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diremoone · 6 months

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the door with the floral wreath | r. sukuna

when sukuna gets a new neighbor on the third floor of his apartment complex, he’s pleasantly surprised to see who it is behind the door with the floral wreath. her two cats on the other hand, are a massive fucking problem.

w — honestly nothing? save for fluff and some cussing, slowburn-ish, implied boxer & sorta rich! Sukuna, implied polyglot(ish)! reader, cat! Satoru and cat! Suguru and both cats being in love, cozy themed again (I can’t help it), the formatting of this “fic” was how it was in my brain so I’m sorry if it’s a lil strange haha, this apparently became longer than I originally anticipated lmao, reader is mentioned to be partially Japanese but no physical appearances are ultimately described, mild angst at the end

a/n: not apart of the ‘make me (yours)’ universe but it’s definitely inspired by it

🌸 When Sukuna wakes up on a Saturday morning and opens his front door to leave for his morning run, the last thing he expects to see is a floral wreath on the door opposite of his. That can only mean one thing: someone has moved in. But if someone has, then why hasn’t he seen or heard the furniture being moved in? These aren’t exactly the cheapest apartments, so did they just not have anything?

It was weird, to say the least.

🌸 However, three months pass before he gets to see who the person who’s behind the door across from his.

🌸 Sukuna gets back from his jog a little early, the light sprinkles of rain turning into a downpour. That’s when he sees you leaving your apartment, locking the door to leave. Unfortunately, you’re not paying too much attention to your surroundings, and you two nearly collide into one another at the top of the stairs.

You narrowly turn in time to place yourself flat against the wall to avoid the behemoth of a man that was your neighbor from running over you and sending you both down the stairs.

“I’m sorry,” came your instant apology.

“It’s fine,” follows his gruff reply.

But he knows he certainly wouldn’t mind running into you again. Just not where you two can fall down the stairs and potentially break your necks.

On a random day not too long after your initial run-in (and near subsequent dangerous tumble down some stairs), you two run into one another to get the mail at the front office.

You pop up behind him right after he opens his mailbox, staring up at him and his very impressive height and build and apparently scare him, because when you speak next, his shoulders jump. “Gosh, you’re tall. You must’ve played basketball or something in high school, yeah?”

He would’ve either been silent or retort something in an asshole tone like he was used to. He just didn’t like people.

He would’ve, if it wasn’t his cute neighbor.

“Volleyball,” he replies quietly. “Quit after graduation.”

You frown. “That sucks. You must’ve been good at it.”

“It was a pastime.”

“Sounds fun though,” you chirp, putting your own key into your mailbox. “I tried to get into sports, but uh, lack of things made it hard to do so. Did track for awhile, until my ribs couldn’t keep up.”

Sukuna lets out a snort but says nothing further. He goes to leave, but not before hearing, “G’bye, neighbor!”

Ah, shit. He hadn’t told you his name, had he?

Hopefully, there would be a next time.

🌸 Sukuna doesn’t see you again for another month or two after that, fate still having you two separated like an awful slowburn romance.

🌸 What he doesn’t like in particular is the fact you don’t know his name and he doesn’t know yours. He doesn’t like that; doesn’t like that he’s missed his chance to know you a little better. By his logic, he should know your name, have your phone number, and have at least had you on a date and in his bed at least once already.

🌸 Come early December, he hears your door begin to open and close a lot. It becomes annoying, very very annoying, very very quickly.

That goes on almost until Christmas time.

Until one day he manages to catch the little reasons why your door has been slamming shut so much.

Twerp Number One wriggles in his hold as he holds them both up to eye level. She grunts and huffs at him. “Put me down!”

To which he scoffs at. “And why should I do that?”

Just as Twerp Number Two decides to speak, your door opens. This time it’s you.

“You can let them down,” you say, clearly amused. “They’ve come for cookies.”

Sukuna grunts. “So that’s why they’re always slamming the door.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve tried to get them to stop. They are six, though.” As genuine as your apology is, Sukuna can see the little twinkle of mischievousness appear at the end of your sentence in defense of the two twerps.

“Mr. Sukuna is a big grump anyway!” the oddly-orange-haired girl says. “At least that’s what my mama says.”

“Nobara, you shouldn’t be calling people names,” you scold the girl. “Put them down so they can get some cookies and head back, please. I’m sure Nobara’s mom is wondering about them. Nobara, the white box is for you to take home.”

Sukuna begrudgingly obliges. Nobara and her friend barge inside your home. The door stays open thanks to a cold breeze, allowing for the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and cinnamon rolls to drift outside and into his nose. And damn does it smell nice.

