#(Not to mention how behind they all were on their taxes and how much they owed) (vs how much they were spending a month)

[reflectismo]

I’m sorry but the juxtaposition of their facial expressions is so funny lol apple was a mess. At least they looked good that day.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)

synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case

length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)

contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll

notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away

right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.

so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.

it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.

by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.

but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.

and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.

“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.

“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.

bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.

suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.

“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.

you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.

“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”

“i know.”

“you should be at school grounds.”

“i know.”

“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.

bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.

“where did you find these kids?”

“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”

again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.

“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”

“i told them they’d be safe here.”

they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.

maybe not right now.

you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.

your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.

you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”

they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.

right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.

“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”

great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.

“here.”

“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.

“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”

“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”

“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”

“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.

for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.

you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”

——————

nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.

he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.

you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.

the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?

“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”

“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”

“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”

“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”

“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”

“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”

“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.

being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.

you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.

haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.

suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.

there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.

but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.

but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.

“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”

something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.

something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.

“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”

“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”

“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.

“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”

“what changed?”

“everything.”

“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.

“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.

“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”

“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.

co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.

but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.

“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”

you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.

“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.

“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”

“for us…all?”

“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”

he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”

it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.

“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”

“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”

you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.

so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.

“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”

“but you did.”

“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”

“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”

“they need me,” he defends.

“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.

you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.

he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.

you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.

they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.

suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.

“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”

“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.

“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”

“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.

“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.

“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”

he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.

cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.

“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.

he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”

“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”

————— BONUS —————

“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”

“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.

“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”

“what—”

“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”

“that’s not—”

“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”

“he’s not even married—”

“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”

“gojo—”

“see ya!”

he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.

satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts

[4unnyr0se]

❥ being satoru gojo's sugar baby

warnings: rich asf gojo, reader is a bitch in the first part, fem! reader, lingerie, riding, cunnilingus, doggystyle, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, gojo hates stupid people, not proofread, reader gets so spoiled, spanking, asphyxiation

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 1.6k

Being Satoru fucking Gojo wasn’t easy. Being handsome, rich, and popular with the ladies? Talk about a workout. He had so much money he didn’t know what to do with it all. It’s only the result of being fucking brilliant at business practices, always knowing when to strike a perfect deal. And that bore the fruit of luxury cars, Italian jackets, and beautiful women aplenty. Gojo liked fucking the pretty girls he met in the clubs, sure. They were good for a decent cock-sucking, their expensive lipstick always forming a nice little ring around his dick. Poor things, it was probably the only nice lipstick they owned. Gojo felt bad for them in a way, they would never know what it was like to be spoiled by a man such as himself. They were so fucking fake, expecting to be spoiled just for having a decent pussy to fuck. Don’t get him wrong, Gojo liked fucking the college girls he met in the clubs, but he wanted something that was real. He wanted a good girl to spend his infinite cashflow on, not a whore who didn’t know what a fucking tax bracket was. 

He met you at his usual club, not recognizing your face from behind the bar. Hm, you must have been new there, Gojo would never ignore a pretty face like that, even though you were so grumpy looking. Did you hate your job like he hated bimbos? Gojo wasted no time in sitting himself down in your section of the bar counter, ordering a shot of the most expensive vodka the club offered. You called him an asshole and Gojo could have proposed right then and there. 

Gojo attended the club every night, sitting at the exact same spot and ordering a different, expensive drink each time. He noticed how you softly smiled when he told the local club bimbos to piss off, no doubt enjoying him shooing away drunken, stupid girls. Eventually you finally caved and gave him your number, resulting in him giving you a kiss on the back of your hand like a prince would.

Every day he would call you, text you, ask about your day. Did anyone give you trouble at the club? If it was a shitty coworker of yours, Gojo would have them fired. It didn’t matter if he didn’t own the club, he was half of the club’s monthly revenue. Gojo could do whatever the hell he wanted, he was practically paying everyone's salaries. His texts brightened your day, along with his visits to the club when you worked long evening shifts. He had stopped ordering drinks altogether, just slipping you a healthy $300 every hour or two. You had refused at first, but Gojo had this really annoying habit of being able to convince anyone of anything. It got to a point where you just held out your hand for the money at the start of every hour, which made his cock throb with desire. You were growing accustom to being spoiled and he fucking loved that. You were spoiled without being stupid, that was so fucking sexy to him.

One night, after a very annoying shift, you invited him to visit your crappy apartment downtown. Gojo jumped at the opportunity and practically threw you into his Bently, no doubt breaking a couple of traffic laws to make it to your place in record time. It was so humbling, your apartment. There were cracks in the fall and the faucet had the most annoying drip, this would absolutely not do. You deserved to live in a fucking castle in the sky, not in this shithole.

Gojo bought you a townhouse a stone's throw away from his penthouse. You protested and groaned at him not to, claiming you weren’t worth it. Gojo quickly shut you up with a passionate and longing kiss, whispering against your plush lips that he would buy you the moon and the stars. After that, you really couldn’t complain. Everything was paid off for the fifty-year lease that Gojo had signed; he was so disgustingly rich. Why did you have to go back to working at that sleazy club? Oh, right, you had to afford to eat and shop. Don’t worry; Gojo gave you a ridiculously large sum of money every week to buy whatever the hell you wanted, sending you more money if you run out. You only spend a couple of hundred dollars a week on groceries, but then there was this stunning vintage Dior dress in a shop window, and you simply had to have it. You sent Gojo a picture that displayed the price tag, and he swore he came in his pants. Fuck, you looked amazing wearing designer dresses. And you were modeling for him; he wanted to marry you so badly.

You bought lingerie one time, lacy and black, and so fucking expensive. Garters and stockings and the works, a gorgeous French design. Gojo just about lost his mind when he saw that photo you sent, driving over to your townhouse as soon as he had an opening. He tackled you in a passionate and longing kiss, ripping off the lingerie with his hands. Whatever, he’d buy you another set. No, twenty more sets.

His lips trailed across your body, leaving searing, hot kisses in their wake. You were covered in Gojo’s bites and bruises, looking like an ancient Greek sculpture. Gojo fucked you right on the floor of your living room, not bothering to carry you up the flight of stairs to your bed. You just looked so good in the lingerie you purchased with his money. His money, his lingerie, his sugar baby. Your sobbing pussy was squeezing his massive fucking cock, sucking him into you like a vortex. Your manicured fingernails left angry crescent-shaped prints on his back, his Italian jacket, and other expensive clothes long forgotten about in a pile next to the door. His cock slammed into you over and over again, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you were screaming his name, swearing you were gonna cum all over his cock. Gojo fucking loved hearing your moans; they sounded so expensive when his ringed fingers were wrapped around your throat, squeezing it ever so gently. He moaned into your ear as your orgasm washed over you once more, the third one in the hour. He still wasn’t finished, oh no. He had you folded into a mating press, begging and whining to be cummed in by one of the wealthiest men in the world. And who was he to deny his princess? Gojo shot himself deep inside of you, painting your womb with his seed. It looked so pretty seeping out of who; he just had to take a picture. You wouldn’t mind, right? He’d just give you another five grand for a few more dresses. 

Oh, even his aftercare was expensive. Running you a bath infused with freshly-pressed lavender and rose oil, soaking into your skin beautifully. Your fucked-out face was flush from the steam in the bathroom, making your already perfect skin so smooth. Gojo never wanted to stop touching you, not for a moment. He wrapped you in your Egyptian cotton sheets and held you tightly in his arms, thanking you for being his baby. As he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his precious baby’s ear, you drifted off.

After that perfect night, Gojo basically lived in your luxury townhouse. He would be there when you opened your eyes and when you closed them. There to take you out on romantic restaurant dates and feed you the highest quality sushi there was. He was there to buy half the fucking boutique if you wanted him to. Those dresses were too pretty for anyone else to wear besides you. You no longer protested when he bought you stuff, only kissing his chest while humming a thank you in his ear. The expensive lipstick you wore stained his cheek, not that he minded one bit.

Apart from the expensive gifts, dates, and other such things, Gojo loved fucking you. You modeled every single set of lingerie he wanted you to, especially black and blue sets. He loved your little fashion shows, the way you would always sit on his lap and grind down on his thigh, your arousal soaking the delicate fabrics. His hand would slap your ass, commanding you cum on his thigh and ruin your panties. He’d fuck you face down ass up with an expensive vibrator on your puffy clit, smirking sadistically as you sobbed that it was too much, you couldn’t take it. He’d make you ride him in his home office, making sure his video camera was always off during meetings so no one except for him could see that pretty ass bouncing up and down on his cock, milking it for all it was worth. He’d demand you sit on his face, not letting you off until he had his fill, your cum covering his mouth and face. Gojo would command you to lick it off him, hands squeezing your waist, and was adorned with a leather garter belt.

God, he wanted to breed you. He never wanted to use protection, which you objected to at first. But he whined and pleaded, claiming it would only be once. Well, once turned into always. He always came inside of you multiple times a day. He wouldn’t stop until he was sure that he had fucked his cum inside of your pussy, sticking a finger inside just to make sure it was still there. He would babble on about how you two would have the most perfect wedding and have such cute babies, how he would take care of you. You would be so pretty, all swollen with his child. 

Satoru Gojo took care of you from the moment the two of you met, your companionship being the most valuable asset he had. To him, you were the most precious thing, and he would take care of you until the day that he died.

[the-isekai-ninja]

»»--【Caught】--««

♔Pairing | Kakashi x Fem!Reader ♔Content | Breeding, Edging, Slight Humiliation, Oral (m+f!receiving), Body Worship, Overstimulation, Breeding, Masturbation, Cumplay, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Cervix Mention, Slight Dacryphilia, Deepthroating, Pet names (Kakashi calls you Princess), Kakashi and reader take turns being the dominant one. 99% Kakashi POV except a few scenes, reader is a powerful ninja and Kakashi uses that to fuel his fantasies, Use of “you” to describe reader, no Y/N mention, Kakashi has a big dick and you choke on it, not beta read, seriously this is insanely filthy and has very little plot/non-sex scenes ♔Word Count | 11k (sorry i was ovulating) ♔Synopsis| Kakashi decides to have some fun on his day off. You decide to have the worst timing in the world to visit him. Things go terribly wrong for him from there. And then go terribly right.

Kakashi was not a pure man. Everyone knew that, himself included. The blood he spilled and his cruel nicknames a reminder of that. But this current state of impurity he was partaking in was really taking the cake. 

Getting called a pervert for reading erotica fiction was one thing, but if people knew what he thought about behind closed doors he was pretty sure he'd be on the chopping block next to Jiraiya. 

He sighs as he releases his hardened cock from his hand. His thighs twitching from the pressure he had just built up. Everything in his body was thrumming with desperation to release but Kakashi had been practicing enough today to prevent himself the satisfaction of cumming from this particularly taxing masturbation session. If he counted, it would have been the fourth time he had teased himself out of an orgasm today and the high he was feeling was euphoric.

He couldn't help himself, especially with you away on a lengthy mission. Over the few years he had gotten to know you through his genin team you had managed to worm your way into his heart, and he would rather die than let you know that. However, his long term crush on you had bubbled inside his chest while you were away and early this morning after confirming he had nothing to do today he had started to imagine how you would be underneath him. Railing into your warm heat as you babble his name with tears stinging your eyes from the intense pleasure.

He would kiss the tears away as he pounds harshly into you, reaching impossibly deep inside your cunt, hitting all the right places to make you a mess for him. He wanted to fuck you full of his cum so badly, your legs resting on his shoulders as he folds you in half to make sure his seed takes. 

Kakashi's imagination drifts off to another fantasy to start himself up again, you sitting politely between his legs, panting like a dog in heat as you nuzzle against his inner thigh and paw at his cock. A pretty collar with your name bedazzled on it and his name engraved on the back. Just so everyone knew who you belonged to.

With the fantasy solidified in his head, Kakashi slowly slides his hands down his naked chest, teasing himself with gentle touches he would prefer to be giving you. His breath hitches slightly as one hand finally reaches his cock while the other rests comfortably on his inner thigh.

He moves slowly, up and down, smearing some of his pre-cum over his hyper sensitive cock to get himself slick enough for his next session. He imagines you rubbing your cheek against his dick, asking if you have permission to suck it for him. He takes the hand on his inner thigh and moves to cup his balls, teasing them as he fucks his other hand. 

He hadn't known how great edging would feel but the thought of releasing all of his built up spend into your waiting mouth is too much for him. He's positive this will be the last time today, he's about to explode from pleasure. He swears he'll have to find time to do this again, god it feels good.

A sudden knock on his front door halts all thoughts. The pleasure he was indulging in suddenly feels dirty as he’s astutely aware of himself lying in his bed, all clothes off as he strokes himself to near completion. He’s sweaty and over stimulated and now an uneasy feeling of guilt starts to sit uncomfortably in his lower gut. Who could possibly be here? Gai was gone with you on your mission and everyone else wouldn't dare bother him on his one day off. 

Unless….oh no.

He hurriedly puts on some clothes, sweatpants that do nothing to hide his throbbing erection and his mask and tank-top combo. He’s far too sensitive, the tight shirt rubbing against his chest a stark reminder of how horny he currently is. 

He hears the knocking again along with an all too familiar voice that definitely should not be in Konoha right now. 

He places his lower half behind the door and cracks it open very slightly to get a peak at his worst nightmare come true.

“Hey!”

No. 

“Hey, you're back early.”

Why are you back early?

You stand behind the door, hands closed behind your back as you rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. You’re still in uniform, compression shorts hugging your thighs and slightly riding up. It's unreasonably attractive with how horny he is and his cock twitches against his sweats. He shifts to try and stop his dick from rubbing against the fabric but it only makes the situation worse. You look up to meet him in the eyes and you are far too excited to see him.

Kakashi knows he's unlucky but this situation is a new level of unfortunate embarrassment. Jacking off to someone only to have them suddenly appear at his door? If you two were dating this would be an entirely different story but right now you're looking up at him with a bright smile, completely oblivious to the filthy thoughts he had just been conjuring up about you. He feels guilty. And incredibly horny. 

“Ya, the mission went off without a hitch, working with Gai and Yamato made things pretty easy. Those two are pretty talented when they aren't talking my ear off.”

Kakashi's eye twitches, just hearing Gai’s and Tenzo’s names come out of your mouth when he was so close to cumming makes some of his lust addled brain simmer a bit. The last thing he wants to do right now is picture those two with you. Alone. For an entire week. Probably sharing a bed, clothes thrown everywhere, cuddling for warmth…

He inhales loudly.

You tilt your head to the side as Kakashi remains silent, staring down at you with one eye. God you’re so cute…

“Kakashi, is everything okay? You look a little sweaty?” You take a step towards him to place a hand on his forehead but he flinches back. If you touch him at all he thinks he might explode. The last thing he needs is to cum in his pants in front of you. You might never speak to him again if he does. 

Kakashi knows he's sweating profusely and the way his pants rub against his cock is not helping his worsening situation. He has to make you leave as soon as possible so he can get rid of his problem for good. He was never edging himself this long again. 

Kakashi moves to close the door, “Sorry, I'm fine. I think I may just be a bit under the weather is all. You should g-”

You stick a foot between the door to stop him from closing it on you. “What? How did you get sick? Are you okay? Do you have food? Medicine? Is it from chakra exhaustion?”

Kakashi groans, the only sick he feels is love sick and he needs you gone so he can deal with it. He should have known you would be too concerned to let it go at that. You were too nice to him. His cock twitches. 

He pushes back on the door slightly, “I'm fine, really, I think I just need to sleep it off.” 

You pout at his insistence before pushing your way in. Kakashi is too horny to fully fight back so all he can do is muffle a moan as he shifts to hide his hard on.

“You're too hard on yourself Kakashi, it's okay to let others take care of you sometimes.”

What he wouldn't give for you to take care of him right now, but as he watches you make your way into his kitchen the last remnants of his sanity are screaming at him to get you out of his apartment. 

“Uhh, ya sure. If you insist on taking care of me I'm just going to…go to bed…”

Smooth one Hatake. He hears you hum in response and he makes a dash for his bedroom and slams the door shut. He tears away at his shirt and mask before shoving a hand down his pants to relieve some of the built up tension. He moans a little too loudly as his hand squeezes his dick and he prays you didn't hear it. 

He moves to his bed and ducks under the covers as quickly as possible. He grabs a tissue from the shelf above his bed and wraps it around the base of his cock as he strokes himself. He isn't sure how long he has until you enter his room but he needs to take care of this as fast as possible to save whatever little face he has left. He just prays you knock before you enter.

Tragically, the fear he has that you'll enter his room while he's jerking off, and his desperation to cum has the opposite effect and no matter how hot he feels or how tight the burning coil in his stomach gets he can't bring himself to find relief. He almost wants to cry from how embarrassing this entire thing is, he's a grown adult man who has killed people for goodness sake what is he doing?

He slows down his ministrations as he tries to come up with a solution. If he was a third party to this situation the answer would be obvious, but he's too horny and pent up to think straight and he needs whatever solution will work the fastest. 

He realizes he may just have to tough it out until you leave. At least with his excuse of being sick, his red face, sweat, and heavy breathing will make sense. If he stays under the covers he won't have to worry about hiding his raging erection either. 

Then he can hop in the shower and run it ice cold to cool himself off. Wait, the shower. Of course! You wouldn't dare to barge in on him while he's showering so surely-

There's a knock on his door. He groans loudly, the chance he had to make a dash for his bathroom long gone. You open the door slowly with a plate and bowl balanced in one hand. You glance down to the side and he watches your face flush. He mentally face palms as he realizes all of his clothes you saw him wearing are now thrown all over his bedroom floor. God he's so stupid when it comes to you. 

Trying to ignore the fact you now know he's stark naked under the covers, he shifts a knee up to hide any chance of his erection showing under his covers and he gives a slight wave as he balances the blanket above his nose. 

“Sorry, it was really hot so-”

You shake your head and let out a nervous laugh, “No-no it's okay! It's your home after all. Whatever makes you comfortable so you can feel better!” You give him an awkward smile that puts him on edge as you place the dishes on his desk. 

He wonders if you can smell his arousal with how close you are. He had been at it for hours before you showed up, surely the sweat, pre-cum and lotion he was using is permeating the air around you. He was never letting himself live this moment down.

Imagine, the Copy Ninja, Kakashi of the Sharingan; world renowned, revered as one of the strongest ninja in Konoha; one of the best strategists alive. And here he was. Completely nude in his own bed while his crush stares awkwardly between him and his food as his throbbing hard on bounces against his stomach and thigh. 

He feels himself getting dizzy from over stimulation and he needs you to leave fast. He lifts himself slightly off his bed to address you more properly. “Thank you for the food. You just got back and you're taking care of me. I don't deserve you-” He corrects himself. “Your kindness.”

He peaks up at you with one eye only to see you completely flushed red with your eyes wide open. Kakashi looks down quickly in fear that his blanket has revealed his true problem but no, the blanket fell down just to his stomach, the fabric bunching up enough to hide everything except his chest and-

Oh no. 

He had peeled off his mask in his lust induced daze, and you had never been privy to see his face. 

Was your reaction good? Kakashi had been told before that he was an attractive man, and the few times people had seen his face outside of friends only confirmed that fact. He wasn't stupid or humble enough to deny it. Did you find him attractive?

He chances looking up at you again to observe your reaction only to see you frozen in place. One hand slightly wavers as it points hesitantly towards his face. Your mouth is hung open, a strangled jumble of noises quietly emanating from it as your face becomes redder and redder. 

He needs to get you out and now here you are, turned to stone at the sight of his face. If he had known how strong your reaction would have been he'd have yanked it down in front of you ages ago. He can’t help but feel extremely flattered, this was certainly the best reaction surrounding his face he had received to date.

With you not moving and your face beet red, he decides to take a chance, “You like what you see?”

Your mouth snaps shut and you hum out in embarrassment. You turn away with your eyes shut, “I- god- I don't-”

He smirks at your stuttering, maybe he could turn this around. He didn't hope that by the end of this he'd be balls deep inside you but he might be able to steer it in that direction for the future.

Still staring away from him you manage to stutter out a reply, “I was curious why you always wore that mask, but now I know. It's so people will leave you alone. You're absolutely gorgeous Kakashi.”

Or maybe the porn he read rotted his brain enough to think he ever had a chance to be as smooth as the male leads in his books; your response stopps him dead in his tracks. He had been called a lot of things in his life but gorgeous was not one of them. It stirs something deep within him and it’s not just his cock begging for your attention.

He tries to salvage the situation back into his favour but ultimately fails when nothing but the words “fuck me fuck me fuck me” keep chanting over in his head. God I’m a loser.

You manage to recover enough to drag his desk chair over to his bed and place the two dishes on top of it for him to reach easily. It's a simple sandwich and a bowl of soup. You huff as he eyes the meal, “I didn't have a lot of time so the soup is a little bland but it should still help. I eat it myself when I'm sick so no judgment okay?”

You aren't able to look him in the eyes. He watches as you make repeated attempts to take a peak at his face, whether to memorize it or just out of pure shock he isn't sure but he hopes it’s the former. Maybe you think of him when you’re alone at night and this could fuel your own fantasies. He holds out hope that that’s the case. 

Kakashi carefully reaches over to ensure the blanket doesn’t move any further and grabs the sandwich. Maybe food will help calm him down enough until you leave. He goes to take a bite but he hears you gasp as soon as he opens his mouth. 

He pauses, mouth still wide open, and glances up at you. One hand is covering your mouth while the other is clenching itself at your side. He lowers the sandwich down just enough for you to see his full face, “Something wrong?”

You shake your head quickly, denying that anything is wrong. Your silence and your beet red face say otherwise. Kakashi is almost worried you’re holding your breath. 

He goes back to taking a bite only to hear you gasp again. 

“Sorry!” You squeak out. He glances at you, both hands now covering your mouth. “I just…your canines are so…pronounced! Sharp!”

Kakashi observes your reaction. A net positive, he thinks.

“Mah, they were a pain as a child. Used to bite myself by accident. Got them from my paternal side.”

You look bewildered at how easily he brings up such a private thing about himself. He tries to convey through his expression that he would tell you everything if it means you'd reciprocate his feelings. 

He finally manages to take a bite of the sandwich you prepared, acutely aware of your staring. He wants to melt into his bed. What had he done to deserve this. Admittedly he hadn't eaten in a while but that was because he had spent the better part of his day masturbating to thoughts of you. And now here you were forcing a sandwich and soup down his throat when he should have been shoving his throbbing cock down yours. Life was truly out to get him. Also he had to stop thinking about such crude things when you were barely a foot away from him. Maybe this was punishment. 

You stand there awkwardly as he eats, starting up conversation about what you had done on your mission with Gai and Tenzo. It had been a weird group at first but Jonin were in short supply. Kakashi himself having been on a mission when you were first assigned to go. That's what he liked about you. You were an insanely talented ninja, your skill in ninjutsu almost matching his own. Many times you had been assigned solo missions, not having enough support to back you up. You always came back fine though. 

Kakashi wonders what would have happened had he been assigned with you. The two of you had never been put on a mission together, your skills too closely matched to reasonably put you on the same team, needed more assisting others to make up the strength. Right now he reasons he needs you together more than ever. The sandwich isn’t helping like he hoped, and you being so close is making him want to toss it aside and pull you into bed with him. 

Surely you would reciprocate, let him fuck you into oblivion, let him spill as much cum as he could inside of your fertile womb-

Kakashi inhales again, he really can't focus on anything but sex right now. He had always preferred books to the company of others but now that you were in his life it seemed the only thing he could think about was you in between the pages instead. 

