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silknspice · 8 months ago

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ARCANE CHARACTERS AS ROMANCE TROPES

⎯ ୨୧ pairings: vi x reader, jinx x reader

⎯ ୨୧ content: pure fluff, mentions of alcohol, lying, swearing, first love and fake dating tropes used, lowercase intended, not proofread

vi ⎯ fake dating

fake dating! vi who made the bet with you at one of jayce’s frat parties. she and caitlyn were officially over, the woman turning to the warmth of maddie to prove that she’d “moved on”, which made vi look like the loser. she couldn’t stand that. getting with the woman she told vi “not to worry about” was low. the only thing to do was go lower- or rather higher. you were caitlyn’s kryptonite. intelligent, charming, fashionable, every time you were around during your friend group’s hangouts she clung onto vi’s arm as if you were a magnet and she was the strongest metal. as if when she let go, vi would fly away and straight into your arms.

fake dating! vi who approached you while your other friends were occupied, going in with nothing but a red solo cup, cocky smile, and a dream. she soon realized that you’d be a challenge to crack, resorting to begging.

“c’mon pretty!” the pinkett pleaded, moving every which way around you as you continuously turned your body to avoid her gaze. only when she took your plastic cup and held it higher than you could reach, your bodies inches apart as she gazed down on you, did you cave.

“fine, you baby!” you huffed out with a big exhale. the girl paid the diss no mind as she lowered her arm, leaning in to whisper despite the loud party atmosphere. her words tickled the side of your ear, and you could practically sense her shit-eating grin.

“i’ll make it worth your while.”

it’s not that you didn’t want to say yes at the first sound of the question. it was the reason why this bet came to be that made your stomach turn. after some instagram stories, lots of pda, and almost everyone on campus whispering about the two of you, caitlyn would be crawling back to vi in no time. she’d have the power back. at least that’s what she thought.

it wasn’t the acting that worried you, it was your true feelings.

fake dating! vi who doesn’t understand why you’re so uptight about the situation. you invite her to your house sunday, a piece of loose leaf paper and a pink sharpie on the coffee table. on the top: “ ୨୧ rules ୨୧ “ in your pretty handwriting.

“rules?” she snorted, arms resting on the top of the couch while she leaned back into the plush throw pillows. you sat opposite of her on the ground, her wide man spreading right in front of you making your head fuzzy.

you look down at your decorated paper and back up at the girl with perfectly furrowed brows. “of course? what, you thought you were just gonna have your way with me?”

a smile quickly grew on the girl’s face, stifling a laugh at your unfortunate word choice.

“you know what i mean!” you whined, picking up the sharpie and uncapping it. “you’re chaotic. i need some guidelines so you don’t throw me into some absolutely heinous situation.”

fake dating! vi and you who agreed to the following terms after a very unproductive hour of talking: no telling anybody that this is fake (ESPECIALLY POWDER, blabbermouth), watch 10 things i hate about you together (vi hasn’t seen this!?!), yn comes to all of vi’s hockey games and after parties, and no tongue when kissing. vi groaned and debated with you for 15 minutes after you suggested the last one. you claimed there was ‘no need’ for it, she claimed no tongue wasn't convincing anyone that you were a serious couple. finally, you put a question mark next to the rule. you’ll just have to revisit that one later.

fake dating! vi who shifted in her seat, patting her lap twice in an unbothered manner once you completed the list.

“okay, c’mere.”

you looked up from the paper you were folding, brows furrowing in confusion. “‘scuse me?” the girl didn’t repeat herself, staring at you expectantly. you stood, walking around the coffee table cautiously and standing in between her legs with your hands on your hips.

fake dating! vi who scoffed and pulled you into her lap, having you straddle her with her hands on your hips while you looked at her as if she had five heads. “listen, we’re gonna have to do a bunch of shit in front of cait,” she started. “right..” you followed up, waiting for the explanation. “so, we need to practice. you know, so that you don’t freeze up or somethin’.” you scoffed, shoving her shoulder. “i’ve kissed people before vi, sorry to burst your bubble.” she grinned at that, tilting her head up at you.

“yeah, but you’ve never kissed me, honey.”

fake dating! vi who got a little carried away when practising your “fake” passionate kisses, mumbling little quips like “no no, like this” and “restart, you’ve gotta act more natural”. what was supposed to be a fast practice kiss ended up lasting 15 minutes. you ended up fixing your rules list one last time. no tongue when kissing? tongue is fine

fake dating! vi who leaves one of her clean jerseys at your house. when gameday comes, you, mel, and powder spend the hour before the game getting ready for your lovers. jersey clad bodies, blue and white ribbons in your hair (your school colors of course), and eye black on your cheekbones, except yours was pink (for obvious reasons).

fake dating! vi who’s brain short circuits when she first spots you in the stands, and again when she, ekko, and jayce meet with you girls after the game. seeing her in uniform, all aggressive and cocky out on the ice had you all but drooling in the stands. seeing you all dressed up in her attire got a rise out of her, and a different rise out of caitlyn as she stormed out of the locker room and past the six of you. you gave each other grins and a high five to mask the cheesy smiles accompanying your faces as you admired each other.

fake dating! vi who takes your hand at the crowded after party, pulling you through the drunken community and up the stairs to one of her teammates rooms. you’re utterly confused as she shuts the door behind you both and reaches over her head to pull her compression shirt off.

“the hell are you doing?” you stare straight at vi with wide eyes, but don’t dare to cover them.

“jayce said he’s sending caitlyn up here for somethin’,” she started, finally peeling the form fitting black fabric off of her body. she looked to you, eyes flicking down then back up. “well? what are you waiting for? strip.” she spoke in too calm of a manner, like she was concealing her true tone underneath.

“oh you’re crazy.” you shake your head, not moving as vi moves over to you. “just- take off your clothes! i just want her to think we were gonna do it.”

you look at her as if her previous five heads had grown to ten, grabbing the hem of your cropped top and pulling it over your head. at the sound of footsteps down the hall, you rushed to the bed, vi laying back and your body sitting atop hers. warm skin smushed together. glossy eyes admiring each others bodies as pupils unknowingly dilate. vi wondered what would happen if she unhooked the clasp of your bra that she was fiddling with. you wondered when the day would come where she begged to unclasp it.

“just like we practiced, honey?” she asked with her sweet and soft voice, foreign to everyone but you as your lips locked and the door swung open.

fake dating! vi who didn’t realize how clear her conflicting feelings were until her sister teased her on a saturday morning at ekko’s house. “i see the way she looks at you, and the way you admire her when you think no one’s looking. you’ve got it baaad, sis.”

fake dating! vi who has been falling for you more and more ever since this stupid deal began. she’s building the courage to let you know just how much you mean to her and make you her real girlfriend.

jinx ⎯ first love/teenage love

first love! jinx who became infatuated with you when she saw you at practice for the first time, whether you cheer, play a sport, or dance. the way you bit your lip in focus, the way you move in your element, and the sweat that had your attire clinging to you made her brain go completely numb.

first love! jinx who pretended not to know you as ekko introduced you, asking if the three of you could be partners for a science project. she’d already stalked your instagram and had it ready to follow as soon as she left the classroom.

first love! jinx who wasted no time getting comfortable with you. movie nights at her house, late night drives, and the parties. she partied more than one should, saying that’s “what highschool is all about”. she, ekko, vi, caitlyn, mel, jayce, and you all spread out in caitlyn’s glamorous bedroom from the plush bean bags to the girl’s bed, pregaming, chatting, and getting ready for the night.

first love! jinx who always had you do her makeup when going out, claiming it was to “practice the abstract things” you were too afraid to do on yourself. for her, it was the perfect chance to have you close. her hands rested on your hips and moved to the small of your back as you straddled her. your soft fingers cupped her chin gently to hold her face still while you coated her lashes with mascara. she absentmindedly traced meaningless patterns on the skin exposed by your cropped top, never daring to take her eyes off of you.

“all done!” you exclaimed, holding up the mini compact mirror for the bluenette to admire herself.

“you’re an artist toots, always makin’ me look s’ pretty.” the girl wrapped her arms further around you, causing you to giggle while she embraces you with a cheeky grin.

“damn, you smell good,” she whispered, just soft enough to share the thought with you and make you melt.

first love! jinx who confessed by accident when you resided in your favorite spot: the rooftop. you were babbling about college and all of your hopes and worries for the future. everything was changing so fast, and you just wanted to know it was all going to be okay.

you shifted in your position, body tense as you lay facing the ombre sky. “you just gotta promise me that even if we don’t go to the same university, we’ll both call each other all the time and try to visit as often as possible. oh, and you have to-” the girl stopped you with a hand to the cheek, gently moving your face to look her in the eyes. she was laid on her side to have you in her full view. “you worry too damn much,” she said in a tone foreign to her. it was gentle and almost breathless, like she didn’t want to scare you away. “you’re not gettin’ rid of me that easy. not when I love you this much.”

the reason for the shock on your face and the gasp from your soft “o” shaped lips didn’t register until she thought back on her words, face morphing into one of horror and worry. what would you say? did she just screw things up?

“...took you long enough.” you whispered through a grin, placing a hand atop hers on your cheek.

first love! jinx who, once you’re dating, loves sneaking into your room late at night. you’d say good night to your family, put on a special pair of pajamas and lie under the covers awaiting the soft knock at your window. once shes there you hop out of bed, racing to your window and deny opening it for just a moment to tease her out in the cold of night.

first love! jinx who loves having you all to herself. once inside, her arms immediately find their way around your waist and don't let go until you reach your bed. she only releases for a moment before pulling you under the covers and onto her lap, her hands sliding up your shirt and lips finding the sweet spot on your neck. to her, keeping you quiet all night is some fun challenge.

first love! jinx who always forgets to leave before sunrise, resulting in you both waking up in a panic when your parents knock at the door. you quickly shout out “just a minute!” hushed, frantic whispers follow before she hides under your bed or inside your walk-in closet, doing her best to suppress her giggles of adrenaline.

this was supposed to include ekko and cait too but i got way too carried away, love my girls <33

©silknspice

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bruciemilf · 9 months ago

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Reverse de-aging AU where Damian goes from teeny tiny 8 year old assassination machine to 6’4 grown ass man.

He can throw Jason around like a rock and everyone’s sweating piss. Even better if he retains everything and he’s still regular Damian mentally.

Bruce has a Jason 2.0 except GRUMPIER. He’s not sure how he can explain pushing a giant brick shithouse on swings and carrying him around to the media.

“Damian, please let’s stay inside until we figure how to turn you back.”

“I’m legally not required to respect your parental guidelines and orders anymore, so, I’ll do what I want! And I want to drink alcoholic beverages!”

He tries one sip of Jason’s beer and chokes so hard he cries.

Jon is VERY concerned about this random man picking him up from school and demanding they have a playdate. He blasts him into a building, naturally.

#Damian: what job may I acquire with a 8th grade education and no work experience?#jason: cop #damian: I’d rather slit my throat. I’d rather be something respectable. l #he starts working at batburger and Bruce is STRESSED #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dc comics #jon kent #text post #batman #text #dc #batfamily

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mariacallous · 1 month ago

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Doctors at Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) hospitals nationwide could refuse to treat unmarried veterans and Democrats under new hospital guidelines imposed following an executive order by Donald Trump.

The new rules, obtained by the Guardian, also apply to psychologists, dentists and a host of other occupations. They have already gone into effect in at least some VA medical centers.

Medical staff are still required to treat veterans regardless of race, color, religion and sex, and all veterans remain entitled to treatment. But individual workers are now free to decline to care for patients based on personal characteristics not explicitly prohibited by federal law.

Language requiring healthcare professionals to care for veterans regardless of their politics and marital status has been explicitly eliminated.

Doctors and other medical staff can also be barred from working at VA hospitals based on their marital status, political party affiliation or union activity, documents reviewed by the Guardian show. The changes also affect chiropractors, certified nurse practitioners, optometrists, podiatrists, licensed clinical social workers and speech therapists.

In making the changes, VA officials cite the president’s 30 January executive order titled “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government”. The primary purpose of the executive order was to strip most government protections from transgender people. The VA has since ceased providing most gender-affirming care and forbidden a long list of words, including “gender affirming” and “transgender”, from clinical settings.

Medical experts said the implications of rule changes uncovered by the Guardian could be far-reaching.

They “seem to open the door to discrimination on the basis of anything that is not legally protected”, said Dr Kenneth Kizer, the VA’s top healthcare official during the Clinton administration. He said the changes open up the possibility that doctors could refuse to treat veterans based on their “reason for seeking care – including allegations of rape and sexual assault – current or past political party affiliation or political activity, and personal behavior such as alcohol or marijuana use”.

The Department of Veterans Affairs is the nation’s largest integrated hospital system, with more than 170 hospitals and more than 1,000 clinics. It employs 26,000 doctors and serves 9 million patients annually.

In an emailed response to questions, the VA press secretary, Peter Kasperowicz, did not dispute that the new rules allowed doctors to refuse to treat veteran patients based on their beliefs or that physicians could be dismissed based on their marital status or political affiliation, but said “all eligible veterans will always be welcome at VA and will always receive the benefits and services they’ve earned under the law”.

He said the rule changes were nothing more than “a formality”, but confirmed that they were made to comply with Trump’s executive order. Kasperowicz also said the revisions were necessary to “ensure VA policy comports with federal law”. He did not say which federal law or laws required these changes.

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a-spes · 4 months ago

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Hi! If you’re taking fic requests, may I request a story with fem!nerd reader whose a loner, paired with popular Wanda, Natasha, or both?

Their friends challenge them to a bet, daring them to make the reader fall for them. As time goes on, they unexpectedly develop real feelings for her. However, on the day the reader confesses to both of them, she discovers the truth, that it was all just a bet, while their friends are present. Reader distances herself, but Wanda and Natasha do everything they can to win her back. Angst and fluff please!