“So, I finally know your name,” you muse.

“Ryomen Sukuna,” he says, half-correcting you, “but everyone just calls me by my first name.”

“I can see why,” you reply in a joking tone and smile. “But yeah… It fits you. I’m [Name], and pretty much the same: everyone calls me by my first name. Since my last name isn’t exactly normal, you know… Since I’m not inherently from Japan.”

Sukuna’s brows raise. “You’ve lived here before?” he asks.

“My mom is [part/full] Japanese,” you admit. And then to his surprise, you ramble on further, “I’ve popped around, uh, a few countries over the last several years of my life, Japan included. I’ve just… never stayed in one place to technically be from somewhere. I was born in the States, but… I don’t, uh, really feel like I actually am from there… Does that make any sense?”

“It does.” But he doesn’t go into his backstory in return. And thankfully, you don’t seem to mind, just about as much as you minded sharing such a part of your life to someone who’s technically nothing more than a stranger to you, not in the slightest.

Nobara pops back out with her friend, who’s just a touch older than her.

“Thank you for the cookies and cimmanom rolls, Miss [Name]!” Nobara says.

You don’t bother to correct her cute mistake. “You’re very welcome, Nobara. Now head home. Goodnight, girls.”

“Goodnight!”

You watch the girls descend, and when they’re out of sight, you listen carefully for the telltale of their first floor door closing. And when it thuds shut loud enough to wake everyone in the apartments in the block, you turn your attention back to the gigantic man that was your next door neighbor… Who’s attention was on your door, more than likely concentrating on the smell in your kitchen.

Your lips curl up and you prevent a giggle. “You want some?”

Your voice snaps him from his stupor. “What? Want what?”

“Some cookies and cimmanom rolls?” you question, cutely reiterating Nobara’s mistake.

“Uh…”

He takes too long to answer, so you decide for him. “I’ll get you some anyway.”

You go back inside, leaving him out in the cold. But you don’t take very long and come back out not even two minutes later with another white box and place it into his hands.

“Well,” you say, teeth chattering from the cold. “It’s nice finally knowing your name, neighbor. Maybe we’ll run into each other again soon… Goodnight.”

He barely gets out a “goodnight” before you close the door. Sukuna tosses his head back and settles for a heavy exhale rather than the audible sigh he knows you would’ve heard through your door.

Another fuck up. But at least he got some food out of it this time.

🌸 You both end up meeting each other a lot more often by “coincidence” after that, like fate has finally determined you’re allowed to see one another or something. (To him that just sounds stupid, until it comes out of your mouth.)

For Christmas, you end up gifting him a tin of popcorn and another box of sweets by leaving them at a front door with a cute handwritten note.

🌸 Gradually, the two of you begin to interact more, and naturally gravitate toward each other’s energy and finally getting to know one another; he’s over at your apartment most of the time, it’s cleaner and smells at lot more nice than his (in his opinion). It’s not that he’s dirty, he’s quite clean actually. It’s just that he prefers your apartment to his.

🌸 You find out that Sukuna is about ten years older than you, and was almost a volleyball player that almost went pro, had it not been for his father’s death. He lost all motivation for the sport, and eventually settled for doing numbers for his father’s company, taking up boxing as a side hobby. To which he was more than good at.

A year ago, he moved into these apartments, getting away from the corporate world had had dived into, opting to do things from home rather than in-person. His prior neighbors never stayed around for too long, not with the amount of noise coming from his apartment in the middle of the night. You’re honestly surprised the person below him hasn’t moved out yet either.

🌸 For Sukuna, he finds out that you almost didn’t get to graduate high school because of how much you’d been moving around. You’d gotten depression from leaving so many friends behind so often that you just made graduation by the skin of your teeth.

Now, you’re online for college, majoring in linguistics, all while working as a translator for a special needs school of Japanese children that are deaf. Through that, he finds out you speak several different languages as well.

God, your personality is just as sweet as the goodies you bake, huh?

🌸 There is one problem, however, when he comes over: your goddamn cats.

🌸 The white Maine Coon is for sure out to get him and make his life miserable, with his attempts at wooing you almost a failed attempt every single time. His name is Satoru, and he’s by far the most obnoxious cat he’s ever fucking met.

Why on Earth you’d give a cat a human name is beyond him. But the again, the fucking cat acts so human it’s disturbing — it almost kind of makes sense.

