby safe, Joel."

Joel didn't say anything, just gave a small nod and clapped a hand to my dad's shoulder. Giving the faintest grin.

I grabbed my bag by the door, too eager to be out of the house. Joel stepped ahead to open the door, and the moment it clicked behind us, I sucked in a sharp breath.

"He knows." I whispered.

Joel slid a hand against the small of my back looking back, steering me gently down the steps. "He doesn't know anything."

"He knows something," I hissed. "Did you hear his fucking question?"

Joel looked down at me, smirking now. "Well, he should know you're damn good at your job. That's all that I was talking about."

I rolled my eyes, sliding into the truck. "You're lucky you can lie so well."

He leaned in as he shut the door behind me, voice low and smug. "I'm not lyin'."

I squinted my eyes back at him, "Liar."

Then he rounded the front of the truck. Getting settled in the drivers seat.

I tried to ignore the way my pulse was still racing like I hadn't just sat across from both the guy I wanted and the man who'd kill him if he ever found out.

[the-moon-loves-the-sea]

(X, X)

This has happened to so many people seeking a gender marker change in the past week — documents seized, passport marked “processing.”

But the office tells them it won’t be released until they have a law in place to back up the EO, which says passports will only be issued marked with someone’s assigned birth gender. No matter what the person’s other papers say.

We need phone calls! We need congress to know this matters to us. Trans people are a small minority. They need cis people to speak up. Here are the links to call your congresspeople and your attorney general:

Their offices keep track of the top issues being called about. Even if they’re liberal, they still need to know they have voters’ support to act on this. You don’t have to be eloquent—you just need to tell them this affects your friends and makes you feel unsafe as a citizen. If their right to documents can be revoked, so can yours.

[dmumt]

genuine question is having a flatmate ever a pleasant experience

[invoncible]

BLUFF ✰ mark grayson & mohawk mark w/ childhood bsf! fem! reader cw. canon compliant themes (ex. distress)

SUMMARY. when mohawk mark doesn't find debbie at his childhood home, he goes after the next best thing: you. he thinks you're together in this world too, and when he realizes you're not... well, how could he possibly give up such a perfect opportunity? / wc. 6k oops

— i started this to train my writing skills but it got out of hand T-T anyways enjoy <3

You didn't even notice your phone ringing. It must've been the third time it buzzed on your kitchen counter but for the life of you, you could not look away from the news. Invincible was laying waste to all the major cities of the globe, seemingly unprovoked.

Your breath caught when the news broke to process new information, senses finally tuning into the whirring behind you. You swiped your phone, barely glancing at the caller ID before answering.

"Hel—"

"Y/N, thank goodness." Debbie gasped on the other end.

You stood rigid. You've known Debbie your whole life. You and Mark were inseparable growing up—it was a rare occurrence to hear her so unnerved. Her unease was contagious, zapping through the wireless connection and taking root in your conscience.

"Are—" You cleared your throat, clutching the phone tighter. You walked over to the window, dragging down the blinds with two fingers and peeking outside. "Are you okay? You sound—"

"Fine, I'm fine." A shaky exhale was what you were met with, along with the sounds of a car starting up. "Honey, have you seen the news? You need to stay safe." A pause followed, too long to be natural. "Do you have anywhere else to go?"

You scrunched your brows in confusion. "Um... no, I don't. But from what they're saying on the news, the Invincibles are only targeting big cities."

"Listen. If you stay there—" Debbie's line crackled as you assumed she was driving away, far away from the neighborhood and fast. “—‘ll come for you.”

“No, you don’t have to do that. I've got my car if something goes wrong.” You pulled away from your phone, glancing at the call screen when you got no response. "Hello?"

"In light of new footage, we have information that—"

The TV fizzled out next, the low drone of cable replacing rowdy chatter of the newsroom. A low-pixel message of NO SIGNAL floated around the screen, bouncing off the edges.

You stared at yourself in the black reflection, wishing it would flip on again so you weren't alone with your thoughts. The paranoia was setting in... you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Mark is—”

beeeeeep.

"Hello?" You whispered over the phone, desperate for Debbie's familiar comfort. “...Debbie? Mark is what?”

A rhythmic beeeep beep met your ears instead. You glanced at your phone once again—CALL FAILED.

"Ohhhkay." You muttered under your breath. This is fine, you soothed yourself.

The electricity in your house died out, gently setting you into darkness. With the TV signal lost and your phone disconnected, the cell towers and power grid were probably down.

This is fine. As long as you stayed inside, you'd be fine.

You pulled down the blinds once more, letting a shred of the sunset glow into your home. Your gaze travelled to Mark's house; across the street, a couple houses down. So easily accessible yet so distant at the same time.

You and Mark were attached at the hip for seventeen years—your entire lives. Separation should have felt strange. But just two years since growing apart, his absence almost felt... normal.

Almost like he was never there to begin with.

You went off to university. You assumed he did, too, but got more reliable intel when you connected with William. He shared that they both got into Upstate, as well as his girlfriend, Amber.

Girlfriend?

You remember the pause you took to process that information—the moment you realized he was moving forward while you remained where he left you. Facing the reality that you were no longer a part of his life.

"Stop fidgeting," You whispered with a little chuckle. "It's high school, not the end of the world."

"High school is where things start to happen." Mark whined as he pulled down the hem of his sweater. "Grades matter, who you hang out with matters, girls matter."

"Uh-huh."

"You think I would make a good jock?"

"You've got the look for it."

"Dumb?"

"Yes."

Mark rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips as you both walked up the steps to the next phase of your life. "That's not very nice."

"You can be anything you want, Mark." You groaned, deciding to be encouraging. "Literally. You're good at everything. You'll fit in wherever you want to."

"Okay. Too nice." He huffed and bumped into your side. "But thanks. I just..."

Your brows furrowed in concern when his head dipped, distress sneaking its way through his cheerful disposition.

"Stuff's supposed to happen this year. Big stuff." He was mumbling, unfocused like he regretted taking the conversation this direction to begin with. "I don't want to mess this up."

You wanted to tell him high school wasn't that deep. There were complete losers that all turned out just fine. Something about his expression, though... it was heavy.

You weren't sure what he was talking about, but you knew what he needed. You always did. "Whatever stuff you're talking about... it's gonna work out. You'll take it one step at a time just like you always have, and you have your parents at your side.... William, me."

He offered you a little smile. "We'll do this together?" He held out his pinky finger.

You giggle and interlocked yours with his. "Together."

He broke that promise pretty quickly. Different classes were the first step apart. From there, it only got harder to see each other.

Family stuff was Mark's favorite excuse—vaguely explaining family stuff had become 90% of your conversations. You figured he didn't want to tell you whatever he was really going through, which was fine. It hurt, but it was fine.

Before you knew it, you stopped talking altogether. You didn't think much of it at first—you were approaching adulthood, obviously you were going to get busy. You just thought you'd get busy together. You didn't even know what he was up to these days.

You drew back from the blinds with a long sigh, hoping that Debbie and Mark were safe. Wherever they were.

You trudged down into the basement to turn the generator on. The wooden stairs of the unfinished space crrrrrreaked under your feet. You waved away the dust, pounding your chest to cough the particles that snuck their way into your airway.

It was cooler down here, much darker without the ambient lighting of the sunset above. With your trusty phone flashlight, you managed to maneuver your way through the storage buckets and old boxes to the backup generator.

You grunted trying to pull the lever down. "Shit..." you cursed in disgust, feeling the grime and dust underneath your palm. i want electricity i want electricity, you repeated over and over to block out the icky sensation.

"Need some help?"

"Ah—!" you shrieked, spinning around in a panic. Your flashlight illuminated the figure in front of you, shadowed by the soft light of open door upstairs. "What—" who—?!

"Damn. Relax."

Vaulting over your initial dread, you grabbed something—a wrench or a hammer, you didn’t know, you didn't care—and swung it with all your might.

They caught it in their fist. Your breath shriveled up in your throat at how stiff they were, intercepting your attack without even budging. Their fingers curled tight around the tool and yanked you close.

"tsk, tsk," Their low voice chuckled. "Thought you'd be happy to see me, pretty girl."

You shone your light into the intruder's face, the tension in your body dissipating when you recognized—

"...Mark?" You squinted in the darkness, the flashlight just barely illuminating his face in a ghastly glow. "Wha... what are you doing here?" You huffed.

Blood was pumping through your system, telling you to get ready to run. Your nerves wouldn't calm their tingle even though you realized it was just Mark. Cuz it was Mark, right?

"Checking on you."

"Where's your mom?"

"Smart enough to leave home."

"Oh, yeah. She called. I thought you'd be with her..." You trailed off, frowning when you heard him laughing. "What?"

"Nothing." He hummed. "You're just so..."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"Okay..." You gave him a weird look. Then your brain caught up to you: Pretty girl? "Aren't you dating Amber?"

He took a moment to think, tossing the wrench aside and grabbing your wrist in his hand instead. "Am I?"

You pursed your lips, eyes narrowing. "I'm... asking you?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

"What—" You exhaled, brows knitted in confusion. You tried to pull away but he held firm; for every step back, he followed. "Mark, wait—"

Your phone clattered to the ground, the ray of light spinning chaotically through the darkness before it fell on its back.

"I missed you." He murmured lowly, almost reverent in the way he boxed you against the cold generator. "Shhh..." He calmed your trembling frame with his strong arms (when'd he get so strong?) wrapped around your shoulders.

He burrowed his nose in your hair. "It's me, bunny. Why're you so scared?"

This isn't Mark. Your heart pounded at your chest, eyes frozen and piercing into the darkness over his shoulder—Wake up, dumbass. This isn't Mark.

When your tremors refused to quiet, he pulled back with what you hoped was concern. That's when you saw his hair...

"Is that..." You whispered. The soft light from the main floor was fading, but reflected off the shiny sides of Mark's head. "Are you bald?"

What was he doing in the two years since you saw each other?

"Aw..." He laughed heartily, leaning further towards you and flattening his palms over the top of the generator. "Not quite."

He leaned to your side, breath fanning over the shell of your ear as he continued to snicker to himself softly. He grabbed the lever of the generator and shoved it down.

Your body jostled into his firm chest as it sprung to life. It went clank-clank-clank-clank, pumping electricity back into your home. You heard the melodic trills from upstairs as devices booted up again.

The light in the basement flipped back on. It didn't reach you. Mark towered over you and kept you in shadow. But you could see him—rather, who he wasn't.

"What?" Mohawk Mark grinned down at you, sadistic and teasing. "Not who you were expecting?"

No, not who you were expecting. He looked like Mark, sounded like Mark, felt like Mark... But your Mark had a kind face.

"You're not..."

"Nope."

You felt the heat drain from your body as you simply stared up at him, wide-eyed. Run. Where? Why the fuck was he dressed like ... Invincible...

A connection snapped together in your head, synapses clicking together like legos. Oh. Invincible. Everything made sense now, and you felt a little stupid for not figuring it out sooner.

And now one of those murderous variants you saw on the news was in your home.

"You're really out of it, huh?" He frowned, waving a gloved hand in front of your face. He sighed and looked away, "I thought you'd—"

You had the itch to burst into a sprint. You snatched your phone off the floor and ducked under his arm, skipping stairs to the main floor. Car. Keys? Where the fuck did you put them?

A shuddered whimper tumbled off your lips. You felt helpless, mind racing with too many things at once to pick one task and get out of there. You snatched your purse from the sofa, rifling through it to make sure your keys were inside before going outside.

"Come on, come on," You whispered, out of breath.

"Don't run from me, Y/N," Mohawk Mark sang teasingly, drawing out the last syllable of your name. "Hey, I'm just playing with you."

You screamed anyway, the sound harsh and high-pitched. He pouted, hand firmly around your arm to prevent you from breaking away.

"C'mon, baby. You're hurting my feelings. We're just having fun, yeah? A little roleplay?"

First off, you wished he'd stop calling you things like that. It felt wrong, but... good. With every pet name, he let butterflies loose in your tummy. Your heart pulsed, sending heat to your cheeks. Your brain reminded you, this isn't Mark... this isn't Mark... this isn't the real Mark...

Second, what kinda freaky ass fuck did he turn into?

You rolled out of his grip, barely making it a step away before his arm circled around your stomach, pulling you back into his chest.

"Get the fuck off me—" You squirmed uselessly, your phone and bag tumbling onto the floor. You yelped when he threw you over his shoulder, patting the small of your back affectionately as if securing cargo. "Mark!"

He just laughed, taking off through the door at a abnormal speed. Your nose smushed into his back under the acceleration, stomach somersaulted twenty times over as you soared up into the clouds.

He stopped in the air. With a hoarse shriek you clung to him as if he was your lifeline. He was, in this moment, despite everything. Your legs immediately latched around his waist, and he supported you with hands under your thighs.

"Oh, come on, now." He chuckled with a shake of his head. He easily held you and brought a hand to wipe your cheeks. "I'm just playing around. If I'd known you were this sensitive, I would've taken it a little bit easier on you..."

You hadn't even realized you started crying.

He stared at you, eyes trailing over your face. He laughed softly to himself. "Who am I kidding. No, I wouldn't have. You know how cute you are when you cry?"

You glared at him but his grin only grew wider. "What? M'not gonna hurt you! Haven't I shown you that?"

You stared at him incredulously, finally finding your voice and blowing up at him. Your fists curled, pounding at his chest and jabbing a finger in his face. "You broke into my home and have me hanging 100ft in the air?!"

"So? I'm not dropping you, am I?" You felt his fingers tap against your thigh.

"That—" Your cheeks burned. but from being embarrassed or flustered, you couldn't quite place.

"This world's Mark is the biggest piece of shit for leaving girlfriend all alone."

You blinked, "Girlfriend?"

"Yeah, you're..." Mark's head tilted, sharp eyes acutely aware of your confusion. "Ohhh. Don't tell me that fucker didn't lock you down."

You didn't even know what to say. Things were being thrown at you left and right and you were still on the fact that Mark was Invincible. Your mind rifled through all the headlines that had his name... all that pain, death, and destruction... and how you weren't there for him.

He clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Well. I'm a better version, anyway."

[]

The sun finally set on day 2 the war with no hope in sight. Mark just admitted Eve into the hospital—she stubbornly decided to help him with two of his variants and paid the price. Her broken leg was under construction, and she was unconscious.

Mark sighed as he closed the door behind him, looking up to see Cecil waiting for him in the hallway.

"You can't be here, kid."

Mark scowled. "The other Invincibles know about this place. They could kill her to get at me. I... can't lose another friend. I won't."

After Amber, Mark wanted to be with Eve. It was the next logical step, right? Both superheroes, went through a lot together, understood each other... But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not even under Future Eve's advice.

Not when he still held space for you in his heart.

He was an asshole for it, he knew that. He couldn't put a date to the last time you spoke and he selfishly held onto your memory. Were you pining for him like he was pining for you?

His time with Amber taught him a lot. He wasn't going to make you suffer like she did. He wasn't going to ruin the friendship he had with you just because he selfishly wanted your love.

"We're losing this, Mark." Cecil sighed, snapping Mark out of his thoughts. The bruise on his face throbbed with every word. "The world needs you."

"You got every superhero on the planet fighting for you right now." Mark shot back angrily, shutting his eyes only to see you behind his lids.

"Mark. Oliver's out there. Your mother's out there." Cecil pressed, pulling out his phone. "Which reminds me. She left a voicemail."

With his interest successfully piqued, Mark listened as his mother's panicked voice played over Cecil's device.

"I can't reach Mark—if you see him, tell him I'm at Paul's. Oliver insisted on going out there, and I let him on the condition he finds his big brother."

Mark's gaze dropped down to the floor guiltily, a war of emotions swirling inside him.

"I couldn't stop him if I tried. He was going to sneak out anyway, but..." A sharp inhale. "I'm worried. I know they're strong, I know that. But these other versions... they're nothing like Mark." Seconds of silence passed as she collected her thoughts. "Can you check on someone for me? If all these Marks grew up the same, there's a childhood friend on our street that he was never without. I tried to reach her but service went down. Please."

Cecil pulled back his phone. "I already sent agents to her home—"

Mark's head snapped up, gritting his teeth in annoyance. "What did I say about going near my family?"

"I wasn't aware she was family." Cecil raised an eyebrow, pocketing his device and pulling down his cuffs.

"They're my responsibility. She's my responsibility." Mark retorted, running a anxious hand through his hair.

"A thank you would be nice." Cecil mumbled, unperturbed by the boy's argument. "Seeing as you are currently shirking said responsibility."

