#and getting apprehensive and not doing it. I should really do it on here honestly

[veritasangel]

Keep me close

ft. Simon Riley pt.2 here

⋆ ˚｡⋆ fem pov ୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw content {mdni} ↣ piv, oral (reader giving), cum eating, fingering, cheating? not really (reader is price's wife but it's agreed upon)

↣ John doesn't mind sharing you with one of his best...probably gonna do a part 2 to this or maybe a series?? (@shkretart is the artist for the simon and price art)

wc: 4.3k

Simon never enjoyed breaks. His body did, sure, but not his mind. Too much time to think about everything, the pain, the bloodshed he’s drowning in. Johnny would go home to see family, Price would head home to his wife and even Gaz had a partner to return to.

They’d all discreetly offered for Simon to join, but he wasn’t one for pity so it always ended with a mumbled, “God no, I’m perfectly fine with my own company, thanks.”

And he thought he was, had convinced himself that was true, but it wasn’t and subconsciously he knew that too. Every night ended with one too many drinks and an almost drunken call to one of the boys, asking one of them to take him in.

It was a few weekends later before he eventually gathered the courage to call Price.

The phone rang once, twice...fuck, maybe he should hang up.

“Hello?”

The voice not being Price's caught him off guard momentarily, of course his wife is the one to pick it up.

“Hello? Can you hear me? Simon?”

“Hi, I- Sorry to bother you Mrs Price...Is John there?" he says a little apprehensively.

“Always so formal.” you joke. “I’ll go get him.”

You make your way through the house, before approaching John in the kitchen and mouthing

'It’s Simon…sounds sad.' you frown a little as you hand the phone to your husband.

“Simon? Is everything alright?” John says as he finishes up what he'd been doing in the kitchen.

“Yeah, jus’ checking in….” he trails off, “You uh, you see the football last night?”

“Yeah, was shit.” John says, ignoring the look you're giving him.

“Yeah….”

You glare at Price to say something more substantial.

He clears his throat, “What did you really wanna talk about?”

A beat of silence.

“...I was maybe wondering if that spare bedroom offer was still available.”

“ ‘Course it is, Si. I’m offended you even have to ask.” Price sighs, shaking his head before adding, “You want a roast tonight?”

Simon lets out a small genuine laugh, “I’ll never say no to your wife’s cooking.”

“Then come over. How long you planning on staying?”

“However, long you’ll have me.” Simon mumbles.

“In that case, may as well pack a suitcase and pick a colour swatch.” Price says, half joking. 

You know he’d honestly let Simon move in if he wanted to, he was basically family and even you adored him, dark humour and stoic mask included.

As expected by Simon, the next few days flew by, as opposed to when he was alone and just trying to get by.

Waking up every morning to a nice breakfast and good company did a lot of good for him. Every now and then he had to remind himself that you were a taken woman.

“Simon!” you beam happily, “I see you’re back from your run.” you smile softly, “I went to the market earlier today so there’s some fresh fruit in the kitchen.”

“Ah, thanks doll, you’re too sweet.” Simon smiles, eyes flittering across the hall before lingering a little too long on your sundress.

God, maybe Soap was right, I do need a partner. Is this how life would be?

He shut his thoughts off, mumbling pleasantries before heading upstairs for a shower.

He also had to control his thoughts when John came up to him one afternoon stating that he had to handle something with family so he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.

Christ, he trusted him enough to leave him alone with his wife, the woman he keeps wrongfully fantasising about. Oh how he felt like an awful person.

But he refrained, kept reminding himself that he was a trained soldier. He wouldn’t give into such desires, let alone betray someone he calls family.

And so the rest of the day continued as normal, as did dinner.

Simon retired to the living room for the rest of the night, watching TV. Some time later you joined him, sitting maybe a little closer than usual but he brushed it off, only for you to then extend your legs onto his lap and he had to inhale a sharp breath to keep his cool.

His heart raced, and his hand twitched, eyes darting to the smooth skin of your legs resting way too close to his groin. “You alright there, love?” he asks.

“Mhm.” you nod and he can't tell if it's his imagination that he can see his own desire reflected in your eyes.

He couldn't hide the need in his own eyes either. They flickered with want, need. Simon shifted ever so slightly, trying to get comfortable. It was a lost cause, though, his cock had already hardened, the fabric of his pants hardly concealing it.

With great effort, he managed to restrain himself. He had to, after all, he was Price's friend and you were his wife.

“Have you checked your phone this evening?” you ask tenderly as you tilt your head at him.

“No...Why?” He asks curiously, hands already reaching for his phone, seeing a few messages from Price.

2 messages - Cap'n Figured you might need to let loose a little, maybe have someone take care of you for once....if you catch my drift. Oh but for the love of everything, please wrap it!! I don't think I'd ever live down the embarrassment if you got my missus pregnant before I did.

His heart skipped a beat as he read the message.

Smirking, he turned to look at you with a newfound light in his eyes. 'So that's how it was, huh?' Simon thought, his mind whirling. He knew Price well enough to know he'd planned this with you and he couldn't deny that he felt a surge of lust as a result.

"Well, well," Simon uttered. "Looks like Price gave us his blessing." his hand finally reaching out and brushing against your leg, before resting it there, chuckling at the goosebumps that ghosted your skin.

“So you guys planned this, huh? Don’t know whether to feel awkward or take the opportunity with no regrets?” He jokes, chuckling a little.

“It’s not a pity thing, jus’ wanna take care of you too.” you say softly as your eyes meet his.

“Surprised the fucker didn’t want to watch.”

“Oh he did.” you laugh softly, “He just didn’t know how into it you’d be.”

“...Maybe we’ll have to see for next time.” he winks.

"Next time? Getting a bit carried away, aren't we?" you quip.

Simon's palm grazed over your knee, tracing upwards as he leaned closer to you, the air between the two of you thickening with desire. "How do you plan on taking care of me, hmm?" He questioned, his voice low and seductive.

You grinned as you looked at him, your hand sliding up his thigh, stopping just before his crotch. "Well, I have an idea or two," you tilted your head at him, "but I need to know if you're game."

Your finger trailed along the outline of his erection, feeling the throbbing heat underneath the fabric, causing Simon to let out a sharp breath.

After getting the green light from Price, it was as though his brain had shut down, just allowing him to indulge in the moment. "I'm game," he answered, his voice husky, dripping with want. His hand moved on top of yours, guiding it towards his bulge.

"Good," you whispered, moving in as your lips hovered above his. He leaned in and you moved back slightly, just enough so that your lips wouldn't touch.

He chuckles darkly before grabbing your chin and forcing you to keep your gaze on him, "I thought you said you wanted to take care of me, hun." he says, "Don't be a tease." he warns

Simon's resolve wavered for a moment as your lips hung tantalisingly close to his. The game was almost too much to bear. But he wanted you badly, and that want became a demand. "Take care of me," he repeated, his voice gentler this time, pleading almost.

His heart raced as he felt your soft lips against his. The kiss was gentle and tender. As your tongue sought entry, he opened his mouth to allow it in, his own tongue dancing with yours, yielding to your lead. 

His breath hitched as you nibbled on his lower lip. The sensation went straight to his cock, making him shuffle in his seat. A low moan escaped from his lips as he deepened the kiss, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer.

The feeling of your palm against his erection through his clothing was almost too much to bear. Simon's grip on you tightened, and he groaned into the kiss. He wanted you, his cock throbbed desperately with need.

It wasn't long before Simon found himself getting carried away. His hand gripped your hip, tugging you closer, grinding his hard-on against your hand, eager for anything that could bring him closer to release.

Simon's body responded to every touch, a soft hiss escaping his throat as your tongue trailed along his jaw. His grip on you turned possessive as you moved down to kiss his neck. He gasped, and his cock twitched, desperate for your attention.

Simon's mind was a blur of lust, and all he could think of was you, your touch. He needed more, and he knew he'd crave you even more once this night was over. Price might just have to share you more often.

His head fell back, giving you full access to his now sensitive flesh, begging for more. His cock was aching so badly and he could feel the precum coating it. He felt as though he was losing control and he wanted nothing more than to feel you enveloping him.

You pull back for a moment as you tug the waistband of his sweatpants down.

His eyes flickered open, catching sight of your intent before he closed them again, basking in the feeling. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt the waistband of his sweatpants being tugged down. His cock sprang free, hard and eager, pre-cum glistening at the tip. It was thicker than John’s and the poor tip just so looked so worked up.

His breath hitched as he felt your warm, soft hand envelop his shaft. His eyes snapped open, meeting yours for a brief moment before closing once more. "God, thank you…” he murmured, his voice thick with arousal.

“I’m not God.”

A soft chuckle escaped from Simon's lips. "Fuck off." He replied, his face flushed. As you continued to stroke him, he leaned back and closed his eyes, fully submitting to your touch.

You smirk as you lean down so you're eye level with his cock, your hand still running up his shaft, brushing the pre over the tip as you lightly blew on it.

A soft moan escaped Simon's lips as you blew on his engorged tip, sending chills coursing through him. His breath hitched, his grip on his chair tightening as his knuckles turned white. "Fuck," he cursed, his head falling back once more.

He wanted more. He wanted to know what it was like to be yours, if only for a moment.

"Please...fuck, please." Simon pleads.

Your attentions had Simon close to begging, and he was hardly the kind of man to do so. Yet, here he was, desperate for your touch, needing you to take him over the edge. His hips bucked subtly, silently asking for more, demanding that you give him what he craved.

His mind raced, thinking about all the ways you could pleasure him. He wanted it all, and he needed it now. Simon liked to believe he was always in control, but right now he wasn’t so sure.

You laugh a little before kissing along his shaft, relishing in the sight of a prominent vein twitching on the underside of his cock.

Simon shivered under your touch, feeling the heat of your lips against his sensitive skin. He bit his lip, an almost inaudible whimper escaping his throat.

This was different, unlike anything he had ever experienced. He felt vulnerable to you, but he didn’t quite mind.

He had to bite his hand to stop him from shooting his cum all over your face when you'd barely even touched him. Fuck it was embarrassing, a grown man acting like a virgin over a few gentle kisses to his cock.

“Please, just– Just let me have you-”

His mind painted vivid pictures of the two of you entangled and sweaty. He wanted to give you the same pleasure you gave him. “Need to fuck you, I can’t fucking last right now.” he babbled.

Simon tried to keep his composure, but the fire inside him raged, threatening to consume him. "I need to be inside you," he panted, his body quivering. "Pleasepleaseplease... I can't- fuck, last like this."

He wasn't a man to beg, especially not for something like this, but he was helpless. Your touch had left him feeling desperate.

You looked at him as you licked along his shaft before finally taking him into your mouth. Simon's eyes widened as you took him into your mouth. His entire world focused on the incredible sensation. His entire body tensed up as your mouth worked him over.

"Fuck..." he moaned, a sheen of sweat across his face, cheeks flushed. His hips bucking slightly, yearning for more. It was almost hard to forget the man was a hardened soldier.

Each bob of your head brought him closer to his release. His moans grew louder, his movements becoming more shaky. He felt needy, desperate, even.

“Can’t cum before I’ve fucked you...” he groans. "...Need to feel you around me," Simon stammered, his voice strained. The need to feel your warmth envelop him was an intense desire. He needed to be completely consumed by you.

Yet, as you continued to focus on his cock, it seemed he was fighting a losing battle. Every trail of your tongue, your lips, your breath, brought him closer to the edge. He bit the inside of his cheek in a futile attempt to quieten himself.

His body tensed as he struggled to maintain control, his restraint quickly depleting. His mind raced as he tried to steady himself and appreciate the moment as best he could.

Simon was fully aware of what was happening, but it was like his body was betraying him, surrendering to the pleasure your mouth provided. His grip on the sofa tightened once again and a bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

The room seemed to fade away, all that existed was the direct connection between his aching cock and your skilled mouth. He was spiralling towards an inevitable conclusion.

Simon's eyes clenched tight, his body tensing as he felt the familiar build-up within him. "God-" he groaned, the sound strained and desperate. He knew he was nearing his limit, the end of his restraint.

A wave of pleasure hit him that he was powerless to resist. With a loud grunt, he let go, his cock twitching as he came, ropes of cum shooting into your waiting mouth.

Pulling away, you smiled as you looked up at him. A shudder ran through Simon's body as he came, groaning in pleasure as his hand intertwined with your free one. He stared down at you, his chest rising and falling heavily as he tried to catch his breath. He smiled weakly, a look of gratitude and appreciation in his lidded eyes.

You had given him a pleasure he never imagined possible, and he would cherish this moment.

Simon's eyes widened at the sensation of your hand returning to work on his sensitive cock. The aftershocks of his orgasm still lingered, leaving him feeling raw and needy.

He groaned, hand moving to grip your wrist as if you were the only t thing able to keep him grounded. He mumbled something incoherent, not even sure what he wanted to say with his mind racing.

Your touch was addictive, and he needed more.

“You wanted to fuck me, didn’t you?” you tease

Simon's breath hitched at your question, his eyes locking with yours. "God, yes." He confessed, the intensity in his gaze unmistakable.

A slow grin spread across his lips as his cock began to harden again. He stood up, pulling you to stand with him as his lips crashed against yours.

He was too caught up to fully undress himself or you for that matter. The kiss deepened and intensified as he pressed you up against the wall, the same wall adorned with photos of you and your husband. Your hands tangled in his hair as his free hand reached up your dress, tugging your underwear down until they pooled at your ankles. The urgency with which he did this was testament to how much he needed you.

You hand fumbled with the unit beside the two of you as you kissed. your hand roaming around the draw before reaching a condom and passing it to Simon who held onto it with one hand.

You deepened the kiss, the two of you practically breathing one another in as his fingers slid between your legs, probing your entrance, his touch both urgent and gentle. When he slipped his middle and ring finger inside, the sound was loud enough to have him grinning into the kiss.

He pulled back slightly, "You’re soaked doll," he breathed, his fingers coated in your wetness. He was aching to fill you, to take you.

"Well, I guess you don’t even need prepping," he drawled as his other hand wandered your body lovingly, despite the heat of the moment. He turned you around, your front against the wall as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your earlobe.

"Tell me you want it.” he said, the words a mixture of question and plea.

"I want this," you confirmed, your voice breathy. The vulnerability in your tone only served to heighten Simon's arousal.

He gritted his teeth, his breathing heavy as he pushed himself into you, slow at first, letting you adjust to his girth. Once fully sheathed, he held you close, his hands roaming your back before coming to rest on your hips.

His eyes closed, a low groan escaping him, "You feel amazing," he muttered as he rested his head on the back of your neck, pausing for a moment to gather himself.

Then slowly he began to move, thrusting in and out of you, setting a rhythm that built with each push. The intensity of the moment drove him wild.

The way you fit around him, the way your walls gripped his cock, it was heaven, and he wanted more. Your moans spurred him on and in this moment everything faded away for Simon. All that existed was the two of you, lost in each other.

Simon's breathing grew heavier, his thrusts becoming wilder, each one an attempt to bury himself deeper within you, to become one with you. The ferocity of his movements belied the tenderness with which he held you, as if you were a precious treasure.

“Fuck, feels like you were made for me.” he groans, “Price’ll have to watch I don’t steal you for myself.”

He chuckles as you clench around him, "You like that thought, hm?" he teases, hand taking both of your wrists in his as he held them behind your back, forcing you to rely on your tiptoes to keep you up against the wall.

His words were laced with a mix of possessiveness and adoration.He wanted to show you the affection and love you deserved, wanted to take care of you and you weren't even his. Simultaneously, he needed you to satisfy the fire within him, the passionate beast that roared to life in your presence.

In that heated embrace, Simon forgot who he was, drowning in the sheer pleasure of being with you. His thoughts blurred, and all that remained was the hunger for you.

Between thrusts, Simon teased, "He's a lucky bastard having you, ain't he? In your pretty little dresses, making his breakfast, cleaning his clothes. Such a good girl for him."

It was a mix of jealousy and admiration. He wanted to claim you for himself, to have you wait on him like that. But he was more than happy to indulge in however much or little you or John allowed him.

As his pace increased, each thrust became more fervent than the last. His thoughts were a jumble of desire. In this moment, the lines between fantasy and reality blurred, and Simon clung to this dream, hoping it would last.

He was lost in the rhythm, in the way you fit around him, in the way you responded to his every touch, in every soft sound that escaped you. There was no going back, no escape, as Simon dove headfirst into the abyss of pleasure that was you.

"He's putting a lot of faith in this condom, hell he's trusting me not to fill you up." Simon whispered in your ear, the words laden with desire. He would never actually commit to that fantasy, but he could dream.

If anything, it fuelled the fire, the knowledge that Price was trusting him to be this intimate with you. His thrusts grew more furious, each one driving him closer.

The moment was electric, and Simon found himself living for each sensation. He was chasing the edge, the precipice where pleasure surrendered to ecstasy. His hips moved with abandon, every muscle tensed, as he sought the ultimate release.

"You're mine tonight," he growled, his words filled with intent. He wanted to etch this memory in your mind, one that would leave you longing for more.

He was determined to leave an enduring mark on your soul. It was a need that had taken hold of him, and there was no going back now.

As the intensity of the moment grew, Simon could feel the pressure building within him. His thrusts grew wilder, more desperate, as he sought the release that awaited. He could sense it, feel it, just beyond his grasp.

His movements became erratic, his body trembling underneath the weight of unrelenting pleasure. A sheen of sweat coated his skin.

His grip on you tightened, holding you as he rode the wave of impending release. "Fuck, I'm gonna come," he warned, his voice thick with need.

He was at the brink of release, a long awaited one that wasn’t a result of his own hand for once. The anticipation and hunger, all leading up to this moment. 

The world around you two dissolved. It was just the two of you, caught in a symphony of lust and pleasure. Their hearts raced in unison, the rhythm of your bodies synchronised. There were no inhibitions, no boundaries, only the ever-mounting tide of ecstasy.

His body tensed, every muscle straining as the climax built. One final thrust sent him over the edge, and he released, his cum filling the condom. His free hand worked over your sensitive clit, willing you to follow behind as you cried his name, gushing around his cock.

The release was explosive, the tension that had been building between you both, finally released. He leaned in, resting against you as he lowered your wrists, arms encircling your front as he clung to you. It was a moment neither would forget, one he would think about for a long time.

The aftershocks of his orgasm rippled through him, his body still connected to yours. He held you close, as if he were afraid to let go.

"That was... something else," Simon managed to mumble, the words breaking through the haze of post-orgasmic euphoria that washed over him. A satisfied grin spread across his face, the look in his eyes a mix of contentment and pride.

He had claimed you in a way he never thought he could, and it was exhilarating. Slowly, he began to pull out, but his hands lingered on you, as if drawn to the warmth of your body.

Despite the quick encounter, Simon knew he had found something that he wanted to explore further. For now, however, he was content to simply bask in the afterglow. He exhaled a deep breath as he pulled out from you.

You took a deep breath, the action drawing Simon's gaze. As you turned around, he watched you lean against the wall, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you.

Simon's heartbeat slowed, but his chest still rose and fell rapidly. He stared at you, trying to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. This encounter had changed something between you, there was no doubt about it.

"He's a lucky man." he says resting his forehead on yours.

You let out a small laugh as you brush some hair out of Simon's face.

"And I'm lucky to be married to him."

Simon smiles as he reaches down, pulling your panties back up, along with his sweatpants."I'll have to call him in a bit to say my thanks." he quips, "Buttt, he's not gonna be back until late tomorrow and I wanna' experience fully what it'd be like to be yours." He smirks down at you, his lips hovering dangerously above yours, "You know, if you're game."

༄ cod m.list ༄ reblogs are appreciated if you like it.

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[moonstruckme]

could i request poly!marauders with reader who has trouble sleeping/insomnia pls? it’s so frustrating not being able to sleep and seeing everyone sleeping and then having a raging head and being exhausted throughout the days,,, just want someone to make the nights a little less stressful :((

Sorry for the long wait sweetness! Thanks for requesting

modern au

poly!marauderes x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You want desperately to know what time it is. With the blackout curtains covering the windows and the digital clock stowed away in the drawer of the nightstand, it’s impossible to guess whether the sun is rising outside or if it’s only an hour past when you went to bed. You honestly have no idea. It feels like you’ve been lying here for an eternity, willing yourself to relax, but in your experience it’s equally likely that ten minutes have gone by. 

It’s that much worse with your boyfriends snoozing all around you. You envy Sirius’ open-mouthed snore. You feel trapped. You want to be sleeping with them but you can’t, so you want them to be awake with you, but waking them would be cruel. When you’d first gone to bed James had held you up against him, but it hadn’t taken long after he’d fallen asleep for him to roll over, unconsciously abandoning you between his and Remus’ backsides. Remus is a light enough sleeper that you know he’ll wake if you try to get out of bed, so you’re stuck here, staring into the formless black of your room, not knowing how much longer you have to endure it. 

Eventually you sit up on your elbow, reaching over Remus to check the time on your phone. Your hand is arrested just above the nightstand. 

“What,” Remus’ voice is croaky. “What’re you doing?” 

You don’t answer, knowing an honest one will only earn you a scolding. Remus rolls over and takes you hand with him. You can just barely see the outline of his head in the darkness, but you can feel his warm breath fanning across your face. 

“You know it’s only going to make things worse,” he says quietly. 

“It's worse not knowing,” you whisper. 

Remus sighs, rubbing his thumb into the meat of your palm. Some of your apprehension eases just from having him awake with you. “I’m sorry, sweet girl.” His voice is barely a murmur, but you can feel James starting to stir at your back. “I still think we have to try what the doctor said for now, okay?” 

He pushes his warm palm flat against yours, coaxing a small “okay” out of you. 

“I can stay up with you.” 

“No,” you say, despite the selfish voice in your head going Yes!. Remus needs more sleep than the rest of you to begin with, and you’re more accustomed to going without it than he is. “That’s okay, you should sleep.” 

You’re bracing yourself for his denial when James rolls over behind you, one big arm wrapping around your front. 

“Hey,” he slurs, “where’d you go?” 

You smother a laugh and Remus makes a similarly amused sound, likely guessing what had really happened. He reaches the hand not holding yours over your head to pet James’ hair. 

“I didn’t go anywhere,” you say softly. 

“Stay put this time, hm?” James replies fondly, giving your middle a squeeze. “Y’supposed to be on cuddle duty.” 

This time you can’t suppress it, and a little giggle escapes you. “Sorry,” you say. 

Remus hums in gentled remonstrance, you’re not sure at whom. 

“You’re all being terribly loud,” Sirius groans, and then there’s a shape leering over James’ head, doubtlessly glowering down at the three of you. “Why are we awake?”

“Someone couldn’t sleep,” Remus murmurs. 

Sirius makes a whiny pitying sound, reaching over James to paw blindly at you. You inhale when his perpetually freezing fingers fumble at your collarbone. James saves you, clasping Sirius’ hand in his own. 

“What else is new,” you try to joke. It comes out sounding more glum than you’d like. “Sorry I woke you guys.” 

“No, don’t be, angel.” James’ hand finds its way underneath your sleep shirt, thumb stroking the skin just above your navel. “We’d rather be awake with you anyway.” 

Sirius makes a sound like he could disagree, but his slender fingers burrow into your hair, scratching lightly at your scalp the way he knows you like. You bear the cold for his sake. 

“There’s no point in us all being awake,” you say, though you’re nearly purring from all the loving. “S’not your problem.” 

Sirius tsks. “We’ve been over this, doll. Your problems are ours, too.” 

You hum like Yeah, I know. Sirius takes in a breath like he might say more, but Remus comes to your rescue. 

“Do you want one of us to rub your back, dove?” 

