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sweetestcaptainhughes · 2 months

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Is it a Dark Day? - Cole Caufield

Word Count - 1.9k

Summary - For the first time since you started dating Cole, your depression seems to be coming back to kick you in the ass. Scared of how Cole will react, you do the only logical thing and pull away.

Warnings - depression, the effects of depression, executive functioning issues, but ends in fluff.

Authors Note: This the first part of a series I plan on writing where I take one mental health issue or any type of disorder and pick a player to write about how they would react if their significant other had it. If you have any ideas for future ones or future players please send me an ask. As always thank you for reading and sorry for not posting much lately. 💜

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Sometimes your brain likes to remind you that you were in fact not a normal happy person. It was an act that you’ve learned to master over the years, sometimes you're such a good actor you even fool yourself. Until your brain reminds you that you are in fact an actor. Someone who plays a part, and it will happen in a flash. Feeling as if you're having a good day, and then suddenly you hear a song that reminds you of something and you start to feel that exhausted and craving your bed. Or you will be out with friends and they remind you of something they find funny but it only reminds you of how much you were struggling at the time. Although the worst one was when you don’t even know the trigger, you could have been having a great time and then suddenly you will be on your couch for the next three days rotting away.

The worst part was this time, it’s almost like you felt the signs but ignored it. It started with the fact that it had been a stressful week at work, then you felt tired all the time, you found yourself being late to work simply because you couldn’t get yourself out of bed. Sadly, you were used to this popping up every once in while, knowing it was inevitable to get this all too familiar sadly almost welcoming feeling in your head. It’s like you had a brain fog come over and no matter what you did you couldn’t shake the feeling. But this time was different from all the others, this time you were dating the actual definition of a very hyper individual who always had some joke to say or a smile on his face. Cole was quickly becoming one of your favorite human beings but you didn’t want him to see you like this where you haven’t even taken a shower in 2 days. Cole was one of those people that radiated sunshine and it made you sink further into your couch thinking about how he would react to you right now. Again, your brain makes you think that he would judge you like others have for when your brain made you hate yourself. Thankfully, Cole was on a roadie so what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Knowing that you should probably answer Cole’s messages or answer one of his many facetime calls but you just couldn’t bring yourself to. Somehow during the last couple days, your mind seemed to alter your perception of time. Thinking that Cole would still be on his roadie for at least another day. But suddenly you heard banging on your apartment door.

“Baby?! Open the door please.” Cole pleaded on the other side of the door. Hearing his voice shocked you to your core, part of you wanted to open the door and tackle him. Allowing yourself to feel his comforting warmth hoping that some of it would make you feel even a tiny bit better. The rest of you were screaming to pull yourself more into the hoodie that you were wearing, pulling the blankets higher up to hide your body from the world. Letting your emotions overtake you when you realized you were wearing Cole’s hoodie because you wanted him more than anything 3 days ago when you started your couch rotting. It’s funny how time can change things, because nothing could get you up now and walk 30 feet to go open your apartment door.

Cole’s pleas and banging didn’t stop, “baby please! Tell me what I did.” he begged through the door. “y/n?” he said much softer than before, you could barely hear it from where you were hiding in your living room. “Please open up or I’m gonna use my key you gave me for emergencies.” The tears that were lightly streaming down your face now full on ugly crying. Of course that was the moment Cole decided to enter your apartment.

Hearing the door shut behind him as he entered your apartment. “Love where are you?” he asked, before he noticed what appeared to be the shape of your body on the coach. Once Cole did notice you, it was like he was on his knees in front of the sectional in seconds, even though he was on the other side of the apartment. “Mamas you awake, my love?” he asked gently as you felt him taking his palm and rub comforting circles all down your side. As your body registered his voice and processed words and touched your silent sobs became very much more real and loud.

“Hey shhh babygirl whats wrong?” he asked as his other hand not rubbing circles now your back went to grab the edge of the blanket. In a quiet voice Cole spoke his next words very carefully. “Honey, baby I'm gonna remove the blanket okay.”

His voice was telling you that he wasn’t asking but you didn’t care as you started to protest. “No no don’t” your voice started to crack “no I don’t want you to.” As you grabbed the blanket to keep it from moving.

“Why not?” you could tell in his voice that he was feeling hurt.

“I don’t want you to see me like this.” softly you admit not sure if your confession was more of admitting to Cole you didn’t want him to see you or confirming what your body was telling you earlier.

His voice barely over a whisper “what? Did I hurt you? Baby you haven’t answered a single one of my texts in 2 days, I spent most of today trying to not panic as I called your phone. Please baby let me see if you're okay?” Hearing his voice on the last few words and how he seemed to be fighting his own emotions. Feeling as if your own heart broke at that moment, the last thing you wanted to do was bring Cole down with you.

“You're gonna judge me.” you mumble, most of you knows that your thoughts are irrational but the part of your brain that’s calling the shots at the moment truly believes.

“Never.” his voice stern. With that yoo you couldn’t help but let out a little okay. Within seconds you could feel Cole slowly pulling back the safety of your blankets. Only pulling them down enough to see your face. “Hi beautiful.” he grins at you, the relief clear not only in his voice but his face as his eyes are finally able to see you after being radio silent for 2 days.

He moves your head so that you're looking up at him as he asks you “please tell me what’s wrong.” He moves his hands so that they are able to wipe some of the tears off your face.

“I don’t know.” your voice squeaking. Finally letting your eyes focus on him, you see his face is full of nothing but worry. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I-”

“You’re okay. I’m not mad, baby… I just- I want to know what’s going on in your head.” he admits, and your stomach drops at his confession. Loving Cole was one of your favorite things in your entire life, but Cole was different, he had this way of always being happy. How could someone who you have never even seen to have a frown on his face understand that your brain sometimes fights itself. Leaving you feeling as if even doing the most basic mundane task is out of reach and you don’t even know why.

Cole has never seen you struggle with your depression and it’s a lot. On top of his busy schedule due to being in the middle of the season, trying to move up from third line or second. Somehow your brain has convinced you all in a matter of minutes that Cole doesn’t have time to sit back and watch you fight your battles. You didn’t even realize that you were lost in thought until you heard Cole’s voice again.

“Baby” his voice is soft but loud enough for your brain to register that someone was speaking to you.

“I- I- sometimes I just - my brain it's like it.” Struggling to say what you want to say, finding the words to describe how much you truly feel like death at the moment.

“Is it a dark day?” he asks gently. You look at him in shock, “it’s okay to have a bad day every once in a while honey. Just please don’t push me away.” softly bending down and kissing your forehead, your body automatically chasing his lips as they leave your forehead.

“What if it’s more than a day?” you ask.

“Then I’ll be here please just let me love you.” he asks.

“Okay.” feeling yourself caving, allowing Cole to help you, it's almost like your body felt just a sliver of lightness for the first time in days, knowing that Cole felt the same way with the smile he had on his face.

He moved his hands so they were under your arms gently lifting you so he could lay comfortably with you on the coach. “Okay we can lay here for a little longer, then I’m gonna help you shower and get some clean sweats on alright?”

All you can do is nod, feeling overwhelmed with the love that Cole is showing you. Cole stayed true to his words after a few minutes he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom. Balancing on the balls of his feet in front of you on the toilet seat, his hands resting in yours on your thighs.He already turned on the water to warm up “Do you want me to stay or are you gonna shower by yourself.”

“Don’t leave.” the phrase rushing out of you, feeling scared if you didn’t get it out fast enough Cole would leave you again with nothing left but your thoughts to keep you company.

“I won’t until you tell me. We can shower together it’s okay” Finally making eye contact with him again, a giant pout on your lips looking as if you were gonna cry again. He took one of his hands that was resting with yours and took it to your face. “Hey hey you're alright. I promise. This will pass.” Finally moving his lips to yours for the first time since he came over, it was full of nothing less than the love he felt for you. He poured every single emotion into that kiss, it made you feel loved, safe, adored, cared for. Finally pulling apart you whisper a small ‘thanks.’ “Let’s get you cleaned up baby.” As he helps you undress and then quickly shedding his own clothes before helping you in the shower. He helped you wash your body and your hair, giving you little wet kisses all over your body, whispering reassuring words between the kisses. He wasn’t trying to start anything, he just wanted to show you how much he loved you when you couldn’t find anything to love about yourself.

Cole stayed with you that night, actually his only entire weekend off. He had to go to morning skate that Monday morning since it wasn’t optional. But from that weekend on you never felt closer to Cole. He was your light even on your darkest days, and he helped you find yourself every time you felt your depression pulling you away. Every time he noticed you randomly ghosted him. Or seemed distant in your eyes like your mind was somewhere else, he would always ask you one simple question “is today a dark day?” so that he always knew how to care for his girl.

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tanoraqui · 6 months

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In Which Space Orcs are Men

[AO3] A "what if humans are space orcs" take on Dagor Dagorath. (Aka the prophecied apocalypse of Middle Earth. Scifi story accessible to non-LotR nerds!)

Elves weren't really supposed to leave Earth. That's what they told us—the Elves, that is, told people thousands of years ago, when Elves could still be found here and there. When I was born, elves were nearly as much a fairy tale as they’d been on Ancient Earth.

Elves weren't supposed to leave Earth, the Elves said in the fairy tales, and in a few old scraps of records scattered around known space. They literally weren't made for it. They could only do it if they brought Earth with them—Arda they called it, leaves or dirt, water or a rare bubble of air, perfectly preserved in a white crystal. There are tons of tales about Elves losing their lifeline jewels—their hearts, their silimirs—and roping people into epic quests to get them back before they—the Elf—faded to nothingness.

Even the jewels weren't enough, though. That's why there are also stories about Elves who fell in love with a person or a place and stayed there until they faded, or Elves who charmed someone into following them back to Fairyland on Earth...because whatever they said, Elves didn't really live on Earth. Humans have maintained their home planet as a monitored nature reserve since like the 40th century, open only to vetted research teams and serious Human religious pilgrimages. The most confirmed accounts of Elves that exist are of their ships appearing out of nowhere, with no trace of any tech that would enable it, at random, always-changing points within 100 miles or so of Earth.

Nobody ever came back from trying to follow Elves home. Mostly Elves tried to dissuade people from trying. But there are always crazy and curious people—and Elves usually attracted those, because any Elf who left the home they were "made" for was usually crazy and curious themselves.

Those were the stories I grew up with. There was a cave near the orphans' creche which was supposed to be haunted by a faded Elf. I didn't really believe it—like I said, the last confirmed Elf was last seen like 5,000 years ago, and not even on my planet. People have met two dozen new sentient races since then. We've discovered that reincarnation is probably real (just functionally untrackable), prompting the Pan-Religious Reform Wars. The last person to see a live Elf was still traveling via natural wormholes—they literally didn't know that you could loop pi.

When the Human natal sun started to turn really red, it wasn’t that big a deal at first. It’s a very important, very sad event for any species, but it happens to everyone eventually. It happened to the Hectort just after we invented interstellar flight. There were some unusual gravatic waves around Earth’s Sol, but nothing worth noting to anyone who didn’t already care for personal reasons.

Then the Elves sent us a message.

The local Parks Service picked it up, of course. I bet the Humans meant to hush it up at first—though the Centaurian government still won’t admit anything—but someone leaked it immediately on the intergalactic net. It should’ve only been famous as a joke of a hoax, but…

It was basically just a metal box with rudimentary fire-thrusters soldered on the sides. It contained two things. The first was a recording/replaying device so antiquated that the only way they got it working is that it was already playing on loop, and didn’t stop until someone disconnected it from its power source.

The message was in Ancient Bouban, which some folklorist soon announced is the latest language an Elf could know, since the last known Elf went back to “Arda.” The voice somehow sounded melodic to every species with a concept of music, from the screeching Vesarians to the deep-sea sub-sonic Thinkers, even when translated through cheap, staticky speakers. And to most species, the speaker was audibly distraught.

They said,

This is the final message from the Firstborn of Eru to the Secondborn, and everyone else. The Battle of Battles has come, and we…are losing. If there are any who remember the ancient love and loyalty which bound our peoples, if there are any heirs remaining of Thargalax the Magnificent, of Nine-Fingered Frodo, of the noble Houses of Haleth, Hador and Beor—

The speaker drew a sharp breath, there.

—by great oaths and greater friendship I bid you now to raise your swords and ride to our aid. Ride as swiftly as you can!

We will hold for another year. We will, they said determinedly. After that, it is unlikely that…

Another, shakier breath. A smile forced into a voice which would rather weep.

Fëanáro and Nienna believe there is a way to destroy the Straight Road. If we must, if it comes to it, we will do so, and trap the First Enemy here in this dying world with us. Though I don’t know about—

Hair-aristocrat! a more distant, slightly less perfectly melodious voice called, in a language so dead that they needed computers to decode it. The walls are falling, we need to go!

If you never hear from us again, and no sudden discord arises among you, you will know we succeeded, the first speaker said quickly. If otherwise…I am sorry. Either way, I bid you all only, remember us! Oh beautiful flames, remember us, as we have ever remembered y—

There was a sudden screech of tearing metal, a defiant, musical battle-cry, and a jarring silence. Then the message restarted.

And that wasn’t even the strangest thing in the box. The strangest thing was the recorder’s power source, which was powering the whole tiny rocket mechanism as well. It was an Elf-jewel right out of a fairy tale, a fist-sized, translucent not-quite-diamond—but instead of rock or water or a much-loved scrap of plant, the only thing it held was light.

...Kind of. It isn’t normal light. It arguably isn’t light at all, as we know it—scientists now think it’s technically some sort of plasmoid aether, except it only acts like a plasmoid aether about half the time.

It has no detectable source within the jewel. It fully illuminates whatever space it’s in, no matter how big. Its visible radiation is a frequency, the scientists say, that matches a hyper-accelerated version of what the universe must’ve sounded like in the split second after the Big Bang.

It makes people remember things, when they see it in person or sometimes even across a holo. Some remember a similar light in a strange traveler’s eyes. Others, dreamily enchanted valleys where spring never faded, or tall castles, bright swords, and stern and glorious lords and ladies. And some of us got hit with a whole lifetime of memories in one go: an identical gem on the brow of a sober forest king, friends who slipped through trees like shadows save for their merry laughter, an impossibly beautiful gold-haired maiden dancing in a glittering cavern...

(And all the pain and loss that came with them.)

And some people just remember the sight of a distant star—in another world, in another lifetime.

Reincarnation was provable but untraceable…until now.

The Thinker ambassador on Astrolax Station 5 was the first to kick up a fuss. Most Thinkers never leave their home planet, they're too huge and aquatic. But like I said, there's always crazy and curious people. The ambassador started bellowing the second che heard the message, without even seeing the light, because, "I know him! My Wisdom! We must send aid!" That made some news, and random other people shared their own, less dramatic revelations, and soon a compilation swept the net with timestamps showing that most of them were organically independent, not just jumping on the bandwagon….

Even that might've gotten written off intergalactically. The Thinkers are big in reincarnationist circles, on account of how they claim that deep in their planetary ocean they can hear echoes of their past lives. But being mostly planet-bound means they're not really influential on a big political level. Or it would've sparked another surge of the Reform Wars, and everybody would've remembered the rock, but not the recording. Or there would’ve been a fight over this potentially infinite energy source (though that is so last giga-annum)….

But first it was shown in person to the current Director of the Admiralty of the Astral Alliance, President of the X-ee Empire and Matron of the House of S,sh, Ch’ees/i’i S,sh. I was actually there—I was Captain of her ceremonial Alliance guards, in a last-ditch attempt to salvage my career after Zanzibus. Very ceremonial, considering the X-eee have laser-proof shells and pincers and I have, what, opposable thumbs? Vestigial tusks?

I wasn’t paying attention at first, too busy being suddenly assaulted by all my own memories. So I missed the President freezing mid-step and gasping (in X-eee), “Mother.” I also missed her rising alarm call of an attempt to speak Ancient Elvish without an Elvish tongue or lips.

I sure didn’t miss her snap back to X-eee for a sharp call to attention, and everything that followed: the call to arms! The rousing of the Alliance! A tour of the galaxy, to find anyone and everyone else in whom the Light could awaken ancient memories! And for the love of X'eeh, why had nobody figured out how to get back to Fairyland with this thing yet, and every warship in the quadrant?!

If I believed in the One Behind, or in any other creator god or gods—I'm not saying I do, but if I did, if there really is something out there all-powerful and all-kind—then it'd be because out of every soul in the entire universe, the probably one in the best position to act on the Elves' message turned out to have, from a past life, two parents and a much-loved twin still in Fairyland. Like, that's insane, right?

I stayed with the Director's ceremonial guards for the whole tour, actually more than ceremonial for once—it was the weirdest mission of my life, and I've been on a lot of weird missions. Or supposedly routine missions that got weird (and usually disastrous). My friends joke that I'm cursed. S,sh requisitioned an Inquiry-class ship, so the science boffins could study the Light and jewel along the way, and we started wormholing at weft speed, hitting a new planet every week. Sometimes every day. In each major spaceport and ground-city, S,sh stood with the jewel on the highest available point and gave a recruitment speech for going to save the Elves and fight the oldest enemy of all reality.

Honestly, it seemed a little redundant? The Astral Alliance was made for this sort of rescue mission (and for escorting trade convoys). But I was...if not happy, then sure as hell more self-certain with my ancient memories restored, and most people who joined up seemed to agree. It was mostly people who remembered, when exposed to the Light, who joined—so before long, we had a whole tag-along trail of mostly civilian ships, trying to get up to Alliance Fleet standard on the road in less than a year.

Three different religious sects tried to kill S,sh for "profaning the mysteries." Five others tried to steal the jewel because we were apparently appropriating a holy object. The boffins announced that, bar the can't-prove-a-negative possibility, the evidently sourceless Light should be counted as an infinite energy source, and at least seven different groups, ruthless financiers and sustainability idealists, immediately tried to steal it for that. And I still don't know what the rival thief-queens of Likkiliani were about, except that I got tied up upside-down from a palmdar tree for two hours trying to stop one, the other paid me 700 cron then threw me off a cliff, and in the end they recognized each other from past lives and just made out on worldwide live-holo before joining our growing fleet.

It turned out they were the Director's past life's great-grandparents, and a Canid pop princess was her niece. The Thinker ambassador was some sort of ancestor, too. Crazy extended family.

Most people who remember just remember the sight of a star in the sky. A buddy of mine from Fleet Academy remembered looking up at it as a Human sailor. The historians—and you’d better bet we picked up some Earther historians on this mission as well!—say this jewel or one like it was probably astrologically conflated with the planet Venus by early Humans.

(The more time I spent around the jewel, the Silmaril, the more I remembered, of my first life and more. Lifetime after lifetime with bad luck dogging my steps, killing loved ones in my arms, destroying cities I was supposed to save… One restless, haunted night, I met a Rigilic in the cafeteria who’d been awake with some of the same nightmares, who’d been my dead older sister once.)

The tour was cut short when word came from the Earth system that there was a black hole growing in the center of their reddening sun.

No, the sun wasn’t compressing into a black hole millennia ahead of schedule—one had just spontaneously manifested within it, like it’d teleported in. No, not literally—that was impossible. We were pretty sure. No, the sun wasn’t falling into it…somehow. Yet. The black hole was only 17 quectometers wide, but it was growing at an erratic but unceasing rate. If their best estimation of the pattern held, it would consume the sun 2 months before the Elves’ deadline, and the Earth 4 to 950 minutes later.