Maybe it was for the best you two had never been paired up, night one on a mission would have ended him right then and there. 

He swallows the last mouthful of sandwich and puts the rest of it down half eaten. “Thank you for the food, I'll leave the rest for later, my stomach isn't sitting well with me.” 

Understatement of the century, the bubbling of horniness and guilt in his stomach is making him want to vomit. Now to get you to leave. 

You smile back at him, taking the plates and chair and putting them back at the desk, “Sure, it sucks you got sick. I was actually coming to see if you wanted to hang out and catch up but since you're feeling under the weather we'll have to postpone. I'm heading back on another mission with Gai and Yamato tomorrow so-”

Again!? What do Gai and Tenzo have that I don't? 

“Huh? You know we can't team up Kakashi, you're needed elsewhere.”

Had he…said that out loud? God the pain in his crotch was getting to him.

“Ah. Sorry, it's just a shame we don't get put on missions together, we'd get so much done.” Kakashi smiles, doing his absolute best to save himself from his blunder. 

Judging by the look in your eyes you aren't buying it. You move closer and sit on the edge of his bed. Kakashi's cock bobs against the covers as the bed dips, causing him to groan at the friction. 

“Kakashi are you sure you're okay? You're sweating like crazy, your entire body is bright red, and your eye looks completely glazed over. Maybe we should take you to the hospital?” you suggest, hand slowly crawling to rub his leg in an attempt to soothe him. 

If you had reached only a few centimetres over all of this could be solved. Instead, Kakashi inhales sharply at the contact, moving it away from your caressing and closing in on himself in an attempt to fight off the rapidly approaching orgasm. 

You shoot up and over to him, a hand on his shoulder while the other goes to cup his cheek, trying to figure out what exactly is wrong with him. You blush as Kakashi nuzzles his face into your hand before both of his hands shot up to retrain your wrists and push you away from him. 

“Please…please don't touch me like that.” Kakashi breathes out, panting heavily as his edging finally rears it's head and reminds him of how close he truly is to cumming. 

You look at him, searching for any sign that would tell you why he was acting this way. You stand up and look around before you freeze, it appears something clicks in your head and he doesn’t want to know if you finally caught on. He just needs you to get out of here. 

“Oh.”

He peers up at you, your eyes fixated on something above his bed. He turns to look at what you’re staring at only to be mortified by the prepubescent like scene. Lotion and tissue paper lay haphazardly behind him, Make Out Paradise propped open to one of the more graphic chapters.

Kakashi prays to anyone that might hear him to come and kill him.

“Ah, Kakashi…. I'm uh. I'm -”

You’re blushing like crazy, hands flying between your face and playing with the zipper on your flak vest. Your eyes are wide as you stare at the lotion, mind running a mile a minute as you process the last few minutes. 

Kakashi knows there are only three reactions to a scene like this. One is absolute disgust, running away and cursing at him for being so gross. The second is you leaving as soon as possible, laughing it off and apologizing for interrupting, or three. You would get on your knees and suck him off right then and there. And considering you hadn't moved yet, maybe he could still swing to three. 

He hopes being honest and straightforward will catch you off guard and won't give you a chance to hide any surfacing feelings. 

He breaths out a defeated sigh, “I tried to push you away but…this is embarrassing. I just wasn't expecting anyone today.”

Your face is red and you breathing hitches. You’re biting your lip ever so slightly and you aren't hinting at any sign of leaving. You stare down at Kakashi with your eyebrows knit together, eyes glazed over and pupils blown wide open. Jackpot. 

“If you don't leave soon I'm going to take it as a sign you want an invitation you know,” Kakashi purrs, hooded eyes gazing up at you. He reaches a hand out to tentatively take yours. You let out a strangled cry as your knees begin to buckle. 

Kakashi moves and swings a leg out from under the blanket, now only covering his crotch and his other leg. 

In your eyes, he looked like a god, and you would happily fall to your knees to worship his altar. 

You gulp as you drink in the sight, thighs pressing together as confused arousal pools in your stomach.

Kakashi pulls you in closer to him, his free hand resting on your waist, “Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but I need you so badly.”

Your lips quiver, “Am I dreaming? I'm not still back on my mission having the craziest sex dream ever right now am I?” 

Kakashi chuckles and pulls your hand down further to bring you closer to his face, “I sure hope you aren't, or this would be very embarrassing for me.”

Your lips meet his then, gentle and far too chaste for his liking. You’re too hesitant still, unsure if this was actually happening. He’s glad you feel this way, it makes leading you to where he needs you so much easier. 

You place a hand down on his covered thigh and he groans, head falling down to calm himself. He breathes, “I'm going to be honest with you, any touch you leave on me might be my last. I am insanely pent up and am ready to explode at any moment. Whatever we're doing is going to need to be slow.”

Your pupils widen at the confession, all colour from your irises fading as desire and lust engulfs them. You fall to your knees dazed, your flak vest coming undone and thrown off to the side. His fantasy from earlier flashes through his head, the collar is missing but the hitai-ate around your neck will make do. He hooks a finger around the fabric and pulls it slowly towards him, forcing you to crawl until you're situated perfectly in between his legs. 

Kakashi brings a hand to caress your chin before stroking his thumb against your lips to open them. You comply with his silent request and roll your tongue out around the digit as your mouth widens. He presses his thumb against the muscle and you wrap your mouth around it and suck gently, a quiet moan vibrating from your throat. 

You reach a hand to meet his and slowly remove his thumb from your mouth, “You said you were pent up. How close are you?”

Kakashi almost came from you sucking his thumb off but he isn't about to tell you that. You don't seem to need a verbal answer though as you make your way to his crotch. Your teeth catching the fabric and tugging lightly to tease him. Your mouth meets his erection through the cloth and Kakashi lets out an embarrassingly loud moan and clenches his thighs around you in response. 

You decide to be merciful and drag the blanket away from his pelvis. His throbbing, leaking dick greets you as it springs from its flimsy confines and smacks Kakashi's stomach. Red and shiny and desperately crying for your mouth. You lick your lips as your hands push back at Kakashi's thighs to spread him farther apart. Kakashi can’t believe what a sight you make; his cock blocking part of your face, eyes glazed over and tongue hanging out as you stare hungrily at his erection. Like a panting dog. You press your face against the base of his cock and inhale before wrapping your tongue around the base and his balls, sucking at the sensitive flesh. 

Kakashi cries out at the contact, head thrown back as he struggles to hold himself up. God he had spent too long waiting for this. The pressure building up far too quickly in his crotch as you continue your assault. He reaches back to try and grab your hitai-ate again to pull you away but he should have been prepared for how cruel a woman you are as you resist it. In response, a hand comes to fondle his ball sack as another moves to stroke his shaft. Your head moves to kiss around his cock, inner thighs and crotch becoming covered with teasing licks and kisses. 

Kakashi feels like he’s going insane, heavy breathing and toes curling as you gave him every bit of your attention. He reaches into your hair and tugs slightly to try and let you know he's close. Luckily you seem to understand as you lower your head back down to his cock. You take in as much as you can but he's far bigger than you expected, with the girth to match. Tears sting your eyes as you try to take him, and what you aren't able to, you continue to stroke with your hands. 

You bob your head up and down slowly and allow your tongue to do most of the heavy lifting as his cock hits the back of your throat. You gag slightly but hold strong, you aren't about to let this moment be ruined by a weak gag reflex. Your tongue traces the veins along his shaft, licking and sucking as he twitches in your warm mouth. 

Kakashi accidentally bucks his hips up against you when you hit a particularly sensitive spot and a light slap to his ass and you pausing your work tells him not to do that again.

You resume quickly after, one hand pushing down against his thigh to hold him in place and rubbing circles into it as the other assists your mouth in stroking Kakashi's cock. 

His dick twitches harshly in your mouth and Kakashi let's out a strangled moan of your name as the only warning you get before his hands wrap into your hair and tugs you down to take as much of him as you can. His cock pulses against your tongue, once, twice, before it proceeds to shoot ropes of hot sticky cum directly down your throat. 

You close your eyes in an attempt to not choke, swallowing his seed down as quickly as you can. Kakashi's moans come out in strangled gasps as copious amount of his cum spills into your mouth. You're taken aback by how much he's cumming and some of his spend leaks out from your mouth as you struggle to swallow it all fast enough. 

You manage to break free of his grasp on your head and release his cock with a gasp as you continue to milk him with your hands. Ropes of the white substance shoot onto your face and down your shirt, coating you in Kakashi's warm cum. You open your mouth as it continues to shoot out and cover you, until he's reaching down and pulling your hand away, sensitivity in overload. 

He falls onto his back as the last remnants of cum spurt out from his cock and you move to lick it clean. He's groaning out in response, babbling your name and begging for you to stop with tears in his eyes. You lick a long stripe up his shaft to finish cleaning him off before you sit back and take in your work.

Kakashi is an absolute mess, his hands flying up to his face to wipe away some of the sweat and tears to compose himself.

He wants to move to see your face but his body feels like jelly after finally finding release. He really needs to pay you back. 

“You came a lot.” You muse, taking some of his spend and rubbing it between your thumb and finger before licking it into your mouth. 

He breathes out, “Where did you learn to do that.”

You tap his thigh, “Don't change the subject. Were you edging yourself the entire day before I showed up?”

He gulps, hands covering his face from shame. 

You crawl up between his legs, kissing his thighs and leaving a wet kiss along the tip of his over-sensitive cock before moving up and kissing up his happy trail and chest. He finally finds the strength to lift himself up slightly and takes in the sight of you, cum still covering your face and chest, some of it even in your hair. Fuck you look hot. He feels his cock twitch again. Perhaps he would be ready for part two sooner than he thought. 

He smears a strip of cum on your cheek into your pliant mouth. You hum around the digit as you swallow the sticky spend. You were going to be the death of him. 

He finally responds, “Perhaps. What's it to you.”

You lick your lips as a particularly large glob of cum falls from your hair and lands on his stomach. You move down and lick it up, swirling it on your tongue before swallowing it down. His cock springs to life at the obscene display. “Just want to know the best way to get this much for next time.” You coo, kissing his torso as you continue to pick up his seed and take it into your mouth.

He gulps, far too excited about the implication of a next time. You finish cleaning yourself up from his facial, a slight white stain on your otherwise clean sweater. He isn't sure if you'll be able to get it out by tomorrow, and the thought of Gai and Tenzo seeing his cum stain on your shirt arouses him far too much. The primal male urge to mark his territory swelling within him. Images of you with a swollen belly flash through his head and he can feel it hitting his libido like a ton of bricks.

“I'll give you as much off my cum as you please.” He mutters, hand caressing your cheek as you place kisses against his palm. 

You smirk and reach down to grasp his cock in your hands, stroking mindlessly as you kiss his chest. You trace his abs with your tongue as Kakashi bucks his hips into your hand, still barely calmed down from round one and overly sensitive. 

“Do you know how badly I've wanted to do this.” You murmur against his skin, “It's almost embarrassing how much I've thought about all the things I would do to you if you let me.”

Kakashi's eyes roll to the back of his head, he decides you're definitely trying to kill him, and if this is how he goes out it'll be a wonderful way to go. He just prays “Died From An Orgasm” isn't carved onto his gravestone. 

“You're so wonderful Kakashi, everything about you. If this really is some dream I'm having I really hope I don't wake up any time soon.”

Kakashi snorts, “I'm sure Gai and Tenzo would be thrilled to find you were having a sex dream about me.”

You stop your ministrations to grimace at him. “If you bring up their names again while your dick is in my hand I'll show you what real edging looks like Hatake.”

Kakashi gulps, the look in your eyes tell him you're serious. Where did you even come from? Heaven?

You continue working him up, your lips kissing what felt like every inch of his chest and pelvis as your hands stroke his weeping cock. He’s panting heavily and the coil in his gut is tightening again. He needs to turn this around if he doesn't want to pass out on you.

He pushes himself up further until he’s properly sitting, your face tucking into his neck, sucking love bites into the tender flesh. You’re relentless in your pursuit to make him cum again and he needs you to stop. Now that he knows you’re more than willing he needs to fuck you until you’re so sore you’ll have to call off the mission tomorrow. 

He reaches behind you to grasp your hitai-ate and yanks it back, this time with enough pressure around your neck to force you back with it. You pout at him in defiance when he lets go. 

“Y-your turn.” He struggles out. It's far less sexy than he would like but the grip you have on his cock is messing with his head so he does what he can.

You give a small laugh at his stuttering, “You sure you’re up for it big boy? You look like you’re about to pass out.” That sparks a fire in Kakashi. Getting caught in such a vulnerable state, coming completely undone by you, and now your teasing pushes the last remaining bit of masculine pride Kakashi has in overdrive and he lifts himself fully off the bed and twists you around until you're flat under him.

The shock in your expression surges him on as he glides a hand along your sides. You shiver slightly at his actions before he toys with the hem of your shirt. He take a glance up at you for permission and the intense blush and knitted eyebrows tells him all he needs to know.

He snakes his hand under your shirt and caresses your skin as he makes his way up your chest. He palms at your breast as his other hand rests against your lower back, thumb gliding across your side, causing goosebumps to form across your skin from the tickling sensation.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his hand slips under your bra to play with your pebbling nipple. He kisses your neck before straddling your waist. Both hands leave their spots to tug your sweater up and over your head. You moan at the loss of warmth, now colder in only your bra and shorts. A few silvery scars mark your body and Kakashi can’t help but run his hands over them, reminding him once again that you contained an immense amount of power in your veins and here you were, so pliant and pleading for him. It was so easy to forget that you were both machines made for war when you’re both vulnerable like this. It makes him feel insanely human. He feels a hand touch his cheek and barely hears your voice breathe out, “Come back to me.” He meets your eyes before quickly diving down to kiss between your breasts in apology. His hands snaking around your back to remove your bra. Your hands thread into his hair as he drags the bra away and takes a nipple in his mouth, a hand kneading the other roughly. Your moans urge him on as he gently bites at your breast, leaving a light red ring along it to mark you. His hand kneading your breast snakes down to your pants and he fingers the edges of it. You buck your hips against him as a warning but he ignores it.  He leaves feather light kisses along your breasts and carefully nips at your neck and shoulders before slowly sliding himself down.

Your breath is staggering, and your hands clasp against his upper arms in warning “Don't you dare…”

He chuckles against your skin, enjoying that you've caught on. He needs you to be as much of a crying mess as he almost was. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Kakashi murmurs against your stomach, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I first saw you years ago.” He licks a small strip over your stomach to distract you from the hand crawling into your shorts. “You’re strong and thoughtful, kind and smart. You’re absolutely perfect.” He continues, his free hand drawing circles into your hip. 

His hand slips under your panties and ghosts over your folds. Your legs twitch as he delicately traces over your heat. He pushes your shorts down just enough for him to suck and bite your lower hip, leaving a blossoming bruise in its wake for you to find later. Kakashi pushes his middle finger in and teases your entrance, collecting your wet arousal and spreading it throughout your cunt before it lands on your clit and rubs gentle circles against it. You moan at the contact and he shifts himself up to find a breast again, sucking and nipping at it while he toys with your clit. He adds his ring finger and teases it between the two fingers, the sensation of his hot breath sucking your nipple and his cold fingers against your cunt making you squirm in pleasure. Your hands fly down to try and push his hand away but his free hand collects your wrists and pulls them above your head, keeping you from being able to touch him further. 

He moves to capture your lips in a heated kiss, tongue fully dominating the inside of your mouth and exploring it freely while his fingers move away from your clit and circle your entrance. Your breathing comes out in short gasps as he kisses you, middle finger pushing its way past your entrance. His thumb takes over at rubbing your clit while his finger explores your pussy, feeling every wall and thoroughly paying attention to how you shift and moan at every spot he presses against.  Soon his ring finger joins in past your entrance. The two digits spreading apart occasionally like scissors as his fingers slowly drag in and out of your pussy, opening your hole up further to prep you. Your wetness slowly starts to drip out of you as Kakashi fucks you with his fingers, a white ring forming at the base of them. Your lungs are working overtime as Kakashi continues to massage the inside of your mouth with his tongue. Finally, he relents and releases you, only for you to cry out his name instead of catching your breath. “Shh, the neighbours will here you.” Kakashi presses a kiss to your burning red cheek, still pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt. You can barely form a sentence but with the way your nose scrunches up he can tell you want to retort. He’s a bit too pleased with himself knowing he’s finally turned the tables on you. 

You start thrashing your hips and he takes it as a sign to remove his fingers from your heat and makes a show of licking your arousal off his fingers. Your hands flinch in his wrists and he releases them, watching as they instantly fly to your face to hide your embarrassment. “You taste so good, need some of it straight from the source.” He coos, trailing down to finally peel your shorts off fully. You weakly lift your hips to assist and you sigh when you’re finally relieved of the remainder of your clothing. Kakashi rubs his hands along your ass and thighs, relishing in the sight of having you naked in his bed. You’re chest is rising harshly as you catch your breath, flushed completely from his ministrations. You look absolutely gorgeous.

Kakashi dives down in between your thighs, giving a few light kisses and bites to your inner thighs before quickly moving to your cunt and gathering some of your spilling arousal on his tongue. You yelp at the new sensation and try to squirm away, but Kakashi grabs your hips and keeps you in place, tongue lapping at your entrance while his nose brushes against your clit. He delves his tongue inside you, occasionally mouthing over your pussy to lap at your juices. He’s positive he could get drunk off of this, his cock throbbing as you sob out encouragements.

Your hands find his hair, lightly pulling on the strands to warn him you’re close. He licks one final strip up your pussy before pulling away, teasing you of any sort of release. He needs you to be as ready as possible so he doesn’t finish first. 

Kakashi hooks his arms around your legs and slides himself back up. He mimics what you did earlier and leaves a trail of kisses along your stomach and breasts while his hands caress your legs as he lifts them above your head and onto his shoulders.

You're sweating and flushed, while you've been bent practically in half for Kakashi to easily gain access to your cunt. His arms pin you in place as he presses his body against you, cock pressing flush against your entrance. He realizes then that he had forgotten to take your hitai-ate off. The reminder of who you two are the only article of clothing left between you.

It's such an indecent position. Two of Konoha's strongest shinobis engaged in such a filthy act, the world renowned Copy Ninja bending the strongest kunoichi of the leaf in a mating press like they're nothing more than livestock meant to breed. Maybe they are. The thought of you two ending up with a child makes Kakashi's mind swirl as his cock tip rubs up against your wet pussy.

Your belly would swell with his child and even if you denied him after, everyone would know it was his when the baby would come out with silver hair. His cock pulses at the thought, how many kids would you give him if he asked? One? Two? Five? His mind rushes through thoughts of you in a gorgeous wedding gown, a yukata of your own with his clan crest on it, little feet padding along the floors to welcome him home-

He looks in your eyes to steady himself, realization washing over him, “I don't have condoms.”

Your glazed over eyes seem to snap back to reality for half a second before you toss your head back in a half hearted chuckle, “I never thought taking birth control for my skin would come in handy like this.”

Kakashi's eyes widen slightly at the confession, he has truly hit the jackpot, “Are you sure? I just don't want us having to worry about any consequences later on.”

You rub his arms in an attempt to soothe him. “It'd be a little too late for that anyways with that leaking cock pressing against me already. You're fine Kakashi, just come in me.” Your voice cracks with want, “Please. Use me as you please, stop making me wait.”

You buck your hips slightly to rub against him to prove a point and it tosses him right back into the mood. He leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss before he's using one of his hands to glide his cock against your warm cunt to lube himself with your slick. 

You moan into his mouth as his cock head repeatedly hits your clit. Kakashi takes this moment to plunge his tongue into your mouth again, your own tongue weakly battling his in a desperate attempt to fight back with what little self control you have left. 

He's soon slick enough and he moves away from your glossy lips, a string of saliva connecting you two as he purposefully stares into your eyes. You swallow hard under Kakashi's intense gaze as he moves to slide his dick inside of you. He teases your folds a few times before he makes his way past your entrance, his large cock stretching you open. The stretch shoots an intense heat through your body and you loudly moan out Kakashi's name in response as you toss your head back.

Kakashi pauses and moves his hand to grab your chin, he pulls you back gently and pecks your lips, “Eyes on me, Princess.”

You whine at the pet name as you try to focus back on Kakashi. He slowly pushes further inside and your eyes water from how full he makes you feel. Your hands fly between his arms and his back in an attempt to ground yourself from the sensation. 

Tears roll down your face at the pleasant sting of Kakashi's large cock stretching you wide and he bends down to kiss your tears. “You alright?” He murmurs against your cheek.

You nod, not trusting your voice. 

“Good.” He kisses you one final time before he pushes further in, he groans at the feeling of your tight walls pushing down on his already over sensitive cock. He knows he has to go extremely slowly if he wants to last long enough to have you come first, but in the back of his head he decides if he can at least get you to come at the same time as him it'll be a victory. 

He pulls back slowly, he really is too big and he worries if this is too much for you, but as if you can read his thoughts you breathe out his name, and he can practically feel the lust emanating from it. 

You dig your nails into his flesh, crescent moons forming along his arm and back. Only his cock head remains inside you now, and your entrance squeezes him enough for him to toss his head back as he groans at your tight heat. 

He composes himself, every last bit of sanity focused on not cumming first, “Are you ready?”

You cry out, “Please Kakashi!”

With your permission he slams into you at full speed. The intense rush causing you to gasp, and for Kakashi to bend over and brush his forehead against yours. He thrusts into you sharply, every angry vein along his cock brushing your walls deliciously as the tension builds up in his gut embarrassingly quickly. 

You're babbling praises to him but he can barely hear as he focuses on fucking you properly and not cumming. He needs you to know only he can make you feel like this and words would never be enough. Now that he has you, he wants to make sure you’ll stay and what better way to prove that than to show you how good he can make you feel. 

His balls slap against your ass as he thrusts inside you, his cock reaching impossibly deep and hitting your cervix in a mix of pain and pleasure you had never experienced before.

You claw at his back as you ride out the pain, gasps and moans spilling from your mouth as you beg him to go faster. “Please K-Kakashi, come inside me, please!” You beg, eyes rolling back and mouth unable to close. He wonders if you had been thinking about getting bred properly too, “Would you like that?” He takes a chance, “Fill you full of my cum, knock you up?” Your pussy squeezes his cock at the suggestion, confirming his question. He presses a kiss against the shell of your ear, “Better hope that birth control sticks, bet you would look so good with my child inside of you Princess. I’d take good care of you and our baby. I’d give you whatever you asked for.” You claw at his back in response, red lines dragging against his skin as you take in his dirty talk. “P-please Kakashi, I’ll give you as many as you want. M-make me a mom! Please! I’ll be good for you, please fill me full! Give me your baby Kakashi.” you sob out in response. Kakashi’s thrusts increase at your begging, god how had he gotten so lucky with you. Such an elite shinobi crying under him, begging him for his seed to take inside your womb as he pounds into you? You could have anyone you want in Konoha, strong ninja being far more popular than others for their potential to pass down their strength. And here you are, letting Kakashi get his dick wet in your cunt instead of choosing someone with far more likeability. He knows he’s insufferable at times and he never lets anyone know how he’s truly feeling, but maybe if it’s you he could be more honest.

He lifts his feet onto his toes and leans in to press further into you, cock slamming into your wet cunt and the sounds of skin slapping against skin permeating the air. 