"Don't—" Mark lurched forward, a threat on his tongue. Cecil flinched backwards, his hand firmly in his pocket finding his controller.

Mark pulled back, dropping his fist. "...Just shut the fuck up, Cecil." He blasted off through the halls.

Cecil watched him leave with bated breath, exhaling slowly when he got the intel that Mark was off the grounds. At least he was out there.

[]

"I killed the Guardians, yeah."

"All of them?"

"Yeah. No big deal."

You raised your eyes in surprise but the notion wasn't as gruesome as you thought it would be. Blinded by love, maybe? Or were you just happy to be talking to Mark again, regardless of the version?

Hours ago, you couldn't imagine sitting in your bedroom with the man who invaded your home. But, genuinely, what were you supposed to do? Pick a fight and lose? Worse, die? You weren't so stupid to waste the goodwill he held for you.

"What happened to me in your world?" You asked, your voice quieter now.

Mark tilted his head, exhaling through his nose. His jaw flexed, like the memory alone was an irritation.

"The resistance killed you to get at me," he muttered, his voice dark, laced with something sharp and unhinged. The crazed gleam in his eye flickered under the dim lighting, like a fire burning just beneath the surface. Then, with an almost amused sigh, he shifted his weight, offering you a small, self-satisfied smile. "Don't worry. I made them pay for it."

You didn’t bother asking how.

Mark’s arm stretched behind you, draping lazily across the back of the pillows, his fingers idly toying with the fabric of your sleeve. Every casual brush of his fingertips sent a ripple of goosebumps across your skin.

"We were a good thing, you know," he mused, voice lower now, softer. gentle. "You didn’t fight me. You didn’t run. You loved me." There was a teasing lilt in his voice that you recognized.

That’s not so different here, you swallowed the thought, masking it with a roll of your eyes. "Did you love me?"

That made him pause. His gaze flicked to yours, brows furrowing slightly, like the question had caught him off guard. Then a slow smirk tugged at his lips, amusement flashing in his expression before he let out a low chuckle.

He leaned in so close you could feel his breath ghost over your lips. "Let me show you," he murmured, voice dark and filled with intent.

The air between you tightened as his hand trailed from your sleeve, fingers dragging along the bare skin of your arm, slow and deliberate. His touch was light, teasing, like he was waiting for you to react—to pull away or lean in.

You offered him nothing but a careful stare and the slow rise and fall of your chest.

His eyes narrowed, delighting in the challenge. His nose brushed against yours, his lips lingering just shy of touching.

Pull away, your brain screamed at you, ringing every warning bell it had in the book. This isn't right.

But his other hand came up, grazing along your jaw... and his fingers slid beneath your chin, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes... all of it felt so familiar, like something out of a dream. And it'd been so long since you saw his brown wells, you couldn't tear your gaze away.

Your daze was broken when you heard him laugh again. He adored the way you frowned in confusion, the moonlight twinkling in the reflection of your eyes.

“Aww,” he cooed, lips curving into a knowing smirk. “look at you. So easy. This world’s Mark has left you all alone, hasn’t he?”

Your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths as he tilted his head, watching you squirm.

“S'like you’ve been waiting for this," he hummed. His hand gripped your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him. His eyes darkened at whatever he saw.

“I’ll take care of you,” he murmured, brushing his lips over yours—you could feel him smiling. “Since he won’t.”

Stop, stop, stop. You wanted Mark, wanted him desperately, but not like this. Not with him.

You released the breath you were holding when he paused his fixation on your lips, head turning minutely to the side as if he was hearing something.

"For fuck's sake..." Mark scoffed, a low chuckle passing through his lips. "Speak of the devil."

What?

Mohawk Mark heard the whistle of air before you did, only clueing in when it grew louder. It reached a peak when a projectile CRASHED through your window—

You scrambled backwards on your mattress as splinters flew everywhere. Mark caught you before you tumbled off the bed, shielding you from the broken glass and wood.

"What's—" You began to ask, but over Mark's shoulder you saw him—the real Mark.

You just stared at each other for a moment, though you couldn't see much past his tinted goggles. But the slow scowl growing on his lips communicated all you needed to know.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Mark—the real one—growled. "Get off her."

Mohawk Mark laughed into your shoulder, turning to face him. "Why? She's not yours, is she?"

Mark's eyes twitched behind his goggles, abandoning his inhibitions and diving at him, grabbing his variant's hair and yanking him off of you—

"Mark..." you warned, fear bubbling in your gut.

—your caution fell on deaf ears; Mark threw him up and drove him through the floor.

"Mark!" you yelled behind him, feeling the air whip past your face, following him as he crashed into the living room below. "Shit—"

Squeaking as you fought against the slope of the cavity, your feet, only clad in socks, provided the worst possible grip and you began slipping down the gap. Your breath caught in your chest as you felt yourself plummeting—

"Hey." His voice was urgent yet comforting, his arms tightening around your body in seconds, pulling you back from the edge. "I got you."

Your hand instinctively gripped his shoulder, grounding yourself as you realized you were suspended in his embrace. As he gently descended to the floor, your eyes moved quickly, scanning the outline of his goggles.

"You... I guess you know now, then." His voice was low, heavier than usual, like a weight he’d been carrying finally released.

The moment your feet met the ground, you stepped back, your heart pounding. Across the room, Mohawk Mark was sprawled on the floor, blood leaking from his nose, unconscious for now. Your gaze flicked back to your Mark, heart still racing.

"Yeah, I know." You snapped, the anger rushing through you, the frustration and confusion bubbling up.

His expression faltered, something unreadable flashing across his face before he sighed, almost too quietly, as if he were disappointed in himself.

"You’re angry," he observed, his voice tinged with regret.

"No shit, I’m angry!" Your hand shot out, slapping against his chest before it balled into a fist at your side. Every inch of you was yelling at him, every question, every unspoken feeling, everything that had been left unsaid for the past two years. "The first time I've seen you in two years and it's—it's not even you?"

"I know, I know," Mark’s hands moved to his mask, tearing it off with an impatience that only grew when it caught on his nose. He grimaced as he yanked it free, tossing it to the side. The dim light of the room revealed the exhaustion etched into his face, but even through that, you could see him—the real him, just... different. Worn down, tired.

"I can explain."

"You better fuckin start."

"Be mad at me all you want, but look at this." His arms gestured wildly around your place. "I was right to not tell you! It could've been way worse, way sooner if you knew anything about what I was really up to. Why didn't you leave when Mom called you?!"

"The phone cut off, asshole, I didn't hear everything she said, and I certainly wasn't aware that you were the one behind Invincible—"

He shook his head, dismissing the topic. He stepped into your space and held onto your arms. "Did he touch you?"

"Get off me."

"Did he touch you?" He pressed, shaking you slightly as his grip tightened around your biceps.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the urgent crack in his voice. "Yes, but I let him."

He pulled away from you as if burnt. A heavy silence hung in the air, nothing but the clattering of broken floorboards crashing down from above.

"...He's a murderer, Y/N." He whispered, eyes narrowed.

You knew that. You knew he was right. "I was... vulnerable."

"He killed people—"

"Shut up," You snapped, cutting him off. "Don't lecture me; this is a nonissue. What was I supposed to do? Hm? Want me to pick up my fists and come out swinging like you did—"

"I thought he was hurting you!"

"My hero." You rolled your eyes, the words dripping with bitter sarcasm. You knew you were being unfair, maybe a little cruel, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You were exhausted from the many near death experiences you've somehow survived in the last few hours. Strung so tight you felt like you might snap.

Every inch of you was begging to cry and let him hug you like you both so clearly wanted... but the fact that it took something this bad to get him to show up? That hurt more than anything.

Mark stared at you, his face an amalgamation of emotions, like he couldn’t decide on one.

Should he be angry at you for being difficult, for making him work for this moment when all he wanted was to explain? Should he feel pain, the sharp ache in his chest that another Mark got to hold you before he did? Or was it jealousy, searing heat into his face, that another version of himself had been the one to touch you, to be close to you before he had the chance? Maybe... maybe it was the bittersweet happiness, the relief that he was finally standing here in front of you.

He didn’t even care that you were glaring daggers at him—he missed staring into your eyes, albeit hardened and displeased, making his heart race; the way you’d furrow your brow when you were frustrated, the way your voice would call out to him.

Mark’s hand twitched at his side, wanting to reach out, but he held himself back. Would you even allow it? The distance between you was far more than physical. He had a thousand things to say but in that moment, words felt hollow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he finally muttered, his voice quieter, more vulnerable than he intended.

Childish.

You scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes again. "All that time and that's all you have to—"

Before you could finish, your world spun. The floor tilted beneath you as Mohawk Mark launched himself into you, sweeping you off your feet and through the door.

[]

"Y/N!" Mark yelled after you, breathing heavy in a panic. "No, no, no, no—" He launched himself from your home, bursting through the roof after you.

You barely heard him over the rushing wind. You clawed at Mohawk Mark's back, the height siphoning the air from your lungs. "Stop..." You ordered weakly.

"Changed your mind already?" He laughed, cradling you in his arms. Your head lolled against his chest. "Don't tell me you buy his bullshit."

"Mm..." The sharp ascent from ground level to the clouds made your head spin, vision darkening as you grew dizzier.

"You're fucking dead!" Your Mark came out of nowhere, shooting up beside Mohawk Mark and bashing his nose in. With a pained groan, he dropped you. "Shit—"

"Look what you made me do, dipshit!" Mohawk Mark snarled, shoving Invincible away and bolting after you.

"Don't—" Mark growled in frustration, racing against time. He watched as your limp body dropped helplessly against gravity.

It never changed. Whether he told you or not, you would end up in these perilous situations regardless. He cursed under his breath, catching Mohawk Mark's ankle and catapulting him into the night sky before pushing forward.

He collected you in his arms before it was too late, wasting no time as he shifted his direction and carried you off to GDA's hospital.

[]

The steady beep... beep... beep of your heart monitor was the first thing you tuned into upon waking up.

"Oh, good."

Your eyes fluttered open, slowly drifting towards Mark. He was bent over your cot, his hand on your forehead while staring down at you with stars in his eyes.

"You just passed out. Nothing serious, but I wanted to make sure." He mumbled, pulling back.

Your eyes drifted back to the ceiling, unfocused and hollow. There was too much—too much to process, too much to feel, too much weighing down on your chest all at once. It pressed against your ribs, thick and suffocating, a tidal wave crashing over you before you could even take a breath. Every nerve in your body screamed with something—fear, exhaustion, embarrassment, confusion—but it all blended together into one overwhelming, crushing force. Your mind was shutting down for its own sake.

The sounds around you dulled into distant echoes, the weight of your own limbs barely registering. Your chest rose and fell, but it felt mechanical.

"Y/N?" Mark whispered, brows furrowing in concern. "Hey." he poked your shoulder.

You shook your head, turning away from him as tears pooled in your eyes. God, you felt so embarrassed.

Mark frowned when you shifted away from him, any comfort he planned to offer dying in his throat. "I'm... sorry." was all he could say.

Nothing.

His leg bounced nervously, chewing at his lip as he fought with his own emotions. "I want to kill him for putting hands on you."

Your brows tightened. Not what you wanted to hear either.

He sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair. "M'sorry for blowing up at you. It's not your fault—"

"It is." You sniffled. "I missed you... so much, that I pretended that he was you..." you choked on the words, turning your back to him and burying your face into the pillow. "How pathetic is that?"

Mark's heart squeezed, kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the bed next to you. "Stop. Not your fault." He reiterated.

You scoffed and shook your head, laughing wryly. He frowned, and pulled you to face him. He saw your tears and felt his own pile up behind his eyes.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I told my.... uh, last relationship that I was Invincible. It didn't end well for her, and I didn't want to put you in that same position. Always unsure, always in danger, always waiting..."

"I'm not her, Mark." You muttered.

"I know." He pursed his lips. "I was gone for months at a time—"

"I waited two years for you, didn't I?" You pushed away from him and sunk back into the cot. "You didn't even give me a chance."

Childish. That’s how you sounded. Because in the end, that’s all you two were—two kids who once grew up side by side finding each other once more, with all the petulant hurt coming through the surface.

A beat of silence passed between you, with nothing but your heart monitor to keep the time.

"You said he touched you." He started.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "...don't bring that up."

"No, I want to know." He shifted his weight, hovering over you. His face was painted with something foreign, green-eyed and greedy. "Show me."

Heat blossomed on your face as you lay in his shadow. "Mark..." You laughed nervously. "It was barely anything."

"You missed me so much you had to settle for that." Mark didn't look away from you for a second. "I want to give you the real thing."

You screwed your face up. Again, the thought passed through your mind: you wanted Mark, but not like this. "I don't want this to be a pity thing."

"No," Mark shook his head firmly. "not pity. Everything I feel for you has been there since... since I can remember. And it fucking boils my blood that a different version of me got to you before I had the balls to do it myself. Please," he whispered. "I need this."

"Need what?"

"You." He answered, like the answer was obvious. To him, it was. "I'm done waiting around."

You blinked at him before a soft smile spread across your face. "Me too."

Mark's lips brushed against yours with a gentleness that made your heart ache. He cupped your face in his hands, and you melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

You let out a soft sigh when his lips parted slightly, allowing you both to breathe. You pressed forward, kissing him harder, feeling the intensity of everything that had been building between you over the years—years of longing, of waiting, of wanting something more.

Mark responded with equal hunger, his hands sliding down your back, pulling you closer. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his heart pounding against yours.

Where had he touched you? Mark didn't care anymore. By the time he was done with you, you'd know his touch and his alone, and he'd know every inch of you like the back of his hand. He wasn't leaving this room without it. He was allowing himself to be selfish for once; for you, it was worth it.

He sat back on his haunches, tugging his gloves off by his teeth before diving back into you, sliding his bare fingers underneath your shirt, sighing into your mouth as he squeezed your skin in his palm.

"You'll never need anyone ever again," He nosed your cheek, trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck. "Promise."

This time, you believed him.

— wayyy too self indulgent lmk if it was boring at places :)

© invoncible

[starfruitii]

cws & notes. fluff. post-timeskip. iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader, + special guest appearances from the seijoh 4 because i love them. 800+ words.

“Wait. Wait a second.” Oikawa squints at you, then at Iwaizumi, then back at you again. “Something's different.”

“First time we see you in almost a year, and you're already acting weird.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, pulling out two chairs for you both to sit down. “Nothing's different.”

“Glad to see leaving Japan hasn't changed you, Oikawa.” You chime in, sliding into your seat. It was a nice little cafe, not too crowded, but not empty either. The table Oikawa had chosen was tucked away in the back, right by a window overlooking the street, giving you a perfect opportunity to watch the people walking by.

“No.... no, something is definitely off.” Oikawa looks over to the other two occupied seats, searching for some sort of agreement from his companions. “You two see it, don't you? Something has definitely changed since our last meet-up.”

“Our last meet-up was last September. I think it would be weirder if we hadn't changed a little since then,” Matsukawa laughs, waving him off. “I mean, look at Makki's haircut.”

Hanamaki looks thoughtful for a moment, nodding at Oikawa. “Nah, I think he's got a point. You two seem a little—Wait, what do you mean? What's wrong with my hair, asshole?”

“Hey, I didn't say it was bad! Just... different.”

“So, different in a good way?”

“Uh... sure, if that's what you want to go with.”

“You—”

“This isn't about Makki's hair!” Oikawa interrupts, pointing an accusing finger towards Iwaizumi. He looks up from the menu in his hands, glaring back at Oikawa. “It's about them. Something happened between you two, didn't it?”

“Maybe they got engaged.” Hanamaki suggests.

“They have to be dating before they get engaged.” Matsukawa pauses, realization on his face. “Wait, is that it? Did you guys actually start dating? Do I owe Makki ¥2000?”

“You're all imagining things.” Iwaizumi says bluntly. “Now, are we going to order or not?”

Oikawa's suspicion doesn't waver, but the mention of food distracts him enough to begrudgingly let the topic go. He waves over a waitress, ordering drinks and snacks for the whole table. Once she is gone, the conversation shifts to Matsukawa's work, then Hanamaki's lack of work, then everything Oikawa has been up to in Argentina.

Throughout the visit, you sit back and relax, chiming in with your own anecdotes and comments every now and then. For the most part, you keep quiet, content with listening to your friends as they catch up. Ever since graduation, when you all went your separate ways, reunions with all five of you were few and far between, so you were just happy to be together once again.

You barely notice the time passing at all, until Oikawa is five-minutes deep into a rant about his new team. Iwaizumi looks at his watch and balks, standing up from his seat.

