#wouldn’t it be cool if they both watched out for him?

[cjlouwho]

“The team is off this year, and you are too, so I’m going to show you what a real Thanksgiving looks like.”

That’s what Buck had told him a month ago, a late night discussion in bed at the loft, Buck’s shoulder healed enough to lie down but Tommy making no effort to leave him.

Being off for Thanksgiving was rare, both of them being off was practically a miracle. Buck was determined not to waste it.

He’d asked Tommy about what his Thanksgivings were like growing up. Tommy had told him, the first few he could remember were his dad yelling about something not being done right and his mom ending up in the bedroom crying.

After she died, there was no more Thanksgiving at all. The only thing Tommy would do, more for his mom than anything else, is make her “special homemade dressing” (a box of Stovetop), and cranberry sauce. He’d eat it alone in the kitchen while his dad downed one beer after another in his chair in the living room, watching whatever game was on.

And once he was an adult, he worked pretty much every Thanksgiving, so he didn’t think much of it.

Buck had kissed him hard after that, promised this year would be different. They’d all be at Maddie and Chimney’s place, but everyone was going to pitch in with the cooking. There would be kids running around, and games, and way too much food, and maybe once everyone else left they’d watch a Christmas movie.

Tommy played it cool, but he felt like a kid on the inside. He was so excited. He’d get to be with his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s family, which were his friends too. There would be laughter and embarrassing stories told. The kids would be getting excited for Christmas and he’d ask Jee what she was wanting so he could get her present sorted out. It would be perfect.

Tommy cleared his throat as he turned off the stove, blinking away the tears in his eyes. He set the stuffing on the back burner, letting it sit while he scooped two spoonfuls of cranberry sauce on his plate. From the fridge he grabbed a beer and set it at the table. Then he went back to the stuffing and stirred it, satisfied with the thickness. He added a bit more than a regular serving size to his plate, then walked back to the table.

From his seat he could hear the game on in the living room. If he pretended enough, he could imagine his dad in there. At least then he wouldn’t be alone.

[ktownshizzle]

Friends & Fools | One-Shot

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: You and Yoongi have always been just friends—inseparable since childhood, roommates in the city, partners in navigating life’s chaos. At your high school reunion, the questions start: Are you two finally together? Uh, no. But as the night goes on, and Yoongi looks at you like that, hmm—has everyone else seen something you’ve been too scared to admit?

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive, non-idol!au, reunion!au, best friends & roommates to lovers, grumpy x grumpy, when reader is more yoongi than yoongi himself

Warnings: cursing, smoking cigarettes, kissing, allusion to sex

Word count: 2.8k

Posting date: November 26, 2024

Notes: This is a one-shot to celebrate my 500 followers milestone for the blog! Just a cute little something as a thank you making this writer happy. The story was inspired by two asks: 1) lovely anon who wanted to talk about Yoongi at Jimmy Fallon; 2) kookiewithluv who sent me the softest, smiliest, fluffiest d-day Yoongi photos that I just couldn’t help myself.

Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕

Masterlist

MIN YOONGI 101 is a course you could’ve taught in school. It’s a subject matter you’ve mastered somewhere between the sandbox (when he was the kid hoarding plastic shovels in the playground) and the shoebox (the over-priced apartment that you both decided to rent together after uni).

It’s ‘cause you’ve always been good at watching him. You’ve picked up all his visual cues, his weird quirks, his tells.

Tonight is no different. From across the room, in the too-bright glare of your high school gym’s rented stage lights, you catch the tell-tale pinch of his brow, the mindless nodding that means he’s enduring yet another overly enthusiastic former classmate. Someone’s laughing too loud in his face, and he responds the same way he always does—with a small, polite smile and a glance at his drink like it’s his lifeline.

You’d know that look anywhere.

Yoongi catches your eye then, like he can feel your energy slicing through the crowd, and his lips twitch. The faintest ghost of a smirk, the kind he reserves just for you. He raises his glass, and you do the same from across the room. A silent message of we're too fucking sober to be in this joint.  He holds your gaze and you watch as he inadvertently inserts the straw up one nostril, giggling because that wouldn’t be the first time. He shakes his head and puts it back in his mouth for a sip.

It’s comforting, really. That tether between you and Yoongi.

Even if the two of you are apparently the only ones here who don’t see what everyone else does.

You are standing by the endlessly classy boxed wine on the buffet table, watching your old classmates get progressively tipsier under dim lighting. Yoongi stands next to you, unabashedly drinking whiskey straight from his flask. He looks real sharp in a tailored blazer, with a casual t-shirt underneath, mumbling earlier that day how he cannot be arsed to fiddle with a necktie, even though it’s always you who has been fixing it for job interviews, funerals, formal occasions etc. for him for the past years. Secretly you think he knew that wearing that t-shirt actually just made him look effortlessly cool.

Someone from across the room waves, and you recognize it to be Hyorin, your former lab partner who was also a cheerleader or something, making her way toward you. “Oh my God, you two!” she exclaims, beaming. “You finally got together, huh?”

Yoongi chokes on his drink, and you nearly drop your solo.

“Nooo,” Yoongi drawls, dragging the word out with a mix of disbelief and amusement.

Hyorin frowns, tilting her head. “Wait. You’re not a couple?”

You both shake your heads so emphatically it looked rehearsed. 

“Nope,” you say, popping the P.

“Not even fucking?”

The audacity of this chick, though?

“Not even close,” Yoongi answers, but his voice sounded oddly tight. 

Hyorin gives you both a skeptical once-over before laughing. “Okay, sure. Whatever you guys say.” She leaves, shaking her head like you’ve just told her the earth is flat, didn’t you know that?

They’re really starting to piss you off, ngl.

“Okay, but seriously,” Jihyo, who was in the band with you and one of the few people you’ve kept some form of contact with (hence can tolerate), hisses. “You’re really still not together?”

It was your turn to choke on your drink. “Hajimaaa! Why does everyone keep asking me that? Y’all wanna shoot your shot with Yoongi, go! I don’t give a fuck.”

Jihyo gives you a look like you’re the most oblivious person on earth. “This is exactly why I think you’re into him. Not everyone wants to date him, girl. We’re just curious about you two.”

“I—fuck you, actually. Give me one good reason why you think we’re a… thing.”

“Because you and Yoongi have been attached at the hip since we were all kids? Because you practically morphed into the same person? Because he’s literally looked at you the same way since he had that awful mushroom cut in fourth grade?”

“It wasn’t a mushroom cut. It was…” You cringe. “Yeah, it was a mushroom cut.”

You both giggle, then she asks, swirling the remains of her wine. “But seriously. Everyone thought you finally figured it out. You two moved in together a couple of months ago, no?”

“Yeah, because rent’s insane, I hate people, and he hates people, so we’re perfect roommates.”

Jihyo raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Mmhmm. Roommates. Sure.”

You roll your eyes, but the words stick with you as the night drags on, looping in your head as more classmates approach with the same comments. It’s exhausting. You’re about to grab your coat and drag Yoongi out of here when you feel a familiar figure at your side.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks, voice low, his shoulder brushing yours. 

“I’m fine,” you sigh. “Just… everyone keeps asking why we’re not dating.”

Yoongi scoffs, his tongue clicking against his teeth. “What’d you tell ‘em?”

“The truth.”

He smirks again, but it’s sharper this time, laced with something you can’t quite name. “And what’s that?”

“That you’re a chronically unavailable workaholic and are too emotionally constipated to be anyone’s boyfriend.”

He huffs a laugh, shoulders bobbing. “Ouch,” he says, but his eyes are soft, the way they get when he looks at you sometimes, warm and wistful.

You look away first, clearing your throat, suddenly remembering what Jihyo said about how he looks at you. “Well, you’re not exactly ideal boyfriend material.”

Yoongi shrugs, mouth forming a straight line. “Fair.”

Anyway, you know you’re no dream girl, either. He is just way too soft for you to say it to your face.

Between the two of you, your combined dating history looks like a collection of UN flags, except they’re all red. 

Him with his too-whiny, needy bitches, who have far too high expectations of him and he is just not the guy to validate their feelings 24 fucking 7. He has things to do (produce) and places to be (his studio).

And you, with your love bombers and commitment-phobes that have got you questioning if there’s something wrong with you because they always lose interest down the line. (Yoongi says they're all assholes btw, and you are inclined to believe him, despite lingering self-doubt.)

You always joked that no one else understood either of you the way you understood each other.

But aren’t jokes half-meant?

By the time the reunion starts winding down, you’re tipsy enough that the edges of the night feel soft and fuzzy. You’re outside, leaning against the brick wall of the building with Yoongi, his jacket draped over your shoulders because he’s simply gentlemanly like that. Raised well by his eomma who you equally adore.

“You didn’t have to stay this long,” he says, lighting a cigarette.

You watch the glow of it as he inhales, the faint tremble of his fingers in the cold. “Neither did you.”

He shrugs, exhaling a thin ribbon of smoke. “I wasn’t gonna let you suffer alone.”

Something warm pools in your chest. “Thanks. And, same.”

The quiet stretches between you, the kind of comfortable silence only Yoongi can manage. It’s strange how natural it feels, just existing with him like this. Like it’s enough.

You gesture to the stick, then he slowly brings it to your lips.

You exhale the smoke as you tilt your head back to look at the stars—or what few stars there are on this cloudy night—and ask the question that’s been sitting heavy on your tongue all night.

“Why do you think everyone assumes we’re together?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer right away, but you can feel the heaviness of his gaze on you like it’s settling on your shoulders.

“I dunno,” he says eventually, voice quiet. “Maybe because we act like we are.”

Hol’ up. “What do you mean?”

He takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slow. “I mean… we know each other better than anyone else. We live together. Spend all our time together. Maybe they think it just makes sense.”

Your heart stutters. “Does it?”

Yoongi stills, blinks like he’s trying to suss out where you’re going with this. “What’s up with you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice teeny-tiny. “Just… do you ever think maybe we’ve been—”

“Idiots?” he cuts in, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

You laugh, but it’s shaky. “Yeah. That.”

Yoongi looks at you then, really looks at you, and you feel like the ground might give out beneath you. There’s something in his expression, something raw and vulnerable and scared. Like he’s standing on the edge of something, just waiting for you to push him over.

“Sometimes,” he says finally, his voice rough.

It’s not an admission, not exactly, but it’s enough to make your pulse race.

“Yoongi,” you start, but the words catch in your throat.

He snuffs the cigarette against the wall and tosses it towards the can. Then, he steps closer, close enough that you can see the faint moles on his face, the curve of his lashes as he blinks down at you.

“You wanna go home?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

You know what he’s really asking.

You say yes.

The walk to the subway station is quiet. Tense.

The back of his hand brushes yours as you walk along the sidewalk, and neither of you moves away.

The subway ride back to your apartment is also quiet. Tense.

Yoongi doesn’t say much, but his knee brushes yours every time the train sways, and neither of you moves away. 

By the time you’re back in your apartment, your brain is mushy and your head feels like it’s about to explode as you keep rewinding and replaying the events of the night, every classmate that alluded to your relationship, his lingering glance, sharing the cigarette, every half-formed word between you... Fuck.

Yoongi kicks off his shoes by the door, pushing it under the rack. You stand there awkwardly, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you.

“Tea?” he asks, already moving toward the kitchen.

“No.” Your voice comes out too abrupt, too sharp, and he freezes.

He turns slowly, eyes searching yours. “You ok?”

“No.” You take a deep breath, your heart pounding. “I think we’ve been avoiding this for a long time.”

Yoongi blinks, but you know he is just pretending not to understand what you meant. “Avoiding what?”

“This,” you say, gesturing between you. “Us.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then— “Mm.”

Mm. That’s all he says, like you haven’t just dropped a bomb in the middle of your tiny living room.

“Yoongi,” you say, stepping closer. “Do you—”

“Yeah,” he interrupts, nodding as he bites down on his lower lip. “I do.”

The air shifts between you, and suddenly you’re not sure who moves first, but then his warm hands are on your face and your fingers are tangled in his shirt and his mouth is on yours, and—

Oh.

Damn.

His lips are softer than you imagined—not that you spent countless late nights pining, but if you had, this would surpass every hypothetical. He kisses like he does everything else: deliberate, unhurried, sure. His hands slide down from your face to rest on your waist.

The sigh that slips from your lips is involuntary, but it’s enough for him to push further. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, coaxing you open, and when he deepens the kiss, tasting you, it uncoils the knot that’s been tight in your belly all night. Yoongi tastes faintly like whiskey, like cigarettes, and something else so distinctly him and you’re endlessly intoxicated.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, nails grazing the nape of his neck, and the low, guttural noise he makes in response sends a shockwave through you. Heat settles in your core, spreading with an intensity that takes you by surprise. Because omg–this is not some hot stranger you met at a bar. This is your goddamn best friend, whose hand is now dangerously encroaching on the swell of your ass.

You hadn’t expected this—not the kiss, not the pleasure, not the way he makes you feel like you’re in some version of paradise.

You’re melting with every curl of his tongue, every shift in the way his lips move against yours. It’s the kind of intimacy that makes the rest of the world fall away, until the only thing you’re aware of is the feel of him—his warmth, his certainty, the way he kisses like he already knows this is how it should’ve been in the first place–a sureness you hadn’t expected. 

It’s not just passion—it’s belonging, the sense that every piece of you slots perfectly into place with him. Like the years of laughter, arguments, and everything in between have all been leading here. His hands now circling your waist feel steady, like they’ve always known where to hold you even though this is the very first time. 

And in that moment, kissing Yoongi feels like coming home—warm, certain, complete. A place you hadn’t known you were searching for, because you’ve always been with him, and now you can’t imagine ever leaving.

When you finally pull away, his lips are swollen, and his eyes are a bit moist, blinking blankly like he can’t fathom what just happened. His arms loosen their hold on you, just a bit, and suddenly, you can see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

And for a second, your stomach churns, worried that the wheels in his head are turning and it’s telling him that this was not it.

Finally he speaks. “Was that weird?” 

You huff out a breath, a cross between a chuckle and a sigh of relief, because God. Yoongi could be pressed against you, breathless and flushed, and he’d still overthink. You really belong together.

“Not weird,” you say softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Weirdly perfect, maybe.”

He exhales sharply, relief flooding his features. “Fuck, okay. Good. Because if it sucked for you, I’d have to move out. And in this economy???”

You swat his chest, laughing again, but then his arms tighten around you again, holding you close, and the teasing fades into something softer. It’s not lost on you that this is the longest you’ve ever touched each other. Two socially awkward fools who are secretly touch-starved now finally getting what they’ve been craving for but have been too shy to admit it.

“Seriously, though,” he says, a lopsided grin decorating his lips. “What happens next?”

You tilt your head, pretending to think. “Hmm. You could still make tea if you want?”

He groans, his head dropping to your shoulder. “You’re the worst.”

"Or…" you say, sliding your hands across his chest, your fingers lingering just enough to feel his breath hitch beneath your touch. You push his blazer off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. "We could… you know."

Yoongi lifts his head, and the look in his eyes makes your heart trip over itself. There’s heat there, sure, but beneath it lies something deeper, something that feels vulnerable. "Are we really doing this?"

And you know what he means. Because again, you know Min Yoongi inside out. And he’s known you. But now you’re ready to bare everything that’s left to discover.

"I’ve never been more sure of anything," you say, your voice steady in a way that surprises even you.

His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, his last bit of hesitation melting away as he nods.

You step back, your movements slow, deliberate. Turning away from him, you reach for the straps of your dress and slide them down your shoulders, feeling the fabric loosen as you take a few steps toward his room. You glance back over your shoulder, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Are you coming?"

He grins, gummy and warm, and it’s so achingly Yoongi that your chest tightens. "I would hope so…"

You roll your eyes stifling a laugh, because he’s stupid, because he’s him. And because you’ve never loved (wait... what?) anyone more in your entire life. "C’mere then," you tease, the words soft, daring, as your dress slips to the floor and pools around your ankles.

He breathes out, a sound that’s almost a laugh, almost disbelief. "Okay," he says, his voice low, quiet, like he’s agreeing to something more than just this moment.

And maybe he is. Maybe this is the easiest thing in the world, the most inevitable thing that’s ever happened to either of you.

And now, finally, you’re both ready to admit it.

:)

A/N: EEEEKKKK Please tell me what you thought about the story! I'd appreciate feedback if you loved it, hated it, and if it made you feel a certain way.

Thank you for reading this you lovely, beautiful human xo 

& If you want to read more of my work, please check out my masterlist. & If you enjoy my work and want to buy me a ko-fi, I'd appreciate it.& If you want to be tagged for all future stories, you can sign up for the permanent taglist.

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[applecherrytea]

“Under the Rain, Stuck in my room”

Request from @diced-sugar: Hello! I just came across your blog from scrolling through the twst tag, so sorry I don’t know much about your preferences for writing certain characters 😞 but, if you want a request, could we maybe get something to do with your fav twst character and the prefect being forced to stay together at ramshackle due to a rainy day? Could be cute!! Have a nice day!!

A/N: AAAAAAA I’m so happy! Finally! An excuse to write about my husband and children! Most of these will be romantic, but if you want a platonic version all you need to be is send in an ask! I’ll be happy to write one! Thanks again for sending me your request! I hope you’ll like this!

Character(s) Involved: Trey Clover, Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

CW/TW: G/N!Reader for the most of it. Some strong language during Idia’s part

The downpour came on so suddenly, one moment the sky was sunny and bright, the next it started raining so bad that all classes were suspended! Luckily you and [Character] are together! It’s too bad he wouldn’t be able to go back to his dorm though…

The rain really came on as a surprise. You had asked him to come over, so he could help you out with baking and learning how to cook with the ingredients you were able to haggle at Mr. Sam’s shop. You still can’t believe that that place was more than a magic store. “Wow…it’s really raining out there..” You say as you lean yourself on the window sill, Trey behind you, cooking up what was left of the ingredients you bought. “I already called Riddle, he said I should stay here till the storm blows over.” he said as he plated the food, “You don’t mind, do you perfect?” you signal no with your head, moving away from the window to help Trey out with cleaning up so you both could eat.

Leona was already getting comfortable on your couch as you watched the rain from the guest room window. “This sucks!” Leona peeks open one eye, “I was really looking forward to those specialty lunches they were gonna serve at the cafeteria!” you stomped your way over to the couch, plopping yourself on the empty space Leona gracefully left for you. “You know,” the lion beastman mused, “if you want, I can just order it for you?” he says as he pulls you down to his chest. You look at him quizzically “You really?” he hummed in response, “I told you already, you can use my money on whatever you need. And if what you need is a specialty lunch then,” he offered his phone to you “knock yourself out” You gleaned as you stood up with his phone in your hand, ordering lunch for you three. “Thanks a lot, love!” you pecked his cheek as you stood up from the couch, picking up Grim in the process.

“THIS SUCKS ASS!!!” both you and Idia screamed as you watched the rain pour down. He slumps down to the ground, back facing the wall. “This is so not cool…it’s like watching your new game unload all its data for hours!” you sighed as you joined the complaining housewarden on the floor. “Tell me about it..” you both sat in silence for a while, fidgeting with nearby things as you awkwardly awaited for the rain to stop. “So…” Idia sat idly as he took out his phone, “wanna play while we wait this out?” you smirked as a response, “Is that even a question?” You and Idia spent the next hours playing around multiple games, so long that the weather had passed and Ortho had to come out and take Idia back to Ignihyde.

You knew that the rain was coming, props to the forecaster for reporting about it. You sat in your living room with Grim for a while, waiting for a special someone to come over for your usual nightly walks. “I wonder how long he’s gonna take? The rain looks so serious…” As you said those words, a knock came from the main door. You hurriedly get up from the couch you were lazing on, wearing your rain clothes as well as an umbrella as you open the doors. “Hornton! There you are, was wondering when you’d come over.” you opened the door widely for Malleus. He smiled as he entered your dorm. “Thank you, child of man. If you are ready, then shall we go and take a look at the gargoyles?” You nod happily as you head out with Malleus for a rainy adventure.

[kaybreezy3000]

The Drive-In A Five Hargreeves x Female reader insert, request

(7995 words, rated M for adult themes and explicit sexual content)

After the way it ended with season four, you couldn’t help feeling like Five had done you wrong. 

But…

On a night filled with men masquerading as mythical monsters, your favorite bad boy did you right, mending both your hearts.

Side note: I received the base idea for this one from an anon request. It asked for Five at a horror movie drive-In night, with a female reader insert. That idea for them was inspired by anon being tired while watching old monster movies. The rest of this storyline is perhaps not what they had in mind, being it addresses things that some would rather forget, but overall, I think this story has a nice message that many of us Five lovers can relate to and enjoy.