Both of you are tearing up from pleasure and Kakashi is positive he’s about to burst. He shoves a hand between your bodies and presses his thumb against your clit. He rubs it intensely, swirling the nerve feverishly to get you to come before him. You seize up against him, body tightening around his as the coil in your stomach starts to tighten. “I’m close…”you breathe out, barely a whisper Kakashi almost misses.

His thighs are burning from the position he’s in and his cock is throbbing painfully inside of you as he thrusts in and out of your pussy harshly. Your high pitched mewls are urging him on and he knows he isn’t going to last.

He’ll make it up to you, eat you out until you’ve cum on his tongue enough times that you forget how to count. His cock twitches and the coil finally snaps as he cums for the second time that day. Hot ropes of cum flood into your wrecked pussy and it sends you barrelling into your own orgasm. You cry out as Kakashi continues to paint your insides white, both of you riding out your highs, breaths mixed together. Kakashi moves to swallow your gasps, the shift causing both of you to let out high pitched moans. Kakashi is embarrassed at the sound that comes from his throat but you don’t seem to notice, eyes closed shut as your mouth moves against his while your cunt milks him of every drop of cum he can give. 

It proves to be a lot, and the sticky cum starts to flood out from your pussy past his cock. He can barely move and he really doesn’t want to. The idea of any of his cum escaping you before it can take makes him hesitant but he quickly remembers he shouldn’t be daydreaming about breeding you senseless and starts to slide out of your spent cunt. 

You whine in protest and clutch at his back to try and hold him in place but he chuckles and presses a wet kiss to your cheek, “Sorry Princess, we can’t stay locked like this all day.” “Why not,” you whine. You finally open your eyes to meet his and his heart almost gives out. They’re shiny from your tears and mixed with your deep blush you look like a painting. He wants to scoop you up and take you again right then and there but he’s already cum twice today and he’s pretty sure if he tries a third time there won’t be anything left of his dick. 

He pulls your legs down from their position against his shoulders, rubbing your thighs and kissing them in case they burned like his did. You moan again at the gesture and he’s sure you’re sore.  He watches some of his cum leak out of you and he scoops it up before it can hit his sheets and shoves it back inside of you. You cry at his actions and a sharp pain shoots through his groin and he stops, he shouldn't work himself up again so soon, it was starting to get painful. Instead he watches his cum pool out of your pussy, staining his sheets as it collects under your ass.

“Let me get something to clean you up.”

You grab at him weakly to pull him back into you, “Ugh you read too many romance books, I don't need to be cleaned up right away, you already came in me and its already all over your sheets. I need affection right now.”

He chuckles and pushes past your grabby hands, scooping you into his arms and leaning his body against yours, “Sorry, I'm still new at this.”

You would have rocketed out of bed at the confession had you not been sandwiched between Kakashi and the bed, “What? I refuse to believe this was your first time.”

Kakashi presses a few kisses to your face, unable to contain himself from how cute your expression is, “No, but it's been quite a number of years, and even then they weren't the most fulfilling experiences.”

You scrunch your face as he continues to pepper your face with feather light kisses, “So all of that was just….from Icha Icha?”

Kakashi hums out a yes as he moves to kiss your neck. He's going to take full advantage of your demand for affection, it means you wanted him more than a one night stand and he plans to give you everything.

“You can't just drop that on me, post mind-blowing orgasm. You mean I have to thank Jiraiya for how you are in bed?”

Kakashi pauses and looks up at you. It appears you and him were on two completely different wave lengths. 

“Uh, if that's what you want?”

You press a thumb against his forehead to smooth the wrinkles that form in his confusion, “It was a joke baby, I'm trying to compliment you.”

The pet name goes straight through Kakashi into his dick. Down boy. He settles for stuffing his face in your neck.

You run your hands through his admittedly sweaty hair and laugh at his pouting. 

“I liked that high pitch moan you let out back there,” so you did hear him, “I didn’t know you could make a sound like that.” He huffs into your neck and flips you over so you're now on top of him, arms wrapping around your lower back to keep you pressed against him, “Don’t go telling anyone I did that, that's only for your ears Princess.”

You lift yourself up and keep a hand on his chest, “That’s another thing. Where on earth did you get that nickname, it makes me crazy.”

He looks at you with wide eyes, “Do you not like it? I just thought-” “No!” You huff, lightly tapping his chest, “Crazy in a good way! I wanted to jump you so badly when you first said it, it’s dangerous!” Kakashi lets out a hearty laugh he didn’t know he had in him that takes you off guard. Before you can respond he’s pulling you back against him. You pout against his chest before giving a light laugh.  He kisses the top of your head, “I’m sorry by the way.” You look up at him with a worried expression on your face, “Sorry for what?” He kisses your forehead, “Sorry I didn’t ask you out first. Kind of a horrible first date to have you make me a sandwich then fuck you in my bed.” You guffaw at his words, “Kakashi! Don’t- God why would you say that!” He smiles, and moves to massage the back of your neck, “Sorry, sorry. But when you come back from your mission, will you allow me to take you out properly? I have hundreds of date ideas and not all of them end up with you in my bed, promise.” You quirk an eye at him, “Do some of them end up with you in my bed?” “Maybe. Wouldn’t you like to find out though?” He glances down at you with hooded eyes and a smirk. You narrow your eyes at his playful banter, “I think I liked you better when you 3 hours into an edging session, you were much more compliant.” Kakashi barks out another laugh, you make it easy for him to do that it seems, “Mahh, you’ll get used to it. With that tongue of yours though I’m sure you could get me to bend over backwards for you. I still want to know where you learned to do that.”

You bury your face into his chest to hide your reddening face, “And I want to know how you discovered you had a breeding kink. Some things are better left a mystery don’t you think?” you retort.

Kakashi flushes, you’re 100% right. He isn’t ready to admit just yet that he discovered it after watching you interact with his genin about three years ago. That night had been a very shameful masturbation session.

“Fair enough.” You nuzzle your face against him but feel something poke into your neck. Your reach up to find your long forgotten hitai-ate still wrapped around you. “Oh my god we didn’t take this off?” Kakashi hooks a finger into the fabric, lifting an eyebrow, “You think it’ll tell everyone what it saw today?”

You smack his chest and bury your face into the crook of his neck, “You’re insufferable.” He buries his nose in your hair as he chuckles, “So is that a yes to the date?”

He can just make out a quiet yes muttered against his throat. He squeezes you tightly in response, placing a lingering kiss to to the top of your head.

“Ugh okay we need to get cleaned up the cum is drying and it’s making my legs uncomfortably sticky.” You shoot up and start to climb over Kakashi. He snorts and lightly smacks your ass as you pass over him. You yelp and shoot him a glare as you make your way towards his bathroom.

He starts to get up too, but he slowly realizes he’s been laying down for a good majority of the day and his tight muscles remind him now that he’s come down fully from his high. He trips over himself and quickly looks to see if you saw it. Your voice calls out from the bathroom, “Have a nice fall?” You were turning into a threat to his usual persona. He stumbles into the bathroom and wraps his arms around your torso as you wipe yourself down. He wants to suggest a shower but he knows himself too well and decides better of it lest he has to start expending chakra to keep himself awake enough for a third round. That would not be a fun trip to the hospital. You turn yourself around and wipe his face with a new cloth, he holds you close and hums as you gently clean him up too. He really should be the one doing this but he’s slowly realizing he likes being taken care of as much as he likes to take care of people so he lets you continue.

Soon enough he’s dragging you back into bed and planting more kisses across your skin. Late into the night he whispers promises of what you two will do when you come back from your mission. 

As you doze off in his arms the only thing Kakashi can think of is how he really should do this more often. 

-------------------------------------------

“I’M SO LATE.”

“I’m starting to rub off on you in more ways than one.” You throw a pillow at Kakashi’s head which he lets smack him in the face. He deserves it frankly. He watches you race around his room to gather your clothes in your attempt to still make it to your rendezvous point on time. He figures if you left now you would still be 5 minutes late, and the white stain on your shirt would be even more of a question for Gai and Tenzo. He gets up out of bed after what feels like an eternity after lounging in it all of yesterday and grabs one of his clean shirts from his dresser. He tosses it at you as you just discover the lewd stain on what would have been your only shirt. “It’ll be a little big, but it’s better than having those two poke their noses into your business.” he comments, grabbing your soiled shirt from your hands, “I’ll wash this one for you so it’s clean when you come back.” You give him a heartfelt stare, “Thank you Kakashi, I’d say I owe you one but it’s your fault it’s stained to begin with so we’ll just call it even.” He smiles and kisses your forehead, “You should go now, you might get there with enough time for them not to question anything if you run.” Your eyes widen and you dash out the door as you wrap your flak vest around yourself, shouting as leave, “I’ll see you when I come back! I’m expecting a fancy date you know!”

Kakashi gives a halfhearted wave, knowing fully well he’ll have to plan something grand for you. Maybe a bouquet of your favorite flower? A giant plushie? Chocolates? A fancy candlelit dinner? Jewellery? He muses at his options as he thumbs at the stained shirt you left behind. Ah, and definitely more of this.

He tosses the shirt into his bathroom to be picked up and washed later, he hums as he heads for the kitchen for breakfast and decides that he should just give you every option when you return. That’s really the only way he can show you how much he adores you after all.

------------------------------------------- “Did you sleep in by accident?” Yamato teases after you finally meet up with them. You had shown up 10 minutes late, out of breath and a little dishevelled but you're positive nothing else is out of place.

“Is that Kakashi’s shirt?” Gai asks.

You freeze. “No?”

Gai squints his eyes as he brings a hand up to his chin, “I could have sworn that looks like his shirt.”

Yamato leans in to get a good look at it, “It is a little big on you, your normal shirts fit you pretty decently, but this one goes down past your hips and bunches at your wrists.

You push him away, “Don’t look at my hips. It’s just a bigger shirt size than normal, I was so tired when we got home yesterday I didn’t do any laundry so I only had this one to wear.”

You hear sniffing beside you. You turn to see Gai far too close to your face, “It smells like Kakashi too.”

You smack Gai across his face as an intense blush blazes across yours, “Don’t sniff me you creep! Can we just get a move on, we don’t have all day!”

You rush away from both of them, mortified of the development. You realize in agony as you make your way past the village gates that if you had just worn the stained shirt the pair wouldn’t have even seen the stain as it would have been covered by your vest. Kakashi was going to pay when you got back.

[crownremonique]

I Need Your Help

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: When you find yourself in danger walking late at night, You think it's best to give Tim a call rather than trying to deal with it yourself.

Warnings: Mentions of attacking with weapon, Fluff, crying, comfort, (Tim being a huge softie)

Word count: 1.2k+ words

Bright rays of sunshine slipped through the gap in the curtains, illuminating the room in soft hues of orange. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, trying to turn but stopping when you realised you couldn't. The weight of Tim's arm kept you pinned down to the mattress, his soft little snores vibrating on your skin. You craned your neck, just enough for his face to come into view. 

You always loved seeing Tim sleep peacefully, although it was becoming more rare. His job was taxing, draining him by the end of the day, and it filled you with happiness beyond words to see him relax by your side. The harsh furrow between his brows had disappeared, his face devoid of any signs of stress. 

“I can feel your eyes on me, honey” Tim spoke, his eyes still shut. 

“How long have you been awake?” You questioned, clearly being caught off guard. Tim's face broke into a smile as he opened his eyes, pulling you closer. 

“I just wish I didn't have to leave you so soon..” Tim spoke into your hair, drawing little patterns on your forearm. You hummed in agreement, inching closer. Eventually, Tim pulled himself away from you and started getting ready for the day, asking you your own plans. 

“I have some books I gotta return to the library, It’s the last day and I am NOT paying any late fees.” You concluded. Tim chuckled and kissed the top of your head. 

“Need me to drop you there? I can come pick you up on my break” He offered, with a gentle smile. 

“No need, I'll walk. I have to pick up some milk from the grocery store too.” You said. Tim shrugged one of his shoulders with a look that said “Whatever you say” and left the house, with a quick reminder for you to be careful. 

You also decided to get up and get started with some breakfast and then go out for the errands you had planned. What you didn't know was that you would come across a brownie cookie recipe on Pinterest, spend more than a few hours getting them perfect, and then surprise Tim with them at the station. 

When the realisation of how your time had flown by finally settled in, the thought of the unreturned books struck your mind. It was already well past eight, and you would be able to get to the library and back by ten if you hurried up. You briefly thought about Tim’s offer, but shut the idea down, not wanting to disturb him again after you already wasted plenty of his time dropping off your cookies. 

Pulling a jacket around your shoulders, you set out to the library. You were thankful that you got there soon, not wanting to carry the heavy books any longer. Dropping them off with the librarian, you made your way down the dark street, deciding if the milk could wait till tomorrow. 

Seeing the shortcut back through a narrow alley, you decided to take it, wanting to get out of the chilly night as soon as you could. You had taken that very shortcut lots of times, but always when it was light out. You were already halfway into the alley when you heard something shuffle behind you.

You turned around swiftly, planting your feet into the ground to steady yourself. 

You weren't stupid, you knew what was happening as soon as a man stepped out from behind the trash can, weapon in hand. Calming your breathing, you called out to the man. 

“I may not look like much, but I sure as hell can take you out” You said, making sure to raise your voice to get someone's attention in case things got out of hand. The man rushed forward, taking your words as an open challenge. He swung at your side with his knife, grunting when you seemingly dodged his attack with ease. All the time Tim spent teaching you self-defense really did come in handy after all. You managed to kick the man in his groin, stepping away when he doubled over in pain. 

You decided pretty quickly to run when you saw more people emerging from the shadows. You took off down the alley, as you heard the rest of the thugs follow behind. Your heart pounded in your ears, fear flowing through your veins. You definitely wouldn't be able to defend yourself alone from that many people, and the nearest public place was more than a mile away. Your last option? Call Tim. 

You ducked into one of the diversions of the road, and crouched down behind one of the storage units. Pulling out your phone and quickly dialling your boyfriend's number, you prayed that he would pick up. The phone had to ring only a few times before his voice came through. 

“Hello?” 

“I need your help. I'm being chased and cornered by some thugs. 822 E, 20th street” You cut him off, your voice trembling with fear. You heard the line go silent as he processed the information. 

“I'm on my way.” He said curtly, hanging up the phone. Tim rushed to the parking lot, shoving people out of the way. He barked at Lucy to get in the shop, ordering an entire team of cops to follow him. 

“Geez, what's gotten into him?” Nolan asked, staring at Tim's sudden change in behaviour. Nyla shrugged dismissively.

 “No idea, but with that enthusiasm, I can only assume he's going to come back with the greatest criminal in the history of LAPD.” 

You crouched on the floor, pulling your legs closer to you and hoping that Tim would get to you before the thugs did. The time you spent waiting for the cops was agonising, each moment stretching on for what seemed like forever, filled with anticipation of your fate. Your ears were just starting to ring from the silence when you heard the shuffling of footsteps a few metres from where you were hiding.

Your body had started shivering with terror as you tried to calm your breathing. Clasping a hand over your mouth, you tried not to let your shallow whimpers be heard. You jumped when the storage unit hiding you was ripped away, the man smirking and looking down at your trembling form.

“There you are..” the man taunted, grabbing you by your hair. You cried out in pain, as he tugged harder. He pulled you up to meet his eye, but dropped you immediately as a dozen flashlights pointed at you both, blinding him temporarily. 

“LAPD, Drop the weapon! Hands where we can see them, interlock them behind your head and get on your knees.” You heard Tim call out. Relief washed over you, the sight of Tim flooding you with a sense of safety. He kept his gun high and side stepped over to where you were crouched down. You fell into his embrace as you saw Lucy handcuff the man on the hood of their car. 

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? I swear to god if he laid a finger on you I'm gonna-” You cut him off with a searing kiss, his shoulders relaxing as he felt you, safe in his arms. 

“I'm fine, don't worry about me..” You mumbled against his lips, running your hand through his hair. He buried his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as he loosened his grip on your waist. “With you up my alley, I’ll be just fine.” You continued, your eyes welling up again as thoughts of what could have happened flooded your head.

“I am never letting you go anywhere alone again.” Tim declared, searching your eyes for any sign of objection. He never did find any.

✨️

[bloodiedrogue]

THE ROGUE TAX (2)

SUMMARY: Fed up with paying Astarion to pick all the locks, you force yourself to learn the hard way.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader (reads as Gender Neutral but future chapters will be femme focused, just a heads up!)

WORD COUNT: 2,635

WARNINGS: Short nightmare sequence, too much sexual tension, slight mentions of a handkink, inappropriate lock pick teaching.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I'm posting these super early but day two of the Haunted Hoedown! This time the prompt is "finders keepers!" I honestly had so much fun with this one, so hopefully all the new Astarion fans that've followed me in the last day enjoy? Love you guys. :))))

Also I was originally going to make all of these challenge fics separate but I've since decided to make it more of a connected fic so... that's a thing now? I'll link the last chapter below!

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

“I wasn’t aware you were so proficient at lock picking.” 

You smirk at Astarion’s false praise, busying your hands against the lock’s mechanism. You’ve only been at it for five or six, maybe seven tops but you can already tell it’ll be a while. The lock itself is tough; covered in a layer of thick rust. Plus, being that it’s a chest and not a door, it’s a bit more advanced than you’re used to.

“Yes, well, not all of us are vampires that can woo their way through a padlock.” 

In response, Astarion laughs, throwing his head back so dramatically that from the corner of your eye, it looks as if he’s lost his head for a moment. “You do realize who you’re talking to, correct?”

You hum out a response and push the short hook further in, feeling the pressure of a loose pin hit the end. When that happens, you grin to yourself and slide closer to the chest, biting your bottom lip in excitement. 

Over the last few weeks, you and the rest of the group had come upon some interesting findings. A cave inside a well, a few hidden cellars around the surrounding the goblin camp, a hidden chest or two. At first, it was exciting, getting to experience the joys of a good treasure hunt but quickly such feelings fell once you discovered how difficult it was to break into said things without the help of Astarion and his seemingly magic hands.

“I know you’re excited to prove yourself, darling, but why don’t you let me finish things off, hm? It’ll go a lot quicker.” 

You shake your head and continue your ministrations, carefully pushing the hook further in, feeling that alleviated pressure of another pin. “I’m tired of relying on you and your bloody rogue tax.” 

After agreeing that Astarion would just pick every lock your party found for a price, it was evident he was more than willing to take more than he was owed. Saying things like I did all the work or you wouldn’t be here if not for me, it was obvious he was exploiting you. Using his roguish charms to earn himself a bigger cut despite doing next to nothing else. 

It was frustrating, to say the least. Another minor annoyance to add to his long list of negative personality traits, and lately you were determined to combat it. To learn the trade for yourself so that every piece of treasure found could remain solely yours. 

“I’m sure everyone is but that’s the price you pay for a professional.” 

You roll your eyes and continue to fiddle, feeling his gaze glued to the positioning of your hands —how your fingers tighten and twist around the metal instrument. 

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you at least a little bit nervous —having his eyes on you. Across your palms, you can feel the slick of sweat collecting with each new movement, while behind you, you can practically feel Astarion’s judgement throughout, silently picking apart all of your mistakes. 

“You’re doing—“

You shush him angrily before he can continue, knowing he’s trying to break your concentration. Knowing that he thinks that if he can prove to be enough of a distraction you’ll end up slipping up and giving in. 

“I was just going to tell you about the wonderful job you’re doing.” His tone is laced with sarcasm. Drenched in a thick layer of impatience that has you groaning under your breath. 

“Isn’t there someone else you can bother?”

“No.”

You know there is. In the other room of the abandoned building you currently find yourselves in, at least four other people are rooting through the rubble. Most likely they’re stationed in their usual areas. Gale’s probably next to the stack of bookshelves with Karlach, telling her all about his collection back at the camp while Wyll and Shadowheart are searching through the cellar in hopes of more wine. 

“You sure?”

For a moment you debate telling him to go keep watch with Lae’zel just so that he’ll shut up but the thought dissipates once you feel him flop onto the floor beside you with a groan. 

“Everyone else is so dull,” he complains. His line of slight flickers between your face and hands, watching the way they remain almost too still as he speaks. “They’re all do this do that, and for what?”

You shrug your shoulders ever so slightly, unsure of what he means.

“They’re all living for other people, darling. Other causes. Everything they do serves a higher purpose and for that reason alone, they’re boring.”

Despite your previous determination your hands release themselves from the padlock before you find yourself readjusting —moving to plop down next to him. “You think everyone’s boring because they’re selfless?”

“Predictable,” he corrects, pointing a loose finger in your direction. “All of them talk too much about a future that may not even come considering we’re infected and have little idea on how to remedy the situation.” 

You’re not sure where this rant is coming from but you welcome it considering it’s been weeks since you’ve had a normal conversation that didn’t revolve around mapping or looting or combat. Weeks since you’ve taken a moment to learn about the people you find yourself in constant contact with. 

“Some people just don’t like looking back.” 

There’s a hint of surprise in his eyes when you respond as if he wasn’t expecting such an answer. Or really, maybe an answer at all. All at once his face seems to rise in thought, taking a moment to absorb the words before he hums in response, pursing his lips. “Yes, well, I suppose some people don’t have a past worth running from.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

The tadpole behind your eye wriggles for his attention before you can even think to suppress it. Working to pull him in as you stare at one another, narrowing your eyes at the sudden cerebral contact. At first, he’s reluctant. You can feel the pushing sensation suggesting that you stop. That you should stick to the confines of your own mind rather than pestering him, but quicker than you can move away to agree, it’s as if you’re sucked back in again. Pulled by the very thread of your own brain matter to see flashes of a life you assume to be his.

The first thing you see is candlelight. A flickering of warm hues that dance across wooden interiors. It’s almost dizzying the way the light shifts across your vision, forcing you to close your eyes. Next to you, you can hear Astarion breathing heavily. Deep inhales followed by even deeper exhales that you swiftly use as a metronome to carry your focus. To aid your tadpole’s connection. 

Swallowing hard, you listen to the beats of his breath, feeling them take over your chest as the vision in front of you grows to reveal bits of cobblestone. In the background, you can hear the faint sounds of scuttling feet. The dripping of water. A hungry growl followed by an even hungrier gnaw of flesh that squelches on your tongue. 

You can taste the iron —feel the fur and bones of an unknown animal brush against your lips and gums. All of it swirls around your mouth like a tornado of overstimulating sensations, forcing the vision to pass as you reach for your throat, coughing up nothing but your own spit despite how real it feels. 

It’s apparent then what Astarion means. That some people aren’t always blessed with the privilege of running away. That people like him don’t have the means of calling upon allies to aid them through the awful shit that is reality. 

Even with such little context, you can sense through his tadpole that he’s alone in this life. Alone before the Illithid —alone now. And more than likely, he’ll be alone after it’s all over, in death or otherwise. 

Rubbing your throat —trying your best to get rid of the tainted feeling of skin and bone from your mouth, you feel empathy rather than sympathy. An understanding of his words as you look toward him, noticing the far-off look in his eye before he blinks and travels back.

“I only showed you that to save the explanation,” he says, and whether or not it’s true you merely just nod, welcoming the silence. The tranquil hush of two people attempting to navigate the other. 

It doesn’t last long. In between, there are a few moments of background noise. The sound of echoing footsteps and muffled voices. You know it’s the others looting just as you should be, but neither of you moves to join until Astarion eventually clears his throat, signalling change. 

“Anyway, they’re all in their own worlds, coasting on the wings of optimism.” He flicks his hand around the air while rolling his eyes. “It’s disgusting and partly why I choose your company above theirs.” 