We pulled back to Earth—well, to the dwarf planet Eros, on the edges of Earth’s star system. That’s where the nearest shipyard of any note was, and we were gathering the whole Astral Alliance. This is exactly the sort of thing the Alliance is for.

I was released back to ship duty. Zanzibus was still a black mark on my record, as was Jorab, and really everything on the AAS Endeavor…and that thing in third year of Fleet Academy… But no matter how bad my curse, I was an experienced captain and one of the best pilots in the Alliance. For this, we needed all the best.

The boffins had pretty quickly mastered limited manipulation of the Light, using modified aetheric resonators, and every day they came up with something new for us to test. They focused the Light into a laser cannon like no one has seen before. They laced it through plasma shields until a fully shielded ship glowed like a distant star. They managed to nearly replicate the Silmaril’s crystalline structure, so they could make “copies” that shone like the original for first a few hours; then, with refinement, a full week…

The one thing they couldn’t pin down with any real confidence was how to get to Fairyland. The frequency of the Light resonated with large bodies of Earther saltwater in a particular way, and models suggested that if the Light source moved horizontally along the water within a certain range of distance and velocity, the resonance would create a wormhole-like ripple in space—but wormhole-like, was the key word, and models suggested. The closest anyone had seen to that spatial distortion was in a logbook of dubious veracity from the Delta Quadrant, four hundred years ago. Alteia, my Academy buddy who’d been a Human sailor, took the Silmaril in an M-wing on a series of highly monitored test flights above the Atlantic Ocean, and space did repeatedly start to hollow in front of bom—so bo had to stop every time, rather than risk vanishing with our single, maybe-one-way ticket.

Then Earth’s moon stopped shining in the sky. Its albedo just dropped nearly to zero, from one night to the next. There was nothing wrong that anyone could figure out—nothing with the orbit, nothing with the surface rock, nothing with the artificial atmosphere. Inhabitants reported feeling colder by several degrees, but no measuring equipment recorded anything.

The black hole slightly off-center in the middle of Sol was now 844.9 zeptometers, and growing more steadily.

We didn’t have time to keep testing. We needed to raise our swords and make our ride, even if we only got one shot at it.

I was given command, for seniority, skill, and because I was the one who managed to talk S,sh out of leading the fleet herself. (If my lives had taught me anything, it was the importance of having someone, anyone, ready to be emergency backup.) Ironically, I was back on the Endeavor, with most of my old crew—though we got permission to rename the ship, in honor of the mission. A lot of people did. Alteia was now commanding the AAS Elendil on my right flank, star-friend in Ancient Elvish. That Canid pop princess had taken over a hospital ship and renamed it Rivendell. An Earth Park Ranger, of all things, remembered being my dad—briefly—and he was leading the Rangers plus my Rigilic drinking buddy on the EPSS Elfsheen.

We weren’t sure if any ship but the one with the Silmaril would get through. The fleet numbered in the hundreds in battleships alone, not counting scouts and scuttlers. Twelve races had sent ships on top of their typical Alliance Fleet tithe, and S,sh had brought about half the full force of the X-ee Empire. We all just locked tractor beams and hoped.

I was piloting as well as captaining, with the Silmaril between my forehorns. It was held in place by about a dozen wires and other connectors to the ship, like an old-timey pilot’s headset. We took off in orbit around Earth, as close as possible to the surface—not very close, in warships of Class S and higher, but within range of the oceanic resonance. A Likkilianian thief-queen stood at my shoulder, ready to advise if anything “Musical” started to happen.

Think about what you’re trying to get to, and why, the boffins had advised, so I did—bright-eyed kings and dancing maidens; lost friends, families, cities, planets and all. The jewel got warmer against my skin and shone brighter with every pulse of the engine, brighter than we should’ve been able to see through.

The silver-gold Light twisted and diffused as space did around us. But there was no familiar rippling wormhole boundary—instead, spacetime thinned to a curtain like driving rain, like Vesarian silver-glass.

A ghost appeared next to me. She looked like the oldest, grumpiest writing teacher at the crèche, though I knew that was only in my head.

“There you are,” she said, impatient and relieved like I’d been hiding in the sandbox again, rather than coming to class on time. Her sewing scissors went snip snip snip as she darted them around my body—and a chain on my soul faded into guiding threads.

Before she’d even disappeared again, I punched the engine and blasted through the silver-glass curtain.

Fairy tales said there’d be a peerlessly beautiful land on the other side, green with eternal spring, full of endless light and laughter. They said there’d be sunlit shores and shimmering waves, with welcoming docks for sea-ships, sky-ships and space-ships all…

We flew into the worst battlefield I’d ever seen, in any lifetime. It was more desperately vicious than Jerusalem V at the height of the Reform Wars, more ruined than Glaurung’s wake, more desolate than Zanzibus after the nuclears fell.

Either a massive supercontinent or a small moon had been shattered, leaving nothing but a roiling debris field. The brand-new meteoroids ranged from pebbles to rocks the size of a small space station, and included space-frozen corpses, forests, and what might have once been city blocks.

I gave the helm back to my Pilot Officer—zer had, I can admit, slightly better reflexes for dodging debris—and focused on captaining.

Most of the life signs were clinging to the larger rocks. There shouldn’t have been atmosphere for them, but walls of thunderstorm wrapped around every shard with even a single life sign—wind and water desperately hand in hand to safeguard the last of the Elves. The only thing visible through the impossible storms was the Light of a second Silmaril, on a meteoroid shaped like half a broken eggshell.

A corpse lay at the epicenter of the explosion—what might’ve been a corpse, if it wasn’t also shattered. The broken pieces of a massive stone humanoid, taller than my ship if it’d stood beside her, still bleeding lava so hot that it burned even in frozen space. Another titan knelt at the shards of its head, a figure of towering bark and leaves, wailing with grief even worse than the end of the world.

A slimmer tree-woman stood with one hand on her shoulder, comforting, and the other wielding a skyscraper-sized club spiked with incandescent wildflowers. Guarding her sister’s heartbreak, she fended off a swarm of bat-sized monsters with wings of darkness and whips of flame.

Bat-sized relative to the gods of Elves and ancient Humans. About the size of an M-wing, in flight.

Countless more of the bat-things flung themselves at the storm-bubbles, like carnivores chasing the prey hidden inside. They were fended off by an equal army of creatures with wings of light and swords of lightning, led by a towering figure who seemed to dance from one bloody battle to the next.

The biggest battle by far was the farthest away, over where the sun had been. In this dimension of stories over science, Sol was another woman-shape, smaller than the others but burning just as brightly as her star. Also just as blood-red. The light was centered on a fist she kept clenched at her chest, and instead of containing the black hole, the unseeable thing that it was here surrounded her, striking at her with a thousand hungry jaws and grasping legs, and she had only a one-handed whip of a solar flare to fend it off—

But she didn’t fight alone. A warrior tore at the Darkness’s spidery limbs with his fists, image on the cameras flickering impossibly between every hero I’d ever heard of. A snarling figure bit at it with jagged teeth, gored it with horns, shredded it with claws and talons, and generally made every ancient prey-instinct in me scream. And a queen with a crown of stars, a shield like the night sky and a sword like a streaking comet, stood dauntlessly at the sun-holder’s side.

With all that, and with the speed of even her most exhausted strikes, I thought the sun-holder could probably have gotten away if she’d tried. But I knew how a person fought when they weren’t willing to leave a friend, and a smaller, silver figure lay at her feet, unmoving and drained of light.

But even the battle for the sun wasn’t what grabbed my eye. No—all my attention, all my guiding threads of fate and the quick temper that always used to get me in trouble, before (and sometimes after) I learned to leash it in an Alliance uniform— All of that took me straight to the fight happening orthogonal to the stone giant’s corpse.

It was another one-versus-many. Morgoth, the First Enemy of Elves and Men— Master of Lies, Maker of Chains, Sonofabitch Curser of Bloodlines—towered over even his fellow gods. His shape changed constantly, sickeningly, but it was always black-armored with eyes like dying stars that hated you personally. His maul dripped with lava and every other kind of blood.

He fought against three great gray figures who moved as one. The tallest wielded a star-studded scythe with swift, efficient strokes, and wore the dark gray of corpse-shrouds. The shortest shimmered with more colors than even a Stamotapadon could dream of, and his weapon shifted likewise. The third was the clear, clean gray of skies after rain or tears run dry, and fought with only a shield—and hit harder with it than either of her brothers.

Around their heads darted the only Elves on the battlefield, in small fliers more like sea-ships than aircraft. But they moved fluidly, pestering the Dark Lord like flies, pricking his skin and threatening his burning eyes.

Until Morgoth swung his maul with a roar of fury that traveled even though soundless space. My ship and heart both shuddered. The gray gods all staggered back, and the Elves fell from the no-longer-sky—all but their leader, more fire than flesh, who wore the third Silmaril. Morgoth caught him in one massive black hand and with sharp claws plucked the jewel away, as easily as a ripe berry from a tree—

“All power to fore-cannon and fire,” I ordered—and the jewel on my brow shone bright again as several stored months’ worth of infinite Silmaril-Light slammed into Morgoth’s chest with all the force that the best scientists in the Astral Alliance could engineer.

He stumbled. He dropped both the jewel and the elf-king (who’d been trying to bite him). The Lady of Mercy tossed her shield to catch them, staying low and out of sight—though she needn’t have bothered. The so-called “Lord of All” had already found his next enemy.

“All ships, move forward and join shields,” I ordered, and met his burning stare though the viewscreen. “Then broadcast me on all external frequencies.”

The wires on my forehead shimmered as we shifted Light-flow to the shields—and to my right, so did the Elendil, and to my left, the Cosmian Blade, and all around us the Minas Tirith, the Elfsheen, the Muse, the Rivendell, the Heart of Zanzi, the Longbottom Leaf… They were still soaring out of the silvery distortion behind me, tractor- and Silmaril-towed: sleek Rigilic eels-of-prey and Centaurian cruisers full of Humans eager to fight for their homeworld, Betan mine-ships and Canid X-M-wings and my own Hectoan starlighters, a full third of the X-ee navy with their X-eee–shaped six-engine dreadnoughts, and hundreds more.

“This is Captain Pel Cinia, once Túrin Turambar, of the Astral Alliance ship Gurthang,” I said. My words were broadcast from every ship on every frequency in every language that the people of Arda might know, as the Fleet assembled from forty-plus different worlds flew into position. Our Light-infused shields blazed and locked together, until we formed a seamless wall right in the Enemy’s face, with the Elves and their other allies safely behind us.

I’ve never felt more proud to recite the most cliché line in the Fleet:

“We got your distress call. We’re here to help.”

#the silmarillion #science fiction #humans are space orcs #fanfiction #my fic #dagor dagorath #not tagging characters bc spoilers (they're listed at the end of the ao3 though)

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kingalooo · 5 months

Text

𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭?

This is more of a drabble from Flores since I wish Miguel would sneak into my room :((( This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks LMFAO

Minors do not interact!!!

⊹ ✦ 。°˖ ⊹ ✦ 。°˖ ⊹ ✦ 。°˖ ⊹ ✦ 。°˖ ⊹ ✦ 。°˖ ⊹ ✦ 。°˖

-After that little interaction in the kitchen, it became a constant routine.

-Most of the time it would be Miguel initiating anything and everything

-It was our little secret

-From groping you secretly at functions

-Fingering you in the living room

-Sneaking kisses down the hallway of the house

-Or more recently, sneaking him in through your bedroom window

-It was a constant thing atp

-It wasn’t everyday though, he’d make sure you were well rested for your classes or work the next day

-He didn’t want his girl to be tired or exhausted

-Especially after a long night🤭

-But tonight you didn’t have to be anywhere the next day

-You weren’t expecting him to come in at all tonight since he’d usually send a message

-A soft knock echoed in the room

-Startled from your sleep, you get up from bed and head towards the window

-“Miggy, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” I say, rubbing my eyes tiredly

-“Lo siento princesa I just couldn’t sleep…” Miguel smiled apologetically, noticing how tired you looked. “I figured I’d sleep better with you next to me.”

-sleep better after fucking me 😻

-After letting this ginormous man through the window, we made our way to my bed. I slip into his warm embrace

-It was great and all

-But now you couldn’t sleep

-You begin playing with his fingers

-He was half asleep atp but let you do as you pleased with him

-“Miggy?”

-“Mande mi reina…” He mumbled back in a raspy voice

-Y’all hear something purring?

-“Now I can’t sleep,” I frown at him “Thanks a lot.”

-He chuckled, playing with your hair with his free hand while you played with the other

-“I'm sorry mi reina…” He planted a small kiss on my lips. Was that enough? No.

-You shift yourself to sit on top of his lap, his hands instinctively gripping your hips

-“I like where this is going…” Miguel grinned

-“Guess you’re going to have to stay awake now,” I tease, slowly grinding against his hips

-Miguel had no problem letting you take control every now and then

-But the way you looked on top of him made him go ballistic

-That lace nightgown you were wearing was his favorite

-Easier access to everything he wanted

-This little teasing of yours wasn’t going to cut it

-He quickly flips you over so he’s on top

-Positioning himself instantly, his clothed erection throbbing against your wet panties

-He thrusted against you, earning both a moan from you and a groan from him

-This continued for a bit, whispering encouraging words into your ear

-Then there was a knock

-Both of our heads snapped towards the sound

-“Mija? Estás despierta?” (My daughter? Are you awake?)

-HOLYYYYYY

-“Get in my closet”

-Imagine a 6’9 man in a tiny closet LMFAO

-He made it work regardless in just a matter of seconds

-You quickly adjust yourself, throwing on a robe before opening the door to see your dad standing on the other side

-“¿Qué fue ese ruido?” (What was that sound?)

-“Perdon apa, I was fixing my bed…” You answer innocently

-“Esta bien, pero ya duérmete es demasiado tarde…” He says back in a serious tone before shutting the door (That’s okay, but go to bed it’s really late.)

-You turn back to face the closet

-Miguel peaks his head out

-“I don’t know how you did it,” I try to hold back a laugh as he tries to slip out of the tight space

-“Adrenaline rush princesa,” He chuckles. “No te regaño?” (Did he scold you?)

-“Not really, he just said go to bed…” I yawn before taking his hand in mine and guiding him back to bed

-We gladly go back into our cuddling position

-But not before his hand grips your ass

-“Miguel.”

-“It’s a habit.”

I literally love this man sooo much ugh 😔

#miguel 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #atsv miguel #dbf!miguel

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asamiontop · 1 year

Text

Supercorptober - Wild or…

Captain Underpants (also on Ao3)

Lena: Text me when you get this.

Kara squints at the message. If she narrows her eyes to slits, the photonic assault hurts her eyeballs less. The text is from Lena, so she answers right away. Doesn’t matter that it’s far past late at night and still hours away from early morning.

Kara: hey got your message. what’s up?

She thinks, mistakenly, that Lena will be asleep. She hopes, misguidedly, that that will afford her a few precious hours of rest herself. Her phone chimes and shatters that fantasy in its infancy.

Lena: Are you home?

That’s concerning. Even through the swampiness of fading inebriation and a blossoming hangover, Kara’s synapses spark to life at the idea that Lena may be in trouble.

Kara: I’m home. everything okay?

The response comes back so fast that Kara suspects Lena started typing before she’d even answered.

Lena: I’m coming over.

Kara glances blearily at her alarm clock. 2:47am. Something is definitely wrong.

It’s a testament to her body’s exhaustion that, despite the urgency, Kara manages to fall asleep. She jolts awake to the sound of cannonballs exploding in her ears, the echoes rattling around in her skull. Her superhearing is out of whack from the sleep or the alcohol or both and nearby noise is amplified a thousandfold. The resounding knock at her door sounds more like a battering ram than a fist.

“Kara?” Lena’s voice drifts through the apartment and all other noise seems to melt away. The soothing effect is immediate. Kara’s heart slides back down her throat and thumps in relief. She sags into her pillow with a sigh before she remembers the fact that Lena is visiting her at three in the morning.

Kara superspeeds to the entryway. She just barely reminds herself to touch down on the floor before unlocking the deadbolt.

“Lena!” Kara whips her door open. She’s prepared for the whole range of human emotion, perhaps some tears or sobs or panic or any external sign of distress.

Instead Lena greets her with pursed lips (puckered in that distracting way that accentuates the crisp line of her jaw), a tilted head, and brassy raise of her eyebrow. Lena looks as beautiful as ever in the middle of the night, but she certainly does not appear distressed.

She gives Kara an undisguised once-over.

“Hello, Supergirl,” Lena deadpans.

All the oxygen leaves the room. Kara’s anatomy doesn’t require much of it, but she still feels like she’s choking on the lack of air. Her eyes bug out and she momentarily loses all cognitive function as her half-drunk system begins a hard reboot into this new reality where apparently Lena now knows her secret identity. The corner of Lena’s mouth twitches victoriously and somehow that is what kicks Kara back to the land of the living.

Without so much as a warning, she snags Lena by the wrist and yanks her bodily into the apartment. It’s a whole miracle Kara doesn’t slam the door off its hinges as Lena stumbles past the threshold.

“Heh—Supergi—that’s funny—what, uh.” Kara squeaks, sounding totally normal. She whirls around to face her friend with a manic laugh and round, wild eyes, “W-what are you talking about?”

Alex teases Kara relentlessly for her inability to play it cool. As she scratches the back of her own neck only to realize that her hair is down and her glasses are sitting uselessly on her nightstand, then completely misses the wall she intended to lean against and surreptitiously floats to keep her balance, Kara admits that her sister may be onto something.

“Kara, please.” Lena’s eyebrow lifts so high that her forehead wrinkles to accommodate it. “Don’t insult me.”

She opens her mouth to speak but something about the way Lena’s regarding her—resolute and impatient, like she’s just waiting for Kara to catch up so they can move on— makes her snap her jaw shut. Kara abandons her remaining denial with a long exhale.

She can’t help but cling to a thread or plausible deniability though.

“What, um.” Kara clears her throat. “What makes you think that I’m—” her voice cracks on the words, so foreign to her in this context— “that I’m Supergirl?”

Instead of answering, Lena raises an unimpressed eyebrow. Wordlessly, she turns on her heel and heads for Kara’s coffee table. Puzzled, the superhero follows. She just about combusts when Lena flicks on the television.

There, in what must have been filmed by a cell-phone, is Supergirl, twirling through the air suitless and cape-less—wearing nothing save for a matching sports bra and boxers. Kara’s jaw unhinges. She thinks her eyes hurt from how wide they’ve gotten. Supergirl’s hair is blowing freely in the breeze and she looks absolutely delighted as she corkscrews aimlessly above the city, half-naked and carefree.

Kara watches in horror as the video zooms in shamelessly on her butt. (Rao damn The Fruit for stuffing their mobile devices with such capable cameras.) This, mortifyingly, is precisely where Lena chooses to pause the coverage. She clicks the remote, freezing the frame on a screenful of Kara’s backside, and points an elegant but accusatory finger at the blown-up image of Kara’s favorite underwear.

It’s not just any old set of underwear. These ones are indescribably soft and comfortable. They fit just right, snug in all the right places, and they are adorned with a bizarrely adorable pattern of cartoon potstickers, puppies, and chopsticks. Most precious of all, they were a gift from one Lena Luthor last Christmas.

Kara ventures a shifty glance at the CEO, whose eyebrow is still quirked expectantly.