Of course, you don’t have to write this if you’re not comfortable, but thank you regardless! ☺️

A Penny for your Love. (W. M. x N. R. x R.) — Part one. (5.006 words.)

| Tags & Warning — Popular!Natasha Romanoff x Popular!Wanda Maximoff x Looser!Reader. University alternative universe, social anxiety, loneliness, spiralling thoughts, alcohol consumption (just a bit), insecurities (a lot, not gonna lie), cheating (not really), lies, manipulation (or at least not being honest), fluff, angst (a bit).

| A/N — my draft was very (very) long so there will be two parts (or maybe three, i will see). i hope you will enjoy this first part even if it is coming a bit late!

| MAIN MASTERLIST - REQUEST GUIDELINES. — next part.

You were sure that no one would notice if you were not here.

And this statement was not the result of dark thoughts, it was a fact. A conclusion so simple that the realization had been agonizing — how did you not realize this sooner? You always knew you were not outstanding, but you never thought you were so.. disposable.

People do not know your name, and those who see you every day barely remember your face. Yet, it has been almost three years. And even though you knew you could not blame them — how could you? You had never exchanged more than a few words with them — the heaviness this fact had placed on your chest was impossible to shake off.

It was your fault.

You were the one who put yourself in this situation. You were the only one who could be blamed for it and, at the same time, the only one who could get you out of it. But the realization came too late, you kept repeating yourself, at that time, the friendships were already made, and you were sure no one would need — or want — a new one.

You were sure no one was as lonely as you were.

But that was nothing more than an excuse, a reason not to even try, because the truth was that you didn’t feel up to the task. It should be easy, to exchange a few words with the people you saw every day, for more than two years, but it was not.

Every time you looked at them, you felt your insides knot up. Every time you thought of exchanging a few words with them, you were petrified, not to mention the few times life had forced you to do so. You had uttered a few words whose syllables had become jumbled, your voice trembling as you were saying the words you would regret for the next few years.

It is no surprise that you did not make any friends.

You are a mess.

The voice in your head whispers the same thing again, and again, until you can’t do anything but believe its poisonous words. Your fists clenched until your fingernails leave crescent-shaped marks in your palm, you try to push these thoughts away but, deep down, you know.

There is some truth in these words.

It was no coincidence that every one of your attempts at making friends had failed, and not just at university. It has always been that way. The loneliness and the yearning to be a part of their world, two feelings that had been tearing you apart since a very young age.

But you were used to it by now, even enjoying the loneliness sometimes — It has its advantages. These were also words you kept repeating in a pitiful attempt to comfort yourself, more lies. I do not care, you were saying through gritted teeth but, as you were watching them, you could not ignore the jealousy that was creeping up.

And even though you should not, in these moments, you didn’t want anything more than being one of them. You wanted to be the one who laughs at the jokes one of her friends just told her, even if it was lame. To be the one who didn’t have time to finish her meal because she spent the lunch break chatting. The one who was courageous enough to speak up in class, ask the questions that bloom in her mind and give the answers, even when they were wrong. The one who would not have to worry about the group projects because she would already know who she was going to be with, their eyes meeting before the instructions were even given because it was just as obvious as the color of the sky that they would be a group.

You yearned to be one of those that were brave enough to live, to exist.

But no matter how much you wanted it, you had never managed to get it. The invisible wall that separated you from them was far too thick to be broken that easily, and so you stayed there, watching them from the other side of what seemed to be a one-way mirror — You could see them, but they were unaware of your existence.

And because wanting something was not enough to get it, you never managed to do more than touch your dreams with your fingertips. For every step you took forward, you felt like you were making three back afterwards.

You were not getting closer to your dream.

You were moving away from it, drawing in your own mess.

The few times you had had the impression of being a part of their world had only been illusions that never lasted long. It was nothing more than fragments of what it could be.

And you wanted more than that.

More than snatches, what you really wanted was a permanent spot in this sweet universe that was theirs. A place where solitude would not be a constraint, but a choice, and yours. Not one that was made by others because they did not deem you worthy of their time.

But life is not a fairy tale. It is cruel, harsh, and the reality catches up with you faster than you would like when your language teacher announces a group project — In pairs.

You do not even look at your classmates, preferring to avoid their gaze by pretending you are writing something on your notebook — you are not, you are just scribbling circles. But the motion helps you to think about how you are going to formulate your request. This teacher is a bit of a boor, you thought, so there is little chance of her agreeing to you doing this project on your own but maybe, maybe with the right words you could change her mind.

The course is continuing, but you are not listening anymore, unable to think about anything other than this stupid assignment, than the conversation you will have at the end of the course. Your breathing has quickened, your hands have become clammy, but even though you keep telling yourself that everything is okay, you can’t calm down. At least not enough to be able to concentrate on the class. The teacher’s words seem far away, and they do not really reach you, as if cotton had been put in your ears.

It is a tap on the shoulder that eventually pulls you out of your thoughts, preventing you from falling further down the rabbit hole into which this whole story was dragging you in. When you turn your head, your eyes land on a pretty redhead — Natasha Romanoff. She is not in your class, being a bit older, so you do not see her much outside the language classes.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she murmured, and you must have looked surprised — perhaps even frightened — because she immediately moved her hand back in a gesture of appeasement. “I wanted to know if you would like to pair up with me?” She said, and you could not help but notice how soft her voice sounded as she was asking you to be her partner for the second time, the words not having reached your ears the first.

“What?” You replied without thinking, but maybe you should have, it would have prevented you from saying the stupidest thing you could have. The instant the question escapes you, you bite your lip — she must think you are a complete idiot now, well done, you thought.

“For the group project,” she clarified, “would you like to work with me? If you are not already with someone else, of course,” she said, but it was only to sound polite. Despite what you may think, Natasha Romanoff knows you, and she knows that you are a lonely soul, never heard, hardly seen — You may be discreet, but not enough to escape her observant gaze.

Even though it was the third time she had asked the question, you detected no trace of impatience in her tone, no judgment in her eyes, just a certain.. expectation, but you could not tell for what reason.

“Ar-,” — you sure? You wanted to ask, but you swallow the words before you can say them, replacing them by a simple nod. “Yes,” you blurted out the word, your voice being so high-pitched that you winced with embarrassment for a moment. “I mean.. I do not have a partner yet, and I would love to work with you,” you clarified, trying to control your voice, but your excitement hadn’t gone unnoticed by the redhead, nor did the slight tremble of your hands, and she was now smirking — because you looked like you were about to explode, and maybe you were, for real. “My name is-”

“I know,” she cut you off as she filled in the sheet that was being passed through the rows, writing your name without any hesitation, without a mistake. “Did I write it right?” She asked with feigned care. She already knew that she got it right, and she is not surprised when you nod — she could not say the same about you, though.

You may belong to two completely different worlds in appearance, one barely existing, always in her sole company, the other always surrounded, her presence hard to ignore. And yet, from the very first lessons, Natasha had found something endearing about you, waiting for the opportunity to approach you without frightening you — and she knew she was not the only one whose gaze you caught.

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

Before that evening, the two women had never spoken of you — nor had they ever spoken to you — and you were like a half-confessed secret floating between them, because despite their respective silence, they knew each other too well to not know the truth.

Wanda could see the smile on Natasha’s lips whenever she was coming out of her language classes that, as luck would have it, you had chosen too. And Natasha for sure noticed the sparke in Wanda’s eyes when they landed on you in the corridors, always lingering a little longer than they should on your silhouette.

But they had never been brave enough to put into words what they were feeling, and this desire continued to grow little by little in their hearts. Out of respect, they told themselves, to not admit that it was out of fear — that they would mess everything up.

You were from a very different world. The two women were popular, and all it took was a smile and a few pretty words to get any girl into their bed. Girls who did not care about being a one-night stand, who lived for it, but they could tell that you were not one of them. You were reserved, and solitary, and by the way your fingers trembled and your words tangled at the slightest conversation, they guessed you took things too personally to be satisfied with a one-night stand — you needed time, and attachment.

But they were not sure they would be able to give you what you needed. Their relationship was complicated, messy, it was in their image and that suited them — or almost. And then, out of fear of ruining their chances by taking the first step too soon, or doing things the wrong way, they kept their desires a secret, observing you from afar, pretending it satisfied them.

Until that night.

From the moment they were dared by their friends to choose a target for their twisted game, your name had been on their minds — it has been evident. And so, despite the initial desire not to disturb your tranquility, they made you their prey. Their judgment had probably been impaired by the few — many — drinks they already had that night, but the cheers of their friends quickly cleared their doubts.

They could have chosen someone else — they should have — there were so many girls who envied them, who wouldn’t have minded being the object of a bet — but where was the fun in that? You were different, you were unreachable, always slipping through their fingers, never exchanging more than a few hesitant words with them, or the others.

You always left class the instant the bell rang, never leaving your headphones, and music quickly became your only company to the point where it discouraged any of your classmates from trying to bond with you.

If the women did not know any better, they would have assumed that you were content with your situation, but they had never missed the hint of sadness — and jealousy — that clouded your gaze whenever your eyes landed on the others — nor they had missed the desire in it when you were watching them, thinking they would not notice.

But they always did.

Something in your attitude made them want to wrap their arms around you, to protect you — and to love you — even though they barely know who you are. It is a foreign feeling they had never felt before, not even with each other, their love taking on something completely different, something rougher.

And maybe that is why the two women did not think about the harm this little game could cause, because for a few hours, under the effects of alcohol, they had forgotten how different your world was from theirs, how much more fragile.

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

It is only a few days after you first met the redhead that you eventually came across the second one, Wanda, and for a long time you thought that your meeting had been nothing more than a happy — very happy — coincidence.

At that moment, you were at the library working on some of your assignments, or more realistically regretting some of your materials choices — How could a Sokovian language class for beginners be so complicated? A few months ago, it had sounded like an interesting choice, and you had then been thrilled by the possibility of learning a new language. But you soon understood why so few people chose this class; while it sounded appealing on paper, it was nothing less than a nightmare to study.

Despite trying your best, you were piling up the difficulties, falling behind, and you were not sure you would ever be able to catch up, even if they gave you years to do so. The letters and their sounds, the words and their meanings, everything was mixed in your mind, forming an indecipherable mass of information.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when she approached your table. At this point, it was not about studying the material or getting your exercises done anymore, it was about pushing these thoughts away, those which attempted to drag you down, to encourage you to give up — because what is even the point of putting so much energy into something you are going to fail, as everything else you do?

It is only when she waved her hand in front of your eyes that you noticed her presence, and it took you a few long seconds before you recognized her face.

“Y- yeah?” You stuttered, scrambling to remove your headphones.

“May I sit there? All the seats are taken,” she explained softly, a disappointed pout spreading across her face as she talks. And, unable to refuse — and certainly not wanting to — you hurriedly retrieve your belongings to make room for the brunette.

What you ignored is that her words were not completely true. While most of the tables were in fact taken, Wanda was not actually looking for a seat. She was already on her way out when she saw you, but it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up — Especially since Natasha had already taken the lead in their little game, and she hated to lose.

But maybe you should have said no, because from the moment she sat down, you have been unable to concentrate on your work. All your thoughts were directed to the woman, especially since you could feel her gaze on you as she watched what you were doing.

If her gaze was filled with curiosity, you could not help but imagine judgment in it — What would she think of you if you wrote something really wrong and really stupid? Suddenly, your breathing was a little faster, your hands clammy, forcing you to readjust your grip on your pen several times, and your mind too foggy to be able to do more than pretending to be thinking.

Why did you say yes, already?

Partially because you didn’t know how to say no, mainly because you were so delirious that a part of you was hoping to become friends with the woman, exactly like in fiction where the most beautiful relationships were starting with insignificant, unexpected encounters. It was stupid, and you were perfectly aware of that, already regretting your choice — You should have lied, it wouldn't have been that hard, would it? But the words came too late to your mind, and you were now stuck with that girl until one of you decided to leave.

The minutes stretched until they seemed interminable, as if the seconds had stopped ticking. None of you were doing anything, and she hadn’t even bothered to — or at least pretend to — mind her own business, never taking out her notebooks, never letting her eyes leave your worksheets for a minute.

When she finally spoke, you looked at her with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. If you didn’t understand the meaning behind her words, you could still recognize them as Sokovian — And by the way she pointed to your sheet while talking, you guessed she had seen every one of your mistakes.

But she had not been mean about it, and even the smirk she wore was not mischievous, just very frustrating as you would learn later. The girl — Wanda, as she will let you know in a few minutes — even kindly offered you a little help, probably out of pity, which you tried to refuse. But your lies were not very convincing.

“That’s nice, but I am doing just fine,” you replied, your words sounding a little harsher than they did in your head. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to mind, her smile not faltering.

“Are you sure?” She asked back, tilting her head slightly to the side. But she already knew the answer, you both did, and it was no surprise that you eventually admitted that you in fact needed a little help with your lessons.

“Actually, no,” you conceded, and the chuckle that escaped her lips was so infectious that you forgot your own embarrassment for a moment, a soft laugh escaping yours too.

And if at first you felt bad about accepting her help, that feeling quickly faded as a routine set in. At least twice a week, the two of you would meet at the library so she could help with your language lessons — And damn, you really needed this help. Surprisingly, the woman never lost her patience, and even when you thought she would hate you for making her repeat the same thing dozens of times, she did not, always remaining benevolent.

You appreciated these moments more than you would admit it. Wanda’s presence was breaking your loneliness a bit, even though you were not sure if you two could be considered as friends since you’ve never met outside of the library’s walls.

“Why does it have to be so difficult?” You mumble, and these are the words that usually conclude your sessions, marking the moment when you despair overcomes your determination. Most of the time, they are accompanied by a groan as you lean dramatically on the table, knowing it would make her laugh. A sound you loved to hear because it made your heart beat like never before. A sweet, warm feeling that spreads through your whole being.

At that point, she always whispers the same words that you can’t understand. And whenever you ask her about their meaning, she refuses to give you the answer. “It will give you a reason to study,” is the response she gives you every time. And as she talks, there is that unnerving smirk dancing at the corner of her lips.