Letting yourself fall back into your usual, somewhat antagonistic rhythm, you give him a curious look. “Partly, huh?”

“Don’t get too excited,” he quips, the edge of his lip twitching into that usual grin of his. “The other part is the potential of your blood, darling.”

“Ah yes. And here I was assuming you were just following me around so that you could steal my treasure.”

Both of your eyes move back to the unbroken padlock. It’s the only thing in this room that seems to be worth either of your time and Astarion knows it. It’s why he’s been so keen on your failure. 

“You know, I could help you if you like. Show you a thing or two so that the next time this happens you don’t have to rely on me.”

It’s tempting, even if you know that you’ll be taxed to all hell. Whatever spoils you find will ultimately be cut in half and, more than likely, he’ll sweeten the deal for himself by claiming first pick. 

“What’s the price?”

He shoots you a look of offence, clutching his chest. “My dear, I’d never dare put a price on the education of thievery.”

You hold back a grin, pressing your lips together, watching the way he quickly springs into action, motioning for you to hand him your tools. When you do he begins to explain the process, showcasing all the tips and tricks against the air with careful precision. Which would be helpful if you weren’t so focused on his hands rather than his words. On the way they curl around the handles of your tools, tightening with every gesture performed. 

Astarion’s got nicer hands than most. Long and thin and surprisingly well-manicured for someone who spends most of his time in the forest or drinking the blood of unsuspecting animals. And guiltily enough staring at them so intently just reminds you of that night he drained your neck. 

You can still feel the pressure of his fingers against your head. The way they roughly cupped you like a goblet of wine. Despite the fear in that moment, you’re now able to look back at that memory almost fondly. A moment of potential weakness for you somehow became a moment of trust for him and as a result, here you were now, acting almost friendly amid a terrible situation. 

It makes you grin, prompting Astarion to stop his explanation and narrow his eyes. 

“Are you even listening?”

“Hm?”

There’s a knowing glance that befalls his face then. A transition of clarity that has his mouth opening and closing before he hands you your tools. “Might be best if we take a more hands on approach.” 

You look at him confused, letting the hooks in your hand lazily rest in your palm as you watch him hop to his knees and begin to guide you. 

“I want you to do exactly what you were doing before, alright? Use the hook to push the pins.” 

Despite your continued confusion, you follow his position by kneeling in front of the chest and popping the hook into the hole, digging around the darkened space until you feel the shift of that first pin. 

“Got it?” You spare him a glance and a nod, watching him crawl towards you, positioning his chest firmly against your back before reaching out to hold your wrists. “Now, take that other hook of yours and situate it at the base of the barrel.”

Doing exactly that, you feel his fingers slowly slip over yours, navigating you through the trials of getting that second pin to shift as the barrel turns in your grasp. At first, it’s difficult. Mostly because all you can focus on is the breath that hits the side of your face. The heat of the air that travels down your spine in nervous waves you’re almost certain he can feel. But then you’re reminded that you’ve been here before; stuck within his heated grasp. 

“That’s it. Just like that.” 

You’re practically holding your breath as you find that third pin, feeling Astarion’s hand shift you in the right direction before you lose it at the last second. Ever so gently, his chest shifts upwards against your back so that he can rest his chin on your shoulder to get a better look. A newfound weight that makes you close your eyes and release a bit of air from your nose, realizing how intimate this is. 

Somehow it feels even more personal than letting him feed off of you. Perhaps because the bloodsucking was for his own benefit, knowing Astarion, moments like that where he’s able to take rather than give mean next to nothing to him. They’re just moments of manipulation. A series of tactical steps he takes to get whatever he wants whereas this is different. This is for you. 

You’re not sure how to describe it other than an offering of trust. Maybe it’s a token of appreciation for letting him consume. Maybe it’s nothing more than a game to make you squirm beneath his grasp. Either or, it’s an experience you know you’ll be thinking of for days to come, attempting to decipher its intent.

“Once you feel that final pin I want you to ease it in gently, alright? Be delicate.” 

You offer him no response as you listen to his words. If you did, you’re certain he’d make some offhand comment that would only further the lewdness of it all, grinning like the mischievous prick he is. 

“After that, you should feel a little shift and —voilà!” 

The chest clicks open. Your breath releases in a long, much-needed stream but Astarion makes no effort to move from your frame. Instead, he continues to cling to your hands, angling his chin so that when you eventually look at him you’re practically touching noses. 

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“It’s that easy?”

Slowly but surely he slips from your frame with a nod, his hands sliding across the expanse of your sleeves, coating your skin in a wave of goosebumps as he moves to stand. “Yes, but keep it hush, hush. Wouldn’t want the others to find out, would we?”

You shake your head, a small smile creeping across your lips as you then turn towards your reward, gripping both edges of the lid before pushing it up. Inside there are only a few items. A few spell scrolls and some fabric but it’s enough to get you excited regardless, realizing that it’s yours.

“Not bad for your first go.” Peeking over your shoulder, Astarion watches as you sift through everything carefully, unrolling each scroll to read the details before looking back up and raising a brow. 

“You sure there’s no tax?” you ask, but all he does is laugh and shake his head. 

“Finders keepers, darling. As I promised.” 

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Exhausted - John Wick X Female (Wife) Reader - ft. Boy

Title: Exhausted

John Wick X Female (Wife) Reader - ft. Boy

Additional Characters: Boy the best Boi

Requested by @fujinswife!

WC: 1,713

Warnings: Hitman stuff mentioned, killing people insinuated, wounds mentioned, bullet grazes mentioned, blood, one curse word, Reader takes care of John after a long day sort of cute fluff, massages cause John deserves them, Donald Glover mentioned), slight angst like the tiniest of angst, and fluff

You watched the clock on the wall, sitting on your favorite chair with a book in your hands. Though you had originally been enraptured with the new romantic drama you bought at Barnes And Noble, your mind began to wander and your eyes landed on the clock on the wall; tick, tock, tick, tock. It was almost ten, pretty late for you, but not for your husband. While you would probably be in bed by now, snuggled up with Boy, and cuddled in the arms of your beloved, your husband, John was out on the job.

Being a Hitman was a hard and stressful job, going out to find your hit and, in better words, eliminate them. It was taxing on the body and mind, and it was for you also at times. You always became overwhelmingly worried whenever you found John gone from bed and a Post-It note on the fridge. The words, 'going to the store' in black ink. You knew by now that that was code, code for 'I'm going to go and fight people and possibly come home with a wound or two.'

Now you didn't mind taking care of your John. Cleaning his bloody knuckles and bullet grazes helped you rationalize with your brain that your Johnny was alive and with you. That he came back, somewhat safe, but he was there with you in the flesh. Though you had to admit, the blood on your hands after helping your husband haunted you and made your skin crawl. But no matter how many times John tried to let him clean his own wounds, knowing how much you hated the sight of his blood, you'd stop him. You didn't think your husband was a burden, you were beyond willing to take care of him. You'd do anything to make sure he was alright.

As your gaze broke from the clock, you tried to re-read the page that you were on, glancing up when you heard the pitter-patter of clawed paws, watching with a smile as Boy entered the room, making his way over to you and sitting at your feet. You hummed, leaning down and past your book to rub Boy's head, his eyes closing in bliss as you scratched behind his ears. You hummed again, leaning back against the back of your chair, and looking at the front door. "I bet," You began, glancing at Boy with a smile, "He'll be home in ten minutes." You finished before tilting your own head. "When do you think Dad will be home? Hmm? Soon, right?" You asked Boy, who only whined a bit before laying his head on his front paws, making you sigh, nodding knowingly. "Yeah, another thirty. You're right."

For the next forty-five minutes, you sat and read, periodically making sure Boy was alright or taking a bathroom break. The room around you was dim, only a few lamps lighting it as you listened to the owl occasionally hoot outside, and the constant sound of crickets chirping outside in the garden. The book in your hands was as anticlimactic as you thought it would be from the first sentence. You regretted giving it a chance, really. You thought it was going to be a heartfelt book, with drama but a happy ending, like Pride And Prejudice or something, but you felt extremely underwhelmed when the main character, Maryanne, ended up marrying Lord Leo after her childhood friend Steven confessed to her. After all they've been through!? You thought as you stared blankly at the page. Steven sacrificed everything for you, and this Lord Leo had been caught cheating on you with your cousin Claire! You couldn't find it in yourself to even finish the last two pages, tasting a sourness in your mouth. 

"Should've called off the damn wedding." You muttered, earning a head raise from Boy as you shut the book and sat it aside, before you could say anything more to Boy, you watched as he looked over at the door suddenly, his tail wagging, and you smiled, staring at the door yourself as you felt your heart hammer in your chest. John was home. You watched as you heard the keys jingle in his hands before you jumped out of the chair and slid across the hardwood floor with your socks, almost hitting the door as you looked out the peephole just in case before hastily opening it. John stood there, blood on his bottom lip, hands, and dotting the collar of his white suit shirt, and yet, he still gave you a smile. 

Entering, you closed the door behind him, instantly taking any weapons from him to put away in that safe of his, before rushing back to find him standing where you left him, shoulders slightly slouched as he stared down at Boy at his feet, still fiercely wagging his tail. Breaking their stare down, you took John's hand in yours, leading him to the bathroom. As John sat on the lid of the toilet, you grabbed the first-aid kit from under the sink, and for the next half-and-hour, you cleaned any and all his wounds. It was silent as you worked, your tongue sticking out slightly from your mouth as you dabbed the cotton ball on his knuckles, cleaning off the blood. John just watched you, like he usually did, mesmerized by the thought of you caring for him, and just you in general. You were so careful when treating him. It warmed his heart, body, and soul.

After you finished cleaning his wounds, you helped John into the shower, before rushing off to find a new fresh pair of pajamas for him, throwing them, and his towel, in the dryer for a couple of minutes so they would be warm for John when he got out. For the rest, it was like clockwork, helping him out, giving him clothes, brushing his hair for him as he brushed his teeth slowly, and finally holding his freshly bandaged hand as you led him to the kitchen for some dinner.

Sometimes words were exchanged, but most of the time, there wasn't. The silence engulfed the two of you and it was nice, peaceful. You both basked in it. After you and John finished your food, you traveled to the couch where you turned on the tv, handing John the remote for him to browse through channels. Your hands then landed on his shoulders, gently putting pressure in all the right places, easing the tension in his muscles. You kissed his cheek softly, giving him what he needed to relax as he leaned further into you, sighing as your fingers trailed up his shoulders to his scalp, your fingernails scratching gently, running your fingers through his slightly damp hair.

Pulling away, you walked around the couch to sit beside John, smiling and chuckling lightly at the smile of content on his face. You sat down, leaning into his side as John's arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. The two of you watched the TV for a good while, which ended up being a Donald Glover movie, before you felt John's head turn, the stubble of his beard softly grazing your cheek, causing you to giggle quietly, turning your head a little to meet his gaze. Before you could say anything, John leaned down to press his lips onto yours, You smiled against his lips as you placed your hands on his stubbly cheeks, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. His hands ran down your body until they reached your waist, gripping you tightly, protectively, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hips, sending tingly shivers throughout your entire being before you both pulled away. 

You hummed, gazing lovingly at your husband, your eyes beholding the man's beauty, your fingers gently brushing against his cheeks, chin, and jaw. "What are you thinking about?" John mumbled, his voice husky with sleepiness. You opened your mouth to answer, but a yawn escaped you instead, shaking your head as you hid your face in his neck, feeling a bit embarrassed. 

"Just you." You answered softly, snuggling further into his neck as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. You smiled as you laid your hand against his chest, you could feel his heartbeat quicken, a soft chuckle escaping him. "I'm glad you're home." You told him as his hand cupped the nape of your neck, pulling you closer to his shoulder, his fingers running through the hair on the nape of your neck; kissing the top of your head.

"Me too. I missed you." He answered, kissing the top of your head. 

You sighed contently, nestling your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent deeply. You could feel your eyelids growing heavy. "I missed you too." You muttered against his neck, closing your eyes as you fell asleep in his arms. 

John sighed, holding you close as he watched Boy waddle over from his food bowl, looking up at him with big brown eyes. John took his time, scooping you up in his arms before standing up, grunting slightly as he strained his side a bit. Boy followed after you and John as he headed to the bedroom, hopping up on the bed as John laid you down gently in the bed, tucking you in the soft, fluffy covers. When he stood back up, he looked at Boy, staring at him for a moment before reaching down and petting the dog, smiling slightly as Boy leaned his head into his hand. 

“Good Boy.” John muttered, not wanting to wake you, as he rubbed Boy’s ears before Boy moved to lay beside you, your arm subconsciously wrapping around the pup before going back to sleeping peacefully. John sighed slightly before he got in bed on his side, pulling the blankets over him before turning on his side to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling your back into his chest. The night went on peacefully like this, the three of you falling fast asleep and waking up to each other. This process continued like this, every day, for months and years to come. You wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. Just you, John, and Boy, against the world.

[sanakimohara]

“Love To Hate You” H.H.

[ MDNI ]

+++++

You were so oblivious. Never paying much attention to anything but your job and most people would commend you for it. The burden of working under a company like JYPE wasn’t for the weak and as a current staff member you were well aware of that. Being assigned to assist the company’s most influential boy group didn’t make your life any easier either but you enjoyed the challenge and always showed up to work with a smile and an enthusiastic personality.

Everyone thought you were too sweet and quiet to be doing such a taxing job. Many of the other staff would have to remind you to take breaks or at least stop and eat something since you tended to forget about things like that. Even the members noticed how dedicated you were to them, always bringing them delicious homemade meals on special occasions, or taking extra time and effort to situate their styling correctly. These small gestures were essentially a substitute for your lack of confident social skills.

You’d never let a detail get past you, made sure they were comfortable with everything you pick out, and are the first to assist them if something goes wrong.

Because of your docile and attentive manner they all took a liking to you very quickly. Chan even joked that you were essentially their honorary “baby” which at the time made you blush every time any of the members addressed you that way. You became a close friend with them and often found yourself spending time with the group when their schedules allowed it.

Most of the members became attached to you in their own ways -but not all.

As close as you were to the majority of Stray Kids, Hyunjin always seemed to keep his distance from you. He wasn’t cruel or intentional about avoiding you but it was obvious he was doing it. You didn’t say anything about it, never mentioned it to the other members either, and though you felt guilty for possibly making him uneasy you still were friendly in his presence. The nagging urge to confront him waded underneath your shroud of shyness and it didn’t help that Hyunjin could be intimidating sometimes.

That didn’t hinder the others from wanting you around though. It became normal for you to be around them beyond work obligations.

When you started coming around the dorm more often Hyunjin seldomly interacted with you. Although, more than a few times you’d caught him staring you down or eyeing any member who was close to you. He’d never say anything, nor would he directly focus on you if he didn’t have to, and this caused your nerves to be on edge when he entered the room.

The times he did give you the slightest attention ranged from randomly pushing a strand of hair behind your ear when you’d fix his outfits or a simple gesture like waiting to hold the door open for you when you’d drop by the dorms. To anyone else it just seemed like he being kind to you but it was obvious he didn’t do these things for any other staff…it was just you in particular.

This confused you further and one particular night after drinking through a few glasses of alcohol with Felix and Seungmin you wandered into Hyunjin’s room to finally confront him.

You felt nervous but the alcohol in your system overpowered your usual timid nature. Curiosity played a part in your sudden boldness as well but it was mostly the inevitable feeling of unease Hyunjin might harbor around you.

So, when you shuffled into his room and slid down the door as you closed it shut with a dazed look in your eyes Hyunjin wondered if you’d gotten lost trying to find Felix’s room instead.

That would be the only logical reason, he thought to himself.

If that wasn’t the case he prayed you wouldn’t stay long enough to notice the rising tent in his pants. He tried his best to hide it by leaning forward in his chair until his elbows rested on his knees which only left his face in your direct line of view. “Why are you here,” he asks with a slight smile, gaze slowly taking in your appearance, and you shifted slightly as he did. He was attempting to sound friendly but the question just came out rushed instead since his head was spinning at the sight of you.

You’d totally forgotten that it wasn’t at all proper to sit so leisurely with a skirt that short on. He could see everything you had to offer, your untouched mound so tenderly hidden behind lace underwear, and your sheer thigh high stockings elevating the bare skin of your thighs. Hyunjin took one glance at it all and had to remind himself it wasn’t right to take advantage of a sweet girl like you…even if you were practically asking for it.

The moral part of you knew readjusting your posture would be the respectful thing to do, but the other half wanted him to keep looking…at least now you’d have his full attention for once.

He couldn’t look away from you even if he tried…and he’d been trying since the first time the two of you met. Now, it just felt like pure torture to see you in a state like this. So vulnerable, powerless, and obnoxiously aware of the tension between you two.

“Why are you here,” he asks you again, forcing his gaze to remain on your face as you huff and lazily try pull your skirt down. You fail miserably though and the fabric just rides up your thighs higher. “Why do hate me…” you blurt the question out in a soft tone, as if you’ll cry if he doesn’t tell you the truth, and Hyunjin can’t help but to lick his lips at the sound. Hate you? Is that what you thought he felt towards you, hatred?

Hyunjin stifled a groan as the thought flooded his mind. All this time he’d been waiting for the right time to get closer to you and you show up in his room, drunk, almost in tears, and acting unintentionally seductive all because you think he hates you???

The irony made his cock jump with agitation and he forced himself to exhale steadily before saying anything else to you.

“I don’t hate you,” he responds honestly but you don’t believe him. “Yes, you do..” you mumble solemnly, hot tears begging to slip down your cheeks, and you tilt your head back against the wall to blink them away. An exasperated sigh leaves Hyunjin’s chest and he stands up from his bed to walk over to you. If his words couldn’t convince then he’d have to go to the extreme at this point.

“I don’t hate you,” he repeats himself, closing the distance between you two until he’s towering over your slumped form. This was the closest he’d ever gotten to you -that didn’t require you to be doing your job- and your heart beats rapidly realizing it. “Yes…yes you do Hyunjin,” you whisper and stare up at him defeatedly. “It’s okay if you don’t like me..” you assure him with a small smile and he rolls his eyes in annoyance. He knew you could naive and a little slow to realize when someone’s being genuine with you but it was only working him up more. He reached for one of your hands, placing it right over his evident bulge, “fuck,” he moans quietly at the forced contact and you watch as he rolls his neck to regain some of his composure before staring down at you again.

That was incredibly attractive for no reason, you think to yourself.

Your eyes go wide at the feeling his length, fingertips flush against his clothed cock as it twitches under your gentle touch. Hyunjin lets out a shakey breath, his bottom lip catching between his teeth as you gingerly palmed him as if you couldn’t believe he let you touch him, and you really couldn’t. “Does it feel like I hate you?,” his breath hitches as the question tumbles from his mouth and you shake your head slowly before whispering, “No..”

He twitches again, swallowing a sudden moan when you place a kiss on his covered hard on. You couldn’t help it, mind fuzzy from alcohol, and the newfound information of Hyunjin pinning over you rather than despising your presence sparking a need you didn’t know existed.

Hyunjin pried your hand away from his crotch, pulling you up to stand as he did so, and you stumbled forward into him from a lack of sobriety. His lips pressed onto yours without hesitation, tongue kissing you until your heavy breaths turned into soft moans. “I hate what you do to me,” he confesses his frustrations in the midst of your lips finding his and your core throbs hearing it. His hands wanders to the curve of your ass, hiking your skirt up high as he squeezes the warm flesh, and trails tender kisses across your neck.

You run your fingers through his hair, pulling the strands gently as he makes one mark after the next on your flushed skin. With his hands on your hips you’re eager to grind against him and he lets you until he’s brought you over to his bed. The back of your knees hit the edge and he gently shoves you down. “I hate that I can’t have you…can’t touch you whenever I want…can’t fuck you whenever I want..” Hyunjin groans as he comes to hover above you, grazing a hand down your leg to place it around his waist, effectively bringing your core right to the imprint of his cock. You stifle a yelp at the jolting contact, hips automatically lifting to feel more of him, and he allows it with a satisfied smile on his face. “Tell me you’ve wanted this to…that I’m not the only one..” his voice sounds so distant but it fills your head to the brim with lust. “You’re not the only one,” you reply breathily, head lulling back as he slips a hand between your thighs and rubs his thumb in circles over you covered clit. You clench around nothing as his touch stirs a familiar warmth in your core.

A blush paints your cheeks as his touch reveals how wet you are. You’ve practically ruined your underwear now and he makes it a point to admire his effect on you. “Is this just for me?” Hyunjin delves a finger past your folds without warning, adding another to stretch your tight cunt when he feels how easily you take the first. You tremble at the sudden invasion and moan out a broken, “Y-yes…” He hums in approval, curling his fingers forward until he finds the sweetest spot in your walls that makes you jolt underneath him as he abuses it. All while continuing to massage your clit in slow circles of his thumb.

“Ah…mmm Hyun-Hyunjin….” You can’t help yourself from moaning his name, lips forming a small ‘I’ shape as he focused on your pleasure.

You were sure that you’re high wasn’t far off and one look at Hyunjin concentrating on your every reaction didn’t help your stamina. Your hands reached for him and he immediately came close to you, sharing open mouthed kisses as he pumped his fingers lazily into you, every noise you made he quieted with a tender kiss, and soon your cunt contracted around his fingers before spilling your cum all over them.

“I’ve been waiting forever to do that,” he mutters into your ear, kissing it as a smile tugs at his lips. “Your pussy feels better than I imagined..”

You moan weakly in response and he occupies himself with marking up your neck again while his fingers slowly leave your weeping cunt. It felt like pure heaven when he takes a moment to play with your clit, edging you towards another high as he discreetly pulled his cock out of its confinement. You feel his length brush your inner thigh and you smiled at the promise of having it.

Hyunjin brushed a hand through your hair, the rings on them making it easier for him to fist a handful, and using the hold to force your head to the side. You whined at his rough gesture but couldn’t complain as he lovingly whispered in your ear, “I don’t hate you…but I’m going to fuck you like I do…” his word are met with a pathetic groan of anticipation from you, hips lifting to feel his cock slide up and down your slit. He lets out a sharp breathe, the hand in your hair tightening as you stimulate yourself with just his girth, and for a moment all hes capable of doing is enjoy it.

You’re so desperate to get off that when Hyunjin does push past your folds you instantly cry out loudly and have to steady yourself by clinging to him. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to his size at all, keeping his promise about fucking you like he does actually hate you, and your body is on fire from the sensation. His hips create fluid and intense strokes, allowing his cock to reach places in your core you didn’t know could be touched.

His entire body envelopes your own, leaving no space between you two, and only amping up the amount of heated tension. “When we’re done you’ll never think I hate you again…” Hyunjin stays true to his word and by the next morning you don’t even question why you’re in his bed, curled up in his arms, with the sound of his heartbeat steadily resounding in your ear.

He’s never hated you. That much you’re sure of now.

+++++

[skyahri]

Retire |Kakashi X Reader| HC

Summary: You need some convincing to leave ANBU.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and depression. Mentions of suicide. A bit angsty and self-destructive, but fluffy overall.

- - - - -

Even though he'd retired a few years back, you were still an active ANBU captain.

The job was grueling, and he was well aware that the longer you stayed, the worse the missions became.

That isn't just because of the overall baggage people acquire, but because seasoned black ops were often sent on the more... unethical missions.

You'd been acting off recently. He had let it go at first, knowing how taxing the line of work could be, but something in his mind was bugging him to investigate.