Stupidly, Kara blurts the first thing occurs to her. “That could be anyone.”

A second eyebrow climbs to match the first, shifting Lena’s expression from confident to incredulous in a single movement.

“I—I mean,” the superhero stammers, “it’s a really cute pattern a-and maybe Supergirl got herself the same set you bought me.”

Lena’s eyes close slowly, patiently and she shakes her head. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she mutters, “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“Why not?” Kara demands, incomprehensibly committed to her flimsy excuse. “Lots of people like potstickers and puppies!”

“Because they are custom, Kara.” Lena’s head tilts sharply and she skewers the blonde with a pointed look. “I had them custom-made for your gift.”

“Oh.” Kara blinks. “You did?” Her voice ticks up at the end, betraying how oddly touched she feels at the gesture.

Lena appears exhausted but at least somewhat amused now. “Yes. Did you think I happened to fortuitously stumble upon the exact combination of all your favorite things printed on the exact type of undergarment you happen to favor?”

“Um… yes?” Kara shrugs even as the feeble defense crumbles around her. “You can find anything on the internet nowadays.”

Lena sighs. “Kara.” The super’s eyes lock on hers and Lena deliberately drags her green gaze down Kara’s front and slowly back up.

The hint of heat in Lena’s eyes isn’t lost on the Kryptonian, so her face is already two shades pinker than normal when she follows Lena’s stare down her own body.

Her cheeks flame up fully at the visual reminder that she is in fact still wearing the offending undergarments and precious little else.

“Oh.” Kara swallows. She is fully on display for Lena—not only mostly undressed, which induces its own type of stirrings in her belly, but also in clothes unmistakably identical to the superhero frozen on the screen. It’s four coincidences too many.

“Oh,” Lena parrots, nodding once.

Kara’s arms cross instinctively over her bare stomach. She’s ashamed. Not of her body, but of attempting to keep up such a charade without a lick of self-awareness. Mostly, she’s ashamed of hiding the truth from the person with whom she’d most wanted to share it.

Frankly, it’s a monumental relief to be unshackled from her secret. Without the burden of her identity, Kara can truly give Lena her full self, share all the bits and pieces of her that have sat leaden and unspoken on the tip of her tongue for months. Now that Kara has the liberty to be well and truly honest, maybe she can finally entertain the budding intimacy and extra warmth that’s been building around her best friend. She’s never felt quite so enthralled to be the focus of someone’s gaze before and maybe if—

Kara shakes her head, clearing away the cobwebs of hope. There’s a very different reality to be faced right now.

Casting an anxious glance at her feet, Kara flexes her toes and reaches for the grounding sensation of the grain in the hardwood.

Kara swallows thickly, mind alight with all the wrong turns this revelation can take, all the covert ways her secret could have already poisoned their relationship beyond recovery.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbles, forcing her voice to remain steady even as she collapses into a defeated heap on the couch.

After a few seconds of silence, she gathers all the courage in her rapidly accelerating heart and glances up for Lena’s reaction.

Once again her best friend surprises her. Lena doesn’t seem mad or hurt or resentful. She looks… perplexed, if not a little exasperated.

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” Lena asks slowly once their eyes lock.

Kara senses her own crinkle bunching between her eyebrows to match Lena’s. “For keeping this from you,” she answers dejectly.

Lena’s eyes widen and Kara rushes to justify herself. The explanation clambers out of her of its own accord, gathering momentum and volume like a snowball rolling downhill.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you so badly, Lena. For months! You’re one of the most important people in my life! I trust you. I–I can’t really explain it, but something about you has always made me feel safe. I just, I felt like I knew you from the moment we met. And that feeling hasn’t faded at all. In fact, it’s grown stronger. I think maybe it’s even become—”

Kara stops short of broaching that subject and launches up off the couch, beginning a proper maniacal pacing across her living room floor.

“You didn’t even need to but you went ahead and proved to me and Supergirl and everyone in the world that you are even more noble and good than I imagined. You are so incredible, Lena. Of everyone I love, you deserve to know this part of me. But—but this superhero thing is so complicated. There are all these rules with the DEO and it’s not always safe for the people that know my identity and—”

“Kara—”

“—and as much as I wanted to be completely open with you, I couldn’t risk you getting hurt. I can’t. I won’t. So then—”

“Kara, darling.” The endearment smashes sideways into Kara and brings her ramble to a skidding, screeching halt. “Stop talking.”

Dumbstruck, Kara does. She turns back to Lena and nearly suffocates at the fondness she finds shining back at her. It’s accompanied by a dash of amusement and that same exasperation from before, but the affection is there and it’s so warm that Kara’s cheeks heat up to match. How Lena can still look at her like that after what Kara’s kept from her is… it feels unfair.

“I’m really sorry Lena,” Kara insists quietly, this time staring directly into those striking windows of sea-glass green and willing her to see how acutely she means it.

“Don’t be.” Lena’s expression softens even further and Kara wonders if this is how it would feel to live life as a lava cake. Airy on the outside and melty on the inside. Warm and delicious all over. It’s nice. Maybe she can get Lena to eat her if—Kara blinks out of her daze. Okay so perhaps she is still a teensy, weensy bit tipsy.

Lena doesn’t seem to notice her brief departure because she adds very earnestly, “I understand why your identity needs safeguarding. I can’t imagine very many people know this about you.”

“No,” Kara agrees, eyes seeking the floor again.

“Frankly, I wouldn’t have expected you to reveal something so sensitive to someone like me.”

The self-deprecation in Lena’s tone is unacceptable. Kara is about to protest that she wanted to—would have if not for the magical influence of Alex’s good sense—when Lena shrugs.

“And we’ve only known one another for a year. There are bound to be some secrets.” The next part is whispered, as if Lena doesn’t mean for Kara to hear. “God knows I have some.”

“Wait—” Kara teeters closer, itching with that Lena-fueled curiosity that swims constantly through her veins.

Lena’s eyebrow twitches haughtily and she smiles, reaching out to pat Kara’s hand. “Matters for another time, darling.”

She wraps her fingers loosely around Kara’s and guides them both onto the couch. Kara, ostensibly still in her underwear, pulls a throw pillow into her lap.

Without warning, Lena resumes the video. The frozen widescreen snapshot of Kara’s behind shrinks away mercifully to the top corner of her TV, revealing a smirking newscaster barely keeping her laughter at bay. Her brown eyes dance as she describes Supergirl’s latest antics in excruciating detail to whichever unfortunate souls are watching at this time of the night.

“Why are we still watching this?” Kara mumbles, hugging the pillow to her chest. Lena remains placidly silent.

Just as Kara thinks her public shaming is complete, a new video overtakes the screen. This one is shot from a much better—or incriminating—angle. Namely, a news helicopter hovering at altitude, level with Supergirl as she floats in lazy spirals then flutters hundreds of feet down, playful and giggling, before shooting back up and starting again.

Kara really takes the cake when she stops mid-somersault and flashes the camera an unfocused wave and a dazzling smile. ‘Up, up and away,’ the half-naked superhero slurs. Then she proceeds to plunge straight out of the sky, giggling gleefully as she falls.

“Oh god,” Kara groans as the camera swings wildly to chase her back into the frame. It finally catches up to her as Kara’s trajectory is intercepted by a green-black blur. She and the blur disappear in a flash of red and the video gives way to the newscaster once more, speculating about the inexplicable nature of her behavior.

So that’s why J’onn had showed up to fly Supergirl home.

“I…” Is there kryptonite in the room or is she just burning up from sheer embarrassment? “I don’t remember doing that,” Kara whispers, quiet as a mouse.

Beside her, Lena snorts. Kara swivels to glare at her but the image of Lena stifling a laugh into the tips of her fingers is entirely too cute to hold a grudge against. She pouts instead.

Eventually the CEO regains her composure and asks, exceedingly gentle, “What do you remember?”

Kara’s features scrunch into a frown as she replays the last several hours in her head. It’s somewhat blurry, but there’s a chronological consistency to the snippets of clarity.

“It… it was my night off,” Kara begins. A picture of Alex’s rowdy laugh shimmers to life in her mind’s eye and she smiles. “Sister’s night.”

Lena nods, smiles just because Kara did and that—that’s really something. Her heart does a happy little flump. Then she remembers.

“That’s why I didn’t have my supersuit!” Kara snaps her fingers. “J’onn told us he had everything covered tonight. He said we should take the night to really unwind.”

Lena’s unimpressed little ah sets Kara into a guilty grimace. “I… don’t think this is what he meant he meant by unwind,” Kara admits.

“Probably not.” Lena agrees. It’s a gentle admonishment and a flat tease all in one and Kara is too busy thinking that Lena is miraculous to be at all bothered by the joke at her expense. “What did you two plan for sister’s night?”

“Well… Alex came over and we had a few drinks. I remember she brought some sort of alien punch or something. I don’t know what was in it but it was really yummy. I… got a little drunker than I meant to.”

Kara omits the part where she ignored Alex’s warning about the potency of said beverages because ‘I have a Kryptonian metabolism Alex. I’ll be fine.’

“Oh. So this…” Lena gestures vaguely in the direction of the television. It’s paused on another unflattering view from below and Kara wrinkles her nose. “Was alcohol-induced?”

“Yeah…” she admits, dragging out the word.

Lena raises an eyebrow. “And… voluntary?”

“Um. Yes.”

Lena regards her for a long moment, then releases a gargantuan breath. Her shoulders fall with it, settling almost one full inch below where they’d been twisted in tension since she arrived. “Well that’s a relief,” she exhales.

“It—it is?” Kara tilts her head.

“I thought you’d been poisoned.” Lena looks at her sharply and Kara swallows. “I was… concerned.”

The flash of vulnerability in her eyes is as close as Lena gets to chastising her, but Kara still feels it like a punch to the gut. It doesn’t take much work to put herself in Lena’s shoes, to imagine the sensation of the ground dropping out from underneath her when a slew of worst case scenarios take up residence in her brain. Combined with the realization that Supergirl’s erratic behavior is also her best friend’s, it might just warrant the frazzled and urgent messages in the middle of the night.

“I’m sorry,” Kara winces. “I promise I’m okay. Just a bit hungover, probably.” She pauses thoughtfully. “If it makes you feel any better, you weren’t entirely wrong.” Lena’s brow furrows and Kara grins dumbly, if only to inject a little levity into the moment. “Alcohol is pretty much poison. I just, you know, did the poisoning myself. I had a great time.”

There’s a stifled snort sound again and then Lena’s chuckling, loose at last and shaking her head fondly. Kara melts into the angelic sound, into the familiarity and affection twinkling within.

“So long as you’re okay,” Lena adds.

“I’m alright,” Kara reassures. She reaches for Lena’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “I promise.”

Keeping their hands joined, Lena tips her head curiously. “There’s just one thing I don’t understand.”

“Yeah?”

“If you and Alex were home—here, then why did you leave without your suit on?”

“Oh, uh...” Kara thinks for a moment. “We went out at some point. Alex convinced me to go to Al’s—the alien bar—to meet up with Maggie—which,” Kara bristles and sniffs loudly, “was extremely generous of me, considering it was sister’s night.”

She glances at Lena for validation but her best friend just blinks placidly and waits. Kara pauses to wonder if she’s causing any sort of distress with all of the alien information she’s tossing her way. After a few seconds of Kara studying her, Lena finally raises her eyebrows in question.

“Sorry,” Kara shakes her head. “Anyway. We went to the bar and had a couple more drinks. And then—this is where things get kind of fuzzy.” Kara blushes. “Alex left with Maggie, I think.”

“Alex left you at the bar alone? While you were clearly not sober?” Lena’s face screws into a glare of disapproval. “That doesn’t sound like Agent Danvers.”

Kara barks a laugh at the formal form of address. “No, it definitely doesn’t,” she concedes. “I don’t think she actually left me though… I remember being in a cab. And then… um. Not in a cab.”

“Did the taxi drop you off at home?”

“No?” Kara wracks her brain. “I don’t think so. I remember wandering around a park somewhere and realizing I was lost. I know the city so well from above but down here I… get a little turned around sometimes.”

Kara’s cheeks flush at the admission but Lena’s fingers flex around her hand encouragingly and she relaxes.

“Anyway, when I realized I was lost I figured it would be best if I just flew myself home.”

The logic of the moment comes rushing back all at once and Kara feels the tips of her ears go from pink to red to redder. Lena, genius that she is, puts it together rather quickly.

“But you didn’t have your suit.”

“Yeah…” Kara affirms through a dry mouth.

“So you…” Lena begins, encouraging Kara to finish. She’s too embarrassed to even try. After several moments of nothing, Lena rips off the bandaid. “So you undressed to avoid being recognized?”

There’s an inferno blazing somewhere in this room, Kara swears it. She nods, not daring to meet Lena’s eyes.

A minuscule giggle reaches her ears and she breaks.

“I—I didn’t have a choice!” Kara whines. “It was late, I was lost, and my phone was dead and I, I… didn’t know what else to do!”

“Oh dear. Good thing you’re invulnerable.” Lena chuckles. “It's okay, darling.”

“It’s not!” Kara glares over at the TV. “I thought I was being clever. I even folded my shirt and my jeans and hid them in a bush, out of sight and everything! I figured no one would recognize me if I was quick about getting home so I took off but then…”

Lena looks at her expectantly, every bit the generous friend trying to keep her laughter trapped behind her pursed lips.

“Flying felt so good.” Kara admits, contrite. “I’m always wearing that gosh-darned suit with the long sleeves and the tights and just—the warm air felt so nice on my skin. Like the night sky was hugging me hello.”

She’s pouting up a storm now. “I really didn’t expect it. And, well, I guess I was just having a really nice time and my flight home accidentally turned into….” She gestures half-heartedly to the TV. “That.”

“Oh honey.” Lena extends one arm and Kara doesn’t hesitate to dive under it, hiding her face in the comfort of Lena’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright. It’s just a minor PR snafu. You didn’t do anything wrong.

“Alex is gonna be so mad,” Kara grouses, burrowing towards the enticingly familiar scent emanating from Lena’s skin, just a few inches away.

“Perhaps,” Lena allows, rubbing up and down Kara’s arm. It helps soothe the panic that comes with the knowledge of her elder sister’s impending fury. “But you didn’t hurt anyone. And the risk to your identity seems exceedingly low. Who else knows what I gave you for Secret Santa last year?”

Kara thinks back to the holiday, to the warm glow in her apartment and the people she loves gathered to share smiles and stories and gifts. “Just the people that were there that day,” she answers. “Alex, my mom, James, and Winn. And you.”

The memory of Lena glowing alongside her family makes Kara hum happily and nuzzle a little closer. Lena’s arm tightens around Kara’s shoulders.

“And is there any risk of them putting the pieces together from this video?”

“Well, that’s not really a problem,” Kara sighs. “My family has always known. James knew before I even met him because he’s friends with Superman. And Winn is the only other person I’ve ever told.”

She freezes, nervous that the reminder of being kept in the dark might cause Lena to put some distance between them. It’s the last thing Kara wants, to hurt her best friend. Besides, she’d quite like to stay right where she is, a scant inch away from the soft skin of Lena’s collarbone.

“There you have it,” Lena soothes, mercifully unfazed by the news of others that knew before her. “This hiccup should wash away with the next news cycle.” Lena pauses, tenses a bit. “Unless…”

Kara wriggles, prompting her to continue. “Unless what?”

“Have you…” the CEO clears her throat and from this distance Kara can hear her swallow uncomfortably. “Have you shown anyone else?”

“Shown anyone what?”

“This, uh, particular outfit of yours?”

“Pshh, no.” Kara scoffs and shakes her head. The movement brings the cold tip of her nose into contact with the heavenly warmth of Lena’s skin. Kara attributes the slight shiver that runs through her friend’s body to the shock of temperature difference. “Why would I show anyone my underwear?”

When Lena grimaces, the muscles in her neck tighten and Kara instinctively tucks her head closer to smooth the tension away.

“Well,” Lena begins, sounding a bit strangled. Her voice is lower, somewhat shy, and Kara is distracted by the way it vibrates against her forehead when Lena speaks. “If you… perhaps… brought someone home with you.”

“When I invite guests over I don’t include my underwear drawer in the tour of the apartment, Lena. That’s silly.”

“No—that’s not what I—hmph.” Exasperated, Lena finally makes herself clear. “I’m asking if you’ve slept with anyone, Kara.”

The superhero jolts upright, squeaking in surprise. “What?”

Lena clenches her jaw and releases it, taking a fortifying breath. “Have you been intimate with anyone recently that might’ve seen this set of underwear?” Kara gapes like a fish out of water and Lena rolls her eyes as she spells it out, seeming oddly pained. “Could they possibly make the connection between Supergirl’s appearance tonight and your identity as Kara Danvers?”

“Oh,” Kara breathes, struggling to sit still under Lena’s scrutiny. She peels at the fraying edges of her throw pillow. “Um. No.”

“Okay.” It may be Kara’s imagination, but it almost looks like Lena heaves a sigh of relief. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I…” the corner of her mouth twitches. “There hasn’t been anyone. Not since Mon-El.”

Kara considers the nights she’s spent with people she loves instead, the extra time that not having a love interest has afforded her with Lena and feels quite at peace with this reality. She smiles. “So I guess we’re safe on that front.”

Lena smiles back, closed-mouthed but still dimpled, and Kara feels like a lava cake again.

“See? You have nothing to worry about,” the CEO assures.

“Except—can anyone trace the purchase back to you?” Kara asks suddenly. “You said it was a custom order, won’t… won’t people think that you’re Supergirl?!”

Lena bursts into laughter at the suggestion. She howls for seconds while Kara dissolves into a panic at the idea of people going after Lena, mistaking her for the drunk Kryptonian.

“Lena, this is serious,” Kara admonishes. Lena just keeps on laughing. “You could be seriously targeted! I need—I need to protect you. Someone could try to hurt you if they thought…” her wild ideas get the best of her, spiraling out of control at the mere suggestion of increased attempts on Lena’s life.

Kara spaces out, flicking rapidly from scenario to scenario about how best to protect her best friend from this type of exposure. Maybe Lena should move in with her, so Kara can keep her safe all the time. If they share a bed, Kara will know she’s protected even while unconscious. Lena maintains an office at Catco, so the workday is covered. What about bathroom breaks, would those be—

A warm palm smooths over Kara’s forearm and squeezes until her tailspin slows to a halt. “Kara, darling. Come back.”

Kara blinks forcefully once, twice, three times, and then she’s planted firmly in her living room, staring once more at the overwhelming wealth of fondness in light green eyes. Those eyes crinkle around a smile as soon as Kara fully returns to her surroundings.

“You needn’t worry about me,” Lena assures slowly. Kara wrinkles her brow and Lena explains. “I went to a store in person to place the order and made my purchases with cash. The payment isn’t traceable to my name and no one recognized me, I’m certain of it.”

Face pinched into a frown, Kara shakes her head. “Are you sure? I won’t take that risk with you, Lena.”

“I’m sure,” the CEO smiles again and it’s nearly dazzling enough to distract Kara from her panic-fueled worry storm. “I appreciate the concern, but I doubt anyone would believe that a Luthor even knows what a baseball cap is, let alone wears one.” Lena tilts her head thoughtfully. “For that matter, I doubt anyone would believe that a Luthor could secretly be Kryptonian, all things considered.”

Kara scowls at the indirect mention of Lex, but considers Lena’s logic. She’s right in the end—short of a credit card receipt with Lena’s name on it or video footage showing her obtaining the exact same garments Supergirl is wearing, it’d be nigh impossible to make the connection.