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

Since you have met the women, something has shifted in your attitude. It was nothing obvious, but it was still enough for them to notice. You were a bit more confident, sometimes even initiating contact with them instead of dodging their eyes. and you let in a glimpse of yourself you'd usually kept hidden. More relaxed, less withdrawn.

And you felt it too, this change.

The past few weeks, the fear that used to knot your insides had been replaced by a kind of enthusiasm. It was driven by the fact that you knew you would see them whenever you were at university, and even though you were not talking much with them outside of your work sessions, you were looking forward to crossing their paths. The women always had a smile or a lingering hand to spare, and these small gestures meant everything to you as they never failed to make your days much better than they were.

Honestly, if you haven’t yet seen any of them outside university, it was mainly your fault. Despite how great everything was going, there was still this lingering fear you couldn’t get rid off — It was this voice. The one that never failed to remind you how much people must hate you, how much you hated yourself. And it was always here to remind you that the women will dump you at your first mistake, because it is sure you will end up making one. You always do, ending up ruining all the good things you were given.

Studying at the library with Wanda, or working on your group project in a coffee shop with Natasha, it was easy, familiar and you knew how to do it without messing it up. So every time they have tried to propose something different — and damn, they have tried so many times — you’ve come up with an excuse, always being too busy to do anything else than studying.

In reality, the only thing you have been busy with was drowning in your own thoughts. Despite how well things were going with them, you were still not sure if you could really be friends, let alone being more, as your delusional mind liked to hope sometimes.

They are popular, and so are their friends. They go to parties every Thursday, where they probably drink and smoke. They do not worry about everything, and are not scared by everyone. They are pretty, funny, and confident. In other words, these people were everything you were not. They knew how to live, something you did not, and you knew they would notice that you weren’t like them the moment you would meet — And what if they judge you for that? What if they do not like you? Or worse, what if they talk about it with Wanda and Natasha, and the women eventually realize how lame you are ?

But tonight had been different, because this time you had said yes to them — more specifically to the redhead. When she told you she was having a party at her place, you were ready to decline before she even got a chance to finish her sentence. Yet, this time, Natasha had refused to take no for an answer, and after several long minutes of trying to convince — and reassure — you, you eventually agreed. But it was only after she told you — multiple times — that it wasn’t really a party, only a small gathering with a few friends to celebrate the end of the exams.

A choice you were now regretting.

You have never felt so out of place than the moment you walked through that door, entering a universe that was foreign to you — Natasha and you definitely didn’t have the same definition of a “small gathering.” When you didn’t immediately see the redhead, the thought of leaving crossed your mind because it suddenly felt impossible. Until then, you knew the steps you had to follow perfectly — choosing an outfit, coming there, not too late but not too early, bringing a little something — but now?

Now, you were not sure, and this uncertainty was already gnawing at you — Should you send her a message? But what if she forgot about you, or doesn’t want to stay with you all night? Should you get yourself a drink?

The weight on your chest grew heavier with each passing second, but the moment your eyes met hers, it was gone. You weren’t aware of it, but she saw you the moment you entered the room. You had this ability to absorb all her concentration, to the point where she wasn’t listening to the conversation she was engaged in anymore.

You hadn’t planned what happened in the following hours. It just happened, one event after another, and you just let it happen. At the same time, after a drink, or two — or maybe three — you weren't really able to think anymore. This too, you didn’t foresee. But you have been unable to refuse the glasses that some people kept handing you, a part of your actions being driven by the desire to be like them, or at least pretend to be for one night.

“I think you had more than enough for tonight, malyshka,” she intervened at some point, fetching the drink someone was handing you before you could grab it.

“Noo,” you whined in response. The redhead may was right, but the action still felt really unfair in the moment, and you couldn’t help but pout as you witnessed your drink being taken away. “Please, just one last more, I promise I am perfectly fine,” you tried to argue, but nothing you could say would change her mind, and you understood it when the only answer she gave you was a negative nod of the head. “You are not fair!” You grumbled.

“Life never is,” she replied, a smirk dancing on her lips — One that was frustrating but terribly endearing at the same time. One that was atrociously close to Wanda’s, the two women having more in common than they might admit. “Come on,” she eventually added, grabbing your arm as she was talking.

“Where?” You immediately asked, refusing to follow the woman, almost fighting her grip. “I don’t wanna leave,” you whined, and this time her eyes went up to the sky — You may be adorable, but you were also being damn annoying when drunk.

“We are not leaving, I promise,” she sighed, “I have something I wanna show you,... a secret,” she added, lowering her voice. The woman knew exactly what words to use to convince you to follow.

Throughout the walk, one of her hands rested on your lower back, probably because she didn’t want you to get lost — Or to run away. A thought that was really tempting right now. And it was a good thing that she was there to catch you when you got your feet caught. not because of the drinks, but because you were too focused on her than where you were walking.

You could not help but stare, but observe every detail of her face. Your eyes traveled up her jawline, lingering on her lips for a moment too long before tracing the bridge of her nose to these eyes, topped by slightly frowning eyebrows, an expression she often wore when she was focused on something.

“I wanna kiss you,” you blurted out at some point, the words coming out of your mouth before you could even realize it. By the time you do, it is already too late to take them back, and you can’t help but blush under the redhead’s gaze. Fierce, and full of something you couldn’t name — Hunger, desire. Things no one has ever felt towards you in the past.

In reality, the look of surprise on Natasha’s face was — at least partly — feigned. The women already knew about your attraction to her, you weren’t exactly as discreet as you had imagined. Yet, she hadn’t expected you to be so direct about it when you would eventually reveal your feelings for her, you who were usually so reserved, and shy. But the alcohol probably helped loosen your tongue.

“Do you?” She asked, but she already knows the answer, and before you can even nod or mutter some excuses, you are pushed against the corridor walls.

The music from the party was still playing loudly but you could barely hear it, the sound covered by the one of your heart pounding in your ears. You had expected the woman to react in a lot of different ways, but never this one. In the thousands of scenarios that had been created by your mind, never one had involved anything other than rejection — Instant, and disgusted.

The possibility that she might feel the same way you do seemed unreal. You were too used to being invisible, not enough to being seen, and desired. It was something new and foreign, and it made you feel like you were about to die on the spot — But at the same time it was the best thing you had ever felt.

“Then I must give you what you want, printsessa,” she whispered, and even before she leaned in so her lips could meet yours, she was so closed that you could feel her breath brushing against your face.

God, she has waited so long for this moment, unable to take the first step because she was afraid she would mess everything up, afraid that the relationship she has built with you over the past weeks would crumble — Because kissing you means that the bait is over, and she is not sure she wants it to be. Because it has never truly been about this stupid game.

| MAIN MASTERLIST - REQUEST GUIDELINES. — next part.

| Tag list —

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pepshee · 5 months ago

Text

Jealousy, or Jealous Hee

⋆˙ ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Pairing - ex!heeseung x fem!reader

Genre - college!au, smut, angst, exes to ??

Word Count - 3.2k

Synopsis - Heeseung was the perfect boyfriend and your first for everything romantic. When he broke up with you out of the blue and changed his entire personality you didn't know what to do. Until you saw him at a house party that is.

Warnings - cursing, drinking, angst, suggestive, mentions of jake + other idols, arguing, heeseung is a playboy, house party, creampie, oral (f rec.), p in v, mentions of smoking, lmk if i missed anything ! 18+ MDNI!

A/N - this is only my second fic ever and i didnt expect ppl to actually like the last one.. i'm adding smut this time cause i feel it's fitting. please give feedback!! this also might be a multi part fic if ppl want it... this is my first time writing smut too i hope it's good for yall😞 ive read a ton of smut fics so im using those as my references 🙏

PART TWO

Your relationship with Heeseung was going super well. Everyone said you two were soulmates, and were made for each other. You were practically glued at the hip, and did everything together including applying to the same college. You guys celebrated so much when you were both accepted. You knew you wouldn't be in the same dorm per the university guidelines, you both were still so happy.

It was everything you could ever ask for. The summer before college you two went on a long beach trip by yourselves even though neither of your parents approve, but who cares? You're adults now anyways.

The beach trip went super well and you two had lots of fun together, and lots of sex..

He helped you move into your dorm as back to school season is starting and everyone knows it's better to move into your dorm prior to starting school. You also helped him move into his dorm as well.

That was two and a half years ago though.. He broke up with you two days before the first day without an explanation..

────୨ৎ────

It's been two and a half years since the breakup and you still never got an actual reason. All you know is two days before both of your first days of your freshman year in college he texted you saying, "I wanna break up, I'm sorry, I'll miss you," that's it.

After the breakup he changed completely. He became a playboy. He started smoking, drinking alcohol, going to house parties, hooking up, and he'd skip classes sometimes. You never could've imagined he'd do this. To you he was a perfect angel, but it's like a switch flipped on him.

You're both now in your junior year of college. You both went your respective ways but you're not over it, and you don't think you ever will be. When he broke up with you, you cried all night and all day, never leaving the bed nor the dorm. Your roommate, Giselle, only having known you for a week had taken care of you and comforted you. She's now your best friend and she still hears you cry sometimes but pretends not to hear it knowing you were trying to hide it.

Heeseung broke your heart and you don't think you could ever recover even nearly three years later. What's even worse is that he became popular. You heard about his every move pretty much considering everyone was pretty much obsessed with him. It was always 'heeseung this' or 'heeseung that,' you were sick of it. Not because you hated him, hell, how could you hate someone you dated since your freshman year of high school?

You had always heard about his new girlfriends cause it was always the next big news on campus, which you never understood considering they'd only last a maximum a week. This new version of him was unlikable, at least to you, others didn't seem to care that he kept playing these girls. They somehow keep throwing themselves at him claiming they're different. They always expect to be the one to 'fix him' or the one he decides to keep but it never ends up working for them.

The more you heard about him the more it seemed like he was trying to stray far from the lover boy personality he had years ago. The truth is that you still love and miss him, you know it's far gone by now but how could you forget dating someone for five years just for him to break up with you without an explanation?

You couldn't bring yourself to confront him, text him, nor talk to him. It was like that part of your life was imaginary. You hated it, you hated that it happened like this, and most of all, you hated that you didn't know why.

────୨ৎ────

Today you and your friends had planned to go to your friend's house party. Years ago you wouldn't have imagined going to a college party, but that's because you and Heeseung were together and you would've rather hung out with him. Now that you're broken up, you figured at least the free alcohol could help. You've gone to a few parties now, but only the ones that are on weekends.

It was Friday and you only had two classes today. One that was two hours long, and one that was about an hour and a half. You get up and get dressed, wearing just a casual T-Shirt with some shorts as it was pretty warm outside. You finish getting ready, and do your makeup, curl your hair, and grab your stuff before leaving your dorm room.

Your first class was pretty boring as always. it was a literature class which honestly didn't even go with your major but you still had to take it for some reason.

Your second class was also boring, but thankfully it was shorter, even if only by 30 minutes.

Finally, you were done with classes for the day and you and your friends decided to meet up at a nearby restaurant to eat before the party because you're all likely gonna drink alcohol.

After arriving at the restaurant you wait out front for your friends to arrive. It only takes them a short while. All of you walk in to get seated and order your food and drinks.

"So did any of you see Heeseungs new girl?" Your friend Moka had asked. Your friends knew about your history with Heeseung, but they still insisted on gossiping about him for some reason. "No, who is it now?" Giselle was curious, as always, she loved to gossip.

"It's Nayeon, she's so pretty. Do you guys think he will ever settle down with someone?" Yujin responded, you stayed silent throughout the exchange which was a normal occurrence whenever Heeseung was brought up.

Finally the waiter brings all of your orders. You all start to eat and enjoy the food you had ordered. You thought they would drop the topic of Heeseung but they didn't. "Hey look at Heeseung's story!" Karina turned her phone to the rest of you. On the screen you see a photo of Heeseung, with Nayeon, but it's in the cafe you two used to go to all the time when you were together. The text on the photo reads "same place, different person," it was like he was taunting you, like he knew you would see it, like he knew you'd be affected. You tried not to let it show but he was right, it did affect you.

All the memories started flowing back of all the times you two went there, you went so much to the point the employees already knew what you both would order without having to ask. It was your favorite place to go when you had downtime, and when you could leave school in the middle of the day when you were seniors in high school. You had never imagined a life without Heeseung but now you do and it's hard.

You're pulled out of your thoughts by Giselle speaking to you. "Y/N, are you okay? You seemed out of it, and you haven't touched your food much," you nodded letting her know you're okay. "Yeah, I'm fine, sorry," you reassured everyone and went back to eating.

────୨ৎ────

The time of the party was now approaching. You all decided to facetime while getting ready. You decided to get a little scandalous with your outfit which you usually never did. You put on a black lace cropped tank top, with a denim mini skirt which was just a bit too small for you, but that's the point. You put on a pair of thigh highs, heels, do your makeup, curl your hair, and finally add some finishing touches of jewelry.

You and Giselle leave your dorm and head to the campus courtyard to meet up with the other two girls. "Oh my god, Y/N, you look so hot, you have to dress like this more often," you giggle at Karina's compliments. The four of you meet your friend Minnie who is the designated driver. She doesn't like to drink alcohol, but she still wanted to go to the party so she agreed to be the DD.

It only took about 20 minutes to get to the party, you don't know whose house it was but it was pretty large. You all enter the party, and decide to split up. You head to the kitchen immediately wanting to drink some alcohol. You see multiple empty, full, and half-full bottles of various alcohols. You don't even pay attention to whichever one you grab, you just pour it into a cup. The alcohol leaves a small burning sensation in the back of your throat. You walk towards the living room where the majority of people are, but you spot someone you weren't ready to come face to face with yet as the wound is still wide open... Heeseung..

He was with his douchey friends that he had made after he did a complete 180 with his personality. The seven boys were always causing a stir, but they were so hot you had to admit...

You hadn't realized you were staring at him, but he had.

Heeseung was talking with his friends until he had a feeling someone was staring at him. He thought it was just another girl that wanted to suck him off or something. He turned his head to find you staring his way. He didn't really know how to react really, it's been a while since he'd since you despite you two being on the same college campus. He'd only seen you from a distance really.