Warnings and Tags: Smut, Soft Five and Dom Five, NOT a Lila and Five fic

~~~~~~The Drive-In

Convincing Five to go for a ride in his 1965 Nassau Blue Stingray wasn’t as hard as Klaus thought it would be. Then again, going for car rides as a form of entertainment was a very old person thing to do, and his brother was that guy, even if he didn’t look the part of the old fart who couldn’t take a shit without eating his daily dose of prunes.

Driving along, Klaus jabbered about anything and everything that came to mind, but Five said almost nothing in return, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his lips set in a thin line. 

The sun was about to set. It was a beautiful fall evening. The warmth of summer had refused to let go. With the convertible top down, the wind ruffled his dark hair. It felt good, but Five still didn’t feel right.

All around him, life moved on, everyone obliviously living their best lives ever, but here he was, feeling out of place in all of that, just like before.

Trying not to think about his ledger full regrets, or all the idiotic things coming out of Klaus’s mouth, Five instead was doing his best to focus on the soulful sound of the ‘Queen of Jazz,’ Ella Fitzgerald as it mixed with the rumble of his Corvette’s powerful engine. 

Not sharing his brother’s tastes in music, Klaus reached for the radio, but like the last four times he’d done it, he got his hand slapped away.

“Leave it, or I’m going to leave you out here in the middle of nowhere and you can walk home,” Five lowly warned.

Rubbing his hand, pretending to be hurt, Klaus laughed. “You wouldn’t do that because you love me too much. And we aren’t that far away from civilization. I’d be fine. See-” He pointed to the lights shining through the trees up ahead.

“What’s going on up therrr-”

“Quick! Turn!” Klaus excitedly shouted, grabbing the steering wheel, causing the car to swerve off the road. 

Gravel flying, and tires spinning to an abrupt stop, Five slammed on the brake just before rear ending the car ahead of them. There was a line of cars, all of them waiting to get into what he now saw was the entrance to an outdoor, drive-in theater.

Angrily twisting his body around in his seat, so he was facing Klaus head-on, Five went off. “I said I would take you for a ride, not go to a movie with you!”

Klaus stuck out his bottom lip. “Awww, come on. It’s just like that time you got all jacked-up about that Big Ball of Twine. It’s you and me against the world!” “Yeah. Sure. You and me against the world.” Five threw himself back in his seat as he shifted into first, letting off the clutch to inch the car forward. “I can’t even back out of here!” he fumed while flipping off the minivan that just pulled in behind him, blocking his escape route.

“Who cares. This will be fun. And check it out! It’s an old-school monster movie double feature, and a scary costume event! Look at all these cool people!” Like he’d won the lottery, Klaus pumped his hand to the sky despite Five’s sour expression. “You need more of this kind of thing in your life, man. Spontaneous adventures are always the best.”

“Getting stuck with a bunch of juvenile dipshits that are getting drunk is exactly what I need. You’re right,” Five dryly mumbled.

Slowly rolling past the marquee, the warm lights glinted off Five’s shiny chrome side mirror. The reflection of the unhappy young man staring back at him frowned even more. All Five could think about, other than getting out of there, was how not fun all his spontaneous adventures had been. 

As a headstrong, thirteen year old with something to prove, he’d run out the Umbrella Academy dinner room, abandoning his family, and everyone knew where that got him. And then, with the last big adventure that Lila convinced him to go on, he’d royally screwed himself, and her, and that was not at all something he counted as a check mark in his plus column of ‘fun times.’ 

That one was… 

There were no words for that, other than to say, he’d really fallen off the deep end by thinking that was a viable option to end his loneliness.

The usual sickness pooling in his gut as he pushed those memories down as far as he could, Five’s shoulder rapidly jerked, the evidence of his tick impossible to hide. 

“I hate you for this,” he grumbled at Klaus, but he didn’t really mean it. He really hated himself.

Thankfully that, like usual, Klaus didn’t seem to notice how miserable he was, Five followed his line of sight, taking in a very attractive female passenger that was getting out of the car ahead of him.

You were dressed in a 1950’s style, polka dot mini dress, the top a tight corset that accentuated your breasts in a way that wasn’t at all hard on the eyes. Your hair was done up in old-fashioned victory style curls, making you the quintessential damsel in distress in all the old black and white horror movies. All you needed to do to complete the look was put your hands to your face and scream in terror as the hungry zombies surrounded you.

Looking confused and a lot like you might be about to freak out like that, Five watched you come around to the trunk, escorted by a guy who was dressed in what he could only figure had to be a Swamp Thing costume.

Swamp guy popped the trunk open.

Your eyes met Five’s for a fraction of a second. Next to him, Klaus was waving at you with a big goofy grin, and the next thing you knew, you were being flipped up, ass over tea kettle, your heels dangling out of the back-end of the car as your green friend hopped inside with you, shutting the hatch.

What was going on? And why did that hot guy who was glaring at you from the driver seat of that Corvette look exactly like the fictional character Five Hargreeves from the Umbrella Academy!!! And was that Klaus?

These were your thoughts, those and- 

“Get your foot out of my face,” you yelled at your friend as the car lurched forward, to which he only laughed even more because he was clearly high and smelled like it too.

“What the hell is going on?” you shouted, assuming you had to be high out of your mind too, even though you didn’t remember smoking anything.

“Shush-sshhhhh! You’re gonna get us busted,” your buddy sputtered, still giggling as your other friends talked to the cashier, buying their tickets. As the car moved forward, your trunk mate said, “It wouldn’t be a night going to the drive-in unless someone sneaks in, duh...”

“What are you twelve?” you shot back, to which you got nothing but more wafts of sweaty weed scented swamp monster costume and more foot in your face.

How in the hell did you get here, in a trunk of all places?

The last thing you remembered, you were sitting on your couch, watching TV, lounging in your grungy old pajamas that weren’t fit for going to Walmart. You definitely weren’t a kid anymore, and Five and Klaus weren’t real people, but like the rest of this, here you were, and you were sure it was them.

After bumping along in the pitch dark, the car came to a stop, the hood popping open. Crawling out, you took a deep breath, looking all around you. The lot was filled up with loads of vehicles, music playing loudly from many of them. The party had clearly begun, only you hadn’t realized you were going to it until just now.

Hazy rays from the last light of day streamed through the open field. You were near the back of the action, farthest from the big white screen looming over the field.

“Brains…yummy!”

Whirling around, a guy with a gruesome bite mark in his head came running past, chasing a trampy looking vampire with huge boobs spilling out of her Eliva costume.

Coming to a stop, he backpedaled, heading your way. The zombie’s whiteout contacts creepily moved, taking you in from head to toe. His lips pulled to the side as he nodded his approval. “Now that is the kind of sugar I could really sink my teeth into.” 

“I don’t think so buddy,” you said, stepping out of his reach as you continued searching for that blue sports car and its mysterious occupants.

You didn’t have to look far, because with nowhere else to park, the Five look-alike you’d spotted at the gate had already driven past, parking in the last row, right behind you.

Fascinated, you watched the two fictional superheroes having what looked like a very characteristic, Hargreeves style argument. You weren’t sure who was winning, but slamming the door, the young man in a familiar three-piece suit got out, stormed off, hands jammed in his pockets, looking just like the grumpy old man child from your favorite show. 

His dark hair hung in his eyes, his shoulders hunched in their usual way, his posture appeared to be one of deep thought and frustration as he approached the concessions.

This was all so weird.

Already horsing around, your friends paid no attention when you wandered into the crowd filled with the walking dead and other monsters that were busy acting all sorts of stupid.

Approaching your favorite fictional teleporter as he stood in line, you said nothing. You were sure this was some kind of joke, because he looked like a perfect match to the season four version of Five Hargreeves, scruffy emo hairdo and all, yet no one else around you seemed to realize they are standing next to someone significant. 

He rocked back on the heels of his shiny dress shoes, his eyes scanning the little black letters on the menu board.

“Can I help you,” he asked, apparently aware you were drooling over him even though he hadn’t even turned your way.

Your face instantly flushed, and then it got even hotter when he did face you, raising his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. 

“Ah….”

“Or maybe I should arrest you and your Swamp Thing sidekick back there?” he tartly offered. 

“What! Why? For what?” you stammered, getting more flustered the longer he tried to incinerate you with his pale green eyes.

“You didn’t pay to get in,” he smugly informed you, like you didn’t already know that. 

Taking it one further, he flipped open his suit coat, flashing you his hoity-toity CIA badge.

Wow, he was being an arrogant ass wipe, just like you would have expected him to be. 

Okay…. 

Two can play this game. You did have a bone to pick with him.

“Not paying to get into the drive-in movies is all a part of being young and dumb,” you countered, “but I suppose old shitheads parading around as tight assed, kid sized CIA agents, will never know what it means to let loose like that, and you don’t really want to anyway, otherwise you would have started really living your life before all hell broke loose with that Bennifer blob thing.”

Five’s jaw fish gaped, but you weren’t done with him. 

“Maybe if you’d had done something fun before all that, then you wouldn’t have given up on life and then got stuck with your sister-in-law, playing lovey-dovey possessive strawberry grower with her.” Holding your ground, you put your hands on your hips while shaking your head at him. “You’d been through way worse and that shit show and not given up, and that was not a win for anyone.”

Now your face wasn’t the only one getting red. “How did you-” You rolled your eyes because he was too cute. 

Suddenly, not being cute, before you could order your Milk Duds and buttered popcorn, Five latched onto your arm, spinning you around.

“Hey! Let go!” you snapped as he dragged you out of the musty cinder block concession building.

Insects buzzing as they swarmed the neon Sugar Shack sign above your heads, Five shoved you up against the side of the building, pinning you with his glare and his hands fingers rudely digging into your upper arms.

“How did you know about that?” he snarled. “Nobody knows about that! I reversed it and I nearly died doing it!”

“Well…” You glanced around. “I guess you did, and obviously found a way to save the world, but that Frankenstein guy that’s coming this way looks like he’s going to use his inhuman strength to break your face if you don’t back off, so if you want to keep living, I suggest you let go like I said.”

It dawned on him that he was drawing unwanted attention, so Five stepped back, raking his hand through his hair, making himself look even more bat shit crazy.

He was losing it, but fuck him, so were you.

You opened our mouth to answer the question of why you knew all this about him, but Five didn’t let you get it out.

“Are you with The Commission?” he growled. 

His eyes darted around, stopping on a group of werewolves walking by. He looked terrified, like they were going to suddenly pull a gun on him, or even worse, pull a gigantic black briefcase out from behind their backs, then chuck him into a portal destined for a place where he’d be forced into another round of murderous servitude. 

Like how you felt every time while watching Five struggling on the show, no matter how demented he was acting, all you wanted to do was lift him right out of there and save him from all of it.

“No. I am not with The Commission,” you replied, calmly as possible. “I am just a normal girl who last I knew was living in the normal real world. Now, I am not so sure what is going on.” 

You held up your hands in a placating gesture, like you were trying to calm a ferocious man beast, which wasn’t too far off, except Five looked more like a miniature wolf of Wall Street who was about to bite your head off.

“See… No guns or anything else nefarious here,” you joked.

Five looked dumbstruck, so twirling around, you pulled at the billowing folds of your bouncy skirt, showing him that you didn’t even have any pockets in your old-timey, Dolores-ish, girly-girl get-up. 

He didn’t look any less worried, and all of a sudden, for some reason, the thought of flashing him seemed like a brilliant idea.

You weren’t hiding anything under your skirt that was out to get him so…

Huh…. 

Maybe you should just slap him silly to set him straight? That sounded pretty great too.

Again, you had to wonder if you’d been drugged because this was all on par with a very Wizard of Oz kind of acid trip, your lack of undergarments included.

The warm air wafting up your skirt providing no clarity as it tickled your lady parts, holding up your arm, you pinched yourself.

“That hurt,” you noted, and that observation only made Five look even more like he was going to go nuts on you.

You scrunched your lips to the side, tapping your chin. 

If Five reversed all the stuff from season 4, and then saved the world, and he clearly didn’t die… 

“Hmmm,” you hummed. 

There was so much potential here, and as crazy as it was, with each minute that passed, the idea of running with this fantasy you were having sounded better and better.

You smiled and said, “I know all that stuff about you because I know all about you, Five, I’m the daddy here Hargreeves. I know about your family, your powers, and Dolores…” 

Your grin grew as you thought about Five feeling up the air during his romantic reunion with his mannequin turned real in season 3. 

“Is this handsome young man bothering you, miss?” Klaus questioned, his voice sing-songy as he came around the corner with several of your friends. Stopping next to his brother, he raised a brow at you. “If Five is being a pest, I am happy to make him go sit in the car. He needs a timeout from time to time or the little guy gets all nippy. It’s sort of his thing, especially when he hasn’t had his nap.”

“Fuck off, Klaus,” Five hissed, still standing between you and them, not letting you get away.

“No really,” Klaus laughed, his eyes moving from his brother to you. “It’s so good to see you again. It’s been too long, and look, you finally get to meet my favorite little brother. I told you he’d be all over you the second he laid eyes on you.” 

Klaus formally introduced you, but Five did not accept your extended hand.

“You know each other?” he questioned, looking at Klaus, then to you with narrowed eyes.

“Oh, yeah. We go way back.” Klaus shrugged like this was common knowledge, which it wasn’t, not to you anyway.

Pulling you by your arm, his face coming so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath flooding down your neck, Five quietly said, “He told you about me.”

It wasn’t really a question, and with the bizarre situation unfolding, you felt it best to let him think that.

“You guys want anything?” Klaus questioned, already heading around the building to join the line that was now about a mile long.

“I- I- Sure,” you answered, with Five already stomping off into the dark, leaving you not sure which one looked scarier or sadder out there lurking, him, or the rubbery looking guy dressed like the creature from the Black Lagoon. 

After about an hour into the first creature feature, you were sure of two things. 

One. Klaus was without a doubt the Klaus you had always loved on The Umbrella Academy. His pleather covered legs were kicked out in front of him as he sat next to you, the blanket under your butts keeping you dry from the dewy grass. He was hanging out, having a blast.

Two. Five was slumped in the driver seat of his car, with the driver’s side window rolled up and the leather rag top over his head, sitting there like he was trying to shut out the world. 

He was pretending to be transfixed by the plot unfolding high up on the flickering screen, but he was failing. He still looked like he was going to postal on everyone, and you were sure that being trapped at a drive-in with a bunch of people dressed like rotting corpses wasn’t helping.

Glancing back, each time you caught him looking at you, he’d averted his eyes, looking as vexed by Nosferatu’s ugly mug as he was by your face.

Five didn’t want people to know what had really happened, and you couldn’t blame him for that. You knew his secret and you’d called him out on it, so obviously that meant you were someone he wanted to make disappear.

You really, really didn’t want to end up running through the woods with an temporal assassin coming after you with a fire ax, but every time you tried to wave him over, he wasn’t having it.

You had to fix this, even if you were hallucinating this whole thing. You may have been mad at Five, and the entire season four plot line, but it wasn’t his fault that the writer’s and Steve Blackman were short sighted idiots.

You hopped up, heading his way, your heels not functioning on the soft ground, sunk in as you walked, making you look like a clumsy moron which was not the look you were going for.

The closer you got, the dumber you felt, and the more tense Five looked. 

Dropping your elbows on the threshold of the open passenger side window, to hide your embarrassment, you smiled your best flirty smile. “So… Other than yourself and other people, can you blink things from one location to another, like this car?” you questioned. “I think I heard about this super cool stapler thing you did once, but I didn’t really understand how you did that. Will you show me?” 

Five merely looked at you, stone faced, jaw hard, not taking the bait.

“I am going with you not being able to blink things that big,” you answered for him. “Otherwise, you would have been long gone by now.”

He still refused to speak to you. 

“This really is a nice car. I wouldn’t abandon it either,” you furthered while handing him a giant-sized Fudge Nutter. 

After a few seconds, he took it. His fingers twiddled the unopened candy bar, his was still suspicion plain as day in his stormy eyes, only not quite as tempestuous as it was before. “I never told Klaus about the subway…and he shouldn’t remember what happened with any of that anyway because I reversed the timeline and changed all this bullshit. It never happened.”

You opened the door and sat down next to him.

“I did not say you could join me,” he huffed, getting even more adorably pissed.

“Relax. Klaus doesn’t remember telling me that stuff because he was drunk when he told me about it. And the reason you don’t remember telling him about that mess is because you were drunk when you told him,” you lied.

Five sucked in his lower lip, clearly thinking about that, and the fact that it was highly plausible he’d drunkenly spilled his guts since he wasn’t the best at holding his liquor.

“So…” you continued. “Consider it a closed loop of things nobody wants to think or talk about, including me. I just unleashed on you out there about it because you were being such an asshole. Believe it or not, I still think you are amazing.”

Five looked down at his hands, a small smile tugging his mouth to the side. “I was just moving through life, going through the motions that normal people are supposed to do. I had a chance to start fresh and I blew. You were right about that, and me being an asshole.”

Not sure what to say back to that, a silence resumed, other than the screeches of the vampires’ victims quietly filling his classic car’s small speakers.

Five cleared his throat as he looked over at you again. “Why are you here? Aside from what you said about thinking I am amazing, I mean.”

He grinned, his dimple coming out to render you as speechless.

The longer Five had to wait for you to answer, the cockier he looked, and the more you wanted to jump his bones, or maybe smack him. At that point, you still weren’t sure which would better.

“I don’t belong here. I think you can see that, but…”  You stopped. There was no way you could tell him that his world was based on a comic book because at this point you had no fucking clue if that was true or not. “But…I am here whether it makes sense or not, and you know what?”

“What?”

“I think it’s for a reason, and that’s because I wanted to be here with you.”

“Why?” he pushed.

“Because. It makes me happy to see you finally get the car that you always wanted. I want to see you have good things in your life, Five.”

He said nothing.

“Are you happy?” you questioned.

He gave you a blank look. “Sure. I am happy when you look at happiness relative to the years of me sleeping on the ground, eating bugs, constantly fighting for my life and everyone else's, everyday living in a nightmare.”

His chin dropped as he shook his head.

“My life is, and I fear always will be, pretty fucked up,” he said, followed by a self-depreciating laugh. 

You moved over just a little closer, your hand gingerly touching his, and to your surprise, Five took it, his fingers tangling with yours in a way that showed how desperate he was.

You didn't say a word, but you did scooch closer, and immediately Five opened himself to your advance, pulling you against him in an embrace that you were not at all expecting. 

He breathed in the smell of your hair, then pulled back again. His face melting into a soft smile, but then just as fast, his face contorted, his brows furrowing as he shut his eyes as if in pain.

“I am sick of all the death and the killing and the pain. I don’t want to be a part of that, I never did. I didn’t want any of this to happen.” 

His fingers balled up in his palm, but you refused to let go of the hand.

“Five, look at me.”

Opening his eyes, he whispered, “I did so much of this to myself and to so many others. All I do is hurt people.”

“That is not true. You are not a bad person. You did what you had to, and you've never been wrong for feeling the way you have about any of it. Don’t let yourself think any differently. That’s how you got into this mess. You may have reached for love in the wrong place, and that got burned, but this isn’t over. The Five Hargreeves I know never gives up.”

“I don’t know how to move on.”

You brought his hand to your mouth, running your lips across his knuckles, then flipping it over, you kissed the inside of his wrist, lingering where his umbrella tattoo had been. 

His voice cracked. “I can’t forget. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“Maybe not, but you can start over, and replace all the bad with something good,” you assured, your words warm against his skin, each pass of your lips, accepting all of him, the good and the bad.

He looked so broken, but maybe this was just what he needed. 

Shifting in your seat, you pressed your mouth to his, and it was as if in that one gentle brush of your lips on his, time stood still.

You could have stayed like that next to Five forever, just softly kissing him, playing with the fluffy ends of his hair, letting him take all the time he needed to come out of the hate filled place he was in, but after a while, he began to pull his arm out from behind you, but it was only so he could shift your body over onto his lap. 

It was as if he held some kind of otherworldly power over you. Before you knew it, your legs were straddling him, your back against his steering wheel.

Looking into his eyes when he breathlessly broke your kiss, there was no way you could deny him, especially with that crease of concern finding its way back, marking his face with worry. Wanting to erase it and all the things haunting him, you started massaging the deep knots of tension out of his shoulders.

You pressed a kiss to his slightly parted lips even before he could breathe his first sigh of relief. Tongue swirling around with his, your hands moved down his chest, lightly exploring the dips and curves hiding under all his layers of clothing. 

Feeling him tensing again, you brought your hand up to his cheek. Surprising you again, Five submissively tipped his face into your palm, closing his eyes, surrendering as you delicately ran your lips across his troubled brow. 

“Just let it all go, Five,” you soothed. “It’s time to be young and stupid for once.”

He started laughing. His chest lifted and fell with a few shaky breaths, then he slowly sighed. Silently appreciating what you were doing, he rolled his head back into his seat.

Looking very relaxed, he cracked open one eye. He smiled that unbelievably handsome smile. Unable to help it, you traced a line along the narrow bridge of his nose, pulling your finger away just as he tried to take a bite out of it.

“Klaus was right.” Looking like he was about to devour you, Five smirked. “I do get nippy when I don’t get my nap. Sorry.”

Those compassionate eyes that could convey so much sorrow looked so full of hope as his gaze flicked down so he could check out how high your skirt had ridden up on your thighs.

Wanting to get him really riled up, you brought your hands back to his chest, unbuttoning first his vest, and then dress shirt. Once you had them opened, and his tie flung back over his head, you moved your palms over his hot skin, heading down, gingerly teasing the bunched-up fabric covering his crotch.

Five let out a long, slow breath, his eyelids slowly drooping closed as he smiled.

“I guess daddy likes that,” you taunted, touching him softly, your hand running back and forth.

He started laughing “You did not just say that while playing with my dick?”

“Yes. Yes, I did,” you laughed back, “and you know you liked it.”

Getting more into it, Five started rutted himself upwards.

He looked so beautiful getting hard in your hand, his words throaty and desperate. “Please don’t stop.”

With a quick glance, you confirmed the cars parked next to you were still empty.

You lowered yourself as much as you could, pressing kisses to his neck, then his shoulder as your hand kept at it, bringing him to his full potential. 

The hand Five originally had held against the small of your back started sliding up, his fingers digging at the clasps holding up your top. He couldn't figure it out, and really, it was probably better that he didn’t. Giving up, he captured your lips again and his kisses that started painfully sweet, quickly intensified as he drifted his hands down, latching them on your ass. His long, strong fingers cupped you, pulling your groin up against the erection trying to rip through his pants.

Pulling your lower lip between his, Five moaned like you were killing him, then he let go. “I think I just died and went to heaven because you aren’t wearing any panties,” he humorously declared.

That got you laughing again, and him covering your neck with nuzzled kisses. Locking a hand in your hair, he started assertively thrusting himself between your legs.

It wasn’t fair to let him do all the work, so you responded by eagerly working your hips, round and round, giving him the lap dance he was evidently craving.

“I am so lucky you don’t care how fucked up I am,” he groaned.

He bent in placing a path of kisses along your jaw while giving your hair another firm tug that had your head automatically dropping back.

Having full access to the side of your neck, Five took advantage, tearing into you like the vampire on screen, only with bites meant to mark you, not maim you.

All you could do was moan as he went wild, but in a brief moment where your brain kicked back on, you managed to reach down, reclining the seat. Then you pushed Five down, doing some of your own marking when your fingernails slid across his chest, leaving red lines across his pale skin.

Having fallen back against the newly adjusted seat, Five’s eyes closed, and his head rolled to the side. He rocked his hips faster, his hands forcing your body to move with his. “I am going to destroy you,” he panted.

When your tongue glided across his pecks, stopping to make a quick flick to one of his little nubs of flesh, he let out a hissing sound, his body involuntarily arching off his seat as his eyes flew open.

Not at all done fucking with him, you slid down, your butt ramming his steering wheel as you hand moved to his pants, unzipping him.

Five’s cock twitched as your fingers wrapped around its girth. When the weakest sound crept out of his throat, you get even wetter.

He exhaled with what looked like a painstaking effort as you started stroking him. “Fuck, yes.” He moved his hand over yours, tightening it over your fingers. 

There wasn’t a hint of modesty in Five’s exquisitely lustful expression as he writhed under you, and that only made him, and you helping him jerk off all the hotter.

He moved your hand up and down in sweeping motions, but not long after he started doing it, his fingers began crushing yours, urging you to grasp him much firmer than you would have without his assistance. 

The way he was going at it, it was like he wanted it to hurt. He moved your hands in sharp, vicious jerks.

He bit back an angry verbalization of unintelligible profanity, his shaft sliding faster as precum seeped out of him, spreading along his length. 

You thought he was looking for a quick release, but then, he stilled your hand. His hand trembled against yours as he peered up at you. “You really want this? With Me?”

“Yes.” You’d never been so sure of anything in your life.

His breathing changed, slowing down again, but only until you dared to tease the swollen head of his cock with your thumb, swirling it around and around. To that, Five let out a breathless chuckle, arching his back as he bucked his hips. 

He only let you get away with that teasing for about two seconds before he brought his hands under your bottom, urging you to rub your slippery heat against his hard length, helping you both get off.

“Oh, fuck this feels so good,” he groaned as he moved you back, urging you to raise up on your knees so he could move his hand between your legs.

Flipping your skirt out of the way, his fingers played along the invisible line where your underwear should have been, but he stopped there. “Can I?” he asked.

Nodding your consent, you said, “Five, you can do me any way you want.”

Hearing that, something in him seemed to come undone.

He started determinedly rubbing your folds, mesmerized by the glistening of your desire as it coated his fingers. He was enjoying doing that to you so much, more precum seeped from him onto his torso. Slowly and gently, he used his thumb in a circular motion, stimulating your clit while he carefully eased his index finger inside you.

“God damn, you are so tight,” he panted.

With the sexiest look of distress on his face, Five reached into his pants pocket, fishing out first his wallet, then a condom. He feverishly ripped open the small square package with his bared teeth while pulling his fingers from inside you at the same time so he could grip his cock in hand and roll the rubber down over his shaft. 

Even doing that had him cursing and the look of madness in his eyes had you quivering in anticipation.

“You need to lead this,” he warned.

He lined himself up and you began to lower your body over him, but as his swollen glans pushed up into you, your body reactively tightened against him, your own excitement working to deny itself. The size and fit issue you were having, and the look on your face about it, earned another breathy hiss from him.

Taking his hands off you completely, Five grasped at his seat, trying his best to remain still and let you take him at your pace.

Balancing yourself with your palm pressed against the window, you resolutely held his cock in your other hand, lowering yourself onto him again. 

Again, your body fought it. Your teeth studded into your bottom lip. With small movements, your hand noisily squeaking down the steamy glass, you were eventually able to sink all the way down, and the success of that was met with your both letting out obscene sounds of relief.