“Okay,” she finally relents. “Okay. So now all I have to worry about is Alex’s wrath.”

The thought brings another grimace to her face and she buries it into her throw pillow. Alex is going to be so mad.

“I think Alex will be fine once we talk it through with her,” Lena offers. The ‘we’ wraps around Kara like a blanket before Lena’s arms encircle her with a comfort that Kara’s powerless to resist. She drops the pillow in favor of scooting back into her previous position, nestled into the juncture of Lena’s neck and shoulder.

They sit in silence for a few minutes as Kara recovers from her shame. The lateness of the hour and the steady drum of Lena’s heart lull Kara into a dreamy, half-conscious state and before she’s fully aware of herself she asks, “Lena?”

“Hm?”

The low hum of Lena’s voice in the apartment shrouds Kara in calm and she instinctively adjusts so she can press her nose and mouth the source of that heavenly vibration. Lena gulps and Kara is too sleepy to think anything of it.

“You aren’t mad?”

“Mad?” Lena repeats. “Why?”

“You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you my secret?”

“No, darling, I’m not mad,” Lena mutters softly and places a gentle hand on the side of Kara’s head. “It’s your secret to tell. What matters to me is that you’re safe. That’s all.”

The Kryptonian smiles and snuggles close. “Well, I’m really glad that you know now. And that you still like me. There’s so much I wanna tell you.” She pouts. “No more secrets for us.”

“Of course I still like you.” Then, most miraculous of all, Lena drops a soft kiss to Kara’s forehead. “You’re lovely, Kara. Being Supergirl doesn’t change that.”

Kara hums contentedly and drowsily returns the kiss wherever she can reach. Which happens to be the exposed jut of Lena’s collarbone. She notices a shift immediately—Lena’s muscles sing with tautness and her heart rate skyrockets.

“Lena?”

“Mm?” Her response is slightly high-pitched this time, even if the rumble of it still rolls through Kara like thunder.

“Why is your heartbeat so fast?”

“What—how can you even—oh. Superhearing. Of course.”

“Mhm,” Kara smiles, wondering languidly if Lena can feel her grin even if she can’t see it, ‘cause of the way Kara’s mouth is smooshed against her neck. Lena smells really, really good.

“You smell really, really good.” Again, Lena’s heartbeat ratchets up a notch. Kara frowns.

“Lena, you need to calm down.” Kara speaks right up against the source of the hammering in her ears, feeling the corresponding pulse pound on her lips. “‘S very loud. That can’t be good for you.”

“I’m fine, Kara,” Lena squeaks. Kara has her doubts but forgets them immediately when Lena says, “Besides, I’m with Supergirl. I’m as safe as can be.”

“That’s right.” Kara grins then places another sleepy kiss directly over that drumbeat, aiming to soothe it. “Shhh, i zhao,” Kara murmurs at Lena’s pulse point. “Settle down. You’re safe. It’s sleep time now.”

The next thing she hears after a hitch in Lena’s breath is the rich sound of Lena’s chuckle. “Did you just speak Kryptonian to my heartbeat, Kara?”

“Mm, yeah.” She’s beyond sleepy, half her cognizance has already yielded to unconsciousness. “I can never sleep when it’s loud like that.”

“What do you mean never?”

“I always check on you, Lena,” Kara nuzzles. “If your heartbeat’s too loud, I get worried.”

“You… you listen for me?”

Kara frowns again. Somehow this is only making things louder. Won’t stop her from telling the truth though.

“‘Course I listen. You’re my person,” she declares with a huff and drapes an arm over Lena’s midriff. “I dunno what’s bothering you right now though. You said it yourself, you’re safe with me.”

Lena sucks in a breath and holds it. Kara knows because she can feel the rise of Lena’s chest under her cheek and the way Lena’s throat works beneath her mouth. Kara noses against her neck, willing Lena to keep breathing and relax. Eventually she does.

Lena’s sigh comes out slow and measured and finally, her heartbeat begins to slow. She leans her head overtop of Kara’s. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Mhm,” Kara agrees. “Quiet now though, ‘s time for bed.” Lena nods above her and Kara doesn’t even deign to consider that they’re both still half upright on the couch. She does, however, remember a passing comment from earlier in the night.

“Lena?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you tell me your secret, too?”

In the ensuing pause, Kara hears the slowing beat do a stutter step in Lena’s chest. She nuzzles into it and Lena sighs once more.

Then Kara feels the warmth of lips pressed to her temple and suddenly her own heart is mirroring the pattern of Lena’s, clamoring for more of that soft sweetness against her skin.

“I think you might already know,” Lena whispers into her hair.

With the scent of Lena in her lungs and the softness of her friend in her arms and around her, Kara thinks she does, too.

(Morning finds them in the same position hours later, curled against one another on the couch. Necks stiff and backs crooked, they startle awake to a pounding on the door and an unmistakably familiar grumbling on the other side.

“Kara, you’d better be in there! What the fuck happened last night?!”)

#silly little ficlet #crack fic #i am not planning on doing the full month #i just found this in my drafts and it had the prompt so here we are #take all the potential angst and pretend it doesn’t exist #supercorp #supercorptober2023 #ficlet

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manicpixiefelix · 7 months

Text

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 15.

Summary: Oliver's first night and the next morning at Saltburn, and you learn that not only does he know more about you and Felix than you'd assumed, but he knows even less about the social rules of a place like this than you'd imagined.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: suggestive themes, we finally get the basis of the consensual pervert/enabler dynamic between oliver/reader(/felix). its implications in this chapter but will probably get more explicit in future.

A/N: 4908 words. venetia catton is a menace to society and i am in lvoe with her. set up is being set up!! we're getting there, friends!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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You wish you hadn't looked out of the window. You wished you hadn't cracked open the door to step onto the balcony. You wished you hadn't waited up.

Dinner had ended hours ago, and Felix was well and truly asleep, but you'd left your smokes on his balcony and had taken a break from going over the guest lists for the upcoming events that Duncan had provided you with. It was something you did every year, it helped calm your anxiety around these formal events, to be well versed on all the patrons in attendance, making everyone feel as though their place at Saltburn mattered, if only for a night. There was most certainly some deep, psychological root of your crippling social anxiety and fear of faux par and failure, but that was almost certainly a problem to investigate in the future.

The lilac study had been functionally unused since before even Felix had been born, sitting idle and untouched but beautifully furnished directly across from his room, on the other side of the long gallery, with a beautiful view of the gardens. It became unofficially your study many years ago, though sometimes Felix would use it too if he had some kind of Summer project he had to attend to. But now it was yours, set up with a bulky computer for the occasional emails from your family business that you were becoming slowly more involved in. Mostly, however, you spent your time thoroughly poring over these dossiers of guest lists with attached relevant information, committing all of them to memory.

After spending most of the day high, you felt guilty enough to get a head start on the Summer that evening.

But just before midnight you'd needed a smoke.

Oliver and Venetia painted so pale in the moonlight, Oliver half dressed and clearly ready for bed, Venetia with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders that you knew she wouldn't have brought herself. It doesn't seem to be a particularly deep conversation, but you think you can see Venetia smiling, and a smile like that can never mean anything good. Surely she'd told Oliver some pretty lie about why she was out there, but her room was on the other side of the house.

Oliver is unconventionally wonderful, and she is, and forever will be, Venetia Catton.

He will fall for her tricks, and you're sure part of her, just like her brother, just like yourself, would fall for part of Oliver's unsuspecting charms.

Just like she said she had with Eddie.

No, this was deliberate, you were sure; Venetia was playing this dangerous game again.

Retiring back to your study, you make sure to keep the door ajar to hear of anyone coming through the gallery. Saltburn is a creature that groans when you tread in the wrong places; you, like Duncan, had long ago mastered the art of moving around the house in total silence. None of the Cattons had ever felt it a necessary skill to learn. Oliver hadn't even been here a day. His footsteps practically echoed like drum beats.

"Everything okay, Ollie?" You shoot for casual, voice loud enough that you know he'd hear it in the quiet ambiance of the night, but that it wouldn't disturb Felix. The footsteps stop. There's no tell-tale creak of his door. Then, he moves towards you.

"How'd you know it was me?" Oliver, at your door, is shirtless. Oh. Right. Of course he was. He had been in the garden only moments before.

"I saw you downstairs," you say, trying to regain your train of thought. It's the easiest for him to digest, and most of the truth. He hadn't seemed to like the thought of you knowing his prescription earlier, even though you were just embarrassed to admit you'd stolen his glasses for a few days back in the first few months of meeting him, throwing enough money at an optometrist that they'd figured out his prescription from his current glasses. Right now you didn't want to tell him that you had spent enough time here that you could distinguish the Cattons from their staff, and distinguish each of the Cattons by footstep alone, and that Oliver's was so blatantly different to everyone else's that it was easy to deduce it was him. No, you don't say any of that.

"Oh," Oliver says awkwardly, shivering a little. Despite the heat of the day, it had cooled off considerably, "I spotted Venetia down there, I thought she might have been sleepwalking."

"Was she?" You ask with an automatic little smile, not wanting to give away how much you knew this to be Venetia's game.

"Said she was looking at the moon."

A sight you knew was perfectly visible from her own room. But you bite your tongue on that.

"So no?" You let the smile ease to something less robotic, something knowing, and Oliver sheepishly shook his head. Settling back in your chair in the lamp light, you look him over. Had he always looked so... you remember how he'd looked in the moonlight of your room and you have to look away, lest you get yourself flustered.

"Are you alright?" Oliver speaks up, taking a step into the study, finally letting himself look around. "Thought you'd be in bed."

"I'm meant to be," you admitted, "but I was getting ahead of this year's Summer schedule," you gesture to the book, and Oliver finally comes and joins you. He leans down over your shoulder, squinting at the pages, your shoulder pressed to his hip. He squints a little longer. Ah, "you're welcome to have a good look at it tomorrow," you offered brightly, pointedly not saying when you're wearing contacts and actually able to see, but Oliver thankfully seems to take the hint, even if he's still clearly awkward about the reminder. His hand then comes to rest on your shoulder, looking down at you and the way you're glowing in the gold light.

A moment passes; there's something on his mind, but you'll never push. Eventually it always comes out. It doesn't take long this time at least.

"Felix brought someone else to Saltburn, didn't he? Before; not just you," Oliver says softly, eyebrows knitting together. Fucking Venetia, you thought ruefully. Some of it must show on your face, because Oliver's hand comes up from your shoulders, thumb against the faintest scowl that has wrinkled your brow.

"What did she tell you?"

"Nothing really," he says faintly; while his expression is no longer concerned, there's something about the way he's watching you, cataloguing every small moment and movement of your face, each looking in your eyes, everything about you and your reaction that makes you feel... studied. Catalogued. Seen. You don't flinch away, don't move, just let yourself react, and let Oliver watch all the while. Then, after a moment, his hand is moving again, holding your chin, thumb running so gently over the curve of your lips, "called me lucky is all," he mumbled, as if transfixed by your face, by the way you're allowing this moment to go on, "said you didn't even like the last one." His words dip with disdain as he recalls what Venetia had said; what a snitch she was, you found yourself thinking.

"You need to be careful, Ollie," you tell him faintly, warning on your lips as you found yourself biting your tongue on a past that you don't feel is yours to really speak on. It was true that you had never been best friends with Eddie, but you were still rather fond of him. Even if that fondness was born from Felix's. Even if you were glad to be rid of him. Even if he hadn't even made it down the driveway before you were sending emails and worming your way into the Oxford administration usernet.

"Careful of the cold-blooded Cattons?" He asks, voice surprisingly idle, as if bored by the warnings, unphased by them. Where had his earlier trepidation gotten to, you wonder, right as Oliver gently caresses your cheek, "or should I be careful of you?" There's something in his voice that you're sure you'd only heard when he was looking up from between your thighs.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself meeting his curious gaze. The lamp paints his cool skin gold. One conversation with Felix and his hesitancy is gone. It's like you picked up right where you'd left off with each other before Felix's jealousy had awoken. It's actually a little infuriating, bordering on embarrassing, how taken you are with Oliver's quiet confidence.

After a moment in which you struggle to find the right words, Oliver actually smiles at you. It's almost condescending, like he understands the effect he has on you in these moments.

"Don't be jealous, pet," he tells you. Immediate, flustered shock flashes across your face before you can even stop it. But he doesn't tease, doesn't draw out the moment, he simply lets you breathe in and adjust to the moment, to his use of the nickname.

Saltburn creaks, the tell-tale noise of the old house settling into its foundation; Oliver, unfamiliar with the way the Estate echoes it's own, predicable, discordant melody of a night, looks to the door with sudden nerves once more. Something about his momentary uncertainty of his surrounds reminds you to breathe, to settle yourself like the house you practically grew up in.

You give a tired smile like it's all merely a joke, closing the dossier on the table in front of you.

"You should go to bed, Ollie," you tell him, voice nothing but warm and gentle, "we both should." Oliver ducks his head obligingly, stepping back from your seat to give you space, but still waiting patiently for you.

Once the lamp clicks off and the two of you are drenched in darkness, Oliver's voice cuts through the darkness as the two of you make your way to the lighter, long gallery.

"It must be nice being away from Oxford, being somewhere you don't have to pretend."

"Pretend what?"

"You know, the thing that's going on with you and Felix, whatever you want to call it." He says it so casually that you respond without really thinking. After all, he had a point; it's one of the many reasons you loved Summers at Saltburn.

"I don't even know the right words for it," after a long moment to think, you admit sheepishly. Then, moving to the long gallery that's still dimly lit, you look to Oliver with mild confusion as you fully process his words, "you... know?" Oliver, shirtless and in his pyjama bottoms, leans casually against his doorframe with a coy little smile. "How much do you know?" His smile grows wider; even from here his eyes look like they're shining with amusement.

"I don't think that kind of talk's appropriate for polite company," he teases, and you can feel your heartbeat racing. Sure you weren't careful at university, but you thought you'd at least convinced everyone it was platonic. Somehow.

"What- Oliver what does that mean? What have you seen or heard or -?" You babbled, flustered beneath his knowing gaze that suddenly burned with desire.

"Don't you want to be wanted anymore?" Is all he offered, simply wishing you a good rest of your night, slipping into his room. You're left flustered and speechless and honestly getting a little hot and bothered trying to figure out exactly what he was implying, and what he had seen.

Back in your room, you flick on the lamp on your side of the bed, trying to remain as quiet as possible as to not disturb the already sleeping Felix as you undress yourself, searching for your pyjamas. You're so in your head thinking about the encounter you'd just had with Oliver, trying to understand all the implications he left unsaid, that you don't even hear Felix yawning and shifting in the bed, half woken by the light.

"Hot," he mumbles after a long, appreciative hum, wearing a wide smile that would have bordered on leering if you didn't know him better. Actually, it was leering, but if anyone was allowed to leer at you it would be half asleep Felix, "this is perfect," he muses, pulling back the blankets to make room for you on the bed next to him, "you can stay like this; come here, don't worry about the pyjamas, no-one cares about them -" and you're more than happy to tuck yourself up against him like this. Pyjamas were more a habit than anything else, and Felix draws shapes on your bare back as you're both falling asleep.

Yes, you think to yourself as you're drifting off, it is nice being away from Oxford, being somewhere you didn't have to pretend.

The next morning you decide to chalk Oliver's boldness and implications up to the late hour, and don't feel the need to mention it over breakfast. Or, well, not all of it.

"Is there something wrong with the toast, pet?" Pamela asks gently across the table, her big, doe eyes boring into you where you'd been glaring down at your plate for the past five minutes. Venetia and Farleigh have been talking quietly together on Felix's other side, clearly comparing notes on Oliver already. Looking up at her just as the other two go quiet, you try and reassure her that everything's fine, even if your face hasn't quite gotten the message.

"Come on, shouldn't you just be happy that -" Venetia starts, but you cut her off before she can say something demeaning about either yourself or Oliver, knowing her too well to trust her mouth at any time of day, even over breakfast with the whole family.

"I am happy Ollie's here, Ven," you told her flatly, leaning forward to level an unimpressed look at her around Felix, "less thrilled about you being weird and coquettish outside my window," even though your façade doesn't show it, you're pleased by the pleased little cackle Felix covers with a sip of his drink, "do they not have the moon on your side of the house?" You snipe, and Venetia immediately rolls her eyes.

"See, I told you," Farleigh clicked his tongue pointedly, refusing to look at you in this moment, "possessive."

"Existing in my own home doesn't make me weird," Venetia gives a mean, humourless smile back, "and talking to our houseguest after he approached me doesn't make me coquettish."

"It does when you're doing it in that little, damn teddy nightgown and talking shit about me!"

"Christ, Vee," Felix sighed with faint disappointment. While your ribbing could be construed as playful or even jealous, Venetia always took Felix's negativity to heart. Not that he'd ever been able to tell that; Venetia always did well to hide her hurt behind further, thorny barbs.

"I wasn't talking shit," she sighed, terribly exasperated all of a sudden, "I just told him you were like one of those angry, little purse dogs Paris Hilton carries around," Venetia said without a hint of apology or remorse, "which of course makes Felix Paris -" Felix tears his slice of toast in half and jams both halves into Venetia's cup of tea without warning, causing her to shriek with absolute indignation.

"Felix, please," Elspeth sighs from beside Pamela, who'd all but leapt from her seat with shock, watching as two of the staff suddenly swarmed the flustered young woman to start cleaning the spilled, soiled drink from the table.

"'Felix, please'?" You huff mockingly under your breath before your best mate even gets the chance to be indignant for himself, "Venetia, please," you correct haughtily, though you're quietly glad that Elspeth has chosen to pointedly ignore you. However Venetia herself casts her gaze to you and Felix, both of you wearing near identical, childish looks of irritation, to which she responds in kind. Venetia sticks her tongue out at you both.

Pamela just watches Venetia's poor teacup despairingly as it's whisked away. Elspeth sighs deeply, and asks if anyone had informed Oliver what time breakfast would be. It had slipped your mind, and judging by the look on Felix's face, it had slipped his as well.

By the time Oliver joins you all, the tense atmosphere had disappeared, easing to something light and bright as you and the Catton family looked forward to the day, and to helping Oliver get properly acquainted with the Estate. During the discussion, the planning, you make a mental note to find one of the many beautiful books on Saltburn and the intricacies of it's heritage for Oliver to have a look at if he wanted to. While the idea of researching one's holiday home may not sound like the greatest idea of fun to most people, getting familiar with the house your best friend always took for granted made you feel like you understood it better, made you feel like you knew what you were settling yourself amongst.

"Y/N, dear, is that copy of Percy Bysshe Shelley's poetry still amongst your collection?" Sir James brings up, his eyes bright and wide. The book in all it's aged glory is sitting on your shelf in Oliver's room at that moment.

Very suddenly you're hit with a rush of affection, and the memory of a sweet summer afternoon, of being captured by Love's Philosophy written so simply on those pages. Those summer afternoons turned into evenings and the maze became the kind of magical only you could seem to feel, but that Felix would always indulge you in. Oh. You had to bring Oliver along, see if he could feel it too.

"Yeah," you cleared your throat, giving Sir James a smile across the long dining table. He seems delighted, apparently having read Percy Shelley's biography not to long ago, and has since wanted to reacquaint himself with the poet's work. For a moment, Venetia lights up with genuine interest and intrigue; for as long as you'd known her, she'd shared her father's passion for history, both harbouring a peculiar fascination for the sordid private lives of prominent creative figures.