“It's already five.” He says, cutting off Oikawa's voice. “I gotta get going soon.”

“Me too,” You sigh.

“Already?” Matsukawa groans.

“Both of you?” Hanamaki asks, raising an eyebrow. “You have plans you'd like to share?”

“He's my ride home.” You shrug, gathering up your things. “It was great seeing you guys though. We'll have to hang out again when you're all free.”

After your goodbyes, the two of you leave the cafe and walk the short distance to Iwaizumi's car. Once you're alone, you settle into a comfortable silence, accompanied by the quiet sounds of the city in the background. Without your friends' scrutinizing gaze, Iwaizumi walks a little closer to you, until your shoulders lightly brush. The slight touch sends a shiver down your spine, but you make no effort to move away.

“So, Oikawa seems to think something is up.” You say casually, watching Iwaizumi frown at the mention of his friend.

“He can think whatever he wants to think.” He rolls his eyes, holding open the side door of his car. “We don't owe him anything.”

“We do have to tell them at some point, don't we?” You continue, as you climbed into the passenger seat. “You of all people should know he's not going to shut up about it until we do.”

“Of course I know that.” Iwaizumi grumbled, as soon as he was sat in his own seat.

“So...?”

“So what?” He adjusts his mirrors, glancing over at you.

“Is he right?” There's a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It's clear you find it much more amusing than he does. You lean closer, whispering the words like they're a grand secret. “Is something different, Hajime?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head a little, but can't hide the small smirk on his face. His hand reaches out to grasp your chin, tilting your face upwards so he can press a slow, sweet kiss to your lips. As he leans back, there's a light pink dusting his cheeks. “I don't know. Has something changed?”

You laugh lightly, savouring the taste of his lips on your own. “Nope. Nothing at all.”

do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai. reblogs are appreciated <3

[enhard]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊

enhypen’s favourite positions ! (MDNI)

CW: enhypen ot6 x fem!reader (separately), breeding, squirting, sleepy sex, body worship, rough sex, both praise and degradation, pet names, ass slapping, unprotected sex, public sex (in the jungwon one)

disclaimer: i am not ot6, i just do not feel comfortable writing smut with riki

wc: 2k words, enjoy!

˙⟡ ⋆ 엔하이픈 이 희승 - Lee Heeseung ~ Mating press

heeseung’s burning desire is to breed you. he wants to fill you up to the brim, to mark you as his. of course, his favorite position would be the mating press. to just have you under him with your knees bent while he’s straddled over you. the visual alone would be driving him crazy. he considers it far more intimate than any other position you’ve tried together.

he grabs onto the backside of your knees, pushing them into your abdomen while he fucks you with deep thrusts. your pussy swallows him whole perfectly, the wetness making it all that much easier. the way he has you pinned down into the mattress it is impossible for you to move away, you can just lay still and let him fuck your thoughts out of you. he could go slower and deeper, really hitting all the spots. but he could go faster, rougher. he’d dig his nails into your thighs, forming little moons as dents in the skin.

“my fucking god... you’re so perfect. look at how cute you look letting me fuck you dumb.” all you can do is whine on his cock, closing your eyes to take it as well as you can. the position is helping him get so deep inside you, making you want to give out already. his words are not helping either, they just add to the knot in your stomach. “mm..hm..” you cry out. “such a good girl... you’re adorable.” he adds.

“h..heeseung.. please plea-- oh, fuck please... I need your cum...” you start begging and crying.

oh and after a few thrusts, he can’t handle hearing your begs any more, he cums deep inside you moaning a few times before he stops pounding you.

but there is no way he stopped there.

⊹ ࣪˚ 엔하이픈 박 종성 - Park Jongseong ~ Cowgirl

jay loves your tits so much, he’s the hugest tits guy ever no matter their size or what they might look like. he loves looking at them while you bounce on him. he usually keeps his hands on your thighs, digging his nails into them to keep you going.. but sometimes he moves his hands up to massage your boobs, taking them in his mouth when he decides to sit up. when it starts feeling too good, he just lays back with his eyes closed, enjoying every bit of pleasure.. making sure to thrust up into you whenever he feels like it, or when you request so. sometimes he’d like when ride him in a chair perhaps the one in your kitchen when he’s done cooking for you.

before you could enjoy your dinner together, he wanted to get his treat first.

with his head leaned back, he grasps onto your thighs letting you bounce on his cock. he just stares at your pretty body, popping a tit in his mouth at one point. he licks and sucks on your nipples as you move your hips back and forth on him. “jay..baby.. feels so good.” he hums in agreement. he loves how good you feel on him, he just can’t stop now. he pulls his mouth away to watch your tits bounce every time you ride him, pleasure taking over both your bodies. he grabs onto your ass to make you go faster than before now, your legs are starting to give out. but you need to have him cum inside you, one way or another.

“j..jay i’m gonna cum.. please fuckfuck i can’t anymore—“ you moan out, your toes curling from the sensation.

“me too pretty girl, let me see that perfect pussy squirt for me, come..on..” he says softly. after coming undone all over him, you got the cute little creampie you deserve. it’s a shame that the food got cold until you got to eat it : (

perhaps you got a bit too busy..

⋆.˚ 엔하이픈 심 재윤 - Sim Jaeyun ~ Doggy style

we knew. just anything from the back works wonders for jake. he loves your ass so much, it is just so convenient for him to fuck you from the back. he will always look at you pouty when he is in the mood for it but besides getting to smack your ass anytime he wants, he has easy access to touch you all over your body, including grabbing your neck from behind when he starts going a bit rougher. this man wants to bend you over any and every surface he could find. the desk, kitchen table, party bathroom sink you name it and he’s down for it. jake could just rip a hole into your clothes to fuck you just like that..

a few smacks echo through the room from his hand making contact with your ass.

“such a fucking whore..” he hisses while grasping onto your hair trying to go as fast as he can. you can’t stop letting out loud sounds, taking all of him in like that is making you dizzy. he got you grasping the sheets while fucking you so good. “jake…” you faintly whisper, not being able to talk as much anymore due to the pleasure and the roughness he’s got on you.

“princess you’re doing amazing for me, you’re wrapping so good around me..”

he leans in to give you neck kisses while pounding into you like that. he’d go faster and faster until you squirted all over him, just to keep going all night cause you being bent over for him drove him crazy as is.

✧ˎˊ 엔하이픈 박 성훈 - Park Sunghoon ~ Pronebone

sunghoon loves lazy but rough sex. something he’ll always request is fucking you either when you’re about to sleep or in the morning. sometimes he’d hold you until you woke up, slowly working up the idea for a quick morning fuck to start the day. he loves laying you down flat on your stomach, so he can saddle up behind you, bending his knees to fuck you. he’d position his arms so he has support, then he’d begin pounding your pussy while praising you for how good you’re doing.

just like jake, he loves doggy too. this is a variation that he loves just as much. just having you take him like that makes him so satisfied, he’d press on your back while he gets rougher... with messy hair, and morning voice, he would absolutely destroy you in bed with this position. it’s so easy for both of you but he can get so deep inside you it’s driving him insane. he could just wrap one arm around your waist, to thrust faster and faster. he’s ripping you apart at this point, making you moan so loud deep into the morning.

now it’s late at night and you’re both back in the mood. he got you flat on your stomach again, straddled over you with rough strokes. you both might be half asleep, but this is much needed from both of you.

“hm..m.. baby..” he slightly moans, keeping his pace constant.

with closed eyes, you lazily reply back.. already in a daze. “hoon.. i..know.. feels so good..” you whimper. it is dark in your room, you can only hear dragged noises of your skin slapping together.

he keeps going, but soon when you’re just about to cum you grab onto your pillow tightly, squeezing him as you finish making him groan. he slaps your ass, caressing it a bit after to mute the tingly feeling. he’s getting close, and he starts moaning more frequently.

“love.. i’m gonna cum..” he moans out while squeezing his eyes shut. you can barely reply anymore from you hitting your high, so you just let out a few sounds. he ends up pulling out to stroke his cock a few times before spurting out ropes of cum all over your ass as he’s a moaning mess.

you both catch up your breath and when he collapses next to you, you turn to face him just to stroke his cheek a bit. he closed his eyes for a second but he swore he fell asleep right there and then.

ˎˊ˗ 엔하이픈 김 선우 - Kim Sunoo ~ Missionary

sunoo’s favorite is definitely a classic. might be considered basic but there’s that touch of intimacy to it. to just be on top of you, legs wrapped around him as he gives you deep kisses… moaning a little into your mouth when you squeeze his dick a little too hard. he’s not rough with you, quite soft actually.  he much rather prefers a nice and slow pace, being able to hit all your good spots when he’s inside you. he loves to fuck you like this whenever you both feel a bit tired, on a silent night... or just some lazy morning sex. you just love holding onto his arms while he’s supporting himself with them... and from time to time you squeeze your legs together a bit harder just to get him deeper.

“honey, let me make you feel good, ‘kay?” he smiles softly while giving your earlobe a few kisses. he moves down to your neck, then chest kissing all over your body before grabbing his body with your legs.

“sunoo.. please do. I need you.” you say, eyes sparkling at him so sweet and so innocent-like. your intentions are far from innocent though...

when he starts thrusting into you, he just leaves out the sweetest sounds, definitely does not refrain from being a little loud for you. when it starts feeling too good and you’re just about to finish, you squeeze him as hard as you can while riding out your orgasm.

you never miss cuddling after every round, he just collapses on top of you… hugging you like never before.

⋆˙⟡ 엔하이픈 양 정원 - Yang Jungwon ~ Spooning

similar to sunoo, jungwon likes to do this when you’re both feeling a bit lazy or when you want to do a little public fuck. it works wonders under the sheets, nobody even notices a thing when he’s deep in your insides... well, if you don’t get too loud that is. jungwon likes to give you slow and deep strokes, messing with you while the others are close to both of you. that is maybe at a sleepover or spending a night in a tent outside, who knows. though, when you’re both left alone he picks up a pace that you didn’t know was humane. when he’s spooning you, he loves grabbing onto your hip pulling you back on him while you lay down trying not to scream out of pleasure.

even when you’re both alone at home, he’d use this position for some easier penetration if he’s too tired for actual sex. oh how he would kiss your shoulder and bite down on it a bit as he’s thrusting into you. he whispers sweet nothings into your ear while being so close to you, his voice sending chills down your spine.

“won… please..please keep going.”  you whisper, while the others are resting in the same room as you two.

he slightly laughs, leaning into your ear. “you wanna get caught?” he sneaks two fingers to your clit. “such a bad girl, hm?” he whispers ever so slightly.

you can hardly handle it anymore, but you can’t cum yet. not with so many people around you. “mm..m” is all that leaves your lips now, getting stimulated from all points is something you cannot handle right now. you try grabbing his wrist underneath the blanket to make him stop a bit, but that only makes him hiss, flicking his fingers on your clit even harder.

“fucking..hell jungwon…I can’t..” you whimper, not being able to do much anyway, he controlled everything and he wanted to see you react like this.

when you two are finally alone again, you know well that he’s thrusting into you as fast as he can, you both riding out your orgasms trying not to make too much noise. You have a shaking orgasm, while jungwon pulls out to cum all over your thigh. he kisses your neck, soon having to worry about the cum stains left on the blanket.

at least you had one hell of a time, right?

an: HOLYYY ENHARD IS BACK!! i missed writing for a little while -=-

[meowdei]

i adore you (can’t you see you’re meant for me?) — ft. sylus

sylus likes to sleep late in the mornings, and you like to admire him. the two are just a series of steps that bring you to where you are now: on top of him

word count. ❤︎ 4.7k words — it’s literally all pure filth with no plot idk what to say atp

before you read. ❤︎ female reader ; established relationship ; sleepy sylus ; banter and teasing ; reader rides his abs (do not look at me) ; praise kink (it goes both ways tbh) ; blow jobs ; cum eating ; reader has an obsession with his veins (it is her not me okay?) ; sylus wraps his hand around her throat (but no choking) ; body worship + one clit kiss ; nipple play ; morning sex ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; do not be fooled it is all pretty soft i promise

commentary. ❤︎ i am new to this game and i haven’t gotten too far go easy on me for this one :( i dedicate this to all my sylus loving nonnies in my inbox thanks for helping me figure out this game LOL. and kass. ily kass

Sylus sleeps more when the sun is out than when it’s not. You don’t mind it so much—not when the view is what it is.

(He’s pretty, and so is the sun. The two combined make for an even prettier picture. You think, if you weigh your options, there are certainly worse things out there than sitting beside your sleeping boyfriend and waiting for him to wake up.)

It’s hard to keep your hands to yourself, though. His hair is too tempting not to brush away from his face. And while your hand is right there, it’s a little impossible not to cup his cheek for a moment. And, well, if you’re already touching him, you might as well let your hand slide down to his chest and rub circles against the skin. He leans into your touch subconsciously anyway—it’s not hurting him. It’s helping.

(You like telling yourself plenty of things to justify your hand and his skin having an early morning rendezvous.)

“Bored, sweetie?” His voice is always deeper when laced with sleep than it usually tends to be. You stiffen, moving to pull your hand away, an apology already prepared on your lips for waking him when he catches your wrist, eyes still closed. “I didn’t say to stop, did I?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you huff, letting him guide your hand back to his bare chest. It rises and falls slowly, so warm and firm under your palm that it’s a little dizzying.

“Am I?” He cracks an eye open, “I was just enjoying a little tenderness. I wonder why I can’t ever seem to receive something so sweet when I’m awake.”

“Precisely this reason,” you say flatly. He raises a smug brow. Just to humor him, you add, “Your ego can’t handle it when you’re awake.”

“What, that you find me too irresistible not to touch?”

“Sylus, go back to sleep,” you grumble, shuffling away from him with a face that feels unbearably hot under his half-lidded gaze. “You’re easier to get along with that way.”

“I don’t know,” he all but purrs. In a swift motion—swift enough that you let out a shrill squeal—his hand tugs at your arm and pulls you close enough that he can hoist your body to sit on his lower belly. “We get along pretty well when we’re wide awake, don’t you think?”

His hand hikes up your (well, technically his) shirt and rests on your hip, nothing but the thin fabric of your panties separating you from him as you’re seated on top of him. You shiver lightly when his thumb caresses your hip bone, a satisfied hum pulling from his throat at the feeling of goosebumps rising against your skin. 

“Sylus,” you breathe, squirming over him—but you can’t say much else because you cut yourself off with a soft gasp when you hear the distinct sound of something tearing. 

Fabric. 

More specifically, your fabric. Your underwear—which was a rather nice pair too, you think woefully—is torn into two pieces, one held in Sylus’s hand like some form of victory, while the other falls against his belly with nothing holding it together around your hips. 

You blink. He gives you a large Cheshire grin.

“Sorry, sweetie,” he says, not so apologetically, “They were just in the way.”

“I liked those!” You hiss, glaring at him, “They were nice!”

“What, you don’t think I can buy you more? I could buy them faster than I could rip them, I’m sure.”

You have your doubts about that last part—but it’s still persuasive enough that you’re no longer as mad as you were just a moment ago. But you’re still petulant, pouting as you huff, “You ruin everything.”

“Mmh,” he hums, closing his eyes, voice still a low drawl from sleep as he says, “Are you sure? Because I can feel you dripping already, sweetheart.”

Shame floods your system quickly, but lust is faster. Stronger, too, perhaps—because you don’t have it in you to be ashamed for too long before you grow impatient. With a deeper pout, you press your hands against his chest, leaning lower until your mouth hovers over his. 

“Can you blame me?” You breathe against his lips. “Just look at you.”

He stiffens. Just barely, of course. Just enough that you can hardly even detect it, but you do. You do because you know him. And you know that when Sylus teases, it’s really just to deflect from his need to shift the attention to yours—like he doesn’t want you just as bad. Like he’s not just as hard as you are wet in his boxers. Like he doesn’t need to feel you just as badly as you need to feel him. 

But he likes to keep the upper hand. It starts with two hands on your hips, firmly squeezing them before slowly rocking them against his abs. Your bare cunt (courtesy of him destroying a perfectly good pair of panties) glides along the ridges and indents of his muscle. Very well-defined ridges and indents of muscle, too. You tense, letting out a shaky gasp as your clit rubs against his hard-planed physique. 

“If you like it so much, why stop at just a look?” He chuckles, “You’re more than welcome to feel, too, sweetheart.”