That sounds amazing, actually. But you’re not sure if it’ll help, and you don’t want to put your boyfriends to work if there’s no promise it’ll do anything. “That’s okay,” you say. 

“No, come on.” James is already turning you in his arms. He cozies up to your front, big palm splayed out over your back. “We’re supposed to get you relaxed, right?” 

You nod, and his chest feels warm against your cheek. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep, though.” 

“That’s okay,” he replies readily. “Let’s just give it a try, yeah?”

You hum, acquiescence inlaid with guilt. From behind James, you hear Sirius chide you quietly (“Stop that”) and you know he’s heard it. James likely does too, but he ignores it, big palm beginning to move in broad, slow circles on your back. You try to help as best you can, relaxing into his hold and shutting your eyes. Even so, you grow tenser with frustration the longer it doesn’t work. 

“Breathe, sweetheart,” Remus murmurs behind you. His words brush over your nape like a caress. “Relax. Listen to his heartbeat.” 

You nestle your face closer to James’ chest, and he increases the pressure on your back as if to keep you there. You can hear the steady bump-bump of his heart as well as feel it against your cheek, and something about it has a tranquilizing effect on your own. It creates a beat to match the rhythm of his hand gliding along your back, steady and unwavering. You can hear your own breathing matching up to his, Remus’ too. Distantly, you become aware that Sirius is snoring again, but the thought dissipates half-formed. Your limbs feel warm and soft as wax. 

You don’t notice James moving until his lips come down on the top of your head, his palm still wearing its same track into your back. “Love you,” he says. 

You think you echo the sentiment, but you’re too far gone to know for sure.

[livwritesstuff]

It’s uncharacteristically warm outside for late-winter in Hawkins, Indiana.

It’s 2004, and the whole entire Party is back in Hawkins to celebrate Jim and Joyce’s fifteenth wedding anniversary (it’s actually closer to their sixteenth by now, but they’ve all well and truly entered that phase of adulthood where planning things is next to impossible), and it’s the first time they’ve all been in one room since…honestly, Steve doesn’t even know when. Since Lucas’s wedding in ‘99, maybe.

Everyone is inside unwinding after dinner. Steve can hear them from where he’s sitting outside on the front deck gently rocking the porch swing Hop had installed years ago with one foot, a now-empty bottle resting on the unfinished pine floor by the other.

The front door of Jim and Joyce’s house quietly opens and Steve looks over as El steps onto the porch, closing the door behind her as soft as she’d opened it.

She pauses, her eyes turning wary as they slide off of him and onto the baby girl drifting asleep in his arms (his and Eddie’s littlest baby, Robbie – the older baby, Moe, who’s nearly three so not really a baby anymore, is inside still probably being doted on by all her aunts and uncles).

Even in her early thirties there are so many ways El is still just like the little kid Steve met back in 1984. At the same time though, she’s completely changed.

“Doin’ okay, Ellie?” he asks gently.

She nods.

“It’s getting loud,” El tells him, “Someone put on Jeopardy.” 

Yeah, that’ll do it these days – older and wiser they may all be, but any kind of trivia is still a vice for pretty much the entire Party.

“Well, you’re welcome to join us out here for as long as you like,” Steve replies.

He knows El is a little apprehensive around babies still, same as she is with cats and puppies – really anything small and vulnerable that might have been used against her many years ago, so he half-expects her to go back inside.

But she comes over and sits down next to him on the porch swing anyway and for a while, both of them are quiet.

Robbie exhales a satisfied snuffling noise that tells Steve she’s well and truly asleep.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees El’s hand twitch, like she was going to raise it but then stopped herself.

“Can I?” she asks tentatively.

“‘Course,” Steve tells her, and he watches as El runs the tips of her fingers over the wisps of soft hair on Robbie’s head.

“How old is she now?”

“Three months,” he replies, “Four in a week or so.”

“And she’s…she’s doing…good?” she asks, and there’s something so El in her tone, the same tone she always uses when she’s tip-toeing her way through something that, to her, is foreign territory.

“Mm-hm. She’s good.”

El nods.

“Your daughters are lucky,” she says, her brown eyes trained wistfully on Robbie even as she pulls her hand away. 

Steve thinks he knows what she’s getting at, but before he can ask, she keeps going.

“She’s gonna live her whole life never having to wonder if she’s loved or if she matters,” El says, “She won’t have to wonder because it’s always true. That’s special. I love Hop, and everything I have that is good is because of him, but…I still wish I could have had what you and Eddie are giving her too.”

And Steve knows exactly what she means because he feels the same way, because he thinks about it all the time, every time he thinks about his daughters and the way they are his entire world like he should have been to his own parents and yet never was, every time he thinks about himself and his father and his father’s father and knows it ends with him.

He’s not sure how to put any of that into words.

It’s El though, and he’s never really had to put those kinds of things into words with El, so he decides to just nod and settle back into the porch swing with his friend at his side and his daughter asleep in his arms and the faint noise of the people he loves most carried over them on the breeze of a warm winter evening.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

“Please.”

Stiles stands there, chewing on his pretty crimson lips, pleading.

Derek isn't fully clued in yet, but honestly, the kid is kind of vaguely breaking his heart.

“Please, Derek, I'm really sorry about this, but please just—just don't say anything, okay? And just—let me?”

Stiles had texted Derek earlier, at 3.17am, presumably just before he’d set off from his house to drive his jeep to the loft.

Derek had been lying awake in bed, unable to sleep.

His messages had read:

> dude, i rlly need to come over. that ok?

And:

> ill let myself in if thats cool?

And after a few moments, in quick succession one after the other and before Derek had a chance to respond:

> and i rlly need u to just like. not get out of bed. presuming yr already in bed

> all shall be revealed

> lol i don't know why i put that

> and obvs tell me if any of this is not ok. ok?

> as if you wouldn't lol

> #sourwolf

> and yeah i know im being a weirdo but thats why you like me

And then, a few seconds later:

> right?

Derek had stared at the flurry of messages for a minute or so, then texted back:

Okay, weirdo <

About ten minutes later, Stiles had let himself into the building. Derek listened to the kid muttering away to himself as he rode the old service elevator—except it wasn't really himself he was talking to.

“God, I hope I'm not wrong about this. Like, I think we're close enough now for it not to be weird. I mean, at least I hope we are. I'm just so fucking tired, man, and have got to get me some sleep. Anyways, just—don't get up, okay? Or, like, can you get into bed if you're not already in bed? Sorry, I know I texted you this already, I just really need you to trust me. You do know you can trust me… Right, big guy?”

Derek's trust of Stiles was implicit.

When the steel door had unlocked and slid open, Derek smelled fresh, mostly unscented shower gel over the base notes of Stiles's own cinnamon scent, mixed with the very definite chemo-signals that indicated fear, restlessness, apprehension—and also, the strongest of them all; hope.

Let me.

Here, now, Derek still doesn't know what the kid needs.

Let him what?

Derek doesn't have any more time to wonder, though, because Stiles is taking off his sneakers and pants and is slowly, very slowly—as if giving Derek the chance to protest—climbing into bed next to him.

Stiles is now in Derek's loft in the small hours, in Derek's bed, fully under Derek's covers, with Derek wearing only his grey tank and black boxer-briefs and a probably terrified look on his face.

He silently thanks the universe for the cover of night.

“Like, you should obviously say something if this is completely heinous or whatever, but otherwise just—let me do this?”

And all Derek can think is shit, he's freezing, at the same time he is going into a some sort of dumbstruck shock because Stiles is now wrapping his entire sinewy, beautiful body around the entirety of Derek's.

“This okay?” Stiles asks, the air around them spiking with the smell of his anxiety as he Big-Spoons Derek like some human-shaped octopus, skinny but strong limbs astonishingly everywhere.

And he sounds so unsure, and so small, and Derek can't bear it.

Not giving the stoic part of his brain any opportunity to talk him out of doing this, Derek takes ahold of Stiles's wrist from where the kid had draped one of his long arms around Derek's midriff, and hangs on as firmly but gently as he can, manoeuvring them both around in the bed so that Stiles is now the Little Spoon.

“This okay?” he asks gingerly, mirroring Stiles because his own words are failing him.

Stiles says, “Yeah. Even better,” and his anxiety is melting away into something much more pleasing; something like relief.

Derek breathes out the word, “Good,” and feels a little dizzy and a lot amazed, and kind of like his heart is beating wildly in his throat.

The only reason he knows it isn't, is because Stiles says, “I can feel your heart thumping away in your chest, man. But, uh, I don't have wolfy senses, so… I can't tell if it's good thumping or bad thumping.”

Then he promptly stops breathing.

Derek resists the desperate, learnt urge to run away from this. He mentally shakes himself and figures: After so many years fighting monsters together, maybe he and Stiles can fight this one together, too?

He gives himself a moment to ride out the panic, then screws his eyes shut and, praying to nobody in particular, whispers, “Good thumping,” into the shell of Stiles's ear.

Stiles shivers and breathes again, but doesn't say anything else. For once, he doesn't need to. He just needs to sleep.

As the kid settles into Derek's bed and Derek's embrace and, hopefully, Derek's life, he smells like a mix of serene and content and promise—and also, wonderfully, of Derek, now.

Derek is a strange combination of relaxed and freaking-the-fuck-out because that's just the way he's made. His brain won't stop whirring at a speed of a million miles an hour, worrying about everything and nothing, all at once, and before he can bite into his lip to stop himself, he blurts out, “Cora says I sometimes dream-talk about Cajun Gumbo recipes.”

Stiles's only sighs, then hums quietly, his breathing already evening out almost to the point of sleep.

Just when Derek thinks he's not going to get any sort of real answer, Stiles mumbles, “Okay, weirdo,” on an exhale, and then he's drifting off into unconsciousness.

Derek settles then, and smiles into the nighttime thinking that maybe, finally, he might get a good night's sleep, too.

.

for @shealynn88, the bestest of friends. i love you and miss you always... <3 (unedited btw—forgive me!)

[mxtantrights]

day court!reader barges in on a meeting with the inner circle

Your day was just beginning but you have had enough.

Not only did you wake up this morning in some random male's bed after a bad late night tryst, he had the nerve to kick you out because he was not in fact single. His girlfriend came back by the time you managed to flee through the back door.

On top of that, you were hungry. You hadn't eaten since last night, when you picked up the lying male at the bar. He offered to make you food at his place but one thing led to another, and you two ended up in bed. And you were the one left unsatisfied, tired, and hangry. So you tried to sleep it off.

So you walked through the city in your clothes from last night. Gaining a bit of looks, but honestly it wasn't that uncommon for other fae to do the walk of shame. It wouldn't be your first, but you prayed to the mother it would be your last.

When you finally got to the palace you found out you missed an important meeting because someone moved it a day forward. That someone being Helion. And that seemed to irk you a bit more than anything else. Or maybe it was the tipping point.

That is why you are stomping to the visitors room. One of the palace guards said he was in there with guests, but you didn't really care about the guests part. You just cared that he was in a location you could get to.

Once you reach the door you swing the door open. He's seated at the table with three others. A male, and two females. You didn't really take them into account because you were too ticked off to do so.

"Helion, do you wish to tell me why the meeting on creating new positions in the court was pushed to today?" you ask.

Helion smirks, "I'm entertaining guests."

"You can entertain all you want, but you'll answer my question first." you answer.

Helion shrugs his shoulders.

"I wanted to free tomorrow up for you." he answers simply.

You stand there in silence. He wanted to free up your day for tomorrow? Why would he want you to be free? Actually, back to the meeting, why would he not tell you that the was moving it?

"You could have told me about this plan." you say.

Helions nods, "I could have, but then I would have ruined your night out. Tell me, was he any good?"

You suppose most family members don't talk about such intimate acts with each other. Too taboo. But you and Helion aren't like most. For the first ten years of your life he didn't even know you existed. And then everything happened and you ended up under his care.

Helion isn't a regular parent by any means. But he tried, for you.

And you guess, this is him trying now too.

You sigh, "No. It was completely uneventful, which is why I was on my way here to have food and prepare for the meeting."

"Food? I have tons of that, take a seat." Helion holds his hand out for you to take a seat.

It's then, and only then, that you take a look at who he is supposed to be entraining. The first female, the high lady of the night court. Your eyes widen as you take her in. And beside her is another habitant of night court. The blonde warrior, Morrigan. And then there is the male. Wings and shadows. Spymaster.

You take an apprehensive step back, "Actually, I should let you entertain your guests. I can speak to you later about this."

"No please, this was the most interesting thing I've heard all morning." the blonde one, Morrigan, says.

"What she means is, we were getting nowhere with our discussion. You can join us if you like." the high lady says.

You toss a look over to Helion. He nods at you. You decide to take the plunge and sit at the table, right in front of the high lady. Feyre. That's her name.

You reach for one of the glass lutes of fruit juice. You raise the glass to your lips and take a long sip. You sometimes needed to read the room and shut your mouth. This is one of those times.

"I don't think you introduced yourself, this is my stability ambassador and hopefully, the next day court liaison." Helion says.

You almost choke on the juice.

[natewriteslol]

"Short" Fuse

Summary: Despite not really being close, Chilchuck opens up to you about being short, you listen and offer some interesting counters to his insecurities.

A/N: a lil sum sum :P

It had been a long, adventurous day, yet Laios continued his search within the dungeon for some food. The entire party was hungry, but of course the two chefs especially held the urge to eat. They both wanted to go after these specific monsters in the area that could be tasty, something about these snail creatures and main course. Despite apprehension from Marcille she tagged along and Izutsumi not wanting to miss out on the action and still wasn't tired due to her slight nocturnal nature followed suit.

They assured the remaining two should keep watch of the supplies of your camp. And with waves from all of them except from the beastman, the four were engulfed within the darkness of the dungeon.

Leaving solely you and Chilchuck.

Your relationship was most definitely not the closest as he adopted a fatherly nature amongst the other members of the party except for Senshi and you. And whilst that makes sense as the dwarf and yourself were both adults just like Chilchuck, it still was completely different.

You honestly just chalked it up to you joining the party at a later date than the rest, despite bonding with the rest of your other people, even getting closer with someone as combative as Izutsumi.

Truth be told, you couldn't stand it as you were at a stand still of a lack of satisfaction. You weren't liked and you weren't disliked as you both almost never spoke to one another. But you persevered and decided to completely break the ice, not caring if you were being weird at this point.

"How is your sight so good?"

He was caught completely off guard, thinking that you both were going to sit in silence the whole time.

"What do you mean?" Chilchuck asked back, side eyeing you.

"When defeating golems, you're the first to spot their hearts before anyone and you spot weak points on different creatures also that others are blind to. How do you do that?" You explained.

"Half-foots typically have keen eyesight, it comes with the hearing too. Big eyes, big ears," he put it simply.

You continued to poke and prod at him and you ended up making decent conversation with the man, even getting a couple of laughs. But somehow your topic had evolved from weaknesses, to then insecurities.

"Laois is an idiot, but I would rather have more height and be able to perform in battle a little more. Half Foots mainly need to stay out of the way and let other people handle it. It feels...cowardly," he says, putting his arms on top of his knees and sighing.

It was catching you a bit off guard but I guess the saying of opening up to a stranger than someone you know is making itself very apparent at the moment.

"I completely disagree man," you replied, taking a more casual approach.

Chilchuck didn't want to completely block your opinion and he was curious about what you had to say surprisingly , "What are you saying?"

"I'd argue every person in here obviously has an asset that they possess, meaning one would fall apart without the other. Also we have all been in close to death situations and you're usually the most likely to survive due to your height," you explained, poking at the fire with a twig as you sat on the cold dungeon floor.

"I guess," he replied, looking off to the side. But the look on his face had told another story, as if the brunette had more to say.

.

.

.

"Ever since my wife left me, I've been more caring about how people percieve me. Gets on my goddamn nerves."

There it was.

The Half-Foot blurted out, both horrified and relieved he got that off his chest. He held a small pebble within his palm, semi- gently throwing a rock into the fire, crackling the wood and which sent out light embers into the air.

He had been definitely holding that in for a long time, and had no idea how to say it or if he could even speak it aloud. It's common for people to feel that way, more vigilant and embarrassed over what others have to say about them especially if they're single. But it had been a while since the Half-Foot truly felt it after being married for so long.

And for the past five years, it had been completely gnawing at him and his security as a man. He was twenty nine yet still couldn't shake that feeling, but with his occupation, Chilchuck couldn't exactly dwell on romance mid-lock picking or battle.

But on quiet nights like this, it got to him.

"Well, you're lucky you're a good looking guy, otherwise you would be screwed," you said bluntly, taking off your boot to get some dirt out from the inside. He was honestly speechless, had you of all people thought that? Or were you just talking to make him feel better.

But this whole interaction makes him feel so weird, but it's not a... negative feeling.

"You are so damn ridiculous, you know that?"

"You can think whatever you want Chilchuck, but I think deep down you know I'm right," you said, your eyes still fixated on your boot cleaning process. Your statement made a blush spread across his cheeks.

"This dungeon is making me talk to you, I swear," he replied frustratedly, growing "tired" of your antics.

"Well good thing we had this talk, since we both have had things on our mind for a while, huh?"

Although you both opened up about how you've been feeling, Chilchuck was doing a majority of the talking on this subject. Was that what you mean? The beginning when you were talking about yourself and not his appearance and you finding him attractive?

Right?

And just as he was about to inquire further, the short man was quickly cut off by a certain loud blonde.

"Hey guys, we're back!" Laios said excitedly from afar, his voice echoing slightly on the dungeon walls, his hands were wet with wet giant snails whilst Senshi carried a large sack of god knows what on his back.

Marcille and Itsuzumi looked green in the face with disgust, but you knew they would most definitely eat the monster Escargot that you knew the dwarf would whip up. The sight always brought a smile to your face, especially their hypocrisy in finding everything Senshi and Laois made yummy.

As you sat up to go and help with dinner, you looked over your shoulder, "Thanks for the talk Chilchuck, we should do this more often."

This was might not curate the best outcome, but why didn't he want to stop?

Why the hell did he even care?

[s0ulm8s]

cinnamon, honey, & sage — geto suguru x human!reader

ೃ⁀➷ genre : fluff

*ೃ༄ words: 1.4k

⋆.ೃ࿔*: warnings & a/n : nothing, just fluff, girldad!geto suguru, honestly nothing too crazy or exciting just suguru going soft for a human (lmk if i should make a part two)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ read more works here ➼ masterlist

geto suguru didn't particularly look forward to having to saunter into the small bakery just a mere ten minute walk from his current residence. no, not because it was unsanitary or even that the food was bad — he simply wished to never interact with the monkeys nearby if he could help it.

they left a stench, one of greed and unworthiness. rotten and disgusting. actively seeking them out was not on his to-do list.

yet nanako and mimiko couldn't let the small place go. they loved it there. when suguru would give the girls a wad of cash and urge them to spend their day in the small city nearby — this place was always their last stop.

despite being branded as a bakery it stayed open late and sold sake, and even though the cute owner that sat behind the counter would giggle and politely refuse to sell the two girls the alcohol — she always gave them an extra pastry and let them spill their teenage gossip to her.

we bought you a scone geto-sama... but we shared it on the way home nanako would admit with a half-guilty grin but you should really try it yourself anyways! the owner is very pretty and i promise it smells nice!

he'd scoff lovingly at this, but the more the pair gushed about the owner and her sweet attitude towards his girls, it had become a recurring thought. and since mimiko had gotten sick, and inevitably passed it on to nanako — he figured the girls deserved some cheering up as they were getting better.

suguru looks up, the neon sign reads magic shop in japanese, lighting up in a pink and purple hue with the words bakery & bar underneath.

the sun was setting now and the bell to the door rings softly, alerting you from the back of the shop to a new customer. though you were open for another hour you weren't expecting many more customers on a week night.

suguru observes the small building, comfortable booths line the wall, and the ceiling to floor windows are littered with hanging plants and vines. lights dim and colorful flood his vision while soft music meets his ears. the atmosphere is nice, calming even and suguru finds himself looking for something to be displeased with. he grunts when he can't find anything.

so far his girls were right, it does smell nice. yet he hasn't seen another person yet, until he hears small padding footsteps come to the front — you must be the sweet owner who gives away free treats.

your face is pleasant and welcoming as you take in his appearance, skin a bit hot as you observe the much taller man. his dark hair is long, half tied up into a bun and the rest cascading over his shoulders. he's wearing a black button up, sleeve rolled up and tucked into casual black slacks that accentuate his figure nicely. and he is handsome. god, is he handsome.

you let the thoughts drift away as his gaze looks a bit apprehensive before slowly approaching the counter.

"hi, welcome in." you greet softly, voice melodic and sweet and he can't help but rejoice a bit that you aren't overly cheery or theatrical. "were you looking for anything specific tonight?"

he finally stops right in front of counter, gaze boring down onto you as he studies you. "yes, actually." he responds, voice low and dreamy as he scans the window with the pastries. "two raspberry muffins, three cinnamon scones, a cheese danish, and a loaf of your homemade bread."

his recitation of the order is precise and memorized, and you can't help but let out a giggle to yourself before commenting, "you must be the protective hermit who looks after mimiko and nanako, yeah?" you ask as he looks at you with a slightly shocked expression. you giggle again, and he leans a bit closer instinctively at the sound. "their words, not mine.. it's geto, right?"

he nods in confirmation, for some reason introducing himself with his full name as you do the same. at your comment he actually lets out a small chuckle, a grin finally finding his face and actually meeting his eyes before he nods, "i suppose that would be me.. i don't find myself out much, i have.. sensitivities." he admits, in the middle of his sentence realizing he hadn't even grimaced at a certain smell yet. no. you smelt nice, inviting even — you smelt of cinnamon, honey, and... what was that?... a hint of sage maybe. not too sweet or overbearing. suguru mentally slapped himself for enjoying it as much as he did. "you knew that just by their order?"

you laugh again as you nod, beginning to grab his items before speaking. "yeah, they've become some of my favorite regulars. they typically order the same things — aside from the homemade bread." you tell him, "you must not have much of a sweet tooth." you observe as he nods in confirmation. "that's okay, i don't really either.."

"yet you run a bakery?" suguru quips, letting out a small laugh as you nod.

"and bar." you correct with a smirk, "i know, i see the irony, too. but baking was something i learned to love from someone who just.. meant a lot to me." you find yourself admitting for reasons unknown. why were you so easily telling this man things about yourself?

he can almost see you inner turmoil, but he can understand your passion — loving something because someone you loved also did. it was slightly heartwarming, and he could feel his past creeping up his throat a bit. he swallows it down.

you clear your throat. "oo, i know! i have a new item i'd like you to try.. it's a taro bun but i make it with a different herbal mix, not too sweet but not too bitter. i think you might like it." you suggest, placing two of the lilac colored buns into his now large packaged box that was decorated in your logo and littered in small doodled flowers.

typically suguru would flinch and disregard anyones assumption at what he might like, yet he found himself gravitating toward you. listening intently, and he even hoped you were right. then he could come back and give you his honest review.

was he seriously searching for a reason to see you again already? tsk. maybe his girls were right, you do seem quite intriguing and magnetic. he can't believe he's allowing himself to think this way about a non-sorcerer.

"speaking of, where have those two been? i haven't seen them the last week or so — i was starting to get worried." you ponder, ringing his total up on your register. typically any pry into his life would annoy him, but your concern seems genuine and leaves him curious.