Several years ago, Venetia had gifted her father the biography of Howard Hughes for Christmas; the following year, Sir James had pulled enough strings to get them both in attendance as VIPs for The Aviator's world premiere, the film based on that very same book. Venetia says the best part was meeting and having drinks with Leo DiCaprio; the only photo that she got properly printed and framed from the premiere, the one of her and her father beaming, says she's lying. They still spend hours in the library together when James isn't working. Venetia almost seems to be relaxed in those moments, from what you'd observed.

Oliver is back to being his quiet, awkward self when he finally makes it to the table, all fidgeting and uncertain steps towards the only empty chair at the table. Venetia lights up a cigarette as a new teacup is placed in front of her, both she and Farleigh observing Oliver's every movement with anthropological curiosity. So, instead of looking at either of them, Oliver looks to you, giving an almost nervous smile as he sits gingerly.

The mood is almost cripplingly uncomfortable.

Oliver tries to order a full English breakfast; Duncan looks like he'd just called his mother a cunt to his face.

The second hand embarrassment at the failed formality makes you feel like you're seconds away from some kind of empathetic anxiety attack, so you jump to your feet as the rest of the family act like they really live in a reality where every other person knew every secret high society script they were born knowing. They recover, but not quick enough for Oliver to not be tense, nor for you to not have made your way to the breakfast table on the side.

"Breakfast is on the side, darling," Elspeth says with an almost forcibly bright air, but falters as you call out that you've got it.

"You don't need to do that -" Oliver mumbles awkwardly, but is cut off when Venetia starts actually barking at you with a wide, mean smile.

This time, Felix picked up one of the cooked tomato halves from his plate, squishing it in his hand over Venetia's new cup of tea, letting the pulpy remains splatter into her now second ruined drink that she couldn't cover fast enough.

"How would you like your eggs?" Duncan ignores the petty siblings as the poor service staff once more whisk away Venetia's teacup, much to her exasperation. Oliver looks to the butler nervously, wondering if this was a joke or a test, assuring him that he could get them himself, but it's Farleigh who cuts in, voice like ice.

"The eggs are made for you," he explains coldly, barely looking up from whatever he had been working from, but his gaze flicks from Oliver's nervous expression to you, over his shoulder, carrying a plate loaded with food and scowling at him and his tone. Finally, convinced that it wasn't a joke, Oliver awkwardly asks for fried eggs from Duncan, who complies, and simply seems glad that the interaction had ended. When you put the plate down in front of Oliver, he glances up at you, almost looking apologetic.

"You really didn't have to -"

"I know," you responded cheerfully, giving his shoulder a squeeze, "you can get yourself breakfast for the whole rest of Summer, but it's your first day."

"You're very kind, very good to me," Oliver looks up at you through his lashes, blue eyes shining, grateful, stumbling through his words, "you- you're very good." For just a moment there's a flash of something more deliberate in his eyes that the others don't seem to see, and he watches the way the praise hits you with intent.

"Oh my god," Venetia groans across the table, "it's like you want me to bark at you -"

"Venetia, I have more tomatoes," Felix warned without even looking at her, but pointing sharply to emphasise his words. You thanked him airily as you returned to your seat and he beamed at you while his sister called you both terribly childish. She did not appreciate being reminded that she was the one barking in the first place.

It's Felix who breaks the tension to tell Oliver about the earlier discussion about the Percy Shelley biography, but it's Venetia who brings up the story of the poet's doppelganger. As she regales them all with the story of the housekeeper seeing the image of Shelley waving at him out of the window before realising the poet was in Italy and he was on the third floor, she tells it as if it's simply some scandalous gossip. Felix Catton, in possession of something of a rabbit heart when it came to anything remotely spooky, begged his sister to stop, even going so far as to cover his ears, but she seemed to enjoy getting under his skin, blithely ending the story with the housekeeper drowning only hours after the event.

While Elspeth announces that the story gave her goosebumps, and you admit it did send a shiver down your spine, Farleigh blurts out, without looking up from his notebook -

"I heard he fucked his sister."

While Sir James clearly didn't appreciate the addition, it's surprisingly Oliver who finds his voice.

"I think that was Byron."

The certainty of the correction is enough to get Farleigh to actually look up from his work. That's not how this was meant to go, at least that's what you think is on Farleigh's mind. Very rarely was Farleigh corrected at Saltburn; either the Catton's weren't as well researched on whatever he was spouting nonsense about, or they simply didn't care, but the point is Farleigh wasn't corrected at Saltburn. Farleigh could get away with the little white lies he told for fun here. He certainly wasn't fact checked by a newcomer at breakfast with the whole family.

When Oliver looks away from Farleigh, across to you and Felix, he sees the near identical smug little smiles you're both giving him. Both of you look rather pleased, and you see him almost grow rather flustered across the table. At least until Duncan sets a plate of fried eggs down in front of him.

Oliver's face falls, fork prodding the warm, gooey yolks almost like he's cautious of them.

You're back to watching, to observing and cataloguing further information about your guest. Runny eggs make Oliver sick; he looks it too, or perhaps that's simply the discomfort that comes from knowing he'll have Duncan's intense presence looming over him to take away what he'd just so kindly brought. Skin prickling with discomfort and desire to help, despite knowing there was nothing you could do, you fidget and try to finish your own food.

"Think I might head down for a swim after this," you hadn't, but you needed to say something to break the silence. Venetia and Felix are both quick to jump on the idea with enthusiasm, and Farleigh reluctantly agrees, if only to not feel left out. Across from you all, Oliver's trying to make himself as small as possible as he works on the breakfast you'd brought him. Never assuming, always waiting for an invitation, even now - "you game, Ollie?" You grinned.

Of course he was.

All you could think about as you searched for your nice bathers was how different Oliver was from last night. Then, your mind wandered back to that conversation, to all he had said, all he had implied. Catching a glimpse of Felix, already ready in just his swim trunks, towel slung over his shoulder, leaning and looking so effortlessly gorgeous and tanned already in the doorframe, you think of Oliver's implications. Clearly he'd seen enough of the two of you in private to understand the extent of your actual relationship, and considering the shit you got away with in public, and how both you and Felix admittedly couldn't be too bothered with things like closing the blinds when you have other things on your mind, you've got something of an idea of what Oliver may have seen. No, it wasn't appropriate for polite company.

But he'd slept with you, had seen and possibly heard you with Felix, and clearly had a thing for Felix himself. Why was he holding back? Why was he continuing to tease you the way he had last night? What kind of game was he playing?

Fine, if Oliver wanted to be a tease, wanted to play games, you could more than match his energy.

One of the many skills you'd picked up from a life spent next to the effortlessly attractive Felix, was learning how to put in the effort to appear effortlessly attractive even in comparison, in any situation. Of course you were hot, that was a given, but there was an art to the way you moved and smiled and behaved and posed and focused attention on yourself like it was a science you'd absolutely perfected.

Which is how Oliver, the last to arrive to the little, wooden jetty by the lake, found you laying out, glittering and glistening with water as the droplets clung to you, had your flattering bathers clinging to you in just the right way. Feet hanging over the edge, you arch your back just enough to tilt your head back, to watch him approaching upside down. Hands appearing casual, but carefully placed, one rested on your hip and lower belly, while the other reached out to give him a wave, your smile wide and sharp.

The others greet him, and though his gaze momentarily flicks to them, it always returns to you. Your back arches higher as you laugh, almost lifting you up to sitting, but you lay flat when he's on the jetty, when he's standing over you with a curious look.

"Hello gorgeous Ollie," you say with a teasing grin, "was beginning to get worried we might have lost you in there," you tell him, at least trying to look like you were trying to keep your expression serious, "its a big house."

"Are you high again?" He asks, and your smile grows all wide and sharp and amused. You shake your head.

"Why?"

"No reason," he says after a beat. Again there's quiet, apart from Felix and Farleigh squabbling over something trivial back on the grass. Oliver examines you, unashamedly letting his gaze roam down your body, the way you've displayed yourself so almost casually.

"Everything alright, Ollie?" You ask after a moment, reaching out to gently touch the side of his knee, contact, reminding him all at once to get out of his head, that this was reality. But your voice drops low enough that the others wouldn't hear, hand coming away, breaking the contact as you level a Cheshire smile at him, "is there something you want?"

Already it's worth it, since you see the exact moment Oliver realises what you're playing at. There's a sharp intake of breath, but an appreciative look in his eyes that quickly flick down your body once more. Then, he turns away, face quickly turning red as you all but cackle with glee.

The game has begun.

If all Oliver Quick could bring himself to do was watch, you'd put on a fucking show.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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stevebattle · 7 months

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SEGA CHAN New Entertainment robot (1982), Sega, Tokyo, Japan. "Here comes SEGA CHAN – the fantastic, futuristic robot that's sure to be a hit at arcades, shopping malls and other family locations. SEGA CHAN delivers promotional impact where it's desired. This walking, talking marvel can shake hands, play recorded music, display videotaped messages on a built-in video screen, serve food and drinks, distribute literature and more! A special voice recognition programming device allows SEGA CHAN to answer specific questions, while touch sensors and danger prevention sensors make him completely safe to operate. By using interchangeable attachments SEGA CHAN can perform even more tasks and be adapted to so many functions that only your imagination limits his many uses!" – SEGA.

SEGA CHAN was never commercially released, but in the final two photos from Gamest Video Game Magazine (1987), we see Sega Chan outside the Hi-Tech Sega Bashamichi arcade in Yokohama, advertising Sega games.

#cybernetics #robot #sega #1982

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nichirinpen · 2 years

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DILF for Hire

TojixReader

Can also be read here on Ao3

Synopsis- You hired a stranger to accompany you to an event your Ex is attending. One thing leads to another and the next thing you know he's come home with you.

Content Warning- AFAB reader descriptions, Smut, cunnilingus, Edging, vaginal penetration

~Minors DNI~

You knew it was risky using an app to find a date. There were all those horror stories about 'ChadsList' and weirdos who kidnapped women or killed them. You hadn’t wanted to use a dating app for obvious reasons, one unsolicited dick pic was enough to have you delete them forever. But this new app that had taken the world by storm seemed reputable. At least to you it did. Called " Don’t Sweat It " it touted itself as a reliable and safe network that did everything right.

Background checks? They did it. Social media checks? Also done. Hell to even sign up to the app you had to provide your driver's license and wait a month to hear back. But you got it and got in. The level of security you knew other users had to go through put you at ease.

Maybe too much at ease. Looking at the man looming over you, the thick scar near his mouth, the way his lips curled as if he were annoyed. Perhaps it was just as bad as internet rumors said.

"You're Name . Right?" His voice was deep, the tone of annoyance sending a shiver down your spine. The man was tall, so tall he was half titled to look down at you as he waited. You nodded stiffly, looking at the app confirmation that sat cheerfully on your phone. The clean shaven smiling man in the photo was for sure him.

"You're Toji?" Your voice came out as a squeak, the words half strangled. Clearing your throat you blushed, looking back down at the app. It was indeed Toji, he looked exactly like the photo on his ad space.

That's how the app worked. They knew people wanted a reputable site for odd jobs and requests so one was built. Part of it functioned for the buying and selling of goods, the other half for finding someone to fulfill a request. Need a babysitter for a night, they had hundreds. Need someone to take grandpa to the doctor? Pick your driver. And for you, sadly, you had entered a search for a companion. Specifically one who would go to a company party with you and play boyfriend for a few hours. After scrolling past people who were definitely way too young to use the app, you had found Toji. Profile had stated he was a single dad, 34. The ad in question, " Anything goes ".

You sincerely hoped not. More so for his sake and his kid. Toji looked like he could crush someone with his bare hands but you still found the ad a tad reckless.

"So what's the plan?" His gruff voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you blinked rapidly to clear your head.

"Well. Tonight at 8 pm there's a company dinner I have to attend. Like I messaged earlier, I don't want to go alone."

Toji nodded, leaning back against the glass display he was next to. The fake cakes glittered obnoxiously, their cheerful sign telling you to ‘ check out the third floor! ’ You waited nervously, glancing about the busy space. Being smart was one thing you had wanted to do, so the local mall had seemed like the best place to meet him. Shoppers bustled about the well lit stores, chatter over-layed the low music that seeped from the old speakers. It wasn’t as packed as it normally was but that suited you just fine. There were security cameras and other people if he tried anything.

"Is that why you're all dressed up?" His question sounded judgmental. You flushed, looking down at your dress and heels. The elegant black dress paired with your favorite black heels was a muted choice. You wanted to look good but not stand out. Even so. The neckline swooped low, your breast pushed up nicely by the built in bra. And the dress hugged your form, leaving rather little to the imagination. It had been custom tailored after all, a gift of sorts meant for another occasion. You bit your lip in frustration. It made you feel like a clown wearing it in the middle of a mall where kids bustled past, pizza in hand.

"It is indeed." It was also why you had asked him to dress nice. Apparently Toji's interpretation was a tight black shirt and sweatpants. They complimented his form, but not at all what you had in mind. He looked like he was ready to go to the gym, not sit at a 5 star hotel bar and down liquor.

"We need to get you a suit." Your words seemed to annoy the man slightly. His eyebrows twitching as if he were trying to suppress a nasty comeback. Toji simply nodded and gestured for you to lead the way.

You did so, wobbling slightly in the heels as you made your way across the mall to a suit shop. It was the oldest store in the mall, it's elderly owner, one you knew well unfortunately. As you made your way to his shop you glanced at your wrist watch. 6:58 pm . Would that be enough time? You hoped so.

The bell above the door signaled your entry, the little old man scurrying from the back with a huge smile on his face. Mr. Itadori looked tired, the lines on his face deep. You noted the lack of his grandson in the shop. Poor old man must be working overtime.

"Ms. Name !!" How pleasant to see you again!" Mr. Itadori’s cheerful countenance made you feel guilty for some reason. The old man took your hands with a smile. His dry hands felt like cold paper against yours. Squeezing them gently you shot him a small smile.

"Picking up a suit for Gojo?"

You shook your head slowly. "Uh no. Gojo is. Gojo bro..." You paused, finding the words stuck in your throat. The old man looked at you worriedly, his fluffy eyebrows pinching as he waited.

"I need a suit for my friend!" You went for the easy route, gesturing to Toji. Mr. Itadori shot you a look before turning and sizing up the tall man. Your companion towered over him, his face stoic.

"Silly Toji here forgot about the company dinner tonight. So we rushed over here!". The forced cheerfulness in your voice was so blatant. You winced, knowing you had no one here fooled. Just a little longer and you could be out of here. Away from the questions that lingered in Mr. Itadori’s gaze. He would never ask, he was far too polite, but you could see he knew exactly what you weren’t saying. And he pitied you for it.

You waited as the old man took measurements and hummed over the fabric. He moved like lightning back and forth from one suit rack to the next. Toji watched impassively, his green eyes occasionally flicking over to where you sat. You hoped he would just quietly accept this and that the night would go over well. Paying 1,000 dollars for essentially a glorified escort was going to make a dent in your savings. Part of you was ashamed, the thought of using funds for such a stupid reason made you want to curl into a ball from embarrassment. But the part of you that was angry, hurt and betrayed, was stronger. 1,000 was a small price to pay if it would make Gojo Satoru jealous and maybe even hurt.

“I'm thinking we play off the black you are wearing dear.” You jumped slightly at Mr. Itadori’s voice. Nodding, you quickly focused, shoving the anger that had welled up back down. The small old man stood in front of Toji, holding a black suit with a dark red button up underneath. You tilted your head at the combo, but nodded. Mr. Itadori had been making suits for 60 years according to him. You were not about to question a master tradesman. Mr. Itadori quickly closed the curtains around the dressing area, scurrying over to you as you both waited.

“He’s a nice looking fellow.” His statement had a question hidden under it. You hummed, deciding to not open that can of worms. Mr. Itadori hummed back, his keen eyes peering at you from under bushy eyebrows.

“I’ll never give him another discount on suits.” You turned at the words, frowning slightly. Mr. Itadori jerked his head towards the shop front, gesturing to nothing in particular.

“You’re a nice woman, Gojo was lucky you ever gave him the time of day.” Mr. Itadori’s brows were furrowed as he scowled up at the ceiling. He seemed genuinely disappointed in the other man. You smiled, patting his hand gently. “You don’t have to change your business up because of me. I know he’s one of your top clients.”

Mr. Itadori grumbled, crossing his arms, “Well maybe I'll just stick him with a pin now and then.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head at the old man. He seemed pleased by your reaction, his expression clearing into a cheerful grin. Both of you turned in surprise as the curtain was roughly shoved back, revealing Toji fully dressed. The suit looked good on him, really good. You weren’t sure if it was just him or if Mr. Itadori was that good at his job. The black fabric clung in all the right places, emphasizing the muscles that sat tense beneath.

“Hmmm which tie.” Mr. Itadori held up a few, all of which Toji brushed away.

“This is good.” He unhooked the first 3 buttons of his shirt, exposing his collarbone and neck. You pretended not to see, turning to Mr. Itadori and digging through your clutch. Pulling your debit card from its spot, you handed it over with reluctance. A new suit was not on your list of monthly expenses. But hey you had come this far right?

“Ah, no.” You nearly jumped out of your skin as Toji pressed against you, the hard plane of his chest snug against your shoulder. The man knocked your hand from its outstretched position, offering up his card instead. Your eyebrows raised at that and you looked up questioningly. Toji said nothing, his nostrils flaring slightly as he looked at you.

No, not quite. You felt your cheeks and neck flush, he was very blatantly staring down your dress. The angle from his height gave him a nice view of the tops of your breasts and the hidden skin of your sternum that the dress was covering. Pretending not to notice you shifted, tucking your debit card away in your clutch.

After paying you hurriedly left the store, your watch said 7:20 . That was the perfect amount of time to get a cab to the venue. You wobbled your way down the stairs to the first floor, hell bent on making it to the front doors. Toji followed behind slowly, his hand stuffed deep in his suit pockets. He seemed unbothered whereas you were all nerves. Your stomach clenched and you again began wondering if this was a bad idea. The quest for revenge or at least a small slice of it seemed to be paved with stupidity. You chewed at your bottom lip as you pulled up the cab app. It cheerfully asked for your destination which you input with slightly trembling fingers. Pushing through the front doors of the mall, you input your address and almost immediately got a ride confirmation. Thankfully there was one a block away and you sighed as you stood at the curb waiting.

“So how bad did this guy fuck up?” Toji’s voice was low and even, his eyes roaming over your form as you turned to look at him. The question confused you for just a moment, but one look at his smug, almost cat-like smirk, you knew what he meant. Toji knew exactly why he was hired without you being forthcoming.

“Uh well.” You tapped your foot nervously against the sidewalk. The cab turned into the mall parking lot and you waited, not sure what to say. It skidded to a halt near you, the back doors unlatching. Toji opened your door for you, allowing you to slide in before he made his way around the other side. Once he was settled the cab was off, the driver quietly ignoring the two of you. With the divider in between, you knew that he couldn’t hear, not that it mattered.

“We dated for 6 years.” You leaned back in the seat with a sigh, tilting your head to look up at Toji. The man nodded, his expression apathetic.

“I bought this dress for an evening that was planned.” You paused, feeling that icy clench in your heart. It hurt to say these things out loud. You had barely acknowledged them the past few weeks, drowning your feelings with too much work and way too much pizza. But you had to confront them, that was the whole point of tonight.