🌸 Satoru’s claws almost end up in his ass every time he walks through the front door. He can’t even stand openly, but has to stay against a wall or sit on the couch so the cat doesn’t get his claws into his backside. And he can tell that that damn cat has a smug-ass smirk on his face every time. How a cat can smirk, he’s unsure; but he just knows that the look on his face is the one of a smug little shithead that knows he’s gotten away with being a menace. Thankfully, you’re aware of his tendencies and can tell when he’s being more of an asshole than other times and get onto him.

🌸 The black Maine Coon, Suguru, isn’t as terrible, but he opts to creepily stare down at Sukuna from his cat tower rather than be proactive in his distaste. He studies him every second every time he comes over, paying attention to every single detail and movement Sukuna makes with you.

He’ll do things more subtly than his white counterpart, like “accidentally” wave his long, black fluffy tail into his cup of water you gave him. He’s just as much of a menace, although you don’t get onto him as often like the white one, because while you know Satoru is more of an extroverted menace, you just seemingly can’t see that Suguru is just as awful. (Mostly because you don’t actually see it.)

🌸 This goes on for months and months, Satoru scratching the behind of his pants as hard as he can to make it rip and getting white fur all over his clothes, and Suguru glaring down at him from his tower and putting his paws in Sukuna’s food. Although it becomes a little less as often because they’re seemingly growing used to him, as if they’re seeing that he actually makes you happy and finally get the sense that he isn’t just going to break your heart and throw you away.

🌸 And the growing approval of your cats seems to mean a lot to you.

“I picked them up off the streets,” you tell him after he asks about where you got the inseparable pair. “I found them as kittens in a cardboard box three years ago on the streets, drenched and matted in dirt and nasty water.”

You remember the day very clearly. It had just stopped raining, and just as you were about to head home, stopping at the vending machines before heading to your car, you heard animal-like cries of something small and weak. And sure enough, on the other side of the food machine, stuffed away in a tacky, ruined cardboard box, were two, rain-drenched kittens huddled together to keep warm.

That was the day you got two new cats, two new responsibilities. And although times got hard a few times, you’ve never regretted adopting them.

Sukuna gazes up at the two cats on the tower, sitting next to each other in the bed at the top. Their tails are intertwined, heads rubbing at each other’s necks lovingly. He would have never guessed that’s where you found them. From the looks of it, they he would’ve guessed they’d came from a pet store.

“So you’ve raised them since they were kittens,” Sukuna says. “They trust you with their lives. And looks like they love you unconditionally, too.”

“I’d like to think so,” you muse, sipping on your coffee. “Sometimes it doesn’t seem like it with how ornery they are.”

Sukuna keeps his eyes trained on the two cats in love. He’s slightly jealous, and no he’ll never admit it. He just hopes he can have that one day with you.

He just has to stop Satoru from ripping him a new one every time he comes through the door.

🌸 Your cats eventually grow fond of having him over, fond enough that they’re not being the usual mischievous selves when Sukuna puts his arm around your shoulders and tugs you closer to him when you invite him over for movie nights, not trying to bite his fingers off (Satoru) or sit between you both (Suguru).

🌸 After a year passes and you and Sukuna know each other, he finally gets to take you on a proper date after manning up. Although it’s not a restaurant date, since he knows you hate being looked at while eating. It’s a picnic by the ocean, with the weather nothing short of perfect.

🌸 Your attempts to leave your cats at home for said date, however, are fruitless, the pair determined to come with you and your now-boyfriend who declares himself as such after dessert just to piss off the pair of felines. Sukuna plants a big fat smooch on your lips, turning you into a giggly mess.

🌸 They in return, somehow find a stray kitten and plop it in his lap in return. The kitten isn’t as bad off as when you found Satoru and Suguru, but he’s just as scared. He immediately imprints on your oversized boyfriend, who secretly takes an instant liking to the orange-red (honestly a little pink, too) baby cat and becomes a cat dad.

Date not necessarily ruined. But definitely not what he had planned.

🌸 After a week of having, he fondly named the cat a human name — Yuuji, and the fur baby took just as much liking to it as his owner did him. You do have to teach him the ropes and warn your boyfriend that he’d better be ready to have some of his stuff deep-cleaned if Yuuji doesn’t get to the litter box in time.

Satoru and Suguru take to the kitten like two doting parents. And as much as they still kinda dislike your boyfriend taking you from them, they still help train him to use the litter box. (Long story short, they felt bad after seeing you cry after they’d tore up [and peed] all over your third couch and quit being as ornery as they used to be.)