"ah, mimiko seems to have caught an illness and of course, nanako got it from her." suguru explains, and you're worried gaze finds his and he is quick to reassure you. "they're both already on the mend, don't worry. they talk a lot about this place.. and you.." suguru begrudgingly admits, "i figured this would cheer them up a bit."

your face immediately blushes at the idea that he already knew about you prior. "hmm, that's very sweet of you... here, take some tonyu with you as well. they usually get a few boxes, but they always switch up the flavors." you tell him, and he's only just now realizing how attentive you've been to them while on their own. he finds himself grateful that they were in good hands. you give him four different flavors of the drinks.

you bag all of the items together and you both find yourself a little bit desperate to spend a bit more time in the other's presences. "say, what time does your shop close?" suguru finds himself speaking before his brain can process what he's doing.

you look up at him with big eyes, almost shocked before you stutter out an answer. "i close in about.. uhh.. 13 minutes." you tell him, not realizing how much time had passed. "why do you ask?"

"any chance you'll let a customer in after close to share some sake with?" he asks next, a sweet grin painting his face as you blush wildly. how had a human woo'd him so easily?

"hmm.. only for the handsome stranger i've heard so much about." you hum to yourself as his shoulders bob a bit though his laughter. "go to your girls, i'll have our drink ready when you get back." you smile warmly, and he thanks you.

not even twenty minutes later you see his silhouette approaching, and you go to unlock the door. as you pull it open, you see a small box in his hands and realize he's brought the taro buns with him.

"i figured we could share these, and i could go ahead and give you my honest review, yeah?" he speaks as he steps inside, stopping just in front of you. his tall frame swallowing you as he leans in and you grow bit flustered. you grin. "ready for that drink?"

[marjorie189]

Solo Trip (A Jude Bellingham Imagine)

Jude Bellingham x Mexican!femreader

It's specifically a Mexican reader but there's cute Jude moments on here I think everyone should have a read at :)

Part 2

contains: social media au & text messages!

wc: 6,571 (in total of pt. 1 & 2)

summary: Y/N goes away on a trip to Mexico much to Jude's dismay!

includes: suggestive content and sexting!

~

I don't see much love for us Mexican and Brown girlies on here so I must deliver 🫡 I honestly had SO much fun writing and creating this, I hope you all enjoy it! I really connected to this post and poured out all my love and devotion to it!

~

“Babe, I think I want to go on a trip,” I blurted out, as Jude and I both chilled on the living room couch. 

Jude was laying down beside me, as I sat comfortably. He looked up from his phone, locking his eyes with mine. His feet softly grazing my thigh. 

“Yeah? Where should we go?” He asked sweetly, curious as to our next trip. 

“Well, I meant me.” I clarified. 

“What?” He baffled, his eyebrows scrunching together, now sitting up. 

I turned over, holding in my laughter at his reaction.

“What do you mean?” He questioned, closing the gap between us on the coach. 

“You’re so cute when you’re confused,” I smiled, letting out a giggle, as I traced his cheek with my hand. 

His big brown eyes  bore into mine as they waited for an answer. 

“There’s going to be a festival in Mexico to start off the spring season. It’s a pretty big deal and my cousins from over there were inviting me to go,” I explained, in hopes that he’d be on board with the idea. 

“Oh.” He replies, scooting back leaving some space between us. 

I frown at the lost touch of his presence and his dull bland response. 

He clears his throat and contemplates whether or not he should go back on his phone as he processes his girlfriend’s words. 

“Jude?” I say, moving closer to him, placing my hand under his knee. Softly roaming around his skin. 

His eyes flicker back over to me. 

He lets out a sigh and his head falls back. 

I stopped my roaming hand that was now on his broad thigh.  

“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask softly, looking at his head that was laying on the far end of the couch. 

I grab ahold of his soft hand with mine and place them against my lips. Peppering small kisses on them. 

Butterflies erupted in Jude’s stomach from the continuous touch of his girlfriend and her loving low voice. 

“No, nothing’s wrong baby,” He finally voices, restablishing our eye contact. 

“Then what is it?” I caringly ask. 

Jude melts at Y/N’s  puppy dog eyes which she probably doesn’t even know she has. 

“It’s nothing.” He reiterates. 

“Jude! Come on,” I give him a knowing look. 

Jude grumbles and lets out an annoyed  laugh knowing he can’t fool his girl. 

I raised a brow at him, ready for him to fess up. 

Jude wasn’t the type to say “no” to his girlfriend. He wasn’t controlling in a toxic way nor did he ever stop her from doing something she wanted to. 

Y/N wasn’t asking for Jude’s permission, she never felt that way so she knew that wasn’t it. 

“I don’t know. I just feel weird because that’s a whole different part of your life that I don’t know about. You’ve mentioned your trips to Mexico before but you’ve never been since we’ve started dating,” He slowly confessed. 

I nodded understandingly. 

“Yeah babe, I know.” 

Jude was glad Y/N understood. 

“That’s exactly why my cousins are begging me to go. It’s always so fun when we all get together and it’s been forever  since we’ve last seen each other,” I explain. 

Of course Jude has met Y/N’s family like her uncles, aunts, cousins, grand-parents all family members that lived in the same country as them. But never her extended family that far out, so he was apprehensive about it. 

Of course it was her family, but it had him on edge. 

“Well are your parents going or y/b/n &  y/s/n?” He asked. 

I shook my head. “Nope, just me. But it’s okay Jude. I’ve been there before, trust me, it’s like my second home. You don’t have to worry.” I tried to console, but really it just irked him. 

“I don’t really know. I’d just feel more comfortable if your parents or siblings were there,” He shrugged. 

I sighed. 

“Well, what is it about me going that’s got you all worked up?” I inquired. 

“Well for starters what are you going to be doing there? Are you just going to be there with cousins or with other people? Also, where are you going to be staying?” He eagerly revealed. 

“Well it’s a small rancho and the festival is going to be in the pueblo. So-” I was saying, trying to respond to his questions before he cut me off. 

“I don’t know those terms,” He brattily exclaims. He’s sitting with his legs sprawled out on the coach as his upper body laid back on the arm rest. 

His tone hit a nerve. I breathed in, trying to be as patient as I could.

“Well you could ask nicely about it instead of interrupting me,” I scolded. 

He stayed silent, knowing he could’ve been better, but kept his poker face on. 

I very visibly rolled my eyes at him before continuing. 

“Pueblo is the main town, but it’s small so everyone knows each other. Rancho is where most of the people reside and have their homes. There are many different ranchos all around. Some of them are bigger than others,” I try to explain. 

I look straight at him and he barely gives a nod. 

“Can I continue what I was saying now?” I pettily asked him, now that I was done explaining terms to him. 

“Please, go on,” He insists, almost too nicely. 

I let out an annoyed hum before continuing. 

“The festival is going to be in the Pueblo on the weekend. There’s going to be bailes, which means dances before you interrupt again, leading up to the weekend and the day of. There’s going to be live bands everywhere and cabalgatas, which are trails of people on horses.” I describe. 

“So you’re going to be there for the weekend?” Jude asks, thinking to himself: not too bad. 

“No, for a week,” I responded. 

“A week?!” He yells, his thick accent coming through, straightening himself in his seat again. 

“Yes, a week, Jude!” I sternly repeat, sitting across from him. 

He crosses his arms like a baby. I almost wanted to let out a cackle. 

“For what? Your festival is going to be on the weekend. Why would you possibly need to be there for so long?” He beckons sassily.

“Hmm, I don’t know Jude.” I question aloud to myself. “Maybe to visit my grandparents and spend some quality time with them. Or also hmm, let me think. The cousins I’m going to be spending my time with, let me just party with them and dip the next day. No! I’m going to spend time with the family that I don’t get to see often,” I exclaim, getting frustrated with the way he’s acting. 

“So you’re going to be partying in Mexico?” He asks in a serious tone. 

“Are you being serious? Is that all you got from what I just said?” I huffed, spreading my legs, not daring to touch his that were mere centimeters away from mine. 

Jude lifts his brow, waiting for my response. 

“Of course I’m going to be partying Jude! That’s the point of the festival, it’s in celebration of spring,” I exasperated.  

“That’s a load of crap. What do you mean in celebration of spring?” He scoffs. 

“It’s tradition. It’s on the weekend of Easter so it’s an important weekend,” I flatly say. 

Jude could tell that Y/N was getting angry. He doesn’t blame her though, he was acting like a big baby. She never acted the way he was acting right now when he had to travel all the time or with his busy schedule. 

“You never answered my other questions,” Jude lets out, in a genuine tone this time. 

“Well I could’ve since the beginning if you would’ve just let me,” I state, slightly looking away from him. 

He wanted to blurt out an apology but didn’t. 

I started, “I’m staying at my grandparents' home, where my (choose parent) grew up. My aunts and uncles live nearby too, as well as my cousins. At the festival I’m going to be with my cousins and their friends. Which I’ve befriended in the past. Like I said, it's a small town so everyone knows each other.” 

“Guy friends?” Jude inquires, with a look. 

“Jude, is this what this is about?” I rolled my eyes.

“Partly yes. I just don’t know your history over there.  Is there something I should know about or be worried about?” He remarks. 

“Jude are you being serious?” I hissed. 

“Very!” He exclaims loudly, swinging his arms in motion. 

“I should’ve known,” I grunt, rolling my eyes. 

I get off of the couch, ready to walk away. Steam blows out of my ears as I storm past him. 

Jude sits up and pulls me back before I was out of his reach, landing me on his lap. 

“I just don’t want a Mexican guy trying to win over your heart,” He whispers into my neck. My back pressed against his chest. 

“You’re annoying,” I murmur, facing away from him. 

Jude only tightens his grip around my waist, pulling me closer to him. Nuzzling himself into my shoulder. 

I try to pull away from him but he just elongates his hold. 

I roll my eyes at him, sitting still in his embrace, knowing he can feel my stiffness against his touch.

“Just because of this I’m going to play along with all the guys trying to get my attention.” I proclaim. 

Jude unknowingly loosens his grip at the words. 

“And trust me when I say there’s a whole lot of them.” I taunt, getting up from his now ungripped hold. 

I walk away from him and go into our room. 

I grab my laptop and start looking for upcoming flights. 

@yourusername posted a story 

Jude was giving Y/N her space knowing that’s what she needed right now. 

He was mindlessly scrolling on twitter, trying to get his mind off things when something caught his eye. 

Immediately eyeing the room Y/N was in. 

He quickly went on Y/N’s instagram account not believing his eyes. 

He could give less fucks about her using his card. He didn’t actually believe that she bought a ticket. 

Sure he knew she was going regardless, but they just had an argument about it. 

Jude barged into their room, Y/N was on her phone, laying in bed, acting as if Jude didn’t just abruptly enter their bedroom. 

“Did you just buy a ticket?” Jude presses in shock. 

I hum in response.

See I had it planned all along once I had entered the room. 

I posted the laptop, which showed me browsing through flights and Jude’s credit card. That clearly revealed his name, blocking out his numbers. 

Once I snapped a photo with Jude’s card, I bought the plane ticket with my own banking account. Just using Jude’s card for the photo. But he doesn’t know that. 

I knew the story was going to gain a lot of traction and would somehow land on Jude’s socials.

 Which it quickly did because he’s in the room now, a couple minutes after my post. 

“Did you actually Y/N?” He asked, and I could tell he was asking seriously. 

I looked up at him. 

“Yes. I did.” I reply nonchalantly. 

“Are you being serious right now?” He asks, still in question. 

“Yes Jude, how many times do I have to repeat myself?!” I huff. 

“Oh okay, now” He nods . “I see how we’re doing this.” He says angrily. Inching closer to the bed where I laid. 

“Yeah, that’s how we’re doing it because when I tried talking to you about it you just couldn’t hear me out!” I say, finally yelling out. After trying to stay calm. 

“You’re right and I’m sorry,” He apologies, standing right by me. “I should’ve been more open. I just got jealous knowing that there’s going to be guys there that are going to want you. I mean come on, you know that. Look at you!” He exclaims. “Plus they’ve known you way before I did. It just makes me feel some type of way.” He frowns. 

I blush at his remark. 

“I’m sure there’s guys who are waiting for your arrival and it boils my blood because you’re mine, Y/N!” Jude blurts out. 

I sit up and reach up to his tall figure, placing my arm around Jude’s shoulder. He leans down at my touch as his eyes melt into mine. 

I pull his face down upon mine and lean into him. Fluttering my eyes closed and pressing my lips against his. He softly let his lips flow with mine. 

He let himself fall onto the bed, on top of me. 

“You could’ve led with that,” I say, pulling apart from his lips as I wrap my arms around his upper back. 

“I know. I’m such an idiot!” Jude proclaims as he falls deeper into my arms. 

His lips pressed against my cheek. 

“You own my heart Jude. There’s no one I would rather be with!” I whisper, placing my hands on his cheeks and pressing his lips on mine. 

He let himself fall into our kiss. 

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him in closer, passionately deepening our kiss. 

Jude’s hand roams through my hair that’s sprawled out on the sheets. The other is placed on my face, caressing my cheeks with his soft fingers. 

“I love you Jude!” I murmured in between our kisses. “And just because there’s guys who want me, they don’t matter because I want you!” I emphasize, pressing my nose on his. 

“Okay, thank you.” Jude nods, knowing he has nothing to worry about, pecking my lips. 

~

@y/n reposted a tiktok

(translation: you don’t need therapy, you need to go to jerez, zacatecas for Saturday of Glory {name of festival} )

Comments under tiktok: 

@.judes.lover is this where y/n was referring to on her insta story? 

@.soccerwag not y/n reposting this tiktok!!!

@.bellingol I’d actually love to see y/n in this environment we all know she’s got it in her

@.vini&judenum1fan I knew she was mexican but not this mexican (in a good way) love her even more now!

@.madridster I just need to know what jude thinks bc we all know jude has no clue what’s going on (coming from a mexican girly) 

@.mrs.bellingham Love that jude is with a cultured girl 

@.y/nsupporter I didn’t know I needed jude to be with a Mexican until now!!!

@.maridfanatic Not all the comments being about jude and y/n

@.guy-attending-the-event It’s going to be my mission finding y/n and asking her to dance. I know for a fact she hasn’t danced to banda since dating Jude

~

A couple of days have gone by since Y/N bought her ticket to Mexico and her trip was coming up soon. 

Jude was scrolling through tiktok when he came across a video of someone speaking of Y/N’s upcoming trip. 

Jude and Y/N were used to people making posts about them so it didn’t come as a surprise to Jude. Especially since it was made known that Y/N was going on a trip, due to the story post and tiktok repost. 

The video played out of a girl speaking, “Guys, look at what I just found! So we all know Y/N reposted this video on tiktok where you can clearly see crowds of people in Mexico.” The tiktok started and began playing the video Y/N reposted. “You can see the people in the video wearing typical Mexican apparel such as the tejanas (cowboy hats) which most of them are wearing.” The girl who posted the video said. 

“So, I got curious as to what all these people were doing just standing there and what the big deal is because that video got 30,000 likes. I searched up the place and the festival and if Y/N really is going there. Look at what she’s going to be doing.” The girl closed off the statement before playing a video she found. 

Jude watched the video that was played. 

Video: 

Jude was pretty surprised at how everyone partied at this festival based on the video. He didn’t know it was that intense and hard. But he trusted Y/N to take care of herself, he knew she was responsible and wouldn’t put herself in a situation he needed to worry about. But of course he still would. 

Jude opened up the comments of the tiktok. 

Comments: 

@.user.name Dude I swear jude better be careful y/n’s going to have the time of her life!!

@.judextrent Is jude going too or just y/n cause i can’t picture jude there 

@.amexicangirl’saccount y/n is better than me cause i would fall to my knees at the sight of a tall handsome charro

The last comment caught Jude’s attention and saw that that comment had a lot of likes and replies. 

He pressed view replies under that comment. 

@.amexicangirlsaccount y/n is better than me cause i would fall to my knees at the sight of a tall handsome charro

@.user<3 Same!! It has to be their attire because girllll 

@.user1My man is a charro and whenever he puts on his fits i remember why i fell for him all over again and whenever we dance and he has charro outfit it’s EVERYTHING 

@.girlsname You’re lucky that’s my dream! 

Jude didn’t even realize Y/N was out of the shower and in the room, he was so invested in these last comments. 

Y/N’s POV:

I had just walked into the room after my shower, to find Jude deep in his phone. 

The device being too close to his face, brows interlinked, and his skin perplexed. 

“Are you okay?” I asked concerned. 

He looked up from his phone, looking at me petrified. 

“How’d you get in here?” He asked, puzzled. I guess he realized how his question sounded as I furrowed my brows. 

“I mean, sorry, I just didn’t see you enter,” He fumbled his words. 

“Ok?” I say, confused. 

I sat on my vanity, my back facing Jude. 

I applied moisturizer on my face. Through the mirror I saw Jude turning off his phone and placing it on the bed beside him. 

He seemed like he was pondering. 

As I was grabbing my hair brush, I heard Jude ask, “Baby, what is a charro?” from behind me. 

I turned around in my seat, baffled by his random question, gaping at him. 

I didn’t even know how to approach his question. Do I ask where he heard the word from or just answer his thought? 

“I just watched this video of a girl speaking about your trip and where you’d be going. I was reading the comments and they mentioned it. I was just curious as to what that meant,” He tried playing it off smoothly. 

I couldn’t help but laugh at the calmness of his voice, knowing he was eager to know the answer. 

I grabbed the brush and went to sit next to him in bed. 

He looked at me ready for my response. 

I couldn’t help but smile. 

“You’re so funny Jude, I swear.” I say as my smile got bigger. 

“Look here’s the video,” He said, handing me his phone. 

I watched as the girl depicted the video I reposted and went onto show the video she found of the festival. 

“Not them doing research on where I’m going,” I smiled, interested in the video. 

“Literally, I didn’t even think of doing that.” He spoke, raising his brow. 

I chuckled. 

“You know how passionate they are,” I smile. 

“You don’t gotta tell me twice!” He mumbled, making me giggle. “I’m just glad they love you because I wouldn’t be able to stand it if they didn’t.” He says turning over to press his lips on mine. Melting at his soft peck. 

“So, what about charros?” I ask, going back to the original question. 

“Yeah, what are they?” He asked inquisitively. 

“They’re guys who are dressed in a certain attire, who practice a certain horseback lifestyle. It’s more of like a hobby but some take it more seriously than others. They do tricks on horses, It’s pretty cool!” I explained. 

Jude intakes the information and nods. 

“Why?” I ask, noticing his serious intake to it. “What were the comments?” Bringing up the comments he mentioned earlier. 

Jude pulled up the comments and showed them to me. 

“Are you serious, Jude?” I laugh looking at the comments, not taking him seriously. 

“What?” He asked with a shrug. “I was just curious!”

“Okay, buddy,” I hum, knowing his slight jealous and possessive tendencies. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He says, looking away. 

I smile at him, leaning closer to him kissing his jaw. 

“I have Jude Bellingham, I don’t need a charro,” I whisper seductively, pressing a kiss underneath his ear. 

My hand was placed on the other side of his face, lightly scratching his sideburns. 

Jude relaxed against my touch but I couldn’t let him down that easily. 

“Plus I already had a charro,” I hum with a smirk. 

He immediately tenses under my touch and turns around to face me, pushing me away from him. 

I start dying of laughter falling back onto the bed. 

“I’m kidding!” I say as the tears start brimming in my eyes, from my constant laughter. 

“I hate you, you know that?” He says annoyed, getting off the bed. 

I sit up and he starts walking away.

I get up on the bed and jump on his back, wrapping my legs around his waist. 

I put my arms around his neck but he doesn’t hold me up, ignoring my touch.

“You don’t hate me, you love me!” I laugh as I place my head on his shoulder. 

“No.” He murmurs as he walks out the room as if I wasn’t on him. 

I started messing around with him, my hand grabbing onto his chin and squishing it as I moved his face around.

We got to the living room and he threw me on the couch. 

I laugh my butt off as he just stands over my body tally. 

“You’re just so fun to rattle up baby and it doesn’t help that you make it so easy!” I laugh. 

“Whatever!” He mutters, turning around and walking away. 

I slap his ass that’s in perfect view from my position on the couch, knowing it’ll get him more mad.. 

“I love you Judey!” I loudly exclaim as he ignores me, continuing to walk away. 

~

The next weekend came around and I was packing my luggage. 

Jude was watching me from the bed. 

“I’m going to miss you while you’re gone baby!” Jude frowned from the bed. 

I turned away from my clothes to his whining, smiling. 

“Maybe I should go away more often so you can pay me with all this love!” I teased. 

I continued folding my clothes and packing it all away. 

“I can’t wait to get all these guy’s attention too!” I say getting up from where the luggage was placed. 

I could feel Jude’s glare on me. 

I tried holding in my smile as I looked over at him. 

He was death glaring me. 

“You know you think you’d be used to it by now,” I smile at him. 

“No, Y/N. Why would I get used to you saying you’re waiting for other guys' attention?” He grimaced. 

“Because you know it’s a joke!” I laugh. 

“Still don’t see me laughing,” He says with the most serious tone ever.

I chuckled at him. “Ok babe,” I say dismissing him. 

He stays silent. 

“It’s okay babe. Don’t worry I’ll spray our pillows with my perfume, so you can sniff it when you miss me,” I continue my teasing . 

“I’m keeping my favorite panties of yours!” He proclaims. 

“For what?” I say taken aback. 

“Don’t worry about it,” He smirks. 

“You’re gross!” I shudder in thought. 

Once I finished packing we both got ready for our dinner. 

“Just know I’m fucking you good before you leave. Reminding you of what’s waiting for you when you come back!” Jude exclaims from behind me, pressing his dick against my ass before walking out the door. 

“Have you bent over in this little dress after our reservation,” Jude says, bending me over from behind. 

“Jude!” I yell out, smacking his chest. 

@yourusername posted two new stories 

@judebellingham posted a story

It was now the next day and after a long wonderful night (thanks to Jude 😉) it was time to head to the airport. 

Jude grumbled in bed as I opened my eyes. I removed the bed covers off me ready to get out of bed until Jude pulled me into a little spoon. 

“Do you have to leave?” He mutters in his morning voice from behind. 

I frown at his request. 

“I promise the days will pass by in an instant,” I try to console. I intertwine my hand with his and press kisses on his soft skinned hand. 

He sighs from behind me before placing my hair aside so that he could lay in between my neck. 

I squirm at his touch causing him to giggle, which has me erupting in butterflies because of his beautiful laugh. 

I’m going to miss him more than anything while I’m gone. 

We both lay comfortably in silence and he tightens his grip around my figure. I don’t want him to let go, ever. 