The truth is he did miss you, and he would purposefully post his new girls just cause he knew you would see and would get jealous. He knew it was toxic and wrong but he didn't really care. At first he had no interest in posting the girls he was with because it would only be for a short while. That was until he started to miss you, miss everything you did together, miss your lips, your smile, your laugh, everything about you. That's when he started to try and make you jealous, and as far as he can tell it's working.

As he looks back at you his lips curve into a smirk before he excuses himself from his friends, "yo, guys, I'll be right back alright?" he announced. His friends give him small smirks knowing that usually when he excuses himself at a party it's for a girl.

You only realize he was staring back at you when he starts to approach you. You internally start freaking out not knowing what to do. Before you can come up with something he's already in front of you.

"Y/N. You're dressed... quite.. sexy.." His smirk gets even larger as those words come out his mouth. "You're also quite flushed, you're already drunk aren't you?" Shit, you hadn't even realized the alcohol had kicked in.

"What do you want Heeseung," you tried to sound mad and upset but it turned out more slurred than you wanted due to the alcohol in your system.

"To talk to my sexy ex-girlfriend, is there an issue?" You hated the cockiness in his voice. You hated how he was acting like nothing happened, like it was all okay, like you didn't cry, and throw up multiple days straight.

"Don't act like nothing happened. You broke up with me out of the blue.. You fucking hurt me." Your words now finally pack the punch you wanted the whole time.

"Come on don't act like that, seriously, just talk to me and be civil Y/N," a fake pout formed on his face as if trying to earn sympathy points from you.

"Can you take shit seriously for once? Ever since we broke up you changed and I fucking hate it! You would've never acted like this two and a half years ago!" You raised your voice at him, it's not loud enough for everyone to hear but some people nearby steal glances at the two of you. "Come on you don't mean that baby," He was starting to irritate you. Does he seriously have no shame? How did he end up like this?

"God you're so irritating you know that?! You're acting like you didn't break my heart, like you didn't leave me high and dry, without a rhyme or reason," now yelling at him because his act was getting to you, how could he be so nonchalant about this?

"Calm down okay? Let's talk about this when you're not drunk, don't cause a scene, you're gonna regret it later baby," his words weren't working on you, but then you then you thought about it. Maybe he was right, you should calm down, you hated creating scenes.

"Why're you calling me baby Heeseung?" Your voice is now softer, no longer yelling at him.

"You used to be my baby," you really didn't know how to react to his words, after all it's his fault you're broken up.

Your thoughts are immediately interrupted by his lips on yours. A feeling you haven't felt in so long. The kiss begins to become more like making out, his tongue dancing with yours and his hands on your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

He breaks the kiss to catch his breath and to say, "you're so lucky my buddy Jake owns this house. Follow me to the bedroom baby," the alcohol, and desire completely throw all of your common sense and critical thinking out the window. He takes your hand and leads you upstairs to an empty bedroom.

Once in the bedroom he immediately closes and locks the door before pinning you against it. Before you can process anything his lips are once again on yours moving hungrily.

He breaks away to remove your top, which coincidentally you weren't wearing a bra under. He lets out a small gasp but then a smirk curves onto his lips. His hands grab onto your breasts kneading them before taking one into his mouth.

You moan at the sensation and move one of your hands to his hair gripping it lightly. "Hee–" your breathless words made him want you even more.

He releases your breasts and removes his own shirt, unbuttoning it quickly.

Seeing his bare torso after so long could've made you cum on the spot, you loved his abs so much, you'd caress them randomly even if you were just cuddling and watching tv. "You're drooling Y/N," he chuckles. "No I'm not!" trying to wipe the saliva that had escaped the corners of your mouth.

He takes your hand and drags you over to the bed pushing you down onto it gently. He climbs on top of you, now hovering above you. He kisses you again while his hands move to the waistband of your short skirt. He breaks the kiss for a moment, "can I?" he asks, waiting for you to grant him permission to remove it.

You nod unable to form words momentarily. He wastes no time unbuttoning the denim skirt and unzipping it. He pulls it down leaving you in just your baby pink lacy underwear.

"These are so cute baby, I love this new pair," Heeseung had seen pretty much every pair of your underwear while you were together. You two were quite the hormonal teenagers in high school.

He then removes his pants, now leaving the two of you in just your underwear.

He reaches to remove your underwear sliding it down your legs before tossing it somewhere in the room. He slowly spreads your legs giving himself a view of your bare pussy. "Just how I remember it... So wet and pretty for me. He'd always do this whenever you two had sex. He'd spend so much time complimenting your pussy as if it could hear him. You always had to beg and plead for him to do something to you. "I'm gonna eat her okay?" he looks up at you waiting for approval whilst positioning his head between your legs.

"Please..." he doesn't hesitate after hearing your breathless plea to start licking your folds. The sensation is one you haven't felt in a while making it feel foreign to you once again. "Hee—" you moan. Your fingers bury themselves into his soft locks.

He continues to lick and occasionally sucks on your clit. He then inserts two fingers and starts moving them in and out of you. The double stimulation from his tongue and fingers making you see colors, the grip on Heeseung's and hair and your grip on the sheets making your knuckles turn white slightly. It's surprising how you're not ripping out his hair at this point. "Shit- Heeseung.. I'm gonna c-cum!" You can feel him smirking against your cunt as your loud moaning signifies your approaching orgasm.

Before you can let it go he pulls away making you whimper at the loss of stimulation, and the emptiness without his fingers. You're about to complain but he opens his mouth before you, "I want you to cum on my dick, not my tongue baby."

He then pulls down his boxers revealing his hard length, the one you haven't seen in nearly three years. You still loved it though, it was so big, thick and veiny... It was one of your favorite things about him, how blessed he was to be so big.

He pumps himself a few times before positioning himself between your legs. "You ready for me?" you couldn't tell if he was talking to you, or your pussy but you responded anyway "yes... please..."

He slowly inserts himself into your entrance going slowly so you can adjust to his size. You moan at the feeling of him stretching you. He bottoms out, pausing for a moment to let you adjust. "Please— can you move," you whine. He chuckles at your words before he starts moving his thrusts starting out slow before he starts speeding it up, the sounds of skin slapping together fills the room as he splits your hole open. You can feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

"You feel so good baby, just how I remember. So tight for me baby," he groans as he feels you clench around him at his words. "Seungie-" your fingers gripping the sheets tighter.

"I know baby, I know," he knew exactly what was happening. He loved the sound of you calling him his old nickname. "Let go for me baby, we'll cum at the same time."

All it takes is a few more thrusts for you both to let go, the knot that was forming in your stomach finally snapping. You felt his warm release coating your walls, and you felt your release mixing with his. He pulled out of you gently, careful as to not hurt you. You could feel the liquids spilling out and sliding down your ass.

Heeseung lays next to you looking into your eyes, "goodnight Y/N," he says softly. You give him a gentle smile before closing your eyes and going to sleep.

What happens now?

What happens between you two?

Do you get back together?

PART TWO HERE

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ithebookhoarder · 1 year ago

Note

Hello hi ! 🤗

Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?

(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover

A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕

Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field.

This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you’re trying to do and why - even if you were already together.

As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over.

However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary.

“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?”

“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?”

“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”

He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes.

David Rossi

He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover.

“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”

He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either.

One, because he’s kind of flattered.

Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves.

Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you.

“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks.

Derek Morgan

Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you.

Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss.

Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it.

The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss.

If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms.

“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.”

“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.”

Emily Prentiss

She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple.

She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you.

“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck.

She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision.

She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.”

With that, she’d be off.

She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself.

“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.”

JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so.

However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in.

She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control.

“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.

After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.

Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.”

Luke Alvez

It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house.

Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights.

“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“

“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.”

“I - ok.”

Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed.

Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.

“You good?”

“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.”

“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”

“No. They just left out the back.”

“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.”

Penelope Garcia

If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.

Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.

All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.

She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it.

“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”

“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.”

“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”

Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together.

As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally.

He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body.

I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear.

“What was that?”

“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”

“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

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Besotted 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your new neighbour brings intrigue and a bit of danger.

Characters: ex-con!Bucky Barnes

Note: Saturday is fat tiddies day. I'm sorry.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"Wow, uh, I'd say that's a lot but it's really not much," you snort at Angelique as she comes out of your bathroom in a tiny string bikini. The leopard print is loud on the tiny triangles barely concealing her tits and a few other parts.

"Not all of us are nuns like you," she retorts and sticks out her tongue.

"I'm not a nun," you roll your eyes.

You're not exactly modest yourself. You like your booty shorts and your cropped tops. And when you're lazy enough, you can be caught walking around in your purple track pants that read sex bomb across the ass. Not exactly classy, but fun.

"Right, right, sure," she scoffs.

"That's a low blow," you hiss.

"Well, it's the truth. What's that now? Twenty-two and you're as pure as the blessed Mother Mary."

"You're a fucking bitch," you sneer.

"I am," she grins and shakes her tits. "But the guys love it."

"You are so dumb," you scowl.

"Try a smile, babe, and maybe someone will want to get it in."

"Wow, did you just come over here to be awful?"

"No, I came over to have fun. Loosen up, have some vodka." She insists.

"Oh, no, I get it, you came to drink my booze," you accuse.

"Look, it's hot enough out that I don't need you breathing down my neck. You invited me over," she snips.

"Regretfully," you tweak your brow.

"Boo, get you're fucking swimsuit on. I'm dying." She crosses her arms and drags her feet across the floor. She grabs her drink; some strawberry kiwi juice and too much vodka.

"Why don't you go start?" You ask. "Better than pouting over your drinking problem."

"Cuntttttt," she growls the last consonant. "Oh, you are the worst."

"Isn't that why you love me?" You blow her a kiss and skip into your bedroom.

You better keep up with her so you can put up with her. Vodka and orange juice should do the trick. A little less sickly sweet. You pull out your bikini. The sides of the bottoms are silver hoops and there's another between the bra cups. It's not exactly a nun's habit, is it? Especially with your tits.

As you come out, you tuck in your left boob, the bigger one. Angelique swirls around her glass before emptying it. It's barely noon.

"You know, you'll probably be drunk before you even get a tan," you chirp.

"Probably," she shrugs and spins. "Come on, I'm bored."

You huff and stomp around her. You pour yourself some vodka then find the carton of orange juice in your fridge. Hm, only enough for one drink. Nice of her to bring mixer for both of you. You dump it in with the vodka and head for the door.

You grab your sunglasses before you step out into the sunlight. It's blazing hot. You slurp back the orange juice laced with alcohol and look around. You don't have much but it's yours. Somewhat. The sunburnt grass and cracked walkway. That's really the dream home.

You put down your drink on the folding table under the mailbox and grab the kiddy pool leaning against the siding. Angelique makes no effort to help. You don't expect her too.

You drag it over onto the lawn and go around to unwind the hose. You unwind it and haul it back with you, tugging out the kinks until it reaches the pool. You'd do this all in the backyard but there's too many ant hills.

You hold the hose and spray it into the plastic pool. As you do, you notice the peculiar dark shape in the next lot; a motorcycle. There's boxes on the other side of the duplex porch. Huh, they must've found a new tenant.

Angelique pops open a bottle of tanning lotion and generously applies it over her arms and chest. She's shining as she smears it over her sandy skin. You'll put on some actual SPF when you get a minute.

You wiggle the hose as you grow bored of filling the pool. Your mind wanders. She always has to say something. Always has to embarrass you. Never lets you forget every time you struck out. Well, you're just a little awkward. Maybe you should stop giving a fuck. Like her.

"Oh, summer feels so good," she struts over with her drink and steps into the pool.

She sits and shivers so her pert tits jiggle. A top like that would do nothing but go missing under your chest. As she reclines and basks in the sunlight, you sigh.

"Gee, Ang, thanks for all your help."

"No problem, girly." She smirks and bends her leg, swaying it as you notice the neighbours across the street gawking. The two pot-bellied men who meet up to gripe on their lawn chair. Ew.

You drop the hose in and go back to the porch. You dip inside for your bottle of sunscreen and come back out. You work at rubbing it in. You'll wait a bit before you get in so it doesn't wash off. It's no Hawaiian coast but that small dented pool is your only relief from the summer heat.

Angelique swishes her second drink in the glass. You don't think she'd help with your back. She's in her own little bubble. As usual.

You hear the snap of the door behind the wooden crisscross that blocks the other half of the porch. You glance over at the shadow that passes by. The unit's been empty almost since you got there. No tenant stayed longer than a month.

The man tramps down his stairs and to the motorcycle leaning on its kickstand. He digs around in the saddle bags then turns. As he does, you catch his eye and give a half-smile. You wave weakly as he keeps going. Oh.

You blink and look at Angelique. She's completely unaware; of your new neighbour or her audience. Two teen boys pass by in a not so subtle detour from their side of the street. You grimace but they're not looking at you.

You turn the bottle in your hands. That man. He's kinda handsome, if he is a bit older. His long hair is a mix of fading brown and grey. His beard is seasoned with silver and his blue eyes shine boldly. And his jawline. That's to die for.

Why had you been so hung up on boys your own age?

The thought make you cringe. Are you serious? Angelique is right. You're too desperate.

“Anj,” you approach the pool.

“If you’re not offering to refill my drink, I don’t want to hear it.” Her eyes are closed behind the dark lenses.

“Why are we friends again?” You mutter.

She just giggles and finishes her drink. Nope. If she wants more, she can get it. You spin away and catch sight of that man again.

Your new neighbour grabs a box from the stack on the front porch. You step up to the property line and smile. He doesn’t notice you as he disappears inside.

There’s not much. The boxes are dusty, marked with the logos of the local storage facility, and his motorcycle is the only other thing there. He must’ve had the stuff dropped off.

He emerges again and you wave, “uh, excuse me? Hi. Neighbour?”

He pauses and his shoulders tense. He faces you slowly. His left arm is covered in ink. The patterns are intricate. His other arm is marked with scars.