“Uh three weeks ago we were supposed to sit down and he was going to propose.” You looked away from the man, your gaze locked on your reflection in the window. Toji was reflected as well, his eyes skipping over your form as he waited.

“Instead the day before I get a text. All it said was ‘It’s over ’.” You clenched your fists, your fingernails biting into your palms as you thought of the message. Of the calls being denied and then eventually you being blocked. It was as if 6 years hadn’t happened. As if you were a stranger pestering him. No goodbye, no explanation. Just over.

“Sounds like a pretentious prick.” Toji huffed. You glanced at him, slightly surprised. The older man shrugged at you, his expression impassive.

“He told you when he was going to propose?” The man shook his head, dark hair obscuring his eyes slightly. “Tacky.”

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. Truth be told you had disliked the fact that he had told you, that it had been so planned out. But that was Gojo Satoru. He was the son of a successful CEO, his life wasn’t just handed to him but also meticulously planned out. Every last detail, including breaking up with you. Your stomach churned at the thought of seeing him. What was that saying? Don’t date coworkers. You were feeling the consequences of ignoring that big time.

“It is what it is.” You sighed, glancing back out the window. A large rough hand was on your thigh, thick fingers squeezing gently. You jumped slightly, heat rushing through your veins as you stared at him. Toji shot you a smirk, fingers tightening again as he squeezed your thigh.

“Hey you paid me for the night. Let’s give the little bastard a good show eh?”

You laughed in surprise, one hand pressing against your mouth as a snort left you. Out of all the things he could say, all the reactions, this was different. Everyone else had given you sympathy mixed with a hint of ‘I told you so ’. It had infuriated you to no end the sorry and the looks that said that you should have seen this coming. Even worse, your mother making that face you knew meant ‘ What did you do wrong? ’.

But Toji? The man had withdrawn his hand but his smirk stayed the same. He looked like he lived for fucking around with people. Your eyes went to his hand, now resting in his lap. Toji had nice hands, the skin was nicked with small scars here and there, but they were charming. In an odd way.

The cab lurched to a halt and you felt your heart drop. There was the hotel, in its shiny glory. Bright lights flashed outside, a small group of press loitering around the entrance. Of course they were. Gojo posed for the camera like no other high society figure. He reveled in it. You hated it, the flashing lights, the lewd questions. Always entertained by the white haired man but never you. Nothing was worse than being splashed across the front page of a tabloid. What had they called you? ‘ The Mouse.’ You grimaced, unbuckling your seat belt.

Toji had already exited the car, yanking your door open and extending his hand. You raised an eyebrow as you stepped out, gently sliding your arm around his. Toji took the lead, his large shoulders easily punting a reporter aside as he made his way up the stairs. You kept your head ducked slightly, hoping that the unfamiliar man and your lack of flair would keep them disinterested.

“Hey, it's Ms. Mouse!” You flinched at the shout, your hand tightening on Toji’s arm. He looked down at you, taking in your pinched expression and tense body. From behind you could hear the reporter shouting again, the man’s greasy voice drawing the attention of the other reporters.

God this was a nightmare. You should have never come out.

Your heart dropped as you felt Toji’s arm leaving yours. Was this too much? You hadn’t exactly been upfront with the man. The request was simply ‘Need a date for a work event.’ .

“What the fuck did you just call my girl?” Toji barked. You watched, flabbergasted as his large hand whipped out, grabbing the weasel looking reporter by the scruff of his jacket. Toji shook the man slightly, snapping the question again. The reporter looked mortified, his waxy face going pale as he stuttered excuses and apologies. Toji merely scoffed, shaking his head before letting the man go. You watched as the reporter fell on his ass, sliding a few steps down before he caught himself.

“Let’s go.” Toji placed his hand against your waist, guiding you up the last few steps. The doormen swung the heavy gilded doors in, bowing as the two of you entered. You flashed your work badge to the security detail, Mr. Panda. The large man smiled at you, his signature hair buns wiggling slightly as you were let into the event. It was packed, event staff and your company's many employees bustling about. You recognised a few faces here and there, but the place was so packed it was hard to get anyone’s attention. Not that you necessarily wanted to at the moment. No, the target of tonight's actions would suffice.

“Ms. Mouse.” Toji snatched a champagne glass from a nearby waiter, downing it in one gulp. You nodded at his words, feeling slightly awkward. He was a stranger and yet, he was being shown the most awful and anxiety-inducing parts of your life.

“You act more like a mink.” He shot you a smile, the words and action making your heart swell for some reason. You coughed, trying to think what to say. The skin of your ears burned slightly and you hoped he hadn’t noticed. Words failed you as you trailed to the large gilded bar. Sliding up to the counter, you signaled the bartender. The young woman flashed a smile nodding dutifully as you asked for a Bailey’s.

“Irish liquor?” Toji leaned against the bar, not bothering to leave much space between the two of you. His hip pressed against yours, the warmth spreading across your skin. You nodded in response to his question, shoulders shrugging. As your drink was passed to you, you nearly spat it out as Toji asked for vodka, no ice. Shooting him a look, he merely smiled.

“I like the strong stuff, puts hair on your chest.”

You snorted in response, taking another sip of your drink, “Oh yeah you can attest to that?” The words were teasing, playful, but you could see Toji’s pupils dilate slightly at the words. He leaned in, one large finger playfully sliding down your right bicep. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mink.”

You hummed in response, the lack of words more due to you attempting to regain composure. His teasing tone and finger had your stomach fluttering. A low heat pooling in your nethers as he slid the finger back up to your shoulder.

“Oh My God!” You both flinched at the loud squeal that rang out across the venue. It was so shrill the sound somehow was louder than the rest of the party. You knew that voice all too well, with a sinking heart, you turned, glancing over your shoulder at the commotion. It was Gojo of course, his new shiny pink haired fiance plastered to his side. She was the one squealing, her shiny skin and lips reflecting the party lights all too well.

“Jesus how much plastic is pumped into that bimbo?” Toji’s question made you chuckle. He wasn’t wrong, the woman looked like she was three surgeries away from being on one of those botched surgery shows. Not that it mattered to her, no being the heiress of a large makeup company meant she had little to worry about. Especially so with her future husband secured before any surgery could go wrong.

The squealing was apparently about jewelry, because of course it was. The man was laughing, his stupid suit sparkling slightly under the bright light. It made him look ethereal, as always. Gojo was larger than life, otherworldly looking. And he knew it.

Part of you felt incredibly insulted. Had you not been dumped by him, had you never dated him and this was just a regular work event? Incredibly uncomfortable and inappropriate. No one would stop him of course, Son of the CEO and all that. But you could see the discomfort rippling through the ground, the shared glances and small grimaces.

You flinched as his gaze shifted, his fiance chattering away with one of her friends. Gojo’s icy blue eyes met yours, eyebrows lifting slightly. He was surprised you were here. You took a small step back as he started cutting across the crowd, your back hitting the bar.

“Can I touch you?” Toji’s odd question pulled you from your frozen state, you gaze lifting to his. The man was leaning awfully close, his warm breath tickling your forehead. His eyes crinkled in the corner and the grin he was wearing was definitely a shit eating one. Toji was up to something.

Your gaze went back to Gojo, the man stopped by a few coworkers and blessedly still several feet away. His eyes kept flicking to you however, the blue you once loved making your stomach cramp with worry. Looking back at Toji, you nodded once, wondering what he was up to. It wasn’t like he had asked to touch you early on the stairs.

Toji leaned in, one hand sliding around your waist while the other tugged your chin up, tilting your head towards his. You gasped in shock as his warm lips met yours. His tongue slid into your mouth, teeth clicking together slightly at the passion in which he kissed. Toji pressed against you, the hand at your waist sliding lower until he was grabbing a handful of your ass. It made your knees weak. His rough kiss was breathtaking, literally. You flushed, pulling away to catch your breath.

Toji smirked, his eyes not on you but over your head. Without turning you knew he was staring down Gojo. Something very few people had the balls to do around here.

“I am going to freshen up in the bathroom.” You stated shakily, your face tomato red. Also regain your composure, how many coworkers had just seen him grab your ass like that?

Toji merely smirked at your words, downing his vodka in a single gulp. You scurried away, slipping down the back hall and into the ladies room. There was no makeup to fix, you had opted for a simple lip gloss. You dabbed a wet paper towel around your lips, taking off the excess gloss that had been smeared there. There was nothing to do about the bright red of your face, time would cool your flushed cheeks. You were tempted to splash cold water on your face, but that would lead to drippy mascara.

Opting to not stress about it, you took a deep breath, puffing out your chest slightly as you fixed your dress. You looked good and you had successfully gotten in a little jab at Gojo. It wasn’t much, but it was as good as it was going to get. He was a spoiled rich boy, he would forget you and forget this moment in a matter of days.

Stepping from the bathroom, you started down the hall, back to the loud noise of the party. Your head felt slightly foggy still from the kiss, like Toji had somehow stolen your breath. Cheeks burning brighter, you felt your stomach tighten at the thought of his lips against yours again, his hands sliding over your skin.

“So who is the meathead?” You spun around, the train of thought broken. To your dismay the worst case scenario was playing out. Gojo, in his bright blue suit, stupid dark shades nestled in his hair, stood in the hall. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, he sauntered up to you. He was upset, despite his large grin. There were creases near his eyes, a slight twitch in the right corner of his mouth. Gojo was just barely keeping it together.

Toji had really gotten under his skin. You swallowed the urge to smirk, leaning against the hallway wall casually. Feigning disinterest, you gestured down the hall, back to the large crowd.

“You mean my date? Toji?”

Gojo nodded, “Yeah, since when have muscle heads been your type?” He was definitely irritated and as he took another step forward, you shrank back. The super angry part of you wanted to ask what was so great about his new bimbo fiance. But you didn’t have the heart. She wasn’t the one who broke your heart, she wasn’t the one who had ignored your texts and calls for answers. Just because she had chosen an unfortunate set of surgeries didn’t mean you could be nasty about her. It would make you no better than Gojo.

“I'm surprised a guy like him even has a suit.” Gojo laughed, the sound slightly strangled. You took another step back, lips pulling in a straight line as you attempted to swallow the small pang of fear that bubbled up in your chest. Gojo was known for always getting his way, known for jealousy. You had seen it while dating him, the anger and stonewalling he would direct at you when someone dared glance at you the wrong way. As if the glances of strangers were your fault.

“Kinda soon after a breakup to let another man shove his tongue down your throat?” His voice was much too loud, a half yell that felt like it echoed around you.

“Says the man who dumped me for a heiress.” You snapped back, crossing your arms against your chest as you leaned back, trying to avoid his advancing pace. Your words irked him, his thin white eyebrows dancing slightly as he tried and failed to hide the snarl that flashed across his face.

“You know I was going to be nice.” Gojo laughed, brushing a hand through his hair roughly. His stupid small glasses were flung off, skittering across the floor behind him. The man paid no mind, leaning forward as he spoke. He looked almost manic and as he opened his mouth again you caught a whiff of alcohol.

Just great. Drunk Gojo was a persistent asshole who would whine, yell and cry until he got his way.

“After Hillary and I got married, I was going to let you be my mistress.” He spoke with such sincerity it was laughable. You snorted, one hand coming up to cover your mouth as your brain tried and failed to think of a snappy response.

“No thank you.” A simple answer, but your words upset him, the man swaying as he took another step forward. His brow crinkled and you could see tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. He would cry, then yell until finally you crumbled. Or at least that was what he was expecting. But you were no longer dating him, no longer giving him your heart on a silver platter.

“No one else is gonna give you what I can.” His words slurred slightly, a single tear sliding down his cheek. What he was giving you was the start of a migraine. But you had no time to respond, a warm hand sliding around your waist. It was Toji, glaring at the other man. You relaxed slightly, pressing against him with a small sigh. He was a stranger but still more welcome than the sniveling man that stood in front of you.

Gojo stood up straight, his jaw clenching as he took in the tall man. His blue eyes shifted back to you, once again shining with tears.

“Please, no one else can give you what you want. Just me.” Gojo’s lips trembled as he looked at you, his eyes begging you for an answer. Instead of tugging at your heart, it made you angry. You clenched your fists, trying to think of an appropriate response.

“Full offense pal but you don’t strike me as the pussy eating type.” You let out a shriek of mixed shock and delight at Toji’s words. The man smirked at you, his fingers tightened slightly on your waist and you became painfully aware of just how warm he was. Gojo for his part was standing in shock, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Speaking of, let’s get outta here.” Toji laughed this time at your look of disbelief. You allowed him to shepard you away from Gojo, your face burning red at his words. Gojo was shouting something as you made your way to the front door, but you couldn’t hear it. Rather your mind didn’t bother to pick it up. You were too focused on Toji’s hand, it had slid back down to your ass, thick fingers squeezing the flesh gently as you walked.

“Fuck that guy.” You nodded numbly at Toji’s words, blinking as he shoved something in your hands. It was your clutch, you must’ve forgotten it at the bar. You took it gratefully, fishing your phone out clumsy.

“Your place?” Toji asked, his voice low. You blinked at him in surprise, your hands freezing mid air. What did he mean? You tilted your head, brow furrowing as you waited for him to elaborate.

“I was serious.” He gestured back towards the hotel venue. Your frown deepened. Serious about what?

“You look stressed, getting eaten out might relax you.” He spoke so matter of factly, no trace of teasing or sarcasm. His expression was genuine for the first time that night. You felt your mouth drop open as you sputtered, unsure of how to respond. Was he serious? Part of you hoped so, the thought of his head between your legs, green eyes watching as his tongue lapped at your folds. It made your knees weak.

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of that train of thought. He was still a stranger. Toji waited, a small smirk on his lips as if he knew the internal battle you were having. Plucking your phone from your hands, he opened your messaging app. You watched as he clicked on your most frequent contact, Nobara. Toji lifted the phone slightly, snapping a selfie of the two of you. In it you looked slightly dumbfounded, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. He sent the photo, then handed the phone back to you.

“Now your best friend knows how I look.”

This guy was too smooth. You bit your lip, looking down at your phone as you thought. To your place or not? As if to give you a nudge, Nobara responded. ‘Please tell me you got a piece of that beef cake.’

You opened the Cab app, quickly typing in your address. Looking back up, you wiggled the phone at the man. He smiled, slipping his arm around your waist and escorting you down the stairs. There was no more press outside blessedly, they had either left or slipped into the venue uninvited. Looking up at the night sky, you chewed at your bottom lip, heart racing as you thought of what you were about to do. This was utterly unlike you. And yet, you found yourself incredibly thrilled.

The cab arrived and as you sat in the back, you couldn’t help but bounce your leg. You could hear your heartbeat as the cab turned on familiar streets and made its way towards your apartment. Toji looked calm, leaning back against the seat as he watched you. His gaze was almost predatory, green eyes narrowed to slits. It made your heart skip a beat.

The cab stopped and for a moment you were frozen. Then you were out, walking shakily up the stairs to your apartment building. Your key card got you inside and then the two of you were making the long trek up to the 8th floor. The excitement waned slightly as you stumbled up a step, your heels catching on the metal stairs.

“Which floor?” You looked up at his question, wiggling your heel from the stupid gap between the metal slats. Toji motioned up the stairs, wordlessly asking his question again.

“Oh! 8th Floor.” He nodded, then swooped in, lifting you with ease. You squawked in surprise, the hard planes of his shoulder digging into your stomach. Toji bolted up the stairs, easily clearing the long trek in a matter of moments. You stared, impressed as he set you down. The man wasn’t even winded. He seemed to know what you were thinking, flexing his chest, the buttons of the suit visibly strained, just barely keeping together.

Your hands trembled slightly as you swiped your key-card again, your heart pounding so hard you could hear it. The thrill of doing something like this was making you dizzy with excitement. Opening the door, you tiptoed past your two neighbors to your apartment at the very end of the hall. The door creaked as you opened it and slipped inside. Toji followed, his eyes roaming around your rather messy apartment. You felt a twinge of embarrassment, the pile of clothing near the door was meant for donation, yet you hadn’t had the time or the heart to take them away just yet. Nearly everything in that pile was gifted by Gojo or something he had mentioned as his favorite. It was a sad reminder of the past, one you wished never happened.

Kicking off your heels, you crouched, rubbing at your feet. The shoes while amazing looking pinched your toes way too much. You wiggled the appendages as blood rushed back into your pinky toes.

“Did you pick this or him?” Toji’s voice sounded judgmental and as you turned to look you felt your face heating up again. He had plucked the light blue lace lingerie that had been sitting on the top of the pile. Shaking your head, you stood and snatched it from him.

“Him.” You tossed the garment back on the pile, your shoulders slightly tense. It was hitting you again that Toji was a complete stranger. You felt nervous, fingers twisting together slightly as you stared up at him.

“What do you prefer?” Toji leaned in as he asked the question, his eyes narrowed to slits. He was teasing you, his pupils dilating as he took in your look of questioning surprise.

“Honestly?” You picked at the fabric of your dress, unsure of where to look but not wanting to meet his intense gaze. “Nothing. No fancy lace, no leather or anything like that.”

Toji smiled at that, nodding. He didn’t comment on your opinion as you expected. Most men did, asking why you didn’t feel sexy or what was wrong with looking good. You thought you did look good, no wrappings or decoration needed.

“So. We’re doing this?” You gestured lamely towards your bedroom. The open door showing your black comforter and the closed blinds beyond. Toji shrugged, reaching up to undo his suit jacket buttons.

“Only if you want to. If not, I can leave.” His words hung in the air, green eyes locked on your face as he waited for your decision. You chewed at your bottom lip, gaze flicking between him and your bedroom. It wasn’t like you were drunk, quite the opposite you were fully lucid. And as odd as he was, Toji didn’t scare you, didn’t set off any alarms. In fact the only thing he set off was your arousal. The man had teased you already to the point of being wet.

Taking his large hand in yours, you led him to the bedroom, closing the door behind you. The apartment complex was touted as being sound proof, but you still didn’t want your floor neighbors hearing anything.

Turning back to him, you held your arms awkwardly to your sides, unsure of the next step. You had never had sex randomly with a stranger. It was always with a partner that you had been dating for a good amount of time. This was new and you were feeling slightly insecure. You shifted nervously, biting your lip as you tried to think of the first move.

Toji sat on the bed, shrugging his suit jacket off and tossing it on the floor. You watched, slightly mesmerized as he rolled up his sleeves. His muscles rolled under the tight shirt, their outlines tantalizing beneath the red fabric. Toji caught your glance, smirking slightly as he shifted his leg, spreading them open as he patted his thigh.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, head tilting as you watched him pat his thigh again. Slowly, you shuffled over, face burning as you sat on his right thigh.

“What do you like?” His question had you pause, eyes searching his face as you pondered. Had any of your previous partners ever asked you that before? You didn’t think so.

Cheeks burning, you ducked your head slightly, eyes locked on your hands which sat limply in your lap. Toji’s chest was warm against your side, his large hand resting against your waist gently. You shivered as his lips brushed against the skin of your neck, the sensation exhilarating. He bit the skin gently, your heart rate picking up at the action.

“Im not sure.” You answered honestly. Gojo hadn’t been the best of partners, despite 6 years together you could easily count the few amount of times he had made you orgasm on your hands. He had been very selfish in the bedroom, often leaving you feeling like a glorified sex doll rather than a partner. Before him had been partners as inexperienced as you, awkward fumbling, not quite figuring things out. You had yet to be with anyone who was experienced. The thought had you blushing deeper, more so from embarrassment at the unspoken revelation.