He assumed everything had started to actually get to you, so he decided to check in on you between missions with team 7.

He knocked on your door. It took a minute, but you answered.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but this wasn't it.

Your appearance was appalling.

You'd lost a lot of weight, you had bags under your eyes, and you reeked of alcohol.

"Just checking in on you. It's been a while."

"Yeah, Tsunade has me on back to back missions. This is my first break in months."

He had assumed his intensive schedule with his team was the thing keeping you two apart, but apparently not.

"How about you get cleaned up while I go get us something to eat? My treat."

"I'm pretty tired, Kashi. I think I'd like to continue rotting for the time being. Thanks for the offer, though."

You gently shut the door in his face.

A sour look plastered itself on his face.

Unfortunately, your use of rotting didn't seem too far off, so he decided to talk to a third party about it.

His first stop was to see Tenzo. Maybe he knew what was up since you two worked so closely.

"I've noticed as well. I tried to ask, but they told me it wasn't appropriate for subordinates to question their captain."

Add that to the list of odd behavior.

You loved Tenzo like family, just like Kakashi did, so the sudden change was worrisome.

He went to ask Asuma as well, knowing he had been in the village more often than he had recently.

Asuma pulled him inside his home and away from prying eyes. Last thing he wanted was the wrong person hearing such a sensitive information.

"We already talked to Tsunade about it months ago when we noticed a decline in her health. Word got back to them, they said something about breach of trust, and they haven't spoken to any of us since."

Kakashi just nodded.

He remembered a time where he also reacted poorly when he'd been questioned in a similar manner.

The only difference is lord Third actually listened instead of allowing him to dig himself deeper into an early grave.

He dwelled on it for a few days.

He cared about you deeply. It was different than any of his other friendships- more personal and open.

The last thing he wanted was to go behind your back and end up with the same treatment the rest of the group was getting.

So he put on his big boy pants and showed up at your door again with vengeance.

He had been practicing what he'd say the whole way over. He needed to be prepared for anything you threw at him so he didn't falter.

But when you opened the door, his fire simmered out.

You just looked so tired.

His words got stuck in his throat.

So he did the only thing he could think of - he just walked forward, straight into you, and wrapped you up in a hug.

You resisted at first, but the second his warmth hit your bones, you relaxed.

It only lasted for a moment before the feelings started to set in, causing your body to shake with sobs.

You fell to the ground, dragging him with you, but his hold didn't loosen one bit.

"It's okay. I'm here for you."

That only made things worse. Something about his comfort was making all the feelings you've worked so hard to repress bubble up to the surface.

After you'd visibly calmed down, he'd picked you up and carried you to the couch. He positioned you so you'd be touching as much as possible without him being too forward.

"I hate ANBU."

Straight to the point. He wasn't sure if that was good or not.

"Why don't you retire? It's been almost fifteen years. That's way longer than most make it."

You hesitated. You had a reason, but the thought of saying it out loud made it sound so silly.

One look at Kakashi’s face told you he wasn't messing around.

You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. It made it easier to answer without him looking at you.

"If it's not me going out there, its someone else. I'm already too far gone, may as well save someone else from this fate."

Oh.

Kakashi had fully been expecting some sort of 'I can handle it' response, but this one was so... awful. Just absolutely heart-wrenching.

He collected his thoughts, trying to find a way to reason with you.

"There are people in ANBU who can handle that kind of mental load. You were that person many years ago,"

You just looked at him with that sad, defeated face, and it broke his heart all over again.

"But that's not the case anymore. It's time to pass on the torch."

You shook your head, ready to get up and kick him out. He just pulled you back down and held your hands in his.

"I was so angry when I was forced to retire. I felt like I could do more, like it wasn't that bad, and everyone was underestimating me. Do you know what happens when shinobi like us aren't told to quit?"

You shook your head.

"They end up like my father."

You stayed silent after that. How could you argue when he had just pulled the dead dad card?

So you promised to think about it.

He knew that would be as good as it would get, so he dropped it and opted to switch to a lighter subject.

After an hour or so of talking, you fell asleep. He carried you to your bed and tucked you in. He thought about staying over, but decided against it.

He didn't see you the next day. He'd knocked on your door, but no one answered, and he couldn't sense you inside.

He hoped you were just busy and not on another mission.

He did see you the next day, however.

He was heading to the Hokage's tower to chat with Tsunade about team 7's next mission when he bumped into you.

You smiled at him.

It felt like he was looking at a different person. You were almost glowing. Your eyes seemed a bit brighter, face looked a little fuller, and overall vibe was less damming.

"I retired this morning."

He damn near hugged you in front of the whole village.

"That's great to hear."

[mononijikayu]

"i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you." — gojo satoru.

And now, you realize how human Gojo Satoru was. How normal he was. How tender he was for a world that was not the same towards him. You sighed, parting from him slightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He took a look towards you, as though searching for the universe behind your lilac eyes.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: in another life by son lux

NOTE: waiting for my meds to kick in and i saw the clip from everything everywhere all at once where waymond says, 'in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you' and i just thought of them....thought of genmei (you) and satoru, just enjoying this sort of life. very short but this is one to warm your heart. let's remember satoru as the man he was. as the loving human being who was fun and generous and tender. i'll be doing this for a while. until i get my head straight. in a way, this is how i'll mourn him. by remembering him lovingly <333

masterlist

u s and t h e m

YOU ALWAYS LIKED HAVING SATORU AROUND THE HOUSE. Your husband was if anything — always not at home. Even if he’d like to be, it’s not up to him. And you as much as he does, hated it. You’d always understood that. You could never feel hate for Satoru about things he genuinely could not control. 

In these past few years of marriage, you were lucky if he could get the Sundays off. He’d always made the point to the higher–ups that he would never answer calls on that day. He’d like to focus on being around you, being around Tsumiki and Megumi — to be as present as possible.

But in the past few years, the number of curses had dramatically increased and the number of professional sorcerers had dwindled. Of course, you yourself felt some guilt in that. You yourself have taken a leave for almost two years now, having followed in Nanami’s footsteps. Even now,  principal Gakuganji has been pressuring you for your return each and every day. But you flat out refused each and every turn, every call, every message. Satoru did not fault you for it, he understood.

Considering that you had wanted to be more attentive in giving Tsumiki and Megumi an active presence in their lives. You wanted that for Satoru too. You wanted him to know that there was always someone waiting for him to come home. That there was going to be someone that was willing to stay awake, yearning for him to return every day and every night. He had always been so gleeful about that — smug even. 

Because he had something to live for. He had something to look forward to when the days get rough with the amount of curses he’d have to go through left and right. He didn’t mind that your duties in the jujutsu world became his own. What mattered was that he had Megumi and Tsumiki and you, his precious wife.. He couldn’t ask for anything more.  He’d brag to Shoko and his sister about how he had someone waiting for him to come home. 

"You know," Satoru began, a playful glint in his eye, "I brag to Shoko and my sister about how I have someone waiting for me to come home."

You looked up from the cutting board, a smile tugging at your lips. "Oh, really? And what exactly do you tell them?"

He grinned, leaning casually against the counter. "I tell them about how you're always here, making the place feel like home. How you cook amazing dinners and make sure everything runs smoothly."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "You're exaggerating, Satoru. I'm just doing what anyone would."

He shook his head, his expression turning more serious. "No, you're not. You make all the difference. Coming home to you... it's everything. It makes all the craziness worth it."

Your heart warmed at his words, and you set down the knife, wiping your hands on a nearby towel. "Well, for the record, I brag about you too."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh? To whom? And what do you say?"

“To the mothers at Tsumiki and Megumi’s school,” You grinned at him. "I tell them about how my precious husband always manages to juggle being the busiest person I know and still you always make time for me, even when you're exhausted. And how you make me feel safe and loved, no matter what. How you make Tsumiki and Megumi feel happy and safe—seen and cared for.”

Satoru's cerulean eyes softened, and he reached out to take your hand in his. "I'm glad you feel that way. Because that's all I want—for you to feel safe and loved."

You squeezed his hand, the connection between you palpable in the quiet kitchen. "I do, Satoru. Every day."

He smiled, the kind that lit up his entire face. "Good. Because I plan on bragging about you for a long time."

And so, now that he also gets calls on Sundays, Gojo Satoru makes the most of anything and everything — every moment was important for him to measure up to. Today was one of those rare, precious days off for your husband, and you both intended to savor every moment of it. 

The usually bustling Gojo residence was quiet and peaceful, with Tsumiki and Megumi still out for the day. They were still in school, doing some more club activities. Megumi took up baseball, while Tsumiki took on band music. So you and Satoru wouldn’t have to go to school until 5:30 pm. It was only 4:00pm. And so you were adamant to start prepping for dinner — so that when you all got home, the hotpot would just need some cooking. You were there again in your turf, the kitchen, as you hummed a song that’s been stuck in your head for a while. 

As you sliced the vegetables with practiced ease, you could hear your husband Satoru enter the room. He had taken off his usual blindfold, and opted for his round dark glasses. Your husband had a habit of taking even the round glasses when he’s around you. But you know it hurts his head to even do so. 

He’d pout and he’d stomp all about, saying how he just wanted to see how pretty you were. But you always stood your ground. Still, you could still feel how revealing those striking blue eyes glaring at you even when they’re covered up. They always seemed to see right through you. 

Satoru sighed contentedly, his thumb still gently brushing over your knuckles as he watched you chop. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board was soothing, a small anchor in the storm of your lives. His presence beside you felt like a protective shield, his love and strength enveloping you like a warm embrace. He leaned against the counter, watching you with a contented smile. The quiet hum of domesticity felt foreign yet comforting.

"You know," he said softly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence, "Sometimes I envy the ordinary people. They have no idea about the world we live in, the dangers we face. Their biggest concerns are mundane things like bills and grocery lists."

You looked at him, a somber smile on your lips. "It's the simplicity we crave, isn't it? The idea of living a life where our biggest worry is what's for dinner, not the next life-or-death battle."

Satoru's cerulean eyes sparkled for a moment. "Exactly, y’know? Rare for us to get moments where we can pretend, just for a little while, that we're just like everyone else."

You smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude for the man standing beside you. "And those rare moments mean everything. They remind us why we fight, why we keep going."

He pulls at your other hand, taking it to his own as you gasped. He presses a kiss on your palm. "You always know how to put things into perspective."

“You know, you don’t bring up these things unless you’re thinking a lot.”

He grins. “Oh, but who says I’m thinking a lot?"

“My love, I’ve known you long enough to know you only talk when you feel like you can’t keep it inside anymore.” You say, putting your knife aside and squeezing the hand he occupies with his own. ”Tell me, what's on your mind?"

He hesitated as he stayed silent. He didn’t know how to say it, having to close and then open his mouth. Satoru was just like that too, when you met him. He took a moment before he just sighed deeply, his expression softening. 

"I don't want to be doing this anymore," he said quietly, almost to himself.

You stopped mid–chop and turned to look at him, your heart skipping a beat. "Doing what?" you asked, needing clarification.

"This!" he repeated, gesturing vaguely around him in the empty space like a mad man."Well, not our life. That’s the best part. But I’m…… I’m always away and I miss this, y’know? I miss having to just be here. Enjoying this. I miss it a lot, darling.”

“Satoru, my love,  you can’t help it if you’re busy.” You say to him tenderly, sending him a soft smile. “That’s your job.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” He says as he lowers his gaze, his lips tight in a prominent pout. He sighs, rubbing the back of his head. “I know that it’s wishful thinking but I just…y’know? What if I don’t have to? What if I just left? What if we just got to Hida and hid forever? All the fighting, the constant danger……the weight of being the strongest. It’s taxing, darling.”

You looked at him, your eyes echoing pain at his words. You walked over to him, his bright blue eyes not leaving your own lilac ones. You opened your arms and knowing Infinity is down when he’s with you, wrapped your arms around him. He settles in your touch rather quickly, resting his chin against your shoulder as he wrapped his own strong arms against your own.

“Is that what you want?” You ask him in a small whisper, looking at him as though trying to make sure he’s sure. “Would you not regret leaving it all behind?”

“I want this, I'm sure I am." he continued, his voice taking on a more wistful tone. “I’m sure I am.”

“But what about your work—”

“I just…” He leans against you even more. "This little suburban, quaint type of the normal sort of peace. All I want in life.  I don’t wanna hear the depths of some curse’s stimulation, darling. Just…. Just wanna hear your breath or the rhythm you have when you chop the veggies for the hotpot. ‘miki’s violin strings when she practices before breakfast, ‘gumi’s little chants in secret when he watches the baseball league by himself. Just…..just want this.”

If you hadn’t fallen for him years ago, you think you would have fallen for him now. His words hung in the air, heavy with longing and sincerity. Your heart was enraptured by him, completely. 

It was always hard for Satoru to be honest with his feelings. You’ve known that the first time you met him, when Yaga forced you to check on your new special grade sorcerers. When he first spoke to you, all of his words sounded ever so pretentious. Annoyingly so. But over time, you realized much about him. You learned much about him. You started to embrace him. 

And now, you realize how human Gojo Satoru was. How normal he was. How tender he was for a world that was not the same towards him. You sighed, parting from him slightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He took a look towards you, as though searching for the universe behind your lilac eyes. 

"Gojo Satoru," you said softly, your eyes searching for him beneath all that cerulean hue. "I swear to you, my love,  this life or the next — in another life, I would've really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you."

He chuckled, a soft, genuine sound that made your heart swell. His cheeks were red scarlet as he looked at you bashfully. His cerulean eyes seemed to grow even brighter, reflecting the depth of his love for you.  He presses his cheek against your shoulder, resting there for a moment as though to just let his warmth be felt by your own skin. To let you know, even his warmth was for you.

"Me too." he admitted, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I imagine a life where the biggest worry we have is what to make for dinner or whether we should wash the whites separately."

You smiled, the simplicity of the idea bringing a sense of warmth and peace. "That sounds perfect."

Satoru's gaze softened as he leaned in closer. "You know, I think about that sometimes. A life without all the chaos, just us. It’s nice to dream, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," you whispered, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity behind them. "But even in this life, come what may, I'm grateful to have you for all of it. I couldn’t have asked for anything more."

His fingers tightened around yours, a silent promise of his unwavering support. "And I'm grateful to have you, darling. You really are my dream, you know?”

You both laughed, the sound mingling with the quiet of the room. The idea of such a mundane life felt strangely appealing, a stark contrast to the chaos and danger that defined your existence now. But at that moment, it was a dream worth holding onto.

"Maybe one day, we’ll have it." you said, squeezing his hand. "It’s not impossible, hm?”

He nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and determination. "Yeah, it’s not.”

For now, though, you both knew your responsibilities were far from over. The weight of the jujutsu world and its relentless demands pressed heavily on your shoulders, but this stolen moment of peace, this shared dream of a simpler life, was enough to sustain you through the battles yet to come.

“I love you, Satoru. Whatever happens.”

He grins at you, kissing your cheek tenderly.

“I love you too, darling. Always and forever.”

You were living the best of life, loving him.

epilogue

The aroma of the hotpot filled the kitchen, promising a delicious meal. You and Satoru were still wrapped in your own little world, working together seamlessly as you finished up the preparations. Meanwhile, in the dining room, Tsumiki and Megumi were setting the table, so that you can eat soon after the hotpot is cooked and done.

Tsumiki hummed happily as she placed the plates and utensils, a bright smile on her face. "It's so nice to see them like this," she said, glancing back towards the kitchen where Satoru was playfully teasing you as you stirred the pot. “its so lovely again!"

Megumi, however, was less than thrilled. He sighed dramatically, his shoulders slumping as he set down the last of the chopsticks. "I swear, Satoru’s like a clingy puppy. It's like he can't do anything without being attached to her."

Tsumiki giggled, nudging her brother. "Oh, come on, Megumi. It's sweet. They're happy, and that's all that matters."

Megumi rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah, yeah, I guess. But do they have to be so... mushy about it?"

Just then, Satoru's laughter echoed from the kitchen. "Hey, be careful! You almost burned my hand!" he teased, making you laugh in response. “Darling!~”

“Satoru, be careful or the pot will fall!”

“Ah, but I wanna hug you some more!”

“The kids won’t have dinner if I crash on this pot! Satoru—"

"Blegh! Just one more squeeze! Stop pushing me back!"

"Gojo Satoru, if we starve tonight, it would be your fault!"

Tsumiki placed the last napkin on the table and turned to Megumi, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "See? Everything is right in the world when they're like this. Besides, it's good to see Satoru–san relaxed for once."

Megumi sighed in feign annoyance. But Tsumiki was sure that there was a hint of affection in his eyes as he watched Satoru lean over to kiss your cheek. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right……As long as they're happy, I guess…..we’ll be able to deal with it."

As you and Satoru brought the steaming hotpot to the table, Tsumiki clapped her hands together. "Dinner is ready! Everything looks delicious. Thank you so much for your hard work!”

Satoru beamed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "All thanks to my amazing partner here," he said, giving you a squeeze. “We can eat well tonight!”

You smiled in tandem with your blush, playfully swatting his arm. "And the help of our wonderful family."

Megumi shook his head. "Alright, enough with the love fest. Let's eat."

Tsumiki giggled, taking her seat. "Don't worry, Megumi. One day, you'll find someone who makes you as happy as they make each other."

Satoru smirked, ruffling Megumi's hair. "Yeah, and then we'll tease you mercilessly about it.”

Megumi groaned, swatting Satoru's hand away. "Shut up!”

“Darling, our son’s being mean to me again~”

You smiled at both of them. “I’m not getting involved!”

“But darling!”c

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

In a Perfect World, You Love Me [i]

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: injury, mentions of blood, cursing, derogatory name calling, forced drug exposure, hallucinations, light smut, angst, and some angst, and a little more angst just to top it off (actually this isn’t nearly as heartbreaking as some stuff i’ve written before lol), self doubt, anxiety, also cobb vanth is here. it’s not a warning but i love him so i wanted to mention it.🤷🏻‍♀️

word count: 6,961

Summary: On the way to visit an old friend, you and Mando find trouble. Both of you are subjected to a drug that puts you in your perfect world. But, when you can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t, how do you know what to trust?

a/n: bitches be planning out short drabbles about heart break only for it to turn into a long wordy mess. it’s me. i’m bitches. anybody know the show supernatural? it’s a show about like dramatic ass sad brothers who travel the country fighting monsters? (i know you know i’m being sarcastic). i watched that one episode where the djinn puts dean in like a dream world and it inspired this. i wanted to name it ‘din djarin’s djinn dream’ but that seemed a bit too on the nose.

.

“sometimes it is not love that breaks your heart. it is disappointment.”

-r.m. drake

.

Grogu was safe. That was the first thought that came to mind. You were so incredibly grateful that Mando had decided to leave the small child with Peli at the shop. It had been a last minute call. Weirdly, you were also thankful that you hadn’t stayed behind. You nearly did. Traveling through the Dune Sea was an absolutely miserable experience between the heat and the sand. It would have been so much more comfortable to just sit in the shop, cuddle with Grogu, and watch Peli con her customers.

However, when Mando mentioned he was going to Mos Pelgo you jumped at the chance to visit Cobb Vanth. It had been ages since you last saw the man, and you were eager to catch up with the marshal. So you climbed onto Mando’s rented land speeder, wrapped your arms around his beskar armor, and the two of you set off. What was supposed to be a simple day trip to greet an old friend and ask for a favor turned into a Maker forsaken nightmare.

Your face was throbbing in pain, you tasted blood in your mouth, and you were fairly certain your right wrist was broken based on the swelling and discoloration. Despite all of that, despite the pain and fear, the thought occurred to you once more. You were so thankful you were here. 

“How pathetic.” The smuggler cackled amongst his small crew. “You’re going to protect the Mandalorian from us? You dumb bitch.”

Five dangerous men stood at the rim of the pit you were trapped in while Mando laid motionless behind you. There was a bit of blood pooling from out of the bottom of his helmet, onto the sand, and the only comfort you had that Mando was still with you was the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

The smugglers had set a trap that Mando and you had fallen right into. As your land speeder tripped a wire it caused a blast that had both of you falling into a pit. The damned thing was deep enough to leave both of you injured and you prayed that your injuries were worse than Mando’s and he was just out cold for a moment. Your attackers began to argue amongst one another and you stayed on high alert. Mando and you were fish in a barrel. They could rain blaster fire down on you and there would be nothing you could do about it. The only reason you hadn’t grabbed Mando’s blaster to fire up is because you didn’t want to trigger a massacre.

“Shoot her dead then climb down and collect the beskar. Easy.” One smuggler scoffed and pulled out his blaster. You flinched but the loudest of the men, the leader, shoved the blaster’s aim away from you. “What?”

“The moment we try and get off world we’re gonna get stopped by those damned pirates again.” He snapped. “We keep the girl alive and hand her over as the tax we pay to pass free. We keep all the Mandalorian’s armor to ourselves.”

“Who’d want a bitch over beskar?”

“Oh, trust me.” The lead smuggler chuckled and the sound made you cringe. You set your hand in Mando’s gloved one and wished more than anything his grip would tighten around you rather than stay limp. “I know the man running the show right now, and he’s got a weakness for pretty little things.”

You tried to hide the tremble that shook your frame and you whispered for Mando to wake up⏤ for him to hear you. The lead smuggler opened his bag and you grasped Mando’s blaster. As threateningly as you could manage, you barked out. “You come down here and I’ll kill you. You hear me?!”

“Aw, she’s got some bite. Maybe we should keep her instead.”

“Shut the hell up.” The lead snapped and continued to root through his bag. “Where the kriff is that damned spice bomb?” Your eyebrows furrowed. Spice was bad news. It wasn’t something you ever wanted to touch. You had seen what the addiction could do to people, and you had a very bad feeling about what a spice bomb would be. “There it is.”

Panic hit you, and you lifted the blaster to start firing but the leader tossed a glowing red ball down into the pit and the smugglers dove away from the hole. The ball exploded mid way down into a cloud of red dust that rained down on you and Mando. You tried to cover your mouth and nose with the bottom of your shirt, but it was to no avail. Your entire body grew heavy, collapsing on top of Mando’s chest, and a sharp, tingling sensation washed over you before your eyes fell shut.

Din woke with a start⏤ panting and desperate for air. His mind was filled with a heavy fog that he tried to swim through to gather his bearings. There had been a wire. Din noticed it much too late and he remembered the ground swallowing you and him whole. You. Your scream was the last thing he could recall. 

His hands drifted to his face and Din hated that it was only then that he noticed he wasn’t wearing a helmet. He blamed the fog. Din scrambled about the soft bed he realized he was tucked into as he searched the space around him for his armor. Din was in a bedroom he didn’t recognize wearing only a pair of sleep pants. Dank farrik. Din leapt out of bed but stumbled rather than landed with any amount of grace. Where was he? Where were you?? 

He forced himself to take a steadying breath and centered himself. 

The bedroom was small. Only a large bed, a clothing dresser, and two nightstands on either side of the bed. The walls were painted a soft blue, two doors leading out, and one wall had a window that spanned nearly the entire length of the room. Din blinked in confusion. Outside was a bustling city with towering pillar-like buildings and early morning light spilling down through holes in the upper shelf casting light on a city that was very much alive. Din knew where he was. He just didn’t know how he got here or how this was even possible.

“Sundari?” He breathed in shock. Din had only seen images of the cities of Mandalore. Sundari, the domed capital city, being the most infamous of all. This must have been a dream. Exactly how hard had he hit his head in the fall?