You introduce yourself as you sidle up the property line. He stares.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You say. He still doesn’t answer. “What’s your name?”

He looks up then back at you. “Bucky,” he grits out. His voice is sexy.

“Oh, Bucky? That’s cute,” you say. “Say, neighbour, can I ask a favour? I’ll bring you a casserole for your trouble.”

He considers you, “don’t gotta do that.” He crosses his arms. His biceps bulge and so do your eyes. He is built.

“Oh, but I wouldn’t mind, it’s just...” you peek over your shoulder at Angelique as she lazes in the water. The sun beats down on you hotly and sweat beads on your nape. You look at Bucky. “I can’t reach my back.” You show the bottle of sunscreen and smile sheepishly. “Could I get a hand?”

He grumbles and tilts his head. He looks you up and down.

“I really don’t wanna burn. It’s so hot out.” You plead.

Reluctantly he unfolds his arms and comes down the porch steps. He approaches and his chest decompresses visibly as he exhales. He extends his palm to you. You press the bottle into it.

“Thanks!” You let go and shimmy then turn your back to him.

There’s a moment before the lid clicks. He still doesn’t speak. You hear the lotion squirt and brace yourself. He smears it, barely touching you. As the lotion only slides over your skin, he sighs. He shifts and rubs it in more firmly. You push back against his strength, arching your back just slightly.

Your heart races. His hesitance is disappointing. You know you’re not ugly. The reasons you got for your many rejections were that you didn’t want a one-night stand or you insisted on protection. It’s not too much to ask for. You really don’t think it’s your looks.

“All done,” he says.

The lid snaps shut loudly.

You face him, your bikini top stretching dangerous as your chest bounces. His eyes flick down briefly. You nearly laugh. It’s a nice reassurance.

“Thanks, Bucky,” you smile.

He grumbles again and hands you back the bottle. Your cheeks are on fire. He’s so hot. He’s got that definition that makes you all fuzzy. You bet he knows exactly what to do.

“So if you need anything, I’m just next door,” you point to your side of the duplex. “Oh, and I don’t mind noise. At all.”

He nods. You wring your hands around the bottle.

“But you know, if you do, I can be quiet,” you say, realising the double meaning only as your words hang between you.

His brows rise and he dips his chin again. He turns and stalks away. He’s busy. You’re bothering him. You’ll try again when he’s not unpacking.

Your eyes linger on his bike. That might be good place to start. It’s all harmless. You’re being a good neighbour.

You go to your own side of the porch and put the bottle on the top step. You go to the pool and poke Angelique with your toe. “Move over.”

She snorts but gives you room. You get in, arms around the edge, feet up on the other. She giggles.

“What?”

“He’s a bit... ancient,” she flips her sunglasses up and gives you a pointed look.

“Whatever,” you shrug.

“Even so... he’s in good shape,” she sits up slight, flattening her hands against the bottom of the pool. “Hmmm... maybe you might have a chance with the old man.”

“You’re such a bitch,” you growl.

“No, really. Do you think you do?” She asks.

You furrow your brow and search her face, “why?”

“Oh, it could be fun. How about a bet?”

“A bet?”

“Sure, you know, we’re going down to the beach. Got that old house by the shore and there’s only so many spots. You could have one if you can reel him in. No virgins on vacation,” she taunts.

“Fuck, I hate you,” you sneer.

“You love me and I know for a fact, you don’t have a chance of seeing the beach if you don’t come so...”

You take a breath and peer over as your neighbour swings the door open once more. He’s entirely undistracted as he lifts another box. Your stomach swims with nerves. You can flirt; it’s that next thing you never got the hang over. But so far, he’s not even flirting.

“Guaranteed?” You arch a brow in her direction.

“Promise. It’ll give you something to talk about.” She cranes to watch, “you better hope his dick still works.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #besotted #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #au #captain america #winter soldier #avengers

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trendynewsnow · 7 months ago

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New Report Questions Alcohol's Health Benefits Amid Growing Concerns

New Report Challenges Previous Consensus on Alcohol and Health A recent report aimed at guiding the next edition of the U.S. Dietary Guidelines has notably diverged from an emerging scientific consensus that suggests alcohol offers no health benefits. The evidence review conducted by the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine in December rekindled a long-standing belief that…

#alcohol consumption #cancer risk #Dietary Guidelines #health advocates #health benefits #heart disease #moderate drinking #National Academies of Sciences #public health

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valentine-cafe · 5 months ago

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May I have a tiramisu please?

Bottom male reader perhaps meeting Alessio at a club or party and being smitten with him and decides to have a one night stand with him

Also is it ok if I am 🖍️anon? (Pronounced like craynon)

˖⁺. “ pretty party boy ! ” :

﹙ top punkgoth mercenary x bttm male reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 781 alessio x male reader !! 🍒 : ﹙ punkgoth ˖ mercenary ˖ immortal inhuman ﹚

you found the flirtatious hunk at the club rather cute - and it seems like the both of you can't keep your hands off of each other. might as well head over and get into his pants, right?

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ one night stand ˖ penetrative sex ˖ fingering ˖ size difference ˖ degradation ˖ rough sex ˖ spit ˖ creampie ˖ alcohol consumption ˖ club scenes | wc : 1.6k

﹙ receipts ﹚: oh I had wayyy too much fun with this and yes ! welcome 🖍️<3

꒰ other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore ꒱

Parties seemed to be his scene. Even moreso when he's got a pretty lil' thing like you grinding up on him on the dance floor. He barely knew your name but he sure as hell knew the taste of your lips. Fuck. You were fun to kiss.

He found that out especially so when you stumbled with him through the hazes of booze and bright lights. His hands were all over you from the crowd to the bar. He bought you a drink, then two. Let you pipe on about how you're so happy you can unwind after exam week. He finds out you're a student at his uni. Well ain't that convenient?

"Mechanical huh?"

"Yup! First year."

"Well if you need a tutor," his lips smile into the rim of his glass. Glossy emerald eyes flicker over in time for you giggle. Your hand shoves at his arm. Electric. Your touch, your eyes. Everything about you.

So eager too. You just slipped off of his lap after another steamy makeout. Did you even remember his name? "You offerrin' me something, 'essio?" Seems you do. He quite likes it on your tongue.

His hand falls back to your thigh, just as greedy. A calloused thumb strokes along the fabric of your pants. If he could he'd dig in here and now. You'd love the feel of his silver rings clamped round your thighs as he split your pretty little hole open. "Maybe I am. It working?"

What a charmer. His words couple with a grin and a wink. Dangerous. That's the only way to describe. But like most forbidden things, the man donned in silver and black drips with allure.

You are no saint. Indulge, why don't you?

What else were you to do? Pass up on a guy who's so evidently packing something in his ripped black jeans? No way in hell. You snatched him up the second you could. A second make-out, then a third. All the way back to your apartment.

The door shut and the next second he shows you his strength. Wraps large hands round your thighs and hoists you up. Shoves you back into the wall just as his tongue does your mouth. Chills wash over you as a silver piercing graces your pink muscle so graciously. How friendly.

Alessio's far from a patient man. He'll tongue kiss you breathless all while stripping haphazardly at your clothes. Chuckle when you whine and buck at the hand that had just been pre-occupying itself with your pleasure. Another cute thing — your dick in his palm. Especially how it squirts and twitches all over.

"Pobrecito," his tongue clicks beside your ear. His hand returns to your hard cock and squeezes at the head once - twice - as he drops you down into your sheets. Handling you and your furniture as if he owned the damn place. "Too greedy for a man you just met? Or are ya just that pent up?"

The jerky motion of his palm is cruel. You hiccup and he makes sure to kiss on your adam's apple while you grind into the calloused feel. "Please," you quiver. "Please - please please."

Warmth withdraws, you nearly whine and reach for his hair to cling. "Oh baby I haven't even stretched you out yet." Spit streaks your hole, he's got good aim. You can't really appreciate it as his words run rampant through your mind.

Stretch you out? "I can take it - jus' need some lube. I'm not a virgin." So proudly you say it and yet - the shadow of emerald peering down at you renders you nearly timid. He chuckles, deep and dark as his thumb flicks across your tip.

"Aww that's cute."

His free hand circles fingers at your rim. The centre of his brows crease and knit upwards as he croons while you throb around his slowly inching fingers. "That so? Please." Another snicker. Cocky bastard. But maybe he's right, with the way two fingers stuff you up you're suddenly reconsidering what he might be hiding down there.

He'll stretch you out on his fingers more than once. It's slow for the first round. You wonder if that's what he prefers — but the second has you jerking, crying as he fucks his fingers in till the knuckle. So effortless too. Like he's done this multiple times before.

Seems like it. The way he croons and cooes at you tells you he's said these words before. The way he so expertly know where to curl his criminally long and thick fingers only motivates the fact. He'd get you off twice like that. Lean down and kiss your sticky tip so messily before he finally backs off.

What the fuck. Oh that's more than you could have ever imagined. His fat cockhead slaps back into him. Tall and proud with throbs at his tip to match. And that vein that pulses on the underside? You lick your lips to restrain the urge to swoop down and suckle on it. Not that he'd give you a chance with the snatch to your thighs that yanks you to the end of the bed, his cock rests atop your thigh. Fuck — it's heavy too.

He asks if you're ready. What a gentleman. As if he wasn't making you cream on his fingers just a second ago. Caresses your sides and positions. He even made sure to jerk you off a bit while he pushed in. Maybe he's addicted to your pleasure.

Pop! The tip alone has you straining. You squeeze out lube he drizzled all over combined with his saliva. What's Alessio doing? Grinning. As he splits you open on his cock and grips your waist when you try to squirm. Yanks you back down on his dick so that your ass is spread wide as he jams between your legs.

"This the same cock you said you could take hermoso?"

Skin slaps wet and rapid. Plap plap plap! His balls smack against your ass. Strong hands yank you down on every plough of his cock. You're drooling. Loopy. Head limped into the sheets and hands barely gripping anymore.

A mess of your cum stains your thighs and splatters your tummy. Runs down your poor abused ass to mix with Alessio's seed. He's pumped you full who-knows how many times.

And he's still going.

Your dick squirts more when he grabs it with his free hand that's not got your thigh hunched over his muscled shoulder in a tight slot. "Answer me pretty boy." Even his hiss drips with sex appeal.

You try to nod. Try to speak. How can you when he starts bullying a gummy spot so deep inside. Knocking so roughly. Sloshing up your heat with sprays of more cum. How isn't he stopping?

"C-Can - can take it - can take - hngh - 'e-essiiioooooo I can't takkeee iiitttt."

With a shaky hand you pathetically clamp on his bicep. You want him close. And he's so gracious for a man you just met. He drops his weight and squishes you in half. Pours kisses down your neck as he slams all the way. Throbs a few times. Then shallowly fucks you through another orgasm.

You search for his lips. Messy. Just like the kiss he wretches your jaw into. Oh how he suffocates you. How he pumps you full and has your smaller body creaming all over him.

"Tha's what I thought. Yeah. Fucking whore thought he could take me first try huh?" He keeps a grip tight around your jaw when he parts from your lips. Saliva is the only connecting. Strings of slick just like down below where your tight ass spurts messes of cum again and again.

"Right baby? You can take it. Not a virgin after all - fuckk - so take it!"

Another slam. Your body jerks on the bed. You tear nails down his back and sniffle out a sob as you spray his toned abdomen again. The knot in your tummy is tight. Legs tremble on his shoulders. "Please - pleasepleasee-ease-easseeee"

How pathetic. All Alessio can do is chuckle along the crook of your neck as he paints hickies in return of your cum that decorates him.

He thought you were cute at the party alone. But you're fucking adorable when you struggle to take his cock.

Despite the roughness he'll pepper soft kisses all over your face once it's over. Hoist you up into his big arms and carry you to the bathroom. How the hell isn't he spent? You can barely see straight!

You'd be in and out of consciousness but he'll make sure to clean you up. Get you nice and comfortable in your bed before slotting in beside you.

You're surprised to see he's still there in the morning. In your kitchen - making you food? "An apology for wrecking your ass." He jokes. You could get used to this. . . but it's just a one night stand, right? You're reminded of that once he's out the door.

Well. Until later that night when your phone pings. When did you give him your number??

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gojoest · 1 year ago

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ENTANGLED ━━━ chapter one

pairing: gojo satoru x zenin f! reader

series masterlist┊next chapter

synopsis: you — the daughter of zenin naobito (the head of the zenin clan), born with no cursed energy and therefore deemed to be the disgrace of the clan — have only one dream. to escape from your own blood that’s rejected you ever since birth, even if it means you have to dirty your hands in the process. when simply running away is not an option, for they would indubitably find you and drag you back for worse, you find your getaway in the arms of an enemy clan

warnings: MDNI, canon divergent, non-linear narrative (a lot of jumping back and forth between past & present, it’s indicated accordingly), female reader, she/her pronouns, reader is a zenin born without cursed energy, discrimination, abuse and bullying during childhood (she gets the toji treatment :/), brief mention of direct maternal death (regarding reader’s mother), childhood friends that fall out but come together, marriage of convenience (but with a twist), eloping, pining, kind of slow burn ngl, ijichi, shoko, geto, naoya + naobito cameo, mentions of food and alcohol, terms of endearment (calls you miss zenin, bride-o-mine, then mrs gojo later on + sweetheart <- so do you but with a lot of sarcasm behind it), sexual tension, male masturbation, although it’s left vague there’s some elements of incestuous behaviors on naoya’s end, wc: 9.3k

chapter one guideline & timeline:

I. The News — takes place in the present time.

II. The Proposal — two weeks prior to The News.

III. Sealing The Deal — two days after The News.

IV. The Past — flashback to the past, mainly from reader’s pov. this part is to be continued in chapter two, from satoru’s pov.

V. The First Night — after Sealing The Deal.

VI. Bad Faith — the day after The First Night.

The News

Nobody could ever predict what Gojo Satoru was up to, except for one specific behavioral aspect of his — those who’ve spent a fair amount of time around him could easily figure that whatever it was on that man’s mind, it was, without any doubt, unorthodox and crazy.