Your eyes crashed shut from the overwhelming sensation of taking in all of him. And it only got better when his hands claimed your breasts and he simultaneously dug his heels into the floor and lifted his hips.

You cried out as Five bottomed out. Pleasure and pain ripped through you, your entire body tightening around him.

You clutched his shoulders, your fingernails clawing into his tensed bands of muscle.

“Feels so-fffuck. Thank you for ffuck,” Five brainlessly panted.

You cried out again when, undaunted by your crushed expression or his inability to speak, he grasped your hips and coaxed you to move up and down, meeting you halfway. His needy thrusts were coming at you vigorously, the strength behind them like it was out of his control.

Your delirious cries as Five fucked himself up into you were beyond your ability to contain. You were unable to do anything other than paw at him as his feet slipped and dug against his floor, desperately searching for more leverage to grind his cock deeper than it already was.

Just when you were sort of getting used to this, Five changed pace and began rolling his hips as best he could while his butt was squashed down in the crook of his seat. The rhythm suited him, his body looking so fucking hot underneath you that only further blew your mind.

His rock-hard dick was stretching you to the point you couldn’t see straight. You were so wet from feeling every inch of him prodding and pulling at your insides, your whimpers were quickly becoming broken moans.

Holding you from going down on him all the way, the sensation of his delicious tip shallowly moving in and out just right, he smiled deviously. “You are mine from here on out. No matter what. Tell me you want that as much as I do.”

“I want this,” you repeated, bouncing on his dick to pull yourself over the edge.

Your world was suddenly getting very small. There was nothing but that sweet tension of him filling in, that delicious coil inside you unraveling, and the simple pleasure of him giving himself to you.

When you least expected it, that was when Five gave your ass a stinging slap, then he moved his hand back into play, circling the tips of his fingers against your clit, extra hard.

“Hey, Five?” Klaus said as he came up to the passenger side of the car. 

“Get out of here!” Five yelled.

“Whoospsie. Sorry, guys.” Laughing, Klaus did an about face, but you could still here him talking. “Nothing to see here people, just move along…yeah, the view is much better over there, and the weed is too.”

“Shhhh- Shhh-it,” you sputtered.

You were on fire, your thighs burning. Everything was coming to a head. Fighting to keep your eyes open, you started to shudder. Five started thrusting deeply again, forcing the breath out of you as his feet kicked down on the floor and his knees repeatedly slammed up against the steering wheel.

Pieces of his gorgeously wild hair fell into his eyes as he lay there with a fucked out smile, his forehead a sheen of shimmery sweat. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock,” he encouraged, giving you the ride of your life.

Unable to stay upright, your body toppled over the edge and tumbled down against him, your forehead falling against his shoulder. “Fivvvv- gah..ah, ah-” Orgasm slamming into you, you couldn’t move your hips anymore, let alone talk, but that didn’t stop Five.

Puffing air through clenched teeth, he kept pumping his cock up into you, so you could get the benefit of each and every wave of your shattering release.

“Mmmmfff, Fiiii-vvve, fffuc—uck,” you cried as his fingers dug into your waist, forcing you up and down, even after you’d gone limp as a rag doll flopped on top of him.

“I need to move,” he suddenly gasped.

You didn’t get it. He was moving.

Before you could associate the feeling of static building with his power coming to life, the humid air around you lit up the darkened car and everything around it. There was a sizzling, then a sharp loud crack, like the sound of him slapping your ass. A second later, only after Five did actually slap your ass again, carrying you in his arms, he set you down, sitting your bottom on the trunk of his car.

Your high heels fell off, hitting the ground next to his feet. Legs dangling around his hips, he nestled deep between your legs, his shirt wide open and his pants slipping down to his knees. 

In a dazed state of post orgasmic bliss, his dick still in you, your was head spinning.

There were woods on both sides of you, and you appeared to be parked in the middle of a road. There were the faintest sounds of people in the distance. You could be near the drive-in still, but then again, maybe not.

“Where are we,” you asked, frantically looking all around. It was so dark, you could hardly see anything.

“Don’t worry, you're safe,” Five replied in a way of explanation while smiling so boyishly innocently. “And to answer your question about me blinking larger things than myself. Size wise, my dick is pretty awesome, and it’s no simple task lugging it around through time and space, but you wanted to see what I could really do, so I decided to go full delivery boy for you. Took me over 69 years, but I have it all figured out now.” 

“Oh, my God, I think I love you,” you laughed.

“I think I could love you too,” Five concurred, bending in, his next words coming out with each gentle thrust that matched the cadence in-between his equally soft kisses. “Everyday. Just. Like. This.”

His hands moved up your back, the tickle of his fingers making you shiver. The bottoms of your bare feet pressing down on the car’s bumper, his mouth found its way to your collar bone where he started methodically moving his lip along the crest of it, licking and nipping as he undid the clasps on your shirt, this time getting it on his first try.

The cotton bodice slipped off your arms and he stopped everything so he could admire you. “So beautiful,” he said, then forcefully slid your bottom across the trunk until he was buried full deep, pressing you to his chest.

Clinging to his shoulders, you whimpered.

“Laydown,” Five breathed. “I want to see all of you.”

With the firm direction of his hands pressing you down, you did as he wanted, easing back against the trunk.

Taking you under the knees, flipping your skirt up and your legs over his arms, Five pulled your hips out away from the car, giving himself more command over your body. 

Almost right way, his eyes rolled back in his head as began to fuck you, pulling himself all the way out before slamming back in. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he groaned, fighting to see straight.

His feet dug into the gravel under his shoes, his hands yanking your ass towards him as he drove himself faster, his pelvis smacking into you with the sound of hot and sweaty flesh on flesh. The faster he snapped his hips, the more you felt like you were falling even though you weren't. Your hands scrambled for purchase, looking for anything to hold onto on the slippery trunk, but all you found as you grasped was slick blue paint. 

“I fucking love fucking you,” Five grunted, fucking you faster and faster.

Again, your body was on the verge of pain and pleasure from how aggressively he was going at it, but as he lost himself, the rope inside you slipped out of your hold, the freefall pushing you to climax again. 

You slipped forward, sure the rest of your body was going to slip off the trunk and hit the ground, but Five didn’t let up.

“Five! My-yyah-hahh, Fiv-ffff-help-ffffuck!” 

His hips rapidly thwacked, his breathy grunts coming faster.

“I-I’ve got you,” he sputtered, his body fighting to keep moving, his eyes fighting to stay open.

He was shaking in a violent stream of tremors, and even with the condom on, you could feel his release throbbing spurts of his seed deep inside you. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuccck!” he gasped as his hips moved. His chest heaved with every intake of breath, pained sounds clawing out of him when he exhaled. 

His movements started to lack any pattern, and a profound and satisfied form of relaxation washed over you as he slowed. He dreamily gazed down at you like he was going to pass out.

Looking like he had hardly the energy to do it, balancing your one leg hooked around his arm, Five took himself in hand, gently as possible pulling out of you. 

“Oh my God,” you gasped, as your body spasmed a few more times.

Moving along, Five flung off the heavy rubber he’d filled, tossing it in the ditch, then he readjusted your boneless body, pulling you up next to him so he could kiss you, over and over, whispering unbelievably sweet words and not all of them in English.

With a fraction of space between your lips, he said your name. “...., Thanks to you, I think I finally learned my lesson. It’s time to start living life on my own terms.”

His lips curled in a very curious way that immediately had you wondering what he could be up to now. 

Lifting you, he shuffled back at step, trying not to trip on his pants. Reaching out, you heard the sound of his trunk popping open, then he dumped you inside. 

Stunned, you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Wha-”

“Ah-Ah-Ah, sweetheart,” he menacingly sang while twirling the shoulder strap of your top around his finger. “I’m not letting you get away. You're mine now, remember.”

The darkness started closing in around you. “Five!” you screeched.

“I'm just kidding.” He chuckled at you. “They call me a psycho for good reason, but I am not the put you in my trunk kind of psycho,” he teased, while pulling you back to him. Just as he was about to kiss you, you started to fall.

Your ass hit the floor in front of your couch.

Rapidly blinking, your hair tangled in front of your face, you looked over at your TV. 

H. J. Well’s ‘The invisible Man’ was playing. The doctor who went mad with power, turned villain on a murder spree, was standing there in his black suit with his silly white bandages wrapped around his face. Even though you couldn’t see them, you could sense his empty eyes staring back at the blonde beauty next to him. All he longed for was to go back to before he’d ruined everything. All he wanted was to be loved.

Your chest started shaking with your laughter and your eyes misted over.

Five was gone. 

It was all a dream, a very real and very wet dream based on the feel of your underwear.

Five was never there, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t feel him. He was real in your mind, and just like he’d said, no matter what, he was yours. His story was whatever you wanted it to be, and nobody, not even a botched season finale would make you stop loving him.

With you, he could live on forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Thank you for all the nice requests, guys. I can't do them all, but I do my best with the ones I take on. I hope you liked this one and the idea in it can help heal your own s4 broken hearts. I know that it helps me to rewrite Five's story, time and time again.

And yes. I totally have snuck into a drive-in in the trunk of a car with my friend's foot in my face, and I have done all sorts of inappropriate things in cars while I was supposed to be watching the big screen. Being young and dumb is wonderful, and everyone needs at least a few adventures that don't end with the world ceasing to exist. Just don't get caught. 😜

Cheers lovelies. ❤️ Till next time.

Link to view all my Tumblr story and art posts

Link to my Five centric master list

Link to visit me direct on A03

[cybershock24601]

The Rookanis brainworms got me again bc I’ve gone from wouldn’t it be funny if my Rook and Lucanis crossed paths for a moment before Veilguard and never realized it to formulating a whole au where Rook and Lucanis had a long distance friendship that just started to turn into something more right before Rook gets kicked out of the mourn watch and Lucanis gets stuck in the Ossuary. Rook writes like three letters to try and make extra sure that Lucanis knows what happened and that she’s going to be traveling and likely won’t be able to get any letters but she will write when she’s able to so she’s not super concerned when she doesn’t hear anything from him even if she does have a lot of anxiety about the situation she’s doing her best to bury because sure they’re both busy but surely Lucanis would try to get at least one letter to her, she did tell him that he could always leave a message with Myrna and Vorgoth to pass on, why hasn’t he sent her anything??

Meanwhile Lucanis is imprisoned in the Ossuary and all of Watcher Rook’s babbling about spirits had made it easier to deal with Spite but it’s still a very shitty situation. Spite’s probably even more fixated on Rook in this au because Lucanis wants to get out for a lot of reasons and see his family too but Rook’s probably the only person Lucanis wants to see again that he doesn’t have a lot of complicated emotions about because sure the whole long distance thing isn’t a neat situation, Rook doesn’t come with the same sort of emotional baggage Caterina and Illario have.

Anyways, the events of Veilguard happen and Neve suggests they go recruit the Demon of Vyrantium and Rook’s like sure and hopes that while in Antiva she might get a chance to track down her wayward crow. Rook does not know that the famed Demon of Vyrantium is her crow because it’s not like Lucanis ever really told her exactly who he was in the Crows. Rook knew he was a crow, had a complicated relationship with his grandma and cousin, and that Lucanis tended to play a lot of things close to the chest but seeing as Rook is also from a pretty secretive organization, she was never really that bothered by it because it’s not like she doesn’t have her own secrets to keep. Rook may like Lucanis but it’s not like she’s going to be spilling the secrets of the Necropolis to him and assumes Lucanis is dealing with the same thing which for the most part is true. It’s also that Lucanis liked just being Lucanis with Rook rather than Lucanis Dellamorte, the Demon of Vyrantium and didn’t want things to change with Rook if he told her about what exactly his position in the Crows was. Honestly Rook probably wouldn’t have cared that much beyond hitting him with a ‘that’s rough buddy’ and probably encouraging him to try to say no to his grandmother more. (“Have you tried telling her no? It’s just two letters. One syllable. It shouldn’t be that hard to say!”)

Which is a good thing because when Rook goes to meet with the Crows she’s starting to put the pieces together pretty quickly about who Lucanis is to the crows once she meets the talons + Illario and is doing her best to play it cool. Rook’s attempts at composure are not helped by being hit with the double whammy of her kinda boyfriend is dead no wait actually he’s alive he’s just been in the hands of the Venitori for a year. Which is totally not going to give Rook a guilt complex about the fact that her bf has been presumed dead for year and Rook didn’t even know.

Neve and Harding who came along to recruit their assassin (because this is my au and I can have a four person party if I want) are definitely noticing something is up but don’t get a chance to pump answers out an unusually quiet Rook (a quiet Rook is never a good sign) before they find Lucanis and are witness to the most emotionally charged yet emotionally stunted reunion they’ve ever seen. Neve and Harding are definitely trading glances between them like ‘are you seeing this shit?!’ as Rook and Lucanis have the most awkward reunion ever.

Rook is dealing with a lot of new information at once and a lot of guilt over the fact that she didn’t know her boyfriend was supposedly dead and had just been worried that maybe he didn’t like her anymore and would she ever have even found out what happened to Lucanis if she didn’t need his help to kill some ancient eleven gods? She’s even more guilty about the fact that he’s been trapped and tortured for a whole year and again Rook did not know!

Lucanis on the other hand is increadibly surprised to see Rook of all people in the Ossuary and almost thinks it’s some sort of dream that’s she’s in here rescuing him because how many times has he imagined something like that? He’s also dealing with a Spite who’s extra determined to talk to Rook and also the whole fact that he’s an abomination now and has a lot of feelings about that.

The first exchange between these two lovers goes something like this “you have a beard now. it looks.. nice.” “thank you? I didn’t really have a chance to shave in here” “that makes sense” cue awkward silence. Luckily Neve and Harding are there to get things back on track. Somewhat.

Anyways, the slow burn of the canon rookanis romance becomes two people learning to reconnect and navigate a very complex tangle of emotions after everything that happened in their year apart. Might write a fic about all this but I needed to get my idea out in the world one way or another.

Other au highlights include:

Rook and Lucanis met because Lucanis had to assassinate a mortalitasi and is sneaking in through the garden while Rook is there decompressing after dealing with the asshole and they both freeze. Lucanis is trying to decided whether he has to kill her and Rook just goes “guy you’re looking for is two floors up and three rooms to the right. good luck” Lucanis is like why are helping me to which Rook responds “this is the fourth time in as many weeks I’ve had to come deliver the same letter of censure to this guy for trying to supersede the royal charter and have to take time out of my day to come out here one more time I’m going start biting people. you’d really just be doing a public service getting rid of this guy”

Lucanis is the reason Rook switched to fighting with an arcane orb rather than a more traditional staff and helped her a lot with close quarters combat. He also gifted her a spellblade and was almost surprised that giving someone a knife worked.

The knife also tipped off Caterina that whoever this rando showing up to ask the Crows for help has some connection to Lucanis because of course Caterina would recognize the work of her grandson’s favorite blacksmith.

Illario only found out his cousin was involved with someone after Lucanis “died” and ended up going through his things because sure Illario might have ordered his death but that doesn’t mean he can’t be sad about it. Hidden under the floorboards is a small elegant lockbox filled with letters and a wyvern tooth dagger and Illario had a whole lot of feelings reading them and the slow transition from letters to love letters. Illario doesn’t realize it’s Rook though because Rook wasn’t going by Rook back then and was signing her letters with her government name.

[idciminlove]

Take a Slice

Part Five - Casual

f!reader x Tashi Duncan x Art Donaldson x Patrick Zweig

Cinnamonacid on AO3

Warnings- arguments, angst, jealous Tashi, situationship struggles, homoerotic friendship struggles, etc.

You have to deal with making some difficult choices.

Song inspo: Casual- Chappel Roan

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Art paced around the living room, anxious and angry. Tashi stood and watched him, her arms folded, while Patrick sat on the couch. “Wanting to train her professionally? I thought we agreed to put our family first after Patrick retired. I thought you were happy with training the girls at the foundation.”

Tashi sighed. “I am.”

“Clearly, you’re not. It’s never enough for you, is it? What if she said yes, huh? Would you go on tour with her? Lily’s too old for that. She needs stability.”

“What, you think I would just run off with her? She’s not even ready to go on tour yet. She would just be a side project. I’d start off training her twice a week, when I wasn’t working at the foundation, and once she started showing improvement, things would get more serious. I know what I’m doing, Art. You know I love you, and Lily, and Patrick. I take care of our family and the both of you just fine. You need to trust me.” She remarked.

“This isn’t just about tennis, Tashi. I know that. I know you want her, and it’s not a good idea. She’s young, a lot younger than us, and she might not know how to handle this.” He gestured to the three of them.

“What did she say when you offered to train her?” Patrick interjected.

Tashi gripped her arm sleeve tightly in annoyance. “She said that she’d think about it, and that she has people she doesn’t want to leave.”

“‘People?’” Patrick cocked an eyebrow, a little smirk crossing his face.

“Her doubles partner, I’m assuming. She’s pussy whipped even worse than you, if that’s possible. Came in with all these hickeys on her neck, which she tried to cover up with concealer.” Jealousy was clear in her voice, along with her irritation. Patrick snickered quietly.

“I’m giving her an opportunity, a real chance, and she’s willing to give up everything for her. Everything she’s ever done, everything she’s ever worked for. It’s fucking stupid.”

Art’s expression softened, and he found himself locking eyes with Patrick. Maybe he knew you better than he thought. Maybe you could fit into this. Maybe he should give you a chance.

He sighed, running a hand over his face, feeling the cool metal of his wedding ring burning against his cheek, taunting him. “She’s going to need some time. Let her figure everything out. She’ll come back to you.”

“How do you know?” Tashi asked.

“I saw how she was looking at you at the end of the match. She wanted you to see. She wanted you to be impressed. She wanted you…who wouldn’t?” He took her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. Tashi smiled at him.

Patrick got to his feet, gazing at the two. “Wait, so you’re in?”

“I guess so, are you?” Art replied.

“..Yeah.”

–

“So, how did it go?” Anneliese questioned as she sat across the table from you in the dining hall. Honestly, you didn’t know how to answer that. There was so much that happened, so many feelings, so many conflicts. Thinking back on it made you dizzy. It was like a puzzle you were trying to piece together in your head.

“I think I blew it.” You admitted.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “What? What do you mean?”

“It went fine, I guess, but she said she wanted to train me to play professionally, and I told her that I need to think about it, and she wasn’t very happy with that.”

“Why?”

You messed with the food on your tray, unable to meet her stare. “I don’t know, it was a lot, and I- I couldn’t give her an answer right away-”

“This is your dream. You worked so hard, and you told her you need to think about it?”

“I know, but doing this means leaving school and leaving everyone behind. It means leaving you behind. It means no more practices or matches together, no more bus rides, no more shared hotel rooms. It means no more us.”

“So you want to give it all up for me? That’s fucking stupid. There is no ‘us.’ We’re not even together. This is just..casual. You know that, and I won’t let you throw everything you worked so hard for away.”

Her words stung. Moving from state to state with your mother made it hard for you to make new friends, and even harder to keep them. She had been your first best friend, the first person that actually stuck around in your life. You loved her so much and you knew she loved you too, but she’s right.

You bit your lip, fighting back tears. She reached across the table, resting her hand on yours and giving it a comforting squeeze. “It’s not like you’re going to be moving across the country, you’ll only be an hour or so away. You can visit me and I can visit you. I’ll go see your matches and you can see mine. We’ll make it work, I promise. But I’m begging you, please don’t give up your dreams for me.”

You wanted to believe her, you really did, but you’ve heard those words too often before. Empty promises that they’ll keep in touch, that they won’t forget you, that they’ll make it work. It never does.

Your heart felt heavy in your chest. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to look her in the eyes. “Okay, I’ll send her a text and let her know that I’m ready. I’m going to do this.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Good.”

–

You: I thought about it and I’m ready

You: I want to do this. I want to play professionally and I’d be honored to have you train me.

Tashi had been waiting impatiently for that text, checking her phone constantly. She wanted Art to be right, she really did, but she had her doubts. Now, as she stared down at her phone, those doubts dissipated, replaced with feelings of satisfaction and excitement instead.

Tashi: I think you made the right decision

Tashi: Lmk your schedule and I’ll set something up

[hom3land3r]

The more Angela screamed, the more satisfaction the demon got. His gaze met James’, holding onto the silent reassurance as they both got the justice they deserved. Their minds connected, Angela baring all the pain that both beasts had to share. While they in turn felt…relief. What he would’ve given to make this moment last forever, the ignorant bitch trapped in an endless loop of pain. That’s all she deserved.

Yet it was satisfying nonetheless, both James and Mirrorlander working together, giving in to their more primal nature. This was when the pair were more alike than ever. Unforgiving. No mercy. Just overwhelming pain. Out the corner of his eye he saw Angela’s body twitch and flail while her mortal body and mind was being overloaded with intense agony. Yet the demon found himself unable to look anywhere else but into those green eyes. He’d had enough of the woman. He didn’t want to waste any more time looking at her. She was nothing.

Mirrorlander felt everything James did, felt the joy he got from his kill. It was raw and animalistic, sensations the demon knew all too well. He couldn’t have been more proud in this moment. He was blown away by James’ merciless side, the lengths he would go for the one he loved. While the picture in front of him would’ve terrified anyone else and filled them with disgust, to Mirrorlander it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Love and loyalty incarnate.

He watched as James eased back, lips stained crimson. This wasn’t a clean kill by any means. It was personal. He watched every movement his lover made, finding himself falling in love all over again. The vampire could well and truly handle his own, and the demon oh so loved when he did. Watching him shine like this was a true gift, a memory that wouldn’t ever be forgotten. Angela was now a thing of the past, broken beyond repair as was her body once she was tossed aside like trash. Mirrorlander smirked at the sickening crack of bones, the ending song of what was once Angela. Reduced to nothing but a corpse.

His attention was quick to focus on his brat, his own gaze softening as he admired the man before him. The cheeky remarks earned a chuckle from the blonde as he gave a nod. “That was always a weakness of hers. Though, what does one expect when trying to meddle in Supe and Unnatural affairs?” Mirrorlander smirked, though his gaze watched James cautiously as he approached the cage. Despite the heat being turned off, he was concerned of it lingering and harming his beloved.

As James swung open the cage door and stepped inside with such confidence, the demon took an instinctive step back. His gaze shifted to the extended hand and then back to stare into those softening eyes. He wanted nothing more than to hold his brat, but he was terrified of hurting him. “I don’t…want to hurt you.” He admitted, brows furrowing. It seemed that the harshness Mirrorlander carried had melted away with the heat. “Normally there’s protocols for cooling the cage…and me. The doctors would blast cold water on me when they’d finished their tests, so that I wouldn’t burn them.” He explained, the memories rising to the surface yet he shook them away.

“Course, an ice cold shower would be preferable.” He added. “It’ll help regulate my body temperature back to normal. Safe for touching, among other things.” He said with a small smile. Perhaps the demon was being overly cautious, however he didn’t want to put James’ safety and wellbeing at risk. Especially considering how heat posed a threat to vampires.

Mirrorlander would’ve warned James not to touch the cage had he any strength to do so. His brows furrowed in concern hearing his lover hiss and seeing the smoke rise from his palm. He wanted to tell James to get back, to keep his distance. He wanted to say a lot of things, but his energy was too drained to even utter a sound. It was like he was frozen there, melded with the cage itself, not moving. The only sign of life being his ragged heartbeat working overtime.

He couldn’t even react to James’ voice, the softer tone when speaking with him. All that mattered was that he was here now, and that the demon’s time within the cage was coming to an end. Hazy eyes watched as James turned to Angela once more and ordered her to turn off the heat. It was useless for her to resist. She was cornered now, stuck in a room with a very pissed off vampire who had the ability to make her do whatever he wanted. She’d lost. And she’d soon pay the price for it.

The air finally began to settle, no longer as thick with heat. But it was still there, still trapped within the cage. However, Mirrorlander slowly regained his strength now that he wasn’t cooking alive any more. As air ventilated, he gasped deeply, inhaling it quickly. So quickly he caused himself to cough from it, but it felt so good to be able to breathe again. He could put up with the lingering warmth. He used the wall as support as he slowly rose to his feet. He was shaky, unbalanced, but his energy was returning. He could focus now on what was going on around him, his gaze instantly locking with James as if to ensure himself the leech really was here. That this wasn’t just his mind playing tricks. He gave a small nod as thanks, but also reassurance that he was alright. He felt their bond again, loud, strong and unbreakable. If there was anything James wanted to know, it would be open for him to read through their connection. Mirrorlander was now an open book, guard well and truly gone when it came to the vampire.

Their attention then shifted to Angela who still had to be dealt with. The demon was glad he was more awake and alert for this as he didn’t want to miss a single second of his lover in action. He smirked as James grabbed her and held her against him in a very primal vampiric hold. His gaze shifted to Angela as she stared at him in fear, yet the blonde only tilted his head slightly as he looked at her, almost as if saying i told you so. Now that she was in that unbreakable grasp, this truly was the end for her. Mirrorlander witnessing her final moments. And he felt nothing but joy.

His hateful gaze softened as he looked at James, loving the mischief in those gorgeous green eyes. “Sounds like a perfect idea.” There would be no mercy from either of them. The demon focused, staring Angela down as she screamed when fangs pierced flesh. He was right there, flooding her mind with the pain, the suffocating warmth that he felt trapped in that cage. Every nerve set on fire, the woman burning from the inside. Oh yes, her last moments would be full of nothing but agony as the two beasts devoured on her pain and suffering. Mirrorlander’s eyes began to glow. While he was still unable to use his lasers, it didn’t stop the sheer rage he felt shining through. “I warned you, Angela. You sealed your fate the moment you thought I was yours to take. You have no one to blame for this but yourself. I never was nor ever will be yours. You can tell that to Madelyn, Edgar and Vogelbaum when you see them in hell.” The demon spat the words, viscous and sharp as any blade. Though he’d said all he wanted to say. The rest was up to James. This was his moment and one that Mirrorlander would always remember. The moment when everything changed for him, his outlook on the vampire. He’d been so used to people causing John pain that he didn’t trust anyone, wouldn’t let anyone in.

Except for James. It would always be James.

[adrift-in-thyme]

The Ghost in the Lost Woods

While trying to navigate the Lost Woods Link meets a strangely familiar figure

Ao3 | Fic beneath the cut

————————————

When he ends up at the entrance to the Lost Woods for the twentieth time Link is forced to finally admit it. He’s lost, hopelessly so.

With a sigh, he ignites his torch once more. This is the only part of the woods he’s been to so far where he can actually see two feet in front of him. Everything else is bathed in thick fog that he can make neither heads nor tails of.

Supposedly, the wind is meant to guide his steps and bring him to the place where the Master Sword awaits.

Supposedly.

It certainly hasn’t helped him yet.

Maybe he should turn back. He casts a glance over his shoulder to where he knows the path lies, hopelessly obscured by the fog. He could set up camp right outside the forest, cook something warm and hearty, get some sleep. Then, when morning dawned he’d be up bright and early, ready to try again.