~ 

@yourusername posted 2 new stories 

@yourusername

Liked by judebellingham and 256,376 others 

yourusername first day dump 🇲🇽 glad to be back ❣️

view all comments 

com1 viva mexico!!

com 2 ahhh she looks like a natural with the horse! that smile ☺️

jobebellingham have fun sissy!! ❤️

yourusername thanks jobey! 😘

judebellingham not too much fun….. kidding 👀

denisebellingham don’t listen to him darling! have an amazing time (away from him) 😉

judebellingham what mum? 

yourusername thanks denise and jobe will do 😌

judebellingham I hope you’re having a great first day love 🤍 

yourusername thanks love, I miss you 🫶

com3 that food looks so good! I’m hungry now 🤤

com4 those micheladas look so bomb!!

yourusername we never forget the miches 🍻

com4 bruh I can’t with Jude 😭 🤣

Message between Jude & Y/N

yourusername

Liked by trentarnold66, judebellingham, and 379,581 others

yourusername day ✌🏼

view all comments

com1 not trent in y/ns likes 😭

com2 girl what? I’m sure theyre friends 

com1acc yeah but notice how trent didn’t like her day one dump, considering the first pic of this one

judebellingham woah 🤩 (speaking of the first photo) you’re so hot! Are you single? 

yourusername sorry happily married 💍 

judebellingham damn what a bummer :( hope he’s a good husband 

yourusername the best 🤭

com3 i love how they’re not married but he still plays along with it 😆

com4 fr he’s so sweet 😭

vinijr come back we need jude in his full potential 

yourusername i shall be back soon 🫡

com5 i swear i’m no better than a man 🫣

com6 bellingham is a lucky man bc shes fine af 

com7 My respects to jude cause god dayum

Messages between Y/N & Jude

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, vinijr, and 311,405 others

yourusername we out tonight 👢day three 🎉 

view all comments

yourcousin bailes no son los mismos sin ti ✨ feliz que estés devuelta (dances aren’t the same without you ✨ glad you’re back) 

yourusername encantada de estar de vuelta 🤪 (glad to be back 🤪)

you2ndcousin y puro polvadero 😁 (translation: and pure dust) (meaning: that they were dancing so much that their boots caused dust to arise around them from the ground) 

yourusername claro 😌 (of course 😌)

com1 i saw her at the baile and lemme tell you girl can dance

judebellingham your outfit is so cute, so are you 😉 

yourusername you’re cuter though 🥰

judebelligham IMPOSSIBLE

judebellingham have fun! cause when you’re home you’re not leaving my arms 

yourusername sounds like a plan ☺️

com2 damn i wish i was y/n 😣

com3 same

Messages between Y/N and Jude

y/nusername

Liked by judebellingham, pesopluma, 290,958

y/nusername we’re chilling on our fourth day. a quick trip to the pueblo, horseback ride to el oxxo, but mostly basking in those rancho days 🌄

view all comments

pesopluma es todo 🇲🇽 (that’s everything 🇲🇽)

liked by y/nusername

com1 ariana what are you doing here?

com2 oof jude come get yo girl before she gets rizzed up by peso

com3 not him trying to hit on y/n after nikki 

com4 i mean i don’t blame him but our girl y/n cuffed up for life

com5 dude for real bc jude and her are EVERYTHING if they ever break up love isn’t real i swear

a-rancho-friend vente pa la cancha acá vamos a estar (come to the park we’re going to be here)

yourusername ay vamos!! (we’re going!!)

judebellingham yesss i’ve been awaiting your post they make my day 

yourusername we’re halfway there baby! Four more days and i’ll be back in your sweet arms that i desperately miss 

judebellingham i’m counting the days 🤞🏽

com6 her outfits are always so cute

com7 i love her riding to el oxxo

jobebellingham those tacos look delicious! sneak me some back to england! 🙏🏽

y/nusername come next time and i’ll show you all the great spots ☺️

jobebellingham deal!! 

a-charro-from-mexico cuando sabe andar a caballo 😮‍💨 (when she knows how to be on a horse 😮‍💨)

y/nusername posted two new stories

y/nusername

Liked by yourbff, judebellingham, and 298,475 others

yourusername cabalgatas are always so fun! Day five <3

view all comments

com1 she’s so beautiful i swear

Liked by judebellingham 

yourbff que hermosidad!! 😍 (what a beauty)

yourusername who me or the horse? 😊

yourbff both but def meant you hehe

judebellingham you know you really surprise me more and more everyday and i’m in love 🤩

yourusername i’m glad to hear 🥰

com2 as long as jude doesn’t look like bad bunny riding with kendall 😬

yourusername lol no if jude ever decides to want to ride a horse i’ll make sure he can ride on his own or be well experienced to have me ride with him

com3 i love y/n standing up to these comments

com4 i just don’t think y/n wants her man to be a meme 

com5 y/n missing jude so much she’s hugging the horse pretending it’s jude bc of the height difference 🤫

yourusername bahahahah @judebellingham imma have to start doing this now 

com6 ahh she just replied to your comment!! 

twitter going balístic:

~

Tumblr allows 30 pic per post so go to Part 2!!

taglist: @annab-nana @hoodpankow  @alaynahope14  @jeyramarie  @lemur46 @goldenroutledge @valluvsu @paleprincessturtle @hoelesslyt @drewsephrry @northernstarkey

~

All pics are from Pinterest!

Video was from TikTok!

[adelheidvonschicksal]

JJK crew with Fem sweet S/O who’s been heavily abused verbally and sometimes physically by her relatives, the only family she has left. They make her do chores and they make her sleep outside in a tent. She feels like she owes them for taking her in so despite being hurt and malnourished, she does whatever they say. JJK crew including Gojo, Itadori, Megumi, Nobara, and anyone else in mind?

A/N: Honestly, the majority of the students are throwing either hands or words. I combined two requests because I felt like I would’ve been repeating myself otherwise, and the requests share more similarities than not so smoosh! The main difference was the second request asked for a reader immuned to cursed techniques because their family would curse them out of jealousy and for being mixed/hafu. I also tried to focus more on the reaction than the actual abuse.

Tags: non-graphic abuse mentions, hurt/comfort, fem!reader

•---------•

Maki

Maki has seen this story before – the hateful stares and the mocking laughter, stepping down on even the smallest hope to dream. Being told again and again how useless you were, how worthless, that clinging to dreams, wanting more was all pointless.

When you reveal that the reason you’re so strong is because others made you feel weak, she encourages you. “Then, prove them wrong. You don’t have to live your life the way others believe you should.”

She tries to get you to speak up more, not necessarily to your family but about everything. You’re a kind person and quiet but she feels like you never truly speak your mind, wanting to please everyone.

Whenever she sees someone trying to berate or annoy you, she’s quick to ask why they’re fine talking down to you in private and not in front of her. She may never say it out loud but she’s a bit overprotective of the people she likes.

She eventually offers you a choice: when she takes over her clan, you should join her in building a place where you both can be accepted.

Geto

He’s intuitive to tell you don’t like your clan. The few times he’s met them, they weren’t the politest to him either since he comes from a non-sorcerer family but it’s still strange that they treat a total stranger way better than their own clan member. It clicks more when you explain he’s “pureblood” and you’re not, so they like you even less.

He becomes a bit more protective of you after that, inviting you to hang out with him since you two non-sorcerer blooded people should stick together. It seems to take some of your apprehension away.

It still makes him angry to think about though, even more frustrated whenever your other clan members ignore his speeches on how you’re all sorcerers and that they should treat each other with more care.

They obviously don’t appreciate it, but you do. So, his main goal is to at least make you feel better about the situation through little jokes here and there and trying to convince you that you shouldn’t worry about them because the school can be your family now.

He knows it doesn’t completely fix everything, but he hopes you can see that at least the rest of them care about you.  

Megumi

Like Geto, he can tell beforehand that you’re uncomfortable talking about your family. You get the same look he does when someone new accidentally asks him about his family, both his father and his connection with the Zen’in clan.

Megumi always figures it’s not in his place to ask, when you’re ready to talk about it, you will. It’s as simple as that. It doesn’t really become an issue until he sees you actually interact with your family, and how nasty they could be with you, overtly and the disgustingly passive, micro-aggressive way that only old family lines could pull off.

As much as you hate how your family treats you and as much as you hate explaining it to him, you’re more worried that telling others will make them realize that you’re no good and that the other students wouldn’t want to be your friends anymore if they found out about your status and the fact half your family weren’t from here, let alone sorcerers, which is a big reason why you never shared the information.

Megumi doesn’t really care about what most people think especially people who he considers trash. You’re sweet and kind, and that’s really all that matters to him, so you shouldn’t think that he nor the others wouldn’t be your friend because of your birth.

He has no problem telling your nosier cousins that he’s friends with you because he thinks you’re the most outstanding member of your clan—only when asked though.

He will never give you the time to question him or to doubt your relationship together. Any “buts” or “Megumi—” about you not wanting to bring him into your family life or to try to distance yourself is met with “Don’t care” or “No,” to shut down that line of thoughts.

It becomes a little more common for you to spend the night over in his dorm instead of going home at night but he’s still working on convincing you to give up your family entirely like he did.

Gojo

Gojo keeps trying to wiggle himself in your life any chance he gets. He really likes meeting new people especially during high school, you’re included in that when you join his second year.

Unfortunately, you don’t like him for some reason, you don’t like him. You keep avoiding him and barely talk to him, and it’s killing him to know why. Because who could hate him?

It takes a long time of poking at you (your sides specifically) and teasing you to finally get you to admit that your family told you not to talk to him, not to draw his attention, don’t so much as breathe near him. Because you should be lucky to go to the same school as a member of the Gojo Clan, let alone THE heir, and that you shouldn’t be a burden to him.

“Oh, is that right?” Once you tell him your clan’s name (the name you couldn’t use because they didn’t want you representing them) then he fully understands. He knows them well enough.

He immediately wants to go to your house. He wants to visit, in fact Suguru should go! And why not Shoko, too? He’s going to live up the royal treatment from your folks, even as you protest for him not to go. Maybe he’ll ask for all the good drinks and put his feet up on their fancy table?

But why not? He just wants to talk to them and tell them about his new best friend in the world: you. He wants to tell them how he’s so happy how well they treat his adorable little underclassman. And, oh, your room is so tiny, smaller than his walk-in closet, and there’s nothing in there, almost like they only now remember the room exists since he asked about your room. Haven’t they ever thought about getting you a bigger space? Oh, they were planning to let you move into the guest room? Great idea! Wow, then you’re definitely going to need some new clothes to fill that nice new closet, he’ll have to send some. And it’d be rude if he sees someone else in the clothes his clan gifted specifically for you, huh?

When asked why he decided to do that, he says he already told you why: you’re his cute little underclassman.

And he always treats you as such too. Always buying you things to take home and pampering you. Always inviting you out to eat with him and telling you to eat up because he can’t finish it all by himself, and that pretty girls should eat a lot and that you should try every dessert at a new bakery with him.

He constantly asks about your family life now too, to make sure you’re still doing okay, and that when you graduate you should leave them because you don’t owe them anything for being a child who needed help.

Nobara

She’s seeing red when she sees you hurt or when she sees you cry. Society already treats women so awful, and it hurts seeing you be treated evilly by people who are supposed to care about you.

There’s no stopping her when she puts her mind to something. Normally, you could convince her not to retaliate against your family but when she sees any mark on you it’s the last straw.

She’s going to gather your things and kick over that stupid excuse for a “room” they’ve given you and bring you with her. She doesn’t care if she has to share her small space with you as long as you’re safe. She’s sure Gojo can get a new dorm ready for you in no time flat, so it isn’t even a big deal to be sharing a bed for a little while with you.

It feels warm and safe in her hold, and she doesn’t forget to ever tell you how much she loves you and how wonderful a person you are, that she admires you for always being so kind despite your upbringing.

She isn’t afraid to tell you that you don’t owe those people shit while also promising to take you out for new clothes and something to eat. The guilt eats at her for not protecting you sooner, and it makes her want to punch the wall every time she’d think of how dizzy you would get somedays. She had her suspicions but didn’t trust her gut. She promises herself not to make that mistake again.

Anytime you need to do anything with your family, she makes you promise to tell her and let her come with you or one of the others.

Itadori

You manage to pull the wool over his eyes for longer than you expected. You tell him that your family means well and that it’s tough love. Itadori understands that to a small degree. His grandpa was a little ornery, but Itadori always could tell that his grandpa loved him. Megumi can be a bit abrasive, but Itadori can tell Megumi cares about them. With your family, he doesn’t get that vibe.

It’s even worse than he thinks when he finally hears from your own mouth what’s going on, so much that he wants to cry for you because you won’t do it for yourself because you’ve gotten so used to the treatment that even your own body adapted, all because you feel like you can’t be ungrateful and leave your family.

He’ll do the best that he can to help, assisting you in running your errands so that you can have a break, but he still feels so lost because even if he wanted to fight them, he can’t attack an entire clan, and he doesn’t have the weight to do something about it himself especially when you beg him to keep between the two of you.

He’s trying so desperately to convince you that none of your home life is normal while you bury down that fact that you know he’s right.

Itadori quickly makes it one of his ultimate goals to save you like he wants to do with everyone else he meets. Sure, he can’t save everyone, and sure, he can’t exactly get rid of Sukuna just yet, but you’re right here in front of him, and he should be able to save you because he loves you.

•---------•

P.S.A. Please remember to reach out to someone if you’re undergoing any type of abusive situations from family members or other domestic partners, or if you suspect someone is going through those things.

[onceuponastory]

just a kiss

Plot: Frustrated by Y/N and Bucky's refusal to admit their feelings for one another, Natasha decides to take matters into her own hands. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: None. Just some fluff, and reader and Bucky being shy, flustered idiots who can't admit their feelings for each another. Notes: Recently I rewatched the episode of Vicar of Dibley where she helps Alice and Hugo kiss for the first time, and I love that scene so much, so I just knew I had to write it for reader and Bucky. This is just a sweet, lighthearted, crack fic. I hope you like it!

Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“Y/N, you’re staring at Bucky again.” Natasha murmurs, not even looking up from her magazine.

“No I’m not!” She stammers, clearly embarrassed. 

“Yes, you are.” A reply comes, still buried from the depths of the magazine. “Why won’t you just tell him how you feel already?”

“I can’t.” She sighs. Y/N never meant for this to happen, of course. But then again, nobody ever plans this sort of thing. To fall so deeply, irrevocably in love with her best friend that her heart feels like it’s doing backflips every time he walks by. And she did try to tell him, honestly. Things just got in the way. 

Before she could tell him, there’d be a mission sending one of them away, or an impromptu emergency calling her home. And maybe (although she doesn’t want to admit it) part of the reason she hasn’t said anything yet is because she’s too scared of taking the first step. Of laying her feelings on the line and not knowing what she’ll get back. Would she get them right back with a neat little bow on top? Or would they be completely destroyed?

Natasha, though, knows everything. Both about Y/N’s crush on Bucky… and his crush on her, just as big as Y/N's crush. After all, she seems to be the one they both come to when they need someone to rant about their feelings to. And the fact they’ve not said a word to each other about it is driving her crazy.

After all, there’s only so many times you can hear “God, Bucky looks so hot today.” And “How do you think I should tell her?” before you lose it. So, Natasha soon decides that if they’re not going to say anything, she’ll say it for them.

The next morning, she and Y/N are sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee together when Bucky walks into the room, filling his own cup. Already, Natasha can see the apprehension in their eyes. “Showtime.” She smirks. “Bucky, I was just thinking. Doesn’t Y/N look beautiful today?” He looks over, raising a brow.

“She’s just in her pyjamas.” Immediately, his face turns bright red, and his eyes widen. “Not that you don’t always look beautiful, Y/N it’s just-“ as Bucky stammers his way through the sentence, Natasha rolls her eyes.

“This is the guy who was a super powered assassin?” 

“Oh, thanks Bucky.” Y/N smiles softly, somehow not noticing how flustered he is around her. Or if she did, she doesn't mention it. “You look really handsome, too.” Natasha grins. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

“You think so?” Bucky gasps softly, and Y/N nods. 

“You always look handsome, Bucky.” They both mumble a ‘thanks’ to one another before silence falls again. 

“Is there anything you two want to say to each other?” Natasha asks, looking between them both. Yet, neither says anything. They keep staring at each other, each clearly wanting to say something, but unable to. Natasha suppresses a groan. Here it comes. They’re going to bury their feelings all over again. “Oh my god!” she exclaims, massaging her temples. “This is insufferable. You two are insufferable.” 

“What are you talking about?” Bucky furrows his brow.

“Look.” Natasha huffs. “You.” She gestures to Bucky. “Like her.” Another gesture, this time to Y/N. “And she likes you back. So there’s no need to be so nervous around each other.” For a moment, she expects Y/N or Bucky to be angry at her revelation, to tell her it’s none of her business, and they’d reveal it themselves when the time was right.

Instead, though, the complete opposite happens.

“You… like me?” Y/N gasps. Chuckling, Bucky nods, running a hand through his hair.

“Y/N, I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.” He admits, his cheeks flushing red once more.

“I never knew that.” Y/N gets up, walking over to him. “I’ve loved you for a while too, probably just as long as you loved me. But I was too scared to tell you the truth, because I thought you didn’t like me back… I’m so glad to hear you do.” Bucky grins, chuckling.

“Well….” He trails off.

“Just fucking kiss already!” Natasha groans. Slowly, Bucky moves his head towards Y/N. At first, the kiss is soft and tentative, as if they’re afraid of hurting each other. But as time passes, they release their emotions and the kiss becomes more passionate. As the pair wrap their arms around each other, Natasha watches on, beaming with pride.

A few hours later.

“Hey Nat, Stark wants you to sign this report.” Steve informs her, sticking his head into the room. 

“Okay, pass it over.” When the blonde notices Y/N and Bucky in the corner, he furrows his brow.

“Are they…okay?” Natasha glances over at them, still making out. They’d come up for air a few moments ago, before hungrily returning their lips to one another. She smirks.

“Oh yeah, they’re just fine.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[madamechrissy]

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Cunnilingus, explicit sex, choking, smacking, breeding kink, fr a huge breeding kink, dirty talk, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, biting

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Gojo Satoru is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished on Ao3 but I'm going to slowly get it all up here! (Gojo's POV in itallics)

Chapter 7 - Masterlist

Chapter 8

Your pussy was aching from Gojo Satoru, your neck sensitive from his bites, ass sore from his rough grip, bruises on your thighs making you shiver as you stood, your body was still reeling. Gojo had left yesterday afternoon, pushing your date off a day so that you could ‘recover’. Shit, you needed to. You had slept damn near the whole day once he’d gone.

The date was something he would not tell you about. He had simply smirked and said it was a mystery.

A surprise is a surprise.

But…

It’ll get that stick out of your ass. Relax and trust me.

A knock shook you out of your reverie, then, and you went to open your door to see a package dropped off, another pretty box like Gojo had sent last week for the charity ball. You flushed, nervous at what this all meant, falling so bad for such a silly man child, and falling harder with each breath. You shiver a bit with excitement and anticipation as you bring the box in.

Sitting it on the bed, your mind whirls with how much has changed in such a small time, feelings uncovered you’d always had so deep. There was no hiding from it anymore, not when you damn near dropped the L bomb mid fuck. You try to explain it away as some orgasm brain, but deep down you know it’s something else.

You take the pretty ribbon off, putting it with the last one you’d saved in your top drawer, they were far too pretty to just toss away. You peek at your little selfie with him, flushing like some damn school girl, just like little Miwa, but you were grown. Right? Why did he have such an effect…

You go back to the job of opening the package, with its pretty blue and white tissue paper, you wonder errantly if it’s Kiyotaka who has to do this because you can’t imagine it from Gojo. You see lingerie, and you feel your entire body heat up, black and lacy bralette with a high waisted lacy bottom, attached were little straps for stockings, which you saw were right under it.

You take out the little fishnets, and then there is a gorgeous body chain laid out on velvet, one that would go up around your neck, draping down between your breasts, and would wrap down the middle of your waist. It was a glittering silver chain, looking so delicate and pretty, something you would honestly have never thought to get yourself, but something you craved to wear now.

For him.

There was a little note, and that made you more nervous, biting your lip apprehensively, taking the little card out. Gojo had messy, wide, scrawling handwriting, usually making you write most things for him, and it made you want to chuckle as you tried to read it.

‘Put this on for me, pretty please! I am using puppy dog eyes, so you can’t deny me. Kiyotaka will be there at 8.’

You rolled your eyes, but then grew confused. What were you going to wear over it? Where were you going and how should you dress? Puppy dog eyes huh…Then you got another knock.

“Shit, Gojo… how much…” There was another knock, and another package. Again no one was there, like Gojo did this to fuck with you. You took the large red bag, and sat it also on your bed, and it was a red overcoat. A long one, looking like something some detective would wear.

You peer for some dress, but no. Another note.

‘I have this fantasy of you in lingerie under a big ass trenchcoat, nothing else. Humour me would you? *Puppy eyes*’

You snorted in laughter, and felt heat between your thighs. Where were you all going that it would be acceptable to wear such a thing, the thought of it drove you crazy, mind wild. Some raunchy sex club? Some crazy rich people party? You had no clue what to expect. You went to go touch up your hair and do your makeup, and your eyes sparkled at you.

You had rosy cheeks, and a smile… a smile, huh? You peer back at the photo, and realize maybe the happiness wasn’t gone, maybe it had been buried. Maybe it was not even full happiness before this, but you tried not to think too much of it, overthink and ruin things before they started. Overthinking fucking brain.

You turn to slide on the wicked lingerie, making your breasts sit high, lace cupping them like a gentle hug. Then you slid on the crotchless panties that hit mid waist, musing over the last time you’d worn them just the other night, in that bar, snapping it against your…

It was like your thoughts were consumed now.

You fiddle with the garters, unused to such things, sliding the wide fishnets over your smooth thighs. You’d shaved every inch of them and… your intimate area… just a little bit ago, something you’d been doing since Gojo’s affinity for just diving down there. You would never admit that was why, of course.

The chain you pulled out gently, guiding it over your body, it draped around your throat and between your pretty breasts, making them more enticing. You clasp the little back around your waist, securing it, the cold metal against your overheated flesh making you tremble at the sensation.

You peeked and found thigh high boots you’d never had the guts to wear, but had bought because they were sexy. You slid them over your legs, zipping them up, peering in your dresser mirror. The lingerie flatters and enhances your every curve, as you turn you notice even your backside looks amazing, as if Gojo had it in mind to enhance his favorite parts.

Your pussy was left open, bare, giving a thrill as you slid on the long red overcoat, sort of baggy on you, which you had a feeling was his intent since he knew your size so well. You button it up but leave a couple at the top open, loose, knowing it would drive him crazy, and playing into it. You peek at your neck, seeing the bruise he’d left, and pop a thick black choker on to complete the look.

The choker reminded you of hands you’d had on your neck.

You spritz on your new favorite spray, the one Gojo just lost his mind over, touching up your mascara and lip gloss. You hear the phone start to ring, and it’s Kiyotaka. You smile.

“Hello, Sir.”

“My lady.” He was the cutest. “Mr. Gojo has asked me to take you to him, I’ll be waiting right here when you’re ready.”

“Thanks I’ll be right down!” You turn off your lights and lock up, and as you end up riding in the back of the car, your mind runs wild.

“We’re here, my Lady.” Kiyotaka opens your door, and you realize where you are quickly. You’d been there a lot to help Gojo out of his messes. His house.

“What’s he up to, Kiyotaka?” You asked, he actually smiled a tired little smile then, shaking his head.

“I am sworn to secrecy, also the details were… too much.” He was flushing even in the dim evening. You giggled, touching his shoulder fondly.

“Gojo’s a lot. Okay, have a good night and don’t worry I’ll just crash here so you can get some sleep.”

“Mr. Gojo has a destination in mind, this is the first stop.”

“Oh…”

“I'll be back presently, miss.” He said and drove away, leaving you staring at the house in front of you.

The air was crisp and cool, a light breeze rustling through the trees around you, as if Gojo had his own little area of peace, in between the lush trees was his large house, opulent, ceiling to floor windows illuminated with a soft glow. As you stood on the steps of his house now, tapping your fingers against the smooth wood of the railing, wondering if Gojo would meet you out front or not.

Little shit he was, he didn’t.

You ring the bell, and stand and wait outside that opulent manor of his. A few long moments later, the sound of footsteps could be heard approaching from within the house, growing louder and faster until the door swung open, revealing Gojo Satoru himself. His bright blue eyes lit up in the dark, the background light casting a glow around him like he was some god.

Maybe he was.

When those eyes fell upon you, his gaze traveled up and down your body slowly, taking in every detail of the outfit he'd so carefully chosen for you. "You look beautiful. Part one of my fantasy is perfect." He breathed, his voice thick with desire.

You felt your familiar blush, the one that never went away long around him, as he bent down and you tiptoed, kissing each other. “Thank you for the… ahem… for the outfit. It’s so pretty.”