Din, in all his distraction, hadn’t even noticed the sound of running water until it stopped. He spun on his heel and stared at the door in the corner which must have led into a fresher. Din wasn’t alone. His hand snapped to his hip for his blaster but met air. Maker, he’d be happy when this concussion finally passed. He scanned the room for any kind of weapon he could use and as he grasped the nightstand drawer he froze. Sitting on top of the small table was a holo image being projected up from a disk as decor.

It was a photo of you and Grogu. Din narrowed his eyes at it in confusion. The two of you were at a park of some kind, but he couldn’t recall where or when this had occurred. The door opened, making Din jump in surprise. Fine, concussion or not, he’d fight his way out by hand. However, as if he couldn’t possibly be caught more off guard, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing only a towel.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” You stepped toward him and Din stayed frozen in place. Your hands came up to run across his bare chest before settling on his waist where you continued to trace your fingertips up and down in a repetitive pattern. There was so much happening at once that Din didn’t even know what to think. It didn’t help that the moment your skin touched his, his mind seemed to short circuit. “I was trying to let you sleep in for at least a little.”

Ever since you had confessed to him weeks ago that you wanted more than just a friendship Din had been plagued with dreams of you. Visions of you moaning under him as he buried himself into your warmth, of you riding his cock while his hands explored your body, of him simply holding you in his arms and memorizing your features unimpeded by his helmet. But never had it ever felt this real. 

“Din?” You tilted your head. Hearing his name from your lips, he shuddered. How was this happening? You staring up at his bare face and whispering his name in concern. 

Din tried to open his mouth and speak, but his voice had left him. When you confessed to him, it had taken every fiber of his being to not react. As much as he cared about you, as badly as he wanted you, he knew it was a bad idea. Din knew he had to draw a line to keep you safe. He was dangerous and Din knew it was selfish of him to keep you and Grogu around despite that. He always figured the two of you would go your separate ways when the jedi were found and Grogu was delivered, but Din would never be able to say good-bye to you if he crossed that line. So he lied. Told you he didn’t feel the same and walked away leaving you teary eyed and broken hearted. 

You frowned. Your eyebrows furrowed and he had the overwhelming urge to smooth out your brow with his fingers. Trace every inch of your face with his hands. “You look sad, love.” You lifted your hands to cup his face. “Did you have that nightmare again?”

“Wh⏤What?” Din’s voice was quiet and ragged.

“We’re safe now. You don’t have to worry.” You caressed his cheek. “Me, you, and Grogu. We’re all safe. We have a home. Our days of running are over.”

Din shook his head. “No, no. We were in the Dune Sea. I⏤I missed the trip wire and we fell. You were hurt. We⏤”

“Din, that was so long ago. Out of all the bantha shit we’ve dealt with I’m surprised that memory is the one plaguing you.” You said.

Din pulled out of your arms. “It wasn’t. It just happened. You’re lost⏤ You’re hurt. I have to⏤”

“I’m not lost. I’m not hurt. I’m safe, right here with you, in our home. Grogu is still sleeping down the hall. There’s no place safer for our son and I.” You set your hands on his chest once more. “Grogu with his buir, and I with my riduur.”

Din was so shocked by the Mando’a that left your lips that he didn’t even register the soft kiss you pressed in the middle of his chest. Right where his iron heart would be if he had his armor on. You stepped away from him, walking to the dresser off to the side, and Din watched you go until you let the towel fall from your body. He forced his gaze up to the ceiling to keep from staring. Something felt wrong. Was this a dream? Was he dead?

Din didn’t trust the world around him.

You startled awake. A cloud of panic and fear drowning you.

“Mando!?” The nickname left your lips before you even registered a thought. You scrambled to sit up, arms reaching out to try and find purchase, but it was too dark to see anything.  Even without your sight, something felt familiar about the material under your body and the comforting smell surrounding you, but the last memory of the smugglers dropping the spice bomb had too much adrenaline rushing through your body for you to think properly. 

The wall in front of you shot up with a metallic click and a light blinded you. Hands grabbed your calves and you screamed again trying to kick them off. “Mesh’la! You’re safe!” Mando’s modulated voice filled the air. “You’re on the Razor Crest. You’re in my bunk.”

Your eyes adjusted to the light and you recognized your setting. That’s why it was familiar. Mando’s scent surrounded you as you were nestled in the blankets and pillow he used to sleep. Standing at the bunk’s entrance was the Mandalorian himself. He looked unharmed, but he always looked unharmed when he was covered from head to toe in his beskar.

“Mando!” You cried in alarm and launched yourself at him. He didn’t complain when you wrapped your arms around him tightly. Mando simply held onto you and kept you from knocking him over. This should be awkward considering how he had bluntly said he felt nothing for you only weeks ago. But, you were so relieved that he was safe and alive that you didn’t care. His hands rubbed your back soothingly as he mumbled soft reassurances. “I thought you⏤ I thought we⏤”

“We’re safe, mesh’la.” Mando replied.

You leaned back and he kept his arms around you. “What happened? The last thing I remember…” It hurt to try and pull the memory out of your own head. Spice bomb. Red dust had rained over you and Mando. You passed out on top of him. “The⏤The bomb.”

“It knocked you out.” Mando said. “My helmet filtered it out, I think. I woke up with you on top of me and the smugglers were climbing down. We fought. I won. Then I carried you back to Peli’s.”

“All of that happened?”

“We’re in hyperspace now.”

“How,” You shook your head, “How long was I out?”

“Two days. The spice hit your systems hard. I was⏤” Mando cleared his throat, the sound scratchy through the modulator. “I was worried about you, mesh’la.”

It was only then you realized you still had your hands resting on his shoulders and he had his own wrapped around your waist as you sat on your knees⏤ the bunk making the two of you eye level. You swallowed nervously. “I, uh, it was you I was worried about. Your head. I thought I saw blood when you were out cold.”

“Small injury. Only took one round of bacta to clear up.”

“Good.”

“You, on the other hand,” Mando mumbled. He brushed his gloved fingers across your face. The touch lingered on your cheekbone. The same one that had hit the ground hard enough to make your face throb. Mando pulled his other hand away to wrap around your non-bruised and non-swollen wrist. How much bacta had he used to get all your injuries healed in two days? “Mesh’la, I am so sorry.”

You shook your head. “None of that was your fault.”

Mando kept quiet, as if he didn’t agree but didn’t know what else to say. The sound of a soft coo made you lean forward and peer around the edge of the bunk where Grogu was standing by the ladder leading up to the cockpit. He lifted his arms and waddled closer. Mando released you to pick the small child up. Grogu whined until Mando set him in your lap and you didn’t hesitate to cuddle the boy to your chest.

Thank the Maker, he hadn’t been with the two of you. You let out another sigh of relief. It seemed like you and Mando had gotten out of the pit by luck alone and you don’t know what you would’ve done if Grogu had been harmed during the whole thing.

“Here. Let’s get you some food.” Mando set a hand on your elbow to help you slide out of the bunk. What caught you off guard was when he let his hand travel from your arm to your lower back as he led you toward the ladder. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his entire frame. Mando was a good man. It wasn’t the shiny, silver metal of a Mandalorian you were attracted to or the reputation of a dangerous and strong bounty hunter. You had fallen for the kind and protective man who hid under both of those roles. Mando’s head turned to stare back at you and a thrill went down your spine. He whispered your name.

You took a step away and cleared your throat. Mando let his arm fall away. Your obsession with him, your stupid idiotic crush on him, had you misreading signals left and right. The only reason you had confessed was because you convinced yourself that he was shooting you lingering looks and that every brush of his hand against you was purposeful and not a mistake made in passing. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. Mando had made his position clear, and you were done crossing the lines and boundaries he had set.

“Can you get up to the flight deck alright?” Mando asked and you nodded. “I’ll bring you something to eat.”

Mando tilted his head toward the ladder and he waited until you began to climb⏤ as if he was worried you’d fall off mid-way up. When you got upstairs, you settled into the co-pilot’s chair with Grogu in your lap and stared out at the blurring lines of hyperspace. A small smile settled on your features.

The world around you was right again.

Din felt more like himself once he had his armor on. It still felt like the world around him was spinning and nothing made sense, but his beskar was like a heavy, impenetrable comfort blanket. He sat in a kitchen, helmet on, as he stared out at Sundari through a window that sat near a dining table. It seemed the home around him was part of a tower inside the domed city, and Din still couldn’t wrap his brain around that. The sound of footsteps startled him and he turned in time to see you padding down the hall with Grogu in your arms. He pushed to stand⏤ seeing the small child putting him at ease.

“Why do you have your helmet on?” You asked after handing Grogu to him. The child bounced in his arms chanting a recognizable sound asking for food. “Are you leaving already? Don’t you want breakfast?”

Din stayed quiet. You moved around the kitchen with the ease of someone who did this regularly, and he watched you make a meal. It didn’t make sense, he didn’t understand, but he couldn’t deny the attraction he felt toward you being so domestic. Especially after you had just claimed that he was your partner, your husband, your riduur.

“Come here, cutie.” You cooed to Grogu and he let you take the boy from him. You set him in a little high chair and set a bowl of food in front of him. As per usual, Grogu didn’t hesitate to begin scarfing down what was in front of him. You lovingly pressed a kiss to his head then walked over to lean at the corner of the kitchen island next to him. “Din, please talk to me.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “You’re starting to scare me.”

“I’m sorry, Mesh’la.” He sighed. 

You had shifted even closer to the bar stool he sat on. Din tensed when your hands settled on his thighs and you stepped between them. Slowly, you took his hand in yours and began to peel his gloves off. Din sucked in a breath, but couldn’t find a complaint to speak. You did the same thing with his other hand. Finally, your hands rested on his helmet, but you didn’t move. Not until Din gave a small nod. You pulled his helmet off carefully, respectfully resting it on the counter, and Din felt his features soften as he stared at you. Maker, you were beautiful.

“Din, listen to me, I love you.” You said. A pretty smile spread across your features and you took his face between your hands. “But if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I am going to kick your ass.” He chuckled and leaned into your touch. Was Din losing his mind? If this was insanity, it felt so good that Din really didn't think he minded. “Are you… Are you having one of your mornings?”

“One of my… mornings?” Din furrowed his brow.

“You know, when the nightmare doesn’t end.” You whispered.

Din shook his head. “This isn’t a nightmare. It’s a dream. A dream I don’t deserve.” He let his hands rest on top of yours with the plan to pull them away, but he was too weak to actually go through with it. Din sighed, “I lied to you.” A flash of confusion crossed your features. “I said I didn’t care about you in the same way you felt about me, but it was a lie. From the moment you stepped onto the Razor Crest I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. Mesh’la, you are my world.”

“Din, are you…” You paused then a small laugh left you, “Maker, are you talking about when we were trying to get to Mos Pelgo, still? I confessed to you and then we got caught weeks later and…” You shook your head. “Don’t scare me like that. When you said you were sorry and you lied, I was worried something had happened. It’s just a bad morning. They always pass.”

“What are you talking about?” Din asked.

“Fine. I’ll jump start your memory.” You pushed up on your tiptoes and then sat on his thigh. Naturally, his hands went around your waist to keep you from falling and your hands wrapped around his neck. “You confessed to me. It happened months later. You’re an incredible bounty hunter, but you move slow as hell, Din.” He narrowed his eyes. “It was right after we decided to keep Grogu with us. Become a real family. For the record, it also took you way too long to propose to me too.”

Din could picture it all and it made everything so much more confusing. Had that happened? No. Not yet. Yet? Had he meant to think of that word? Yet? Din wasn’t planning any of that, but it sounded right. No part of him thought he deserved you or Grogu, but Maker this was what he always wanted. It was the life he craved, but was too broken to admit aloud. 

“But,” Din tried to find a tether to hold him in reality, “Sundari. We live in Sundari? Mandalore is dead.”

“No, it wasn’t. The poison the Empire caused faded away. We rebuilt.” The sound of a door chime made you glance over your shoulder. “Kriff. She’s here early.” You slid off his lap. “Grogu, we’re gonna be late! Let’s get you cleaned up so Soran can walk you to school.”

Din watched you scoop Grogu up, the boy gave him a wave he returned numbly, and the two of you disappeared down the hall. Were his fears the reason he was confused? What if what you said was right? He was just trapped in a nightmare and it was keeping him from living his life. Din had finally taken the leap, taken the chance, and found his perfect home. Now, his fear was crawling back and trying to ruin it again. Din always did this. He always fought himself. It was why he had denied your initial confession and wasted so much time in the first place.

Moments passed, he could hear you moving around the home with Grogu. Until finally the door chime rang again. Din stood up and faced the hall. Seconds later, you stepped back into view. You gave him a bright smile. 

“Alright, where were we?”

Fully accepting this for what it was, Din marched toward you. Your feet came to a stuttering stop and an excitement filled your eyes. You knew what he was doing before even he knew entirely. Din basically tackled you, pressing your body as tight as he could to his chest, and crushed his lips to yours. You responded immediately. Your hands wrapping around his neck as his tongue found it’s way past your lips. Din let his hands trail down your back, over your ass, under your thighs, and with ease began to pick you up. Just like with the kiss, you were on the same page as he was. You jumped just enough for him to lift you off the ground and your legs wrapped around his waist⏤ locking your ankles at his back. 

Din had planned to carry you down the hall, back to the bedroom, but he felt you grind against him and that plan went right out the window. He slammed you against the wall, lips leaving yours to trail down your neck. Maker, he wanted you. Keeping you pinned to the wall with his hips, relying on your grip around his waist and neck, Din pulled his hands away so he could grab the collar of your shirt. He ripped it down to the middle of your torso so his mouth could reach your breasts.

“I liked that shirt, you know.” You gasped, but the way you kept trying to find friction against his hard on told him you didn’t like it all that much.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” Din replied before leaving open mouth kisses down your chest. One hand went back to cup around your thigh and the other yanked your breast band down so his mouth could wrap around your nipple. The unholy moan that left your lips nearly made him come undone right then and there.

“You’re going to be late to work. They need you today.”

“Mesh��la, I don’t kriffing care.” Din said after pulling his lips away from your breast. His mouth found its way back to yours and after leaving a messy kiss there he pulled away only far enough to speak. “As far as I’m concerned the only place I’m needed is right between your thighs.” 

Din licked into your mouth, and he was startled when your hands untangled from around his neck. Then, with great proficiency, you began to unlatch his armor. His vambrace and left pauldron fell to the ground with a heavy thunk. “How did you do that so fast? How’d you know where the latches were?”

“I’m your wife, dummy.” You unlatched his right one, it joined the other on the floor, then you ripped the cloak out from under the top of his chest piece and pulled down on the collar of his shirt so you could leave too soft, teasing kisses against the hollow of his throat. “Now, either keep carrying me down the hall to our bed or drop me on the floor⏤ I don’t care, I just need you to fuck me.”

Din was not going to make it to the bedroom.

You rose from your seat with Grogu nestled in your arms sleeping. It hadn’t taken long for the boy to fall asleep between the warmth of your arms and the silence of hyperspace. As you drifted toward the door, Mando spoke up.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna put him in his hammock is all.” You whispered.

Mando glanced over his shoulder at you then nodded. “Good. Come back up when you’re done.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise but you gave him a quiet confirmation before leaving the cockpit. You made your way down the ladder slowly and carefully so you didn’t wake or drop the little green gremlin snoring against your chest. You chuckled and rubbed his back while crossing the cargo hold. When you set him in the hammock, he stirred briefly and you took the time to lightly rock the hammock while humming him a lullaby. Only when you were convinced he had fallen back into a restful sleep did you find your way back to the cockpit.

“He’s down for the count.” You joked and dropped back into your chair.

Mando flipped a few switches on the panel before spinning the pilot’s seat so he was facing you. Your eyes widened and you shifted awkwardly in place. The weight of his heavy stare on you was intense. It burned into you and for a brief second you were sure he could see straight into your soul.

“What’s going on?” You asked. “You okay?”

“I could’ve lost you.” Mando whispered. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“It’s over, Mando. We don’t have to think about it anymore.”

“It’s not over, mesh’la. There will always be another fight, another opportunity for someone to take you from me.” He argued. 

Mando wasn’t wrong. Your lives were a constant battle to maintain the upper hand over all the people trying to take Grogu and harm both of you. It was the exact reason why you had found the courage to confess to him in the first place. You stupidly convinced yourself that you didn’t want to lose anymore time⏤ waste another second. The silence in the cockpit was agonizing. You wanted so badly to break it, but you had no idea what to say to do so.

Luckily, Mando did not have that same problem.

“Come here, mesh’la.” He motioned you toward him with the curling motion of his fingers. You swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in the middle of your throat like a rock. “Please.” The word was spoken softly, but there was a firm undertone that made it feel less like a request and more like a command. You stood up and took the single shaky step that was required to put you in his reach. Mando’s hands found your hips and he startled you by pulling you into his lap. With a yelp of surprise, you were forced to rest your knees on the outside of his thighs. The moment you were situated Mando spread his own thighs further so each of your legs were pinned between him and the chair and you were even more open to him. “Oh, sweet girl…”

“Mando. What⏤ What are you doing?” You whispered. Your entire face felt hot⏤ kriff, every inch of you felt hot.

He shook his head, his hands roaming up and down your sides, “I never should have said no to you. What happened, it made me realize how much,” Mando raised a gloved hand to your face, “how much I care about you.”

“Wait, really?” You breathed. It was the stupidest kind of response to give and you hated that you just blurted it out. Mando chuckled in response, and you shook your head. “Mando, maybe you’re just… feeling this way because what happened was so fresh. We should give it a little time⏤”

“I spent two days waiting for you to open those pretty eyes for me, sweet girl.” Mando cut in. “I’m not losing another second with you.”

The hand fell from your face to rest on your shoulder and, with the other still on your hip, Mando pressed you down on top of him. He shifted his own hips so he could drag the hard bulge in his pants against your core. A sharp gasp of surprise left your lips. Mando kept you pressed against him and when he dragged his hip against yours again the sensation caused you to groan this time.

“Dank farrik.” Mando grunted as he bucked up against you⏤ this time you moved your own hips to add to the friction and he moaned. The sound of him losing control shot straight to your core and you let your hands rest on his chest so you could grind into him more. Maker, you wanted to hear that sound again.

Mando sat up straight and the only thing keep you from tumbling off his lap was the hand he wrapped around your waist. He reached past you, hands hitting switches and buttons, and suddenly the entire panel of flickering lights went dead. “Mando?” You questioned. He hit one more switch and you glanced over your shoulder to watch as the windows darkened until the lights of hyperspace couldn’t be seen. Nothing could be seen. A hiss of pressure release, then a hand took hold of your jaw to turn you back so you faced forward.

“Mesh’la.” Mando whispered. Before you had only heard his unmodulated voice from a distance, as he was eating out of sight or lying in his bunk with the door closed. But, now it was closer than you could ever imagine. He mumbled your name and you could feel the movement of his lips just barely brushing against yours⏤ his hot breath on your face. “Say you want me, mesh’la.”

You took in a deep breath and nodded. “I want you, Mando. I’ve always wanted you.”

Rather than pressing his lips to yours as you wanted, Mando lifted you with ease and pressed you against the control panel. Something sharp was jabbing you in the back, but you didn’t care. Mando’s leather gloves roughly yanked your pants down, underwear and all. You had lifted your hips just enough to help him, but when you lowered yourself back into a seated position you hissed at the cold metal against your bare skin. 

You lifted your hands to find his shoulders, you wanted to feel his face, but Mando’s hands grabbed you by the wrists and pinned them to the panel by your head. He leaned over you and slowly dragged his hard cock, hidden behind his flight suit, against your already dripping wet lips⏤ but it wasn’t the only lips you wanted touched.

“Kiss me, please.” You begged and tried to lift your head to find his, but he leaned back just enough to avoid you. “Mando, I want to feel you⏤ all of you⏤ please.”

“Not yet, mesh’la. Be patient.” His entire weight was pressing down on you. “Good girls are patient, and only good girls get rewarded. Is that what you want, mesh’la? To be my good girl?” You nodded, breathless from the agonizingly slow way he was grinding into you. “Words, mesh’la.”

“Yes.” You gasped. “Please, Mando, please⏤”

“How lucky am I?” Mando hummed. “To have such a pretty girl begging under me. I’ve wanted to make you fall apart since the moment you stepped onto my ship.” You tensed as an alarm began to faintly ring at the back of your mind. Something inside you was trying to warn you. Mando kept whispering loving words on top of you. “You’re mine, mesh’la. You’ve always been mine and you always will be.”

“No.” You tried to squirm out from under him, but Mando was much too large and much too heavy for you to even move an inch. “No, no, no.”

Taking the hint, Mando released your hands and jumped away from you. Breathless, you tried to sit up and gather your bearings. “What is it, mesh’la? What’s wrong?”

“This is wrong.” You shook your head.

“No, it’s right. This is what you want, this is what I want.”

“No, it’s not.” A sob left you. “You don’t want me. You said so yourself. You don’t want me. This isn’t right.” Your head was beginning to pound in pain and Mando’s voice sounded like it was suddenly far away. The cold metal under you was beginning to turn hot and the firm smoothness of the control panel was taking on a new texture⏤ something grainy that shifted under you. The darkness turned to a blinding light and you gasped as pain began to settle into you.

Your face was throbbing, you tasted blood in your mouth, and your right wrist was aching. Now you had a pounding headache as well.  You blinked your eyes, trying to clear the blurriness out of your vision, and you saw a man climbing down a ladder into the pit you laid in. The smugglers. The spice bomb. Your hand tightened around the blaster you had taken from Mando and you lifted your heavy arm to fire at the man. It hit him in the back and he fell from the ladder and landed motionless only a few feet away.

You blindly fired shots up to the ridge of the pit. Over and over⏤ not knowing what else to do. You fired so much that you never noticed the sound of someone else’s blaster mingling with yours. A familiar voice was calling out to you, but it wasn’t Mando. Your heavy arm sunk back into the sand, blaster falling loose, and your eyes began to droop in exhaustion.

You wished it was Mando calling for you.

You woke up slowly. Your entire body was sore and it took straight willpower to get your eyes to stay open. There was a thin cot underneath you and a flickering fire ahead of you. A groan fell from your lips as you tried to sit up.

“Whoa, whoa,” A familiar voice said, “Slow down there, little lady.”

“Vanth?” You tried to turn to find your friend, but a warm hand kept you from moving too much. Suddenly, Cobb Vanth was kneeling beside you with a charming grin. Your entire body sagged in relief. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now.”

Vanth rubbed his jawline and gave you a wink, “I am much better looking than those damned smugglers, huh? How’d you and Mando get caught up in all that mess?”

“Mando!” You sat up quickly, immediately wincing when a sharp pain shot through you.

“Maker, darling.” Vanth scolded. “Your tin man is doing just fine. He’ll feel just as shitty as you when he finally wakes up.”

You glanced around and just as Vanth said your companion was lying on a small rolled out cot of his own. The firelight dancing as it reflected off his beskar. “He’s really okay? I think he had a head injury.”

“He’s fine. I promise you.” You nodded and Vanth offered you a canteen of water. As he asked, you began to tell him the story of what happened. It didn’t take long until you reached the point of the story that made your cheeks warm. Vanth noticed your hesitance and bumped his shoulder into yours. “Say your piece.”

“They threw a spice bomb and… and some weird shit happened.”

“Yeah, a spice bomb will do that to you.”

“What is it?”

“Depends. What’d you see?”