He’s so sickeningly proud of himself, you can’t help but think bitterly as soon as your hips start grinding against him of their own accord. He’s so pleased and amused and deeply content with the sight of you falling apart over him. His eyes are hungry, and they don’t stray away from you for a single second. They don’t miss a single twist in your expression, nor do they have the decency not to stare shamelessly at the image of where your pussy meets his midsection, where your slick pools and coats his skin and makes it glisten as you make a mess on him. 

He hums, large hands leaving your waist buried in their frames as they guide you at a slow, steady pace. “Bet that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grins—and oh, he’s aggravatingly happy as he laughs breathlessly, “You look like you’re about to fall apart. Don’t worry, I’m right here. You can’t fall far.”

You would say something smart if you could. Maybe even reach back and palm over his crotch that’s rudely tight against his boxers. But you can’t. Not when your clit rubs against his warm, heated skin and leaves jolts along your spine. All you can manage is a pathetic, “S-Sylus, please—”

“Oh? Please what? Please more?” He coos.

Something of a dull ache builds into this deep, throbbing need to feel your walls hug around something. To constrict around and latch onto something warm and big and full—something like him. Something like the way he fucks you into the mattress and makes you feel like he’s so deep in you, you can feel him in your throat. 

That’s what you want—but of course, you’re naive if you think that’s what he’ll give. For now, at least. For now, he’ll tease, and tease, and tease until he can watch you crumble just the way he wants to witness. And you’re close to that, too—you know it, and so does he. He can tell by the way your wetness drips onto him in a messy pool, making your cunt drag against him easier, smoother. He can tell because he can all but feel the quiver of your walls clenching around nothing, empty and desperate for some sort of building friction. And he can especially tell because of your face—that devastating look on your face when you’re so close to the edge you can just practically cling to it with the tips of your fingers as it dangles teasingly in front of you. 

“More,” you plead, “Want you. Want to feel you.”

“Oh, but you’re almost there,” he says in faux sympathy, soothing you with a sleepy, smug little grin. “Surely, you can take it just like this, can’t you? You’re better than that—I know you are.”

His words take you to the edge. You plummet off of it, in fact, practically collapsing against his chest as he holds you upright with a firm, strong grip and guides you through your orgasm. You gush around nothing, making a wet, sticky mess on his skin as you cum against him, grinding your clit as much as you can along every indent along his hard, built muscle. 

“Sylus,” you whimper, “oh—f-fuck.” Your body quivers for a few more moments before you slump against him, burying your nose into his neck. “You’re despicable,” you bite the skin lightly.

He laughs. It’s low from the sleep that’s still clinging to his voice but boyish enough that your heart skips a beat. “Am I? You seemed to enjoy it.”

You shuffle to curl into him more, but your leg brushes against the bulge in his underwear—a small, barely-there sound pulls from his throat. Something caught between a gasp and a moan that makes you pause before you grin against the crook of his neck.

“Guess I should pay you back, hm?” 

He watches, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded as you pull away and kiss from his collarbone to his pecs. A rise of goosebumps litters his skin, too—just like they did on your skin earlier. You silently revel in that victory, making your way lower, lower, lower. But it’s painfully, obnoxiously, ridiculously slow. 

“Don’t be a tease, sweetie,” he hisses, grunting as you kiss down his torso, the well-defined muscle of his abs flexing under every touch of your lips. 

“Who, me?” You blink, batting your lashes sweetly, “Oh, I’d never, baby.”

Your lips graze over the skin that’s still marked with your essence as you kiss and suck along his torso, a trail of marks left in your wake and declaring him yours. You can taste yourself from just a few moments ago—the moments when you rocked your hips into him and fell apart, when he held you through it with a sleepy smirk. The image of his smug face makes you glance up at him with a flustered look, and almost as if he already knows, his gaze is on you. Waiting. Smug here in person just as much as he was in your memories.

“What a naughty thing,” he drawls, teasing glint in his eyes. “Did you get a taste of yourself? I’m sure now you have an idea of why I find it so…addictive, don’t you?”

He’s filthy. Cocky, too. And more often than not, he’s absurdly prepared with smart comments. Just to even the playing field a little, you decide he could use a little relentless teasing of his own. 

“Oh, I can think of a thing or two just as addictive,” you smile innocently—and just like that, you lean in to kiss against a pale, blue line across his porcelain skin, pulling away to admire the veins that mark his body. Something in you aches for him all over again—something that you don’t like to admit happens from just the sight of something like his veins. But you pay careful attention to them anyway, leaning down and pressing soft, feather-like kisses against his lower belly, feeling him stiffen tightly underneath you as his breath gets labored and slightly erratic.

He’s impatient. You glance down at him, cock hard and strained against his boxers, the beginnings of a wet patch dampening the skin from pre cum dribbling from his tip. You almost feel bad. 

Almost. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of your games?” He grits, involuntarily twitching his hips to chase some friction. 

“I could ask you the same question,” you snort. 

“Yet, it seems I’m always the one spoiling you,” he retorts. 

There’s some bit of merit to that, you suppose. So you give in, humming as you kiss along his v-line, one finger looping under his waistband while giving a small tug downwards. He lifts his hips instantly, letting you pull off the offensive piece of clothing that separates him from your touch. 

It’s flushed, his cock. Swollen, flushed with a pretty rosy shade at the tip, and glistening with leaking pre cum. You lean and give the thick vein along the underside a series of kisses tracing upwards before pressing a delicate one to his tip. He groans, and his cock twitches at the contact, his eyes fluttering closed as he bites his lip. 

“Pretty,” you observe, smiling softly at the sight of him. 

He scoffs, lips almost a pout as they curl into a frown. “Then do something about it,” he insists. 

You think you’ve sufficiently teased him enough, so you do—you take him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, as your tongue and the wet heat of your mouth envelop him and make him tense for a moment before his body goes slack. A deep, throaty groan rings through the room, the sound making something do a flip in your lower belly. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, breathing heavily. “You…you’re so good at this.”

The praise does something to you that you’re not proud of. Some flash of an ache deep in your core that you don’t want to focus on, so you pay closer attention to him instead. Your tongue swirls over his tip as your head bobs up, tracing down that pretty vein of his as you take him down your throat once more. What you can’t fit in your mouth—because there is enough of him that you can’t fit in your mouth—you pump with your fist, wrapped around the base of his shaft. 

Sylus has a lot of veins. You admire them long enough to know them all by heart. The ones along his hands that you love to trace when you hold them in yours. The ones along his arm that you love to eye when he’s working out. The ones along his abdomen that you trace every once in a while with the tip of your finger when you have him to yourself in private. And the long, pretty one along this inner thigh—the one you see only when you’re like this: between his spread-out legs with your mouth around his cock. 

Your free hand moves to lay over this thigh, gently rubbing into the skin as if to anchor him as he throws his head back and groans. Your eyes are trained on him, staring up at the twists of pleasure in his expression and the crinkles in his eyes as he closes them tightly and moans. But you don’t have to look at your hand to know your thumb is tracing along that vein. You know it better than you know yourself, you think—his body is so easy to memorize. So easy to get to know and keep ingrained in your brain forever. 

His thigh flexes under your touch, and you hum around him, the vibrations around his length making his breath hitch as he curses under his breath. 

You pull away with nothing but a string of saliva connecting you to him, his eyes glancing down at you sharply for the interruption. But you smile, equal parts soft and equal parts smug. Gently, you press a wet kiss to his thigh, right over the same pale blue line you traced just moments ago, as you murmur, “You’re so pretty. You know that?”

“I’m flattered,” he says tightly, warily staring down at you with hungry, desperate eyes. “I’m sure you can save the flattery for later, though, can’t you?”

“But what if you think I’m just using you for your body?” You gasp dramatically, “Can’t have that, you know. I have to appreciate you more.”

“Teasing can easily be reciprocated, you know, sweetheart,” he grits, “Or have you forgotten that so quickly?”

“Oh, I’m aware. I’ll take my chances.” Your lips trail up his thigh until it reaches the base of his cock. You press another kiss against it, murmuring a quiet, “I love you.”

His cock twitches—it’s like it responds to every soft word of affection and every littlest bit of praise. For all the denying and for all the impatience, too, Sylus loves the attention. Thrives under it, even—it does something to his ego that you know you probably shouldn’t help stroke, but you can’t help it. 

You press one more kiss to his swollen tip before murmuring, “Mine,” and then you take him down your throat once more—faster this time. Your head bobs up and down his length, lips wrapped around him as you swallow every now and then. 

His hand flies to his hair, tugging at the soft, silvery strands as he groans deeply, hips pushing up to meet your pace and thrust deeper into your mouth. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he hisses, “Just like that, sweetheart—shit.”

He spills down your throat not too long after. Warm, sticky ropes of cum that paint your mouth with every twitch of his cock, filling you enough that some spills from the corner of your mouth, dripping along your face and collecting at your chin. You swallow what you can, working him through his orgasm, listening to the sweet, lust-hazed sounds he makes as pleasure burns through every nerve of his body. 

He slumps back when he’s finished, panting with an arm over his eyes while you wipe your chin and swallow before climbing up his body and slumping on top of him. He wraps an arm around your waist instantly, humming lowly as his large, warm hand rubs into your lower back. 

“Had your fun?” He raises a brow. 

You grin cheekily, kissing his jaw as you murmur, “I think you had more fun than me, but what do I know?”

He chuckles. It’s low, and the sound vibrates through his chest so that you can feel it under you. There’s a small bead of sweat along his temple, and his face is flushed a soft shade of scarlet that you admire—it brings out the deep crimson of his eyes even more from here. 

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper. 

“How many times will you remind me of that?” He asks, bringing a hand to your chin, tilting your face up, and inspecting you carefully. “You’re making me feel bad. I haven’t reminded you how stunning you are nearly enough times.”

“You could always start now,” you wink, “It’s never too late.” He laughs again. Deep, genuine, soft. Sylus is a lot of things. You think your favorite is in love. 

“Do I really have to remind you?” He whispers, voice husky as he slowly shifts your body to lay under his, flipping you over as he hovers over you. “You don’t already know how beautiful you are—how you drive me insane?”

“A reminder wouldn’t hurt,” you blink innocently. “What if you’re secretly getting tired of me?”

His eyes flash with something dangerous at that. You only meant it as a joke, of course—he loves deeply. So deeply, you don’t think you’d escape him even if you wanted to. (Not that you do, of course. You’re quite happy knowing your place is beside him.) You know he’s never tired of you—quite the opposite, in fact. 

But you like teasing him. Getting under his skin enough that his hand moves to your throat and wraps around it firmly—not quite tight enough to block your air flow, but enough to serve as a light warning. 

“You think I would get tired of you?” He challenges. Offended. In disbelief. “Tired of this?”

Just like that, the familiar sound of fabric tearing rings through your ears again. It’s a sound you seem to be getting more and more used to the longer you date Sylus. And yet, every time, it pulls the same sound of disbelief from your throat as you gasp at his audacity. But before you can speak, before you can scold him for ripping your (his) favorite shirt straight off of your body, his hands curve around your tits, molding against them perfectly as if they were made to cup them. His thumbs roll over your nipples, humming in approval as you whine softly at the feeling. 

“Sylus,” you pant. (Regretfully, you think that’s the only collection of syllables you can manage anymore on this fine morning.) “W-wait—”

“Wait?” He pretends to gasp in shock, “But we’re just getting started. I was just about to show you all my favorite parts of you—they never get old. Would you like to see?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he leans down, latching his lips around one pebbled nipple, sucking and nipping lightly at it as his thumb rolls over and pinches the other one. Your back arches into his touch, a soft moan spilling from your lips as he grins against your chest. 

“Here’s a favorite, for starters,” he murmurs. “And here—” he kisses along your belly and makes his way to your hip bone, biting lightly at the flesh and making your breath hitch, “—this is certainly a memorable place too, isn’t it? Can’t keep my hands off of it.”

Finally, his hands slowly pull your legs apart, exposing the wet, dripping mess that is your cunt, folds puffy and waiting for him. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your clit, smiling at the small whimper you let out from the sensitive touch before he says through a low, breathy whisper, “This, however…this has to be my favorite part of all.”

“Okay,” you whine, pulling at his arms with a plea, “I get it, okay? I need it, please.”

“Well then,” he huffs out a soft laugh, “Who am I to deny?”

He’s level with you before you can blink—mouth on yours with a heavy, heated kiss that sends your brain into a fogged state as you kiss back. All you can register is soft flesh, pressure against your mouth, the taste of his tongue on yours, and hot and heavy breath seeping into your lungs while he inhales yours. It’s slow, the way he kisses you—but still undeniably needy. He chases after your mouth as soon as you pull away to breathe, a soft gasp pushing past his throat at the loss of contact. As if it might kill him. As if he might die without your breath down his throat, keeping him alive. 

“Do you want it, sweetheart?” He breathes erratically, “Because I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

“I want it,” you practically beg, “I want you.”

He’s hard again—stiff between his legs and throbbing at your words enough that his cock does a little jerk on its own, like it’s responding to you itself. He drags it along your entrance, rolling slow circles against your folds and coating his tip in your slick, earning a sharp inhale from you as he groans at the teasing friction against the head of his cock.

“I always want you,” he breathes. 

He pushes past your folds as he speaks the words against your mouth, letting you swallow up the low moan he lets out as your walls wrap around him little by little. It’s painstakingly slow. Inch after inch after inch until the blunt head of his length presses deep into you, nudging against a soft, sensitive spot in your walls that makes your whole body react with a quiver. He curves into you perfectly, thick and deep and so, so full. 

“Ready?” He smiles tenderly, gripping the fat of your thighs and hooking them around his waist, leaning to kiss one of your knees as you melt into the mattress and nod. 

“Please,” you whine, “Need it—need you.”

There’s a sharp thrust of his hips at that—he pulls out until he’s almost completely left your warm cunt before slamming back in past your folds, pressing mercilessly against your sensitive spot. It’s partly because he has your body memorized but mainly because his body is practically made to mold into you. It’s like he fits you perfectly, curves into the shape of your body like the shape of his was hand-made to pair with yours. 

When Sylus fucks you is when you see past his exterior the most. When his eyes hold the most emotion, staring at you like he can’t believe you’re his. When his hands shake for once because he doesn’t know if he deserves the weight of you in his hold. When his breath is the most labored and uncontrolled because you steal every breath from his lungs, and selflessly, he gives up air for you. When sweat coats his skin and makes his hair cling to his forehead because when he loves you is when his body is most responsive, most affected. 

When Sylus fucks you is when you love yourself most. Because how could you not when he pays such close attention to you? Thumb finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles just the way he knows drives you crazy, watching your face closely for every reaction? How could you not when close is not nearly close enough, when he presses his chest against yours and buries his face into your neck to all but melt under your skin? It makes you feel desirable. Beautiful. Lovable. 

So easy to want.

So easy to lose control to.

So easy to need. 

“You feel that, don’t you?” He mumbles, panting harshly as he grunts when you squeeze around him at the sound of his labored voice. “Feel me? How badly I need you? How crazy you drive me? Feel how hard I am for you? Don’t tell me you think I’d ever get tired of that.”

“I know,” you whine, “I know, I know, baby—I promise.”

You let out a small squeal when he angles your leg higher, thrusting deeper into your cunt, pressing harshly where you need him most with his tip in a dizzyingly punishing pace and a harshly rough deepness that makes your vision blur. Almost go blank, even.

“Tell me you love me,” he demands.

“I love you!”

“Tell me you need me,” he adds, so selfish and needy for your approval. To know you’re nothing without him like he’s nothing without you. 

“N-need…fuck, I need you,” you stumble over your words as your orgasm comes closer and closer, creeping up on you enough that you can’t catch your breath fast enough to keep up with him.

“Tell me you’re mine.” This time, it comes out as almost a plea.

“Yours,” you sob, body on the precipice of breaking all over again, “Yours, yours, yours.”

You cum as soon as you say it. Harder than maybe ever—it’s like being reminded that you’re his makes your body react tenfold. You fall apart with a shrill cry of his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss as your nails press indents into his skin. 

He groans in pleasure at the slight pain, melting against your lips, an open-mouthed, wet kiss working him up to his own orgasm. His first one was a slow build-up—but this one happens quickly, coming out of nowhere and hitting him full force, his hips stuttering for a moment and losing rhythm as he sloppily thrusts into you. 

Yours. Yours. Yours. 

Your voice rings in his ears, aiding him through his pleasure as he fucks his thick, sticky release deep into your folds, sharp thrusts that match the harsh twitching of his cock. 

“Ngh,” he grunts, “Sh-shit, sweetheart.”

Finally, when you’re both done, breaths frenzied and harsh as you try to make up for the lost air in your lungs, he slumps over your body and hides his face into the crook of your neck, practically purring as your shaky hand buries into his sweaty locks and strokes the soft, silvery strands. 