“I can’t wait to see it fully.” He stood, hand caressing your throat, fingering the little choker you wore. “Ooh, that’s hot on you.”

“Thank you. You gonna invite me in?” Your hands fall on his chest, covered by a soft white dress shirt.

“Oh I don’t know, what if you are a vampire? Shit I’m scared!” He asked, feigning fear then, a cross on his fingers. You snorted, shoving at him.

“You’re the vampire. Look.” You ease your choker up, showing him the giant red and purple bruise. He sucked in his breath, and suddenly you were in the house, shoved against his wall.

“Does it hurt?” He asked, and you were unsure of how he meant his words, a taunt? Concern?

“No, it’s just tender.” He kissed you softer, yanking on the choker just a bit, putting the slightest pull to your neck. “Mnh.”

Did that come out of your mouth? From just that?

“Oh sweetheart, you already are becoming a fucking freak.” He crooned the words, one hand on the wall next to you, the other rubbing across the exposed mark, causing you to tense in a mix of pain and desire. “I barely touch you and you fall apart, bet you’re wet aren’t you?”

“N-no. It's just… shit. Fine, maybe a little.” He slid the choker up and licked the bite mark, sending sparks of pain down you, making your tummy clench with desire so quickly it was ridiculous.

Gojo was so close, your air intermingling, hot sighs against your soft skin, you inhaled him, enveloped against his hard embrace. “Hmm. You sure are learning not to lie to me, that’s my good girl.” He slipped a hand down under the coat at the top, moaning softly when he grabbed a soft breast, pleased look on his gorgeous features. “You wore it.”

“Y-yeah. Because it’s pretty.” He chuckled, finally easing back. “Was there no date, just you fucking me on a wall and making Kiyotaka drive me home?”

He chuckled. “Would you complain?”

“No… yeah no. As long as I get food.” He grinned down at you, hair soft and falling, making you brush it back tenderly.

“No silly. I have plans. But I wanted you to show up like this for… reasons.”

You smirked. “Reasons huh.”

“Oh yeah. Also I wanted to do something first. Come on." He finally eased off you, making you miss his cool hard body, but the house was nice and warm.

The interior of Gojo’s house was elegant and tasteful, with large light gray couches in the living room, a sleek bar with stools, and his kitchen was one that had always made you envy. Double oven and an island in the middle. You walk along the plush carpeting, soft light filtering through fancy crystal chandeliers, casting a warm glow over everything.

The fireplace was lit, something that made you instantly ease, crackling a soothing sound against the soft jazz music he had playing. Everything about Gojo and his home were elegant, ridiculously clean, but he had cleaners for that. But Gojo still kept things tidy, even at his office.

“Come here, pretty.” You walked to him, and he swept you in his arms, starting to dance with you, alone in the living room, and you struggled not to hide your face from emotions. “I wanted a little dancy dance.”

“I kinda love it.” You peeked into his gaze. “You're so much more romantic than I thought.” He spun you around, a little pink on his high cheekbones.

“I'm giving it a shot.” You smile tremulously, pressing closer to him, falling into each step.

“Aww, I feel special.”

“That pussy is.” He purred the words with a wink.

“Gojo!” You smack at him, but he yanks you hard, dipping you low over his arm, your hair touching the carpet below, before swinging you back up.

“You want me full on sappy already, fucking brat?”

You shook your head, moving against him, finding your rhythm. “No… just be you.”

He paused, then kissed you, softly, one of your hands entwined, the other on your waist. You sighed into his lips, falling deeper and deeper. “Mmm we'll never get there if I keep kissing you.”

“Get where?”

“You'll see.”

You and Gojo were hand in hand as you went up the elevator to the restaurant Gojo had surprised you with, and you had only heard of it before, unlike any other in Japan. It was nestled in the heart of Tokyo, amidst the bustling cityscape of neon lights and endless high-rises, and it was up on the top of a high rise itself, one of the tallest, with rooftop seating.

As you approached, you could already smell the tantalizing aroma of fresh sushi wafting through the air, mingling with warm sake and incense. The moment you all stepped upstairs to the top, you were enveloped in an atmosphere of serenity as the evening sky and all of the lights of the city were just below you, gentle breeze blowing your hair around.

“What ya think?” Gojo asked, so casually, as you all were led by a hostess to a pretty little table by the balcony, with the perfect view of the lit up city under twinkling stars. You sigh happily, smiling up at him.

“It’s breathtaking. Really.” The chatter amongst the people also there intermingled with the light pop music playing as you were seated. The table itself was gorgeous, a single red rose rested delicately in a crystal vase, and a crisp white linen cloth draped over the table.

“Good I’m glad. It’s my favorite place.” He pulled out your seat, which was cushioned by a plump, red pillow. “My lady.” He purred, you giggled, scooching in, and he yanked the chair from across from you, sitting it next to you. The hostess watched on with envy, clear and stark on her face, as Gojo casually wrapped an arm around you over the back of your chair.

“Mr. Gojo, it’s always good to see you.” She said softly, leaning forward and handing him a little folded paper. You smirked, as did he, grinning and popping it down next to one of the ringed napkins.

“You as well, Kinako. Can we get a bottle of white to start?” He smoothly commanded, and her cheeks heated. “That good with you baby girl?”

You could feel her glare, and Gojo seemed to enjoy the reaction, as if he’d said it to prove something. You grow flustered, and feel his blue gaze on you, eyes twinkling with mischief. “That sounds perfect, Satoru. Thank you.”

“Ahem. Of course, right away Mr. Gojo.” She rushed off, leaving you two snuggling against the breeze, a strong hand cupping your jaw.

“Aww you jealous?”

“I figure this is everywhere you go.” He wiggles his brows.

“The ladies do love me.” He kicks his feet up and you scowl, shoving them down off the table. “What?”

“That’s so rude! You can’t just put your feet on it!”

“I pay enough.” He scoffed with a shrug, then peeked at you. “You don’t have shit to worry about.”

You felt a tightness in your chest as he spoke those words. “I wasn’t worried, it just would be nice if women weren’t so mean when I’m with you is all. So are you gonna keep her number?”

He snorted at you, shaking his head. “No. Why, when you’re right here?”

You kiss him then, uncaring of anyone around you both. “I don’t expect that you know.”

“Yeah well.” He crumbled up the number and winked at you. “I mean that pussy is elite, so.”

“Stop it. You’re actually being really sweet tonight. Thank you.”

“Mmm, I have my moments.” He nipped your lower lip as the waitress came back with a bottle and two glasses, a chilled fancy dark green bottle you couldn’t pronounce. “Ah, thank you.”

“Of course, Mr. Gojo. Here’s the menu!” She handed him it, and didn’t bother to hand you one, which at this point just made you burst out laughing. The waitress glared, and soon Gojo was laughing too, attracting the attention around you both. The girl grew pink with embarrassment.

“Is it okay if I eat too?” You ask her, and she looked properly ashamed, as Gojo nudged you with his shoulder.

“She’s such a angry bitch when she doesn’t eat. So abusive! Ow!” You smacked his shoulder, and he feigned injury. “God, save me from her!”

“I… I… ahem. I can get another menu.” You and Gojo went back and forth like children.

“No no, I’ll order this evil bitch something. Please pray for me, Kinako!” He took her hand, and you watched her melt, as Gojo’s shoulders shook with laughter. You felt so good and just… fuck.

Gojo was something.

“It better be yummy.” You threaten, and Kinako’s eyes are wide as Gojo holds a hand to his chest.

“Oh gosh, the pressure! She ties me down and makes me watch finance specials, you know. This is my cry for help!” You let out a pig like snort, your hands on your face as you die laughing.

“I’ll give you a moment, Mr. Gojo.” As she runs off Gojo nearly dies laughing right along with you.

“Now she’ll really want you!”

“Nah. She’ll be scared of your wrath.” He is flush from laughing, white hair falling in front of his forehead, shadows flickering in the evening lights of the rooftop restaurant, lit by soft lighting all around.

“You don’t have to turn anyone down.” You look down as you speak, but he tilts your chin up.

“No interest to me.” He said simply. Your lips part and you feel the desire for him pulling at you, the soft spot for him blooming. “I mean I like my nun, you know.”

“Good, your nun likes you. Okay what are you getting?” You peek over at his menu, and he points to some fancy name you can barely decipher. “Fuck, too expensive everything. Like maybe a chicken dish for me?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m rich as fuck. Let me treat you, please.”

You sigh, and he explains things on the menu for you, pointing out what is what, you decide on a small dish and earn his glare. “What? It looks yummy?”

“I like a girl who eats.” You roll your eyes.

“I do eat… just don’t have that god metabolism you do.”

“Your body looks good as fuck. Don’t wanna lose that ass do you?” You feel your cheeks heat up as he teases you.

“Oh gosh. Fine. Maybe this one?”

“A little better.” He wrapped his long arm around you again so casually, and you liked it. A lot. “You're kind of like my girlfriend now, you know.” He was casual as he trailed his fingers down your shoulder.

Your eyes widened, goosebumps under the coat. “Wh-what?” He chuckled, tilting your head to his.

“I didn't ask you out, just saying.”

“You’re confusing.”

“If I wanted to, probably would do it while fucking, you say yes so easy then.” You breathed out a sigh, trembling under his touch, his energy around you intoxicating, making you nervous not being alone.

You gulp for some courage, sipping the delicious white wine then. “You think you’re that amazing huh?”

‘No, I know I am.” He pecked little kisses up your jawline, long fingers playing in your loose long hair. Your heart was going wild though you wouldn't show it.

“Maybe.” You concede, earning his shit eating grin.

“You got all excited. Do you want me to ask you out?”

“I…” You trail off when the waitress comes back, and for once you’re thankful for the interruption, your mind a jumbled mess. You'd expected maybe to be some kind of regular fuck with Gojo or something… and pathetically maybe, you'd take it. Because Lord that man was talented. But a girlfriend you hadn't thought would even be a thing. You’d wanted so badly to leave not long ago, but things had changed so much.

You missed him just one day without seeing him.

“I’ll have this, and this for the lady. Then we’ll have this for dessert together, and also this and this…” He pointed everything out as the girl wrote it all down on a notepad, smiling and bowing in her little blouse and vest.

“Right away Mr. Gojo.”

Gojo pours you another glass, and you sip it, tangy on your tongue, and then caught a drip on the corner of your mouth, wiping it gently with a thumb. You press a little kiss to it, enjoying the catch in his breath.

“It’s delicious. Thank you so much for tonight, Satoru.” You take his hand, kissing his knuckles, and Gojo lets out a little quiet moan, drinking in your body still stuck inside the overcoat. His hand catches your thigh, his thumb playing with the little garter, bending low towards you.

“Good I’m glad. I’m dying to see this.” He whispered, tickling your skin with his breath. “Torturing myself tonight.”

“Maybe it’s a little torutre for me too.”

“Is it? Fuck, You’re already so hot here.” He said softly, tauntingly, hand close to where you ached for his touch. “I love how easy you are for me.”

“I’m not easy…”

“ For me .”

You scowl, sticking out your tongue childishly. “Shut it.”

“Admit it, brat.”

“I’m not easy for you I just… I don’t know, fuck. I get… yeah… easy around you, ugh why do you annoy me like this?”

“You love me, don’t lie.”

You froze, tensing, hoping he would not push that one and was teasing like always. But thankfully, food came before either of you could say anything else. Gojo’s plates and bowls took up much of the table, and he looked like a kid eating cake on his birthday at this point. He started piecing out everything, making you a plate, making you smile with the care he showed.

“Try this!” Gojo popped a little delectable morsel into your mouth, truffle something or other, and your eyes close in pleasure.

“Mmm!”

“See, so good! And this!” He slid another bite of a shrimp of some kind, and you chew thoughtfully.

“Ooh it’s good too!”

Gojo’s eyes grew impossibly brighter, grinning. “See, and this!”

“Gojo you really love food.” He chuckled, popping food into his own mouth, making chewing look sexy somehow.

“I do indeed. Come on, keep that ass nice.” He winked and tried to put more food in your mouth, you chuckled and shook your head.

“Let me try my dish silly.” You start to cut up your meal, and fork a bite into his mouth now, which he takes as sensually as a human could.

“Ooh that’s good too!”

You fall into a comfortable silence as you both nibble, sharing bites and sipping on your glasses of wine as the breeze flows, scents of foods filling the air, and the scent of Gojo’s tantalizing cologne. It was easy to be with him, so easy it sort of boggled your mind, a mix of friendship and comfortability. Eventually you all finish and the waitress brings decadent desserts.

“Eat this! Try it, it's better than sex!”

You shook your head with a laugh, and he was forking something sweet between your lips, hand under your chin to catch any crumbs. He wiped the corner of your lips as you chewed, licking the finger. You chewed the delectable treat slowly, moaning as the chocolate melted against your tongue.

“Ooh, it is good. Oof!” He handed you another bite, so sweet and hot in your mouth. “Not better than sex though.”

He grinned wide, blue eyes narrowing. “I must be fucking amazing. Considering you hated sex just last week.”

You felt your cheeks heat, the lingerie rubbing against your skin making you ache in places as you thought of him in you. “You won’t hear any shit talking about that aspect of you. Just the other annoying shit.” You started nibbling on a piece of some berry cheesecake confection, he leaned in, opening his mouth. You give him a piece of it, popping it between his lips, and he licks your finger.

“You kinda felt like a virgin honestly.” He mused, softer voice so that it was just between you two, and you nearly choked, sipping on your wine, that had created a delectable head fuzz.

“You can be tight and have had lots of sexual experience. Doesn’t mean anything really.”

“No shit, I know that. I’ve played with a lot of pussies. But no, not what I meant. Like I broke something.”

“Gojo! The fuck! You’re so full of yourself that you think you broke me?” You whisper, and he shrugs, so full of himself that you realize this is still Gojo, as sweet as he’d been you’d gotten confused.

“Well, I just wonder if the boys never hit deep enough. Smaller than these, remember?” He wiggled his fingers at you.

“You’re ridiculous. I mean… I don’t know. If not, wouldn't it have hurt a ton with you then?”

“Didn’t it? At first.”

You paused. Shit. “But that’s because you’re huge.” You peer nervously, making sure you all are out of ear shot.

“Lots of women took this dick fine. You had some trouble. Granted, you are kind of petite there.”

“You probably just want me to have been a virgin so I complete your nun fucking fantasy.” You pointed a fork at him and he tried to look innocent.

“You really basically were. Never been eaten out, no blow jobs… do you even remember having sex with the small dick college dudes?”

You frown, sighing. “Not really no… As I said it was just twice and both times I was not sober, but bits and pieces. I know it happened. Condoms.”

“Ah…” He paused, then studied you. “We didn’t use one, hmm.”

You paused as well. “Huh. We didn’t. Well, I’m on birth control though, so we don’t have to… especially if you mean to be exclusive. If you don’t want to use them. Gojo is this the best place for this convo?”

He quit eating for a few, hand back on your thigh. “Sure it is. Fuck, the thought of you pregnant is kinda hot though. Maybe go off it.”

Your mouth opened in shock, then you felt yourself heat up, probably red as the jacket you wore, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Satoru! No, what the…”

“Mmm it is though.” His hand went to your tummy, splaying over it, leaned over you so close you were sure you two looked scandalous. But you craved his touch. “I wonder if I put enough cum in you if I can fuck through the birth control then?” His words were slow, deliberate, nearly a silent purr out of his lips and fuck… they did shit to you. A lot of shit.

“Jesus…” You feel your thighs shift, and he notices it, movements like a hawk. “Is this a kink thing again?”

He let out a low chuckle. “You could definitely say that. I think you may be a little interested in it by that response.”

You bite your lip against the thoughts that flow through your head, imagining him cumming in you, over and over, until… God you all were in public, what were you…

“Mind going wild?” He taunted you. You had no energy to lie, simply parting your lips a bit and sighing, as his hand pressed into your tummy, hot and firm. “Thinking of me filling you up here?” His lips caressed your temple as he bent low and murmured those dirty thoughts you shared.

You let out a little cry and then covered your mouth quickly, but he heard it, and the mood changed suddenly.

“Say it.” His hand pressed more, slipping under the coat you still wore deftly, thumb splaying down past your navel. “You could feel me here, couldn’t you?” You nod weakly. “Can’t use your words?”

“Mmm.” You cover your mouth once more, aching against the plush seat, unable to stop your reaction as friction started against your pussy. Gojo looks like he’s won the fucking lottery.

“Wanna go?” He asked, and you nodded.

You two asked the waitress for cases, and packed up food for later, you with trembling hands, and him with calm and sure ones, heading down the elevator until you were out in the night air, where Kiyotaka waited with the large black car. Gojo opens the door for you, and you two slide in the back seats, and it doesn’t take until the door is shut for him to start to unbutton your jacket.

Your head tilts back a bit, and he’s kissing your exposed neck, deft fingers undoing the buttons swiftly, until he opened it up fully and sat back, drinking your body in. His eyes grew hooded, full lips parted, his nostrils just slightly flaring before his hands eased the coat off your shoulders, just bunched up on your arms now, pooling behind you.

You were so beautiful, your lush breasts cupped by this lace, chains glittering against your smooth skin, exposed in little areas, concealed in others, enticing Gojo like nothing he had ever seen. You gaze up at him with desire in your eyes, your lower lip being bit by your teeth, brow just a little worried, as if you were nervous. But how could you be, when you were so perfect to him?

Gojo struggled to keep a steady touch, not to show how much you fucked him up mentally, what you did to him. You were his fantasy, and here you were, in something he’d dreamed of for a couple of years now. He got to watch you fall apart, show your true nature, embracing your desires, let go.

Even his dreams didn’t live up to you, however, his eyes were drinking every inch of your curves… sinful how good you look, soft, your skin silky, feelings written all over your face. You were leaving him wanting to kiss every inch… simultaneously driving him crazy as he pictured so many ways to have you.

Gojo was just sitting there, his eyes devouring you in your lingerie, not even touching you, and you shifted, pussy aching and insatiable for him, wanting some kind of friction. You craved his lips on you in the worst ways. Wanted more of that cock that had been inside of you only one time so far, but was now something you were desperate for again.

Big hands gripped your thighs, spreading them just a bit to see that you wore those crotchless panties, that your glistening pussy was bare to him. He groaned, then kissed you deeply, pushing you down into the back seat, tasting like the sweet treats he’d eaten and just… him. Gojo.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He whispered, and instinctively you wanted to shake your head, but he held your face, hard. “Nuh uh. No denying it. Got me?”

You nod then. “Thank you, Satoru.” You say instead, and his lips join yours once more, hard long body pressing on top of you, making your hips arch up and wiggle for more contact. His finger is quick to find your glistening folds, swirling your wetness around your already throbbing clit. You cry out, but he drinks your cries, going in aching slow circles.

“Fuck. I wanna do this in my bed.” He mumbled, and you gave a little breathless laugh, kissing his neck, tasting the little saltiness of his sweat.

“I hope you did clean your sheets after snorting coke on Erica’s ass.”

“Pshh, I really didn’t fuck her. God you’re jealous and don’t even date me yet, another hint you want it?”

“Am not! And I…”

“The sheets are clean as fuck. But we’ll probably be ruining them.” He eased off you, closing the jacket up loosely. “We’ll be home soon.”

You all get into Gojo’s house and it’s mere seconds before your coat is gone, leaving you looking obscenely sexual in lace and chains. He rubs his large hands greedily down your body, leaving each area in a trail of goosebumps on your skin, until he hits the thigh high boots, raising a brow.

“Ooh, I really fucking like these.”

“Yeah?” You tease, hands on his shirt, unbuttoning them slowly, pop pop they went until a large sliver of his chest and abdomen revealed themselves. His smooth pale skin was taut over each muscle and groove.

“Yeah.” He bent down, a breath away from where you were exposed, unzipping your boots slowly. “Steady yourself on me.” You did as he said, holding on to his bare shoulders as he lifted each leg. There was something ridiculously sensual about Gojo taking off your shoes…

He pushed you gently, until you were against the wall, and raised one of your legs over his shoulder kissing up your thigh and peeking up at you with that breathtaking azure gaze. Your heart stopped, breathing erratic, hands shaky on his strong shoulders. “May I?”

“You don’t have to ask.” You watched his reaction to those words, and stared down as the tip of his tongue slid up your aching slit, eyes not leaving yours, making you even more sensitive. “Ah! Fuck…”

You cried out and Gojo slid his tongue up and down again, tasting you, before his thumbs parted your lips to open the area to your clit, and he was flicking his tongue, fast. You lean back on the wall with your head, eyes fluttering shut, and Gojo was worshiping you on his knees.

Your hips were shoving forward for more of his wicked tongue, that seemed to know you even better now. He knew the pressure he needed, the pace, it was insane and heady. As he shoved his tongue in further, humming on your clit as he sucked it into his mouth, you started screaming.

“Satoru! Unh… yes… I … ah!” You fell apart all over him, your mind and body shattering from pleasure, shivering as it flowed through you, and he was drinking your wetness more and more, riding out your orgasm with his moans.

He eases up, and has to hold you, for your knees did not even want to function, before kissing you, deeply. “You taste so fucking good, baby girl.”

“Mnh… th-thanks.” You can hardly speak. He grins against your lips, then snatches you up, your legs around his waist, and he’s walking you through the house, opening the door of his room deftly, laying you down on his black soft comforter. His bed is so soft you feel your tense body aching.

“I don’t even want to take this off of you, but I need these out.” He mused, and sighed as he did so, unsnapping off your bra with ease. He also slid off your panties, but he paused on the stockings. “Hmm. Let’s keep these on. And this.” He fingered your chain. You nod eagerly, making him laugh. “Can’t find words, baby girl?”

You gulp, licking your lips. “Orgasm brain, remember?”

“Is that all it is? Not the talk earlier about me fucking a baby into you at the restaurant?” He yanked on the chain you wore, pressing it into your soft skin.

You gasp then, eyes wide, and his are sparkling, glittery blue, fucking wicked demon that he literally was. Your mind whirls, your eyes darting away, before being brought back by a firm hand on your chin. The scent of Gojo is everywhere in this room, clean and woodsy and so fucking addictive. It fills you, as does his breath, his touch, those words.

You lick your lips, peeking up at him through lowered lashes. “I want you to fill me up, Satoru.”

That came out of your mouth?

His body tensed over you, he had his pants off, and he shoved into you in one hard thrust suddenly, shocking you, filling you to the brim. So different from his ease inch by inch yesterday, but God it felt deliciously good, that cock stretching the tight cunt of yours. So deep it was damn near in your tummy he spoke of.

Gojo lifted your legs up over his elbows, shoving deeper. You cry out loudly and he's holding your face with two hands then, pausing,and he is so deep it's insane to handle. Wriggling under him trying to relax your muscles, but your pussy just throbs around the invasion and stays tight. Gojos hair falls over his brow as he states down at you.

“You okay?” He asks it through gritted teeth. You nod, sighing as you hold on to his strong arms. Even being a little rougher he clearly cared for your comfort.

“Good. Good.” You haven't been able to speak sensible words most of the evening. That really wasn't like you but Gojo's cock was now in the equation. He smiles above you, and pulls out to shove back in.

“How flexible are you?” The question made you worry what was next, and before you could answer, he had your legs all the way up, pressing them hard against your body. “You'll take my cum better this way.”

Gojo began to pump, hard and fast, but not fully in thank God, the friction and rhythm way too much, making your already sensitive cunt hit its peak quickly, and then you're cumming all over his hardness. He hisses, easing back and pushing deeper as your body becomes lubricated from your release. You moan into inviting lips.

“You feel so-so-so good, Satoru. So… so… mmm.” You were feeling yourself start to fall apart again as he fucked you deeper, making you ache, his eyes glittering as they watched your every expression.