Yet every now and then, Gojo Satoru managed to outdo himself and exceed even their wildest expectations. This time — by dropping a bomb nobody saw coming, especially not from him.

“Gojo-san, there’s an upcoming mission assigned to your students, and you are to supervise them throughout it”, Ijichi hands a document regarding the occasion, but his arms hang in the air as the blindfolded man is absorbed in a rather peculiar activity, patently unwilling to receive the papers.

“Eeeh”, Satoru drags out a displeased whine, without even bothering to look at Ijichi. Currently seated and mindlessly spinning around in a swivel chair that he rummaged out earlier that day from one of the storage units in Jujutsu High and dragged into the classroom for god knows why. His entire attention focused on keeping his long legs up in the air as he spins as fast as he can without possibly breaking the chair, but still, he shows some semblance of interest. “When? Where? What’s it about?”, the words spoken in slow monotone.

If you look at the papers, you might know the answer to all these, Gojo-san. Ijichi thinks to himself but, of course, doesn’t dare say it out loud. “It’s in two days from now, the location is—”

“Stop right there”, Satoru cuts him off, ceasing his childish ministrations with his feet landing a heavy stomp on the floor. He slowly gets up. “In two days?”, he rubs his chin, thinking, “I am afraid, I can’t. I am getting married then”

Of course, you are. Ijichi thinks in an internal monologue.

“With all due respect, Gojo-san”, he clears his throat to push back the laughter that’s about to climb up and out his throat. “You could’ve come up with a better excuse than this to, umm—”, after fixing his glasses, he continues, “—ditch your duties”

“That was not an excuse, Ijichi, nor was it a joke. I can’t believe you think so lowly of me as a teacher”

For a second there, the evident seriousness in his voice sends a shiver down Ijichi’s spine, which, to be honest, is not entirely caused by the way Gojo spoke to him, but also what he spoke of just now. “I really am getting married”, he repeats.

“Oh?”, Ijichi’s eyes widen, unable to utter another word other than an exclamation while processing the credibility of his words. This man is not joking? This man, of all men, is getting married? For real?

“To be more precise — in two days from now, I will be busy kidnapping this bride-o-mine”

“Oh?!”, still speechless, another gasp leaves Ijishi’s mouth. “You’re eloping?”

“That is correct, ten points for you Ijichi!”, Satoru claps his hands. “Keep this a secret for the time being. I know it's a matter of time for everyone to know, but I'd rather they found out after it’s official since prying eyes might get in our way and spoil our plans. Got it?”

Ijichi only nods in return.

“Good. As for the mission — let Nanami handle it in my stead, the students will be fine as long as he’s with them”

After Satoru left, excusing himself with a “oh, so many things to do before the big day, you know?” spoken with his trademark silly chuckle, Ijichi stood there in the empty classroom for a while, frozen. Shocked to his core still, but now also curious. Who was that woman to make Gojo Satoru want to marry her?

The Proposal

(two weeks ago)

“To say I was surprised to get a call from you would be an understatement, Miss Zenin”, Satoru grinned at you, taking off his sunglasses immediately upon your arrival and placing them on the table.

It’s not that you were late — he was simply early, something quite bizarre for him honestly. Already ordered drinks for the both of you and waiting for you to show up with his legs crossed and fingers nervously tapping on the table — again, being nervous was something quite unusual for him as well.

“And to ask me to meet you here of all places—”, he sprawled out on the chair, leaning his back against the wooden splat, his long legs reaching the other side of the table from beneath and pushing the chair there with his feet to invite you to sit. He was being a gentleman in his own way, to which you rolled your eyes but made no remark. “Are you going to ask me to kill someone for you?”, a mocking chuckle escaped his lips after he finished his sentence.

“Not necessarily”, you replied, unamused.

The day before, you called him. Asking to meet you here, in this secluded spot disguised as a cafe which regular people avoided, since it was a place swarmed by dangerous individuals and illegal activities. Drugs, kidnapping, assassination — whatever shady dealing you could think of. It had to be this place, after all there was no way for a Zenin to meet a Gojo out in the open, considering the bad blood between the two clans since generations ago. Especially not the daughter of Zenin Naobito, the clan head, and Gojo Satoru, the pride and leader of the Gojo clan. It would’ve caused consequences, for you at least.

“You’ve got some balls to come here alone though, I must admit. As intriguing as always”, Satoru scoffed. “I don’t remember the last time I sat this close to you. Not since we were kids”, his lips slightly curved into a nostalgic smile as he reminisced about old times. “Now you avoid me anywhere you see me, like I’m some sort of disease”, and the smile shifted back to a regular one, although you could tell it was forced, just to keep his usual nonchalant appearance. “Not that we meet outside of clans’ gatherings, but still—”

“Can we skip the yapping and cut to the chase? I don’t have much time”, you interrupted. “Sure, Miss Zenin”, he shot back.

Miss Zenin. The way he called you that annoyed you abysmally, and that probably was his intention all along. But you had to ignore it for now, you really didn’t have much time on your hands — you had to go back home before anyone would notice you weren’t around.

“I have a favor to ask, actually — it’s more of a proposal”

“Listening”, his head tilting to the side, eyes locked on your lips, awaiting the words.

“Will you marry me?”

Silence.

It took him a few seconds before he could speak, pondering in his head whether he heard you right. Eventually the only word he could utter was “What?”, to which you said nothing. You figured it was best to give him some time to process the information.

“What’s the catch?”, he spoke again, eyes now squinting.

“Glad you asked”, you gave him a knowing smile.

“Of course. I would say it’s a joke but no way you’d call me out of the blue just to pull my leg”

“True, it isn’t a joke”

“I believe it’s not out of love either? Unless... I am wrong? Have you been harboring such strong feelings towards me all these years?”, his tone slowly transitioning back into mocking after the initial shock had faded.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “You wish. See, that would only happen in your dreams”

Laughing, he slowly shifted in his seat. Leaning his body forward to rest an elbow on the table and press a cheek against his palm, his other hand playing with the straw of his drink. “So, you want out of the clan, huh? And finally have the courage to do it”

“You figured?”

“Well, I grasp things quickly. Considering how the Zenins treat women and especially those born without cursed energy, like yourself, this wasn’t hard to predict. But I am surprised by the choice of your method”

“And I am surprised you didn’t cut me out by now since this was a shot in the dark”, you eyed him, baffled but pleasantly.

“Let’s say I am intrigued by your proposal, which turned out to be quite unromantic, but I'll look past it”, a mystifying grin splattered on his lips. "Also, as you already know, there’s a Zenin or two I am willing to help”, he laughed. “So, tell me — what’s in that beautiful head of yours?”

"Well, as you already guessed — I want to leave the clan. Being a Zenin is not for me, never has been. I’ve been treated like an abomination all my life, looked down upon like I barely fit the criteria to be human in their eyes just because I was not gifted with abilities, and I am done with it”, you paused, trying to hold back the cracking of your voice. All the years of mistreatment washing over you as you spoke. You took a deep breath, “Simply running away is not an option, they will find me and drag me back for worse. You know it. But if you help me—”

“—their hands will be tied”, he finished your sentence.

You nodded. “They can’t go against you. Well, there might be a slight commotion, namely coming from my brother, Naoya. But he won’t do anything brash without father’s approval”

“That lousy brat? I didn’t know the two of you were so close”, Satoru lifted an eyebrow, a bit bothered by this.

“We’re not, but it’s complicated”

He got the message — you did not wish to talk about it. And he’d let it slide. For now. “And you think you’ll be free once you become a Gojo?”

“Not immediately, but eventually — yes. I don’t plan on staying by your side until death do us part, you know”

“What an eventful meeting this turned out to be — first I get a marriage proposal, and now a divorce, all at once”, he laughed, covering his eyes with a hand. Perhaps to hide something in them that didn’t quite align with his laughter. “What if I get attached and refuse to let you go?”, he spoke, with a tone more serious that it took you aback a bit. “Have you considered this?”

“Are you a comedian now?”, you brushed it off. “We both know such thing won’t happen”

“How come you’re so sure?”

“It’s happened before, you know it”

“We were kids back then”, he smiled softly, with a sprinkle of regret on his lips. “We used to sneak out to spend time together, but things are different now”

“But you stopped coming”

“My training got more intense, didn’t have time for games anymore”

“You bet. I know you did it to keep me out of trouble. You were aware I was getting scolded and punished for meeting you”

“Oh?”, he gasped. “You knew?”, a powerless laughter followed the realization that all these years you didn’t just avoid him out of spite. Part of him felt at ease about it, that you always understood him, even without words. Just like back then. Maybe because you were both a mutation of a different breed — a special boy put on a pedestal by many, a monster if you will; and a nonspecial girl looked down upon by her own blood as a disappointment, barely a human — yet the loneliness you carried weighed the same on your hearts.

“Yea”, you sighed. “Back then you did it to keep me out of trouble, now you’ll do it to get me out of one. When the time comes, we’ll separate but keep it a secret. If my clan finds out, they won’t let it slide. I’ll show up for gatherings every now and then, to dodge any possible suspicions, but that’s all. Treat this like a deal”

“That’s all good, but deals require an equivalent exchange so both parties benefit from it. You get your freedom. But what about me — what do I get in return?”

Your lips curved into a scarce smile, delighted that he was willing to negotiate. This could actually work, you thought. “Well, it’s not like your family will be very pleased to have me but still. The most important thing is, you won’t ever have to deal with the blind dates your clan sets you up on, with an arranged marriage in mind. I bet they’re nagging you about it constantly since you’re pretty much of age now”

“What my clan is concerned about is an heir, marriage is just a stepping stone. How will this temporary thing between us do that? Temporary and fake on top of that?”, he questioned through a scorn.

“I’ll give you a child”, you shot at him in a heartbeat, voice unwavering. This was part of the plan after all.

“What?”, he laughed, tilting his head in pure astonishment at your offer.

“We will lead a normal married life, like a proper wife and husband. I’ll have your child, this secures me even better. That way I’ll be tied to the Gojo clan forever, not the Zenin”

“You’re aware what we need to do in order for you to have my child, right?”

You were, but when he put it like that your face got hot against your will, heat burning your cheeks and sizzling on your ears. “I am”, you mumbled, unable to look him in the face. Petrified to meet his gaze.

“You really are insane”, he covered his face with both hands. Perhaps he was petrified, too.

“Coming from you that’s rather concerning. Now back to the point — you up for it?”

“Alright. Let’s do it”

Sealing The Deal

(back to present)

For the past two days Satoru pulled all the strings possible in order to speed up the marriage procedure. He diligently prepared all the needed documents to officially register your matrimony. All that was left was to go to the ward office and submit the marriage application after signing it along with two witnesses.

With that, today would mark your last day as a Zenin.

“Do you know who the girl is?”, Shoko asks, leaning against the wall in the ward office hallways, waiting for Satoru and the mystery bride to arrive.

Geto shrugs from next to her, “Nope, no clue. Still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this is happening — he is actually getting married”

“You of all people didn’t know he was involved with someone?”, she scoffs, turning her head in his direction. “Strange, maybe he was hiding the love of his life from you so you wouldn’t snatch her away”

“He wasn’t involved with anyone, if he was — we both would’ve known. Besides, what do you mean by that? I would never break the bro code, come on”

A semblance of a lazy laugh slips through Shoko’s lips. One can tell she didn’t get much sleep (again) by how lethargic and unenthusiastic her reactions were. “Girls end up falling for you always, so maybe he chickened out to introduce her”

“That’s because he sucks with girls”, Geto snorts.

Satoru wasn’t exactly the sweep-you-off-your-feet type of guy. His looks were bewitching, that was a given, and women would latch on him, only to give up shortly after. And all the reviews were unanimous — I want someone that will put me first, but with him — I don’t see it ever happening, his mind is elsewhere.

“Maybe he finally caved in after years of his family pestering him to get married”, Shoko throws another guess.

“Satoru caving in to an arranged marriage? Seriously, Shoko... Does he look like the type to listen to what elders tell him to do?”

“He never looked like the marrying type either, yet here we are”

“I don’t know”, Geto sighs heavily. “This is way too odd”

“Hey, hey~”, Satoru’s voice echoes through the hallways. “Sorry to keep you waiting, my bride was barely able to sneak out from the Zenins. You know how the old farts there are”

Hearing the name Zenin, Shoko and Geto glance at each other with the same perplexed look in their eyes. A Zenin? Sneaking out?

Forcing a somewhat adequate smile, you shake their hands. You could tell they were taken aback after hearing your name, it was written all over their faces that they didn’t quite endorse this insane whim of Satoru’s.

“Satoru, can I have a quick word with you”, Geto pulls him to the side after giving you a polite smile as a form of apology.

“Are you eloping?”, he whispers, although quite audibly, “With a Zenin? Have you actually lost your mind, Satoru?”

“Suguru”, Satoru lazily drapes an arm over Geto’s shoulder, “Yes to your first question, as for the second — have you ever seen me be normal about anything?”, he laughs.

“Not the right time to humor your misery, Satoru”, Geto says through gritted teeth all while forcing a smile looking your way, to avoid any awkward impression on your end that the two of them were talking about you (even though that’s exactly what was going on). “There’s existent animosity between your clans already, are you trying to start an actual war all over again?”, he snaps, giving a sharp nudge to his side.

“Ouch~”, Satoru yelps. “Come on, Suguru. What can they do to me?”, his words brimming with confidence compel Geto to rub the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Do you remember, that one time on the rooftop back when we were still students in Jujutsu High, I told you about a girl from my childhood?”, Satoru continues.

Geto nods. He does remember it vividly, after all it was the first and last time Satoru has ever talked about a girl of his own accord and with so much passion behind his voice.

“That’s her.”

“It’s our turn”, Shoko interrupts. “Let’s go get you married”

As you all entered the hall, Suguru gave Satoru a soft pat on the back and glanced over his shoulder at Shoko with a validating nod.

Satoru got a pass from his moral compass.

Signatures were inked, rings were exchanged, and vows were made to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part.