It’s quiet, just the sound of your breathing eventually shifting from heavy to slowed as you finally catch it, the quivering of your body dissipating, too. Your fingers journey their way from his scalp to the back of his neck, lightly making a feather-soft trail along his bare back as he shivers from the touch.

“Don’t fall asleep after I showed you a good time,” you pout, “It’s rude.”

“You were the one that woke me for a good time,” he mumbles, amused. “That’s equally as rude.”

“I did not,” you huff, “You were the one who escalated it. I just wanted a peaceful morning.”

“I don’t know,” he grins against your skin, pressing a chaste, warm peck where it's closest to his lips, “I’m feeling pretty at peace, wouldn’t you agree?”

so uh..........basically i got the card where u measured him for clothes and i saw a vein in his abs and lost my mind. so. here is the product of that. i REFUSE to be told this is not a completely totally normal reaction. thank you!

[terrestrialnoob]

"Hey, Bats, can I have a word?" John asked as everyone started filling out of the meeting room.

Batman gave him the side eye. "You don't usually come to meetings."

John raised his hands in surrender. "Caught me, I'm really here to ask you a favor."

Batman looked over by the door, where it looked like Superman, Wonder Woman, and the Flash were there waiting for him. But, he turned back to John and asked "What do you want?"

John tried not to cringe at the tone in his voice, telling himself that's just what a tired after meeting Batman sounded like. "I need help with a puzzle box."

John pulled said box out of his coat pocket and held it up for Batman to take, but the man examined it closely without touching it. "What's in it?"

"A world-ending weapon, probably. There's like, a 10% chance it's a world-ending monster." John helpfully provided.

"And you want to open it..."

"Yeah..." John sighed then explained, "It's part of a pair, with this-" John pulled a gear shaped dial puzzle out of his pocket. "But, since I solved this one, that one wont work for me."

"Why do you want to open it?"

"Because, whoever solves the puzzles control it."

"But you've been magically locked out of solving this one." Batman pointed at the box still in John's hand.

"Yeah, so I need someone good at solving puzzles -you- and who's dabbled enough in magic to effect the box -you again- and who I trust not to use whatever's in it to destroy the world."

Batman gave him the patented bat-interrogation glare. "You still haven't explained why you want to release this weapon."

"It's a fail safe. Like the two keys thing governments put in front of their nuclear bombs. According to the texts I read, this isn't the only way to release the whatever-it-is, but once we solve both these puzzles, you and I will have control of it and absolutely no one else can get it." John wiggled the box at Batman. "We do this now, we don't have to pray I can track down all the alternate methods, and neither of us can use it without the other's permission."

Batman closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You're certain this is the best method to ensure the safety of as many people as possible?"

"Yep."

"And you're certain I'm the right person you want as the other half of your fail safe? Not another magic user?"

"I feel the degree of separation will be useful in determining what situations call for using a world-ending weapon."

Batman let another deep sigh and took the puzzle box.

"You two staying late?" Superman asked as John and Batman sat back down at the table. Him, Wonder Woman, and the Flash came over to check on them.

"Sorry, we can get dinner together another time." Batman said without taking his eyes off the box. Each side had nine squares, each with a rune on them that glowed when pressed. There was a pattern, John was sure, but after he'd solved the dial puzzle, the runes where blurred and the squares didn't light up when he pressed them.

"How long do you think your puzzle thing will take?" Flash asked, looking over Batman's shoulder as he seemed to solve the puzzle quickly. Or so John hoped, again, he couldn't actually see what kind of progress Bats was having.

"Ten minutes, tops." Nightwing interrupted. Batman did glance at him, but then went right back to work on the box. "We still have plenty of time to go to Bobby's before closing."

"I thought you had better things to do?" Superman asked.

"And pass up on burgers with you? Never." Nightwing said with a wink. "Is John joining us when this is done?"

"I'll have to take whatever comes out of the box back to the house of Mystery." John said, though burgers did sound good at the moment.

Silence lapsed into the room as they watched Batman work. And ten minutes later, it was done. The puzzle box glowed and one of it's faces folded into itself, leaving a hole shaped just like the gear puzzle. Batman held it out and John dropped the gear into it. The room filled with a bright flash, and once it faded, sitting on the conference table between John and Batman was a toddler. He had black hair and bright blue eyes and freckles scattered across his face. He reached out a little hand towards them and started babbling.

"Fuck."

[lvl1l1]

Heyy!! Can i please request LADS guys' reaction when you try to pay 50/50 on a date ^_^

LaDS men when you offer to split the bill

pairings: Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb x Reader(separate)

content: fluff, suggestiveness in zayne’s

a/n: oh to have a rich boyfriend. working through reqs rn sorry if they’re taking a while TT

Xavier

You and Xavier were out on your first date night in a while.

You’d both been busy with work, spending time together on missions and at home but you started missing going out with him.

Finishing up at your regular hotpot place, you and Xavier were just talking to now.

Before a waiter could come check in, you took your chance,

“Xavier, let’s do half-half.”

You saw the confusion pass on his face,

“Half-half? But we just finished eating, did you want to get dessert? We can do that.”

A laugh escaped you and his face lit up at the sound as well,

“No, I meant let’s pay half-half.”

The man sitting opposite of you furrowed his brows, still not understanding,

“Why? I can pay for us both.”

You shrugged,

“You always do. I feel bad.”

He quickly shut that down, shaking his head,

“Don’t. I like treating you. I want to pay, I’m your boyfriend.”

You smiled at his words, feeling lucky to have such a sweet partner,

“All right. But the offer’s on the table.”

His eyebrows were still drawn together,

“Well, that’s not necessary.”

Before you could say anything else, he got up, heading to the front of the restaurant to pay.

Zayne

Zayne had wrapped up a week of surgeries back to back.

To relax, you two went out to eat.

You were enjoying each other’s company, happy to finally spend some time together.

Once you two were done eating, you told him.

“Zayne, I want to pay half.”

At that, he frowns,

“Please, don’t. I invited you out.”

You cocked your head, looking at him with big eyes,

“You’ve been working so hard, you won’t let me treat you, so at least let me pay half!”

The frown stayed on his face,

“I appreciate everything you do for me but I’m more than happy to pay for you. I insist, actually.”

You flashed him a sweet smile but reached for your purse regardless.

Though, before you could even pull your wallet out, he called a waiter over and handed them his card.

You went to protest but he quickly reached for your hand, intertwining it with his.

“Darling, I’m grateful for your thoughtfulness, but considering how our quality time together is cut short sometimes due to my work, allow me to spend the money I make from my job on you.”

The sincerity reflected in his eyes makes your heart swell.

You nod, defeated, before a mischievous grin comes onto your face,

“Fine then, I’ll just repay you later tonight.”

The tips of his ears turned red and his eyes widened slightly but before he could respond, the waiter returned with his card.

Zayne could barely focus on anything for the rest of the night, you didn’t miss the shy looks he shot you throughout.

Rafayel

A new art exhibition of his work had been published, to celebrate, you two went out tonight.

Rafayel had it all planned out, a candlelight dinner, a lone table on the balcony, just the two of you.

He was having a great time, until you dared to utter the words,

“Let me pay half.”

He looked like you had personally insulted him.

“You’re asking your rich boyfriend who just had a new art exhibition, if you can pay for your own food?”

Letting out an awkward laugh clearly wasn’t the right course of action, as he started again,

“I love you. You know how much I love you. So, why would you ever ask me that. Was that supposed to be a joke? Because I don’t think it’s funny.”

You scratched your head, unsure of how to respond,

“I didn’t know you were so passionate about this…”

He put his hands on the table, leaning over,

“I’m passionate about providing for my lover.”

You felt surprisingly moved by your boyfriend’s, albeit strange, declaration of affection.

Rafayel sighed,

“I might’ve gotten a bit carried away there at the end but my point stands! Don’t even suggest something like that again. I want to give you nice experiences, that doesn’t include you having to worry about paying.”

You rested your chin on your hand, smiling at him softly,

“Thanks, Rafayel.”

He smiled back at you, his eyes glittering as he looked at you,

“One last thing, if I ever accept that, shoot me on that spot. It has to be a clone, can’t be me.”

He didn’t hide the satisfied look on his face as you laughed.

Sylus

You had been gushing about this new restaurant that had opened near your place.

Sylus had taken you there tonight and it lived up to all your expectations.

Seeing your content expression as you munched on your dessert, left him feeling fulfilled.

You two were engaged in a conversation, before you dropped the bomb on him,

“Sy, let’s split the bill.”

He immediately looked offended,

“Why would we?”

Spoon in mouth, you blinked at him,

“It was my idea to come here, it’s only right.”

His eyes narrowed slightly,

“I brought you here.”

You hummed, still not backing down,

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve been paying for everything lately…”

His look of disapproval almost made your lips curl up,

“As I should. Sweetie, what’s the point of having so much money, if not to spend it on you?”

You ate another bite, feeling charmed.

He smirked and you knew he was onto you,

“Also, while I do think it’s sweet you offered, if I’m not mistaken, you didn’t bring your wallet.”

You stilled, spoon midair, before looking up at him, bashful.

You fluttering your eyelashes at him, not answering.

His laugh that sounded like it could buy the whole building brought a cheeky grin to your face.

“You should really try this, it tastes great!”

“Very smooth, kitten.”

Caleb

Caleb finally took his vacation days and you two went on a trip to a nearby town.

It was your last day there and you decided to have a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant.

You were sitting across each other, Caleb was done eating before you, so you made him eat the rest of your food, that you couldn’t finish.

He was listening to you talk with a lovesick look on his face.

You kept yapping until he was almost done eating,

“Alrighty, let’s do 50/50.”

He stopped, eyes flickering up to your face, his smile dropping,

“What do you mean, pips?”

Giggling, you elaborated,

“Let’s split the bill 50/50!”

He squinted at you,

“No.”

You looked taken aback by his blunt response,

“Why not?”

He stacked the plates over one another, before his gaze met yours again,

“For one, I ate half your food. And even if I didn’t, I don’t want you to pay for anything when I’m with you.”

A chuckle left you as you leaned back in your seat,

“You paid for the whole vacation, Caleb. Let me take this one.”

That charming, boyish grin he flashed you caused you to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

He was so good at winning you over,

“I like taking care of you, honey. You’re not paying for anything.”

You sighed,

“You’re too good to me.”

He looked at you, like you had just said something outlandish.

“Yeah, let’s get you three servings of dessert for that. You deserve everything, pipsqueak.”

You whined his name, feeling shy.

He always looked at you like you had hung all the stars in the sky.

He’d be damned if he didn’t at least try to give you the whole world.

[charmedimsure]

WE'RE OKAY || kang dae-ho

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x f!reader summary: Things go wrong during the third game word count: 2.1k warnings: mingle game, character death, blood, squid game stuff A/N: this man is the only thing in my head rn. posted this before when tags weren't updating so reposting now. also this is only sorta proofread so if you see any mistakes no you didn't <3 **this is sorta a p2 to "a welcome distraction" but can be read as standalone**

We will go hand in hand

And have fun jumping around

Round and round

The platform stops turning suddenly, and you grab onto Dae-ho to stop yourself from falling over.

"Eleven"

You and Dae-ho lock eyes for a split second before you both start looking around for more players. Together you were six, meaning you needed four more.

Gi-hun turns to a player behind him. "How many are you?"

"Four," the woman replies.

"That makes us ten!" Jung-bae whimpers.

A man from another group comes running over. "Are you five? We need five!"

Before any of you can answer, another player yells back. "We have five people! Come with us!"

The two groups go running off towards a door.

"We have to hurry!" Gi-hun says.

"There's no time, Gi-hun!" Young-il tells him.

"We need one more!" the tall woman yells. She spots someone by herself near the center of the platform and grabs her. "We have eleven now!"

"To the green door over there! Hurry!" Young-il yells, already running off in the direction of the door.

Before you know what's happening, Dae-ho grabs you and pulls you along after him. You rush after him into the room, pushing yourself against the wall to make room for everyone else to get inside. You look up at the man next to you before turning your head towards the beeping sound coming from the back of the room. The clock runs out, and the lock clicks on the door.

You breathe out a sigh of relief that you made it in time, but jump and yelp when you hear the screams coming from outside the door, along with the gunshots. Looking towards the door, you watch Gi-hun's reactions as he watches the people outside. The sounds of gunshots are soon replaced with the sounds of the forklifts coming in with the coffins.

Your heart begins to race. If Dae-ho had not taken you back to his friends and added you to his team, you surely would be one of those bodies out there. You look up at Dae-ho to see him already looking down at you. He saved your life.

Dae-ho looks you over to make sure you're okay before you both look around at the others in the room with you. You smile a bit when you see the nice lady and her son with you, as well as players 120 and 095. You had watched them during the six-legged race and watching them cross the finish line had filled you with hope that you could do it too.

"You're alive thanks to me!" a voice yells from inside your room, making you and everyone else jump. You turn and see the creepy lady standing in the middle of the green room, looking you all over one by one. She speaks to Gi-hun, making everyone look at each other with a mix of fear and confusion. This lady doesn't seem to understand that it is not the time for this.

The eliminated players are announced and you are let out of the rooms. The floors are already covered in blood. Red is splattered all over the walls as a morbid reminder of what will happen to you if you lose.

Everyone steps onto the platform and it starts moving again as the music starts up. Looking around, you see that weird purple-haired guy and his friend dancing together. You don't know whether to smile that people can find happiness even in a moment like this, or to be horrified that they can dance in the blood of all those people.

The platform stops again and you are shot back into the game.

"Four"

Your team looks around at each other. Just as you're about to volunteer to find others, Young-il and Jung-bae separate, shouting about needing two more people.

The rest of you run towards an open room with a purple door, taking deep breaths. Gi-hun keeps the door open and looks outside to make sure that the others found another room in time. Right before time runs out, Dae-ho pulls Gi-hun into the room and closes the door, hearing the lock turn immediately after.

The room is tense with none of you knowing whether your friends made it in time. You look at Dae-ho, seeing the worry on his face, and gently take his hand. He looks towards you and squeezes your hand, not letting go even when the doors unlock and you are let out.

Dae-ho starts yelling for Young-il and Jung-bae before a voice calling Gi-hun's name grabs your attention. You look over with relief to see that both of them are alive.

Young-il turns to Jun-hee, asking her if she is alright.

"Wait a minute," Young-il says, "if the next number is seven, we won't need anyone else, will we?"

You all smile as you understand what he's saying, and Jun-hee holds her swelling stomach, a warm smile on her face.

The number for the next round is three, making it easy for your team to split up into two groups and get into rooms with time to spare. You nearly cry as the mother and son are reunited after the round ends, and Dae-ho pulls you towards him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and rubbing his hand up and down your arm.

Your team grows after that, quietly adding the old lady and her son and players 120 and 095.

The platform starts to spin again as the next round starts.

"I hate this fucking song," you mumble under your breath.

The platform stops as the voice announces the next group size.

"Seven"

"Two men and five women! Go!" Gi-hun yells to the team.

"Which two men?" Jung-bae asks.

"I'm going with my mom!" Yong-sik says, holding onto his mother tightly.

Dae-ho holds up your joined hands. "I'm coming." You're dragged in the direction of the group as you run along. Dae-ho opens an orange door, but stops seeing that it's full.

The old man from before pushes Dae-ho out of the doorway before shutting the door. You keep Dae-ho from falling and instead pull him in the direction of an open room that player 120 found. As you run, you can hear the voice counting down. You make it with just a few seconds to spare.

You sigh in relief, but freeze once you turn around. Instead of two men and five women, the room contains two men and four women. Player 120 is standing near the door, ready to run outside when a man pushes her into the room and closes the door just in time for them to lock.

The crying eyes of player 095 look through the slot in the door.

"Young-mi!" Player 120 screams, running towards the door and desperately trying to open it.

The girl outside continues crying until a gunshot is heard and she slides down the door.

Player 120 screams as the woman cries with her son over their lost friend. Dae-ho pulls you close to him as player 120 starts screaming at the man who came in. As sad as his is to see the girl die, he's relieved that it wasn't you out there looking at him through the slot.

The doors unlock and you walk out silently. The others smile when they find you, but immediately notice the missing girl and frown. Without a word, you all step up onto the platform once more as the voice announces that this will be the last round and the music starts up again.

"What do you think it'll be this time?" Jung-bae asks Gi-hun.

"Two," Young-il answers, getting our attention.

"Why?"

"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. So there won't be enough rooms for everyone, only 100."