But he doesn’t want to give up, not yet, not now when he’s already wasted half of a day trying to navigate these blasted woods.

He takes a deep breath, steels himself, and heads forward once more.

He makes it five steps before the mist closes in, the telltale giggles of Koroks fill his ears, and the forest spits him out…right back at the entrance.

Link lets out a growl of frustration. How’s he supposed to pull the sword when he can’t even find it? He stumbled upon it before, a mere chance encounter when he was a child playing amongst the trees. Why is it so very difficult now?

Does the Goddess not want him to find it? Has she deemed him unworthy after his miserable failure?

It wouldn’t surprise him.

He extinguishes his torch and walks over to the nearest tree. Flopping down, he leans against it and closes his eyes. The sounds of the forest drift to his ears, carried on the wings of the wind that failed him. Usually, they’re calming, a balm on his frayed nerves, grounding him when the weight of everything becomes too much. But today they only serve to remind him that even nature itself rejects him.

He lets out a bitter laugh. He’s unworthy of a forest now. Fancy that.

“You’re lost, aren’t you?”

A voice slices through the quiet, pushing aside his dismal thoughts. Link opens his eyes.

“Huh?”

A tall man dressed in a full plate of armor gazes down at him, his one eye twinkling with something like amusement.

“I asked if you were lost.”

Link blinks once, twice. He has the oddest feeling he’s met this man before, maybe even known him well. But that can’t be. He makes a point of remembering everyone he comes across on his travels and he’s never even seen this man, much less gotten to know him.

Then again, he doesn’t even remember the faces of his parents. If this man is from his past, there is little chance he would recall him now.

“Umm.”

Eyes narrowing, he looks from the man to the woods and back again. He could be a Yiga, of course. That would explain his unexpected appearance. He has never seen Yiga in these parts though. No doubt they’re afraid to venture too close to the mysterious Lost Woods. And, then, there’s also the fact that he isn’t wearing one of their trademark suits, nor offering to sell him overpriced bananas.

Besides, this man has a strange sort of aura about him, almost like the feeling Link gets when he uses one of the Champion’s powers. He must possess strong magic–maybe even dark magic if the odd markings on his face are any indication. Yet, he dresses like a knight.

And to make matters even stranger, he wavers slightly out of focus if Link stares at him for too long, skin turning just the tiniest bit bluish and translucent. With him standing with his back to the woods, Link has the distinct impression of a phantom emerging from the hazy darkness of the trees.

This man is no ordinary traveler, that much is terribly obvious.

Link frowns up at him, hand drifting ever so slowly to his slate. “Who are you?”

The man smiles, kind and a bit sad. “You can call me Time.”

Time.

Link’s frown deepens. There it is again, the feeling of unexplainable familiarity, as though he’s heard that name before.

“And you’re…traveling through these woods too?”

“You could say that.”

Slowly, Link stands, careful to keep his hand by his slate. He hasn’t tested Stasis on magical beings or ghosts, but it’s worth a try. At the very least, he might be able to take advantage of the element of surprise. His efforts to be nonchalant must not be too effective, though, because Time’s gaze flits to his hip.

“You don’t have to worry,” he says, evenly. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Then, why are you here?”

He regards him calmly, arms crossed over his chest. “To guide the hero to his birthright. That is what you’re after, isn’t it?”

Link’s blood runs cold. Usually, he has no qualms about strangers knowing who and what he is. But usually, they’re random civilians more interested in meeting their crush or seeing a mythical weapon than anything else. And they certainly don’t possess any magical abilities. For this man, however, this strange knight who practically emanates power to know who he is, feels…well it doesn’t feel wrong at all. In fact, it feels as right as following Zelda’s voice or setting the Divine Beasts free. It feels like destiny.

And that is what terrifies him.

“What,” he chokes, “what makes you think I’m the hero?”

Time smirks. “To attempt to pass through these woods you must either be incredibly foolish or incredibly courageous. And you don’t strike me as a fool.”

Link swallows down the fear lodged in his throat. He isn’t entirely sure what to say to that. He’s never been a good liar, that much is for certain, but sometimes he really, really wishes he was.

“Besides,” Time continues, reaching down to pull off one of his gauntlets, “it’s not all that difficult to recognize someone else who possesses the unbreakable spirit.”

He holds up his hand and Link’s eyes go wide. There on his skin is the mark of the Triforce, its far right corner bolded in gold.

Link stares at it, almost not believing what he’s seeing. Slowly, he drags his gaze back up to meet Time’s.

“You—you’re a hero too?”

“I was.” Time replaces his gauntlet, that sorrowful smile lifting his lips once more. “But that was a very long time ago.”

“And now you’re a ghost.”

He chuckles. “Yes, and now I’m a ghost.”

Link runs a hand through his bangs and blows out a breath.

“Okay, wow.”

“Is it really that strange to you?” Time lifts an eyebrow, quizzically. “You’re over a hundred years old, and you often travel with the spirit of your predecessor.”

Link tilts his head questioningly. “Wolfie? How do you know about him?”

“I have my ways.”

Link lets out an exasperated huff. Of course, he’d get the most cryptic ghost in all of Hyrule to guide him. Even Wolfie gives straighter answers than that and he’s incapable of speech.

But Time is gesturing toward the forest now, and Link can tell that particular question isn’t one he’ll get an answer to.

“So, shall we go?”

Link takes one last look at the path and then nods. If he can’t trust the ghost of a past hero, who can he trust?

“Lead on, old man.”

Emotion surges across Time’s face, then is gone faster than Link has time to identify it. He turns away.

“These woods are treacherous,” he says, tone suspiciously level. “Stay close.”

He plunges into the mist, and Link jogs after him.

“Treacherous?”

The only dangers he’s found here are wolves and stalfos. And given that he encounters those practically everywhere he goes, he’s more inclined to label them as incredibly annoying.

Time skewers him with a somber glance. “Those who don’t know how to navigate these woods are swallowed by them. They become stalfos, cursed to wander forever. The forest children have kept you safe from this fate.”

“Oh.”

Well, that certainly brings up more than a few questions and a good bit of discomfort. Suddenly, the fog crowding him on either side seems infinitely more threatening, and Link finds himself gravitating closer to his guide.

“So, how come you know how to get through here when no one else does?” he asks, pivoting on his heel as Time makes an unexpected turn.

The old man’s expression grows nostalgic. “I grew up here. Well, not here exactly, but the Lost Woods in my Hyrule aren’t so different from these.”

Link hums, thoughtfully. He hadn’t thought anyone inhabited this forest save for monsters, animals, and Koroks. But it’s not too hard to imagine that long ago in a different Hyrule this man called the Lost Woods his home. He navigates them with confidence and skill, almost as though the trees themselves are guiding him with silent, invisible hands. And if he were wearing green, Link suspects he would look like he truly belonged here.

“Is this your responsibility, then?” he asks. “To guide people through these woods?”

“No,” Time answers, calmly. “I am only here to guide you.”

Link goes quiet once more, mulling over that in his head. It’s one thing for the Champions, and Zelda, and even Wolfie to guide and protect him. It’s quite another for this man, only connected to him through shared destiny, to show up to aid him, and after all this time too.

It makes so little sense. Then again, he’s found that to be a sort of trend lately.

A blupee darts past them, and he watches it, almost idly wondering if he should take a shot at it. But then it comes an abrupt stop right in front of Time, looking up at him almost expectantly. Time pauses and reaches down to run a gentle hand over it’s head. The animal leans closer, emitting a small, happy sounding noise, and Link shakes his head in disbelief.

“They always run from me.”

As if on cue, the blupee stiffens, bright eyes locking onto him, then disappears in a puff of blue. Time turns to him, something almost accusatory in his gaze.

“Perhaps, if you stopped shooting at them they would be more inclined to stay.” He straightens and makes a beckoning motion with his hand. “Now, come, we’re almost there.”

Link follows him, feeling strangely chastised and a bit annoyed.

It isn’t enough to just be cryptic, apparently, Time has to be judgmental too.

“I don’t wanna hurt them,” he says after a few moments drift by and the need to defend himself still hasn’t gone away. “I’m just always light on rupees.”

“There are other ways of earning rupees, you know,” Time says, tone still infuriatingly level.

With a petulant scowl, Link goes back to plodding along in silence.

It’s not long, though, before the fog begins to dissipate, and Link can see the beginnings of a tunnel looming up ahead. Time comes to a halt a short distance before it and gestures toward it.

“We’re here.”

Link steps forward, almost hesitantly. After trying so hard to get here, he isn’t sure what to do now. The Master Sword awaits him just past these trees – “his birthright,” as Time put it.

But after his miserable failure, can he possibly pull it? Or will it deem him unworthy of another chance to save his kingdom?

He doesn’t even realize that he’s standing frozen, rooted to the spot, until a hand comes to rest on his shoulder. Jumping slightly in surprise, he raises his head to meet Time’s gaze. All judgment is gone now, replaced by something kind and understanding. He might, Link realizes with a jolt of surprise, even call it fatherly.

“You are equipped to rise to this challenge,” he says, firmly. “You have worked diligently to prepare for this moment. Now, it is time to claim what is rightfully yours.”

He gives Link the slightest nudge and he steps forward, heart in his throat.

He’s right, it’s time. But…

“And if I’m not–if I’m not ready for this…”

“The sword holds a strict standard, I know. But I have no doubt you will measure up to it.”

His hands are trembling, his stomach churning, but Link takes another step and another. The tunnel is like a gaping maw, ready to devour him, and spit him out bruised and battered by the expectations he can never meet. There is a pull too though, an indescribable feeling that draws him forth, as though he belongs here, as though taking these very steps was written in his history from the start.

As though his failure and all the consequences of it has all led to this, pivotal moment.

His feet carry him, his body moves for him, and it feels right.

“Go, my son,” Time says, voice fading into the mist, “and do not falter.”

Link steps into the sun.

It’s only when it’s all said and done, when the sword is in his hands, and the Deku Tree’s words are ringing in his ears, and the forest children are crowding around him, eager to meet his every need that he sees them. A gray wolf and a golden one sit a short distance away, cloaked by the mist, unnoticed by anyone save for him. And when his eyes meet theirs, there is pride in their gazes.

[britcision]

Every single time Caleb talks about how the things he did were awful and irredeemable Astrid is internally screaming

Caleb failed on their graduation day

He made it through training, and yeah, did awful things

Astrid and Wulf passed that graduation, finished training, and spent 17 years in the real world doing the actual job

The parts too hard, too bloody, too dangerous, to trust to teenagers

Caleb knows Trent is awful and all of the terrible things he put children through, and every dreadful thing he is capable of, no question

But Astrid and Wulf, looking at him after the Mighty Nein? Not when he was in the Sanitarium, broken by Feeblemind, but a whole, complete person?

A wizard powerful enough to stand toe to toe with their master, and what did he do that they didn’t to get there?

He ate pastries. Wore bread as mittens. Made dick jokes and found love and forgiveness and people who may not understand, but who don’t care that they don’t understand and accept him anyway

People who looked at this sad, broken man with up to seven years of guilt and terrible deeds weighing him down (depending on when you think Trent started scourging ‘em, seemed young in the campaign but much later in the comic)

Knowing that they spent every one of the years he was in the Sanitarium and then after he escaped still under Trent’s thumb, still doing everything they’d done as kids and more, doing it with higher stakes, higher costs

And he talks about those childhood sins as unforgivable

He tells them that they too can be redeemed, as if nothing and no one could be worse than he was

But Astrid and Caleb are the same person

So you know she’s just as convinced that her sins were actually the worst, and there’s hope for anyone else but her

And she has the resume to back it up

And no matter how much she wishes she could have what he has, be free and redeem herself and maybe admit she shouldn’t have had to do any of it…

If Caleb doesn’t believe he can be redeemed, how could there be hope for her?

(And absolutely none of it will stop Jester Lavorre from scooping up another two formerly evil wizards and tucking them gently into her pocket and woobie-ing them to death with sprinkles and muffins and love)

look me in the eyeballs. astrid and caleb (imo wulf is a slightly different story but that's another post) are textually, canonically narrative foils. i think a better, less literary term-y way to put it is that they're variations on the same person. like. canonically. astrid is caleb if he didn't fail the training. caleb is astrid if she got out. they're like if you took one person and laid out two seperate options on how they would react to a major life-changing incident (hmm. i wonder what that might be in this context). astrid. caleb. they look at each other and see themselves. caleb is alright with this. astrid was holding on for her life for a little bit, trying not to lose her shit, because. he is who she would be if she was free and she figures that out during c2 yknow. caleb always knew that he was almost astrid so he just had to. like. look at this woman he loves dearly and fucking. wretchedly. and cope with the fact that 1. he loves her 2. she's awful 3. she could be so much better than she is 4. she's too far gone for that. but he's been coping for a long time, and she's not unreachable she's just. she's never gonna be him. meanwhile she has to grapple with the fact that she will never be as free as him- i don't know if she really wants to be, but he's proof that her life didn't need to go the way that it did and that's brutal. anyway. they're the same guy. it is so so important to consider that in relation to the dynamic they have going on. is this mic on

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐲 | 𝐞.𝐦.

Pairing Eddie Munson x Fem Reader [friends -> lovers]

Summary: You and Eddie ditch the party of the semester to fall into something you both know is meant to be [fluff, 3k]

A/N This is just fun, fluff, and feels. Felt like a vibe while I was writing it. This fic is part 1 of 3.

The music vibrates through the floor so intensely that Eddie can feel it in his bones. Even in the sunroom where he and a few others have settled. The small space gives sight to the backyard, where people mingle as they smoke, illuminated by string lights combating the night’s darkness. Those inside the house with him chatter, sing, and toss their heads back in carefree laughter, feet shuffling against the hardwood as they dance.

The entire scene buzzes with the kind of life only Steve Harrington’s place could ignite on a Friday night. One of these days, he swore he was going to loosen up and allow himself to get swept up in it too. 

For now, he watches. Eyes flitting to various faces, but always returning to you. If you weren’t smiling, you were talking, and the way your lips formed around your words was just as beautiful. The two of you spoke briefly when he first arrived, and he could still feel the delighted hug you’d given him over the fact that he decided to come. He wondered what he’d have to do to make it go away, but good thing he didn’t mind the feeling. It was a reminder of how much he wished your nearness could be all his forever.

Longing was a peculiar thing. Selfish in its occupation of his entire being. 

As Eddie takes another small sip from his drink, something fruity spiked with vodka, The Hair himself saunters up in front of him in a pair of slacks and a Polo sweater. Though rather polished for the occasion, it manages to look fitting on him. His cheeks are a little flushed and the metalhead raises a curious brow as his friend stares down at him with a smirk. 

Rebel Yell starts pulsing through the stereo as Steve offers him a hand off the couch. They end up weaving their way out back. The fall air is cool, but not all of summer’s warmth has vanished. A few people wave and greet them as they head towards a pair of chaise lounge chairs. Billy Idol’s voice is muffled as it continues thrumming from inside. Grooving bodies are visible through the windows as the party carries on. 

Steve pulls out a fancy metal cigarette case before they sit, flipping it open with a soft click. Eddie can’t help but snort as he relaxes into the chair. 

Steve’s brows furrow as he slips out a joint and begins lighting it. “What?” 

Eddie nods to the case in Steve’s lap. “Rich people shit.” 

Steve takes the first couple puffs before passing the joint to Eddie. “Jealous?” 

A smile cracks Eddie's face before he takes a drag. The answer is no, he isn’t. Once upon a time, jealousy was all he burned with, even though he was Hawkin’s poster child for no fucks given and had every reason to be grateful he wasn’t worse off. Grateful for Wayne, that he wasn’t in the pen with his deadbeat father, for finally finding solid friends. He had more than he could ask for, and it took growing up to see it. 

Eddie tips his head back and blows smoke up into the night before giving Steve his turn. What he can’t see is that your eyes have fallen on him from inside the house, sparkling and curious as Robin grins by your side. 

“So did I save you back there or what?” Steve asks as he ashes the joint onto the ground. “Looked like you were zoning in and out, man.” There’s genuine curiosity in his gaze though his tone is playful. 

Growing up with parents like his, Steve had gotten good at reading people. They vacationed a lot, but still managed to walk around with arc reactors in their chests whenever they were home. Bound to detonate in the wake of the most trivial inconveniences. Sometimes he wished he could shut everyone and their feelings out, but he wouldn’t quite be himself then. 

Eddie runs his ringed fingers through his hair. “Just a bit overwhelmed.” 

Steve takes a thoughtful look around. “These kinda things can be a lot.” 

Not even half the faces outside belong to close friends. There was a magic to it, nevertheless. For a few hours, everyone could throw their worries to the wind as Hawkins, Indiana began to feel less like a nowhere town and more like the top of the world. Lord knows Steve didn’t mind the distraction. 

“Not my scene,” Eddie settles on saying. The joint has found its way back into his hand. 

“Everyone’s got their escape,” Steve says. “You’re just too evolved for this one.” 

Eddie snorts. “Shut up.” 

“Yet here you are in the flesh,” Steve continues, thinking as Eddie smokes. “You should tell her how you feel.” 

Eddie coughs, lowering the joint from between his lips. “Dude. Fuck.” 

Steve bites back a smirk as Eddie recovers, extending his hand for the joint. Eddie refuses, taking another drag out of spite, for himself or Steve he isn’t sure. A distant swell of giggles makes multiple heads turn towards the back door, where you and Robin file outside. There’s an immediate flutter in Eddie's gut as he takes you in, your skirt flowing at your thighs. It takes him a second to realize you two are headed their way. 

By the time you make it over, Eddie has straightened up. Meanwhile Steve remains unphased. “Ladies,” Steve greets.  

Robin wrinkles her glittery nose at him. “Why weren’t we invited out here?” 

Chuckling, he makes room for her on his chair and she plops down beside him. “‘Cause you hate the way weed makes you feel like you’re going insane.” He leans into her with each word until she pushes him away with a helpless laugh.

“It’s the principle,” she counters. 

Eddie motions for you to join him and you smile as you take a seat beside him, bumping your shoulder against his in a gentle hello. When he offers you the joint, you shake your head. Steve reaches for it yet again, but Eddie pretends not to notice, taking another drag. A small smile pulls at your lips. 

“Actually, I think I will take a hit.” Eddie doesn’t hesitate passing it to you. 

Rather than indulging, you hand it to Steve, who laughs in victory. Eddie shakes his head, feigning betrayal in a way that earns a laugh out of you. It’s a sweet, melodic sound. He tries to ignore the way your thigh feels pressed against his, but it’s in vain. Even the vanilla notes of your perfume manage to cloud his mind in the softest way. No matter where he was, if you were near, he would always be painfully aware of your presence. 

It was your invitation that had driven him to this party in the first place. Although Steve’s invite came first, your insistence made him change his mind and say yes. Sweaty bodies and blaring music wasn’t your ideal scene either, but you gave in from time to time and looked good doing so. Earlier that night, Eddie almost hadn’t made it through Dancing In the Dark as you and Robin swayed and jumped around like you were alone in your room. There was something about the freeness of the way you moved that made it hard to look away. 

“Munson’s been meaning to tell you something,” Steve announces, looking straight at you.

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach as he glares at Steve. Robin glances between the two of them, brows furrowed as amusement plays on her lips. You hug your arms as a cool breeze rolls through, but you’re more interested in what Eddie has to say than escaping the chill. In meeting your gaze, however, he silently begs you not to entertain the claim. It only piques your curiosity all the more. 

“Are you gonna spill or what?” Robin prompts.

“There’s nothing to spill,” Eddie insists, looking down to twist his skull ring. 

Reaching over into his lap, you gingerly take his hand into yours to slip off that very ring. He doesn’t pull away or argue, just watches as a helplessly warm feeling melts down his ribcage. His lips twitch upwards when you put it on your thumb because it’s the only finger big enough. It’s warm from being against his own skin for so long. Robin and Steve share a brief, knowing look.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.” There’s hope woven within the lilt of your voice. Eddie chuckles, and you commit the breathy sound to memory as if you’ll need it one day more than you do now. 

Robin slaps her hands against her knees. “Well, it’s getting kinda chilly out here so I’m gonna head back inside,” she says, rubbing her arms as she stands. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tease. 

“I’ll stick to something tame like snooping around in Harrington’s room,” she says as she turns to leave. Steve rolls his eyes.

A comfortable silence settles between the three of you. However, his brows eventually pinch together as he reconsiders Robin’s words. Taking one last drag, he passes the joint back to Eddie.   

“She was joking, Steve,” you assure him, chuckling. 

“No she wasn’t,” he worries as he stands to jog back into the house. Eddie snickers. 

With a soft sigh, you lean back onto your hands, looking towards the sky as silence falls again. There are a few clouds visible in the light of the crescent moon, but the stars are everywhere. Like tiny shining freckles peppered against the face of the night. Part of you wonders if he’ll talk now. 

“What if the stars have been watching us back our entire lives?” you murmur. 

Eddie’s brows pinch together as he looks over at you, chest rattling with a startled laugh. “That’s something to think about.” His eyes are a bit glossier now. “Don’t think I’d mind if that were true.” 

You tilt your head, a smile budding on your face. “You wouldn’t mind billions of little eyes observing your day-to-day life?” you ask. “That’s a pretty big audience.” 

A grin eases across his face, half playful, half cocky. “I’m a pretty interesting guy.”

You lift a teasing shoulder, feigning indifference. “You’re alright.” 

Eddie laughs, but a weighted look flickers in his eyes as he studies you, catching the fondness you hadn’t tried all that hard to hide. Even with the pleasant buzz beneath his skin and somewhat of a looser mind, he can see it clearly. 

“Hey,” you speak up again. There’s a new softness to your voice, something mischievous dancing around the edges. “Wanna get outta here?” 

Eddie blinks like he can’t quite believe you’ve asked, but finds himself saying yes anyways.

••• 

Sitting in the passenger seat in his van, you realize you didn’t think much further than this. The air smells like him in all the best ways. Pinewood and faint cigarette smoke. As the engine rumbles to life, you shift in your seat and peek over at him, your confidence a distant memory. The radio bursts to life as well, but he quickly reaches out to turn it down. You bite back a smile at the fact that his skull ring is missing from his finger because it’s on yours. Eddie settles in with a sigh, turning to you. 

“So,” he says, eyes sparkling and a little red under the glow of the street lights. 

There’s an intensity to the warmth of his gaze. It drives you to hide your face in your hands. Which does nothing to make him disappear, if the way he exhales a chuckle is any indicator. “Stop looking at me, I didn’t think this far ahead.” There’s no real distress in your voice, only giddiness mixed with nerves. 

“Now I feel like an idiot,” you whine. 

“Well, you’re not.” He sounds more sincere than the moment calls for. “And I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop looking at you, so I guess we’re both in a pickle.” 

“A pickle?” You snort, lowering your hands to meet his gaze. More laughter escapes you. Maybe it’s your body's way of not having to address the implication of his words. 

There’s a flutter in his gut as he watches you. It’s like old times, back when you were freshmen who stayed up too late laughing over the most ridiculous things. Except now, you were more than the girl who sat beside him in Biology because you thought it was cool he had a tattoo. You’d grown into a friend, perhaps even more. As composure finds its way back to you, that truth weighs heavy in the small distance between you.  

Eddie clears his throat. “We could hang at mine for a bit. Wayne’s at work.” When you don’t say anything, he bites the inside of his cheek. “It’s up to you.”  

“Sorry, yeah, that sounds good,” you breathe. 

Eddie gears the van into drive, only to put it back in park with a heavy exhale. You blink when angles himself to look at you, opening his mouth a few times before speaking. 

“There is something I need to tell you,” he admits. “No way in hell did I ever think we’d be friends, but you’re the raddest person I’ve ever met.” A lump forms in your throat as his words wash over you. “And you’re so pretty that sometimes I wonder how every guy in the world isn’t giving you whatever you want all the time.” 

You can hear your heart in your ears as you say, “Maybe that’s ‘cause there’s only one guy I want in the world.” 

•••

A small sound of surprise rises up your throat when Eddie backs you against his bedroom door. His apology is hushed against your lips as he continues kissing you, hands gentle where they grip at your waist, feeling along your sides. You’re warm all over as if you’re laid out before the sun, arms hooked around his neck. It hadn’t occurred to him how much he wanted to kiss you until you looked at his alarm clock and realized that it’d probably be best if he drove you home. It was well past midnight. Time had escaped you as you talked and laughed. 

When he does pull away, he studies your face like he’s looking for something. A few seconds pass, and he still doesn’t know what for. Perhaps your smile as it shyly appears. You move your hands to cup his face, thumbs stroking his flushed cheeks. You’ve never been close enough to notice he has the faintest freckles over the bridge of his nose. It almost feels like you’re getting a glimpse at sacred markings you’re not supposed to see. 

Eddie remembers to breathe when you peck his lips again, running your fingers through his hair. His breath is startled out of him, more like. It’s a wonder his knees haven’t buckled beneath him. He wants to kiss you again to see if that’ll finally knock him back down to earth, but instead he exhales the softest sigh over your lips, squeezing your hips to confirm you’re real. He’s not expecting the sense of guilt that creeps up on him. 

Your brows pinch together. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I just… I haven’t taken you on a date or bought you flowers.” He swallows. “I swear you’re worth all that, swear I’m gonna.” 

You gently scratch his scalp. “That’s nothing to worry yourself over.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Don’t want you to feel like I’m just trying to come onto you,” he says. “I like you a lot—”  

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever too.” Your voice sounds braver than you feel. 

A smile breaks across his face as he rests his forehead against yours. “Well, that’s maddening news.” 

Humming, you kiss him again, delicately running your tongue along his lips so he shivers. “Where are we gonna go?” you breathe, clarifying when he makes a soft, confused sound, “For our first date.” With the way you continue kissing him, he assumes you don’t really want an answer, that you’re trying to drive him crazy on purpose. 

His mind changes when you gently push his chest so he knows to pull away. He listens immediately, eyes dazed. 

“Maybe the arcade,” you supply, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Or a picnic by the lake.” Your hands slip under his shirt, gracing the skin of his lower stomach, your touch sending a rush of heat through him faster than any high ever could. 

You’re not trying to be suggestive, it’s more exploratory. A shared thrill in finally being able to touch him how you’ve wanted for so long. Eddie’s hands remain at your waist, grounding him even as he feels his resolve starting to slip. 

As much as he wants to indulge a step further, maybe even several, he holds himself back. It might be old-fashioned, but he wants to do this right, do a bit of course correction. He can almost hear Uncle Wayne’s voice from those lazy afternoons of his younger years, talking about life and how to treat a lady. 

“Next Friday,” he says, staring into your eyes intently. “It’ll be nice. I’ll surprise you,” he promises, taking your hands in his, relishing their softness, their warmth. His skull ring is still on your thumb. 

“Really?” Your smile is unabashed. 

He nods, a grin creeping onto his face. “It’s a date.” 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. 

Turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting so you don’t miss the next one.

NEXT PART (18+)

MORE

[rafecameronssl4t]

Mind, body, and soul || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @mad3lyncline

Summary: in a rare moment of vulnerability, Rafe voices his need for you and you only.

Warnings: angst galore 😍😍

Word count: 2,371

A/n: guys this acc had me giggling, smiling, and kicking my feet bc I love it when Rafe is so lovestruck by reader and being vulnerable to her and her only.

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

As you reverse park your car, the bass-heavy thrum of trap music vibrates so intensely you can feel it reverberating even from your car. Sarah, lounging in the passenger seat with a tipsy grin, shakes her head. “I can already tell I’m going to be horribly hungover tomorrow.” You chuckle, flicking her a sympathetic look as your finger hovers over the button to raise the convertible roof.