You paused before shrugging. “I was on the Razor Crest. Traveling with Mando and Grogu. Like always. It was… it felt so real.”

“Probably glitterstim then.” Vanth made you drink more water. “I have no idea how you broke out of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The drug should’ve put you under. Place you in a happy haze of the thing you want most and trap you there for as long as the drug runs its course. Too much and you can end up dying in that perfect little world.” Vanth explained. “Usually, you can’t get out unless someone hits you with an antidote. Something to cancel the effects of the glitterstim. Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless you shock yourself out of it.” Vanth shrugged. “It all happens quick. In the first few minutes you either fall into the spice’s trap or you snap through it. The fact that I saw you wake up and shoot that smuggler is quite the feat, darling. How’d you do it?”

You wrapped your arms around your legs and rested your chin on your knees. The drug in your system deemed your perfect world to be Mando confessing how badly he wanted you. How pathetic was that? You didn’t stay under because even in a drugged out haze your mind knew that it was fake. Mando didn’t want you. Not the way you wanted him. Tears filled your eyes. Vanth didn’t press for you to answer and instead set his arm around your shoulder as a comfort. You leaned into him and fell asleep.

Every single part of Din’s body hurt. It reminded him of when the mudhorn had tossed him around like a ragdoll. Every atom in his body though, despite the pain, screamed danger. Din forced himself to sit up, blaster drawn. He was in the desert, by a fire in the dead of night. Across from him, he saw Cobb Vanth sitting there casually. Din’s blaster was pointed at him, but Vanth just gave him a slight wave.

“Hey there, brother.” He greeted. “You can put the blaster away.”

“What⏤” Din began to ask, but then his eyes landed on you. Your head rested against Vanth’s thigh and he had one hand resting on your shoulder. Part of your face looked bruised and even from this distance he could see your busted lip.

“Smugglers got the jump on y’all. Hit you with a spice bomb.” Din holstered his blaster and cursed. Dank farrik. Whispers of his dream world lingered in his mind and Din had to shake his head to try and rid himself of the way your lips felt against his skin. “You’re lucky.”

“This is lucky?” Din asked dryly. Maker, his body ached. 

“Little lady here broke free of the spice dream.” Vanth said. Din’s eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t know what he wanted to know more⏤ what your perfect world had looked like or how you had broken out of it. Vanth’s hand was tracing shapes on your shoulder as you slept and Din frowned at the touch. Coming from an imaginary world where he was fucking you, his wife, to reality where you were sleeping against another man was jarring. “You got stuck in it. Tell me, Mando, what was your perfect world?”

You were. You were his perfect world.

But, Din couldn’t bring himself to admit that in his current reality. 

[anantaru]

POWER AND WEAKNESS

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — kamisato ayato, a man who, from the outside, appeared to be both a gentleman and a playboy alike, yet from the inside, he was anything but that, because in reality he was inexperienced and without skill, yet full of need.

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — happy birthday handsome ayato, one of the prettiest characters from hit game genshin impact <3

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 1.4k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, ma.sturbation, heavily fantasizing about you + perv ayato & virgin & inexperienced ayato, touch starved and needy ayato

kamisato ayato, who was said to be unequalled in his own presumably unnoticed play.

he— like none other, was undoubtably aware of the graven power he held in his hands, that it doesn‘t need more than a short lived glance of his to have someone on their knees for him. it's his unfaltering favorite to see it happening before his eyes.

he gets it, behind that pretty smile he sees it too, that his polished charm was an important utilizer, a weapon of sorts.

a lot of things can‘t be talked about nor said out loud, predominantly that in point of fact kamisato ayato was the complete opposite of the frequent rumors circulating around inazuma city.

it‘s got to be quite comical on how they had been spread around out of nowhere, largely from silent admirers, devotees and fanatics— yet quite frankly, he never looked into it too much nor does he actually care or give a damn at all.

but it's presumably said that he was never without company at night, and indeed, he always engaged in sexual delight, relishing in temporal relief in between a full-packed work schedule.

an insatiable man that rarely revealed his true nature before anyone— ayato was like a book without pages— his intuitions, his beliefs and feelings had no beginning and no end, you dare to look into his eyes and it's all pitch black like a void, anchored deep with an attached secret to every question.

well, in some ways he did open up to you and to that, you were aware that ayato wasn't how everyone had sternly pictured him in their mind. For you, he was just ayato, a close friend that barely had time to get some genuine sleep in, let alone meet up with you in person for quick lunch or a cup of sakura bloom tea, though, the people of inazuma obviously weren't aware of that, plus— the idea of a mysterious young man was clearly more appetizing to the public.

evidently, that didn't mean that ayato didn't have his own needs and fulfillments to be met, he was a human too, with cravings— and him being a virgin was one of the many secrets no one would be able to tickle out of him— not even you; especially not you.

to the core, his troubled psyche was doing that again, thinking about how it felt— to be stimulated and pleased, to have his large cock down someones throat for the first time and feel the infamous constriction, the room smelling of sex and sweat, the tight sensation and the glazed eyes when he lessens his head. maybe have them eagerly gulp and repeatedly choke on his length until he sees more visible tears locked through their eyes, messily powdered around their lashes just like the dozen amount of saliva drizzling down their chin.

oh, what a dirty but sweet memory— not to mention that it was about you of all people, it's mostly once he gets home from work, exhausted and worn out, comfortably dropping onto the large bed with every sweltering muscle in his body burning and aching from his habits of overworking himself until he's on the brink of passing out.

ayato's facial expression drastically changes into a soft, pleased tint once he's alone, without anyone to witness him doing something out of the ordinary.

the way he desired you, he shakes his head, the sheer effect you had on him, he shakes his head again and damn it, why won't you leave his mind? right when he was attempting to close his eyes and sleep, he sighs— he's tired and he didn't like it, his eyes were practically falling shut on their own and it was taxing but you were still the one who repeatedly invaded his thoughts, sneakily taking undeviating charge over his brain.

he can feel himself become harder and the little sharpened throbs in his pants were met in a series of quivering aches and spasms— though what was happening right now came from purely his own creations, sure, it's what would always happen when he thought about you.

his cock stirs and he experimentally places his hand on top of his bulge, just to— get a little tension out of it, no, not now, he won't do anything else. he should go to sleep and wake up fresh for the next day that was most definitely going to be as exhausting as the previous one.

another rub and his hand travels further, ayato heaves a pitchy whine and completes it with a silent moan when applying more strength, closing his eyes when he desperately shapes his cock through his garments— yes, he was desperate, and he calls your name for the first time now as it dripped over him like the finest, most sweetest honey, vibrating from the tip of his tongue. he traces the outline of his cock and then moves his hips up, concentrating on his lower muscles and imagining your puffy clit— anything to get this swiftly over with so he can head to bed and get some sleep in.

"curses!" ayato hisses through his snagged jaw before unlatching his pants, once again defeated by his sinful wish. he drops his eyes to see his cock convulse around nothing but fake and lewd fantasies, "this is what you're doing to me." and his voice— so gravelly but sharp when ayato pulls his hand up to spit on his palm while tousling down his garments to free his pulsating cock.

he gives himself slow, circular motions and kneads his saliva on the tip, sliding down. despite the obvious desperation bedaubed on his face, ayato still took his time with this— if he came this far he might as well just end it most effectively.

a deep, lowered grunt illicit over his lips before he runs his thumb over the slit and he leans back into the silken cushions to seal his eyes, so he could enjoy in the unexperienced sloppy guides of his hand fisting his cock.

he closes his eyes, he sees you, he falls asleep, he sees you. his mind fabricates your bare, exposed body, moulding and shaping you before his spectral eyes and it haunts him, dearly— he can't fathom this enough, because he doesn't want to feel this way for someone he considers a close friend, but maybe, only maybe, if he lets you invade his mind, maybe then he will actually take the opportunity and be at peace with his developed feelings for you.

ayato bites down on his bottom lip to suppress a dragged tone and he hauls his arm over his face as he turned up his tempo, his erection throbbing inside the rigid grasps of his hand. It's overwhelming and he found himself on the brink of cumming already, how embarrassing, he mutters beneath his shaded moans.

it’s almost tragic how he marvels in his fantasies, imagining its you down there, pleasing him, and ayato wonders how you looked, or tasted. your puffy pussy must be so soft, slicked up with cream and he wants to lap his tongue over the pillowy folds, just once, until your liquids are dribbling down his throat while his nose drums into your clit and his tongue fucks your sticky cunt— airing out the prettiest pants from your lungs.

"how pretty." ayato muses and smiles to himself, fucked out when he swallows thickly at the bubbling bump in his stomach thudding deeper. how much he wants to continue this but ayato wasn't sure on how to deny himself, it's embarrassing but he never did it before, well he tried but, ultimately failed.

how much he wanted you to show him how it's done and then apply it to you afterwards, perhaps control your orgasm until you're most definitely screaming his name, again and again, before your vocals were aching and sniffling but he won't ever stop, not before the entirety of inazuma city would be fully aware that you're his, that it's him doing this to you.

"mhm." the built up snap in his abdomen sent him into a spiral of euphoria and when he cums, he quickly parts his thighs to jerk into his hand wetly and faster, the joints of his fingers sleeved up in sticky whites and slicking him entirely, running down his spent cock.

"please." he pleads in a haze— almost as if he forgot his surroundings and the place he was in.

ayato was indeed, thoroughly fucked out— the yashiro commissioner, on the outside so handsome, sophisticated and clean, but on the inside, well, that’s a story that would be harder to explain.

he laughs, breathlessly, "fuck—" and pouts with your name slipping from his tongue, "this is what you do to me love— over and over."

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[running-with-kn1ves]

Hi! What do you think would happen if there was a disease that turned people into yanderes and the reader is immune? So she’s the only sane one, which everyone around her falls in love (romantically and platonically) and turns obsessive?

Hrmm I'd like to take a different approach to this than the original *yandere apocolypse* of which I was thinking. Just wrote down some odd thoughts for this one!

Perhaps two thirds of the world has been inflicted with this specific disease-- making this new population become violent, deranged and utterly--obsessively, in love.

There's the beginning stages of violence and death of course, causing a great chunk of the world to go mad as some yanderes who must share a darling cannot do so. Celebrities, idols, and your local barista who's friends with everyone in town, are constantly in a tug of war battle between their yanderes.

But life seems to somewhat settle down. Everyone still functions as they would in society-- going to the bank and paying their taxes, remaining at their 9 to 5 jobs. But there are far more murders, laws are no longer followed; the daytime has become just as dangerous as the night.

Our dear reader, a cashier for a chain grocery store, has so blessedly not been affected by this newfound disease. They know their residence in a large city and with a social job would not leave them unharmed by this new change to the world. So, they begin to attend support groups for 'darlings,' the victims and (mostly) sane population that has been left. At first the other victims were people they had never seen before, seemingly innocent and normal people who just wanted to go on with their lives. They all seemed to lead a much harder living, with their unending stalkers and vicious pursuers that made them sob for hours as everyone else listened to their woes.

Reader had yet to be targeted, of which offers them a sliver of relief-- until they fear perhaps they have been affected by the disease. But their life continues, without any impulse or desire to snatch anyone up, and without any stalkers or murderers on their trail. Life is almost, weirdly, normal.

They don't watch the news anymore, they go home before it gets dark, and refuse to take any extra shifts with anyone who's been affected by the outbreak. They continue to go to the meetings, out of solidarity and precaution in case they begin to hear footsteps behind them when walking from home or find eyes peeping behind their curtains. However, the support group seemed to have slowly begun to change. Its regular members were beginning to dwindle, less and less showing up regularly. And, there seemed to be an addition of.... hostility, amongst the newer members.

The support group "leader", a man who has thrown reader off since day one, seemed to be far more invested in hearing their experiences with these "attackers" as he called them. As was everyone else, of which were slowly becoming vaguely familiar faces. Not familiar enough to mention it, but to the point where it was beginning to get eerie.

It wasn't until they went to their next shift for work, did they realize why everyone seemed so odd. Customer after customer came up, all purchasing odds and ends that could be suspicious if one paid close enough attention. But all that reader could focus on, was how the eyes of each person seemed to linger upon them, taking notice of their loose work shirt and unkempt hair. It was a common sound to hear heavy breathing from the other side of the counter, odd compliments on how beautiful their eyes were, or deafening silence from customers that didn't utter a word but stared in complete captivity. The next support group meeting, those nameless faces seemed to be far more recognizable. At this point, the original members of which reader had originally met, were nowehere to be found. All that remained, were the uncomfortably familiar customers, and the oddly charismatic leader.

Every eye seemed to be on them, each waiting for them to speak on their experience. But despite the creepy, lustful gazes and hateful glares at one another, there was some form of supportiveness that came from the group. They gave reassuring pats and squeezes, some getting a little handsier than others.

There were a few that reader recognized more than others: the silent, dark haired man that came to their register everyday, the businesswoman who always seemed to loosen her scowl once she saw them, and the couple who seemed a tad more than "friendly." Out of all of them though, reader felt the most reassurance from the group leader-- the man who seemed to dote on them like a parent would, though there was still fear over his constantly nagging questions and downward stare behind his glasses.

It was once reader decided to stop showing up to the increasingly more recent group sessions, did things start to turn sideways. There would constantly be a knock at the door, asking why they weren't there, if something was wrong, if a stalker had gotten to them. But it wasnt until recently did they feel they were being watched, followed, stalked.

Things started to go missing, from their favorite pair of underwear to little knickknacks kept on their desk. Reader had never felt the effects of the disease and its victims, but ever since the uncomfortable shift in the support group, life hadn't been the same.

One fateful afternoon, there came another series of knocks. Reader couldn't take it anymore, and had long given up on answering the door. The knocking continued, however. Thered be a pause, a moment of hesitation, before the pounding began again. Muffled voices could be heard outside readers front door, and suddenly there grew a great fear in their chest.

Not long after, the knocking seemed to occur in other areas around the house. The backdoor echoed as glass was banged on, the windows of their bedroom seemingly pressured by fists that begged to be let in. Their name was called from outside, small and booming voices all begging to be let in, promising that they were only there to help.

Reader covered their ears, crawling under the blankets and rocking themselves to the hope that the noise would go away. And eventually, It did-- only to be replaced with the sound of shattering glass and rushed footsteps.

[alpaca-clouds]

Let me talk Church and the Revolution

Okay, let me post this preemptively. Because I already know that soon enough those people looking for reasons to hate on Castlevania Nocturne because it is not like the games will also come to cry a river about "they depict the church as evil!!!!"

So, let me quickly talk about the role of the church in the French Revolution. Because there is something you gotta understand about the Church during the French revolution: That there was not THE Church.

Basically within the Catholic church in France there was a fracture over the entire revolution happening. A lot of the higher ranked clergy men stood on the side of the nobles and royals, while a lot of the lower ranked clergymen stood with the revolutionaries. The reason behind that mostly was money.

See, before the revolution the church was allowed to collect taxes themselves, while also being tax exempt. So they did not have to pay taxes on all the stuff they sold and made to the nobility. Which was why the bishops and general higher ups within the church could have the lavish lifestyle of nobility themselves, often of course ignoring their vows.

Meanwhile a lot of lower clergy (and especially certain groups of monks - especially the franciscans) were like: "We are all equal in the eyes of god. Rich folks do not get into heaven. Equality is what god wanted from us" and supported the revolution because of it.

But of course there was also the thing that the show mentioned: Given the show is set in summer it seems (probably just before the Reign of Terror) it would have been not even a year before that a lot of clergy got slaughtered. Why did they get slaughtered?

Well, short explanation: Royalists and also some of the bishops provoked the war with Prussia in an attempt to overthrow the revolutionary forces with the help of the Prussian military. This of course failed and the revolutionaries were out for blood. So nobles fled into the churches for sanctuary. And in retaliation a lot of clergy died for haboring the nobles in question.

And, yeah. There is of course the other aspect: The church at the time for a lot of historcal and religious reasons very much supported slavery. Meanwhile this is already a point where the revolution at large had decided that slavery should be done away with. And that leads to what we see in the show here: Clergy going on about the revolution being against "the natural order".

(Being frank: I LOVE that they brought this into the show. Which is almost like a whole other thing I could write about. The entire idea of the revolution and the "natural order" and how it is all linked to colonialism.)

Another interesting part here is the order the abbot and Mizrak are from. On the Castlevania discord server I already went into a whole thing trying to figure that out, but my last idea was right: They are from the Knights Hospitaller. The order of St. John.

This order arose during the crusades and as the name Knights Hospitaller suggests: Yeah, they mostly created hospitals (though historically those were not only to cure the sick, but also to be a home - "hospitality" - for those on the road). They were based in Jerusalem for a while, but ended up moving to Malta, which was of course for a long while ruled by France. They referenced here that the Abbot came to France from Malta, which is the reason.

But yeah, they actually were about helping people for the most part. But they also made money from it. And when the revolution came, they seized all the assets from the order, which made the order join into the ranks of clergy who stood against the revolution by 1792.

[cl3fairyyy]

routine : part 2 || edward nashton x GN!reader ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

summary || you and edward finally go on a date

warnings || eddie is a liiiittle more stalker-y in this one, smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of edward following reader home and just overall being his strange little self, this fic does get a little suggestive (no actual smut) so please MDNI!!!! i think that's everything, if i forgot anything i am so sorry </3 this fic is mostly just fluff with a side of awkward first date small talk

word count || 4.5k

notes || i am so sorry for the long wait on part 2!! been having the worst writers block of my life and my job has been taking over my life atm </3 but it is finally here!! i had so much fun writing this one, definitely thinking of doing a part 3 if u guys want it :)) apologies if at any point eddie is too OOC, he's definitely a little more confident in this one hehe. also this pic of paul is EXACTLY how I imagined him looking while writing this

You arrive back at your dingy apartment later than you had planned and, admittedly, a lot tipsier than you had wanted to be.  

You shove your key into the crappy broken lock that your landlord refuses to fix and jiggle it around for several moments until you finally hear a click. Opening the door, you sway on your feet a little before stumbling over to the couch, kicking the door shut behind you; when you plop down on the velvety throw you use to cover up the horrible cracking leather of your equally horrible sofa, you sigh and throw your head back, allowing a smile to play onto your face.  

He had asked you on a date.  

You keep replaying the interaction in your head, mentally swooning at how Edward had lit your cigarette for you, how he had been so close that you could smell the laundry detergent on his clothes. You giggle like a schoolgirl, hugging one of your cushions as you fish around in your bag for your phone. You have to suppress a giddy squeal when you are greeted with not one, but three messages from a random number, one you can only guess belongs to Edward. You feel dizzy unlocking your phone, and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or your nerves.  

Hi, it’s Edward. I hope you have a lovely rest of your night.  

I really liked talking to you today. You’re a very interesting person.  

Are you okay? It's late, did you get home safe?  

It takes everything in you to not dreamily sigh like you’re in a fucking rom-com. He's concerned about me, you think, typing a reply with a lopsided smile on your face.  

hiii yes im fine!! just made it home : )  

im vry drunk lol  

Immediately the grey typing bubble pops up and you launch your phone across the room, scrambling to the fridge to open the half-empty bottle of slightly too expensive rosé that you have been saving for the next time you rewatch Fleabag.   

You hear your phone ding twice and gingerly pick it up from underneath the coffee table, your hands shaking.  

Oh, good to hear that you’re safe haha. I was about to head back to the bar to see if you were okay.  

That was a joke by the way.  

You can’t stop a smile from spreading across your face. You take a swig from the bottle and begin typing.  

yea im sure it was lol  

it was nowhere near as interesting after u left. u were in such a hurry too are u ok??  

Edward’s cheeks grow red when he reads your second message. You think he’s interesting? Are you hinting that you would’ve preferred if he stayed?  

Wish I could have stayed for a bit longer haha, just had some work at home that I couldn’t get my mind off, so wanted to take another crack at it.  

Obviously, he can’t tell you that his work isn’t just some simple tax fraud, but a potential money laundering scandal that ties all the way back to Maroni and your own boss. He knows at this point, though, that you’re too polite to question him.  

u sure do work a lot!!!! idk how u havent burnt out yet.   

try to get some rest if u can : ) its not like the work wont be there tmrw!!!!  

Edward smiles. You are so lovely to him; the idea that someone like you could show so much kindness to him makes his heart swell and his eyes fill with tears. A few run down the tip of his nose and plop onto his phone screen.  

I know, I know. Sometimes it feels like I can’t switch my brain off haha. It’s been in overdrive since I got home.  

He cringes at himself. Is he meant to text so formally? You're pretty much the only contact in his phone besides his landlord and the office. He glances down at his screen, noticing that you’ve read his message but haven’t started typing an answer, and immediately begins to panic.  

Of course someone like you couldn’t like him. He was a fool to think you were any different than anyone else in this shithole of a city. You’re probably still sat with your colleagues at that shitty bar, reading out his messages and all having a good old laugh at him. Everyone get a load of Nashton! you're probably saying, and he feels sick to his stomach.   

soso sorry my phone just died out of nowhere!!! i srsly did not mean to leave u on opened  

honestly i get u i can be like that. its probably worse for u tho bc ur so smart lol  

whats been sending the brain of eddie into overdrive tonight??  

Edward shakes his head at how silly he’s being. It would be funny if he didn’t feel so pathetic. He reads your messages over and over until his eyes burn; no one has ever given him a nickname before. Eddie. He rereads the nickname, trying to imagine how it would sound coming out of your mouth. His mind begins to wander, picturing you lying beneath him, bare chest heaving as you moan that name to him. Eddie.  

He's snapped out of his thoughts when his phone lights up again with a notification from his news app. He attempts to push down his building arousal before it completely clouds his mind, and scrambles for his phone to send you a reply.   

It’s a little embarrassing, but... I have been thinking non-stop about the conversation we had outside.  

I really would like to take you out, if you’ll let me. If you’d like to pick where we go so you feel more comfortable, I’m happy with that. I’m sure you know much nicer places to go than I do anyway haha.  

You squeal at your phone, kicking your feet in the air like a goddamn teenager. You hastily type a reply, and soon enough you’ve made plans for Sunday to go to a lovely downtown jazz club that plays live music. It's one of your favourite spots in the whole city.  

You fall asleep fairly quickly after throwing yourself on your bed still fully clothed. You don’t think twice about how bad your hangover will be when you wake up, instead picturing your date with Edward and just how lovely he is.  

Edward, on the other hand, stays up all night, his thoughts rife with anxiety. You'd had one conversation in a loud bar, and now he’s expected to keep you entertained for an entire evening? What if you didn’t find him interesting? What if he ran out of things to talk about? What if you stood him up entirely?  

He shakes his head, trying as hard as he can to shake the thoughts from his brain entirely. He opens your social media, which he has found himself doing every time he seems to be on the verge of a panic attack recently. He finds his favourite picture of you, a candid photo of you in a coffee shop mid-laugh, your eyes sparkling and cheeks rosy. He loves your smile in this picture.  

He hopes he can make you smile like that.  

Saturday goes by painfully slowly for you. The dragging hours aren’t helped by your awful hangover that seems to have convinced your brain that any slight movement will have you vomiting. You cringe rereading the messages you sent Edward the evening prior, hangxiety hitting you like a train.  

Eddie? Seriously?  

You have one conversation with the guy and have already started throwing nicknames around- you're in shock that you didn’t scare him off with how forward you were being. If he brings it up, you can always blame it on how drunk you were, which isn’t exactly a lie.  