You and Dae-ho look at each other. He tightens his grip on your hand, silently telling you that he will bring be with you. You nod at him and get ready to run.

"Two"

Everyone immediately starts running towards the doors in a mad sprint. You stay with Dae-ho, keeping your hands together so you don't get separated.

Dae-ho opens a red door, but you're pushed aside before you can get in with him. You look up as another man pushes inside the room and closes him and Dae-ho in.

Fear like you've never known before takes over your body. You're about to die. Dae-ho can be heard inside the room, screaming your name and trying to open the door, but the man keeps him from getting out. The voice starts to count down from ten. As you accept you're fate, a pair of hands grab you and drag you into a yellow room, throwing you in before throwing the lone person inside out and closing the door.

You gasp for air as you pull yourself off the floor, staying on your hands and knees as you try to get a grasp of what just happened. Someone had saved your life.

Turning to see who your savior is, your eyes grow wide when you read the '246' on his chest.

He kneels beside you, putting a hand on your shoulder. "Are you alright?"

You nod frantically. "Thanks to you."

The gunshots begin outside and you throw your arms around the man in front of you. You'd be one of them if it weren't for him.

"Thank you," you cry into his shoulder as he hugs you back.

"There was enough time. I watched you get pushed and I just had to do something," he says.

You want to say thank him a million times, but words won't come out as you just stay in each others arms.

Two rooms over, Dae-ho's knuckles are stained red with blood as he punches the door over and over. There's no way that you made it in time, he knows that. He turns and screams at the other player in his room for pushing you, attempting to hit him before his cries take over and he falls into the corner of the room, sobbing into his sleeve.

The doors are eventually unlocked and everyone makes their way out. Dae-ho walks out slowly, looking at the floor and feeling empty. He couldn't save you.

The others run over to him, but they all frown and let out a few gasps when they see that the other person coming out of his room isn't you.

Dae-ho finally looks up at his team, though they all look blurry from the tears in his eyes. He must look like a wreck, but he can't even bring himself to care about that.

Jung-bae walks up to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, and Dae-ho breaks down again, sobbing into the shoulder of his fellow ex-marine. The area around them is silent except for Dae-ho's cries. That is until door opens behind them and a small gasp is heard in front of him. Dae-ho looks up at the woman holding her son and sees her looking past him.

"Dae-ho."

Dae-ho freezes when he hears the voice. He slowly turns around, not wanting to get his hopes up and believe that it's you. But there you, alive and standing in front of him. You look at each other for a few seconds before Dae-ho rushes towards you, throwing his arms around you as you do the same.

The man breaks down again as he hugs you. "I thought you were dead. I'm so sorry."

You rub his back as he cries, quietly telling him that it's okay.

He pulls back and cups your face with his hands, making sure to look you over. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, Dae-ho, it wasn't your fault," you reassure him. "And I'm okay. Everything is alright."

He nods, though tears continue to fall down his cheeks. "How did you find a room?"

You smile and look behind you at the man walking towards your group. "This man here picked me up off the floor and saved me at the last moment."

Player 246 just smiles. Dae-ho pulls you back into a hug as he thanks the man over and over for saving your life.

The other players start filtering out of the room. You break away from Dae-ho and pull him along with you towards the door.

As you're walking, he throws an arm around you and pulls you against him, placing a desperate kiss on your forehead that makes you blush. "I can't believe you're alive," he whispers against your skin.

You smile at him and take his hand, squeezing it. "You said it yourself, we're going to get out of here. Together."

Dae-ho keeps you close to him as you walk, the others from your team patting you on the shoulder as they tell you they're happy you made it. Dae-ho keeps his eyes on you the whole time, determined to get the both of you out of here. Today.

~

Dae-ho tags: @gudfornuthin

[bitteriekitten]

say my (real) name.

synopsis — the l&ds boys gently crashing out because you didn't call them by their pet name <3

warnings — pet names (baby, love, honey, sweetheart, etc.), extreme doses of fluff

featuring — xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, & caleb (separate fics)

notes — the entire time i was writing this i was tempted to just bite my laptop and swing it around like a dog. can you tell that i've been single for too long?

"I'm home!" Xavier called out to you as he locked your front door upon entering your apartment, settling the bags full of food down onto your dining table. He had texted you that he was going to arrive at 5:30 PM, but got caught up in traffic on the way home, making him 15 minutes later than the time he gave.

"Xavier?" you called back, stepping out of your bathroom and patting your hands dry from washing them earlier. Xavier furrowed his eyebrows together, immediately concerned.

"Baby, please don't be mad at me," he said, voice wavering, "There was traffic and the elevator kept opening at random floors."

You stared at him with a confused look. "I'm... not mad at you...?"

"But you didn't call me baby..." Xavier muttered, dejected.

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you, "Oh, I'm sorry baby. I didn't mean to scare you." You giggled, approaching him with your arms open. Xavier immediately wrapped his arms around you and practically shoved his face into the crook of your shoulder.

"I'm not mad at you, okay baby? I just wanted to know if it was you." you reassured him, patting him on the head. Xavier's response was muffled against your skin, and you just nodded, pretending to understand your big baby.

As you finished cleaning up in the kitchen after dinner, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you spot Zayne hovering by the entryway, still in his doctor's coat looking distressed. You hadn't been expecting him back so early from his shift at Akso.

"Oh my god– you scared me." you jokingly reprimanded him, approaching him to greet him with a hug and a kiss. But puzzlingly, he stopped you, "Did I do something wrong?" he asked directly.

You blinked in surprise, "What? No!"

"I'm not sure what I did, my love, but I'm really sorry." Zayne said, holding your hands in his and bringing it to his lips, kissing each of your knuckles gently, "I don't want to upset you, and I want us to talk this out properly so we can go to bed tonight without any problems."

"I– Zayne, what's going on? Why would I be upset with you?" you asked, laughing at his worried state, unsure if he was being serious or not.

"You..." Zayne sighed heavily, his hand coming up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You called me by my name in your text. And just now, too. I thought I did something to make you mad."

You wracked your brain for the last text you sent him. You vaguely remembered telling him that you might not be able to text him back if he needed to check up on you because you were planning to sleep early. You looked up at your boyfriend with a fond smile, holding his face with both your hands.

"Love, I'm not upset with you." you reassured him, your thumbs gently caressing his cheeks, "I was just in a rush earlier, okay? I'm so sorry that I made you worry."

With a sigh of relief, Zayne kissed each of your palms and smiled. "Thank you for telling me, my love." he said sincerely.

"Of course." you replied and pulled him down for a kiss on the lips. "Now get out of your work clothes, I'll reheat some leftovers for you."

You walked into your boyfriend's studio armed with comfort food, expecting to find Rafayel working on the big painting he was complaining to you about. But all that was left in the studio was a big canvas and some of his art supplies sprawled about on the floor.

He had called you earlier to invite you over at his place because he said he was 'one paint stroke away from burning out'. Ever so concerned for your boyfriend, you immediately went to order from his favorite places and order a taxi to his place.

"Rafayel? I'm here! I brought some food for us." you called out. You placed the bag of takeout onto his coffee table.

"Excuse me? Rafayel?"

Just then, rapid footsteps emerged from somewhere in the studio. In came Rafayel, his shirt unbuttoned and his expression distraught. "What are you calling me that for, cutie?!" he gasped, pulling you into his arms to keep you from walking away.

"I–" you cut yourself off with an incredulous laugh, "Is it not your name?"

"To the rest of the world, I am Rafayel. The greatest painter of the world, the nephew of a prodigal opera singer, yada-yada," Rafayel said, his tone completely serious, "But to you, my cutie, I am your baby. And you should address me as such!"

You laughed once more as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him and giggling against his plush lips. Pulling away, you rested your forehead against his and smiled fondly up at your dramatic lover. "Okay baby, I won't forget that next time."

"You better not! Or else." Rafayel threatened playfully, then smiled back at you. He gave you one more kiss before letting you go to make way for the food you brought.

You stood in front of your mirror with the dress that Sylus bought for you, unsure of how the color looked on you. It was yet another red dress, long-sleeved and backless, but it had more of a purple undertone compared to the ones he previously gave you.

"Sylus? Can you come in here for a second please?" you called to your boyfriend absentmindedly, tilting your head to get a better angle at your dress.

Sylus walked into the bedroom with his arms crossed and an irritated face. "Yes, honey?"

"Does this look okay?" you asked, not looking back at him. "I love the dress, don't get me wrong – but I don't know about the color..."

"I can get you a new one in the color you want, honey." he replied.

"Mmm, but I want your honest opinion on this dress first."

"I think it looks ravishing on you, honey. Anything looks good on you."

"Okay, why are you saying it like that?" you asked him with a giggle, which only irritated Sylus even further.

"Saying what like what, honey?"

"That, the honey!" You laughed, finally noticing how upset your boyfriend actually looked. "Did I say something wrong?"

Sylus narrowed his eyes at you for a moment before he sighed. "I thought that... you were messing with me." he admitted softly, "I've grown accustomed to you calling me by honey instead of my name."

Your mouth formed an O in realization, then you threw your head back with a laugh, "Oh honey, please don't be sulky. I didn't mean to mess with you." you cooed, walking closer to him, pulling him into you for a hug with your head resting on his chest.

Sylus held your head in his large hand and gave your hair a kiss. "Oh, it's quite alright, Y/N." he replied, feeling his smirk against your strands.

You lifted your head from his chest with a pout. Sylus just chuckled and turned you back to the mirror to focus back on your dress.

You could barely call it a miracle Caleb could work from home for a few days. Despite not having to stay at the Farspace Fleet's sterile buildings, Caleb was still swamped with paper work. He stayed most of the time at the dining table, folders and papers piling up on the surface like mountains.

But you didn't mind – at least he was far away from the fleet for now. So you made it a mission to make him more comfortable at his home in Skyhaven, doing his chores for him while he made his rounds on the paper work.

You sat in the living room, scrolling through your phone when you came across an ad for a new chicken place that was nearby Caleb's house. Your stomach grumbled like clockwork, and you glanced at the time – it was almost dinnertime.

"Caleb, do you want anything specific for dinner tonight?" you called, "Or should I just order–"

"What're you calling me Caleb for?!" Caleb cut you off loudly from the dining table. You turned to look at him and flinched when you saw him already standing directly behind you on the sofa. His eyes wide and pleading, he pouted at you.

"I–" you scoffed, laughing at how he genuinely looked upset. "But that's your name, isn't it, sweetheart?"

"No." Like a disobedient puppy, Caleb crossed his arms, his pout somehow becoming more prominent. "I am your sweetheart or baby or honey or darling or whatever you feel like calling me – you lost your privileges of calling me by my first name the moment you became my partner." he declared.

You giggled uncontrollably as you walked around the sofa to hug him. Caleb hummed as he hugged you back, his secure arms tight around your body. "Okay, sweetheart, I'm sorry." you cooed, giving his chest a kiss, "So do you want me to order take-out for us, baby? It's almost dinner time, my baby should take a break from work at least."

Caleb brightened up instantly at the flurry of pet names and nodded.

[madamechrissy]

Would you come with me?

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x F! reader

Summary: You have been Satoru's best friend for such a long time, and one day he asks you a really big favor- marry him. What!?!? Well, Satoru has to take a wife as he's running the Gojo corporation, and what better way to get them off his back than 'marry'? In name only, just best friends living together for a year to calm them down, sounds so perfect and uncomplicated, right!!! Well, living with Satoru Gojo makes you both question everything, is this fake marriage feeling... real? and can you just be friends after this?

CW: NSFT-MDNI- So much mutual pining and longing, not sharing feelings. This chap- kissing, fingering, masturbation, lots of jealousyy, they're idiots in love lol, teasing, TENSION, oral (f recieving) Satoru is a lil sweetie and a lil freaky ass- falls hard, ya'll both down bad. Three parts- WC this Part- 7.6k

Songs for this - Birds of a Feather // Nonsense // Suffocate

Ty for all the love on part one!?!? I hope you all enjoy this part as well! We got one more after this <3 Comments and reblogs so appreciated always!

<<<Part One - Masterlist - Final Part>>>

Part Two

One month of being ‘fake married’ to Satoru Gojo, your best friend.

“I’m nervous about this meeting, Satoru. Are you sure I’ll do alright?” You ask softly, as you both head to the elevator, a meeting that you know Satoru has been dreading himself, with the higher ups his dad usually deals with.

“You’ll do just fine, let me do the talking, you can just look all pretty.” He takes your hand as you all get into the elevator, squeezing it warmly, and you’re dying at how good that hand feels, and how good he feels, his strong arm brushing against you as you both watch the elevator doors shut.

“I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“You could never. You’ve been a perfect wife this month, I promise.” His sweet grin, just a little crooked melts you, as you exhale in relief. “I’m getting a lot done with this, I swear… I know you probably wanna get back to normal life.”

The hurt in his words immediately makes you pull back, and Satoru curses himself, taking your hand again, as you two ride up the floors, but you pull away, shaking your head. “Are you so eager for me to go?” Your voice is quiet, trying not to reveal what that makes you feel like fully.

“What!? No, not at all. I meant… if you wanted to.” Satoru’s heart breaks when he sees your dewy eyes. “I didn’t mean it that way, I meant it may not take a year, if you wanted to…”

“I’m glad it’s helping, really.” You give him a small little smile, and Satoru can barely concentrate on what he’s here for, when he wants to wrap you in his arms, to kiss you fully, not just pecks for appearances.

And god those kisses to prove you’re together make the lines blur, makes everything so confusing and jumbled for him. He’s having so much trouble remembering that it’s for show, when you all watch movies at night still, when you both have dinner together, when you’re washing dishes side by side. When you’re having coffee on his balcony in the morning.

The one thing that keeps it ‘fake’ is the separate rooms, but the amount of times Satoru has played with himself in the room next to yours has gotten insane, the number of showers he has to take so he hopes you won’t hear him. Lately, he’s backed off just a bit, for his own sanity, so it hurts less when this is over.

“Toru, wanna watch the show tonight?” You ask, wearing one of his big tee shirts, it swamps you completely, tempting him to no end, thinking of slipping it up just so…

Shit.

“Nah, sorry not tonight. I’ve got work to do.” He says, hating the little down turn of your lips.

“How late, I can wait!”

“Um… yeah I wouldn’t wait up.” You blink then, wondering have you gotten too comfortable with him? Have you been acting too much like a wife at home? You can’t help but enjoy him, enjoy your time together, are you overwhelming him with it all?

“Oh. Um, okay. Good night, then.” You smile sadly, aching to kiss him good night, knowing you shouldn’t want it, knowing you shouldn’t be desiring him right next to you, snuggling on that couch. God you’d love him in your bed even, holding you so close against him.

“Good night, sweets.” He murmurs, softly, not wanting you to think that you were the problem, no the problem is him.

He can’t stop picturing how every corner and nook in his huge home will be so very empty when you’re gone.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, not one thing, I swear you’re playing this perfectly. And I really appreciate you, yeah?” He says, but it’s not what you want to hear, because you’re not playing, not really, it’s just too fucking easy.

“Yeah, we got this.” You kiss his cheek softly, the friendly way you used to, as you all walk through the sliding doors where everyone is, all old men aside from a couple younger people scattered in seats in a row.

You tense, so he squeezes your hand, smiling at you, an upturn to pink lips as a room full of old money assesses you both, trying to reassure you. “Mr. and Mrs. Gojo, please have a seat.”

You nervously sit next to Satoru across from them now, your legs crossing as he casually leans back, one arm around the back of your seat, an ankle crossed over his knee, sunglasses right on his face. He’s so at ease, or so it seems, you are certainly learning more and more that Satoru tends to hide much of his anxiety with cracking jokes and sarcasm.

“Ah, the oldies, how goes it?”

“Ahem, oldies?” A blonde man raises a brow, and Satoru scoffs.

“You might as well be, Zenin. Old ass mentality.”

“Satoru, how is your father?” Asks an older man from another high company that works with the Gojos, Mr. Gakuganji.

“Ya really hoping he pulls through hmm? Even if so, he’s already appointed me, so don’t get too excited.” Satoru has an easy grin, fingertips brushing against your bare arm, leaning closer to you. “You’ve all met the wife?”

“Not all of us.” A pretty woman with long blue braids smiles at you. “Heard of her though, hello Mrs. Gojo. Mei Mei. Apparently so old.”

“Hello Mei Mei.” You greet with a small smile, looking at them all. “It’s going to be a pleasure to work with you all, I am sure.”

“Isn’t she just charming?” Mr. Naoya Zenin says, you feel Gojo’s fingers tighten in response.