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around this cock. Is this what you wanted all day, baby?” You nod weakly, and soon he eased up on your legs just a bit, yanking your choker off, air hitting the bruise.

Your screams echo the room as he bites hard on already sore flesh, tearing into the bruise as he fucks and fucks you harder, the slaps of his skin against yours loud. His balls are smacking against your ass, his pelvis against yours as he sinks deeper. Your head lolls to the side, fingernails digging into his perfect skin, leaving marks. Your body is taut, tense, as you feel another peak start to rise.

“You cum so easy for me, don't you little brat?” He demanded above you, breath making your throat burn from the new bite. “Look at me.”

You turn your sore neck, and he's kissing you again, sloppy, tongues sliding against each other, his saliva dripping into your mouth. He is moaning his own pleasure into your lips. Gojo yanks your body, sliding it down so he becomes impossibly deeper, now going in and out with ease. The noise of your wetness mixes with the sensation of it dripping out of you and around him.

“Use your words. You want me to fuck a baby in here. Don't you.” His hand presses to your tummy, and he grins, white and devilish above you. “I can feel my dick fucking your guts up.”

“I want you to. Unh. Please please please.” You had no shame anymore, head falling back into the soft bed as he now was fucking the shit out of you, using your body to yank you further onto his cock.

“You're so hungry for this cum, are you?” You nod, gasping for breath then when he reaches a hand down and finds your puffy lips, your little clit, rough thumb rubbing. You begin to shatter, everything fading but Gojo. “Say. It.”

The thrusts became even more intense, your over sensitive clit being played as your insides were jumbled by his cock. You gasp for any sense of self, mind whirling, your body on fire, tensing, muscles taut, but everything is just him. Satoru.

“I am. Fuck! Ugh. I want your cum so deep in me.” Your words made him shut his eyes, forehead resting on yours for a moment, you could feel him shaking.

“Do you, fucking cum hungry slut? Want it all in this tight fucking pussy?” He growled the words, and you should've hated them, but God you loved it. You'd be his slut. Goddammit. Especially as he started hitting that spot so deep only he could find it in you, making you see stars.

“I want it. I need it. In me deep, please-please. Ah!” The play became too much and you started cumming once more, nails digging into his back as you hang on for dear life while he rails you through your orgasm, heightening it.

Gojo hisses as your cunt is pulsing around him now, his hand easing off your slickness, to press against the bed next to you, leaning up his body and altering the position inside of you, rubbing against your walls. “Milking me with that little cunt for all of this cum, aren’t you?”

You just nod, wordless, breathless, each stroke making you oversensitive now. “Please, Satoru, please.”

He groaned over you, slowing, fucking erratically now, so tense. “Want me to put a baby in you?” He hissed the words through his teeth, brow furrowed, eyes bright and mad. “Fucking breed you?”

“Yes yes yes. Put a baby in me. Yours. Mnh yes.” He fell apart over you, with shaky groans, rhythm jerky. His arms are digging into the soft backs of your thighs, and you could feel his hot cum shooting in your tight hole, so deep. You felt yourself coming when he pressed against your cervix, bottoming out, pushing the cum further in.

“Take it all. Every fucking drop.” He throbbed in you as you did around him, sucking in all his cum, which was leaking out of you as it mixed with your own. You relaxed your body, gasping for air, and he eased your sore legs down, pulling out, and you trembled, his cum sliding out of your pussy down your inner thigh.

“Fuck.” You sat up just a bit on your elbows, panting heavily, and then he pulled off to look down at the mess he'd made, smiling like the devil.

“You took me so good, little nun.” He shocked you, playing with his cum that had fallen and shoving it back into you, hurting sensitive flesh with long fingers. His gaze was wild, and it intimidated you then, so powerful and fucking insane, eyes all dilated. “Don't waste all this cum, now sweetheart, take it all.”

“Satoru… I… I can’t…”

“All of it. Like a good girl.” Gojo shoved in more, and you felt tears prick your eyes, overstimulation taking hold from coming so hard so much. “Aww, you're so pretty crying and dripping with my cum.”

“Ugh. Fuck you, jerk.” He laughed, easing off you then just to lick on your sore neck, torturous. You hissed. “Fucking vampire!”

“You can run that mouth again, should I fill you up with more cum until you can't fucking speak?” You moaned, and he kissed down your breasts. “You are already so eager for more. My nun is becoming my little slut.”

“Can't… cant…. hurts. Too much, too much.” You shook when he sucked on one of your nipples, fingers shoving into you one more time, making you cry.

“Giving up, are we? Tsk tsk. Fine. I love looking at you like this, though.” Gojo shoved those long fingers into your mouth then, and you were sucking both of your come off them, tasting both of you, so deep it made your tears flow out more down your cheeks, pleasure, overwhelming, pain, so consumed. “So pretty, baby.”

You felt hot sticky tears fall to your lips, salty tasting along with the come, and you saw him gaze down as if he owned you. Maybe he did. Your brain didn't work anymore, as if his cock had truly scrambled it.

“Satoru… I…”

He finally slid off you, laughing at you now. “You're such a mess. Poor baby girl is in tears. Can't talk again? Did I fuck your smart little head up.” He kissed your forehead sweetly, a complete contradiction to his words.

“Ugh. Never mind. You're such a dick!” He laughed again, pulling you against him and hugging you.

“Now I have to know. What were you gonna say?”

“Fuck it, no.” You felt him wiping tears away, frowning now. He touched your chin gently.

“Hey, was all that too much?” His words were soft now, deep voice so caring it couldn't match a moment ago, caressing your face. “If you ever don’t like anything just tell me.”

“No, I liked it. A lot. Asshole.” He sighed a bit, as if relieved. “I just really am… I really… l…”

“Really love my dick?”

“Stop cutting me off!” He put a hand to his mouth trying to appear innocent. “Conceited ass.” You roll your eyes. “I… ugh I guess I just feel a lot for you.” You looked away, so embarrassed. He would probably taunt you, tease you…

“Yeah, same.” Your eyes met his in shock. He was on one arm studying you very seriously.

“Yeah?” You whisper, and he nods just a bit, tense himself.

“Yeah… although that's been a kink of mine, I've never fully acted on it.” Gojo's cheeks dusted with pink.

“Oh?” He nodded.

“I guess no one has made me want to put a baby in them so bad. Drove me a little crazy there for a bit.” His half cooked smile was sort of shy, a side you never saw of him.

“I drove you crazy hmm?” He nods. You feel way too warm inside at the thought. “Sometimes, you're really sweet, you know.” You caress his soft skin on his face, kissing his forehead. He closes his eyes with a sigh.

“I feel… Things too. Shit, this isn't normal even for good sex. The connection is… I…” Your heart thudded, body weak to fight anything, mind askew. He cleared his throat then, smirking. “You didn't even try to deny any of it tonight, no fight left huh. Just please Satoru, please!”

You scowl and smack him hard, he grabs your wrist with his wicked grin. “I can't tell if I like, love, or hate you at any given fucking moment. Ugh! You're so annoying! I’ll show you fight!”

He was laughing softer now, pulling you against his chest, warm against your face. “I kind of know the feeling, you're such a bitch. Then sometimes you’re my sweet, little cum hungry brat. Ah ah no more hitting. Or I'll smack the fuck out of this.”

His hand gripped your pussy and you squeaked. “No no no.”

“We will have to get working on that stamina of yours, little virgin nun.” You scowl up at him. “I’d like to fuck more than once in a day but no ‘I hurt Satoru, no no!’”

“Hate it is.” He grinned against your hair, snuggling you. “I took it way better this time, I am not a nun.”

“Fuck yes you did.” Another kiss. Another fall deeper into love you went for this shithead. Fucking Gojo. “Let me take care of you… That was a lot, hmm?” You nod shyly into his chest. “Want a bath?”

You moan. “Ooh yes please. I haven't had one in forever. Just have the stand up shower.” It sounds heavenly 

“I'll get you one started. And some ice for that neck.” He kisses you once more, hopping off the bed. “Be right back.”

You finally peek around the bedroom, breathing in and out a bit, your entire body was aching from his touches, from his cock, his hands… his teeth. You hiss in pain when you touch it, hearing the water running from the bathroom. His room is all in blacks and dark blues, elegant modern furniture, nothing too extravagant, but still looked sleek and expensive.

The bed you’d been positively railed on was a dark wood four post bed, high, thick and plush. So comfy your body wanted to just fall asleep in it. Your fingers ran over the cover, soft under your palms. Gojo came back, stark naked, and you felt yourself hurt from how gorgeous he really was, every inch of him so chiseled.

“You’re so…”

“Perfect?” He wiggles his brows, batting his spiky lashes. You shake your head at him as he sits next to you.

“Yeah.”

His eyes widened. “Really? Not a conceited shit?”

“That too.”

“Mmm, there’s my girl. I like how mean you are.” He gently kissed your neck where he’d been annihilating you over and over. You shiver, then he brought a cool little napkin against it. You moan.

“Oof, that feels good.” The cool ice feels so good you lean into it. He hands it to you, and you press it against your neck, as his fingers go down to your chain, gently unclasping it and then working on your garters. He peppered little kisses down your legs as he did so. “A girl could get used to this.” You mused.

“You’re awfully lucky. I’m Gojo Satoru and here I am, at your feet all the time.” He kissed your ankle then. You flush. “Blushing all over.”

“I do like you on your knees.”

“Oh fuck, dom much?” You shook your head, biting your lip, sitting there completely naked in front of him.

“Dom… Dominant?”

“That’s it. Look at you learning.” A fingertip taps the tip of your nose super condescendingly.

“You kinda are a dom though? Right?”

“I am. But I’d switch it up if you wanted.” He stood, and pulled you up.

“Me dominate you?” It was hard to imagine. He grinned.

“It’s not my thing really, but then again, I love when you’re so mean. Maybe I’d try it once. Let you fuck your frustrations on me.” Heat pooled embarrassingly in your lower tummy all over again.

“I should try on top some time though, yeah?” You ask, a little nervous for some reason. “What if I suck up there, though?”

He chuckled, bending down and popping a kiss on your head. “You won’t suck at all. We’ll try it next. Come on.”

Gojo guided you to his bathroom, which was bigger than your own bedroom, easy. Gorgeous tile, cream marble, an enclosed glass shower on the left and a giant claw tub on the right, pretty granite counters with two sinks and a lit mirror. The tub was filled with bubbles, and he bent down to shut the water off.

“It’s beautiful here. I haven’t ever seen your bathroom. Weird.”

“Come get in, princess.” He held out a hand, and you took it, easing your aching body into the tub. You suck in a breath as the hot soapy water hits you, sitting and sinking in, sighing, leaning your head back in bliss. “Never thought I’d have you in my tub.”

“Never thought I’d be in it.”

“You like?”

“Very much so. Thank you.” You peek up at him, and he is studying you, gently running his hand against your hair.

“Want me to wash your hair again?” You nod, shyly. “You’re so shy about silly things but I push cum in you and you’re good.”

“I’m just… in the moment I guess. Get in here.” You tug on his hand.

“I was gonna pamper you. From here.”

“Mmm, no, get in.” He sighs with a grin, standing, cock still huge even though it was not hard at full force at the moment. He comes to sit behind you, water rising, fragrant bubbles brushing over your breasts, his hard body against you. He eases your back against his chest, kissing your cheek.

“Such a demanding brat all the time.”

“Maybe I am.” You sigh in bliss, the water gently waving as he adjusted against you, growing hard again, you between his thighs. “Yep I love this.”

“Good.” He turned your face towards his with his hand, bringing your lips together, a hand trailing errantly up and around the peak of your breast. Both came to cup them, then, and you let out a little whimper. “How’s that stamina tonight, champ?” He teased your nipples with his deft fingers then, gently twisting them a bit, eliciting a gasp.

“You so doubt me, huh?”

You turned, thighs on either side of his lap now, bringing your pussy against his hard cock, your hands on his chest. He groaned, blue eyes sultry as they studied you, hands on your hips. You lean down and take his cock in your hand, placing it at your entrance, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, cheeks puffing as he exhales, making you feel bold.

“Fuck you’re hot.” He murmured, pulling you against him, water splashing against you two, his thick tip stretching your puffy lips apart, making you tremble when it slid into your entrance just a bit. He halted you. “Hey, hey, let me work her up.”

“I can take it.” He raised a brow with a smirk, and you ease down on him, inch by inch, going up a bit to ease down more every time. Gojo’s jaw clenched, his grip tightened, two little lines between his brows.

He cried your name out when you sat down on him fully, and hearing it moaned from his lips was nearly your undoing. You shake as you hold on to him, fully sheathed in you, stretching tight aching muscles in your pussy. You shift a bit, and he hits something inside, and then you’re rolling your hips, hitting it again and again, starting to come already.

“Fuck, baby girl. Mmm.” He guided your hips, and you were thankful, so clueless up there on top of this beautiful person. His white hair was dripping wet in places, lips glistening from your kisses. You fumbled a bit, unsure of what to do, as if reading you, he pressed up against your cervix, making you throb, wetness and heat inside of you and around you.

“Like this?” You ask hesitantly, sliding up and then back down at an angle, he gripped hard, nodding.

“Do what feels good.” He took a peak of your breast into his mouth, sucking gently, and you began to listen to your body, to the sensations, riding him in the tub, both of you quickly finding pleasure heightened between you. Your legs start to ache, and then he picked you up and started fucking you.

“Mmm, I can do it.” You pout and he smirks under you, water sloshing all over your bodies.

“Let me use you like my little fuck doll. Yeah?” His words hit you hard.

“Yeah.” You managed to whisper, and soon he was using you just like one, making you come hard as he used your body to pound up into, and he continued on, until you both were drowning in your desire.

You were drying your hair with a fluffy blue towel, wearing one of Gojo’s super expensive dress shirts and nothing else, peeking over at him as he slid on a pair of black boxers and a soft gray tee shirt.

“So, would I ever be able to snort coke off your perfect tits? Hypothetically.” You started laughing at the random question. “Or ass maybe.”

“Nah I’m not Erica.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fuck off with that. I literally got drunk and high and just bitched about you leaving the whole time.”

“Aww, that’s actually cute. Kind of. Minus the snorting coke off her ass thing.” You pecked his lips then, and he exhaled, pulling you against him. “I don't like that shit.”

“I know. Haven't even done any since… since whatever the fuck we’ve been all week.”

You smile at that. What were you two? “It’s not my place to say not to, we’re like not together officially, are we?”

He frowned. “What do you call this then?”

“I don’t know… what do you call it?” He kissed you gently.

“Let’s start with this. You’re mine. Okay?” You tremble at his words. All you can do is nod. He groans, inhaling your scent and bending low over you. “You look so hot in my shirt.”

“It’s so comfy too!” You do a little shimmy and he chuckles, kissing you deeper and deeper. “Let's go to bed. We have to work tomorrow and shit.”

“Ugh fuck work.”

“We can work on the speech tomorrow night after?”

“You just want more of my dick, little slut.” You shove at him and he tackles you down to the bed. “I will try not to do much coke then, if it upsets you, by the way.”

You brush his hair back, soft from your bath, silky, studying him. “It does but like I said it’s not my place. I know it’s not like something you do in excess. Maybe I am the uptight stuck up bitch.”

“Oh you definitely are. One day I'll snort a line off you.”

“Oh fuck no you won’t.”

“So boring.”

“Boring? I just rode you in your bath, fucker.” You glare up at him. He sighs, pecking little kisses all over you.

“It was fucking amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Sleep, huh? Also boring.” He pouted and rolled his eyes. You shook your head and giggled.

“I’m sleepy, Satoru. You’re the best snuggler aren’t you?”

He preened at that like a peacock. “Fucking bet I am.”

“Then let’s cuddle.” Gojo slid under the covers with you, asking his device to turn off the lights, and you were in his arms. You ached to just tell him how you felt, but you were terrified to ruin shit before it started. Gojo kisses your head, gently wrapping an arm around you, spooning you. You felt so safe in his arms.

“Satoru?”

“Mmhmm?”

“Thank you for the date. It was perfect.” You could feel his smile against you then, as he pulled you tighter, the sounds only the clicking of the clock, the crickets outside and the two of you breathing.

“Even though the waitress was so dick hungry?”

You sighed. “I can’t blame her. You’re pretty hot, you know.”

“I do.” You felt him pull you tighter. “But you’re mine. So I’m yours. You could fist fight a bitch I bet.”

Yours. Mine. The words echo in your mind.

“Oh my god! No, I will not even.”

“So boring.”

“Shut it. Just kiss me goodnight.”

Gojo leaned over, and you saw his bright eyes even in the dark room, with the moonlight streaming throughout the thick black curtains of his room illuminating them. He kissed you softly, but firmly, impossibly igniting more desire and more feelings with every breath, before kissing your head and letting you turn back around against him.

You were pretty fucked.

How would work go?

Would he rail you on his desk?

Shit.

“Sweet dreams, baby girl.” He said with another kiss on your head, brushing your hair back gently. You kissed the hand that was playing with your hair, holding on to his arms that wrapped you tight.

“Sweet dreams, Satoru.”

Chapter 9

Ao3 Chap:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/141807505

[controlmyfeet]

i still feel everything when you are near - matty healy

matty healy x ex!reader

angst

warnings: exes, alcohol consumption, insecurities, jealousy (kinda?), pining, kissing, crying (lmk if there’s more i need to add!)

a/n: not sure about this. i think the last time i tried to write fanfiction i was 13, so feedback is appreciated but pls be nice lol. also, english is not my first language!

3570 words

it still hurts. 

i didn't think it would hurt as much after 6 months, but seeing him in the flesh makes me realize it does. i thought i was already used to it, thought i was actually doing a good job moving on, if we ignore my slump in the first 3 weeks after the breakup, where i would just leave the house for work and groceries (that i would overbuy because i forgot i'd just cook for myself), i think i was doing pretty okay.

i should've guessed he would be in the city. he can't stay in one place for too long; if he has a few days free in between shows, he's going to look for a studio to work in. usually in london, los angeles, or here. most of the time, he ends up here.

but i never know where he is anymore.

i deleted twitter from my phone after 2 months. maybe because of the questions, perhaps because i didn't care, or maybe i was tired of reading all the tabloids and fearing they were true. maybe i care too much. whatever, right? it just means i haven't seen him in a while, even in pictures.

i'm sitting by the dark wooden bar counter when i first spot him. he's standing with charli and george in the vip section near the dj booth, surrounded by people as always. my friends noticed that he's here too, but they haven't said anything, which i'm grateful for. i'd rather pretend it doesn't affect me.

he looks different, though. his arms are bigger, and his hair is longer; soft curls fall over big brown eyes that crinkle whenever george says something funny. he still has that boyish smile.

lulu and bea went dancing and i said i'd join them in a minute. we go to this club every time we're in the city, but tonight it is more crowded than usual. my secluded spot at the bar being the only place i won't be pushed around. still, i feel bad. it's my best friend's birthday, and we came to new york together to celebrate, but instead, i'm drowning my sorrows with cosmos. 

"you won't even say hi now?" i hear matty's voice from behind me and turn around, startled. he stands tall and confident as always, but his eyes no longer hold the same energy. here, up close, i can see that his eyebags look more prominent, and his stubble has grown slightly. he looks tired. i don't think i look any better.

"hi," i say, looking into his brown orbs, phlegmatic, as if the butterflies in my stomach aren't going batshit crazy right now "i didn't see you, sorry."

he grins cheekily, "it's alright, darling."

i don't really know what to say. he should hate me, honestly. it wouldn't be surprising considering how we left things, with all the yelling, name calling. with all the broken picture frames. it started with another rumor while he was on tour, another leaked picture. he was so dismissive and vague about it that i just couldn't find it in myself to trust him, and he could only complain about how childish all of it was.

i guess he doesn't, though. they have free drinks inside the vip section. i remember it from when we came here together. he doesn't need to come all the way to the bar for a drink.

"it-it's good to see you," i stutter, apprehensive now. fearing that maybe he really does hate me, and just walked over to tell me how much so. i mean, i would hate him, too, if i could. but no matter how hard i try, i can't. and believe me, i've tried.

matty is standing so close that the loud music sounds muffled now, and the warm, dim light of the bar reflecting on his silky skin makes me want to melt into his arms. so i try to keep my eyes focused on my feet.

he seems to notice that i'm struggling as i fidget with my empty glass.

"can i get you another one?" he asks amicably. my eyes shift from my feet to the glass in my hands and back to his eyes.

"sure," i reply shyly.

he asks a bartender polishing wine glasses next to us for another cosmopolitan. behind the man, shelves from the same material as the counter hold a collection of glass bottles of different colors with labels sporting french and italian names. matty sits on the barstool beside mine. "so…what are you doing here in new york? i thought you hated the city this time of the year." 

and it's true, i hate new york during the summer. the concrete buildings seem to make the temperature much higher, and tourists crowd every corner. it feels claustrophobic. the subway also smells extra bad during these months. but i loved being here with him, no matter the season. i loved being anywhere with him.

"well, yeah. but it's lulu's birthday, and she wanted to celebrate it here, so here we are. the three of us." 

"bea is here too?"

"she is, yeah."

him talking about my friends is familiar. many sunday evenings were spent on his couch sharing a bottle of red with my newest candle burning on the side. at the same time, i'd tell him about the most recent gossip in my friend group, and he would listen.

the barman places the new drink before me and takes the empty glass. i thank him and take a sip of the pink liquid. it's sweet and sour, and the vodka calms my nerves a little bit. he's staring at my lips. so i lick them clean.

he shifts, and suddenly, i feel his calloused fingertips brush against my elbow resting comfortably over the counter. much more tender than last time; my skin burns where he touches it.

"how's your writing going?" he asks, looking into my eyes now.

i tell him i'm still at the magazine, it's going alright. not a lot has changed since we broke up. but it's less exciting, more monotonous. i leave that part out. and he asks me about my own stuff, poems and essays hidden in my drafts.

it's just awkward small talk. so awkward. like we're just acquaintances. friends of friends being left alone, being civil to each other.

it's also a conversation we've had before. documents on my computer that weren't fitting enough for the editors or that i just wrote on a whim. he used to tell me to publish them either way, to leave the magazine and find people who actually appreciate my work, or to start my own thing. but it would be useless; they're not good enough.

"well, i don't know, it's been a while since i've written anything out of work." i take another sip, just to calm down a little. "haven't felt very inspired lately." 

oh my god, shut up– i can't say this to my ex. it's embarrassing, pitiful.

"it happens." he takes my hand and brushes his thumb over my knuckles. i still shiver "you're really talented, love. you should be proud of yourself. i am."

even his praise hurts now; i miss hearing it daily. it's a stab in my chest, salt on the wound. so i just bite my lip and nod. afraid that if i say something, a choked sob will come out. 

there's longing in his eyes, and he gets a look like he wants to say more. but his gaze flickers behind me for a moment, and he drops my hand and gives my left shoulder a squeeze, showing me a soft smile. 

"i'll leave you be, then. it was nice seeing you, love."

there's a voice in the back of my head begging me to make him stay, but i know i can't do that, not when i recall why it ended the way it did. still, i want to reach for his hand and pull him back to me, just for a few minutes at least. but someone grips my shoulders.

"there you are!" lulu says excitedly, already a few drinks ahead of me. her dark blonde hair messy and her skin glimmering with sweat from all the dancing. bea follows right behind her. "c'mon, let's do some shots, you need to power up for all the dancing you owe me."