“Me too,” you agree with a laugh. But just as you press it, a blinding light floods the car, making both of you instinctively shield your eyes. “What the hell?” you mutter, squinting as you try to make out the source of the glare. Across the parking lot, a truck idles with its high beams aimed right at you. You narrow your eyes, recognising it immediately.

“Is that your brother’s truck?” you ask Sarah, already knowing the answer. She groans. “It is.” With an exaggerated sigh, you roll your eyes and flip him off, watching as he laugh. “Yeah, real funny, dickhead!” you call out, your voice carrying over the pulsing music just as the roof finishes closing.

Shaking your head with an amused grin, you hop out of the car, the cool night air washing over you as you look back to see Rafe, still sitting behind the wheel with that signature smug grin, clearly pleased with his little stunt. “Of course my brother’s here,” Sarah mutters under her breath as she steps out and shuts her door, the headlights casting long shadows across the driveway as you hit the lock button.

You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder. “It’s a party loaded with booze, drugs, and girls—where else would he be? Rafe wouldn’t stray too far from that scene,” you say, a knowing smirk playing at your lips. As you round the car, you throw a pointed glance his way, catching his eye for a brief, charged moment.

His grin widens, like he’s daring you to say something, but you roll your eyes, dismissing him as you turn back toward the house. The heavy beat from inside grows louder with each step, the thumping bass promising a long, wild night ahead. Behind you, you can still feel Rafe’s gaze, lingering with a mix of mischief and something unspoken.

~

“Finally, you’re here,” his voice murmurs close to your ear just as his arm slips around your waist, pulling you into him. The familiar warmth of his body and the scent of his cologne makes you melt, and you can’t help but grin as you look up at him. “Miss me that much?” you tease, rising onto your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips, savouring the brief contact.

“Get a room, please,” Sarah mutters, rolling her eyes as she heads off, leaving you both laughing softly. You’re still smiling into the kiss when his hand slides to grip your waist, then dips lower to give your ass a playful squeeze. Biting back a laugh, you take his hand in yours and lead him inside, weaving through the crowd toward the kitchen, where bottles line the counters and red cups litter the island.

Just as you reach for a drink, you hear Rafe’s voice behind you, casual yet somehow authoritative. “Hey, man,” he calls out, extending a hand. You turn in time to see Topper clasp his hand, pulling him in for a quick bro hug, their easy familiarity apparent. Rafe glances over Topper’s shoulder and gives you a subtle wink, a smirk dancing on his lips. You take a slow, steady sip of your drink, trying to ignore the flutter that Rafe’s wink stirs up.

He gives you a curt nod, voice cool as he says your name—“Y/n”—playing it off casually, fully aware that Topper’s watching. Then, as if on cue, Topper drapes his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close. You lean into his touch, holding Rafe’s gaze with a challenging glint as you cock an eyebrow at him, feeling the tension sparking in the space between you. Rafe just smiles, but you can tell by the tightness at the corners of his mouth that he’s bothered, the calm facade masking what you know to be a prick of jealousy.

Leaning in, you press close to Topper, your lips brushing his ear as you murmur, “I’m gonna go find Sarah. I’ll be back.” You punctuate the words with a soft kiss to his jaw, aware of Rafe’s intense gaze on you, reading every movement. With one last glance over your shoulder, you slip away, feeling the weight of Rafe’s stare as you blend into the crowd, a mix of satisfaction and anticipation simmering in your chest.

~

“Took you long enough,” Rafe’s voice comes out in a lazy drawl, each word dripping with barely concealed impatience as you shut the door softly behind you. His eyes are locked on you, tracking your every step as you make your way across the room, his posture relaxed, yet there’s a simmering intensity beneath it.

“Yeah, well, I was having my fun,” you say with a playful pout, savoring the way his gaze darkens slightly, jaw tightening as he registers your words. You take your time, letting each step toward him linger, the tension between you building with each inch of distance closed. Rafe’s expression flickers with something unreadable as you stop a couple of feet from him.

“What do you want, Rafe?” you ask, voice soft but steady, holding his gaze with a hint of challenge. His eyes drag slowly over you, a touch possessive. “I don’t get why you’re still with him,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet edge. The statement hangs in the air, daring you to defend it. “Topper?” You shrug casually, though you can see the slight twitch in Rafe’s jaw as you say his name.

“Well, he’s my boyfriend. And…” You pause, watching his reaction, leaning into the charged silence before continuing, “I love him.” Your voice is confident, but you’re aware of how close you are now, of the heat radiating from his body as you step between his legs, close enough to feel the subtle tension in him. Rafe’s pupils dilate, his breathing shallow as he lifts his gaze back to yours, dark and intense.

Slowly, his hand reaches out, resting on the back of your thigh, fingers tightening as he guides you a step closer, his touch firm, sending a shiver through you. The distance between you vanishes, and you bring your hands up to his face, cradling it gently as you tilt his head back, forcing him to look up at you. His usual confidence is flickering, replaced by something raw, vulnerable.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, laced with a desperate edge. His eyes search yours, seeking the truth, his unspoken desire crackling in the air between you, daring you to deny it. His words hang between you, heavy with something you’re not ready to name, his eyes searching yours with a mix of longing and frustration that makes your heart race.

ou hesitate, fingers brushing over his jaw, feeling the tension in him as he waits for you to say something, anything, that confirms what he so desperately wants to believe. A soft laugh escapes your lips, and you arch an eyebrow at him, letting the weight of his expectation settle for a beat before saying, “I don’t get why you’re acting like this just because I let you go down on me at that party.”

Your voice is teasing, the words edged with a playfulness that you know will only stoke his frustration further. Rafe’s eyes narrow, his jaw tightening as he processes your response. He lets out a short, mirthless laugh, his grip on your thigh tightening just enough for you to feel the heat of his frustration. “You think this is a joke?” he murmurs, voice low, but there’s a vulnerable edge beneath the words.

You let your hands fall from his face, crossing your arms as you look down at him, still standing between his legs. “What am I supposed to think, Rafe? You’re acting like one night means forever.” You raise an eyebrow, challenging him, but the way he’s looking at you—intense, possessive, almost pleading—makes your own resolve waver. Rafe’s gaze sharpens, his frustration giving way to something deeper, more vulnerable.

“You think I just go down on anyone?” he mutters, his voice barely concealing the hurt simmering beneath his irritation. His hand tightens on your thigh, pulling you that much closer as he speaks. “I wouldn’t do that if you didn’t mean something to me, if this didn’t mean something.” You feel his words settle over you, heavier than you expected. His eyes are locked on yours, unflinching, his expression raw and open in a way that catches you off guard.

He’s never looked at you like this, not with this intensity, this strange mix of frustration and honesty that threatens to crack your own defenses. Rafe’s hand slides up to rest on your hip, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that sends a shiver through you. “That night, it wasn’t just a game for me,” he says softly, voice rough with the weight of the confession. “Don’t pretend it was for you, either.”

You want to say something, anything that will take the edge off the tension thickening between you, but as you look into his eyes, you realize there’s nothing you can say to downplay what happened. The unspoken connection between you is real, and the way he’s holding you now feels dangerously close to a promise. “He’s your best friend, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice softening as you move a strand of his hair away from his forehead.

The gesture feels intimate, yet the weight of your words hangs heavy in the air, a reminder of the precarious line you’re both walking. Rafe shifts slightly, moving his head aside, the warmth of your touch lingering as your finger hovers just above his skin, caught between wanting to reach out and the realization of the boundary you’re skirting. After a moment’s pause, you let your hand fall back down beside you, the distance between you feeling impossibly charged.

“Yeah, and I don’t care about him,” he replies, his voice low but steady, an edge of defiance creeping in. “What matters is how I feel about you.” There’s a moment where his expression flickers—vulnerability giving way to defensiveness. Your heart races at his admission, the honesty in his tone sending a thrill through you. “So you think that just because we had one moment, I should throw everything away?” you challenge, your voice firm, yet tinged with uncertainty.

Rafe’s expression hardens, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability beneath the surface. “You make it sound like I should care about Topper,” he says, the annoyance creeping into his voice. “I don’t. All I care about is you.” The weight of his words hangs in the air, thick with tension. You take a breath, feeling the gravity of what he’s saying. “But it’s not that simple, Rafe. You can’t just ignore everything else.”

“Why not?” he replies, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, filled with intensity. “Why can’t I want you? Why can’t I want more than what we’ve settled for?” Your pulse quickens, caught between his gaze and the truth of your own feelings. Rafe’s intensity is captivating, and as he searches your eyes for answers, you realise that the boundaries you thought you had are blurring, the desire between you too strong to deny.

“Because you can’t have me,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but the words land with a finality that makes his jaw tense. Your hands lift to cradle his face, fingertips brushing against his skin as if trying to commit every line and angle to memory. Your gaze flickers to his lips, the urge to close the distance almost overpowering.

Rafe’s eyes darken, his breath hitching as he studies your face, searching for any trace of doubt. “Says who?” he murmurs, leaning into your touch, his hands coming up to rest gently over yours. He’s holding you there, grounding himself in this moment as though refusing to let it slip away. You swallow, feeling the intensity radiate off him. “Says the part of me that knows you don’t always get what you want.”

The words feel heavy, but there’s a tremor in your voice that betrays your resolve. Even as you speak, your thumb unconsciously traces the curve of his cheek, lingering with a tenderness that contradicts the distance you’re trying to impose. Rafe’s gaze drops to your mouth, a flicker of longing crossing his face. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he whispers, his voice rough and unsteady, his eyes meeting yours with a determination that makes your heart race.

“I can’t help wanting you. Mind, body, and soul,” he murmurs, the words heavy with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His voice is low, almost reverent, and as he leans in, his lips hover just inches from yours. His breath fans over your skin, warm and inviting, the space between you crackling with electricity.

His hands slide down, settling possessively on your waist, fingers pressing into you as though anchoring himself in this moment. He pulls you in closer, his gaze locked on yours with a raw vulnerability that you’ve rarely seen. “And I think you want this too,” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes searching your face for any hint of hesitation.

You feel your resolve wavering, the intensity in his words and the weight of his touch making it impossible to ignore the desire building between you. There’s a pause, a beat of silence where the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, caught in this fragile, electric moment. You feel the pull, the undeniable truth in his words.

Your fingers tighten slightly against his skin, and you lean in just enough to brush your lips over his, tentative, testing, but unable to hold back. It’s a whisper of a kiss, a surrender, and as his grip on you tightens, you know there’s no turning back.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Loving your JJK men so I'm here to request fics if possible. I'm feeling Nanami, Geto and Megumi mainly, Sukuna for the shits and anyone else you're in the mood for. It doesn't have to be super long either, just sweet supportive men.

You're either on your way to a thing with friends/family or already at an event when your period either starts or takes a turn for the worse (painful enough cramps to cause nausea) and you're asking them to turn back/leave even though you know you agreed to attend.

Period Problems!

Tags: fluff, cursing, period comfort, established relationships, wee bit of crack

An: Thank you! I appreciate the req <3

Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso, Megumi, Sukuna

SATORU

You kinda let Satoru do all the talking during reunions at Jujutsu Tech. It’s not that you don’t like your former classmates; you do. You just find so much socialization to be kinda exhausting.

Satoru was the opposite however. He’s a natural born extrovert that can talk to other people so casually for hours on end. Socialization doesn’t tire him out at all, so he’s quick to take over conversations for you when he can sense that your social battery is low.

He’s subtle with it: placing his arm slightly in front of you as he steps up, casually inserting himself into the conversation. It feels fluid and not forced at all.

That’s how you two were right now. You were tucked behind his arm, leaning your head against his shoulder. You had been cramping all day long, so you already wasn’t in too good of a mood. The socialization was really the cherry on top.

A torturous wave of cramps hit, nearly making your knees buckle from under you. Your hand tightened around Satoru’s bicep, and you tried to breathe your way through it, not wanting to take him away from all his friends.

Satoru turned his head towards you, and he could immediately notice how pale you looked. “Hey, it was good seeing you though. Take care of the wife and kids.” Your husband smiled at whoever he was talking to before guiding you away from everyone else.

“What’s the matter, sweets? You alright?” He asks softly as he’s extended his infinity out to you so no one can touch you or even get close to you.

“Cramping… hurts..” was all you could manage to get out.

“Let’s get you home, sweets. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling good?” His large palm rubs at the small of your back as he opens the door for you, allowing you to step out.

“Didn’t wanna ruin your event.” You murmur quietly as tears brim in your eyes. You didn’t want to be seen as an inconvenience to him.

“Hey, heyy… c’mere, sweet girl.” Satoru wraps you up in a tight embrace, petting your hair as you cried into his dress shirt. “My poor baby. What kind of husband would I be if I made my wife who’s in a lot of pain get up and go to something as uncomfortable as a reunion? I don’t even really care about those people anyway. You’re my priority.” He leans down and presses a sweet kiss to the top of your head.

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up.” You murmur quietly, and he steps back away from you.

“Right, let’s get you home. I’ll make some chocolate covered strawberries, and we can watch that reality tv show you really like.” Satoru suggests as he helps you into the passenger seat of his car.

SUGURU

Who said cults couldn’t have bake sales? It brings a sense of community and camaraderie amongst the members. Geto thought you were a literal genius when you came up with the idea.

You had been in charge of planning and organizing the entire bake sale, and today was finally the day. It’s early in the morning, and Geto’s helping the girls in the kitchen bake blueberry muffins so they have enough time to cool before the sale.

You stirred out of your own slumber upon hearing the girls giggling. “Hey now, you two, don’t you wake your mama up. She’s sleeping.” Your husband warns the twins, and they both try to shush each other. The giggling pursues anyway, but you don’t mind. You wouldn’t rather be woken up any other way.

As you slowly eased yourself out of bed, your stomach immediately cramped up, sending shockwaves of pain down your thighs and back at the same time.

Was it really that time of the month already?

Your stained bedsheets said yes. You must’ve started in your sleep. Great.

Upon hearing you rustling around in the bedroom, Suguru walks in, not expecting to find you haphazardly pulling the sheets off yours and his bed.

“I just washed the sheets a couple weeks ago.” Geto said with a curious smile on his face. His head tilts to the side slightly, wondering what you were doing.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Your voice is quiet and full of shame that immediately has Suguru is full-on “fix mode”.

“Hey- what happened, baby?” He asks as he shuts the bedroom door behind him, so the girls can’t come and be nosey.

You sniffle softly and turn to show Geto your poor pajama pants that were now soaked in blood, and he immediately understands.

“Oh, I’m sorry, darling. How are you feeling?” He tenderly asks as he comes and takes the sheets out of your hand. He begins to pull them off for you.

“‘m hurting really bad..” You answer him in a quiet murmur.

“Go take a bath, darling. I got everything else. Don’t worry about it.” He presses a small kiss to the top of your head. “Throw your panties and pants in the hamper. I’ll try to get the stains out.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be grossed out.”

“Of course I’m sure. I’m a grown man. I can handle anything your body does.” He assures you as he carries the sheets over towards the laundry room.

You soak in the warm bath for quite a while, but the cramps still persist. You anxiously check the time on your phone like a hundred times. The bake sale should be starting soon, so you need to get up and start getting ready.

A knock at the door disturbs your track of thought. “It’s me, darling. Can I come in?” Suguru’s voice sounds from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, come in.” You answer back to him, and Suguru carries in a cup of tea before he shuts the door.

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, princess.” He sits down on the floor next to the tub, and he carefully hands you the cup of tea.

“Thank you- I’m just trying to muster up enough strength to get up, so we can make it to the bake sale.” You say as you shift in the bath. The warm water and bubbles lap at your skin.

“Mmm, no need. Just focus on relaxing for right now, and we’ll see about making an appearance later on.”

“What do you mean? What about the girls? They’ll be devastated.”

“I had Manami take them to the sale. They’ll be fine.” He informs you as he pets your hair.

“Are you sure things will be alright? What if…”

“Ah, none of that. Things will be fine. You did a perfect job while planning everything. Our members are not incompetent people. They can handle a small bake sale, my love. I want you to just relax for today. Like I said, we might make a small appearance if you feel up to it later.”

“Sugu, I love you.”

“I love you too, darling.”

NANAMI

“Mmm, no can do. Sorry, it’ll have to be another day.” Nanami speaks into his phone as he’s looking at his calendar.

Ino has been begging to meet his wife for far too long now, so Nanami finally offered for Ino to come to yours and his house for dinner one evening. Planning it has been tough due to the vigorous schedules.

“Maybe it will just have to be next month.” Nanami shrugs his shoulders. He’s really not too bothered by not letting Ino meet you as he really tries not to involve you in his work life.

“Hm? Nanamin, what’s wrong with the 18th? We don’t have anything scheduled that day?” You ask curiously while tilting your head.

Your husband makes a face at you before he quickly taps the mute button on his phone. “Darling, according to your cycle, you’ll probably start your menstrual period that day. I highly doubt you’ll want any visitors over.”

Ah yes, you must’ve forgotten that you married a man who is literally obsessed with you and your happiness.

“That’s if my period comes on the day it’s suppose to. It could be late or early. You never know. Just invite him over. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” You assure him, waving away his concerned gaze.

Yeah, that was a fuckin mistake.

You had worked for the better half of the day preparing Katsudon for everyone to enjoy when Ino and Nanami get off work. You had to take frequent breaks: sitting down or lying down to try to weather yourself through your cramps.

Nanami was right — your period started earlier that morning, and you absolutely did not want company over today. You kept trying to persevere — not wanting to admit that Nanami might know your body better than you do. Also, you weren’t a fan of cancelling plans last minute.

Though, when the kitchen started to feel like it was over a hundred degrees in there, and the room started to spin, you knew you had to call and say something to your husband.

“Hey darling, we’re almost there. Sorry we’re running behind. I had to teach Ino how to tie a tie.” Your husband speaks over the phone, and your heart instantly sinks into your stomach. This poor boy is wearing a tie to come and meet you, but you’re fixing to cancel.

“Nanamin…” You mumble sheepishly over the phone. You feel terrible for having to cancel, but there’s just no way you can power through it.

“Are you alright, darling..?” He asks cautiously. His ability to instantly tell when something was wrong with you was still astonishing to this day.

“You were right… I don’t feel good.”

“Oh darling.. I was right? You started this morning, didn’t you?”

“… yeah.” You reluctantly admit with a small pout. It’s bad enough that you’re cramping terribly right now. Now, you have to admit just how right your husband was.

“Good thing Ino’s not with me, and I never arranged for him to come by tonight.” He says with a small huff of amusement. “I’m getting you one of those cheesecakes you really like. Then, I’ll be home.”

Oh, to be married to the king of domestic love.

“Ken, I love you. Hurry home please.” Your heart is immediately melting in your chest. Marrying him was the best decision of your life.

“I love you more, darling.”

CHOSO

There’s nothing worse than being overcrowded while on your period, and currently, that’s what was exactly happening.

Sitting between Choso and Yuji on a too small couch while Yuji lore dumped about Human Earthworm 1 and 2 was literally a nightmare, but it was even worse since your stomach was cramping up so badly to where you couldn’t even hear the words spilling from Yuji’s mouth.

Immediately, you regret agreeing to hanging out with Yuji today, but you hated seeing your cute boyfriend’s face turn to disappointment when you tell him no.

You assured him that he could hang out with Yuji without you — you didn’t mind sharing him with his little brother at all, but Choso would always say that it’s more fun with you involved.

Thus, you’re squished between the oversized males on the couch, watching the third Human Earthworm movie for like the 5th time while Itadori points out every little easter egg.

Your stomach is cramping so badly — making you feel like you’re either about to throw up or pass out or the secret option of doing both. Your cramps are literally reverberating through your thighs.

You didn’t want to make a big deal out of this, but your heart was starting to pound in your chest. You lean your head back, trying to stop the room from spinning in your head.

“Baby?” Choso’s voice echoes in your ear. Yuji pauses the movie, and they both look at you with a concerned look. Your boyfriend could immediately tell that something was wrong with you.

“Yuu, go get her some water.” Choso instructs, and he sits up on the couch. His hands start to fan over your face, wafting air towards you to help out. “Baby, can you hear me?”

Yuji quickly scrambles from the couch, and he jogs to the kitchen to get you a cold glass of water. Choso and Yuji do not look any alike, but they both have the same caring heart.

“Cho, I feel like ‘m gonna throw up.” Your voice is barely a strained whisper.

“Okay baby, hold on. Hold on for me, pretty girl.” Choso brushes your hair back from your face, and he then quickly sprints towards the bathroom to get the trashcan for you.

Choso returns quickly, and he places the trashcan in your lap. “Here you go, baby.” He whispers softly, and he places his hand gently on your shoulder for moral support. He’s not too great at these things, but he wants you to know that he’s here for you.

“What’s the matter? Are you sick or..?” He asks you, still trying to get to the root of what’s got you so ill all of a sudden.

“Cramping..” You murmur quietly, and Choso instantly feels like a fool. You told him you started your period this morning, but he completely forgot.

“I’m so sorry, baby… Do you still feel like you’re going to throw up?” He asks as his eyes never leave your face. Your head is still tilted back, and your eyes are closed.

“No.. I think it passed for now.” You reply quietly, taking the small moment of reprieve that your ovaries decided to give you.

“C’mere, princess.” Choso mumbles lowly, and he scoops you into his arms bridal style before standing up. “Let’s get you into bed, yeah? I’ll get you some pain medicine and your heating pad.”

“Mmm.. love you, Cho.” Your voice is muffled against his shoulder.

“Hey Yuu, don’t worry about that water, kay? I’m gonna get her to bed. We’ll finish the movie maybe sometime next week.” Choso calls out to his brother that is miraculously still in the kitchen.

Yuji was cowering in the kitchen with his ears covered because he heard you say you were going to throw up, and his emetophobia started acting up.

“Great! See you later!” He shouts as he sprints out the house, getting as far away from there as possible.

MEGUMI

Visiting Gojo in his vacation home was something you’ve been looking forward to for months now. Gojo owned a vacation home up towards the snowy peaks, and he invited you and Megumi to come up there and stay for a week during the winter.

You had planned so many fun activities to do with Megumi like snowboarding, skiing, or building a snowman.

Not to mention the thought of cozying up to your boyfriend in front of a fireplace sounded like exactly what you two needed after these past few stressful weeks.

The only kicker was the morning you two were set to leave, you started your period.

Trying not to panic, you packed a whole box of tampons and pads, and you packed like 15 extra pairs of underwear… just in case.

It would be fine, right? Maybe you and him could just spend more time cozied up rather than being out in the snow. Besides, Megumi didn’t really care what you two did. He was happy with whatever you picked out. As long as you two were together, he’d be fine with whatever activity.

You just had to make it through an eight hour car ride…

By hour two, your entire body is screaming at you. Your lower tummy feels like it’s on fire, and the pain is shooting through your back. No matter how many times you shift, you’re not comfortable.

It’s hot in the car, but then, it’s too cold. You’re so damn uncomfortable that you’re nearly in tears.

After your nth time shifting in your seat, Megumi finally speaks up. “Are you already that antsy? We’ve barely started..”

“No, I…” You wince before slightly doubling over in the passenger side seat. “I’m just cramping a lot.”

“Shit, really? Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks as he glances over at you with a look of concern. He’s well aware of how severe your periods can get sometimes. He’s taken care of you enough times to see exactly how much pain you’re in.

“I thought I could power through.” You sniffle, instantly feeling guilty for putting a damper on the trip.

“Hey, hey..” Megumi reaches over and runs his fingers through your hair. He keeps his other hand on the steering wheel — trying his best to drive safely and comfort you at the same time. “It’s alright. You’re really hurtin’, huh?”

“Mhm…” You quietly hum in agreement, and you lean your head on Megumi’s hand.

Without saying another word, Megumi takes the next exit, and he drives for a minute, ignoring your questions. He then pulls into a fancy looking hotel before putting the car in park.

“Stay in here for just a second, yeah? I’ll be right back.” He presses a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving the car and walking into the hotel lobby.

A few minutes pass before he returns to the car. By the time he’s back, you can already feel a migraine starting to kick in.

“Can you walk, gorgeous?” He asks tenderly as he unbuckles your seatbelt for you,

“Yeah — I can walk..” You reply in a pained voice.

“Alright. Let’s go in here. I got us a room.” He offers his hand, and he helps guide you out of the car before he grabs both of the suitcases.

“What..? What about Gojo?”

“He can wait. Your health is more important. It’s not like his vacation home will disappear over night. We’ll see how you feel about driving some more tomorrow. If not, we’ll turn back around and head home.”

“Are you sure..? I don’t wanna ruin the trip.” You sniffle before rubbing your face. Your stomach starts to cramp up again, nearly making your knees buckle. Megumi’s hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you into the hotel lobby.

“I already told you, gorgeous. I don’t care what we do. I just want to be with you.”

SUKUNA

Sukuna could smell the exact minute your period started. Blame it on him being a curse.

He avoids you like the plague when he knows you’re bleeding because he truly believes that he will only make your pain worse. He knows he’s not the nicest, so he just tries to stay out of your way.

It’s definitely not because he’s terribly afraid of women who can bleed for seven days straight and not die.

“Ryo?” Dammit. You caught him.

“Yes, woman?” He reluctantly turns to look at you. You were wearing an elegant dress that he usually loved to peel off you before completely ravaging you.

“Are we… not doing tithe today..?” You ask with a small frown. You had gotten dressed up for the purpose of addressing yours and Sukuna’s subjects.

“No… I’ll hold tithe next week.” He nods his head. Truthfully, he had concerned himself so much with avoiding you that he had forgotten all about tithe.

“But… you always do it on the first of the month..” You’re nearly in tears. Why was he avoiding you? Did he not want to be seen with you? Was he embarrassed of you now? So many insecure thoughts and high-running emotions.

Sukuna’s literally sweating. What the fuck did he say to make you upset? “Why do you cry, woman? Don’t cry. I didn’t realize tithe was that important to you. We’ll have tithe right now.”

“You don’t love me!” Fat tears are running down your cheeks. Your hormones making you feel like the worst person on planet earth right now.

“Who the fuck said that!?” Now Sukuna’s shouting too. This is a mess. He just wants you to not bleed and to not be sad.

A moment of silence between the two of you allows him to reflect for a moment. He looks at you as you’re just looking up at him with big teary eyes, and he quietly sighs before pulling you into a hug.

“Let’s go do this tithe, and then, you can explain to me what I’ve done to make you feel so down.”

Your mood changed just as fast. Maybe he did really love you! You sat on his lap at he was sitting on his throne. Curse after curse would come up and give whatever they could spare to the king as tithe.

You were sweet to each and every one, making sure to compliment each unique ‘gift’ that was bestowed upon you two. Truthfully, the curses loved having you as a queen, but even they were avoiding you today. They could smell your menstrual period as much as Sukuna could.

If you weren’t so focused on your cramps, you’d be a bummed out because now your subjects didn’t even seem to like you as much.

The king’s second pair of eyes darted towards you as soon as he could hear your breath shifting, but you still wore a smile. He decided not to question it.