It is said that vows are crucial in a marriage, they set the tone for your relationship going forward and serve as a ground to build your values on. Whatever values could be built on a soil soaked with lies, you thought to yourself as you all walked out. As soon as the ceremony was over Shoko rushed out to get the dose of nicotine her body was yearning for the entire time inside the ward office, leaving you three behind.

There was nothing holy about your union, it was a lie to begin with. And, naturally, so were your vows. It shouldn’t bother you this much that you were to break the fake promises you just made to the man that handed you a one-way ticket to your freedom.

“What’s with the face, Mrs. Gojo?”, Satoru softly pokes you in the arm, the unease in your expression doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “We just tied the knot, yet you look like you just walked out of a funeral”

A funeral. Right. That’s how it felt to you.

You buried yourself, your past, in there. You got what you wanted, but part of you was terrified of the new person you were to become. Mrs. Gojo, huh? You were not in the right headspace to be snarky about it now.

“I’m fine. All these formalities are draining, that’s all”

“Then we’ve got to recharge”, he grins, then turns around and shouts at Geto who’s walking a few steps behind and scrolling on his phone, “Suguruuu, let’s celebrate, shall we?”

“Geez, you’re loud, Satoruuu”, he cracks an irked grimace, sticking a pinky finger into his ear.

“There’s no need for that”, you whisper, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

Satoru’s fingers trace over your knuckles, hesitant to get a proper hold of your hand, but he gives in anyway, “We have to pretend there is”, he speaks in a low voice, and wraps his hand around yours. “Besides, it’s lunchtime. We need to eat”

You don’t resist, neither his touch nor his words.

On your way to the restaurant that your (now) husband made a quick call to reserve a table for four, Satoru sat on the driver’s seat — a rare occasion, usually Ijichi drives him everywhere — glancing at you beside him on the passenger seat at every opportunity, studying your features and how much they’ve changed compared to his childhood memories of you. It’s not like he never saw you after that. But you’d never let him take a good long look at you, always running away the moment you noticed him around. Before he could know it, he was smiling, mouth agape — a soundless “ha” passing through the crack of his lips, the sunlight hitting his eyes, yet he couldn’t blink — he had to take you in. He was back to being a child at that moment, wearing his genuine feelings on his face without knowing how to mask them. And you... you were even prettier now.

The two sitting on the backseat exchanged an astounded look after observing the scene unfolding before their eyes. Who would’ve guessed that their friend had such a hidden, soft spot for someone and could make such genuine faces?

The Past

You were born with bad luck.

That’s what you told yourself. And that’s what others, who felt sorry for you, thought so too. Mostly those unfortunate enough to be servants in the Zenin clan that have witnessed way too many things happen to you.

First, you were born into the Zenin Clan as the daughter of Zenin Naobito, the leader — that alone was the biggest mishap the heavens bestowed you with. A problematic clan with questionable values, where owning powerful cursed techniques was held in highest regard and considered the measure of your worth as an individual and whether you were fit to be a Zenin. Rejecting, without an ounce of remorse, their own flesh and blood and looking down at them like inferior beings did they deem their ability weak and unworthy.

With that being said, here comes the second — you were born into that clan, with no cursed energy. You didn’t make the cut ever since the beginning. The clan didn’t even mourn the fact you were lacking, they simply treated you indifferently, and sometimes with disgust, like you were one of the servants — easily replaceable. “It’s not enough that you were born a girl, but you are also lacking the gift. You were never meant to be part of this family to begin with, the name of Zenin will abandon you once you get married”, your grandmother would often tell you, right before throwing you into the disciplinary pit with curses. Till then, maybe through some miracle you could manifest some cursed energy if she locked you up there for long enough, so you could be at least a little bit useful.

Wait. There’s a third, too — your mother lost her life giving birth to you. It’s not like you felt any guilt for that, you never knew what parental love was anyway, therefore didn't see it as a burden that weighed on your conscience. In fact, you were partly relieved that there was one person less to mistreat you there.

Your older brother, Zenin Naoya, would often use this to harass you. Telling you “Maybe you’re not that hopeless after all, since you killed mother. Or maybe that’s even worse — she’s going to be your only kill” with that revolting laugh of his.

Other kids looked down on you too, avoiding you like you carried some disease. There were rumors even, how childish, now what you think back — that if you came closer to them, you’d rid them of their powers and of their mothers too. Oddly enough, those rumors were started by none other than your brother. Perhaps he wanted to be the only one to pick on you. While he made every woman walk three paces behind him, he’d keep you close, telling you in a condescending manner “How am I to look down on you if you keep walking behind me, little lamb?”

And you truly were a little lamb. Living and growing only to get the life in you eaten away by the Zenins. A sacrifice for no good.

But the summer of your sixth year was different.

You met a boy.

He looked like winter in the middle of summer. Snow-white hair falling over his face and likewise lashes, sitting like tender snowflakes on his eyelids. The bluest blue in his eyes you had ever seen in your life, and if you stared long enough it’d throw you into a trance.

There was a sense of loneliness to him akin to winter too.

How when the cold months came around, people would spend less time outside and instead run to their homes to warm up in front of the fireplace. He was the winter people were hiding from.

And you figured, you had heard of him. He was the special boy of the Gojo Clan, the first in centuries to inherit both The Limitless and The Six Eyes, whose birth alone shifted the power balance in the world, who had a bounty over his head at such a young age for being a force too great to be kept alive.

He was the complete opposite of you, yet somehow the same as you. One rejected for being too much, and the other — for not being enough. Both were similarly exhausting, arduous, and lonely.

You first met during a clans’ gathering. The big three brought together under one roof to discuss some matters you can’t quite recall now, just like you don’t remember the reason you were brought along. Perhaps to carry stuff around, like you always did.

An exchange of shy glances as you waited outside, sitting on the wooden engawa (veranda) led you both slowly scooching over closer to one another, until the gap between you was small enough that you could see how his heartbeat made the collar of his kimono flutter ever so slightly.

“Is it sweet?”, the boy pointed at the popsicle in your hand. “It is”, you answered along with a nod. Bringing it up to his mouth — “Want some?” — you invited him to take a bite as he looked at you with uncertain eyes. A blush painting a beautiful cherry hue on the pale complexion of his cheeks. He nibbled on the side of it — “It is!” — his eyes grew wide, a glow in them.

“You’ve never had one? — surprise in you voice. “Of course, I have”, he lied, scratching the back of his head, a bit embarrassed of possibly seeming uncool in your eyes.

He had a strict regime when it came to the food he consumed. Whatever he put into his mouth had to be of great value and nutrition, diligently prepared by the best chefs, so his body, or as others saw it — the shell where a god resided in — would grow healthy and strong to be on par with his powers.

It was the first time you shared food with someone else. You usually ate alone, disgusted by the Zenins surrounding you around the table that your throat felt too tight to swallow anything that you put in your mouth, be it water even.

And it was the first friend you ever made. While everyone up until now turned a blind eye and avoided you, he didn’t run. He even stayed.

Introducing himself as “Satoru" only, he deliberately refrained from saying his full name at first. When you never pushed him to reveal it, he turned a bit fidgety.

“You never asked about my last name” — lips slightly pursed, the muscles on his face fighting off a pout but failing eventually. “Maybe I’m not that interested in you” — tilting your head, you teased, yet — “Just kidding, I know who you are” — you quickly added upon seeing his brows knitting in dejection. “But you can be just Satoru with me”

From that day onward you’d meet in secret every now and then, whenever both of you could manage to sneak out. For just a little bit. To eat popsicles and other sweet things together.

That was, until your brother found out.

Naoya always kept tabs on you after all. You were a prey to him, and chasing you was like a game. It was only a matter of time before he knew. Or perhaps he did already but let you sneak out on purpose so he could use it to his avail and torment you further.

Naturally, the time you spent with Satoru fell shorter compared to that spent in the disciplinary pit. “That’s to teach you a lesson, little lamb”, Naoya would say with a twisted look in his eyes as he locked you up in there.

At times like this, you’d remember your grandmother’s words — “the name of Zenin will abandon you once you get married”.

...and an idea brewed in your mind.

If you could run away right now, you would. But where would you go? What would you do? You were only six. If your own flesh and blood was this cruel to you, how could you expect the outside world to treat you any better?

You were not that naive. You knew you had to wait.

You endured the endless hours that felt like days and weeks in that pit, surviving by pure miracle every time. Or was it hope that kept you fighting? Because you knew, by the end of it, as long as you were alive, you’d find a way to meet your friend, the only one you had. And maybe he could save you one day. Maybe, tomorrow you could make a promise to each other — that when the time came and you were both of age, you would take his last name and be freed of the curse you were born with.

...but Satoru never showed up.

(to be continued)

The First Night

(back to present)

It was getting late. You spent more time than originally planned at lunch with Shoko and Geto as everyone had already cleared out their schedules for the day to join you on your escapade.

You thought at first, that the entire time you would have to dodge questions such as How did this happen? When did you start seeing each other? When did you decide it was time? Who proposed? How? Doesn’t the animosity between your clans worry you? Have you considered the consequences even? Are you perhaps pregnant? Is this why all the rush is for?, etc...

But that never happened. Neither of them pried, nor made you uncomfortable invading your personal space. In fact, they made you loosen up a bit by being warm and friendly, already treating you like one of them, mocking Gojo’s constant mischiefs in front of you. The setting resembled that of a parent-teacher meeting where you were in the role of the parent, and they were the teachers complaining to you about Gojo. It was a rather humbling experience for the whitehaired man who sat there pouting and subtly gesturing for them to cut it.

But when he heard you laughing at their stories, he ceased. Sucking it up, he let them continue playfully bashing him. He had really missed your laugh.

“So~ we’re here — welcome to your new home”, Satoru points at the huge mansion after helping you hop out of the car. One of the bodyguards in the yard immediately took the keys from his hand and drove the car away to park it in the garage area.

To say this thing before your eyes was huge would be an understatement actually. After you quickly scanned the place you noticed there were a few more houses built around the mansion, and perhaps even behind it.

The Gojo household was located in a huge, fenced area with a single front entrance, for security purposes (so it would always be known who walked in and out under meticulous surveillance), leading to a big yard with a well-kept garden befitting the Gojo Clan. The first house in front, and the biggest, was the main mansion — inhabited by Satoru’s parents and grandparents (from his father’s side), while extended family (like aunts, uncles, cousins — basically the most important members of the clan) resided in the ones around it.

Satoru, despite being the clan head, did not live in the main mansion. His place was relatively isolated from the rest (ironically resembling the life he led and the powers he had), situated far behind all the houses, right before a path that led to a forest-like area as part of the Gojo property.

“No way”, you gasp — “Don’t tell me you live with your entire clan?” — as you quickly pad forward, leaving him a few steps behind, to further inspect the place.

“Not technically but yea, we stick together — clan traditions deem it this way”, he sighs.

“Never took you as the tradition following guy, to be honest”

He chuckles, “What can I say — I am full of surprises~ But truthfully, as the clan head I can’t just up and leave, you know? Besides...” — a pause, observing you as your eyes roam around studying the place, head turning from one side to the other in astonishment. Then his gaze shifts to his left hand. Lifting it slightly and spreading his fingers to look at his ring, and then back at you. “...sometimes deeply rooted habits are hard to break. Especially if one holds onto them for too long. It’s hard to let go no matter what kind of person you are”

“There’s something even beyond you, Gojo Satoru?”, your voice almost mocking but somehow lacking the right tone to it, too distracted by your surroundings.

He laughs, “Maybe. Just one little thing only” — words mumbled under his breath, too soundless for your ears to catch on.

After you made it in, he gave you a full tour around the house. Walking you through each and every room, thoroughly explaining where things were and how you could touch up anything you desired and change it to your liking — this was now your home, too.

The last stop was the bedroom.

“Should I carry you in bridal style? That’s how newlyweds do it~”, Satoru smirks at you, arms crossed around his waist, his side leaning against the doorframe.

You were about to make a face there for a second and give him an eyeroll, maybe even pick on him for watching way too many romcoms, but you held back.

“Sure, why not”, you mumble instead, looking down.

After all, before you was the room where certain things were to happen in, according to your deal, and you thought it’s best to let him indulge in this play pretend and carry you in as your feet were frozen in their tracks anyway. Nervous of what was ahead, you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

“Oh?” — caught off guard, not expecting you to actually go along with it, he gasps, but then — “Right?” — quickly plays it cool. “Alright, bride-o-mine, here we go”

Charging towards you with a slow step, he leans down so your eyes are on equal level, face an inch away from yours. So close that, as he cracks his lips open to swipe a tongue across them his hot breath feels like steam against your skin. Licking his lips, a habit you were painfully familiar with, it was something he did when he got nervous that seemingly didn’t change from when he was little.

He scoops you up effortlessly, holding you tight but tenderly at the same time. His fingers clutching firmly around you yet at the same time careful enough to not bruise you. “Almost there”, he pushes the creaked door open with his foot and carries you in through the doorway.

Flustered, you turn your head the other way in an attempt to hide the heat eliciting from your face. You were way too close. His scent invading your nostrils, you could almost distinguish his natural body odor from his perfume.

“Oh, my... If you shy away this easily”, he carefully sits you on the bed — “how are we to make that baby~ Hm?” — and smugly smirks as he plops down next to you right after, his knee scarcely brushing against your leg.

“Tch...”, you click your tongue, heat still spreading like fire on your cheeks, and even far up to your ears. “Didn’t know you wanted to bed me right away?” — is he really going to jump on you now? Why bring up the baby talk otherwise...

He gasps in an overexaggerated manner, gluing fingertips to his mouth, “Thought I could give you some time to adjust, but if you insist...”

“Ugh, Gojo”, you aim a reflex eyeroll his way.

“What now, are you talking to yourself?”

“Excuse me?”, you lift a brow.

“You’re a Gojo too now, you know?”, a grin on his lips, the kind he makes when he’s about to win something. “When you refer to me, you have to say my first name — Sa-to-ru — to avoid any confusion~”

See, that was his goal all along — to make you call him by name, just like in the past.