“She is lovely.” Mei agrees, predatory smiles on both of their lips.

“Enough with the greetings, Gojo, you've made a lot of changes to this company in a quick manner.” Now Yaga, a tall imposing man that owns much of the shares of the company, speaks.

“Sure have, Yaga. Aw, mad you all got pay cuts? Poor things. Don’t worry, gave your extra to the employees.” Gojo says with a big white grin, earning the glares of everyone in the room.

“You’re not some Robin Hood.” An older man of the Kamo family says, raising a brow at Gojo, who chuckles.

“No, sure am not, I’m still rich and so are you all, just a little more evened out, wouldn’t you say, sweetheart?” He looks to you, tilting down his glasses, and you take a breath, putting a hand on his thigh, silently supporting him.

“Employees are going to work harder and stay longer with better pay and better conditions, and cutting just a bit off the top accomplishes that.” You say, voice strong and clear as a bell, making Satoru so proud he can’t stand it, smiling big at you as the room collectively grumbles.

“You’re not the only one with interest in this company. What does your father think of this?” One of the older men asks.

“It’s my company already, it’s about to be official soon. So don’t worry.” Satoru says with ease. “Also, my wife was talking.”

“Your wife is certainly… hmm, very pretty, but a commoner.” Naoya says, earning Gojo standing up, chair screeching back.

“The fuck you say!?”

“Satoru…” You lean forward, touching his arm, looking at his furious stance as the room shifts.

“How is she a commoner? You’d be lucky to lick the ground she fucking walks on ya know that?”

“She’s clearly not a commoner, but… she’s not “rich" is what he means. She has no concept of wealth.” Mei says, and Naoya stands now as well, glaring right over at Satoru.

 “She’s rich now, she’s my fucking wife.” The words feel so real from his infuriated voice that you can’t even separate it anymore, if this is some act you will just play right into it, even if it hurts. Him defending you is raw, you feel his fury next to him, trying to calm him and failing.

“It’s fine, baby.” You murmur, and hearing it, this little pet name from you? He immediately looks down, seeing your eyes wide with worry, he sighs now, sitting next to you, exhaling when you brush a hand up and down his back, then you look at the room. “I was not rich, no.”

“Your family was cut off for this sort of behavior. Is that what you want again, want for your children?” Mr. Gakuganji asks, a tired voice breaking through.

“I know better than anyone in this room what it’s like to live on a normal, even low income. Would you not welcome the insight, or are you so above caring about the people who line your pockets?” You demand softly, raising a brow, Satoru watches now as you proceed to wreck them.

He watches you debate them, raising each of them this point and that, and watches them all falter under a pretty little thing like you, usually soft spoken and sweet, but you have no problem decimating a room of them like it’s nothing. You smile so pretty at them all, bat your lashes and they land argument after argument, bouncing off what Gojo says.

Gojo is chuckling after about twenty minutes, as they seem to really think he couldn’t fuck them all if he felt like it. “What you’re forgetting, is I’m the highest up there is here.”

“Your father-”

“My father trusts me to take over. Plain and simple, are there going to be any problems? Millions not enough for you all, need golden toilets for your asses?” You barely hold in the snort of laughter, eyes bright as you watch him continue to disgruntle the room, until they finally let up.

Naoya walks up to you, eyeing you up and down as Satoru is talking to Yaga, who seems to be one of the more laid back of them all, his hands in his pockets, light brown eyes lit up. You tense at his gaze, feeling it like a slimy, disgusting touch, making you almost sick. You’re trembling as his eyes dissect you.

“Conveniently, he gets a bride the moment everyone pushes him.” He says with a nasty smirk, brushing a tendril of your hair back. “Don’t buy it.”

“Well, we’ve been in love forever, I assure you.” You say quietly, he hums to himself, when Mei walks over, and damn this woman just saunters, truly, hands on her curved hips.

“It’s so odd indeed, out of a list of so many eligible ladies. Was it true love, I wonder?” She taps her chin curiously, Satoru sees you then, coming by your side immediately, and arm around your waist.

Is he being a protective best friend or…

More.

Is this all just for show, as he pulls you to his side so possessively, making your pulse race, your body reacting as you look up at his face, and he’s scowling at the both of them. “Everything alright, sweets?”

“Yes, they were wishing us the best, weren’t you both?” You say, earning Naoya’s glare and Mei’s smirk.

“Indeed we were, we’ll see you at the auction I imagine?” Mei says, eyeing Satoru now.

“We’ll be there, of course. But for now, hmm…” He tilts your chin up, kissing you in a room full of people who want to hurt him, and hurt you, a protectiveness he’s always had for you becoming so intense it’s hard for him to function, he’d literally take down anyone and everyone that would dare say one thing to you even.

Your lips are sweet, so sweet, as you lean up and kiss him, wrapping an arm around his waist, and that same electricity sparks, even with all their seedy eyes on the two of you. He pulls back, looking at your lips, as you look into his eyes, already dilated and dark, when he clears his throat, smirking up at the shocked gazes.

“Are we all done here?” He asks, and then proceeds to take you out of that room, you finally catch a breath in the elevator, and Satoru grins at you, cupping your face with his big hands, bending down.

“Holy shit.” You murmur, earning his chuckle.

“You were amazing! How dumb am I telling you - look pretty and let me talk- shit I think it was the opposite?”

“No way…”

“Yes way. That was sexy.” He hums, you’re both giggling a bit, but you’re close, too close, and his thumb is brushing your lower lip, sending desire straight through to your tummy.

“I thought you were mad at me.” You whisper then, earning his smile turning down at the corners, his eyes a little distant and hazy.

“I could never be.”

The elevator doors open, the two of you walk out of the sliding glass doors of the enormous building, and you are trying not to touch the lips he just had, trying not to think of just how good they felt. The driver pulls up and you get into the car, Satoru slides in next to you, far too close, you inhale his cologne, you still taste him on your lips, like torture.

“I’m not mad at you.” He says again, you blink a bit, taking a breath, before looking up at him as the car drives onto the highway, gently moving underneath you both.

“You turned down movies for days. You won’t eat dinner with me. I get you’re busy, I really do, but I enjoy it, spending time. I’m… lonely without you? I know that sounds so silly, I’m sorry. Shit.” You cover your face, hating the pathetic words spilling from your lips. “You’re probably sick of all this time, even as a best friend.”

That’s not it.

God that’s not it.

It’s just when he’s next to you all he can think of is fucking you, or making you cum all over his mouth, his fingers. He can’t stand how good you smell, how good you feel, he melts over your pretty smiles and giggles, he can’t stand how deeply he is starting to feel. The three times you all have kissed for publicity it took everything in him not to drag you home.

How does he just shut it off, the ability to kiss you when he wants? And now you’re lonely, you’re hurting, not even able to look at him when he gently pulls down your hands by your wrists. “Look at me.” He murmurs softly.

You do then, and he sees it, tears swimming. “Sorry I’m too emotional.” You whisper then, embarrassed.

“No, I’m being an ass.”

You let out a little laugh. “No, Satoru just distant, and I didn’t know if I fucked something up, the day in your office?”

“No, no. Please, I swear it’s not that… I’ve been in my head.” He mutters, unable to express it truly.

“I get it, you have a lot going on. I want to be here for you.”

“You are.” He’s brushing your hair back softly, leaning down, resting his head against yours, it’s too intimate then, the words on the tip of your tongue, that you feel more than you should, but you try to swallow them. “You’re amazing, you made them all look so stupid.”

“No…”

“Yes. You surprised me, I never have seen you like that.”

“Sexy, you said hmm.” You tease, but he’s serious then, as your breaths mingle, and he’s leaning even closer, wreaking havoc on your every sense.

“God yes, you’re sexy like that.”

“Satoru… it’s too much.” You whisper, as his hand rests on your thigh, and he feels it, how hot you are, earning his eyes shutting, trying to not let it affect him and failing. “I haven’t… I’m really…”

“Been a while, sweetheart?”

“Oh fuck you.” You don’t move his hand when he slips it up higher, in fact your thighs spread just a bit, his little moan making more wetness start to drool from your aching pussy.

“I take up all your time, you can’t date, why not let me take care of you?” He acts as if he can handle anyone ever touching you, the thought alone makes him feral, want to fucking claim you as his own, to devour you senseless. He tries to be teasing, casual, watching your breath catch, your pupils dilate.

“Wh-what!?” Your lips part, and his desperate blue gaze is so intense it’s hard to look at.

“Let me make you cum, sweetheart, hmm? It’s the least I can do, I’m taking up all of you, I am sure it’s been a bit.” You gulp nervously. “You’re not a…”

“No, no, not a virgin Toru, just I didn’t like it.” You admit softly.

“At all?” He whispers, frowning just a bit, before he feels your inner thigh with his thumb, finding you hot and sticky, making you gasp. “Who sucked that bad?”

“You don’t know him. But I didn’t like getting…”

“Fingered?”

“That, not at all, um the times it happened were uncomfortable. So don’t try, it won't work.” Satoru laughs then softly, shaking his head.

“I’ve never had that problem. And I would never hurt you.” His words are serious then, you gulp nervously.

“I know you wouldn’t. But it’s intimate, and it’s not for show.” Your hand clutches his blazer now, thick material in your palm when he finally touches you over your panties, making you cry out at the contact, his cock throbs in response.

“Let me just take care of you, make you feel s’good, hmm? Don’t think too much about it, just feel.” He presses kisses down the side of your neck, your free hand wraps the back of his neck, brushing over his undercut, the soft hair under your fingers like silk, when he presses his fingers over your clothed clit. “You like that, pretty?”

“Y-yes.” You manage, his lips kiss and then suck at the base of your throat, when his finger slips under your panties, finding you bare, soaked, your cry is louder, when he finds your engorged little clit, feels you slippery against his long fingers.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He huffs, free hand slipping up the side of your breast while he rolls his finger in little circles, and your hips jerk, your head falling back. “She’s begging f’me to put one in.”

“You c-can try, but- ah!” Satoru sinks a long finger in you, pressing up, and you’re blinded when he finds your spot so effortlessly, leaning back to look down at your face, as it scrunches up in pleasure. “Ngh!”

“There it is, some loser couldn’t find it hmm? I’ve got you, don’t worry.” He’s pressing up again and again, the spongy spot in your gummy walls, gripping him so fucking tight. You hear it, the lewd sound of your squishing cunt, your eyes rolling back in your skull as he works you. “Let go, trust me.”

“It’s too much I… T-Toru…” You whisper his name, while moaning, your mouth open in this perfect O, it makes him leak precum, sticking to his boxers as your thighs spread for him, as you trust him, your eyes lidded. “More.”

“More?” He repeats, speechless for a moment as you’re leaning forward, your lips just a breath away.

“Please, it’s s’good Toru.” Your little plea destroys the last fighting brain cell he has, he’s slipping one more in you, making you pulse around the thick invasion, curling them up and sinking them inside you, to the knuckle, while you moan against his lips. “F-fuck… oh my god what…”

“That’s it, fuckin’ feel her, grippin’ me.” He’s fucking his fingers into you, wishing they were his cock, and you’re soaking his hand, your cunt drooling when he shoves them in deep, thumb pression on your clit, making you shatter. “There you go, sweetheart, that’s it, s’pretty like this.”

You’re cumming all over your best friend/fake husband’s talented fingers, nearly crying at how good the release feels, pulsing all around him, hands clinging to his jacket, hopelessly wrinkling the material, all while he watches you. Your mind goes blank, pleasure is the only thing you can focus on, as he eases his strokes, and you both are panting in the quiet car.

Satoru eases his fingers out, putting them to his lips and sucking now, moaning when he tastes you, and your mouth drops in shock. “T-Toru…”

“Fuck.” He’s kissing you then, your slick all over his lips as he presses your back against the seat, and your thighs shake, sensitive from cumming so hard, you can barely focus on anything but your throbbing pussy.

“Please.” You whisper again, as he yanks his cock out, right in the back of the car, and you reach down, stroking it, his eyes shut as he whimpers, Satoru Gojo whimpers, over you touching his pretty pink tip, swirling that precum.

“Wanna taste you first.” He huffs, kissing down your throat when the car comes to a halt, yanking at your dress, pressing hungry kisses on your breasts.

“What are we… Toru what’re we d-doing, fuck!” You’re whining out when he’s biting at your nipple over your bra, your hands yank on his hair, hips arching, feeling his length on your inner thigh.

“M’gonna-”

“Mr. Gojo, we’re here.” His driver infuriates him now, Satoru leans up, breaths heavy as he’s leaned over you, looking at your already fucked out eyes.

“We almost… we… y-you…” You are stuttering, suddenly so nervous, so overwhelmed. “Is this just you helping me out? Is it-”

“Mr. Gojo-”

“Ijichi, I’ll fucking kill you.” He mutters angrily, quieting his driver quickly, as he adjusts himself and then you, and you’re sitting up, blushing as he fixes your panties, fingers covered still in your slick. He sucks them again further making your tummy flutter, tighten, your heart pounding out of your chest. “God you taste yummy, the fuck, how does someone taste this good.”

“You tasted me? Twice!?” He smirks now, easing you to sit, tilting up your chin now.

“Not fully.”

“Fully!? Is this what friends do?”

“Well I sure don’t want you doing this with anyone else.” He glares now, jaw locking, making you gasp.

“What now?”

“No one else can do that to you.” His lips gently kiss yours, you taste yourself on them again, but you shove at him now, glaring.

“What do you even mean, no one else? You think you have some freakish claim on me now?”

“I know you came so hard you soaked my fucking backseats, hmm?” He whispers, you roll your eyes now, eagerly getting out of the car.

“You’re insane, Satoru.”

“You clearly like it.” You scoff, body shaking, legs literally wobbly, you try to ignore them as you stride up to the front of Satoru’s fancy doors, and walk in quickly, as he follows you with long strides, calling your name.

“That was fingering as a friend!?”

“No… it was…” He wants to say it then, you’re literally his fucking wife, even if it’s pretend, he can’t think of anything he wants more than you, to be inside you.

“Almost fucked me as a friend? Satoru, I can't do that.”

“I know, I didn’t… I just…” You’re turning away, if you look into those blue eyes too long you won’t be able to breathe, to exist, every inch of your body dying for more. “You loved it.”

You scowl as he smirks. “You’re a conceited little shit, just like when we met! Swear to god.”

“You’re still shaking.” He says, eyes raking over you, you gasp.

“You know what? Fuck you.”

“If you want to, say the word.” He murmurs, leaning against your doorway, and you roll your eyes.

“No way, I’m going to bed early. Good night.” You shut the door right in his face, sliding down it, head in your hands.

What the heck even was that.

Five weeks of being ‘fake married’ to your best friend, Satoru Gojo

Satoru and you were barely talking this entire week, you’re so furious with his cocky, conceited attitude, and the fact that he’s entirely right. Nothing felt that good, no one felt like just his fingers had, how he found you, how he looked at you. Now for the past week every night you’ve done the one thing you said you wouldn’t do.

Touch yourself to the memory.

You’re rolling your fingers on your clit, whining his name in a breathy whisper the morning of the charity auction, covering your mouth with your free hand as you realize that you’ve done it, that you’ve said his name, all while cumming all over your little fingers, which don’t even come close to his, lengthy and thick, the rough pads of his thumbs.

And you could fuck him, you know you could, but you also know what it will mean, there is no friends after that, kissing alone has made things impossible for you both. And Satoru is doing the most amazing things, you’re so proud of him already, and don’t ever want to lose him. But now he’s in your head, making you absolutely insane with want, with need, with desire.

Now you can’t even think of him without picturing his cheeks hollowing as he sucked your wetness off, picturing his head between your thighs, things you shouldn’t, and it’s like he knows. He smirks at you just so, lazy lidded eyes draping down your frame every morning, every night, making sure to constantly have a hand on you in public.

He was making you lose it, and he knew it.

Your stupid little fingers can’t do shit, in fact they frustrate you more, but it’d be a cold day in hell before you ask him for any help. In fact you realize the game he plays when he walks around in his boxers, when he does push ups in the middle of the living room with one arm, like he’s showing off, smirking when he catches you watching him, in your moments of weakness.

It would be so easy to fall into his bed, but to think of ruining your friendship terrified you, to think of the feelings you know would be unleashed like some fucking flood gate was too much. You never have been able to be casual, you’re not even interested in someone without feelings, and you’re slowly realizing that those feelings when you were younger never went away.