“Can I take the lead then?” Toji nibbled at your ear, his grip on your waist tightening. You nodded slowly, your heart rate picking up again as a shiver ran down your spine. His hand slid to the zipper at the back of your dress, fingers quickly tugging it down. You shivered as the dress opened, the warmth it had been holding being replaced by cool air.

Toji’s large hand moved to your back, fingers pressing against your spine as he drew his hand downwards. You sat, eyes wide and lips slightly parted as you waited for his next move. His eyes weren’t on you, not quite. Toji was focused on your skin, his lips moving so softly against your shoulder that it tickled.

The man had come off earlier as impatient and slightly crass. But now he was moving achingly slow. He smirked at his expression and you felt your face flush deeper. Toji was doing this on purpose, he was teasing you.

“No bra?” His thick fingers tugged at the back of the dress, the fabric quickly sliding down to your waist. You shivered, goosebumps cropping up as the cool air hit your chest. Nipples standing on end, you let out a small sigh as you shook your head. “Built into the dress.”

Toji hummed at this, his eyes locked onto your breasts. If you didn’t know any better you would think this was his first time seeing a pair. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated. A puff of air left his lips and you laughed, deciding to tease him back.

“So you’re a boob man huh?” Your words set forth a flurry of motion. Toji’s movements were so fast and fluid you barely had time to register the fact that he had indeed moved until you were on your back on the bed. Your mouth dropped open, heart racing as you stared up at the man crouch on top of you.

“I am an everything man.” Toji practically purred, his voice so low you almost didn’t hear it. Part of you wanted to laugh at the words, but he spoke with such conviction all you could do was nod, lips parting as you stared up at him. You shivered as he shifted, tugging your dress from your hips and tossing it aside. Both of you paused, you from embarrassment, Toji looking near feral. With how tight the dress had been, wearing underwear really wasn’t an option. You pressed your thighs together, your face burning as you looked away, not wanting to look at Toji.

The older man laughed, licking his lips as he straightened. His fingers deftly undid the buttons on his shirt, the red fabric flying to the far corner of your bedroom. The white undershirt quickly followed, leaving his chest exposed. You swallowed at the sight.

Beefcake indeed. Toji was built, his broad shoulders and chest complimented by his rather slender looking waist. Scars littered his skin, the small marks scattered about wildly. His muscles rippled beneath his skin, making you wonder just how he worked out to be that in shape.

‘Triangle Shaped’ Popped into your mind and you giggled. Toji squinted at the noise, his belt half undone. You bit your bottom lip, watching as the belt slowly slid from the pant loops. It too was tossed, the sharp noise of his zipper following the sound of the belt hitting your dresser. Bright green boxers made your eyebrow lift slightly and you stifled another giggle. Not at all what you had expected.

Leaving just his boxers on, the nice suit pants quickly lay draped across the floor. Toji joined them, to his knees at the edge of your bed. You lifted yourself on your elbows to see him better, waiting for his next move.

“OH!” You gasped as he grabbed both of your ankles, tugging you to the very edge of the bed. His head was positioned right above your cunt, warm breath fanning across your skin. You shivered in excitement, eyes wide as you watched him.

Toji spread your legs, warm breath tickling the sensitive wet flesh of your pussy. You shivered again in his grip, the warm puffs of air feeling teasing as they slid over your skin. His grip shifted from your ankles, sliding tantalizingly slow down your calves, then thighs. He finally rested his thick fingers on your waist, pinning your legs in place on either side of his head.

“You like teasing?” Your question was slightly shaky, your heart beat making your lungs feel breathless and head hazy. Toji smirked, nodding as he licked his lips. His dark hair obscured his eyes slightly, the green hue of his pupils nearly hidden beneath the dark curtain. It was like being stared at by a hungry predator. You wanted to urge him to start, to stop staring so intensely, but your words sat trapped in your chest. The anticipation was too thrilling, your body angled towards him as you waited, breathless.

Toji bent his head, lips gently caressing your inner thigh. The touch was barely there, each one butterfly light as he trailed down to the apex of your thighs. A strand of dark hair tickled against your other thigh, the sensation matching his infuriated soft kisses. You squirmed slightly in his touch, stilling as his hands tightened their hold. Toji paused, looking at you through his lashes.

“Be still darling.” You nodded, suppressing the shiver that ran down your spine. The man smiled at you, his grin sharp and catlike.

“Good girl.” He pressed a kiss against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure deep through your core. You gasped, trying your best not to let your hips buck into his face. Toji chuckled, tongue sliding roughly across your clit. You moaned quietly, clamping a hand over your mouth as he dragged his tongue across your folds. His tongue was burning hot against your pussy, the warmth he radiating seeming to all spill out through his mouth. Your fingers tightened over your mouth, a strangled moan slipping out.

Toji bent forward, his nose rubbing against your clit as one hand slid up your side, tugging your elbow and pulling hand from your mouth. He wanted to hear you, a fact that had your face bright red.

His hand slid back down your side, rough fingertips teasing as he slid the hand up your thigh then down. You whined low as you felt a finger slide against your folds, the finger resting at your entrance. His lips were on your clit again, sucking harshly as the finger gently circled your entrance. You wiggled your hips slightly, breath coming in pants as he continued with the slow torturous pleasure. Toji chuckled again, the vibrations making you whine.

He pulled away from your clit with a pop, pressing his tongue flat against your folds as he slipped a finger inside you. The thick digit was met with slight resistance, your walls tightening around the finger slightly.

You shivered as Toji began pumping his finger achingly slow, the pleasure a dull burning in your stomach. He ran his tongue up your pussy, laving at your clit before turning suddenly and biting the inside of your thigh. You yelped in surprise, hips bucking up in response.

The action shoved his finger deeper, your walls fluttering slightly as his finger scraped against the sensitive flesh.

Toji slipped in a second finger, the action stretching you. He chuckled at your red face and the short panting breaths you let you. The man was reveling in teasing you. He spread his fingers wide, the ache of feeling overly stretched starting up. You let out a whine, hips moving as he began rhythmically pumping his fingers. His rough skin felt heavenly, the friction building the tight heat coiling in your abdomen. Toji hadn’t broken his intense gaze, his eyes drinking in your gentle writhing as he pushed his thick fingers in deeper with each stroke. It was erotic in an odd way, you liked how he looked at you.

Toji’s teeth scraped over your clit, the action sending you over the edge. You gasped as you came, your walls spasming around his still pumping fingers.

Toji pulled back, letting your legs dangle limply over the edge of the bed. He smirked as he licked his fingers clean, eyes crinkling with amusement as he took in your relaxed form.

“Feeling better?” Toji teased, nudging your leg with his knee. You nodded, it had been a while since you had orgasmed. Toji smirked, turning and grabbing his slacks from the ground. You sat up, confused as he started tugging his pants on.

“You’re leaving?” You tilted your head as you asked, brow furrowing. Toji paused, one eyebrow raising as he looked at you.

“I said I’d eat you out and I did.”

You nodded slowly, gesturing with one hand to his very tented boxers. “What about you?”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, glancing down briefly before back up at you. “I didn’t want to impose. I'm not a horny teen, I’m not pushy with women I barely know.”

You blushed at his words, they rang true. He was right, you were just strangers. Still, you felt the heat in your stomach coiling again, not quite wanting the night to end. “Well, I wouldn’t mind.” You bit your lip as you spoke, “If you were a little pushy.”

He stood for a moment, hands on the waist of his slacks as he decided. To your delight, the pants were dropped, Toji kicking them off with a grin.

“I can blow you?” You suggested, feeling slightly embarrassed to utter the words. Toji shook his head. “Gagging is a turn off.”

You opened your mouth to state you wouldn’t gag, and found yourself speechless as he dropped his boxers. Maybe you would gag, the man was thick, much thicker than you thought possible. What he lacked in length he made up for in girth. You shivered as he gave himself a quick pump, his thumb rubbing against the beads of precum that sat on the head.

“Ready?” Your nod of affirmation was jerky, your eyes locked on his cock. The man slid onto the bed and you wiggled backwards to give him room. He nestled between your legs, warm skin pressing against you.

Toji grasped both of your thighs, pulling your hips up to meet his. You gasped as he entered you, eyes wide as you struggled to accept his length. Toji was surprisingly gentle, his hips still as he waited for your body to relax. You did so slowly, moaning as he pushed further in, the stretching of your overstimulated walls making you nearly cum again. Twisting your hands in the comforter beneath you to ground yourself, you mewled as he stretched your walls further.

“Almost there.” He grunted, teeth clenched in a partial snarl as he slid in another inch. His broad chest was flushed, large arms shaking slightly as he held still again. The sight was divine, Toji looked like he was holding himself back just barely. You shifted, canting your hips into his and allowing for the last bit of him to slide in. The man grunted in surprise, hands tightening their hold on your thighs.

The grip was intense and you knew you would have bruises the next day. You found yourself shivering at the thought, walls fluttering around his cock as you drank in the sensation. Never before had you had a partner like him in your bed. It was exhilarating.

Toji drew back slightly, his thick cock rubbing against your walls as he pulled nearly all the way back. There was a small pause and then he was slamming back into you, the force mind numbing.

You let out a long gasp, head lolling back as the tip of his cock hit your cervix. The mix of pain and pleasure added to the fire in your stomach and you matched his pace as Toji began thrusting into you. Toji spat out a curse, the word strangled. You shuddered as he leaned over, biting your calf. He was like a wild animal, the odd composure from earlier slipping away as he thrust into your wet heat.

You felt your release building again, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to a second release. Walls fluttering around him, you softly let out his name, hips canting to meet his. Toji tilted his head back at his name, eyes narrow slits as he took in your light panting and sweat soaked skin.

He moved, again faster than you had time to comprehend. You cried out as he flipped you, still fully seated within your heat. You found yourself face down in the comforter, cunt aching as he pulled back and began thrusting again. Moaning into the blankets, you scrabbled to ground yourself, feeling his heavy weight pushing you further into the bed. His broad chest pressed against your back, pinning you in place as he continued his almost desperate thrusting.

You felt one of his large hands slid beneath you, roughly grabbing your breast. Toji shifted slightly, putting his weight on one elbow, the other hand pulling your hips closer roughly.

“Where?” The question confused your pleasure-addled mind. You moaned in response, pushing your hips back into him. Your walls fluttered wildly as a smaller orgasm hit you. Toji groaned, head resting against your back as he continued his pace, thrusting through your orgasm. It was too much, tears of over stimulation leaking from the corners of your eyes. Your cunt ached, each thrust scrapping harder and harder against your cervix.

“Where little mink?” His voice was strained, words coming out in a gasp. The fog in your mind cleared slightly and you pressed your hips against him. “Inside.” The word was whispered, barely audible, but Toji heard.

The man’s grip on your hip tightened painfully, his thrusting becoming erratic and sloppy as he chased his release. You moved weakly with him, feeling as though your bones were made of jelly. Toji came suddenly, his teeth latching onto the skin of your back as he thrust his cock deep within your walls. You whined at the sensation, the warm feeling of being utterly filled was erotic.

For a moment the two of you lay, locked together. You quickly caught your breath, head pressing into the comforter as the urge to sleep washed over you.

Toji rolled off of you, his limp cock slipping out. You shifted, rolling on your back to look at him. The man smirked at you, one large hand reaching out to pinch your nipples. You swatted at his hand, a laugh weakly leaving your lips.

“We should do this again.” Toji sat up, reaching to snag his boxers from the floor. You nodded quietly in response. It would be nice, maybe you could become something other than strangers.

“It’s late, so I need to get back.” He was standing now, reaching for the rest of his clothing. You sat up, feeling slightly dizzy as you watched him dress. Sluggishly you tugged on a bathrobe, ignoring the sensation of his cum sliding across your thighs.

Walking Toji to the door, you paused, looking up at the man. He leaned down, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“If you don’t mind kids, you’re more than welcome to join me tomorrow morning for breakfast.”

You raised an eyebrow at his offer, smiling in response. “I’d love that. Where should we meet?”

Toji smirked, opening the apartment door before turning to you. The look on his face was one of extreme amusement.

“How about the lobby?” You tilted your head, eyes narrowing at his teasing tone. Toji jerked his thumb to the stairwell that sat across the long hallway. “I live on the 5th floor. See you at 8?”

Your mouth fell open and you nodded stupidly as the older man laughed. He leaned in again, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before sauntering down the hall. You watched him leave, rolling your eyes at his perfectly sculpted behind. The night had not really gone as planned. But you were just fine with that.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #smut #jjk smut

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teriri-sayes · 1 year

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Reactions to Deal Maker's Chapter 196

TL;DR - Game console has a fingerprint recognition function, so Cale couldn't play it. Wi tempting Cale and Raon to stay longer. Alberu and Cale talk about Ahn Roh Man. Cale meets GoB and GoH.

Unplayable Game

So the game console wouldn't let Cale play it because there was a fingerprint recognition function. Even creating a new user needed the fingerprint of the previous owner of the game console. Thus, Cale asked Ron to borrow for a while Blood Demon's arms that got cut off before she turned to dust.

There was some details about the game. The player's avatar was a child, though the child's sex was unclear to Cale. The child stood on a meadow and five planets in different colors were in the sky.

One funny part here:

Cale: (Wait, is it okay for me to show myself operating this game console so naturally to Ron? Uhh... it's too late now though...) Cale: *smiles awkwardly at Ron* Ron: *has a strained smile* Cale: (Did he just look at me as if I'm very funny?) Ron: *reverts back to his gentle smile* I will be heading to Chief Eunuch Wi then. Cale: ...Uh, okay.

Now that this arc is nearing its end, are we finally going to have Cale's conversation with the Molans? I'll be cheering for you, Cale! 😂

Wi's Temptations

The chief eunuch pleaded to Cale to stay in the Central Plains longer by offering him lots of stuff. Slacker life? We'll grant that dream for you! Central Plains food tour? No problem! Raon wants sweets? We have the most delicious fruits, though it will only ripen in 6 months.

Cale's reaction to that was to avoid Wi and try to leave the Central Plains as soon as possible. 🤣🤣🤣 He even found Wi scary when Wi attempted to tempt Raon with sweets. But c'mon, Cale. Someone's finally offering you a chance at a slacker life, but you're running away from it?

Then again, given how the murim people were keeping their distance from Cale as if he was someone so amazing they couldn't dare to approach, Cale's reaction was not a surprise. Yes, Cale. Your bad feeling is right. They are your Caleism believers.

However, HD was now following CH around instead of Cale. What? What about my HD x Cale ship? Did I just see it sinking? Nooooo... 😭

Bright Alberu

We had another conversation with our bright sun, and they discussed about Ahn Roh Man. Cale dismissed the possibility of Ahn Roh Man being a hunter, and Alberu said he would contact Ahn Roh Man through the customer service line of Taerang to get more information.

Cale noticed that Alberu was brightly smiling, and when he asked why, Alberu replied that he had just finished talks with other countries about Cale's mine exports. Cale viewed his smile as insidious, but the author poetically described the smile as "fresher than the flowers blooming on a spring day."

Cale wanted Alberu to come with him in his world hopping, but realized that if Alberu did that, it would only be if Zed was involved and it was a dire situation. Ah, I guess we won't have Alberu going to other worlds too. 😞

Cale and the Gods

Cale finally read GoD's message, and immediately refused meeting GoB. But GoD insisted, even suggesting Cale to just have a peek of GoB's face.

However, things didn't work out for Cale because GoD told Cale that the very impatient GoB was actually heading his way! Cale was still in Blood Demon's childhood bedroom, but he suddenly heard the sound of heels and found himself alone in the room.

Just like GoD, Cale froze and found himself unable to move at the presence of GoB. And when GoB spoke, Cale thought that GoB's voice resembled an elegant old lady... YES! My theory was right! GoB's a woman! 🤩 Our dom mommy Goddess of Balance! Or was it grandma because her voice sounded like an old lady?

GoB explained to Cale that his actions were causing imbalance, and the other worlds and gods had to carry the "counteracting weights" to maintain balance. But Cale and his companions were overdoing it, so the others were having a hard time.

She was grateful to Cale for his work against the hunters, but still warned him that despite his good intentions, balance had to be maintained. And cautioned him that some of the imbalance he created might even come back and harm him and his companions who caused the imbalance. This was something that even she could not stop.

Cale was shocked at her words, and she laughed "Fufu" before proposing a solution - become a god. Okay, I seriously laughed hard at this one. 🤣🤣🤣

GoB said that if a god's myth spreads across worlds, the "laws" of those worlds would accept it as reality, and thus create a new balance. She whispered to Cale's ear if he wanted to become a god, and added that rejecting it was a bad idea.

Her voice sounded gentle and soft, but was also oppressive and insistent. Her words had an irresistible charm, but Cale resisted it. Or more like, Cale was busy trying to resist DA from running wild. 😂

However, while GoB was talking to Cale, another god arrived. It was the God of Hope (GoH), whose arrival was signaled by the flickering lights in the room. And DA's response to that was cutely hilarious. 😂

GoB: *tries to recruit Cale into godhood* DA: Don't stop me, Cale! I want to make a god kneel! Cale: (No.) DA: LET ME OUT, CALE! Cale: (Why are the ancient powers so crazy?) GoH: *arrives in the room* DA: Oh, two gods are too much. Okay, bye! Haha! Cale: (This crazy bastard...)

Ending Remarks

I very much enjoyed today's chapter. The gods part was the best. Cale's slacker life dream keeps getting further from him though... 😂Next chapter would be a continuation of Cale's meeting with the gods. Will GoH also recruit Cale to be a god? 🤣🤣🤣

P.S. GoD, you lucky guy. You get to have mommy Goddess of Balance to dominate you? 😳

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family

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daceydeath · 5 months

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Cigarettes and Cliches (Part 8)

Pairing: Felix x Reader Word Count: 4.7 Genre: Collage AU, Slow Burn Romance Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, Swearing, Explicit Activities, Alcohol

He was the most impractical guy for you to be interested in, the incredibly handsome cliché bad boy who collected girls like trophies. As hard as you wanted to hate him his persistence and hidden softer side just could be your undoing.

Managing to sneak into your shared apartment unnoticed you saw that both Seungmin and Jeongin's shoes were just abandoned in the entryway making you think they must have been at least more than tipsy when they got home the night before and from the lack of noise as you crept down the hallway it looked like they had not yet surfaced which helped you to relax and return to your room to quickly shower and change your clothes. By the time you had reemerged from your room and settled on the couch with a cup of coffee you could hear the sounds of bumping furniture and groans coming from one of the bedrooms which from the cursing that followed you recognized as Jeongin.

"Morning sunshine" you teased as his fluffy haired frowning face came around the corner into the kitchen, eyes scrunched up to protect him from the light.

"M’ning" he groaned, barely able to focus on you and he bumped straight into the cupboard he was trying to open to get a glass.

"How hard did you guys go last night?" you laughed silently getting up to help him get water and painkillers in his rather useless state “looks like it was a big one”.

"Seung and Minho had a drinking contest so he was fuuucked and I was playing beer pong and lost.... a lot" he smiled weakly taking the water and pills from you.

"I'll take some water and painkillers into Seung then and check he is still alive" you nodded knowing that they would have been so messy last night that they probably just passed out once they got into bed not noticing that you weren't home.