But when you started to grip onto the throne and his arm tightly, your face was pale, and you could barely manage to speak, he immediately ordered everyone out.

“Alright, that’s enough. Get the fuck out.” He barked, and curses went scrambling everywhere. Hell, even Uraume took that as a direct order.

“What ails you, human?” He asks as his full attention is on you now. You’re practically a mess in his lap from the pain — feeling like you might throw up or pass out from how bad it hurts.

“Cramps.” You answer Sukuna lowly, and you try your best to breathe through them.

“How do I make them go away?” He asks, spoken like a true man… always wanting to fix everything.

“Sometimes a heating pad helps…” You wince as you can feel nausea bubbling up from how much pain you’re in.

“You said heat?” Sukuna asks as flames coat his hand.

“Not that much heat-!” You whine and shift in his lap before the flames dissipate.

“Make up your mind, woman.” He grumbles before he rests his palm on your lower tummy. His hand was still very warm from the flames, and you instantly ease in his lap.

His eyes stay fixated on you while you rest on his lap quietly, and he ever so carefully starts to rub your stomach. He finds your behavior very much cat-like. Too bad he really didn’t like cats — too unpredictable.

“How do I keep this from coming back?” He questions more to himself than to you.

“Pregnancy.” You murmur to him, half-asleep due to the immense amount of relief you felt.

“Great. I shall get you pregnant then.”

“What.”

[blkkizzat]

YAKUZA!TOJI X MILF!READER —aka toji on some joe goldberg bullshit

🎞️ 𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟐:

⟢ rating: mdni 18+ stalking, yuji is yakuza!sukuna x reader child, toji is still delulu af, size-kink, milf kink, breeding kink, voyeurism, dilf!toji, dissociative sexual fantasies, sukuna is an asshole, masturbation, killing fantasies, obsessive tendencies, heavy manipulation, brooding, yandere fluff, cute kid megumi.

⟢ episode run time: 𝟖.𝟕𝐤 ⟢ episode list: m.list ⟢ subscriber access: please comment on m.list to be tagged, rather than individual episodes as its easier for me to track. ⟢ director's note: e2 is here!! sorry for the initial issues! i hope you guys enjoy as we go deeper into toji's delulu, it's so much fun writing from his perspective. i feel like with each epi he only gets worse, hfsvsdjkfhvbsdj. he's still daddy tho.

The sky has since fallen completely dark, but the city lights of Tokyo still twinkle brightly in the distance, drowning out any stars. The light pollution still appears beautiful though, as a comforting beacon of civilization in the surrounding darkness.

The atmosphere, which had previously been so violently vibrant, has now quieted to a muted calm as the world slows down, whipping cool night air around Toji’s tense frame on his balcony.

However, it does fuck all to soothe the seared edges of his temper. 

Nor does the serene scene do anything to calm the heated exchange still taking place inside your condo.

Your domestic dispute with Sukuna fiercely rages on.

Toji savors the last few puffs of his cigarette before discarding it and quickly lighting another. Chain smoking is his last salvation, lest the persistent urge to protect you completely overtakes him and causes him to act rashly.

The current state of the organization had suspicions at an all-time high. Toji couldn’t afford that considering who he was dealing with and what all could come in between the two of you should he err from the plan. 

Closing his eyes, Toji manages to regain control by doing the one thing that never failed to pacify him—thinking of you, of course. 

Both the sweet poison and the bitter antidote to Toji, you do nothing but constantly plague his psyche. 

But perhaps it’s that he knows you need him as much as he realizes he needs you. 

Over the course of time he had watched you, it didn’t take long for Toji to conclude that you only chose to remain with Sukuna for the security he provided. Preservation and the obligations of motherhood were the only logical motivations you could have.

It was glaringly apparent that Sukuna didn’t love you. 

Even a blind man could see the truth of it.

Sukuna only visited you on rare occasions, when yakuza business took him beyond the central city limits, as Toji’s own surveillance and connections had revealed. 

And whenever he did show up, it usually led to arguments between the two of you. If you had indeed loved Sukuna at one point you weren’t foolish enough to hold onto any of those illusions now. 

Moreover, the subject of illusions—Toji had been privy to having many fantasies of you.

Weathering away at the stone around his heart he strived his whole life to build—only to then rebuild once again after his late wife—addictingly sweet visions of you so swiftly demolish the walls he set in place.

Toji allowed himself many hopeful images of what life could be like with you. 

A life of ease. 

That said, it would never be too easy. 

Toji is still a yakuza himself and he knew the organization would never let him walk away entirely. 

Nevertheless, his role was somewhat unique—an executive assassin was almost unheard of. Toji took on as many kills as he did as a way to numb and distract himself, not because it was required of him or he couldn’t pass it off to another. And ever since he’d laid eyes on you he had no desire to busy himself with anything other than you.

Toji takes pleasure in knowing he wouldn’t ever have to be away from you for long too. 

As it happens, he already owns a spacious five-bedroom home just outside Tokyo in Chiba—the previous home he had hoped to share with his late wife. Toji had planned to surprise her with it once she left the hospital.

Yet instead of leaving the hospital with Megumi’s mother by his side, Toji had walked out alone. Numbed to the world, his hand had gripped the sleek black urn that had mockingly held her remains—along with his shattered hopes.

And as a result, no one had even crossed the threshold since the purchase was made.

But that would change though now that there would be the four of you to breathe life into the home.

Who else could give you that kind of life but Toji? 

Certainly not Sukuna.

Toji would give you everything if you let him—but you weren’t an easy conquest, something he learned quickly as you prove it to him time and time again.

⟡

Toji recalls your second encounter with a sharpened clarity. It had taken him only two weeks to meticulously study your habits. The encounter had been carefully orchestrated, but despite his planning, the day hadn’t quite unfolded as Toji anticipated to say the least.

Parked down on the block of your typical walking path, Toji sat in his blacked-out Mercedes, keeping an eye on his rear-view mirror monitoring your approach. The mirror also showed Megumi, who was peacefully dozing in the backseat.

Heh, yeah he’d made damn sure to have the kid with him back then too.

Hardly older than 18 months and already a lady-killer, Megumi never failed to melt the heart of any woman who laid eyes upon his abundant chubby-cheeked cuteness. 

Not like Toji had ever really needed to expend the effort before now. He knew just a mere look from him could get panties leaking, but you’d be harder to conquer than that. 

Toji would enjoy taking his time, which if he thought about previously he would have deemed odd—he’d never been one to hold himself back or take his time with a woman.  

Not anymore. 

Not since her at least. 

But the agony that had accompanied thoughts of his late wife had dulled considerably since he’d first started observing you. 

A bonus of that being it no longer hurts as much to see Megumi—not when he would picture you rocking him in your arms.

Toji had even gone so far as to believe that she would have approved, that she would have liked you. He imagined she would have gladly chosen you to take care of both Megumi and him if she’d known you.

A familiar form appears in the rear-view mirror and Toji knows it’s game time.

Here you were, a reward for his diligence in tracking your habits, right on schedule.

Your features sparkled in the summer sun as you pushed Yuji along in his stroller, humming a tune while the child giggled along clapping. 

The kid’s bubbly deposition had to come from you, Toji decided—surely none of it could have come from, nor been influenced by, Sukuna. 

Toji wondered if you could even make a somber child like Megumi smile.

Biding in-wait until you passed, Toji snatched up Megumi and kept far enough distance so as to not alarm you of his presence. 

His original plan had been to exit the car as you passed by and walk into the store together. But that all changed when Toji got the first glimpse of what you were wearing. 

Toji would avoid being noticed by you, but your attire made it near impossible for him not to notice you.

The dress you wore was barely made modest enough to wear in public by the cardigan you draped over it. A less curvaceous woman could have likely pulled it off without turning a head.  

However on your body, the way the thin loose fabric hung off your shape as it clung onto the moist areas of perspiration like a second skin—was fucking obscene. 

Especially as despite your continued efforts, the crack of your ass kept gobbling up your sundress no matter how many times you subtly tried to yank it free.

Toji bet your ass could swallow his cock up just as well. 

Damn.

Toji wished the walkup to the store was longer. 

He’d never been one for prayer, but he would have started if whatever God deemed it fit right at that very moment to send an unanticipated gust of wind. 

Your lack of panty line had his mind racing as to whether you wore a thong or were just slutty enough to be outside bare-assed in a short sundress mid-afternoon.

The green of your sundress matched his eyes too and Toji took it as another sign from the universe, he was on the right path by pursuing you like this.

You were doing this intentionally just to tease him, weren't you? 

Hoping he’d see you like this and to tempt him into taking a peek, right?

Entering the grocery store, Megumi seated in-cart, Toji continued tailing you as you shopped.

True to the homemaker he previously confirmed you to be, you picked up mostly fresh produce, prime cuts of meat from the butcher, and some pantry baking items. 

You were capable of more than just the frozen dinners he’d be more accustomed to if not for his Nanny’s cooking. She was a decent enough cook too—but she wasn’t you. 

Nothing she cooked smelled a fraction as good as the mostly foreign, but appetizing, smells that wafted from under your door to fill the hall with warm spices.

The food you would make him, once Toji gets you settled in your new home, would definitely be much better. 

You were truly perfect, well nearly so.

After tailing you down a few aisles, Toji suspects the one minor flaw you may have is you appeared to be the absentminded type. 

How else could you be disregarding his overbearing presence as he continuously had put himself in your line of vision? Restlessness overtook Toji as he waited for you to look up and catch his eye, giving him a casual opening.

You had been too consumed with your phone to notice his attempts— which if he would guess, wouldn’t be successful anytime soon. 

Grumbling, Toji had to take matters into his own hands if he wanted to shop with you at all.

Easy enough too, you were already so carelessly distracted.

Momentarily taking his eyes off you, Toji calculated how long it would take you to reach the end of the aisle. So as you moved from one aisle to the next, he casually nudged his cart into your path, creating a T-bone collision that made it look like you were at fault for leaving the aisle.

The bang was jolting enough to finally draw your attention.

“OH MY GOD! I WASN’T WATCHING WHERE I WAS GOING! I’M SO SORRY– I-I …Fushiguro?!”

Heh, took ya long enough to notice. 

“Well, hey doll. Long time no see, ma.”

A flagrant lie. 

Toji had seen you nearly everyday—you just hadn’t seen him. 

He could tell you were flustered and embarrassed as multiple heads in the store had turned towards the two of you from the rattling collision. 

You couldn’t apologize enough to Toji who was on cloud nine from your attention focused on him.

And as Toji had predicted, your attention was soon stolen by the black spikey haired baby boy seated in his cart.

“Oh wow Fushiguro!!—” 

“—Toji, ma.”

A smirk bloomed across his features as you rolled your eyes at him, continuing your affections towards Megumi.

“—I remember you said you had a son but I didn’t know you had a little mini-me, he’s so adorable!”

Toji didn’t fail to notice the double—no triple, take you had given between himself and Megumi. 

He also couldn't help but see how your big ass tiddies looked—like they wanted to bounce right outta that sundress and into his mouth—as you bent down to get a closer look at Megumi. 

No bra too?

Oh, you’d surely be the death of him.

But Toji's cock wasn’t the only part of him swelling, his heart rate sped like crazy just from watching you fuss over Megumi so apologetically—much like a loving mom soothing her own child at the sight of him sniffling back tears. 

For a moment, Yuji’s giggling drew Toji’s attention as the boisterous kid seemed to think it was some sort of ride. Needing no comfort at all, Yuji merrily squealed with laughter at the impact, continuing to stuff rice puff snacks into his little face.

The distraction kept Toji from warning you not to pick up Megumi and before he Toji knew what was happening— you scooped Megumi up. Settling Megumi into your arms, Toji noted you cradled him with the same joy radiating from you as you did Yuji—and much to Toji’s shock—Megumi let you.

It went without saying that Megumi wasn't the friendliest kid. 

Toji suspected he had inherited that from him, along with his trademark scowl. The little terror was known to pitch a screaming fit if someone other than Toji or his nanny picked him up. 

However, in your hold, Megumi appeared calm—angel-like even—as far as Toji was concerned.

More curious than upset, Megumi's tears dried at the corners of his eyes as he reached out to gently bop your nose with his tiny fist.

“Aye! Manners, kiddo.”

Toji chides Megumi, but inside he is amazed by the interaction. 

Returning the gesture, you softly boop Megumi's nose with the pad of your finger, causing him to grab it in defiance, as you offered him softly whispered apologies for upsetting him.

This served to confirm in Toji’s mind the place you belonged in his life. 

He couldn’t be wrong about you. 

You were perfect.

Everything was aligning better than he could have hoped for.

“No harm done ma, Megumi can take a lick. Just like his daddy.” 

You shook your head at Toji and gently rubbed soothing circles on Megumi’s back, cooing at him.

“Oh? So you’re growing up strong like your daddy, huh, Megumi?”

Megumi tilted his head slightly, his thumb resting gently in his mouth.

“Just don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re smooth like he does.”

You shot Toji a teasing smirk, immediately resulting in a half chub pressed against his suit pants.

Now you were… teasing him? 

Oh, you had no fucking idea just how smooth Toji could be when he wanted. And Toji planned to put 3 more kids inside of you soon too, just as smoothly.

Those facts withstanding, Toji could tell his son hadn’t quite made up his mind about you yet. Megumi just blinked at you, but the fact that he wasn't screaming his head off was good enough for Toji.

“Don’t let the blank stare fool you, ma, he likes you. Trust, ya would know if he didn’t. Just takes him a while to warm up to most folks.”

You gave Toji another playful smile.

“Hmm, and wonder who he got that from?”

Primal urges surged in his veins as Toji wanted nothing more than to grab you in his arms at that moment, although Toji settled for countering with a smirk of his own.

“We’re not that bad ma—once you get to know us.”

Toji flashed a toothy grin at you, amused by the upward pull at the corners of your lips as you tried and failed, not to be entertained by him. 

You gently set Megumi back down in the cart, smoothing down his onesie and safely buckling him in before turning back to Toji.

“I’m sure Megumi is a perfectly sweet kid, who just needs to come into his own a bit.”

“Eh? And whadda ‘bout me, mamas?”

“The jury is still out on you—Fushiguro.”

“—Toji,” he corrected once again—and again you responded by rolling your pretty eyes under those long thick lashes of yours.

Oh, Toji had just the thing for that ass since you liked to roll your eyes back that much. 

Toji imagined how deeply they’d be lodged into your head once he stuffed you full of his fat cock—all in one go—effectively pushing your guts up into your chest. 

Yeah, he had it bad for you—real bad.

Unable to stop the many intrusive sexual thoughts that would spring in his mind just from being close enough to smell the scent of your sweet vanilla and jasmine perfume.

Yet Toji couldn’t let the chance pass to press his limits with you.

“So—How about ya give me y’er number so we can set up a playdate, eh? Since ya think Megumi’s such a sweet kid and all, mamas.” 

Caught off guard, you looked away from Toji in contemplation, chewing on your lip.

“Hm... I-I don't think that’s such a good idea, Fushiguro.”

You shift your stance a bit, taking on a defensive posture. 

Tch, fuck. You’d be harder to crack than Toji originally thought. 

Plus you seemed to still have some loyalty to Sukuna, even if you held no love for him.

But that was all fine, Toji calculates—a good thing even.

That just meant you would be all the more loyal to him once he did have you.  

Thinking on his feet, Toji subtly switches tactics, playing dumb as he lifts a brow.

“Toji, doll, but ya know what I do for work. Think I gots time to be babysitting brats? What, s’not a good idea for the nanny to bring Gumi by?”

“Oh! Of course the nanny! Yeah that’s fine, erm, that's… sorry. I thought—”

“—thought, what mamas? You tryna get a playdate with me too? ”

Toji couldn’t hold back his laughter as your eyes widened in shock. 

Embarrassment washed over you like a tsunami, intensified by Toji's teasing. You hid half your face with one hand while the other gripped the grocery cart handle so tightly that Toji half-expected it to snap off.

“Kiddin’ ma—lighten up a ‘lil eh? Ya left y’erself wide open for that one, doll.”

Sighing in defeat, you finally conceded to his charms, exchanging numbers with him solely so his nanny could coordinate the playdates.

“I see you think you got jokes, Fushiguro.”

Toji relished the win as your smile returned. 

“Ya know I do—and it's Toji, mama.”

With that shift, Toji was pleased to see you gradually lower your guard around him, the ice between you started to melt. You continued your shopping together, Toji casually picking up a few items, occasionally seeking your advice on what to feed Megumi.

Truth be told, he had no idea. The nanny always handled all the shopping.

Subtly taking the lead in the conversation, Toji casually provoked you into revealing more about yourself. Details he couldn’t piece together—like where you grew up, what your life was like before Japan and what brought you here—all which he cataloged meticulously in his mind. 

Toji wanted to ask how a smart girl planning to be a doctor with a full-ride exchange program scholarship to Tokyo University got knocked up by a dumb fuckhead like Ryomen Sukuna—but the very last thing he wanted you to think about when you were with him was Sukuna.  

However, each piece of information he learned of you convinced him more of how much he wanted you—

“Oh yeah, Fushiguro! Despite what you said, I actually managed to make a friend!”

–all to himself.

Tch, a fuckin’ friend?

Toji’s demeanor darkened, but you didn’t notice—too busy humming to yourself while checking apples for bruises in the produce section.

Not like this information came as a particular surprise to him, Toji's eyes narrowed as he could guess exactly who it was right away.

Toji had seen the tall raven-haired woman whose afternoon jogs in the park so-conveniently aligned with your walks with Yuji. You both would exchange pleasantries as she admired your son, and you her commitment to fitness, that you would say you never seemed to have the time for these days. 

Yet your interactions from what he had seen never ventured much beyond that. 

Although Toji would normally oblige you a few friends, having a friend here would complicate his plans.

The women of The Nursery up until now had done such a good job in isolating you all on their own without him having to lift a finger. Toji was relying on their catty caste system to ultimately drive you into his arms, as the only person you could rely on.

Toji couldn’t have one of them ruin that. 

He needed to know more about this ‘friend’ of yours. 

How well have you gotten to know each other? 

And in what ways?

The fact that this development happened right under his watchful eye, without him knowing the depth of it, had Toji cross to say the least.

Thankfully, your isolation had you starved for an attentive ear, so you were eager to spill your guts about your new friend to him. 

And as the good future husband he’d be to you, Toji was sure to listen now as he would in the future—or at least appear like he was most of the time.

“She’s new like me! Well, not new I suppose, but back for a stay here with her fiancé until things calm down due to all the commotion happening overseas now.”

So that woman did intend to leave. 

Good. 

The sooner the better so Toji’s own hand wouldn’t have to be forced and your little ‘friend’ could be spared. 

Toji couldn’t have anything or anyone coming in between the two of you—no matter the consequences from who they were.

“She doesn’t have any kids so I’ve been giving her tips and sharing how I dealt with Yuji this past year. She always seems to be busy though, so we haven’t really had the chance to really do anything—but she calls me often.”

Toji’s teeth clenched. 

They dared to make phone contact even?

And bad girl—you’d been so eager to give this stranger, who had no respect for boundaries, your number but you hesitated with him?

What did Toji need to do to show you he was the only one with your best interests in mind?

Toji was the only one you should have confided in and the only one you should trust.

“Heh, well isn’t that nice, ma.”

Toji would have to figure out how to deal with the problem of your new friend at a later time. He didn’t want to spend the fleeting moments he had remaining with you brooding, as it was sure to soon show on his face and sour the mood.

Pivoting the subject back to just the two of you, Toji inquired about the baked goods he’s still owed. He could tell you’d forgotten already, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity he had to taste your cooking. 

It would keep him sated long enough until he could actually taste you.

“Ya know, I usually don’t like sweets though.”

Toji told you when you asked his favorite dessert and you were genuinely determined you could bake him something he’d like.

“Hmm, you know I can make a mean fudge brownie! I make them with semi-sweet chocolate too. Plus, since I moved here I also cut some sugar and added matcha to the recipe, so they wouldn’t be too sweet. they are so gooey they melt in your mouth.”

“Heh, yeah—I bet you would too, ma.”

This time, you didn’t suppress your amused cackle as you shook your head and pushed your cart forward, still overall ignoring his persistent flirtations even if you were growing more comfortable with them.

Toji sensed the playful personality you’d kept tightly wrapped under all those layers from being with Sukuna, whose cruel sense of humor would only serve to crush yours. 

Toji couldn’t wait to be the one to fully draw it back out of you.

“Ugh—boy, you play too much, Fushiguro!”

Toji chuckled, pushing his cart along after yours—he could tell your cheeks were still burning though. 

“—Toji, ma.”

When you both finally reached the register, Toji checked out first, slyly sliding his card to cover your groceries as well.

You were completely unaware though, having left your cart with him in line while you rushed Yuji to the bathroom.

Yuji, being the growing boy that he was, had devoured his rice snacks too quickly and promptly spat them up all over himself.

Feeling smug in his chivalry, Toji anticipated seeing an even sweeter smile when you returned to find your groceries already paid for.

Yet, he’d seemingly made another miscalculation with you. 

As when you returned to see your groceries bagged and paid for, you kept Yuji in your arms as you placed your bags of groceries in the stroller itself, storming out without a word leaving behind a dumbfounded Toji.

Toji was more than puzzled as you seemed furious at the fact Toji had done what he deemed to be ‘a-nice-thing-any-woman- would-want’. 

The fuck happend?!

Shifting Megumi and own bag in his arms, Toji swiftly pursued you. 

“Oy, mamas!”

You ignored him but Toji wouldn’t give up on you easily, or at all truthfully. 

You didn’t realize that yet but Toji figured you must have gathered he was bullheaded enough to keep following you until you acknowledged him once you abruptly stopped and whipped around to face him.

“What, no ‘thank you’ f’er me, ma?”

Toji watched your nostrils flare as you angrily snapped at him.

“Thank you?!” 

God, you were beautiful—even pissed off. 

Toji knows he should be more focused on what you were saying in the moment, as you heatedly  gave him a piece of your mind. However, Toji zoned out momentarily, unable to quiet his internal thoughts that screamed to him how pretty you were with your brow furrowed and cheeks puffed in indignation. 

“... and furthermore you think you can just buy me, is that it?! That just because I have to rely on Sukuna and accept living in a building full of side hoes to give Yuji a comfortable life that I’ll just giggle and go along with anything like the rest of those bitches?!”

Shit. 

You were actually pissed. 

Ah fuck. 

Toji had greatly underestimated your self-worth. Once again, you proved him wrong—and once more, that pleased him. It further highlighted how you were in fact a pearl among The Nursery pigs.

“Uh, Fuck mamas, er–I-I…no–”

Yet you proved to be such a wildcard that you had Toji of all people stuttering as he scrambled to find the right words to appease you.

“—then what?! Say something!”

Toji had to think fast. 

He could see how it looked bad now, but in a rare form from his usual nature, Toji’s intentions had been honest. Toji just really wanted to show you he had the means and could take care of you—not to buy you. 

Nonetheless, Toji really only had himself to blame as he’s sure you’ve heard of his far less than pious reputation. 

Ostracized or not, the bougie women of The Nursery were terrible gossips and he was sure you’d overheard plenty less than savory information about him. 

Of course, with all things considered, you’d assume the worst of him.  

But Toji had never even bothered to learn any of those bitches names, much less buy them anything—they would give him gifts.

In this situation though, to quell your anger and regain your favor, Toji devised a quick lie, hoping it would smooth things over.

“Tch,” he began, scratching the back of his head and awkwardly looking away from you.

He had to be sure to sell it. 

“No, it’s just ah, the guy—er, the teller. He assumed we were together.” 

Toji shifted his stance, readjusting a drowsy Megumi in his arms.

“So, you told him we were…?” 

You raised a brow, huffing but you didn’t seem as angry as before. Toji saw your eyes soften a bit, distracted by a cute lil yawn from Megumi who sleepily burrowed his face deeper into his shoulder.

Good kid, lookin out for y’er old man, aye Gumi?

Seeing how Megumi was disarming you, Toji knew this was his chance at redemption. Like a gentle giant, Toji’s large hand dwarfed his son’s small head with affection pats—an action he had picked up from observing you.

“Not exactly—but I supposed it looked that way, ma. What with the kids n’ya leaving all y’er shit with me n’all. Easier to just pay then explain.”

Toji continued before you could say anything, seeing as you didn’t look quite convinced.

“Trust me, from all of what you told me today, I know ya can take care of y’erself mamas… even if you are with that asshole.”

You regarded Toji with a scrutinizing gaze for all of a minute, yet that minute felt like hours to him. 

He couldn’t remember feeling this uneasy ever—and being in the Yakuza put him in several situations in the past he thought he wouldn’t make it out of. 

“Fine,” you resigned with a sigh, “It’s whatever then.” 

Seeing that you had set aside the words you originally intended to scold him with, Toji felt that this was the best possible outcome he could have hoped for.

Well shit, bullet dodged.

“Uh yeah, well…I’ll see you around then Fushiguro—”

Toji couldn’t just let you leave like this, on uneasy terms with your frustration still evident.

“—Wait ma!”

And even more so as Toji stopped you once again.

“Look…I ain’t too big to admit I fucked up, mamas. Let me make it up to ya, yeah? Give ya a ride back so ya don’t hafta walk back in this heat?”

Toji knew you wanted to reject his offer out of pride, but he was serious now—there was no fuckin’ way he was gonna let you walk back. 

Your load of groceries was way more than your usual trips, and on top of carrying Yuji, a sizable boy for his age, your purse and pushing the stroller would turn a 15 minute walk into a 25 minute one easily. 

The scorching summer sun perched high at its peak at this time of day and the thick, near suffocating, humidity could easily turn to heat exhaustion—especially for a young toddler.

He knew you knew that too.

You’d have to accept, per Toji’s calculations.

And you did.

“Okay, why not...” 

Yet the reluctance was clear in your voice. 

The ride back began uneventfully, yet the calm atmosphere inside the car was tinged with awkwardness. 

Megumi was snoozing in his car seat, while Yuji sat on your lap in the passenger seat. 

Despite the lingering tension, Toji could see the relief on your face. The transition from the sweltering heat to the cool comfort of his air-conditioned Mercedes had clearly brought you much-needed respite.

The domesticality of it all was something Toji didn’t realize he would miss as much as he did, and it pissed him off that it was something Sukuna of all people had and took for granted. 

However, when Toji glanced over at you, he tightened his grip on the wheel with both hands.

Your actions were purely innocent as you entertained Yuji, bouncing him on your knees. However, the movement caused your sundress to lift and bunch damn near to your hips. 

Toji swore he could feel the steering wheel crack under his grip as he fought the urge to slide a hand onto your thigh, or at minimum over his soon-to-be-bricked-up cock. 

Fuck. Get it together. 

But there was nothing Toji could have done to stop his dissociative daydreams, which had grown increasingly vivid since laying eyes on you, from consuming him. 

The sleek hardness of the leather steering wheel morphed to be malleable like the inner flesh of your thighs. Toji gripped the wheel tighter, which only made the visualization of how soft your skin would be in contrast to the texture of his calloused hand more apparent. The same hand which would so graciously sink into the warm plush of your skin with reassuring squeezes. 

Finally, Toji would also get his answer as to whether or not you had been wearing panties. Toji’s wandering hand would only need to travel up the tiniest bit higher to press his knuckles right against your core.

And when it came down to it, whether you had them on or not mattered little to Toji—regardless of the result, he still intended to bully his thick middle knuckle directly into your clit. 

Toji would take satisfaction in keeping his main attention on the road as he engaged you in casual conversation—all the while drawing slow absentminded circles around your bud. He would only pause if he felt the lil’ thing swell up enough—to the point where the soft clicking sounds from your slick could be heard if there wasn’t music playing. 

He’d edge you with subtle, yet incessant, pleasure all the way home. Seeing just how much of his teasing your messy cunt could handle.

Toji's mind was stuck so badly in-between your thighs that he’d actually been caught off guard when you finally broke the silence, eagerly asking about his playlist as “How Do U Want It” pumped through the car speakers. 

And that's how Toji managed to worm his way back into your good graces.

You seemed genuinely surprised to discover he was also a fan of ’90s hip-hop when he told you he was. 

Of course, being a fan of ’90s hip-hop wasn’t a lie—but he had heard this particular song playing from your apartment before, so he made sure to add it to a playlist for whenever he’d be able to get you into his car. 