"alright." i force a giggle and down my drink as bea asks the bartender for three tequila shots.

a few minutes and many shots later, the three of us are on the dance floor, swaying wildly to the loud, thumping bass of whatever music the dj's playing. just being around my girls makes me feel less anxious, and the flashing lights, plus all the alcohol already flowing through my body are making my mind a bit hazy, which helps me let loose a little. 

as i move, i can feel the beat of the music inside my chest, sweaty bodies pushing against me without a care. i even forget about matty for a minute. i don't think about how his hands used to feel on me when we danced together, not at all.

we dance for maybe 30 minutes. until lulu finds one of her many ex-flings, and, as they catch up, bea asks me to go to the bathroom with her. taking my hand, she leads me out of the crowded area and towards the door labeled "ladies' room". 

the contrast from the mostly dark club to the bathroom's white walls makes my eyes squint. it's colder in here, quieter. i can hear the stifled bass from the music and high heels clicking against the floor tiles.

as i wait for bea, i brace myself on the sink in front of me and look into the mirror. everything is happening too fast. talking to matty, downing shots, and being dragged to the dance floor immediately. my head is pounding. i didn't have the time to process what is going on tonight. 

my ears are ringing, and it feels like all the alcohol has suddenly lost all its effect. instantly sobering up, i grab a paper towel and dab it on my arms and face to try to get rid of the sweat. turning on the sink, i wet my hands and place them on the back of my neck to cool down and try to help with the dizziness. i hear the toilet flush, and bea comes out of the cubicle, running her hands through her wavy black hair. i reach into my purse and pull out my lipgloss, coating my lips evenly while looking at myself in the mirror.

"i'm going to the back for a bit," i tell bea as she approaches the sink next to me.

"you okay? do you need water?" she asks, concerned

"yea- yes, i just need to breathe a little."

"okay, text me if you need anything." i just nod and leave the bathroom. she knows me, knows i need to be alone.

pushing through crowded bodies, i head to the club's back door, leading to a narrow alleyway where the employees usually store extra liquor bottles. it also doubles as a smoking area, so i shouldn't be surprised when i see him as soon as i open the door. tattooed arms flexing as he lights a cigarette, probably not his first one of the night, and i turn back to try to leave before he sees me.

"leaving so soon?" i turn around again and already feel my cheeks heating up. embarrassed, like a kid caught eating dessert before dinner. "you can stay."

"it's okay, i'll go somewhere else," i wave him off mindlessly. he came here to enjoy his cig on his own, right? he doesn't need his ex-girlfriend plaguing his chill alone time "i don't want to bother you, i just need some air."

"please stay." it's not the first time he says this, but this time i do. 

with pink-tinged cheeks and heels clicking loudly, i slowly walk down the three small steps in front of the door and move to stand across him with my back resting against the club's brick wall. the warm summer air hits my skin, and i can hear the rustle of the traffic. "you could never bother me." i pretend i didn't hear him.

"i thought you were quitting," i motion to the burning cigarette between his fingers. the moonlight illuminated the alleyway, making the smoke around him look like some kind of silver aura. he smiles at me.

"i'm trying," he says, taking a drag and blowing it out by the side of his mouth, and i laugh.

"it sure looks like it," i reply, still smiling. i'm not as nervous as i expected i would be in this situation; maybe the alcohol hasn't worn off as much as i thought.

he shrugs, running a hand through his hair. "well, you know me".

my eyes follow his every movement, long, calloused fingers holding the rolled paper limply and bringing it up to his red, pouty lips. i start to fidget with the end of my skirt, trying to distract myself by looking at how my fingers twist the fabric. busying myself, so i don't remember how those same lips used to feel against my own or on the curve between my neck and shoulder. 

i look up again when i hear matty step on his cigarette– putting it out– and he starts to walk in my direction. my breath hitches. we are face to face now, noses almost touching. closer than we were at the bar. i can see every freckle on his face when he's this close. i can see the chapped corner of his mouth and the grey that's starting to show up on his now tousled hair.

"why did you leave?" he's straight to the point. his voice comes out low, almost a whisper. at our position, there's no need to be louder than that. there's no hatred in his tone; still, he's not smiling. a flash of hurt appears on his face for a moment. "didn't i make you happy?"

"of course you did, matty." i build the courage to look into his eyes, honey pouring out of them. "we've already talked about this."

he lifts his right hand to rest it on the wall beside my head while letting out a scoff. "but i don't get it," his tone is a little bit louder now. he's not aggressive, but he's not whispering anymore. "what happened?"

"it was for the best." i've stopped whispering too. i place my hands on my forehead. as if to avert the impending headache that will follow this conversation. i don't really know what happened either or when it started happening. i feel sweat droplets running down my hairline, not sure if it's from the summer heat, our closeness, or my disquietude. 

"for the best of who?" he questions, lifting an eyebrow, "i don't feel any better!"

"we were fighting all the time, you know this!" there's a lump in my throat, and i can already feel the pressure between my eyes, working hard so the tears don't fall. i lower my voice again. "it was only a matter of time until one of us left, i just left first."

his gaze softens– probably after seeing my flooding waterline– and it's a while before he talks again, as if he's gathering his thoughts. thinking before he speaks for once, "i could never leave you" it's a low, gravely whisper, and i probably wouldn't have heard it if we weren't this close. "i wish you'd stayed." 

it's a blow to my chest. like a gunshot, blood running down my ribcage. and for a second, i don't think i can breathe.

"i wish you'd done a lot of things, matty." my vision is blurry now, and i feel a single tear roll down my right cheek. i wish he would answer my calls when he stayed late at the studio. i wish he would listen to me when i said i felt neglected. i wish he would give me more security when i felt jealous of the girls partying with him and the boys while i was on the other side of the pond. i wish i stayed. when i can't sleep because i suddenly realize that my bed is too cold, too empty. when i wake up, and there are no kisses on my bare shoulder. when i have to climb over my kitchen counter to reach the can of pasta sauce on the top shelf. when i'm so anxious, and there's no one to hold me… "sometimes i wish i stayed too." 

slowly, his hands cup my jaw. long fingers run lightly across my skin and wipe the lonely tear on my face. the hairs on my neck straighten up, and my heart stirs, beating a little faster. he carefully traces his right thumb over my lower lip, giving me time to reject and push him away. and then, his soft lips lock on mine. no warning. i feel his stubble rub against my chin and let out a sigh. there's a flutter on my lower stomach, burning. i should have pushed him away. instead, my fingers trail up his neck, nails brushing against his skin, and finally into his hair as he coaxes his hot tongue into my mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, of course. i can also taste the rum and lime from the mojito he had earlier. one of his hands travels down and he pulls me by the waist, bodies touching fully now. matty groans into my liquored mouth and i preen; it's good to know i still have that effect on him. that i can still make him let out those pretty sounds with just a kiss. it might be selfish, but we both are. because i bet he's proud too, that every touch of his still sends shivers down my spine. i pull out for air first, lungs already starting to burn. my fingers are still buried in his curls as he rests his forehead on mine, both breathing heavily.

"i need you, love," he whispers against my kiss-swollen lips, voice cracking. there's a smudge of lipgloss on the side of his mouth. it was no use reapplying it.

"matty, i can't," my voice comes out weak, just like how i feel.

"why not? you got somebody?" matty frowns, starting to sound a bit agitated.

i shake my head lightly "i don't."

"what is it?"  

"i already told you" it's my turn to cup his face now, scuff prickling against my palms. "we already had this fight before, you get annoyed because i can't trust you, and i start yelling because you don't take me seriously!"

"of course i take you seriously!" he defends, already becoming increasingly exasperated. i just shake my head; there's no use going through this all over again. it hurt enough the first time. however, i still close my eyes, knowing that if i keep looking at him, the chances of me believing him are higher.

"i'm not built for this, matty," for being away from him, for time zones and phone calls, for pretty girls throwing themselves all over him "i'm not strong enough."

"look at me, baby." his hands moved from my waist up to cup my face again, thumb brushing lightly over my cheekbones. "please," i open my eyes.

"do you love me?" he asks. i realize his eyes are glossed over now "because i love you. so fucking much."

it will be easier if i say no, break his heart all at once. give him a reason to give up. it takes me a while, but i nod.

"yeah?" there's a glimmer of hope on his wet iris.

"i do, but-"

"then we'll figure it out" it's not that simple; just figuring it out is not enough. we hurt each other.

"we'll just end up in the same place, matty," i explain firmly. at this point, tears stream both of our faces. his chest heaves, and i try to contain another sob. he turns his face slightly to press his lips to my palm, just for a second. 

"stay with me, please." our noses touch, and i can no longer distinguish his tears from mine. "i'll do better, i swear."

"it's not going to work."

"just for tonight at least, please," it comes out ragged, and he grazes his lips on mine, leaving a gentle but salty peck. "just for a little bit."

this shouldn't be happening. it's a mess, all of it. no matter how hard or how many times we try, even if we start all over again, we'll just end up in the same place. i know how i am and how he is. our love is tainted, a ticking bomb. so no matter how much i love him, how much i want him, i know we'll just go back to those screaming matches and broken pictures.

but if we keep doing this again and again, maybe then we won't have to say goodbye. at least i won't have to spend an entire lifetime missing him. so maybe just one night won't hurt, right? i've done it a million times. staying for just a little bit won't hurt…i think.

okay, just for a little bit.

[blissfullyapillow]

General Disclaimer! Spoiler Warning for 2.1 story quest!!

Hello!! Oki oki with that warning out of the way, Here's my request: Caelus,Jing Yuan and Aventurine reacting to the player crying during the 2.1 quest.

I mean as the quest progresses the sadder the player gets. Besides Aventurines whole backstory, what really makes player crumble is how they relate to Aventurines plight. Just being so tired, constant survive mode, the desire to end it.

Eventually player just pauses just to cry saying "you son of a.... Aventurine.. *sniffles **sobs* me too.. *sniffles* me too..." before collecting themselves after crying a bit to completing the quest, relating to Aventurine a bit too much.

(and at the end as he walks towards the black hole, player says "My Kakavasha,, ill see you soon")

If youre uncomfy feel free to decline! Thank you in advance :)

Notes: Hi Shiromayyyy, I apologize for the long wait! I hope you don’t mind me adding my own little spin on this. I’m also sorry that it’s a little on the shorter side, but I do hope you enjoy it! I really loved writing this request :>

Masterlist

I struggle to contain the brimming enthusiasm that threatens to overflow, anxiously waiting for Honkai Star Rail to finish loading. I thoroughly enjoyed the previous quest in Penacony and played it until the late hours of the night on the day of release. I can only imagine where the storyline will head.

Albeit, I’m still feeling apprehensive about certain characters, namely Aventurine and Sparkle. I understand there’s clearly more to be shown about these two, but the way Aventurine presents himself honestly irks me to the core. I simply hate people who behave the way he does, and I truly do not see myself ever liking his character. Of course things could change, but well…

With a sigh, I dismiss such troublesome thoughts from my mind. My eyes light up with uncontained delight as the game finally loads and I find myself back in Penacony. It’s time to see what this quest has in store!

── .✦

Oh.

I’m sure my face reflects my conflicting emotions; my heart lurches at the revelations being presented to me. Aventurine’s backstory is truly heartbreaking. I was adamant about my distaste for Aventurine previously, as I even discarded the free lightcone I received with his face on it, but now I can’t help but feel swayed. 

I pout as I click for the dialogue to continue. I can’t believe I’m actually relating to Aventurine… and how tragic his story is. Living through such an experience is truly… atrocious.

As the story goes on, my mood takes a nosedive. I find myself relating more than I’d like to Aventurine; the constant survival mode, being so tired of life’s unfortunate circumstances, and just wanting to end it all..

My eyes tear up as Aventurine, or I should say Kakashava, bends down to be at eye level with his younger self, a black void serves as an ominous backdrop for their important conversation. 

My feelings slowly build to a breaking point and I’m forced to pause the dialogue. I fail to detain the tears that threaten to escape my eyes, and a sorrowful sob slips past my lips. "You son of a.... Aventurine.. I can’t..” It all feels a bit too much, so I allow myself this moment to cry and collect myself. 

Honestly, these feelings I harbor for Aventurine surprise me. I never would’ve imagined myself relating to him as much as I do, but here I am.

I take a few deep breaths and calm myself before finishing this touching cutscene. As Aventurine walks off into the black hole, I whisper "My Kakashava, I'll see you soon…”

I complete the rest of the quests for the story, enjoying every twist and turn the story provides. Penacony is easily my favorite storyline so far, and I can only imagine what else Honkai Star Rail will come up with!

⋆｡˚ Aventurine’s Reaction ✧˚ 

Saying Aventurine feels startled is an understatement. He’s genuinely just so… surprised? He remembers you mentioning just how much you didn’t like him during the previous story quests. He didn’t mind, truly, since he’s been met with such scorn his whole life.

Yet, seeing the tears cascade down your face causes something to stir within him. He doesn’t entirely know what it is, yet he feels it. He can’t pinpoint a name for this feeling, but it’s there, and… it makes him feel alive.

It makes him feel significant, in what little way this may mean. And, oh- he struggles to control his facial expression as you bid him a farewell. 

He feels conflicted; he understands opinions can change and that they’re valid, whether he agrees with it or not, but… well..

He feels that he just may like you more than he’s willing to admit. 

｡𖦹°‧ Caleus’ Reaction ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

As you run around penacony with him, eating ice cream cones and causing your usual havoc, he takes this opportunity to gather his thoughts.

He’s seen all sorts of reactions from you before, ranging from downright goofy expressions to one’s of allure and intrigue. 

Yet, seeing you cry stirs feelings of turmoil within him. On one hand, he’s touched that you’re really enjoying his adventure’s and finding people you can connect with on a deep and personal level.

 Nevertheless, it still pains him to hear the obvious pain in your voice as you speak to Aventurine. 

He hopes that future stories bring out more positive feelings for you, and in the meantime he’s more than willing to engage in the many side quests you pick up for him to do. 

Secretly, he loves hearing your laughter when his dialogue options appear, and the way your eyes shine brightly whenever you scroll to his character. 

He’s become quite fond of you. 

ᨐฅ Jing Yuan’s Reaction 𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

Jing Yuan finds your reactions to Penacony’s story line to be quite amusing in its own way. He’s thoroughly enjoyed tagging along as you discovered the hidden truths of the Planet of Festivities. 

Although, he would’ve preferred if your tears were spared. He’s used to heartbreak and pain through his experience as the general on the Xianzhou Luofu, however it does not making witnessing it any less grievous. 

Which is why he’s overjoyed as you begin to perk up, exploring the festivities Penacony has to offer the player. It’s entirely all too humorous when you hunch over in laughter at the interaction taking place on screen. 

Many times he’s been shocked by something you’ve said or done; one time, an out of left field, wholly absurd comment left him utterly flabbergasted, yet he struggled to hold back tears of mirth all the while.

Jing Yuan enjoys seeing what choices and decisions you make as you play the game since your personality shines through each and every decision you make. 

He can’t wait to make another appearance in the story, if only to see your elated smile of surprise as he appears on the screen. Oh, you have no idea just how charming you can be, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t consider himself thoroughly enraptured by your charm.

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter eleven: i am always running back to you | read chapter ten

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.7k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: SO SORRY.... it was the horrors (midterms). hope this chapter makes up for it because boy it is a lot of fun

The rest of the evening passes slowly.

It does nothing for your nerves, truthfully, but you keep yourself preoccupied with Wade. He crawls now and that leaves him wanting to explore every space possible. So, while Wally runs out for dinner and Linda wraps up a meeting with her editor, you watch over him and make sure he doesn’t get into anything he shouldn’t.

Dinner is deep-dish pizza—directly from Chicago. It’s all very indulgent, the way Wally can do things like that; he spoils you in that regard and you tell him as much as you wash dishes and he puts them away.

“Nah, it’s nothing,” he says, shooting you a small smile. “Besides, it’s for me, too.”

And you can tell that’s true by the four empty boxes of pizza that he ate, with two for you and Linda. 

But still. When he leaves…

It’s not just that that you’re going to miss. With or without the speed, you’re going to miss him. Him, Linda, and little Wade.

Despite not saying that—because you don’t want to be a downer, because their home is in Keystone City, not here, and you don’t want to be selfish like that—he senses the shift in your mood.

“You know,” he starts, “me and Lin were thinking…”

“That’s never good.”

He nudges you gently, grinning. You shake your head, smiling, too. You pass him a freshly-washed plate and he dries it. 

“Well, wait until you hear what we were thinking about.”

“What?”

“We think you should visit us every now and then.”

The thought that they want you around is warming, as usual. But…

“I mean, I would love to, Wally, but I can’t really afford that… Maybe, after I see how everything adds up during the fall, I can come for the holidays or something. But…”

He shakes his head. “Come on, kiddo. You think we’d say that and leave it up to you?”

“I don’t expect—”

“I know. But you should. We want to do whatever we can to see you. You aren’t the only one that’s going to miss something when we leave, you know. That’s why we’re doing this. Besides,” he grins at you, lightening up. “Who do you think you’re talking to? I can get you to Keystone in under a minute right now.”

Considering that Linda has told you that his speed is efficient but leaves one with a horrible bout of nausea and vertigo—at least in the beginning; she’s barely affected these days—you feel some mild apprehension.

But those things are temporary. You can withstand that, if only to see them again.

“Or,” he goes on, “we can fly you out, but that would honestly be pretty cumbersome and would also take too long.”

“It’s a plane, Wally. That is the fastest form of transportation we have in this country.”

He sniffs. “I’m the fastest form of transportation we have in this country. In the world! One of them, anyway.”

“Well, that’s how we normal human beings function. Not everyone can run faster than the speed of light.” 

“Not everyone should,” he agrees. “I’d lose my appeal. That would suck.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“So, is that a yes or—?”

“Alright,” you relent, smiling. “How often are we talking?”

He smiles a tad bashfully. “Once or twice a month? You can come on the weekends… Just—you know. I know you’re gonna be busy with classes but…”

“It sounds like I should be getting a nice break every month if we do that. I mean, I can’t promise I won’t have work—”

“Just as long as you’re around, kid. That’s all we want.”

Your face warms at the earnestness in his words, embarrassed, though you know you really shouldn’t be. “Wally.”

“Hey, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been in this game too long to try and dance around feelings. Hopefully your boy will learn that, too.”

“You aren’t wrong,” you mutter, shutting off the water and drying your hands, making a mental reminder to put on some lotion before they get annoyingly dry from the hot water and dish soap. “I’m just not… used to that.”

He shrugs, tossing his dish towel over his shoulder. “Like I said. In a world like ours… it’s important.”

You don’t disagree. But you can’t rail too hard on Tim. Questionable decisions regarding his feelings aside, the both of you only came to your senses after he had a close-call today. What does that say about you, that he has to nearly die for you to realize you need to see him again? Need to clear the air? 

It’s human, you think. So very terribly human of you.

It’s not like you’re unappreciative of him in your life but… you know this dance and song. You only realize what you have when you lose it. Look at your parents. You’ve slipped right now but you’ll fix it. You’ll make sure he knows how much he means to you.

But more importantly, right now…

“You guys… mean a lot to me, too.” You turn, seeing Linda pause near the island, and meet her brown eyes and even though it makes your face hot and the words get stuck in your throat, you force them out, underpinned with what you hope they can tell is sincerity. “You do. So much.”

Your throat tightens and you duck your head as your eyes burn. 

Hard to quantify. Hard to put a label on what they mean to you.

But you know that much. That they mean the world to you. 

Warm, strong arms come around you, squeezing you tight. You sniffle when you feel Linda come up behind you, squeezing you, too.

It’s an emotional day, you decide. For all of you. 

So, you take a long shower to try and pull yourself together, then head to bed, bidding Wally and Linda goodnight.

You don’t intend to fall asleep when you crawl into your bed. It’s better to stay up, to wait for Tim to get here. But the day’s events start weighing down on you as you curl up beneath the blankets.

You try valiantly to stay awake by scrolling on your phone but it’s a Sisyphean task to do so. As your eyelids grow heavier and heavier, you know it will be a task that you fail as you stop fighting and give in to sleep.

It’s only the vibration of your phone that rouses you. 

Groping for it, the display is obscenely bright in the darkness of your room. But the text waiting for you is unmistakable, impossible to miss.

i’m here

Suddenly recalling what you and Tim had agreed upon, you shoot up in bed, ignoring the head rush the action gives you. 

The window that leads out to the fire escape is right next to your bed, covered by curtains. You toss your phone aside, rolling out of the warm cocoon of blankets; the AC in this place works well, a little too well, you think groggily as your bare feet connect with cold wood floors. 

You shove aside the curtains and though you know who is waiting for you, that it is Tim, just Tim, your best friend, the still-not-fully-awake part of you clenches up in fear, thinking it might be Batman that is moving in the shadows, only barely illuminated by the full moon. But you know better than that.

It helps that your eyes are already adjusted to the darkness, recognizing the figure crouched in your fire escape. Dressed in… oddly enough, sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a light jacket. Completed with a plain black domino mask—not the usual one he wears, more akin to Robin, save for the color—that obscures the blue eyes you know and love.

You reach for the window. Well-oiled and taken care of by the owners, it is virtually silent as it slides open. 

Muggy July heat rushes in, chasing away the cold.

Without the window and with your vision quickly clearing from bleariness, you can really take him in. The tension in his body, the way a breeze ruffles through dark hair, the twitch of his hands to you before they clench into fists. Waiting. 

For you. 

Your throat thickens painfully when your eyes snag on the white gauze taped to the left side of his neck. 

Just a graze, Steph told you. But he lost a bit of blood anyway and his neck… if it had been the right side, would he not be here right now? Maybe it doesn’t matter. It’s his neck, there are so many important arteries running through there. 

If anything else had happened, if he’d moved even a little bit, he wouldn’t be here.

That realization, coupled with the overwhelming emotions at seeing him again since everything, pushes you over the edge.

Your eyes burn with tears. You reach forward, ignoring the soreness in your belly, one hand grabbing his wrist and tugging him right into the circle of your arms. 

That breaks the stalemate. He goes quickly, arms sliding around you as the first of your tears start sliding down your cheeks.

“Tim…”

He holds you tighter, impossibly warm, letting out a shuddery breath and whispering your name, too, everything inside you shivering at the sound, at the warmth that wraps up the syllables of your name. 

“I’m okay,” he breathes. “I’m okay, I swear.”

“You were shot.”

An exhale of a laugh. It sounds shaky with emotion.

“Technically, I was grazed.”

“Tim.”

He presses his nose to your hair, hand stroking up your back.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, lips brushing your forehead. “I wasn’t going to die before I got to see you. No way.”

You sniffle. The two of you are quiet, speaking lowly, but you’re suddenly too aware of the other window on the fire escape, the one for Linda and Wally’s room. You don’t want to wake them—or god forbid, Wade—so you reluctantly extract yourself from his arms, tugging him again.

He follows easily, sliding through the window with a grace you aren’t used to. He shuts the window silently behind him, banishing the muggy air that had leaked inside. You wipe away your tears, attempting to piece yourself together. 

As he turns back to you, hesitantly now, the air conditioner clicks on, and a second later, cold air starts blowing into your room. It should help cover your voices a little bit.

For a moment, it is silent. 

Tim shifts on his feet across from you. The domino mask renders him impervious. Impossible to read without seeing his eyes.

But not totally impossible. The way he bites his lip doesn’t just draw your attention to his mouth, tempting, traitorous thoughts briefly crossing your mind, but it also clues you into his nervous state. 

“I’m sorry.”

He speaks first, blurting the words out, seeming almost surprised at the way they escaped him before he decides to go with it, doubling down on it.

Taking a deep breath, he looks at you, whispering your name. “I’m sorry. For lying to you. For coming to you as Red Robin instead of myself. For everything. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I know.”

You were in that position, too. You didn’t fuck it up this badly but… you each had your parts to play. No one is blameless here.

“I just,” he stops, looking away, hands clenching at his sides. “I want to be friends. If anything else. I want that.”