He doesn’t text you until later in the evening, just a simple message confirming that you’re still on for tomorrow. You wonder if he’s as nervous as you are, if his anxiety manifests itself in the way he chews at his lower lip the same way you do.  

When Sunday finally rolls around, you wake up extra early to give yourself as much time to get ready as humanly possible. You would never admit it to anyone, but you’d picked out your outfit the night before and laid it on your desk chair, your nervous excitement barely allowing you to get a wink of sleep.   

Edward had offered to pick you up, but you really do not need him seeing the shithole you live in the first time he sees you outside of work. You both agree to meet outside the bar, and since it’s in walking distance from your apartment, you decide against getting a taxi.  

Gotham is strangely beautiful in March, the last moments of winter finally coming to fruition. The sun is just beginning to set when you step out into the chilly air, casting an orange glow on the old buildings and warming your cheeks against the cold.   

Edward’s heart races as he clumsily stumbles out of the subway station. He's almost twenty minutes early and grasps a cluster of lilies in one hand, the other of which he uses to steady himself against a lamppost. The lady from his favourite podcast whispers soothingly in his ear as he attempts to block out the loudness of the city and steady his breathing.  

“You are strong, and you are worthy. Be the change you want to see.”  

He closes his eyes, taking deep breaths before finally grounding himself. Edward is all too aware of how he must look right now: sweaty, clutching a bouquet of flowers while standing alone outside a bar. He glances at his watch. Still ten minutes until your meeting time.  

He tries to ignore the lump in his throat and the stinging in his eyes. You will show up. You have to.  

Edward jumps slightly when his phone chimes in his pocket. His heart drops when he realises it’s a text from you.  

so sorry!!! running a few mins late :/ decided to walk today and ofc that’s the day that every traffic light in the city decides to break LOL  

The light-hearted tone in your message doesn’t do much to comfort him. He types a short answer and sends it, trying to focus all of his energy on his podcast and not crying from how utterly terrified he is.  

Ten minutes after your initially agreed upon meeting time, Edward hears a voice shouting his name. He looks up to be met with the image of you practically sprinting down the street towards him. You pull to a stop in front of him, smoothing your hair down and smiling bashfully up at him. Christ, you forgot how tall he is.  

“Before you say anything, I am so sorry. First there was the traffic light thing, then one of my old college friends stopped me in the street and decided that she wanted to update me on every single day of the past three years of her life.”  

You breathe in heavily through your nose, your hands on your knees as you try and keep yourself from keeling over. You make a mental note to begin using that gym membership you keep renewing. Quitting smoking would probably help, too.  

You look up when Edward hasn’t responded for several moments, and his cheeks are very pink.  

“Look, you have every right to be pissed at me. If you want to cancel-”  

Before you can finish, Edward interrupts you by thrusting a bouquet of flowers into your hands.  

“Th-these are for you. I, um, remembered you mentioning lilies were your favourite flower, so...” He stumbles over his words, talking just a little too fast. 

You're quite literally lost for words. You examine the flowers, your cheeks growing warm; it's a lovely spray of pink, yellow and orange lilies, tied together with a cream ribbon. They’re a little crumpled, but nothing that can’t be fixed with a little plant food. You smile at Edward.  

“Oh, Edward. They're gorgeous, really, thank you. No guy’s ever gotten me flowers before...”  

A small, lopsided grin spreads across his face.   

“I can’t imagine why anyone lucky enough to have you wouldn’t get you flowers.”  

You flush at that, and loop your arm around his, leading him inside. You manage to find a nice booth in the corner, away from the stage and speakers that surround it while Edward heads to the bar. You anxiously drum your fingers on the table and scroll through your phone, not really paying attention to what you’re meant to be reading as your mind replays what Edward had said earlier.  

Edward watches you from the bar, admiring the high flush on your cheekbones and the way your outfit hugs your body. By the time he’s ordered and heading back to your table, you seem a little more relaxed. You smile at him gratefully as you accept your drink and try not to make your staring too obvious.  

He looks handsome. He's wearing such a basic outfit, just a simple button up shirt and some smart slacks, but there’s something about Edward wearing something so casual and making it look so good that has you crossing your legs under the table.  

“You look lovely tonight, by the way.”  

You smile shyly at him, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.  

“Thank you, Edward. I have to say, you clean up pretty good yourself.”  

He laughs, and you don’t miss the way it sounds like it's one of disbelief.  

“Well, I don’t know if I’d say that.”  

You roll your eyes playfully, taking a sip of your drink.  

“Well, I would. You look really handsome.”  

Edward shakes his head, a bashful smile on his face as he looks down, taking a sip of water. The pair of you sit there for a few moments in awkward silence, trying to think of something to start a conversation with. 

“So-” 

“You-” 

You lock eyes and both laugh, cheeks red. You wave your hand. 

“Sorry, you go.” 

Edward averts his gaze, fiddling with his collar. 

“I, um, was just going to ask how you found this place? I’ve never even heard of it. Well, I suppose the fact I don’t drink and don’t listen to jazz music doesn’t help, but...” 

Edward finds himself trailing off, kicking himself for how utterly awkward he is. The way you smile at him, unfazed, doesn’t help. 

How could someone like you ever find any interest in someone like him? 

“It’s a funny story, actually. My old roommate was on a date with this absolute dick, and she needed me to come save her. So, what happened was....” 

As you tell him the grandiose story of having to pretend to be your roommates' partner who caught her cheating, and how you had to run away when her date attempted to fight you, Edward can’t help but admire the way your eyes light up as you gesture wildly with your hands, the way your laugh comes out as an adorable snort when you attempt to do an impression of her very flustered date.  

You are so beautiful. He wishes he could capture this moment in a bottle and replay it every day, for the rest of his life. 

He doesn’t realise how much he’s staring until you clear your throat a little awkwardly, clearly finished with your tale. He can feel the warmth on his cheeks. 

“Ah, well, I do hope you don’t have some secret boyfriend who’s going to jump out on me like that.” 

He bites his lip after saying whatever the hell that was, but to his complete disbelief you laugh. Not a pity laugh, not one of discomfort, but a genuine laugh, one that’s just a little too loud, one that disturbs some of the patrons around you. 

You clearly don’t care, your head thrown back as that smile, that lovely smile from his favourite picture spreads across your face. Even as you speak, uncontrollable giggles escape you. 

“Oh God, can you imagine? Lucky for you, I’ve been single for a while, so don’t worry about my secret boyfriend coming in and trashing the place.” 

That makes Edward laugh, much to your pleasure, and just like that, the tension in the air has dissolved. You can see Edward’s tense shoulders visibly relax, and the next few hours are spent under the warm light of the bar’s lamps, your conversations hushed and filled with longing glances, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the world that exist. 

The two of you step out into the bitter cold of the evening, hands fumbling for your respective cartons of cigarettes. Your shivering hands are somehow able to summon a flame from your crappy old lighter, and the alcohol in your system, as well as the way Edward looks at you with such adoration in his eyes, warm you from the inside out. He offers you his arm and you take it maybe just a little too enthusiastically as you walk through the city streets. 

When you look up at Edward, he’s already got his eyes on you, the tip of his nose pink from the late winter air. You can feel the flush spreading across your face, quickly averting your eyes to the sparkling lights of the skyscrapers. 

Edward retracts his arm from yours, and you look up at him again, confused and somewhat offended. He’s shrugging his parka off his shoulders and draping it over your own before you can even comprehend what’s happening. 

“You’re shivering. You might not feel cold because you’ve been drinking, but I can see the goosebumps on your arms.” 

He says this so matter-of-factly. Does he not realise how romantic and thoughtful his actions are? He opens his mouth to speak again, but you interrupt him. 

“Thank you.” 

He offers you that adorable lopsided grin that accentuates just how round and soft his cheeks are. 

“It’s really no problem. I don’t want you getting sick.” 

Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s just how perfect the night has been. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. Before you can second-guess yourself, you’re removing the cigarette from between his lips and replacing it with a kiss. 

He's stiff at first, unsure, before you feel a hesitant hand on your face, thumb caressing your cheek. He pulls away first, pressing his forehead to yours, and you can practically see the stars in his eyes. 

“...Wow.” 

You suddenly feel bashful, pulling away from him completely and taking a drag from your cigarette. 

“Sorry, I-” 

“Why are you apologising?” 

You meet his gaze again, his glasses fogged up, but not enough to conceal the way his brow knits with worry, the apprehension in his eyes. 

“I don’t know, I- I should have asked first.” 

He takes your hand in his own, his smile so comforting that you feel all your worries melt away almost instantaneously. 

“You don’t ever have to worry about asking me something like that. The answer will always be yes.” 

He kisses you again, softly, and you can taste the tobacco on his tongue, making your head spin. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, squeezing it reassuringly as he takes your breath away. 

You pull away first this time, readjusting his glasses which have slipped down his nose. 

“Do you want to come back to my place?” 

Edward’s face goes entirely red at your suggestion, and he stumbles over his words as he tries to string together a coherent sentence. 

“I- um, well...” 

You smile patiently, and he returns it somewhat hesitantly. 

“I’ve- I’ve really enjoyed our night together, and I, just, um... I like you so much that, ah, I don’t really think we should rush anything. You’ve had a bit to drink, and I would hate to take advantage of that.” 

Your eyes sting at his rejection as you attempt to muster up a tight-lipped smile, nodding stiffly. Edward’s smile drops. 

“Oh dear, I’ve upset you, haven’t I?” 

When you don’t quite meet his eyes, he sighs and gently holds your hand, giving you the chance to push him away. When you don’t, he pushes a little further, holding your chin between two fingers and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. 

“I’m not lying when I say I like you. I really do, and I would hate to rush something as important as... that... especially when you’re intoxicated. I don’t want you to have any regrets. You're too special.” 

Your heart leaps at his words, and you give Edward a small smile. It was never about him, or his comfort. He’s worried that you’d regret sharing yourself with him. 

“I... yeah. I guess I’m just used to guys only expecting one thing out of a date. I really like you too, Eddie.” 

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, offering you his hand. 

“Let me walk you home?” 

You nod, leaning into his side.  

Edward, of course, knows exactly where you live, but feigns ignorance as you take the lead back to your apartment. He'd know your building anywhere, thanks to his tendency to follow you home after work to ensure your safety, but being in front of it now, with you by his side, feels so fresh and new that it’s almost as if he’s seeing it for the first time. 

It's falling apart, of course. Every building in Gotham that isn’t owned by someone extremely wealthy is. Crude graffiti adorns the crumbling brick walls, and he feels you stiffen up beside him when you notice a couple of shady guys, probably dealing drops, only a few feet away. 

“It’s not exactly... the best area. Will you at least wait for your cab in my apartment? I really don’t want you getting mugged, or worse.” 

Even with his impressive height, you’re worried Edward could be a target. His smart clothes definitely don’t help. 

Edward can hardly believe his luck at finally being able to see the inside of your apartment. Of course, he’s seen it from outside your window when he’s perched on your fire escape late at night, but this is different. This is intimate. Even though he’d turned down your offer for sex, you’re still revealing such a personal aspect of yourself to him. 

You trust him. 

You lead him into the rundown building, apologising for the elevator that has been broken for months. He already knows that, but nods anyway.  

“That’s okay. Five flights of stairs won’t do me any harm.” 

When you finally make it inside, he perches somewhat awkwardly on your couch, his height making the piece of furniture appear ridiculously small. You curl up on the other side of the sofa, giving him his space as he books an Uber home. 

The silence is thick, but comfortable. Edward is so engrossed in his phone that you’re finally given the chance to really study his features. The curve of his strong nose that holds up his glasses, the roundness of his cheeks, the softness of his jaw. The warmth of the numerous lamps scattered around your apartment light up his face with a soft glow that makes him look almost cherubic. 

Edward glances at you, clearly feeling your intense gaze. He doesn’t seem anywhere near as nervous as usual, his smile relaxed. 

“You okay?” 

You prop your head up with your hand and nod, content. 

“You’re so handsome, you know?” 

His cheeks grow pink, his smile a little more shy. His voice is a whisper when he speaks. 

“Thank you.” 

You lapse into another comfortable silence as he returns to his phone, the smile never leaving his face. His phone chimes and he stands reluctantly. 

“Cab’s nearly here...” 

You walk him to the door, and he lingers for a moment. 

“Can I-?” 

You don’t give him time to finish, tugging him down by his collar and pressing your lips to his in another soft kiss. His hands find refuge at your waist, pulling you closer to him. You run your hands up his sides, and he reacts with a delicious shiver to your utter delight. Gathering your nerves, you tease his lower lip with a nibble, and he chases your mouth with a soft groan when you pull away from him.  

You grin at his flustered state, his cheeks red and glasses fogged up, his sandy fringe ruffled beyond repair. You press one more lingering kiss to his lips before unlocking your door. 

“You said your taxi’s nearly here?” 

A chuckle escapes Edward, an octave lower than what you’re used to, and your knees go weak at the sound. He runs his hand through his hair, adjusting his glasses. 

“You are so cruel.” 

You glance down, immediately realising what he’s referencing, and giggle giddily. 

“You’ll just have to wait for next time, I guess.” 

He sighs, a dazed smile on his face. 

“So, you want me to take you out again?” 

You roll your eyes playfully, standing on your tiptoes so that your mouth is on level with his ear. You run a hand down his chest, your voice a sultry purr. 

“I thought that much was obvious.” 

Edward breathes out heavily through his nose and you smile innocently at him before kissing his cheek. The tension is shattered by the loud sound of his ringtone and you both jump back, the spell broken. Edward smiles apologetically at you when he answers the phone before panic spreads across his face. You can faintly hear a very angry man shouting at him on the other side of the line. 

“Yes, yes! Sorry! I’ll be right there! Sorry!” 

The other caller hangs up and you snort, pushing him gently out the door. 

“Don’t let me keep you any longer from the most awkward ride home of your life. Are you gonna tell the driver you left him waiting so long because you were making out with your colleague?” 

Edward stumbles over his words, the flush on his cheeks somehow deepening.  

“I, ah, will not be doing that. Christ, I’m going to have to tip him even more than I was planning to, aren’t I?” 

You giggle and Edward laughs too, giving you one last quick kiss before practically throwing himself down the stairs. 

You close your door, sighing dreamily like the protagonist of a cheesy rom-com. You shoot Edward a quick text and sink onto your sofa, your heart thrumming. You'd gotten him to open up. You're going to go on another date. You kissed him. As far as first dates go, you’d chalk that up to being pretty successful.  

The rest of your evening is spent texting back and forth with Edward, and when you finally roll into bed your brain is clouded with thoughts of him, his smile, the feeling of his lips on yours. You’re so focused on the image of Edward’s silly flustered smile after you kissed him for the first time that your rational thinking completely skips over one minor detail that you’ll have completely forgotten by the time you wake up. 

How did he know what floor you live on? 

[julesthequirky]

The Choice: Chapter Four

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters/Pairings: Fem!Reader, Dean, Beau and Soldier Boy/ Ben (and Eric the black cat.)

Warnings: Language, mentions of divorce, mentions of manipulation, typical Soldier Boy behaviour.

A/N: If you've noticed continuity errors regarding the divorce timeline, that is entirely my fault. I write these chapters on the fly, with the bare minimum on how the chapter will end, and the scope of the story. Excuses aside, I am making amends as I go. If you see any continuity errors, please let me know. Sometimes I just forget.

W/C: 1,726

Feeling lighter, thanks to Beau, you headed down after him. Checking your phone, you almost baulked at the time. It was half eleven at night. Where were they all going to sleep?

Two spare guest bedrooms were left free. One had been your ex-husband’s gaming room, and the other you’d wanted to turn into a nursery, but your ex had shot that idea down not long into the marriage. You’d talked about having kids, and he’d agreed. You’d show him cribs and strollers, and he’d smile and comment pleasantly. He fed into your dreams only to destroy them. You’d kept the gifts from family and friends, hiding them in boxes, unable to part with them no matter his insistence.

He had decided to sleep in that room during the separation. Out of fear of him finding the items, you hid them in your room, only to return them once he had left.

Now you had two guest rooms, both with double beds. You were sure none of them would share, and why would they? They were grown men, for God’s sake. That left the couch, which would not fit any of them on. You could barely fit on it. It was more of a loveseat and not a comfortable sleep. You knew from experience. It taxed the back if slept on for too long. This left you with the final option—your bed. And you hadn’t had a man in your bed since your ex a year and a half ago.

You scratched your chin lightly and walked with purpose towards the kitchen. You stopped in your tracks when you saw Ben. He sat at your table, a half-empty bottle of rosé clamped in his fist, and the rest was quickly following down his gullet. You knew for a fact it had been full the last time you’d checked your fridge.

After finishing the wine in mere seconds, he clunked the bottle down and belched loudly, then pronounced—

“You’ve got God awful taste in wine. A nun couldn’t get pissed offa that. Don’t suppose you’ve anything stronger?”

You blinked in astonishment.

“Uh, no. Only rosé.”

His lip curled, and he huffed but stayed seated. What could you do? You didn’t have the time to go to the store. He could wait.

“I’ll pick something up tomorrow.” You said pulling open a drawer.

He replied with a grunt as you were taking out paper straws. All equal in size, you cut one in half, then tucked them into your sweater pocket when you were finished. Behind you, a chair scraped back, and when you turned, Ben was rising to his feet, shield in arm.

“C’mon, I need to figure out where you’re all sleeping.”

“Oh,” His voice perked up. “Bet you’ve never slept with three blokes at the same time, eh?”

His eyes twinkled, and a smile slipped out. God, he was an asshole, but that smile…that smile made your stomach flutter.

“Lemme guess—one for each hole, right?” You said deadpan.

“You guessed it, sugar.”

You shook your head and patted his arm, striding past him to the living room. Dean was still inspecting the box, lips moving silently as he attempted to read the inscription. Working this whole thing out without his hunter contacts would take much longer. Beau had his fingers deep in Eric’s fur, who was purring loudly on the cowboy’s lap.

Ben sauntered in, smirk on his lips. He propped his shield down and perched against the couch’s arm, crossing his arms against his broad chest. Out of the three, he was the one that intimidated you the most.

You wiped your hands along your lounge bottoms. This needed sorting. It couldn’t wait any longer. You turned slightly, pulling out the straws, making sure the tops were of equal length, before presenting them to the boys.

“Pick one. This is gonna determine your sleeping arrangements.”

Dean looked up from the box, and Beau’s brows raised in wonderment. But they both reached forward, picking a straw. Each one was long, which left—

“So, what’s the short straw? The couch?” Ben inquired as he plucked the remaining straw from your hand.

“No.”

It was damn typical of him to get the shortest. It meant bunking with you. In your bed.

“The short straw is my bed. With me.”

“Ohoh.” Ben rubbed his hands together in glee. There was that twinkle in his eye again.

Oh, brother. You took the opportunity before something else came hurling out of his mouth.

“Lemme show Beau and Dean to their rooms, and tomorrow we’ll head into town and pick up some essentials.”

“Skin mags and lotion,” Flew out of Ben’s mouth. He nudged Dean beside him. “Gotta clean those pipes out, amirite?”

You sighed and scrubbed a hand down your face. Damn that man. Dean chuckled lightly but otherwise didn’t engage.

Before Ben could say anything more, you spoke up. “Why don’t I show you to your rooms.”

All three stood up. All right then. You picked up the box sets from the coffee table, quirking your eyebrows at Dean with a smile as you held the heavy set to your chest. You turned off the light and made your way upstairs. You showed Dean and Beau to their rooms, told them where the bathroom was and if they had any problems, told them which room was yours.

Then you retired to your room with Ben following.

“Betcha never slept with a Supe before, eh?” There was that teasing tone again.

He closed the door behind him and instantly started stripping. You looked away, heat rising in your neck and cheeks.

“Whatsa matter, sweetcheeks? Never seen a specimen as fine as myself before?” He chuckled lightly.

The box sets were getting heavy in your arms, so you dropped them onto the bed. Sighing, you knelt down and pulled out a suitcase from under the bed. In one of the pockets was a TSA-approved padlock.

Ben huffed a small laugh. “You think that piddly ass of a lock is gonna keep any of us out? I’m sure if we wanted, we could get past it. Real fuckin’ easy.”

You looked up. He only had his Supersuit pants on, top stuffed in his hands. He was in peak physical form. Perfect abs and pecs you wanted to run your hands over. Hard and toned, with thick biceps that could crush heads.

Damn.

You swallowed thickly.

He smirked.

“You wanna put your eyes back inside your head unless you’re lookin’ to ride the stallion?”

You closed your mouth and resumed your task—zipping and locking the suitcase.

“It’s a matter of principle. And respect. I wouldn’t delve into your belongings, so you won’t do it with mine.”

Ben snorted. “Believe what you wanna believe.”

“Well, I’m asking you not to.”

You pushed the suitcase back under the bed.

“Why you hiding them away anyway? Afraid we’ll watch our own shows?”

You rose to your feet. Now he had his Supe pants off and stood in his boxers.

“You know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat.”

He raised his eyebrows as you snatched your pyjamas off the bed and headed for the ensuite. No way were you comfortable with changing in front of him.

“I don’t bite. Not unless you want me to.”

He laughed as you closed the door on him. Sitting on the toilet, you rested your head in your hands. Oh, why did it have to be him? He was so toxic, so destructive, but dammit, he was so fucking hot. You’d thought about him in the worst ways, and they’d always give you the hardest orgasms.

But this wasn’t you and your imagination. He was really in there, almost naked, teasing and testing you. The sight of his body conjured all kinds of things and would be used when appropriate.

You changed, did your business and brushed your teeth before heading out. Ben was sitting in bed on your side. He had his hands behind his head, wearing a smirk.

“That’s my side…but I guess it doesn’t matter.”

You dropped your clothes in the laundry basket and slipped into bed beside him. Now, how were you going to do this? Form a pillow blockade? No. He’d most likely laugh at that, and you didn’t have the pillows for it.

You shuffled your pillow down a little bit and laid down, making sure the back of your head only just touched the mattress and pulled your hair up in a pony. You turned to see Ben giving you a strange look.

“What the fuck? You special or something?”

You frowned. “No. I’m just…particular.” You had the duvet up to your chin, lying dead straight.

“You look like Dracula in his fucking coffin.”

“We all have quirks.”

He quirked his eyebrows.

“That’s saying something.”

He pushed himself from sitting to lying down, causing you to sway as he did. He leant on one arm, looking your way.

“You look like you haven’t had a shit in a week. You nervous?”

“Little bit, yeah. You’re a bit of a wild card, and it’s been a while since a man has been in the same bed as me.”

“Like how long?”

“A year and a half.”

“Wow. You must really be gagging for it, huh?”

You huffed a small laugh.

“Contrary to popular opinion, no, actually.”

“Well, despite what you may think of me, I’m not gonna jump on you. Though if I knew I’d be picking the short straw, I’d have asked you to go to the store sooner. Dry rubbin’ fuckin’ hurts.”

Huh?

Ohhh.

You pulled a face and stared up at the ceiling. Ben laughed at your reaction and turned out the light, finally putting his head on the pillow.

You laid there, staring at the ceiling and minutes later, you heard his snores. They were loud, like a bulldozer. You stuck your head under your pillow desperately trying to sleep, but, God, were they so fucking loud. In the end, you gave up. You slipped out of bed and headed for the linen closet. You grabbed extra blankets before going down to the living room. You made yourself comfortable on the sofa. Eric meowed quietly, jumped up, and you kissed his soft head. He curled up, and you closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to take over.

Tags

@deans-spinster-witch, @curlycarley, @angelbabyyy99, @sassy-pelican