Taking a bottle of water into Seungmin's room you noticed he was still totally dressed from the night before and just laying on his front so you left the packet of tablets and the water on the bed side table and put your hand on his back to make sure he was in fact still breathing.

"Not dead, just wanna be" Seung's very croaky voice came from somewhere under his hood and bed head hair.

"Just checking, there's something to help" you smiled, patting his head and walking back out to the lounge room. Your phone chimed so you fished it out of your pocket to see who was texting you, only to hear more loud swearing from the kitchen as Jeongin spilled his coffee all over the counter and began wiping it up begrudgingly making you giggle again. Stepping around him you helped him pour another cup.

When can I see you again baby? I already miss you.

You read the message and grinned at the butterflies that were now filling your stomach, and were starting to make you feel a little giddy. Felix always knew how to make you feel like a silly little school girl without any effort at all.

"What are you smiling at?" Jeongin asked, screwing his eyes up as he walked into the brighter side of the room clutching the coffee in his hands tightly.

"Just funny memes" you lied easily knowing he was too hungover to challenge you anyway.

"Oh you free tonight?" He blurted suddenly louder than you expected as the thought popped into his head.

"Yes.... why?" you blinked recovering from the jump scare he had just unintentionally delivered to your system.

"Dinner, all of us, tonight" he looked up at the ceiling like he was trying to remember all the facts he needed to tell you. "So like us, Chan, Changbin and Han, maybe the whore club at 8 but I forget where".

"I can do dinner but maybe give me Chan's number so I can text him for the details" you chuckled slightly at how much Jeongin was struggling to function "Then go back to bed Innie I'll order us food for lunch that you can eat when you wake up again".

"Thank you, you are the fucking best you know that? Plus hot you're also hot" he mumbled giving you his unlocked phone and shuffling back to his bedroom. You opened his contacts scrolling through until you found Chan's number then added it to your phone, also copying out Changbin's and Han's contacts in case Chan was in the same position that Innie was in.

“When did the agreement between you and Seung to tell me I look hot or cute or whatever happen?” you asked in confusion, after his retreating figure but he totally ignored you disappearing into the darkness of his room.

Are you and the guys coming to dinner tonight?

You quickly texted to Felix before composing a text that didn't seem too random or confusing to Chan, in case he too was as under the weather as your two roommates. His reply came back pretty quickly giving you the details and being amazed that you had actually even spoken to either of your severely hungover friends.

The thing at Chan’s? Yeah we're going. We will have to sneak off so I can kiss you again baby

The images that your mind created of the two of you sneaking off had a flush creeping across your cheeks and down your neck as you read Felix’s reply. You would have to make sure that if you could sneak away you would and then it hit you that if you snuck away with Felix it would essentially be lying to your friends and the guilt began to set in. Not telling either Seungmin or Jeongin was essentially lying by omission and that made you a terrible friend in your mind at least, friends don't willingly lie to their friends about things like this.

Going back into your room you started up on some homework that you knew you should have been getting done but had left for a few days. If you were going to use the too busy to come home because of schoolwork excuse you needed to get as far ahead as possible so it was believable. You knew the two small tests you had at the start of the semester were going to be easy you had been prepared for them before they were announced knowing that they were also only a mock partial exams helped too since you could, hopefully ace them, and make your parents think you were now back in the top position in each of your classes. You also knew you needed to finish the last draft of a major assignment so that you wouldn’t have to deal with the stress later. By the time lunch time rolled around and you were hungry the others still hadn’t ventured out of their rooms so you ordered as much fried chicken as you could knowing that they would be happy to eat it left over if they didn’t surface when they smelt it.

You pulled out some clothes to wear for the dinner and put them on the end of your bed, you knew you didn’t need to dress up to go the Chan’s apartment so you just grabbed some jeans that were a little tight around your butt and a slightly cropped top to that it would look like you hadn’t made no effort but you weren’t hoping to impress anyone. The buzzer from the door camera let you know the chicken had arrived and you went down to get it hoping that you would feel less nervous about what would happen later that evening. As you had predicted Seungmin managed to surface as the smell of fresh hot fried chicken followed you up the hallway and Jeongin followed suit sitting down at the table while you got them a hangover cure each and yourself a juice.

“Fried chicken, top choice” Seungmin smiled, taking a drumstick and tearing into it like a starving caveman making you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Again the best” Jeongin agreed, picking up his own piece but not shoving it in his mouth quite as enthusiastically as Seungmin.

“I texted Chan and it's 8 o’clock tonight and their apartment” you informed both of them “I said you were both in but you can text him if you don’t want to go”.

You showered and started getting ready, your preplanned outfit and basic makeup to make you like nice but not too out of the ordinary, finally throwing Felix’s hoodie over your outfit so that you would be warm on the way there and also so you smell his scent without actually being close to him. If Seungmin or Jeongin noticed that it was a different hoodie they didn’t say anything but you did often wear super comfortable clothes which did annoy Jeongin at least to no end, so another large hoodie was nothing to take note of. Jeongin drove, having been sure that he was not going to have any alcohol left in his system and you sat in the back watching the buildings go by until you got to Chan’s. Knocking on his door, you waited with the boys watching the last of the colored traces of the day fade into the inky darkness of dusk, you suddenly realized that this must be what it was like to be normal, have a normal social life and a normal set of friends. It caused a small ache in your chest suddenly like you had missed out on something very important but it also gave you a rush of fondness for the two boys standing either side of you leaning on either the stair railing or the wall beside the door.

“Oh you two aren’t dead! Well done” Han laughed as he let you all in, listening to Seungmin grumble something under his breath as you slipped off your shoes “I’m glad you could make it tonight” He grinned at you turning his attention away from the others.

“Hi Han” you smiled back following him up the hallway to the lounge.

“The princess and her two trolls are here” Han announced as you turned into the kitchen waving to everyone else that was there. Changbin chuckled as whatever Jeongin called from down the hallway was muffled by the sounds of the six guys already milling about talking. Felix's eyes were already on you when you looked towards them, his lips turning up at the corners making you subconsciously bite your lower lip in response.

“Pleased you actually got the message about tonight” Chan shook his head at the teasing that was already ramping up.

“Thanks for inviting me Chan” you replied, making your way around the kitchen to the other side of the island bench trying not to stare at Felix as you went.

“Hello kitten” Minho smirked as you sat yourself on one of the bar stools making you roll your eyes at him.

“Minho, you seem to be in pretty good shape considering you tried to kill Seung last night” you raised your eyebrows at him finally noticing the identical looks of mischief on both he and Hyunjin’s faces.

“Aw, didn’t know you cared so much” he teased, easily making Feix’s jaw clench and you rub your temples in faux annoyance and Jeongin came and sat down next to you placing a drink in front of you.

“Ignore Captain fucks-a-lot” he sighed sticking his tongue out and Minho.

“Rude” Minho laughed playfully, punching Jeongin and going to grab a beer from the fridge.

“We're just getting pizza. Is that good for you?” Chan asked, drawing your attention away from the others.

“That’s perfect. As long as it doesn’t come with a side of anyone's psycho ex” you quipped making Han and Seungmin burst into laughter.

“Yeah I can assure you the place we get our pizzas from doesn’t have that” Chan beamed, seeming much happier that you were comfortable enough to be cracking jokes.

“When are you coming out to party with us again?” Changbin asked loudly, his voice easily blocking out the others.

“Um, I don’t know” you shrugged “I don’t want anyone to feel like they have to babysit me” you pointedly looked and Seungmin then Jeongin.

“Hey! we have cause, Felix had to rescue you last time” Seungmin challenged playfully.

“Yeah then had to sit through accusations of having sexy eyes by Innie” you gestured with your thumb to the boy to your right.

“When did I say that?” Jeongin yelped, completely confused.

“While you were staring at the ceiling I think” you recounted “you slurred something about why the fuck was Felix in the apartment, something about me being off limits and no sexy eyes then Seung had to help you get to bed”

“All of that is in fact true bro”Seungmin confirmed as more laughter filled the room.

“Well I don’t remember it so it didn’t happen” Jeongin sulked, pouting slightly. Chan ordered the pizzas on his phone and got everyone more drinks, turning on the TV to pass time until all the food arrived. You noticed how close Hyunjin and Minho were to Felix and how annoyed he seemed to be at them so you just kept your distance and subtly watched them trying to figure out what was up. Feeling a little warm with all the scrutiny you slipped Felix’s hoodie over your head laying it on your lap until you could put it somewhere safe, you didn’t notice the look that Felix gave you as your shirt rode up or the fact that all the others had seen slightly more of you than you had planned.

“So what are you doing this week? Want to come hang out with us?” Changbin asked, clearing his throat and breaking you away from another glance at Felix.

“I’m back at work next week but you can always come by and hang out there if you come around my break” you looked from him to Han who were both sitting on the other lounge to you.

“Did those bitches get expelled too?” Felix interrupted, confusing just about everyone else.

“Yes, both of them did. You don’t have to worry Felix no one is throwing hot coffee on me” you sighed heavily frowning lightly.

“Hold the fuck up what?” Han spat his voice harsher than normal as he looked between you and Felix.

“Two of Nali’s friends had planned to throw coffee on me at work, they were reported to the police and they were part of the group expelled so it’s fine. It’s over now” You explained biting on the inside of your cheek.

“Well we will definitely drop by the cafe then so we can keep an eye out” Chagbin nodded, his tone turning serious and Han and Chan both looked concerned.

“That old guy at the convenience store was right. I do have far too many bodyguards” you groaned, a loud knocking on the front door indicating that the food had arrived and you were being saved from furthering the conversation about how Felix knew this and some of the others didn’t. Lining all the pizzas up in the kitchen you all grabbed plates and helped yourself going back into the lounge to eat Chan putting a movie on in the background to fill the silence of you all chewing.

“Forgot to mention princess” Hyunjin grinned slyly “You looked extra cute in that hoodie”.

“Um, thank you Hyunjin” you answered slowly, looking at him suspiciously, noting that Minho raised his eyebrows suggestively from where he sat next to him.

“I swear I’ve seen one like that before” Minho added Hyunjins smirk growing and Felix who was now sitting at the end of the lounge beside Han and Changbin narrowed his eyes deliberately making you catch on finally to where they were going with the compliments, your stomach dropping at the realization that they both knew, because of course they knew, they lived with Felix they would recognize his clothes and here you were wearing it in front of them like an idiot.

“I imagine because it isn’t the only one in existence” you shot back hoping to sound sarcastic not panicked.

“What are you two up to?” Seungmin snapped at them, making them dissolve into knowing chuckles.

“Fuckers” Felix muttered quietly gritting his teeth.

“Idiots” Han rolled his eyes “So what kind of hours do you actually work? Can we just come hang out?”

“Oh yeah you can come by and just stay for as long as you want” you grinned toothily happy for something to change the conversation “I’m on pretty much every afternoon for the next week so starting at 2 finishing at 7. So I guess we could grab dinner one night instead if that was easier for you guys too” you mused thinking as you pulled out your phone to check if anything else was on your schedule.

“Absolutely” Chan nodded “That sounds like a good idea for us all to hang out without too much organizing”.

“And Seung and I can keep an eye out for you” Jeongin added, looking at you seriously.

“I swear you are more protective than my dad” you grumbled playfully making both Seungmin and Jeongin flush with embarrassment.

You continued talking about stupid stuff all only partially concentrating on the movie that was still playing in the background and eating until you felt like you couldn’t eat anything else. It was just another standard superhero movie so the fight scenes and graphics were easy to get lost in. Excusing yourself to the bathroom you made your way up the stairs phone in your hand as it chimed with a text.

God you looked so good in my hoodie baby ;) Just want you all to myself

You couldn’t help the spark that shot through you at Felix’s words chewing your lip. You thought about how forward you wanted to be when you responded.

I like wearing your clothes Lix, I like feeling like I’m yours.

You took a huge breath before you pressed send hoping that he would respond to that in a good way and not think you were being too much of a tease, even though part of you knew he would never think that considering how much you had already made him wait to even touch you let alone kiss you.

Fuck baby are you trying to get me to kiss you? because that is exactly how you get that to happen saying things like that.

You swallowed hard, Felix probably looked totally indifferent as they all say around drinking beer and matching the movie while you were standing in the bathroom looking like a tomato had decided to replace your face. Holding your hands under the cold running water you pressed them to your cheeks to try to calm yourself down. A soft knock made you freeze on the spot.

“It's just me baby” Felix chuckled quietly, almost sensing your dilemma. Letting out the breath you were holding you opened the door for him to find him leaning against the door frame looking devilishly handsome.

“Hi” you whispered as he stepped into the bathroom, instantly sliding his hands around your waist, his fingers brushing against your skin agonizingly slowly, before pulling you against his chest pausing to let you decide what happened next. Leaning into him you brushed your lips against his tentatively feeling him smile against your lips.

“You are definitely going to be the death of me” he murmured, kissing you needily pulling a soft moan from you as his teeth tugged on your bottom lip. Pulling away from him gently you backed out of the bathroom hoping no one would be any the wiser leaving him to shut the door behind him.

“You know I will never understand why girls take so long in the bathroom” Hyunjin smirked as you finally returned to the lounge and slipped back into the seat you had been occupying.

“I’m pretty sure it’s because we have better hygiene” you quipped looking at Hyunjin expectantly only for the others to laugh and whatever comeback he had to die on his tongue. Felix returned a couple of minutes later going to the fridge to get another drink.

“So I heard through a couple of girls that you are claiming to have a girlfriend, Lix. What the fuck is with that?” Han asked mockingly, making the others all laugh.

“Really? Is that because they came to you after I turned them down” Felix smirked, one eyebrow raised challenging Han.

“Are you going through our sloppy seconds Hannie?” Minho jeered, laughing at Han’s shocked face.

“Hardly sloppy seconds if she got rejected, is it?” Seungmin asked, brow furrowed in faux confusion.

“Even worse she’s bad enough to get turned down by Lix and you can’t even get her” Hyunjin cackled, throwing his head back.

“Who said she turned me down? But that isn’t what I was asking” Han pushed leaning towards Felix as though he expected an answer.

“Wow I’m gone for 5 minutes and were being mysoginists and slut shaming nice one boys” you screwed your nose up in slight disgust.

“Slut shaming?” Changbin parroted looking at you for an answer.

“You know most women love being referred to as sloppy seconds. It really makes us feel loved and respected” you replied deadpaned crossing your arms across your chest.

“Oh shit yeah, sorry about that” Han sheepishly scratched the back of his neck apologetically.

“I don’t care where any of you stick your dicks, as long as they aren’t psychos, but can you not be so gross in front of me?” you asked with slight disgust in your voice.

“You are right, of course we will be respectful from now on,” Chan promised, genuinely making the others murmur apologies to you and dropping the subject all together for the moment. As the night continued on you yawned your head falling back against the back of the lounge with a soft thud.

“We should get you home” Jeongin interrupted, patting your shoulder lightly. Both he and Seungmin had decided not to drink, which you were thankful for because you didn’t really want to have to visit them in hospital with alcohol poisoning.

“I’m alright Innie, we can stay as long as you want” you smiled lolling your head towards him. “Besides it’s nice to be here and not be puking with stress that a random lunatic has caused" making him grin at you.

Seungmin pulled you to your feet, stopping you from collecting the last of the plates scattered around the room and walked you towards the kitchen with Jeongin behind you. You waved around Jeongin's shoulders before stepping into the hallway and getting your shoes to go home. It had been a really nice evening. You had fun hanging out with them and nothing bad had happened which you felt was a huge success considering your previous visit to Chan’s place. Watching the streetlights pass the car window, your drooping eyelids were interrupted by your phone chiming and Seungmin and Jeongin’s conversation from the front seats.

Goodnight baby, I miss you already ;)

You typed back knowing that Felix wouldn’t be able to avoid the questions the others had now that you were away from them but that he could talk his way out of just about anything you had seen him do just that before, throwing out something else that could be used to take the piss out of one of the others to avoid having to admit anything .

Goodnight Lix

“So do you reckon the girlfriend thing is a cover to try to keep himself out of trouble? Or do you think there is some poor girl he’s leading on because she’s not bright enough to know what he’s like?” Jeongin asked Seungim, turning his head to look at him, his face red from the brightness of the traffic light in front of you.

“I’d like to think it's the former to be honest. Hyunjin said he got chewed out by the university head after the stuff with Nali so using it as an excuse to keep other loons away is a good cover” Seungmin shrugged checking the traffic before turning.

“There is a third option though but to be fair I don’t even want to entertain the idea” Jeongin sighed, checking the mirror on the back of his visor to look at you while you looked at your phone pretending to be oblivious to the conversation they were having.

“I thought of that too and I’ll be honest I don’t love the idea but we can do anything about it either way” Seungmin muttered still staring out at the traffic around you.

“I know but I worry” Jeongin sighed. “What if it turns out like last time?”. Silence filled the car and you figured the conversation must be over so you leaned against the car window shutting your eyes.

“It’s not the same situation, and Felix isn’t Hyunjin” Seungmin finally conceded, making you wonder what the hell they were talking about. You stayed in the position you were in until your phone chimed again making you frown as you opened the message.

Baby. I’m sorry Hyunjin recognized the hoodie and told Minho so they have figured it out. Well they think they have figured it out.

The feeling that bloomed in your stomach was not easy to identify, it wasn’t fear and it wasn’t worry it was something else, making you wonder did you actually care if people knew you were dating Felix? Was what was happening between you even dating?. You could tell from the way Seungmin and Jeongin spoke they were referring to you and Felix just now but they didn’t seem angry, they seemed concerned or even a little bit unwilling to accept that perhaps there was something between you.

Your thoughts were jumbled, what if the revelation of you and Felix being together made people think that there had been some truth to what Nali has said about you? Or what if by some bizarre set of circumstances your parents found out and had you pulled from university? There was no way that you could imagine that they would realistically find out, no one from home knew what you were even studying let alone what your personal life was like and none of the guys would rat you out to parents they knew treated you badly. Remaining deep in thought you missed the following messages that he sent, not even realizing until you were in your room 20 minutes later.

They won’t tell the others if you’re scared of their reactions, baby. They wouldn’t hurt you like that.

I’m willing to tell everyone we’re together if that’s what you want.

I know this is new to you, I don’t want to push you baby.

Are you overthinking again?

I’m guessing from the silence you are, I'll give you some time then.

Staring at the messages you weren't sure how to react. You had been on one date with Felix. You had kissed him a handful of times and you had shared a bed when you had gotten caught in the rain. But the futhest he had gotten with you was making out and he had even apologized about moving to fast when you had. But the fact that he had called you his girlfriend and told you repeatedly he was serious about you didn’t change thee fact that neither of you had actually discussed it, he had told you he had said it to make girls feel less hurt when he turned them down and when he said it to you it was always unserious.

Felix, am I your girlfriend? Is that what this is? Or are you still just saying that to let other girls down gently?

You washed up and changed into some pajamas so you were ready to go to bed while you waited for him to reply with anxiety gripping at your chest as you waited for the little dots to show he was typing.

Will you give me that chance? I only want you no one else matters to me just you.

Before you could answer Felix you needed to know why Seungmin and Jeongin were comparing you and Felix to their previous roommate and Hyunjin and why it was some kind of sticking point for them and since you weren’t sure if you would get the full story from them you knew you would need to ask some of the others or even Felix before you could make a decision.

A/N: Thank you for reading my lovelies as always your support means the world to me xx

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