...but two can play this game. You had no intention of losing this battle to him.

“Sweetheart”, your tone overly delicate on purpose, as you tilt your head, cheek pressing against your shoulder. “Isn’t this better?”, you flutter your lashes at him.

His reaction comes slow. The full grin from a second ago is now a half, the other half — a surprise, with a sprinkle of a new, unknown to you glint in his eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game there, sweetheart”, he breathes, scooching closer to you. An arm finding its way around your waist, wrapping itself from the small of your back all the way front, hand stopping at your navel.

A flinch shudders through your body, but he’s got you still, you can’t pull away. “What happened to giving me time to adjust?”, you mutter, not as feisty anymore. This was a side you haven’t seen to him, which you figured was natural. You knew him as a kid, now — he was a man. And like all men do, he was acting on his urges.

“You push my buttons”, he’s leaning closer, and closer, and closer, until your noses are brushing and breaths are exchanging. His free hand rolling up and tucking the few strands of hair falling on your face behind your ear, then slowly sliding to the back of your neck. “Trying to get me excited?”

“If a mere endearment excites you this much, what will become of you when I say your name?”

He laughs, his breath infesting your mouth. Lips accidentally grazing yours from the action itself, which draws a low, helpless hum out of him. “Care to find out?”

You jolt — something about the way he was looking at you told you this wasn’t just some simple teasing — and finally bring your hands to use and push him away and get up. “I need a shower”

“Ah, got all hot and bothered? It’s okay, I am used to it — I have this type of effect on women all the time~”, he chuckles, earning yet another eyeroll from you. Reaching behind to grab a pillow and sit it on his lap, subtly hiding the fact that he got all hot and bothered, too. “You know where the bathroom is, sweetheart”

He won this round.

Satoru is still sitting in the bed, back relaxed against the headboard with one foot thrown over the other on the mattress, as you make your way out of the bathroom. You smell like him now, he thinks — only natural after having to use his shower gel and shampoo — as your freshly showered self approaches the side of the bed your pajamas were carefully folded and placed at. He took it upon himself to buy them for you, along with some clothes, and shoes, and bags, since you couldn’t pack and take anything with you.

“Can you, umm”, you fidget, “turn around or something? I want to get dressed”

“There you go again, shying away from your own husband”, he smugly teases.

“Oh, you want to watch so bad? How perverse of you, sweetheart”, you mock, loosening the belt of your bathrobe so the fabric covering your shoulders slides down a bit, revealing more of your flesh.

There’s a good chance for this reverse psychology to backfire now, you think, but you just couldn’t make peace with him picking on you like that.

He shifts in his place, now sitting up on the opposite side, legs touching the ground and his back turned against you. The transition was so quick and instinctive as if he, by sheer luck, dodged a bullet aimed to take his life. “I’d love to stay for the show but, you see...”, he rubs the back of his neck, “I need to check the report regarding my students’ mission from today”

“I see”, a victorious smirk on your lips as you watch him walk away.

This round was yours. Now you were even.

You were going to be trouble.

The report was, of course, an excuse. He had to make it out of the room, or he would’ve done something terrible to you.

His face burning hot as he quickly stripped himself of his clothes in one of the guest rooms downstairs and went straight into the bathroom to cool off. An aching pulse on his groin dragging inaudible curses from his mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

A stream of ice-cold water hitting his face, hugging his shoulders, cascading down the rest of his well-built body before washing down into the drain. He stands there still and completely unaffected by the temperature. He was burning inside.

Eyes shut, he thinks about you — about the way that bathrobe loosely enveloped your frame, about the gap temptingly revealing bits of your cleavage, leaving little to the imagination... about sliding his hands down into that very gap and pushing it open, taking the fabric covering your shoulders in his hands and pulling it down your arms to expose your breasts... about clasping both of your wrists behind the small of your back while his other hand moves to the side of your face and holds your chin before kissing you hungrily... then moving to your jawbone, and then lower, and lower... and lower, kissing and nibbling until he reaches your nipples, and then further below...

His hand relentlessly stroking his cock to the visual of you in his imagination. Part of him absolutely disgusted by what he was doing right now, thinking how he was tainting the innocent girl from his memories. But then another, the one he couldn’t suppress — shamelessly trying to picture even beyond, making up in his mind what he thought your sweet expressions and obscene sounds would be like under his touch.

His balls tighten up to him as he pumps himself from base to head with firm strokes, low growls rising from his throat echo through the walls the faster his hand works up and down his shaft.

The tension soon leaves his body, his cum oozing out from between his fingers and spraying all over the bathroom tiles.

Oh, you were going to be trouble for sure...

“What puzzles me though, is that nobody has called you all day”, he walks into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his hips. “In all honesty, it’s been bugging me for a while now”, a hand brushes back his damp hair.

“They think I’m staying over at a friend’s place”, trying to ignore the view before you, you avert your gaze from him and his ridiculously lean body and well sculpted six pack that looked way too perfect to be real. He probably came here half naked, on purpose, to get back at you for earlier... Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing — you kept internally repeating to yourself. Play it cool.

“And they let you?”, he casually saunters over to you, his hand reaching behind you to grab a hold of his nightwear sitting on his pillow. Seriously? He had to walk all the way to your side only to reach for the pajamas placed on his? What a sore loser...

“Mhm”, you hum, lips tight and eyes looking down at your lap, “I managed to convince father. The odds were in our favor, I guess? — But I have to pay them a visit tomorrow, to deliver the news”

“We will pay them a visit”, he corrects you. “I’m coming with you”

“You don’t have to”

“But I want to”, he insists, his resolve is solid.

“Okay”, you don’t resist any further. “What about your family? When are we telling them?”

He makes his way to the bathroom inside the room, while still speaking to you from over there. At least he’s not as shameless to get dressed in front of you.

“They’re easy, I’ll talk to them some time tomorrow. Might organize a little thing to introduce my wife properly, heheh”

“How do you think they’ll take the news? I mean, I know they won’t endorse it but — on a scale from one to ten, how bad do you think it will be?”

“What does it matter when it’s fait accompli? Besides, they can’t go against my decisions, so”, he shrugs after making it back, fully dressed now. Thanks god. But wait...

“Did you seriously get us matching pajamas?”, you look him up. He was wearing the exact same pair in blue, while yours was a light shade of pink.

“Yea?”, he emits a dorky snicker. “Don’t you think it’s cute?”

“Ew, cringe”, you fight back a snort.

What a truly bothersome man...

Bad Faith

— (n.) dishonest behavior with the intention of deceiving someone. “bad faith” refers to dishonesty or fraud in a transaction. depending on the exact setting, bad faith may mean a dishonest belief or purpose, untrustworthy performance of duties, neglect of fair dealing standards, or a fraudulent intent

You slept well for once in your life, despite being in a new place, a new bed — you knew you owed it to the fact you were away from the Zenins.

The same can’t be said about Gojo though.

He stayed wide awake all night, restless, turning and tossing, making occasional visits to the shower even, to calm it down. Annoyed to some extent by how he was the only one in turmoil while you innocently slept next to him, unaware of his condition. He felt like an insatiable teenager all over again. How embarrassing, he thought...

During the whole car ride to the Zenins, he kept yawning and rubbing his eyes from beneath his pitch-black sunglasses that were adeptly hiding his dark sleepless circles caused by none other than you.

“You can wait in the car”, you try your chance one last time after arriving.

“I said I’m coming with you, so don’t waste your breath”

“Fine”

After you both make it past the gates of the Zenin household, the few of the servants standing in the veranda quickly pad inside — most likely to bring it to your father’s attention, you think.

All the rest you got the night before instantly leaves your body now that you’re in Zenin territory, your chest filled with unease as you cross the threshold of the place that, despite being so big, could never quite fit you in and be a home to you.

Your mouth feels too dry, you try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it keeps sitting there like an immovable object, growing bigger even the further you step in.

Unknowingly, you’re grabbing Satoru’s hand, squeezing it tight. “Relax. I am right here”, he leans in to soothingly whisper in your ear, which makes you realize your actions. You pull your hand away, picking up your pace.

...only to slow down and take a step back the moment your eyes fixate on none other than your brother, Naoya, leaning against the wall in the hallway. Waiting for you. His hair falling on his face, covering the look in his eyes but by the way his teeth bite into his lower lip, you can tell — he’s not thrilled by the view of you together.

“Well, well”, a loud, hysterical laughter erupts from Naoya’s mouth as he strolls over to you, thumbing the bridge of his nose. “If this doesn’t remind me of good old times when my little sister would sneak out to play with you — are you perhaps falling back into that bad habit of yours, little lamb?”

You flinch as Naoya’s claw-like hand reaches for your shoulder, ready to hook his grip on you, but with a swift move Gojo stands in front of you and stops your brother, leaving him unable to go any further due to his infinity. “Hello to you too”

Naoya clicks his tongue, not pleased with the impenetrable intrusion. “Tch... Move, don’t butt in in family matters”

Satoru chuckles condescendingly, “I am family too now, you know? — Dear brother-in-law"

A jarring burst of inconsistent, unsettling laughter follows this declaration, each sound leaving Naoya’s lips grows more hectic and twisted, the tone wavering between low and high, and it sends a chill down your spine.

“Huh... sis... that true?”, the deranged madness in his voice dying down now, but he speaks with a timbre of sinisterness. His eyes wide, unblinking and staring right at you with piercing lunacy in them.

He had the same exact maniacal aura to him right now, just like years ago when he first confronted you about the secret escapades with Satoru.

Terrified, you hug your shoulders. Head turned the other way, trying to hide from the sharp daggers in his gaze.

You only manage a nod, and the sick sound from seconds ago echoes through the hallway once again.

“You—”, Naoya grits his teeth, trying to draw near you but the whitehaired man before him won’t budge. “How long have you been plotting this for, huh?”

Irritated at Gojo’s technique that leaves him unable to come any closer and wipe that mighty grin off his face, Naoya takes his frustration out on the wall by punching a hole right through it. “You fucking as—”

“Naoya”, your father’s voice approaching from behind him interrupts the commotion. “Go cool your head off”

“Tch...”, it’s not that he feels like complying, no. His arrogant self would never bow down to anyone, not even his own father, the clan head.

But walking away right now gave him a chance to pass by you — and he’d gladly take it, as there was something he wanted to confirm.

“Did you let him touch you, little lamb? Answer me — did you?”, he stops right behind you and whispers from over your shoulder.

You wince, his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. Noticing that Satoru’s hand is moving slightly up and getting ready to possibly attack your brother, you gesture at him to stop. Mouthing a silent it’s fine.

“Don't but in in husband-wife matters, our sex life is off-limits for you, brother”, you mutter over your shoulder.

“Pfft”, his eyes squint knowingly at you. “Good — I don’t smell foreign residuals on you. Good, little lamb. Good.”

“So, you two, huh?”, Naobito, sitting cross-legged on the floor in the tatami room, takes a sip of his sake and wipes the droplets drizzling from the corners of his mouth.

It was barely noon, yet your father, as per usual, had already started his drinking for the day, most likely during the early hours of the morning at that.

You hum, but the man beside you, your husband, had something more to say.

“What can I do, old man — your daughter’s a beauty, I had to go and take her. Pardon my rudeness, I forgot to ask for your approval first” — to which you basically facepalm yourself.

“If you had done that first, you wouldn’t be sitting here now, you arrogant brat”, Naobito drags out, the alcohol must be getting to him. “But the damage is done already, what can I say”, he adds through a hiccup.

“—or do, against me — Right, old man?”, Satoru shoots a proud grin, then on a more serious tone, he continues — “She’s mine now. And I don’t quite fancy it when people pry on what belongs to me. So, I ask of you to act accordingly from now on, or there will be consequences”

“You ask? Yet this sounds more like a threat to me”

“It could be, depends on you”

Silence.

The air in the room is intense and heavy after these exchanges. There’s a calm smile on both of your father’s and husband’s faces, yet the glare in their eyes is as cold as absolute zero.

“With that being said, glad we’re on the same page and thank you for the half-assed belated blessing~ I will take care of her from now on, don’t you worry”, your husband nonchalantly breaks the silence, then looks at you with a quick shake of his head towards the door. Meaning, our job here is done. Let’s go.

“You might go, I wish to speak to my daughter, alone”

Satoru glances at you, looking for consent in your eyes. You nod affirmatively, “Wait for me in the car”

Before walking out, Satoru gives one last warning. “Old man, if you try anything funny, I’ll make this place one with the ground beneath you”

“Make this place one with the ground?”, Naobito laughs uproariously. “You’ve gotten under his skin. Good.”

He gulps down another cup before proceeding, “He’s always got a soft spot for you. I’ve seen his eyes wander in search of you during clans’ gatherings, but this — this is beyond my expectations even”, he wheezes. “Good job. You’re finally doing something right and being useful to the clan”

“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for my own sake”, you grit your teeth.

“I don’t care for your purpose so long we sow the benefits of what you reap, just like I don’t care how you do it so long you take him down — poison him or slit his throat in his sleep, I couldn’t care less. Just make sure he’s dead by the end of it — it’s the only way to get that lousy freedom you’ve been babbling about all these years”

The terms were clear from the beginning, yet your stomach fills to the brim with guilt, threatening to spill out from your mouth the more your father speaks of it.

And he continues, “If you give him a child too in the meantime — even better. That way the Zenins can take over the Gojo Clan”, a greedy curve on his mouth wet with sake. “But in all honesty, what surprises me the most is you, actually — you’re more of a Zenin now than ever”, an unhinged laughter cracks his lips.

Your father’s words stab through your heart like a sharp knife. Snapping a few necks for the greater good for yourself, your freedom, shouldn’t be a problem after all you’ve been through.

But then, why does it feel like he is right? You are more of a Zenin now than ever. Why does it feel like the more you try to run away from the Zenins, the more you become one?

And why does your heart ache so much for the man you are to kill soon?

#ઈઉ — ai writes #series: entangled #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #[ ♡ ] — satoru

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