If anything else.

You understand what he is saying here.

He isn’t here under any pretenses. Isn’t expecting you to take him in with open arms. Would be fine as friends.

Well, you don’t want that.

“Tim.” 

He looks at you. You extend a hand. Waiting. Not demanding.

Slowly, he comes to you. Palm sliding against yours. Warm and a little clammy, calloused but still soft. 

A few inches of space separate you when he stops. 

This close, you can feel the heat of him. Smell his shampoo, soft and fragrant. Eucalyptus. 

You squeeze his hand once then let go. 

He and Red Robin are two sides of the same coin. There is no Tim Drake without Red Robin, you think. Not right now. 

Maybe it’ll change, down the line. One part of you selfishly hopes so.

You’ll always want him. But as Red Robin, the risk of losing him triples and you are greedy enough to want to mitigate it. The same with Steph. Even with Wally, who is considerably more durable. All of them, duty-bound, honor-bound. You cannot ask that of them. 

Right now, though, you think you can make that demand. At least temporarily.

You reach for him. Pausing when your hands near his face. But he doesn’t move. Just looks down at you and you wonder if he can hear your heart, with how hard, how loudly, it pounds in your chest.

You have to be certain.

So, when your fingers finally touch the smooth material of the mask, before trying to lift it, you ask, in a whisper, “Can I?”

“Yes,” he breathes, some emotion you don’t know underlying his voice, one that makes your face warm and your heart skip a beat.

Your fingers find the edge, slowly, gently peeling it up. It peels and peels and peels until finally, it detaches into your hands. Almost flimsy now but with a certain weight. 

That’s not what retains your attention, though.

It’s him. It’s always him.

Tim’s eyes are closed, the tiniest of wrinkles found between his brows.

You imagine what it must be like to him. Letting you do that. Peel back the final layer of him once and for all. Letting you see him. Tim. Your Tim.

Keeping the domino mask loosely grasped in one hand, your other reaches for him, your thumb finding the wrinkle between his brows. It smooths out instantly at your touch and his eyes flutter open.

There they are.

It’s a shade of blue that haunts your dreams most nights.

Usually a lighter, softer color in the light, something like cornflowers, but right now, they’re midnight sky blue, looking at you with a heavy kind of affection, warm and unbridled. 

Your hand settles on his cheek. He leans into the touch. Your thumb strokes over the sensitive skin under his eye. Where dark circles mar the skin, exhaustion finally clear in his face.

You smile sadly. “You look tired, Timmy.”

“Last couple weeks,” he swallows, “have been… rough.”

“Tell me about it.”

He smiles. It’s a small thing but no less beautiful to your eyes. 

Then he sobers up, gazing at you, pained. “I am sorry.”

“I know.”

“I was an idiot.”

“I know.” You take a deep breath. “We both were.”

He opens his mouth to protest but you speak before he can. 

“It’s true. You know that. We didn’t handle this like we should but it’s… it’s in the past. We can’t change it. We just have to move forward.”

A slow nod, then his eyes flicker to your hand, still between you two, still holding onto the domino mask. He takes it from you. 

You aren’t sure what you expect, but it’s not for him to toss it away, landing somewhere in the darkness, a near silent sound. 

“Tim—“

“It’ll never come between us again,” he whispers and your breath catches at his words; his hands find yours, pulling the one on his cheek into his own, squeezing. “I promise.”

You take a second to compose yourself, letting out a slow breath.

“I believe you,” you finally say. “And… no more lies. Please. Tell me the truth. The whole truth. I want to be there for you, for all of it.”

“It’s going to hurt.” 

Not a protest. Just a statement. A warning. 

“So, it’s even more important for me to be there.”

He swallows, eyes searching yours. “Are you… are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“So… we’re okay?”

“No.”

His face falls. “Whatever it is… I’ll make it up to you. I swear. Whatever you want.”

“I want you.”

“You have me,” he promises. 

“Not like that.”

He stiffens up, breath catching as he understands what you mean. He looks down at you, shock clear. Understanding but not truly believing. That won’t do.

“I love you, Tim. Not just as a friend but…”

You’ve said it to them both. I love you. And this ‘I love you’ isn’t better than the one you tell Steph, than the one you told him for the first time, back when your feelings were still strictly platonic. It doesn’t mean something more, something deeper, something elevated just because it’s romantic. But it’s different. In what you want. In what you long for. 

He whispers your name. 

You let out a slow breath. “And if you want that, too, then…”

“Of course I do,” he breathes, letting go of your hands to cup your face, bringing you closer. “Of course I do. There’s nothing else, no one else, I want. I just… I never wanted to assume.”

“I know.”

“But if you’re on board then… then we can try it out.”

It feels more like ‘trying it out,’ though. Despite the uncertainty, the whirlwind of emotions, everything that has happened, finally talking it out, finally laying everything out on the table… you’ve found solid ground. A foundation you can build upon. 

It is no mere crush. No simple infatuation.

You are in love with Tim Drake. Plain and simple.

And he is in love with you, too.

You close your eyes, fingers curling around his wrists. After a beat, he presses his forehead to yours.

“I love you, too, you know,” he whispers. “I have for a long time.”

Your face is hot, flushed with heat, your heart pounding. You feel so light, like you might fall up, untethered by gravity and floaty from the cotton candy-sweet warmth unspooling in your chest, clogging your veins and the arteries of your heart. It wouldn’t be a bad way to go. 

But before you do…

“Tim.”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

He kisses you.

Gently at first, tenderly, lips warm, soft, tasting faintly of spearmint. You feel like you might melt into a puddle of goo at it, at knowing it’s Tim who is kissing you so sweetly, making your knees feel a little weak.

You shuffle closer. He inhales sharply at you pressing into his space, curling around you to close the final bits of distance. It turns the kiss a little fevered, a little hungry, a little desperate.

You’ve missed him so much. You can’t stop yourself from whispering that, pulling away to do so.

He shudders at your words, lips pressing to your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck, and you open yourself up to him, too willing, too happy to let him have you like this.

He keeps saying it. Whatever you want. But he can have whatever he wants from you, too. Anything. Everything.

“I love you,” he breathes against your neck and your breath catches at the reverence in his voice. “Can you—can you say it again?”

“I love you, Tim,” you whisper and it pulls another shiver from him, lips pressing to your fluttering pulse and your knees really feel like they might give out. 

Your fingers grasp the material of his jacket, tugging, and he brings his lips back to yours, giving you a mind-numbing, synapse-slowing kiss. 

You separate eventually, foreheads pressed together, trying to catch your breath.

“Will you stay?” you ask softly.

“I’ll stay,” he promises, leaning back to press a heartachingly tender kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes, holding onto him.

After a moment, he pulls away, shedding his jacket, draping it over the footboard. You close the curtains over your window, then crawl into bed. When Tim comes over, he tries to push you over. Not hard. A gentle—persistent—nudge to your shoulder, keeping in mind your injury, though you should tell him that it’s healing much better at nearly three weeks since it happened. Enough so that Steph said she could see about Crystal coming over to take the stitches out, just to avoid waiting at the hospital, and the bill, too. 

“Oh, hey—”

“Let me sleep there,” he urges. “I feel better if you’re furthest from the window.”

“Hero types, I swear.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he leans down and scoops you into his arms. You yelp and he shushes you. You can’t stop your giggles as he unceremoniously drops you on the other side of the bed, the one closest to the door. He crawls in after you.

“You’re going to wake them up,” he whispers but he’s grinning, too, as he slides under the covers, laying on his side.

“Who’s fault is that?” you shoot back. “Just ‘cause you and your savior complex need to be by the window—”

He muffles his snickers into the pillow, eyes closed, lips spread in a grin. Your chest warms and you wiggle closer to him. 

Tim lifts an arm so you can settle against his side. Wary of the gauze on the hollow of his throat, you settle for tucking your head underneath his chin, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

He strokes a hand down your back, a warm brand between your shoulder blades. Sleep isn’t far off your conscience, right at the edges of it, and with the warmth of his body and the reassurance of his embrace, you’re moving fast to it.

But before you do…

“Tim.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ll… you’ll be here in the morning, right?”

His arm tightens around you. You feel him press a kiss to your hair.

“I’ll be here. I promise.”

And he is. 

When you rouse an indeterminate amount of time later, awakened by the sounds of activity outside your door—Wade’s high-pitched giggles, Wally’s low murmurs to him as he feeds him breakfast, the water running in the pipes as Linda uses the bathroom—Tim is still there. With you.

Deep in sleep, still, even with the slivers of light that come in from your window and the noises coming in from outside. Probably the repercussions of his ‘rough couple weeks.’ It’s quite similar with you, if you’re being honest. Besides, you hardly mind, basking in the feel of your legs tangled together underneath the blankets, the heavy but reassuring weight of his arm around you.

You manage to pull away a little bit to look at him, blinking out the bleariness in your eyes as you rest your head on the pillow, his face a couple inches from yours. Eyes shut, dark lashes casting shadows over his cheeks, breathing soft and slow. His hair is a mess, some parts of it flat from the pillow and sticking up in other areas. You spy a few creases from the pillow on his cheek, too. But even with that, he is still so beautiful to you.

You sigh, snuggling closer to him, shifting so you can run your fingers through his hair, your eyes falling shut again. You can stand to sleep a little while longer.

He lets out a soft, contented sigh as your fingers glide through his hair, gently taking out tangles as you go. 

You pull away after a moment, feeling sleep lapping at your senses again. 

You doze for a little while, rousing again to more noise from outside. The sound of the TV. Wally and Linda murmuring to each other. Wade giggling. 

Tim shifts, groaning quietly. The sound, rough with sleep, makes something inside you clench, sparks of heat waking you up more fully so you can watch him wake up, too.

He rolls onto his back, stretching, then sagging into the mattress. You stay curled up on your side, your calf thrown over his, watching him wake up with a small smile on your lips that you know must be horribly lovesick.

Finally, he turns to look at you, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hi.”

He gives you a sleepy smile. “Hi. Watching me sleep? Weirdo.”

He still has pillow creases on his face. You reach up to trace them.

“Well, you like this weirdo.”

“I love this weirdo,” he corrects. “Guess it’s fair, considering my night job.”

“Right. Watching you sleep—which I wasn’t, by the way, I was just waiting for you to wake up—”

“Sounds an awful lot like watching me sleep—”

You grin and pinch his cheek. He grunts, halfheartedly batting your hand away and taking it in his, lacing your fingers together. 

“Anyway. That’s not that big of an offense compared to, oh, I don’t know, dressing up and fighting crime each night.”

“Think that’s part of the whole ‘we love each other thing,’” he teases.

You smile. “I guess so.”

“So, then…” His eyes stray from your face, to something else, nerves clear as day; too early in the morning for him to make a solid attempt at hiding them from you and well. You know him. For better and for worse.

“Mmhm?”

“I guess I should take you on a date.”

“You guess?”

He blushes, red settling high in his cheeks in a way that is… decidedly tempting. “I mean I should. If—if you want to, of course.”

“I didn’t kiss you just for kicks, you know.”

“I sure hope not,” he agrees, looking back at you, face softening. “Will you, then?”

“Of course, Timmy.”

“And maybe…” He turns, reaching for you. You go easily, your fingers still tracing the pillow creases on his cheek. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders as he turns onto his side. In the warm light of the morning, his eyes are a softer shade of blue, the one you know and love. 

“Maybe…?”

“Maybe… you’ll give me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

Oh, geez.

Your face flares with heat, heart skipping a beat.

“You cornball.”

“You love it.”

Your palm finally settles on his cheek—hot to the touch, too, flush still lingering behind. You lean forward to press your lips to his forehead. He lets out a shuddery breath, arm tightening around you briefly.

“Yes, Tim,” you murmur against his skin. “I would be happy to.”

“Thank you,” he whispers, but it doesn’t like he’s thanking you for agreeing to it—at least, not just that. 

Maybe for everything. 

But— “You don’t have to thank me. It’s not… I love you. That’s all there is and that’s all there ever will be.”

You pull back, thumb stroking over his cheek. He leans forward, lips pressing gently to your cheek. Your fingers find their way into his hair, sighing contentedly as he kisses down to your jaw. 

You get so caught up in that, the knock on your door scares the shit out of you both.

Wally calls out your name. “You up, kiddo? Lin’s makin’ eggs and rice.”

Tim pulls away quickly and you sit up, your face hot.

“I’ll, um, be out in a few.” Your voice is steady, thankfully, but you can’t say much about your pulse, your heart beating out of your chest. Tim is sitting up, too, looking around the room—presumably for the mask he discarded last night. 

“Okay,” Wally says. “Will Tim be joining us?”

You both freeze. 

You should’ve known better, really. Wally’s been doing this for a long time. Nothing much will slip by him. Not unless he lets it. 

Tim turns an impressive shade of red. Tempting, like it always is, but mostly, you just feel like a teenager caught red-handed with her boyfriend.

…Which isn’t too incorrect of a description.

You look at him, lost. 

He clears his throat, raising his voice to respond. “I—uh, yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine,” Wally responds cheerfully. “Hope you aren’t allergic to sesame because I don’t care and I’m not going out to get something different for you.”

“Wally!”

Tim smiles, shaking his head. “I’m not allergic.”

“Too bad,” he says. “It’ll be ready in a few.”

Footsteps leave. Wally hums to himself loudly, happily. 

You and Tim look at each other for a second before a giggle escapes you. Then another. He joins you in the next second, until you two are laughing loudly, listing into each other and flopping onto the bed.

In the kitchen, even from here, you can hear Wally and Linda laughing, too.

You grin breathlessly, looking at Tim’s smiling face, and decide the embarrassment of getting caught out is worth it, if you get to have this. All of them. 

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[hp-hcs]

Please more Tom riddle x ftm Reader 😩

vine? what’s that, like, herbology? (chapter four of phoenix tears) — 40s! tom riddle x ftm! dumbass! granger! reader

uh okay so i accidentally gave tom religious trauma so that’s a thing in here

imagine being cool and requesting lmfao couldnt be yall

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“What in the Goddamn Hell did you do?!”

You fall off of your bed with a shriek when a pillow hits you straight in the face with a whap!

You hit the floor with a solid thunk, picking up your nearest weapon—a single converse sneaker—and chucking it at Harry, who’s practically dying laughing on his bed.

Tom looks alarmed, partially at your fall, partially at the abhorrent language. Glancing down at where you’re sprawled on the floor—when you’d been sitting on your bed beside him just moments ago—Tom shifts his gaze to an overdramatic, whining Harry, clutching his shin and pouting like a petulant child, then finally, settling his gaze on a furious, fuming, irate Gryffindor girl with bushy hair.

“You Goddamn fucking dumbass-” the mystery girl arms herself with more pillows, chucking them at you with a surprising amount of force. When Harry laughs again, at your expense, he receives a pillow to the face as well.

She stands in the center of the boys’ dorm, her hands clenched into fists and her eyebrows furrowed so deeply, Tom wonders for a second if she’ll start steaming at the ears like the characters in newspaper comics do. Who is this girl, who so freely speaks the Lord’s name, as if she isn’t afraid of being beaten?

Hovering in the doorway to the boys’ dorm is an apprehensive redhead, who flounders for what to do for a moment before slowly joining the angry girl at her side like a demure, kicked stray. Tom tilts his head as he examines the two newcomers. The redhead… yes… yes, this must be one of the little Weasley girl’s older brothers. Which one, he’d never be able to guess.

The angry girl was currently cursing out Harry, Y/N, Tom, and God, which, Tom found rather egregious; but it was also a bit exciting, seeing someone do something so taboo.

“And you,” Angry Girl whirled around, her index finger pointing straight at Tom.

(Tom was a year older than Angry Girl. He had to be at least a foot and half taller than her. He came from a time of Nazis and economic depressions, for Christ’s sakes. Regardless, Angry Girl absolutely terrified Tom out of his wits.)

“You, you insufferable, good-for-nothing reprobate! You motherfucking scuzzy lowlife snake!”

Tom scrambled backwards on your bed as Angry Girl took a few purposeful steps forward, her finger in his face.

Honestly, her language was appalling. Who was this girl? A street urchin? Certainly not well-mannered, that was for sure.

“You utter pig! Don’t look at me like that! Oh no, I’m speaking right now. Be quiet!”

Tom was at a loss for words. He just stared, wide eyed, mouth agape as this unknown girl cursed him out and damned him to the deepest parts of Hell.

“‘Mione, lay off the poor guy. I think he gets it,” you said dryly, apparently in no concern to rush to Tom’s aid, if the game of… poker? you were currently playing on the floor with Harry and the Weasley boy was anything to go by.

Angry Girl, ‘Mione, as you had called her, stopped talking, but she still looked furious. She whirled around, a single angry look making the Weasley boy and Potter scramble to shove the cards back into their box. You seemed unbothered though, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bored expression.

How the Hell were you not terrified of this girl?

“Oh, no,” ‘‘Mione’ said with a humorless chuckle. “You don’t get to say anything either. I leave you alone for an hour- You told me you were helping Harry clean out his trunk!”

“Well I was!” You defended. “It just so happened that good ol’ Tommy-boy’s diary was in Harry’s trunk. So really, you should be, like, yelling at him, for being so irresponsible as to still have it.”

“Oh, I’ll get to him shortly,” she snapped. “But you, dear brother-”

(Brother? Tom wondered. He could only vaguely see the resemblance, but when you ran your fingers through your short hair and it started to puff up, it finally clicked. Twins.)

“-you resurrected the guy who tried to fucking kill a bunch of eleven and twelve year olds! The same guy who tried to kill Harry as an infant- Jesus fucking Christ, this is why you’re not in Ravenclaw you dumb fuck-”

Tom gaped at her profanity. Not only using the Lord’s entire name, but giving Him a middle name that was a curse? The blaspheme this girl spoke was extraordinary.

‘‘Mione’ ran her hand down her face in exasperation. “There is a collective total of three brain cells in this room…”

“And all of them are yours?” You muttered sardonically.

“…and all of them ar- hey, that’s my line.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and let out a loud exhale, closing her eyes. “Okay. Okay. Oka-”

“If you say ‘okay’ one more time, I’m punching you.”

Mother Mary, this boy was awfully violent. Nearly as bad as his sister.

“Right. Start from the beginning, please,” her tone made it obvious that it was not a request, but a demand. “Oh- Ronald, really. What are you two doing?”

The Weasley boy, Ronald, looked up—as did Harry—at her scathing tone. They were both still sat on the floor, but now had a garishly bright magazine between them and appeared to be solving a crossword together.

“Two bros, chillin’ on the floor, five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay,” you chimed in, with an odd sing-song voice that Tom was baffled by.

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N,” Harry mumbled under his breath, his quill scratching on the magazine’s page and the ink turning green as he scribbled in the correct answer to number ten across.

‘‘Mione’ sat down on the floor next to Ronald, sighing heavily. She snapped her fingers at Tom, pointing at him, then making a sharp motion down towards the floor. “Sit down here, Thomas. You’re not sitting at a higher level than anyone else.”

Tom wordlessly slipped down onto the floor, sitting cross-legged with wide eyes as he scooted as far away from her as possible, which, coincidentally, was right next to you.

‘‘Mione’ seemed caught off guard when she saw Tom’s loaned clothes: green flannel pajama pants, a thick knit sweater with an ‘F’ on it, and fuzzy blue socks with penguins on them.

He was not intimidating in the slightest.

It’s kind of hard to be intimidating fifty years in the future, especially when future you is way scarier that current you.

But Tom digressed.

~~~

“DON’T FUCK WITH ME! I HAVE THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON MY SIDE!”

“We are not quoting Vines when we break into Malfoy Manor, Y/N,” Hermione, as her full name turned out to be, let out a long-suffering sigh.

You pout, your lower lip sticking out.

Tom nearly chokes on his tea when he sees this, his cheeks flaming red as he hurriedly wills away any depraved thoughts.

Don’t look don’t look don’t look don’t look oh dear God don’t loo- don’t take the Lord’s name in vain either Thomas! Oh no oh no no no-

He can almost hear his old headmistress at Wool’s chastising him after boxing his ears.

“You’re a child of God, Thomas Marvolo! Do not speak His name in vain!”

But you know what? Jesus fucking Christ, he hated his Goddamn name.

Tom let himself look up from his tea mug at you, let his gaze fall from your mirthful eyes to your pouting lips.

Oh.

Goddamnit, I’m fucked.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

chapter five

[remember-digimon]

Good ol' reliable Joe!

When I first watched Digimon back in the 2000s, Joe was the character I related to the least. Now, as a big grown up in my late 30s, I finally understand what Joe is all about.

At first glance, Joe is anxiety incarnate. In the dub, he gets the 'nerd' trope that Izzy avoided for the most part. Joe is always allergic to things, worried about the slightest danger, and constantly trying to be the voice of reason. His 'voice of reason' however is more 'voice of general complaints and worry.'

If I recall correctly, in the original Japanese, Joe is like this because he's the oldest, at 12 years old. He feels it's his responsibility to make sure everyone is safe since he's the upperclassmen in this situation. In the dub, he's just a worrywort.

Joe takes on responsibility that he could easily delegate to other kids. In the episode where Gomamon evolves into Ikkakumon, Joe tries to break up an argument between Tai and Matt about climbing a mountain, only managing to get drawn into the argument himself. Later, he decides that he should climb up the mountain on his own as a compromise. He doesn't even bring Gomamon with him; Gomamon tags along anyway, of course, but initially Joe intended to go by himself.

He shows initiative, that's for sure. At least when the pressure is on. Others have noted that Tai, Sora, and Joe are the action-takers while Matt and Izzy act more defensively with Mimi, Tk, and later, Kari in mind. I like this thought, especially for Joe. He is often stumbling into danger out of his need to be the 'adult' of the group, feeling responsible for everyone's safety.

One thing we should discuss is his crest. I want to go more in depth on the crests on a different post, but here I think we need to talk about Joe's crest being changed for the dub. Originally it was the crest of faith.

Honestly, I do think reliability fits Joe a lot better. It is awkward for that to be a trait of a child (Remember, their crests were developed back during the original Digimon Adventure OVA, when Greymon fights Parrotmon). But I do think he exemplifies being reliable, because it's the right thing to do.

Conversely, Joe doesn't really expect others to help him. He wants to be relied on, but doesn't want to rely on others. He saves TK from drowning in the bay without thinking of his own safety.

Joe is also the studious member of the group. At one point, while they're temporarily back in Odaiba, Joe takes a practice test and fails it. This causes him a lot of anxiety. It feeds into the situation at home, which is another point I'll get into shortly.

In Our War Game, Joe is unreachable because he's taking an entrance exam. He's in a panic the whole time, showing how important it is that he does well. No doubt he's one of those cram school kids.

As for his family, we do meet his older brother Jim, but not his parents. In fact, Joe's parents are the only ones we don't meet out of the original 8. We do hear a lot about his dad, though, who has high expectations of his sons. Mr Kido wants both of his sons to be doctors like him, and on his terms, too. Jim says he wants to go to less developed countries to practice medicine, and that their father doesn't approve.

Jim also doesn't seem to have much faith in Joe becoming a doctor due to his high anxiety, and the fact that he faints at the sight of blood. Joe seems apprehensive about it himself, even though he does eventually go into med school and become a doctor.

To me, Joe's story is one of perseverance. When he's working off his debt in the diner, he fully expects to work there until it's paid off and is genuinely surprised that Matt would offer to help. When his test scores fall, he resolves to work harder. Even though he doesn't like the idea much at first he does eventually become a doctor. I can see how the original script would give him the crest of faith with all that in mind, but I still think reliability fits him better. He doesn't just have faith that things will work out, he's proactive in making sure they work out. Even if he's a little clumsy about it.