Much to Toji’s enjoyment, before long you were laughing again as he attempted—very, very poorly—to rap along to some of the lyrics in English. 

Pleased to have won you back over, Toji purposely missed at least two turns just to keep you in his car a bit longer.

If the day had ended there, he would have considered it a win. 

But, of course, with his luck, things would prove to be anything but victorious.

Naturally, once you both returned, Toji carried your bags upstairs. However, that didn’t stop him from playfully teasing you.

Toji joked that—‘Miss Independent didn’t want him paying for her groceries, but she sure as hell didn’t mind him carrying them’—and was rewarded again with the soft snorts of your laughter.

It’s not like you didn’t have your hands full though, cradling both Megumi and Yuji, who were now fast asleep—one on each of your shoulders.

It was…cute.

Fuck, when even was the last time Toji even thought something was cute? 

You were cute though, especially with the kids. 

That he didn’t mind admitting. 

Toji regretted that he didn't snap a picture of the moment. He knew it would likely be over soon.

Heh, maybe it didn’t have to be though.

With both boys asleep in your arms, Toji considered the likelihood of coaxing you to invite him in. You’d surely need help carrying both Yuji and your bags inside—but he didn’t want to push his luck, especially after he had already majorly fucked things up with you once today.

Although, Toji realized you wouldn’t need any convincing when you looked at him with a kind smile that reached all the way into your bright eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed to step across the threshold, technically uninvited, as he held the door open for you.

Toji would have entered too, had the energy not immediately shifted. 

“—and just what the fuck is this?”

Motherfucker.

Down the hallway, Sukuna had since stepped out of the elevator with his right hand, Uraume, close behind. Sukuna appeared already agitated, barking rushed orders over the phone. 

But Sukuna abruptly ended the call the moment he saw Toji about to enter the condo with you. And as if he owned the entire building himself, Sukuna exuded obnoxious dominance in every stride as he approached. 

Toji may have outranked him but Sukuna rivaled Toji in both size and presence, sauntering over to loom behind you with an unmistakable air of possessiveness.

Tch, Sukuna shouldn’t even be here. 

Toji had miscalculated—a rare miscalculation, but a big one nonetheless—what he gets, he supposed, for trusting a less than meticulous intel source. 

According to his, now incorrect intel, Sukuna was supposed to be in Shinjuku at headquarters. The fact that he was here, interfering with his time he had so meticulously planned with you, infuriated Toji. 

Shit—he hadn’t wanted Sukuna to see you two together just yet.

Despite Toji being unable to hide his disdain, he offered a respectful nod to Sukuna, as was customary between fellow upper-ranked yakuza. 

Sukuna returned the gesture in-kind, along with a smug grin that had plastered itself across his face.

Tension saturated the air and Toji noticed that your once-gentle smiles had faded, replaced by wary glances exchanged between him and Sukuna. 

Toji’s hand causally brushed yours as you carefully handed Megumi back to him before you faced Sukuna.

He noticed you running the spot on your hand where your skin had touched.

Did you also feel the electricity between the two of you burn your skin?

Toji had.

“If I knew you were coming, you could have picked me up from the store, Ryo! Then I wouldn’t have had to be a bother to Fushiguro...”

You could never be a bother to Toji.

Looking you over, Toji scrutinized your every movement. He knew you were merely trying to shift focus and keep the peace—but to do it for him? 

After everything today, and how he unintentionally put his foot in his mouth with his actions?

Were—were you falling for him, already?

The slightly strained smile on your face still looked sweet enough, and Toji might have mistaken it for genuine—if not for the real warmth you’d shown him just moments before Sukuna’s arrival. 

You really had saved your smiles just for him, isn’t that right mama?

Toji’s heart beats wildly at the thought, however his good temperaments were greatly diminished as he noted how the light in your eyes dimmed.

Seeing you shrink yourself to answer to Sukuna, no matter how insignificant—pissed him off.

Well, at least thanks to him, you wouldn’t have to suffer Sukuna much longer.

As Toji had expected, Sukuna didn’t try to suppress his asshole-like nature, even towards you. Your attempted olive branch had been rebuffed by the heavy hand on your shoulder. It was evident Sukuna was unconcerned with your excuses as he focused solely on Toji.

“Ah Fushiguro, I see you’ve met my son and his mother.”

Even though Sukuna had failed to give you a title, the intent behind his words and demeanor was unmistakable: 

Sukuna owned you.

So that's how it is, eh? 

Toji couldn’t say he was surprised.

Although his possessive nature wasn't driven by affection for you, Sukuna simply never liked to share his toys.

Sukuna must have thought you were just another plaything for Toji, well aware of what Toji got up to typically at The Nursery, 

Eh, and were you any other woman, Sukuna would have been right. 

But you were never toy to Toji, he wanted much more than just to fuck you, even before he realized it himself. 

Toji would be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to that too though. 

“Heh, we’ve already had our introductions before, isn’t that right…?” 

Toji was pleased by the flushed, wide-eyed expression on your face when he dared to address you by your first name—just as he was pleased that Sukuna’s smirk faltered into a scowl at Toji’s bold familiarity with you.

Toji mainly did it to piss Sukuna off. However seeing you flustered, knowing he could have an effect on you even in front of Sukuna, had been a much sweeter treat. 

“Oh? Then she must know not to pay heed to old roosters who are now forced to spend more time in the hen house than running the farm these days. Although, a rooster who cannot crow effectively is of little use anywhere else, I suppose.”

Toji’s expression held firm onto the casual smugness he wore, but inside he was boiling. 

Toji knew exactly what Sukuna was referring to.

Since his late wife passed, Toji had been only sent for specialized jobs that required his immense powerhouse abilities. Although he could easily air out a room of 20 men, Toji was considered to be more of a loose cannon than ever before.

Simply not caring—Toji took his anger out on more than just his targeted kills with no second thoughts given to the collateral damage of the environment he was in nor the civilian casualties around. Thus Toji made the damage control messier and harder on the organization in cases where more precision was needed. 

Some would have called that a liability and had him dealt with, yet the bigger liability still would be trying to ‘deal with’ Toji in the first place. 

Many had tried over the years for one reason or another—and it had been a guaranteed death sentence every time too. 

Regardless, Toji had remained dog loyal to the organization though, with little care for power or status, even though it came to him anyway. 

As long as he was paid, Toji had been content—and in turn, so had the organization. 

This resulted in Toji mostly being able to do as he pleased, even when he went a little rogue at times. 

“Rooster, eh—”

Toji knew Sukuna’s condescending smug attitude stemmed from the special privileges he’d been given to sit in on the executive meetings to solve the current unrest of having to do with whatever old fuck of an executive had gotten himself offed.

Regardless, it could still be seen as a loss of status not being in those meetings.

More importantly—Toji’s rogue behaviors could easily be manipulated into a target on his back should Sukuna assert he’d been a part of the internal treason.

Toji knew he had to tread cautiously with Sukuna, but Toji still did not feel threatened in the least.

“—I’d like to think of myself here as more of a fox though, it suits me better don’t ya think?” 

Toji’s gaze had briefly met your own, and you quickly turned away, his grin growing even wider.

But then again, if Sukuna wanted to think Toji was down and out—Toji would let him. 

It would work to Toji’s advantage in the long run with securing you as his anyway. 

Toji wasn’t worried as he had nothing to do with that old geezer getting wacked and he was glad they’d left him out of it.

Besides, Sukuna being brought into the inner circle could have just as easily been a way to keep a closer watch on him. After all, Sukuna wasn’t an executive—and while Toji was, his role was to eliminate threats, not uncover them. It made more sense for Toji to stay away than for Sukuna to be involved at all.

All which was a net win for Toji, as he found himself with more opportunities to spend time with you, while the organization conveniently kept Sukuna occupied.

With a swift, smooth motion, Toji bent down to retrieve the stray apple that had rolled from your grocery bag. He polished it against his suit jacket before handing it back to you with a sly smile.

“Ya know, I am just next door lil’ hen. This ol’fox is still capable of being a good neighbor. I’ll always have plenty of sugar for you too, should you ever find yourself in need…”

Toji turns to Sukuna.

“...Especially since Sukuna has his hands full on the upper levels of the farm these days, eh? S’a wonder at all how ya manage to visit the hens on this floor too.”

Toji watched with amusement as your eyes widened at the blatant innuendos given right in front of Sukuna, who merely was left growling as his cell audibly and persistently vibrated.

Sukuna deemed the call more important than the coded banter with Toji, as he all but dragged you and Yuji into the condo—leaving the groceries for Uraume to bring in.

Although he had won the battle of the day, Toji regretted his actions later that evening when he inevitably lost the war.

Sukuna made sure to let it be known Toji lost too, as Sukuna had fucked you against the adjoining wall of the master bedroom so hard the entire wall shook.

Your pained yet pleasure-filled moans seeped through the thick insulation of the walls.

Using you like you were just one of his toys, Sukuna was quite literally pounding the point home that you belonged to him with every forceful quake.

Point taken, but what angered Toji more was Sukuna was being too rough with you.

Toji could have sworn he heard you plead for Sukuna to slow down and the irony of his concern was not lost on Toji. 

Toji was never known for being a particularly gentle lover himself, but your body had been through enough—you’re a mother now. 

You deserved better than the careless treatment of some cheap plastic fuck doll. 

Nevertheless, despite the roughness, it was clear from the diluted moans through the insulation—you had liked it.

Sukuna was still making you cum. 

And oh god, did Toji ever want to prove to your precious pussy that his thick inches would fuck her even harder if that’s what she asked of him.

Toji had to repress a frustrated groan when he realized he was painfully hard. 

Your damped cries had Toji palming himself for relief before he even knew what he was doing.

Yet for all the perverse arousal he felt, Toji did feel some semblance of guilt. 

His taunting of Sukuna ensured that this punishment was a lesson for the both of you.

But—Fuck. 

Toji couldn’t deny his sadistic side.

He was a killer after all. 

Even the distressed tremor of your euphoric moans sounded absolutely heavenly to him, and it wasn’t long before Toji fumbled with his own belt to drag out his heavily leaking cock. 

Thick humid breaths left Toji as he hissed from having thumbed off the viscous pre-gathering on his redden tip. 

Toji slowly spread it down his pulsing length, shuddering. 

His frustrations at not being the one touching you—not being the one making you shiver and moan, are only rivaled by his frustration of this being the first time he’s had any real fire in his loins since he’s met you.

The fierce desire to cum was overtaking his more rational brain or self-control as he’d hadn’t been this hard in weeks, even when he’d rub one out from watching old security footage of you.

Wanting any semblance of contact, Toji placed his free hand on the wall—on the exact spot he imagined Sukuna had your cheek pressed against. 

With closed eyes, Toji pictured himself cupping your face, thumb smoothing away any stray hairs or tears while he is the one thrusting into you, filling you.

His large hand encompassed his length while he thrusted into his rough palm, faster now that the speed of the thumping had increased—signaling Sukuna was close to finishing you.

Swallowing a frustrated roar, your muted cries for Sukuna through the wall brought Toji out of his fantasies and back to the harsh reality that Sukuna was the one balls deep in your tight milf pussy—while he was only in his own hand.

Nevertheless, Toji was determined to cum and even more so, determined to soon be the one making you scream in pleasure. 

If you were this loud now—you’d be much louder on his cock. 

Toji leaned in even closer, resting his head on his forearm against the wall, the wall that still shuddered with the force of Sukuna ruthlessly rearranging your guts. 

Forcing himself to dissociate once more, so he could finish—Toji squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he bit his lip to the point of drawing blood. In the daydream, in Toji’s mind, it wasn’t the coarse skin of his palm that stroked his cock but the silky, wet heat of your cozy lil’ cunt. 

Toji convinced himself that the sloshing noises that rang throughout his bedroom were from him stretching your pussy to his shape as his fat tip slammed against your cervix— and not from the embarrassing amount of pearlescent fluid spilling over his hand. 

He hadn’t even cum yet—a testament to how backed up he truly was. 

Toji should have been ashamed at the way his girth had pulsed in his palm, but he was so close, and so determined to finish with you, there was no room for ego.

Picking up speed to nearly the point of chafing, Toji jerked his cock feverishly. Toji came when he heard the loudest moan yet vibrate through the wall, and the banging had ceased with a final jarring shake. 

Rolling back his eyes, Toji released his load all over the wall of his master bedroom, finally sated. Toji had allowed himself to release a strangled groan of relief, once he believed you both were no longer near the wall.

Panting and half-delirious with euphoric release, Toji’s eyes followed the trail of his thick cum splatter slowly trickling down the wall as his once engorged cock deflated in his hand. 

With a curled lip and narrowed-in eyes, the white fluid turns red in his mind’s eye. 

A dark chuckle escaped his lips and Toji fantasized what it would be like to put a slug right between Sukuna’s eyes. Toji’s large load pooled onto the floor in a similar fashion to how Sukuna’s brains would leak, spilling out as it also formed a similarly morbid pool of fluids.

Yet even despite his more ruthless inclinations, upon inhaling a deep breath, Toji felt an unfamiliar zen wash over him.

Killing was just business to Toji, and he couldn’t recall the last time the thought of offing someone had brought him this much pleasure or any semblance of peace.

Yet the fact revealed itself to him then, in that moment—the truth that he’d kill everyone in this goddamn organization for you if that's what it took.

Toji knew Sukuna wasn’t one of those cowardly fucks who would just roll over while someone moved in on his woman either, so Toji would likely be forced to kill him should Sukuna ever find out his true plans for you. 

Toji sighs reluctantly—it was just a mere fantasy.

Not that he gave two fucks what would happen to Sukuna, but killing him would only fan the flames and might even cause an all-out internal war within the organization. 

A war that as the top assassin, he’d be expected to quell with force—for god knows how long.

Ultimately, that would mean a loss for Toji too.

The more involved with the organization he was, the less time he’d get with you.

Brute force was never the ideal way to deal with someone like Sukuna, and it would be better for everyone if you seemingly left him of your own accord. 

But what other choice did he have? 

He’d do what it took to get you at the end of the day.

And while these complications may have deterred a younger Toji, you, as well as the challenge itself, breathed new life into his aging bones.

That life extended into all areas of his current one. Even the usually reserved Megumi had become less quiet and more responsive to Toji with his changed demeanor and increased presence around The Nursery.

You didn’t even know how much you were fixing his life even if you were only on the outskirts of it now. 

You had made him better—so in turn, he would give you better.

Toji had no real interests, hobbies, nor friends. 

Your moving-in had been the most exciting thing that had happened to him since she had been alive and Toji had lived the last year of his life on autopilot—but no more. 

Now that he had something, well, someone that made him feel energized once again. 

⟡

The familiar trill of a cell phone—one of the many burners he used for his yakuza dealings—pulls Toji out of his thoughts once again.

His lip curls in annoyance at the person on the line.

This is why Toji likes working alone. 

Others were not only liabilities, but they were rarely ever self-sufficient. 

Always wanting to ‘check-in’ and ‘confirm the plan’, rather than just taking the damn action themselves like they were supposed to. 

But alas, the task of getting rid of Sukuna was something Toji knew he couldn’t do alone, he needed the intel source, even if they were unreliable at best. 

Toji answers the call, but keeps it brief with his clipped replies.

By the time it ended, he was already scoffing, indifferent to the voice still speaking on the other end as he cut the call short and hung up as soon as he got the info he needed. 

Shoving the phone into his back pocket, Toji sparks another cigarette.

His 'partner' had so kindly reminded him of the loose ends he still needed to tie up.

But that could wait. 

For now, Toji remained where he was, stationed on his balcony—ready to stay out here all night for the small chance you may need him.

©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.

⟢ end credits: please comment, like and reblog and lmk what you think! I'd really appreciate the feedback as this fic has been my baby working on it.

i will likely end up completing another work while i work on episode 3 as my adhd ass usually needs to break it up in order not to get writers block and unlike e2 i had only done the outline so far, so if i post something else in the meantime just know i'm still working on episode 3!

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: wise likes you, and just about everyone on sixth street knows. ❀ ˎˊ- wise x gn!reader ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 1.3k ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: slightly ooc wise idk im still lvl 26 okay ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: thanks you stellaronhvnters for plaguing my mind w wise. anywho this my mini break from the series LMAO wise. i love you king.

Wise can hardly focus, and for once, it isn’t because of you.

Not that he minds being distracted by you - quite the opposite. He could spend hours just watching you talk and getting lost in your eyes, occasionally nodding or agreeing with whatever you were talking about the day. He liked hearing your voice; it was soothing like a cool river, especially after a grueling day.

But this time, it’s him who’s being stared at, and to his disappointment, the one burning holes into him isn’t you (although he severely doubts he could handle it if it were to be you).

No, instead, General Chop stares at him from the corner of his eye as he prepares other customers’ orders, a hint of knowing in his usual smile. Wise can see the excitement in the chef’s eyes, and it doesn’t take a genius to know why.

“Wise?”

He seizes up, bumping his chopsticks. He’s quick to fix himself as you shoot him a nervous, but questioning smile.

“Sorry, you were saying?” he says smoothly (at least he hopes it’s smooth, he still doesn’t know how to talk to pretty people), eager to move past his minor mishap.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you laugh. “I was just saying that you have a little something on your face.”

Wise feels his cheeks warm. “Oh, really? Thanks for telling me.”

He moves to grab some napkins, but you beat him to it. Wise swears something in him malfunctions when he turns and suddenly you’re all too close to him, your hand reached out to clean up his face.

“Wha- Wait, what’re you-” he sputters, nearly falling off his stool as he lurches back.

“Hey, stand still,” you scold, your slight annoyance only serving to speed up his heart rate because who in the world said it was okay for you to be this cute.

At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming from his head, with how fuzzy his mind feels. He can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but just sit there, dazed as you dab obliviously at the corner of his lip.

As you pull away, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, mentally thanking whatever deities reigned above that he hadn’t fainted on the spot. That would’ve been embarrassing; Belle would never let him live it down.

His face feels cooler - hopefully it isn’t so red anymore. By the time he’s able to think coherently again, you’ve started chatting again. Wise nods along (he has no idea what you’re talking about), and goes to slurp up some of his noodles when he sees General Chop again.

The chef, obviously holding back a cackle, grins encouragingly at him and flashes him a thumbs up in support. Wise internally groans. Would it be a bad idea if he drowned himself in his noodles right now?

And this isn’t the first time either - Wise is pretty sure the entirety of Sixth Street is aware of his… ugh, crush on you (saying it out loud both hurts him and makes him feel warm inside. Which is a terrible feeling. He wants to throw up).

Just last week, he’d seen you at the Coff Café, and Tin Man, being both a gracious cafe owner and a huge romantic, had decided that that day was a good day to have a 50% off deal specifically for pairs if they bought two or more items.

Wise hadn’t questioned it at first, since it was normal for shops to occasionally hold discounts like these to attract more customers. Even he was guilty of it, being a business co-owner himself.

But then you had to call him out in the line, excitedly waving him over as you were at the cashier ordering. Tin Man was behind you, a smile in his eyes that Wise wasn’t sure he liked, but he begrudgingly made his way over.

He still remembers the way your eyes sparkled as you explained the discount to him. They reminded him of the stars he’d see at twilight, when he couldn’t sleep and would climb to the roof just to watch New Eridu’s nightlife.

Naturally, he had accepted your offer of buying him a free drink (no one refuses free food), but he quickly learned to regret it when he saw the mischievous gleam in Tin Man’s artificial eyes.

He still gets flustered thinking of it now - the heart-shaped whipped cream and the whisper of “good luck” haunts him, especially when he thinks about how confused you were at the impromptu decoration.

The amount of times he’s caught his neighbors playing matchmaker, he can’t count on both hands - and that’s not including what Belle has tried. It’d be funny if it wasn’t also incredibly humiliating.

“Master, if you were planning on drifting off, perhaps you should’ve stayed home to take a nap.”

Wise sighs. “Be quiet, Fairy. I’m in public.”

“What?” you blink. Wise blinks back before realizing he’d been a little too loud.

“Sorry, I was talking to myself,” he chuckles awkwardly, hands fiddling with each other - it’s a nervous habit of his. You smile understandingly.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, pushing your bowl towards General Chop to signify you were done with it. “You’ve been out of it today, Wise. Something on your mind?”

You, Wise wants to say, but he doesn’t feel like embarrassing himself further. “I guess I’m just tired. Long day today.”

“I can tell,” you laugh, the sound music to his ears. You hop off the stool after sliding your share of the payment to General Chop. “Come on, I’ll walk you home. You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

Wise’s heart does a little tap dance at your offer, but he manages to keep his cool. He hastily pays General Chop before eagerly joining you in your short walk to Random Play.

“Bro!” Belle greets him enthusiastically as he opens the door. Her eyes light up when she sees you, and she raises her eyebrows suggestively at her brother. Wise shoots her a glare when you aren’t looking. “[Name], too? How was your da- mmghhifjk-”

Wise smiles innocently as he slaps a hand over Belle’s mouth. You can’t help but laugh at the two, and Wise admires the crinkle the corners of your eyes.

“Ignore her,” he says nonchalantly, wrinkling his nose as Belle licks his hand like the little rat she is. “Do you want to come in, or…?”

“No, I shouldn’t.” You wave your hands bashfully. “It’s getting late, so I should be getting back home.”

Wise nods in understanding. Belle pries herself free and he wipes his spit-covered hand on her sleeve, ignoring her sputters and protests (she chose this path. She will reap its consequences).

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.”

You nod, shifting your feet. “I guess it is.”

Wise’s brows furrow at your behavior - what’s on your mind. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long before his inquiry is answered.

You take a step forward, and Wise feels your arms loop around him in a tight hug. Suddenly, his senses are elevated, and it’s almost as if everything is enhanced tenfold. He can feel your heartbeat against his chest, the soft sound of your breath, your hair tickling his face and the heat that radiates off of your body against him.

“I really enjoyed today,” you say, stepping back with a smile that could rival an angel’s. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

Wise tries to formulate a response, but all that comes out is a squeak like a dying balloon. God, if his face was red before, it must be flaming now. You giggle at his response, before you wave both him and Belle goodbye and leave for your home.

It takes a good five minutes before he can speak again.

“Hey sis?”

Belle sounds as shocked as him. “Yeah?”

“I think I’m going to faint.”

He hears his sister sigh.

“Wise, you’re helpless, you know that?” she shakes her head exasperatingly. “And just when you finally made progress too.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[thewritetofreespeech]

aemond - prompt 1

Prompt list - 1. Breeding kink

------------------------------⚔️---------------------------------

“Up! Up!”

“Up! Up!”

“Hehe…you’re both too big now for me to carry the both of you on my hip like before. Why don’t we flip a coin then? Heads Jaehaerys you can go first, and tails means Jaehaera can go. Sound like a fun game?”

Aemond watched from the table with his family as his wife made a deal with his niece & nephew. Completely fair. Void of favoritism. He remembers no such favors from his own childhood.

His wife was wonderful with the children. As one of the few Helaena let near them in recent months, due to some new fear she had concocted in her mind, Jaehaera & Jaehaerys clung to her like shadows. Even Maelor, still at his mother’s breast, would swing his fat little arms in his wife’s direction every time she passed. And she never missed an opportunity to give him attention or affection whenever he, or any of the children, clamored for her.

“Everything alright Aemond?”

His trance was broken by her words when she returned to him. Whatever deal or game they had struck over now as a nurse came to put the children to bed. Aemond nodded. Dreams of his own silver-haired babes following her around, tugging at her skirts, in need of constant attention from that sweet face drift out of his mind like dragon’s wings on the horizon. “Yes. I am fine. Let us retire for the evening as well.”

The sun would be up soon. He couldn’t see it from the window, but just felt it in his soul. That time of night that was more the wee hours of the morning. Where the darkness would finally break to the light.

They haven’t slept at all. Rested, but not slept. Sleep seemed immaterial in comparison to the need to fill her again & again. Sleep, water, food, air. All of it seemed trivial as he was a man possessed with possessing her.

“Aemond….please….no more….”

“Just once more.”

His wife whined as his cock still inside her slid back and into her again. One bout giving way to another with truly no rest in between this time.

He was consumed with making his dream a reality. Fill her with so much of him that his child would have no choice but to take root in her belly. They could have a babe come spring. Or a sweet summer child with his pale violet eyes and his mother’s gentle disposition. Aemond thrust harder into her, as if driving the idea home with his cock, making his wife cry out. “Ah! Aemond! Oh Gods!”

She wouldn’t have to take care of Aegon’s children anymore. She would have her own babes to keep her busy. They would be strong and perfect. In constant need of their mother like he was. Maybe she would give him twins like Helaena gave his brother? If his fragile sister could do it, surely his wife could do it too. Judging by the cum spilling out of her onto the already soiled sheets, Aemond had given her more than enough opportunity.

“Aemond….Aemond….”

She couldn’t say much more than his name now and moan. Good. There shouldn’t be any thought of others or anything but the two of them as they made their child.

He looked down at the woman who was going to give him his future and found a blank slate there. Broken with pleasure. Those intelligent, bright eyes black and hazy with lust. Disheveled to the point of madness by his own mad need to put a babe inside her.

He leaned down to kiss her rough, swollen lips and swallowed a whine from his princess. He felt her breath quicken against his lips and her walls quake around him. Her overstimulated body climaxing with even the most minor addition of stimuli between them at this point.

Aemond came just short after that. One final push. Spilling his seed just as deep as the rest before he finally, eventually, let his wife go.

He fell to the other side of the bed, listening to her gasp for breath beside him, before he got up and went to retrieve a rag for the two of them. His wife hiccupped out a gasp when the cool material touched her feverous skin. Her whole-body twitching as it was still too overstimulated to determine how the touch was intended. Aemond cleaned her body starting with her arms. Moving down to her breasts, imagining them larger and fuller in just 4 moons time, then down to her belly that would do just the same. She whined when he gently wiped at her overly sensitive cunt. Red and swollen. His seed still glistening in the folds. He doesn’t want to get rid of it but knows she would be uncomfortable sleeping like that. Aemond had already made her uncomfortable enough for one evening.

He cleaned himself off with much less care and crawled back into bed beside his wife. She willingly came to him when he pulled her in his arms. Or perhaps she was too exhausted to think and just went along with him. Her body still twitching now & then, even in her sleep, from the frenzy he just put her through.

He kissed her head, then covered them with whatever clean blanket he could find.

Come spring they would have a child of their own. A silver haired paragon, who would take Vhagar after he was gone and be his legacy for when his bones became ash. After that, they would work on another. Then another. Then another. His branch would flourish as much as his great-grandfather, and they would build their family to the point that they did not need any others but their own.

He almost felt bad for Jaehaera & Jaehaerys. Soon they would not have their wonderful aunt to dote on them. But his children, and his family, would be what came first.

[andshesaidwhat]

Steamy - Sam Monroe Smut

Summary: Sam has been your best friend since you were kids. When he starts avoiding you and acting strange, you decide to take matters into your own hands and things get steamy…