They’re just more intense now, living with him, with this unspoken tension in the air, every breath you take you can practically taste him, every time you watch his fingers slipping around the rim of his cup you remember them in you. As you see the clear bulge in his boxers you remember touching him, remember wanting to taste that precum on his tip.

The worst part is he looks so knowingly at you, so sure you’d probably beg for him, you’re sure many, many women do. But despite knowing Satoru to be a bit of a ladies man, you’ve not seen a single one here since you’ve lived here, not seen him go on a single date. You’re not sure if you could handle it, despite acting so very nonchalant about it.

But you have no claim over him, this was just convenience, every bit of the arrangement. Your new car, no more debt, helping Satoru do what he needed to, you all are a perfect team even with the added tension of your pussy constantly throbbing around said best friend. Surely it wasn’t worth ruining, complicating, just to feel that pleasure he brings.

As you’re putting the finishing touches on your makeup, you nervously step out of the room, into Gojo’s spacious foyer, where he’s turned around, a dark blue suit adorning his body like a glove. He hears your heels click on the marble floor below and turns, his lips parting as he studies you.

The red dress hugs every line and curve of your pretty body, the bold shade making your skin pop so pretty, it looks so smooth he aches to caress you, every bit of you. You are biting your lower lip nervously, looking up at him from across the room as you stand there, looking so beautiful his pulse races.

This week has been torture for Satoru, he wants to tell you then, that he feels so much more than he even knows how to convey, that it wasn’t just ‘getting a friend off’ it was such a joke, he can’t even understand how you believe that. He can’t get the sweetness of your pussy off his goddamn mind, he’d do just about anything to taste it again.

He’s even eyed your panties in the hamper. He's so pathetic and desperate for you, but he’s tried to keep some semblance of composure, to act unbothered, so scared to ruin your relationship. He knows how much you sacrificed just coming here, sure he’s helping you, but you uprooted everything, you acted perfect at every function, you stood up for him at every meeting.

You are the perfect wife.

Pretend wife.

Pretend, pretend, pretend.

He keeps repeating it like a mantra in his head, brushing off the moment in the back of the car as maybe you just needed to cum, maybe it was just that for you, but something about how your eyes met his, has him desperately pumping his cock, hearing your soft whimpers at night. He knows you’re touching yourself, he wishes he could see it, watch it, take over.

Instead he’s stuck endlessly jerking it to his best friend/fake wife, ignoring any girl that even texts him because they just aren’t you. They could care less he’s ‘married’ everyone just wants a piece of him, everyone but you. You just are there for him, with him, by his side, you’d have done this for nothing in return. You’re becoming everything to him so fast it’s terrifying.

The magnification of feelings he’s had for you over so many years is overwhelming, being near you, smelling your sweet scent, hearing you hum as you cook with your earbuds in, your nervous habits. How you twirl your hair, how you tilt your head, how you tremble just a bit when he holds you for the cameras, how you sigh sweetly as he kisses you for show.

You can’t fake that, he knows you’re affected too.

But he doesn’t know if it’s what he feels for you.

He’s stammering like a teenager at prom, but prom pales in comparison to seeing you now, how the diamonds glitter off your neck and delicate wrists, how he can picture fucking you with just that on. Your cheeks are decorated with that pretty color as you handle his wordless scrutiny, teeth releasing your lip when he comes closer, he brushes a thumb across the indentations left.

You gasp, eyes shooting up to his, as the electric current of his touch rocks through you. “You always bite it, stop. Gonna hurt it.” He says, voice husky, eyes hungry as he looms over you in the quiet, elegant room.

“Do I always?” You whisper, and he nods, brushing his thumb over it again, as if to soothe it.

“Mmhmm, gonna cut up such pretty lips.” His voice drops another octave as one of your hand grips his wrist, and you ache for him to kiss you, to press you against one of these cream colored walls and pound into you.

Stop that!?

You clear your throat, taking a breath and then plastering on a little smile. “You look handsome tonight, blue is your color.”

“Red is yours, clearly.” He brushes a bit of hair back off your bare shoulders, two fingers gently running down the strap, watching the network of goosebumps spread, your heart is racing at the contact. Your urge to yank him by his skinny black tie and slam his lips to yours tempts you to no end.

“Thank you for this dress, and the jewelry. Stop getting me more.” Your little glare just makes him grin.

“At the auction you can get whatever you want, so you know.”

“No way, it’ll all be overpriced.”

“It’s charity, baby. Hmm, should we practice kissing more?” He asks, and you smack his hand away, glaring as he chuckles.

“We’ve had lots of practice, let’s go.”

You all are arm in arm as the cameras flash so brightly later that night when you both step out of the car, so much so they hurt your head, but you hold onto Gojo’s arm, as he guides you through, grinning and answering every question effortlessly. “Why the shades at night, Mr. Gojo?”

“Your bright ass cameras hurt my pretty baby blues.” He teases with a pout, earning the laughter there.

“And what’s this talk of major changes in the Gojo corporation?” Another reporter asks, Satoru chuckles then.

“Ah, well these old geezers needed some revamping is all. Right, pookie?” He asks you, and you smile up at him, then at the cameras.

“Satoru knows what’s best for the company and his employees, his changes are going to only make everyone more profitable.” Satoru watches you answer their questions left and right, enamored more and more by you.

“Are you trying for a baby, Mrs. Gojo?” Someone asks then, and you heat up at the question, at the image that flashes in your head.

Gojo breeding you.

So vivid you feel like you’re there, him murmuring a ‘let me fill you, sweetheart, have you so full of my babies’ and pumping over you. You almost faint it’s so real, and you have no clue what has come over you. You don’t think like that!? You’ve never done shit like that… you…

“We’re enjoying each other a lot right now, but it’ll happen I’m sure, when we’re ready. We’re a little consumed with each other.” Satoru answers now, breaking through the pounding of your heart in your ears, you look up at him, lips parted, as he completely saves you, you’ve frozen on the spot. “Right sweetheart?”

“Right.” You clear your throat, shaking your head then. “We are very much in love, and enjoying our alone time, but we’d both love a baby.” You say, and you hate how real it is.

He hates how he can picture you now, full mating press, as he fucks one load of cum into your pussy, and then another, watching it all pool out. Fuck he’d watch your tummy get so full of him. The thoughts of getting you pregnant make him feral then, he can hardly stand there as he just stares at you, and you at him.

You don’t get your best friend/fake wife pregnant.

Do you?

The auction continues, fancy and expensive items for filthy rich people, Gojo detests it more than even you do, though you’d never know with how he plays the room. You see Mei and Naoya again, laughing about something in this creepy way that makes you shiver. When Gojo is mingling while you're having a seat, you see a pretty brunette girl talking to him closely.

Why does it make you feel so sick to see him, you don’t know. You’ve watched him date, and he’s watched you, but something about living with him, about this enormous glinting rock on your finger really messes with you. His grin glinting under glittering chandeliers of this enormous auction room, another woman coming up, surely he runs in their circles.

You try not to focus on that, it’s not as if you have given Gojo a hint that you want more, and do you? Do you want to cross that line? If something doesn’t work, it’s not a fight between friends, it’s the end of everything, and isn’t having Gojo with you somewhat better than not at all?

“You look like you hate this, huh doll?” You hear then, looking up to see a dark haired man, grinning down at you, he’s handsome in a rugged way, not pretty like Satoru, but something appealing. A scar on his lip as he chuckles, gesturing around you both. “Bunch of rich assholes, huh?”

“Shh!” You giggle though, looking around, nodding.

“Knew it.”

“So what’re you doing here?” You ask quietly, he grimaces, running a hand through inky locks.

“Got a fuckin job to do, what about you?” You gesture to Satoru then, who’s glaring right at you both.

“I’m married to Gojo.”

“Ah shit, I’m too late.” You blush a bit at the attention, Satoru has a girl who’s far too close, whispering in his ear, her hand on his shoulder, making you sick.

“Hmm.” Is all you manage, looking back up at the man. “What is your name?”

“Toji Zenin. Yeah, I know, the name… but fuck them.”

“You are different.” You murmur softly, tilting your head to the side, he brushes his fingers then across your thigh subtly, your jaw clenches a bit.

“If I was with you I sure wouldn’t be over there with snobby bitches.” He says, and you don’t like it then, the jealousy in your heart as Gojo walks up suddenly, clearing his throat.

“Zenin.” He mutters, and he grins up at Gojo.

“Talking to your wife, Gojo, keeping her company y’know? Shouldn’t leave such a pretty thing so lonely.”

“You’re. In. My. Seat.” Satoru mutters, teeth clenched together, and Toji laughs with ease, taking your hand, planting a kiss on the back of it with a wink.

“See ya around, doll.” He says, patting Gojo on the shoulder, and Satoru wants to rip his fucking arm off then, as he glares down at you, sitting in the seat, but you cross your arms, looking away.

“Did he touch you?” He demands quietly, you frown then.

“He was nice, I mean he-”

“Nice!? Looked like he wanted to eat you.”

“What do you care, looks like they were all over you. Oh look, they miss you, go say hi.” You say, as three girls giggle and point over at Satoru, his blue eyes narrow, leaning over you then, cupping your face with his hand.

“Think I wanted to be bombarded by flirty ass drunk women?”

“I don’t know!”

“Do you care if I do?”

“No! What do you care about me then?” You demand, whispering amongst the loud crowd of auctioneers, as they start lining pieces up for sale.

“Because he… you…” Satoru trails off, mouth opening and closing. “You are my wife right now, you know.”

“Fake wife.” You correct, seeing a vein throb in his temple.

“It doesn’t matter, how does it look when-”

“That’s what you care about, appearances? Don’t worry, I won’t ruin your precious appearance any.” You whisper, as the crowd settles, and a brilliant sapphire necklace is now on display.

“You act like you don’t care at all, I saw you.”

“So what!?”

“So why don’t you just tell me how -”

“Ten thousand, do I hear…”

“Shh.” You scowl at him, as he scowls back at you. “Maybe you should go sit with your girlfriends.”

He laughs softly, without humor. “You’re jealous.”

“Nope, you’ve always been that way. What’s surprising is not having seen a girl at the house.”

“You think I want-”

“Twenty Thousand, going once, going…”

“Want someone more your speed? Sure, I know this is just convenience, I'm not stupid.” You say, he scowls even deeper, his hand suddenly on your thigh in the darkened room, making your heart pound as it squeezes bruisingly.

“I’ll not have anyone touch you.” His words make no sense, they don’t even compute in your brain then.

“What do you care, hmm? If I did. If I was discrete. Remember?” You ask, bitingly and full of shit, and you watch the hurt in his eyes, hating yourself for a moment before his eyes turn insane, dilating until they’re almost black.

“You wanna fuck him, huh?” He demands, you scoff, shaking your head.

“You’re stupid, Satoru.”

“Me stupid!?”

“If you think that I want anyone but…” You pause then, gulping as people are starting to look, hearing your hushed arguments then, and you stand angrily, stomping off until you hit the bathroom, splashing water on your neck, trying to pull yourself together.

You almost said it.

You’ll never want anyone but Satoru, your best friend, and you never have, fuck you probably never will, and it’s terrifying you. When the door shuts and he’s there, chest heaving, you turn away, tears pricking your eyes. “Just go away, fuck it’s the ladies room.”

“You’re mad at me for talking to women at an event?”

“You’re mad at me for talking to someone at an event?”

Yes, fuck yes he’s furious that man got near you.

That maybe you’d want someone else, more than him.

He steps closer, hands on your shoulders now. ““You gonna be mad when I fuck someone in my room, huh?”

You freeze, turning and glaring up at him then. “I hear you jerk off every night, so what’s the difference?”

Satoru looms even closer, you feel his breath hit your lips, making your tummy clench at the thoughts of him. “And I hear you moan as you play with your little clit, ya frustrated your tiny fingers don’t hit?”

“Oh fuck you!” You turn now, shoving at him, chest heaving, but he pulls you to him, pressing you against the bathroom counter, glittering and ridiculously opulent, hands shaking when they’re on your waist.

“You should just ask for help, sounds like you can’t cum.” Satoru whispers, earning a smack on the face that makes him smirk.

“Maybe you should ask me, how many times do you need to jerk off a night, huh Toru?” Satoru’s laughing then, insanity, his cheek decorated with red from your little hand print.

“At least I make myself cum.”

“Fuck you, I’m over this. I’ll take the opposite side of the house, won’t have to hear your moans.”

“Good, won’t hear your pathetic whimpers.”

“Good!”

“Good!” You both stand there, him bent over, barring you with his arms. “Admit it, you’re jealous.”

“Nope, just annoyed with you. Over you, Mr. never has on a fucking shirt!”

“Good, I’m done, Miss walks around in slutty panties!”

“Ugh!” You shove at him again, until he’s slamming his lips on yours, and then you’re lifted like you’re nothing, when his tongue slips in your mouth, and you’re clinging to him eagerly, as he sits you on the sink, hungrily shoving up your red dress. “You’re gonna rip it, shit!”

“I’ll buy you twenty more, just shut up.” You go to retort when he’s kissing you again, deeper now, and you’re crying out right in a bathroom, knowing anyone could walk in, only serving to make your cunt dripping wet, when he finds it he moans, pulling back and staring at you. “Why are you so beautiful?”

You can’t speak then, you’re lost in him, in his blue eyes and his pink lips, in his big hands all over you, his whispering words crushing any resolve you try to have. You lose all reason then, as your head falls back as he kisses up your throat, and you’re gushing down his fingers, remembering their shape and feel as they tease your entrance.

“Please, Satoru…”

“Why are you so sweet now, huh? Where’s your attitude?” He murmurs, but you’re arching up, whining as he stares at you so hungry. “Should fuck that attitude out of you.”

“Please…” You whisper again, when Satoru bends down, his head between your thighs, and stares right at your glittering pussy.

“Oh my god, she’s s’fuckin pretty…” He murmurs then, licking a stripe up your slit that has you crying out into your hand, thighs shaking as he groans at finally being able to taste you. “S’yummy mmm…”

“Toru…what’re you-ah!” You’re covering your mouth again as he laps at your cunt, his nose bumping your sensitive clit, and you’re dripping down his face, hand finding purchase in his silken white hair, gripping it.

“Gonna lick this attitude out of you.” He whispers, as your sweet nectar pours down his mouth, his hands spreading your plump lips, fucking you with his tongue then, your head smacks the wall, nearly sobbing it feels so good. “No one’s licked it, have they, baby?” You shake your head. “Good, s’all mine, huh?”

“All… y-you… Toru what are- mnh!” He’s yanking you to him by your hips, devouring you now, unlike anything you’ve ever felt, having you close so fast it’s embarrassing, tongue dancing and delving between your folds, drinking you up loud and wanton in this bathroom.

“F-fuck….” He’s achingly hard now, cock throbbing, tip of his tongue circling your little clit as he spreads you wide, looking at your perfect pretty pussy.

“You’re just… looking at it…” You manage to whisper, and he’s chuckling now, leaning over you, sinking two fingers inside, making your eyes roll back, so sensitive you’re about to cum right then and there. “Imagining it dripping out cum, sweetheart, that’s all.”

Your brain short circuits. “With cum!?”

“Mmm.” He’s not using words anymore, not when he’s picking you up, planting your heeled feet back on the bathroom floor, turning you to face the mirror. He’s lifting that dress up higher and bending down, pressing against you, finally he’s lost it, so drunk off your pussy, he can’t take it anymore.

“Satoru, you’re insane, what are you…”His cock springs out, heavy and aching with need, as he bends you over, one hand on his cock, the other, wrapping your pretty little throat, as your eyes catch his in the mirror, glassy and dilated.

“Next time he or anyone talks to you, it’ll be with my cum dripping out of your pretty little pussy.”

Final Part

Taglist: @plaggi @baepsays @victoria1676 @flwerie @luringfantasy @moncher-ire @allonyyourmom @kindablackenedsuperhero @evelynxxo @jkslaugh97 @sugurusfavemonkey @ninikrumbs @s4ikooo1 @bunheadusa @twinkling-moonlillie @chameleonsoul111 @nina-from-317 @naammiii @whippedbyikemen @alygator77 @uarmyhopeworldwide @1satoruu @theclassbookworm @jud3thedude @isleqt @mcromer2999-blog @silvarys @orikixx @jiejies-corner-store @assbutt-inlove-with-koreans @lordbugs @ari-sa @blue-musingss @minaa-06 @uhnosav @cvixmei @seeiin @indiewritesxoxo @loafteaw @moonlitwitchdaisy @beachaddict48 @miizuzu @honeybunnnnie @gojosukuna2268 @4acoffee @whoreapika @arabellasolstice

Rest in the reblog <3