Warnings: penetrative sex, shower sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (Sam receiving), handjob (Sam receiving), teasing, voyeurism, masturbation (Sam receiving), inexperienced!Sam, Sam finishes too fast, multiple orgasms (Sam receiving), thigh-fucking, nipple play?, slight dacryphilia, subby!Sam, edging, Sam whimpers a lot, maybe a smidge of degradation, Sam is down-horrendous.

Masterlist

Sam rested his forehead against the cool tile of the shower wall as he relentlessly fucked his fist. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying to block out the guilt as his mind raced with perverted thoughts.

It wasn’t his fault, really. He hadn’t intended on showering in your bathroom as an excuse to touch himself. You had just decided to wear one of his old t-shirts today and that…that had sent him over the edge.

Sam had been fighting off these feelings for a long time. If he was honest with himself, they’d always been there. When you were kids, it was easier. He didn’t understand the mechanics of all of it. He just knew he liked being around you more than anyone else, so he spent all the time he could with you. You were best friends, after all. That was normal.

Then, puberty happened. You developed tits and he developed an innate need to see them, touch them, taste them, anything.

It was harder now. You were both in college and still spending all of your time with each other. Every waking moment of Sam’s was spent thinking of you, watching you, imagining all of the ways he wanted to be with you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be your friend — he loved being your friend. You were the only person in the world that ever actually saw him for who he was. It was just that he couldn’t escape these desires that grew stronger and stronger every time you smiled at him or batted your lashes or laughed or…

Yeah, he was fucked.

He knew that he needed to get his feelings for you in check. His biggest fear was doing some dumb shit to lose you. That’s why he’d been trying to create just a little distance lately. He only resorted to that when he felt like he wouldn’t be able to control himself around you. It just so happened that, lately, that was almost all of the time.

When he’d gotten to your place today, he had told himself that he wouldn’t let his attraction get the better of him — that he’d be normal — but, the minute he saw you in his shirt he felt like he could’ve melted into the earth. It was so cute, hugging your frame perfectly and just barely covering those tight ass shorts you had on underneath.

He’d tried to contain himself, he really had. He tried looking anywhere else but at you, tried thinking of every unsexy thing his mind could possibly dream up, but his efforts were all in vain. No matter what he did, his gaze would eventually wander back over to you. His mind would run wild with different scenarios. You in his shirt with nothing underneath. Him bending you over, lifting the material up just enough to take you from behind. Giving you more of his clothes to wear so that everyone knew you were his.

He hadn’t even realized how painfully hard he had gotten or how labored his breathing had become until you asked, “Are you alright, Sammy?”

Fuck, he almost came in his pants from the sweet sound of your voice as you said his nickname that he only allowed you to call him.

He felt his face flame as his eyes widened and he pulled the covers from your bed further over himself to make sure his erection was hidden.

“Y-yeah, fine,” he sputtered, trying to will himself to get a fucking grip.

“Are you sure?” You asked, reaching your hand out to touch his forehead. “You look flushed.”

He had to fight not to moan as your skin came in contact with his, so soft and tender. Your eyebrows were scrunched up in that adorable way they did whenever you were worried about him.

He wanted to see them scrunched up for other reasons, for all the pleasure he knew he could give you if you let him try. He wanted to hear you say his name like a plea of desperation, begging him for more, more, more.

“I think I just need to take a shower,” he muttered, quickly getting up and rushing to the bathroom before you could see any evidence of his arousal.

He paced in the bathroom, fisting at his hair as he tried to calm down. This was getting a bit pathetic. He couldn’t even be in the same fucking room as you without being embarrassingly close to coming untouched.

He stripped down, tossing his clothes to the floor as he stepped into the shower and shut the glass door behind him. He turned the water on to the coldest setting, cringing as he stood beneath it.

C’mon, this needs to work, he thought to himself as he shook from the cold. The icy water caused goosebumps to erupt on his skin, but did nothing to calm the raging hard-on that was still standing proud and aching. He groaned in frustration, hitting his head against the wall as he tried his best to fight off his arousal.

Finally, he gave in and wrapped his fist around his cock. He gave himself a few slow, guilt-ridden strokes as he squeezed his eyes shut. He hissed at the feeling, relief slowly flooding through his abdomen.

He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this. Touching himself to the thought of you was already bad enough, but touching himself to the thought of you while you were in the next room? If only you knew how fucked up he truly was. You’d never look at him again…

He fought the urge to moan at the thought of your hand replacing his, or better yet — your mouth.

“Fuck,” he whispered, biting his bottom lip as he thrusted into his hand.

He needed to get this over with. He needed to handle his problem and get back out there before you started to suspect that something was wrong.

He was desperately chasing his release but, despite how badly he wanted it, his own touch wasn’t getting him there this time.

He needed more.

You had worn his shirt on purpose.

You were tired of him avoiding the situation — avoiding you.

It hadn’t taken you long to figure out why he’d been acting so strange lately. You’d noticed the way his eyes would linger on your form, the way his face would flush when you called his name, the way he’d try to discretely adjust himself in his pants when you’d get too close to him.

You’d always wondered why he’d never had a girlfriend. It wasn’t that girls didn’t desire him. He had just always been oblivious to their advances.

In actuality, you’d realized, he was just too focused on you.

You’d always harbored feelings for Sam. Ever since you were kids. He was your first childhood crush. You’d never told him, though, too scared that he’d tease you relentlessly for it. It wasn’t until lately that you realized those feelings had been reciprocated. 

Once you’d made the realization, you’d started trying to push him further and further. You’d hoped that he would snap, finally admitting to you what he’d been feeling.

He never did, though. In fact, he did the opposite. He kept avoiding you, frustrating you to no end.

You huffed out a sigh, looking over at the clock on your bedside table. He’d been in the shower for almost twenty minutes. You gnawed on your lip, contemplating your next move.

Finally, with a newfound determination, you got up from your bed and walked toward your bathroom. You were tired of waiting for him to get the hint. He’d left you no choice. You needed to take matters into your own hands.

You opened the bathroom door, shutting it behind you as you called out, “What’s taking you so long in here, Sammy? I have to shower, too, ya know?”

Sam yelped, startled at your entry. You could only barely make out his figure behind the frosted glass, but it made your heart race nonetheless.

“J-Jesus, don’t you knock?” Sam sputtered, his voice laced with nervous energy.

“It’s my house,” you retorted, crossing your arms as you leaned against the sink.

You heard Sam sigh before he said, “I’ll be out in a minute just…give me a second.”

You began undressing before you could talk yourself out of it. This was a bold move, even for you, but you knew that Sam needed something to be shoved in his face for him to realize what was right in front of him.

“You’ve already been in here for twenty minutes and I have things to do later,” you grumbled, pretending to be inconvenienced. “I’m just coming in.”

“W-what?!” Sam stuttered, his voice nearly jumping up an octave.

You opened the glass door, stepping into the shower as you tried to appear nonchalant. Sam quickly covered himself with his hands, his entire body flushing red as he looked up at the ceiling to avoid looking at your naked frame.

You took this time to unabashedly look him over. His cupped hands only left little to the imagination. You bit your bottom lip, drinking in the sight of him. Arousal immediately began pooling between your thighs as you stepped underneath the water.

You yelped at the temperature, jumping back and adjusting the valve.

“Christ, Sammy, why the hell is it so cold in here?” you asked, despite knowing exactly why he’d been taking a cold shower.

“I-I just like it cold, okay?” Sam retorted, attitude biting with his words.

You turned the knob until the water ran hot, letting the steam fill the confines of the shower. You sighed, contentedly, stepping back under the water.

“Much better,” you breathed, practically moaning as the warm water washed away the tension in your muscles.

As the steam filled the air, Sam’s head was spinning. It was suffocating. He was surrounded by your scent. It took everything in him to keep his eyes glued to the ceiling. Even the glimpses he caught of your body from the corner of his eye were nearly enough to make him fall to his knees.

He had a difficult enough time keeping it together around you when you were fully clothed, how could he be expected to keep his composure when you were naked and wet a foot away from him?

He could feel his still-hard cock pulsing beneath his hands as he tried his best to cover himself. He felt like he’d somehow entered one of his wet dreams. Confusion and arousal fogged his mind as he tried to make sense of what was happening. The two of you had never even seen each other naked, much less showered together.

He refused to let himself believe that this could mean that you wanted him the same way he wanted you. He wouldn’t give himself that kind of false hope. He could only pray that he’d be able to get through this without making a complete fool out of himself.

You reached for the shampoo, lathering it into your hair. You smirked when you heard Sam breathe in a little too deeply. Glancing back at him, he still had his head facing toward the ceiling.

“You don’t have to break your neck trying not to look at me,” you laughed, rinsing the shampoo from your hair. “It’s not like you’ve never seen tits before.”

“I’ve never seen yours…” Sam mumbled, quietly, a new blush rising to his cheeks.

“Mine are just like any others,” you shrugged, brushing your conditioner through your hair with your fingers.

Sam had to bite his tongue to keep from responding that nobody could be like you. He was fighting so hard to keep his gaze averted but now you were practically inviting him to look at you. Even on his strongest day, there was no chance he could pass up the opportunity. He’d just look once, he told himself. Just enough of a glance to embed the image into his brain for when he jacked himself off to the thought of you.

He took a deep breath before stealing a quick look over at you. He involuntarily squeezed his dick, trying not to come on the spot. None of his fantasies could’ve prepared him for the way you’d look standing naked in front of him, water dripping from your body.

He forced himself to look up at your face instead of your tits — your goddamned perfect tits — but that didn’t help his situation in the slightest. Not when you were smirking at him like you were privy to some secret that he was not. Or when you were batting your lashes, sending water drops down your cheeks. Then you bit your lip and Jesus fucking Christ he felt every cell in his body burn at the sight.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the way his eyes fought between looking at your face and looking at your chest. You could sense the stress he was putting himself through, and almost felt bad for what you were doing. You weren’t going to stop, though. Not when you finally had him right where you wanted him.

You moved to grab the bottle of soap, intentionally letting it fall from your grasp. Out of instinct, Sam reached out to catch it. You gasped quietly at the sight of his erection springing forward into view.

He was big. Bigger than you’d expected. He was hard and leaking, his tip red and aching. He followed your gaze down, his eyes widening as he realized what you were looking at. He quickly handed you the bottle of soap back, moving to cover himself again.

“You know,” you started, smirking as you poured the soap into your hand, “if you need to take care of that, you can. I don’t mind.”

“W-what?” Sam coughed, his face a deep shade of red. “No! No way.”

“It’s natural, Sammy,” you shrugged. “I do it all the time. Besides, it looks real painful. I won’t watch if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sam wanted the earth to swallow him whole in that moment. He didn’t think his skin could burn any hotter than it was right then. You were teasing him, torturing him.

He didn’t know which part was worse — the way you said his name, the mental image of you touching yourself, or the attention you had paid to his predicament. His body felt like it was going to erupt into flames at any given moment.

You had to know. You had to. There was no way that all of this was just some random coincidence. The two of you had never breached that line of friendship and now, here you were, telling him to touch himself in front of you.

He couldn’t do that. There would be no coming back from that. There would be no way that he could recover. He’d come the minute he touched his dick if your eyes were on him, and how would he explain that?

However, you had said you wouldn’t watch…and he did really really need the relief…

Sam bit his bottom lip, breathing heavily as he contemplated his options. He knew that he shouldn’t, but the offer was so tempting…

“You promise you won’t watch?”

Your smirk grew as Sam gave in to his desires, just like you knew he would. You crossed your heart with your finger and Sam squeezed his eyes shut as his gaze was unintentionally brought back down to your chest.

Giggling, you turned back around to face the other side of the shower. You didn’t miss the way Sam’s eyes travelled down to your ass as you did. You began lathering the soap into your skin as you heard the wet sounds of his fist stroking his dick over the hum of the shower.

You bit your lip, focusing on the way he let little breaths escape him. You could imagine how hard he was trying to refrain from making any other noises. You wanted to hear him, wanted to know exactly how he was feeling.

Curiosity and the need to push him further getting the better of you, you asked, “Are you always this quiet when you jack off?”

He sucked in a breath and sputtered, “Jesus, fuck, you…you can’t talk to me right now.”

You stifled a giggle, feigning innocence as you said, “Why not, Sammy?”

“Don’t say my name,” he practically pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I thought it would help,” you laughed, done beating around the bush. “Don’t you usually imagine me saying your name when you do this?”

You turned back around to face him, cocking your head to the side. His eyes widened and his hand stopped moving as his mouth opened and closed repeatedly.

Your mouth practically watered at the sight of him, chest flushed and heaving, his fist squeezed tightly around his erection.

“W-what…I don’t…I haven’t…” Sam stuttered, trying to come up with some kind of denial to your statement.

“Oh, come on,” you huffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “I’m not oblivious and you aren’t exactly subtle.”

Sam’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Relax, Sammy, it’s okay,” you said, beginning to slowly lather the soap into your skin. “Keep going.”

“What?” He gulped, eyes shooting open as they focused on the way your hands moved across your body in an agonizingly tempting motion.

“Keep going, Sammy,” you repeated, not taking your eyes off of him.

He released a shuddered breath, licking his lips as his eyes locked back on yours. Slowly, he began to move his fist again.

His jaw fell slack as his gaze followed the motion of your hands, teasing him as you trailed suds across your chest. His hand moved faster, his eyelids fluttering as a strained noise sounded from his throat.

“Is this what you think about, Sammy?” You taunted, moving your hands lower down your stomach.

Sam gasped, nodding his head as he muttered, “uh-huh.”

His chest heaved with heavy breaths, his hips thrusting into his fist. His hooded eyes were dark with desire as they traveled over your body. His movements became sloppy, his brows knitting together.

You could tell he was close, soft sounds involuntarily escaping his lips. His muscles were visibly tensing as his breaths started to come out in short spurts.

You’d had enough of being a bystander. Every nerve in your body was alight with desire and you wanted to close the distance between you two. You were done playing this game. If he was going to come, you wanted it to be by your hands.

Sam let out an involuntary whine of protest as you grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from himself. His eyes widened as you moved him until his back was pressed against the cold shower wall.

“W-what are you…what’s happening…oh, fuck.”

Sam’s questions were silenced the minute you pressed yourself against him. He gasped, clenching his fists by his side, seemingly using all of his restraint to keep from touching you.

He looked down at you, his gaze pleading and questioning as he asked, “What is this?”

“I was tired of waiting for you to make the first move,” you shrugged, grabbing his face.

His brows furrowed, confusion etched into his features. His mouth opened and closed, as if trying to form the words he wanted to say.

“Waiting for…what do you mean?”

“God, you’re so oblivious,” you mumbled, pulling his face down to yours and pressing your lips against his.

He immediately buckled, leaning into the kiss. He couldn’t help but groan into your mouth, a sound that betrayed the intensity of his arousal. The pressure building in his groin grew, his need growing at an unbearable pace. He arched his hips forward, desperate for contact. You pulled back, biting your lip as you peered up at him.

Sam held his breath, the moment teetering on the edge of ecstasy. His heart hammered so loud that it threatened to drown out the sound of the shower. His eyes were dizzy and unfocused as he looked down at you. This was both the most exhilarating and most terrifying moment of his life. The anticipation was agonizing, maddening.

You glanced down at his pouted lips, as if daring him to make a move. His tongue darted out, flicking across them as his gaze moved between your eyes and your mouth.

Finally, after working up the courage, he leaned forward. You grinned as you tilted your head back, keeping your lips just out of reach. He furrowed his eyebrows, releasing a shaky breath before trying again. You let his lips barely brush against yours before you dodged him again, smirking at the teasing game you were playing with him.

He looked at you with pleading eyes, desperation etched into his features, as a needy whine sounded in his throat. He whispered your name, fists tightening as every muscle in his body tensed with longing.

“Please,” he whispered, his jaw clenching with the effort to keep his composure.

With that one word, he completely crumbled your resolve. His eyes were dark and glassy with desire and unshed tears and you were prepared to give him anything he asked for.

You tangled your fingers in his wet hair, pulling him into a heated kiss. His lips immediately parted, devouring your own. He kissed you like he was starved, like you were his only source of oxygen after he’d been suffocating with need.

There was still a hesitancy in his actions, a part of him that was restraining himself. Whether it was out of fear or lack of knowledge, you didn’t hesitate to guide him.

Your fingertips trailed down his arms, causing him to shiver. You grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips. He moaned into your mouth, his touch instantly beginning to wander.

The urgency in his kiss increased, his hands roaming your back, your sides, your legs. Years of built up tension came bubbling to the surface as you both began to drown in each other.

Sam’s voice was low and husky, barely coherent against your lips as he whispered, “Don’t stop.”

The pressure between his legs was a stinging reminder of his desperation. The need within him was leaking with each touch, each kiss. He reveled in the control you wielded over him. Sam’s mind was lost in a sea of lust. This was a moment he’d dreamed about for years. The thought of it was almost too much, the entire situation overwhelming.

You guided his hands up to your chest and Sam wasted no time in palming your tits. He squeezed gently, kissing you with blazing fervor. When his thumbs experimentally swiped across your nipples, you let out a sigh of pleasure against his lips.

Sam’s brain short-circuited the minute he heard your reaction. His hips surged forward, pushing his aching erection between your clenched thighs. He had been so worked up and the pressure provided just the right amount of friction. He gasped, letting out a strangled moan as he clutched onto you. His eyes rolled back as an orgasm ripped through him, instinctively continuing to thrust between the plush skin of your thighs.

Sam panted, slowly opening his eyes again as he came down from the high. His entire body flushed at the revelation of what had just occurred. He took in your amused expression, groaning in embarrassment as he buried his face into your neck.

You stifled a giggle, gently rubbing his back as you whispered, “It’s okay, Sammy. It happens.”

He whimpered against your skin, wrapping his arms around you. He was torn between wishing he could disappear, never having to face you again, and wanting to stay in this moment forever.

“Besides,” you smirked, leaning down to pepper gentle kisses across his shoulder, “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Sam inhaled, sharply, his breath hot against your neck. His body instantly responded, his arousal already stirring again at the prospect alone.

You grabbed his face, lifting his head back up to meet his gaze. His cheeks were still tinged pink, bringing out the bright blue of his dilated eyes.

You traced his swollen lips with your thumb and asked, “Do you think you can do it again for me?”

“Mhm,” he responded, nodding eagerly. “I’ll do anything for you.”

You grinned, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Promise?”

He pulled you into him, closing the gap between you so that you couldn’t pull away again. He kissed you passionately, groaning as you bit down on his bottom lip.

“Promise,” he mumbled into the kiss, “anything you want.”

You reached up to grab his chin, tilting it to the side as you slowly kissed down his neck. His eyes fluttered shut, his body quivering at the tender attention. He cradled your head with a trembling hand, urging you on as your lips made their way across his skin.

Sam whimpered when you nipped at his pulse point, the hand in your hair tightening as you gently sucked a dark mark into the pale skin. You kissed across his chest, letting your hands run down his sides. He gasped as your teeth grazed over one of his nipples.

Your lips continued their descent down his body as you slowly sank to your knees in front of him. Sam let out a shaky breath, whispering your name as his legs nearly gave out.

You blinked up at him, water drops coating your lashes, as you rubbed your hands up and down his thighs.

“You’ll do anything I want?” You asked, kissing across his hips.

“Uh-huh,” he rasped, licking his lips as he nodded his head. “Anything you want. I swear it.”

Your mouth watered as you sat eye-level with his dick that was steadily twitching back to life. He gasped as you took him into your hand, his fists clenching tightly by his sides. You slowly began to stroke him, watching as he bit his lip to try and hold back the sounds threatening to spill from his lips.

“Then I want to hear how good it feels, Sammy,” you told him, pressing a teasing kiss to the tip.

“Shit,” he cursed, hardening again in your grip.

Your tongue traced a line up his shaft, slowly circling it around the head of his dick before taking him entirely into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, panting as he gripped the shower wall for support. “That’s…a-ah…that’s really good.”

The sight of you was overwhelming. He had only ever pictured you this way in his dirtiest dreams. You, on your knees with your lips wrapped around his cock, gazing up at him like the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he breathed, peering down at you through hooded lids. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

You watched his chest heave as you worked him, using your hand to cover what your mouth couldn’t fit. His fist was still tangled in your hair, but he didn’t dare attempt to control your movements.

Sam’s eyes rolled back as he felt himself hit the back of your throat, the sensation causing his hips to stutter. You swallowed around him and his entire body threatened to crumble. Strings of lewd moans and whimpers escaped his lips as his back arched off of the wall.

“Oh, god,” he panted, throwing his head back against the shower wall, “I’m…fuck…I’m gonna…”

You pulled off of him and he let out a whine, thrusting to desperately chase your lips. You grabbed his hips, holding them still as you rose back up to your feet.

“Why’d you stop?” Sam pouted, scrunching his eyebrows together in desperation. “I was so close.”

Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart beneath it, as you looked up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

“I didn’t think you’d want to stop before getting to be inside of me, but if you’d rather settle for my hands then I can keep going,” you taunted, cocking your head to the side.

“No,” he croaked out, his voice breaking off into a desperate moan at the mere thought of that privilege. “I wanna be inside you. Please, let me be inside of you.”

He clutched at you, pulling you into him as he crashed his mouth against yours. You immediately responded to the kiss, parting your lips and tasting his tongue with your own.

Without breaking the kiss, you pulled him forward and switched your positions so that your back was now pressed against the shower wall.

You reached down, grabbing his dick and stroking it as you lined it up with your entrance. He gasped, breaking apart to rest his forehead against yours. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he looked down between your bodies, watching you tease them finally joining together.

“Please, don’t keep teasing me,” he begged, his voice hoarse with need. “I can’t take it.”

You wrapped a leg around his waist and Sam held his breath, his mouth falling open as you guided his hips to slowly sheath into you. As his length filled you, stretching you out with a delicious burn, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan.

Once he was buried to the hilt, his hips flesh against your own, he finally released his breath in a strangled whimper.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” he breathed, unable to take his eyes away from the sight of you wrapped around him.

“Fuck me, Sammy,” you whispered, watching as his gaze snapped up to meet yours.

His breath hitched as he nodded, his body trembling with nervous anticipation. He pulled back, almost completely out of you, before pushing back in with a slow, experimental thrust.

You both gasped at the feeling, moaning into the shared air between your mouths. He repeated the motion again, familiarizing himself with the way your body practically pulled him in.

His thrusts got faster as his lips found yours again in a heated kiss. You clutched onto his shoulders for support, feeling every nerve in your body ignite in flames of pleasure.

“You feel so good,” you mumbled, arching into him. “Such a perfect fit.”

Sam groaned against your lips, his hips picking up the pace. He pulled back to look at you, his eyes dark with desire.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he confessed, the dam of his emotions suddenly breaking as he fucked into you. “I-I dreamed about you, every day. You were all…ah…I ever wanted.”

“I know, Sammy, I know,” you panted, reaching up to kiss him again. “I’ve always felt the same way, you were just too blind to notice.”

He whimpered at the revelation, his thrusts becoming more urgent. He grabbed your waist, using it as leverage as his hips snapped up into yours.

“Fuck,” he whined, breathing out your name. “I-I’m getting close. I’m not gonna be able to last.”

“I need you to hold on just a little longer, Sammy,” you told him, earning a desperate whimper as his eyes grew glassy again.

You grabbed one of his hands, guiding his thumb to your clit. You moved it in slow circles, showing him how to touch you. He picked up the action quickly, moving his fingers on their own accord.

You moaned at the added stimulation, feeling Sam’s hips stutter as you squeezed around him. Ragged breaths wracked through him as he tried desperately to hold on for you.

“Wanna hear you, Sammy,” you prompted.

A single tear drop fell down his cheek from the sheer effort of keeping his climax at bay as he began to mindlessly ramble.

“You feel so good. Squeezin’ around me all tight and warm. Could just stay buried in you forever. Never wanna stop. I’ll do anything to satisfy you. Anything you want. I’ll get on my hands and knees if you ask me to. Just wanna make you happy. Just wanna keep feelin’ you like this.”

He kissed down your neck, needing to occupy his mouth. He buried his face against your chest, gasping and whimpering as his movements chased the high he desperately craved.

“No one else gets to have me like this,” you promised, feeling that familiar knot of pleasure tightening in the pit of your stomach. Each stroke of his thumb against your clit, paired with the tip of his dick repeatedly brushing that spot inside of you, pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “You’re the only one I want, Sammy. The only one who can make me feel this way.”

He let out a strained cry against your skin, his fingers gripping the plush skin of your waist tighter.

“Please, I need to come,” he begged, the desperation making his voice raw. “I need it, baby, please.”

The sweet sounds of his pleading was the final thread that unraveled the knot.

“Come for me, Sammy,” you breathed.

You felt the white hot pleasure course through your veins as you tightened around him, feeling your climax wash over you in a tidal wave.

He came with a cry of your name, clutching onto you as he continued to thrust into you. His vision seemed to black out as he finally let go, giving you everything.

The world around you seemed to fade as you both came down from the mutual high. Sam’s body relaxed into yours, his hands still trembling as you both tried to catch your breath. You settled into a blissful haze, engulfed by the warmth of the shower.

You held him close to you, running your fingers soothingly through his hair as you smiled lazily, “You done avoiding me now?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, grinning sheepishly. He nuzzled into your neck, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Never gonna avoid you again.”

“Good,” you responded, “it would be a dick move to avoid your girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Sam asked, his head snapping up as he looked at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Well, yeah,” you grinned, biting your lip. “Unless you’d rather this just be a one time thing.”

“No!” Sam interjected, quickly, shaking his head. “I want this to be an all the time thing. Every day. Multiple times a day, if possible.”

You rolled your eyes, giggling as you playfully shoved him. He laughed, his entire face lighting up with joy and relief as he hugged you to him.

“You know, it was kind of a creeper move to barge in on me in the shower,” he joked, looking down at you with an amused glint in his eyes.

“Hey, you were the one jacking off to me in my own house!” You argued, laughing as you poked his chest.

He grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles before grabbing your face and sweetly kissing your lips.

He hummed softly and whispered, “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”

You beamed up at him, feeling your heart flutter in his embrace. You used up the remaining hot water to actually shower off, tending to each other as you did. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this was how it was always meant to be.

Maybe it’s true what they say. Everything happens for a reason.