A few months had passed since Sukuna got Yuuji plopped into his lap, since you two had become a couple. It was always amusing seeing your big boyfriend playing with such a small cat. Honestly, the cat looked like he was part tiger.

You feel overwhelmed with contentment. You have a good job, a wonderful boyfriend (who’s apparently secretly rich) who loves to give you kisses, and two cats who love you. You have enough now, so why was the universe trying to take that from you?

You don’t know how your ex got your number, but what you do know is that you have to tell Sukuna. No later than tomorrow.

You exhale. You can’t think about it. You’ll tell him. You’ll tell him tomorrow that your dyed blonde-haired ex wants to see you again. You’re hopefully of one thing though: that the moment your boyfriend meets your ex, you hope Sukuna has enough restraint to not beat the shit out of him.

“Baby, you okay?”

Sukuna’s brows are raised. One would miss the concern on his face if they didn’t know him as well as you do.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m good.” Woman up, girl, you tell yourself. “I do have something to tell you later. Just… remind me before dinner.”

The concern becomes more evident on his face, which prompts you to walk to him and kiss him.

“It’s nothing serious… I don’t think. Don’t worry,” you reassure him, partially reassuring yourself. “What we should worry about is what’s for dinner,” you joke. “Don’t think I can eat those leftovers.”

“Goddamn, I’m sorry I put too much salt in it.”

You laugh, wanting this happiness to ever be trampled on. You’ll do what you can to protect and keep it.

taglist:

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna fluff #sukuna fic #jjk sukuna #modern! sukuna #modern au

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confused-wanderer · 11 months

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Batman and superman are their opposite personalities in civilian form.

.. so this gives us a perfect opportunity for the most disastrously chaotic dynamic (and love square) EVER.

ESPECIALLY if they don’t know the others true identities, or even they did and are just being lil shits anyways

Give me:

grumpy skeptical Clark to Bruce’s sunshine playboy persona.

Clark *trying to down as many aspirins as he can, half tempted to throw himself into the sun* : Bruce we needed to surround the enemy, not SEDUCE them!

Bruce *currently on his way to a dinner wearing the most seductive outfit known to man* : Well, you know the saying. We can’t gatekeep or manslaughter our way out of it. Girlboss it is.

Clark: Bruce you are going on a date with a STRAIGHT MAN

Bruce: Give me five minutes and then I’ll let you hear him scream my name

*horrified Clark noises*

==================================

Brooding and detective Batman meeting lie-detector and very effective investigator journalist Clark Kent

Batman: Tell me where the bombs are Riddler!

Riddler *currently tied up* : Hehe you’ll never find them~

Clark: Mind if I record this session Mr. Riddler?

Batman:

Riddler:

Clark:

Riddler: Who the hell-

Batman: .. Kent. How’d you even get here?

Clark: Irrelevant questions. *waves recorder* so..?

Riddler: Sure..tell the public I’m going to paint the walls red-

Clark *in investigative journalist mode* : So which devastating rock bottom led you to lose your mind and pursue this as a career?

Riddler:

Riddler: hey wait hang on this is a fulfilling career!

Clark *raising a judgemental eyebrow*: So.. you fighting a man dressed as a bat, with that atrocious outfit you must’ve gotten from hell and riddles that you’ll give him the answer to anyway.. this is fulfilling?

Riddler *voice breaking* : .. yes?

*questioning and judgemental silence*

Few hours later

Red Robin: .. why is Riddler crying and why does he also have a career counselling book in his hand?

Batman *just as surprised and kind of disturbed at how methodical and impressive Clark was in breaking down Riddlers plan based on evidence and connecting the dots* : Honestly I thought he was here for me and he started ignoring me so out of concern for his safety I demanded he paid attention

Red robin: And?

Batman: and he said “oh you don’t want me to pay attention to you” and showed me.. a lot of details and screenshots I don’t know how he got his hands on

Red robin:

Batman: Riddler also then attempted to escape and Clark just.. punched him so hard Riddler still doesn’t know which universe he’s in..

Red robin: well it could’ve been worse.. Clark could’ve pulled out a gun

Batman: .. he has a flamethrower

Red Robin: IM SORRY WHAT

Batman: .. and he told me we should work together sometimes, and I gave him few crime stories and plots to help raise awareness for the public and stop them.

Red robin:

Batman: also he gave me a therapy card.

=========

Give me ray of sunshine and leader Superman with no sense of self preservation Bruce Wayne

Superman: Good evening Mr. Wayne, there’s a credible threat against you so I’ll be on the lookout for today-

Bruce *sidling upto him* : .. damn.. when I said send your hottest stripper you did deliver..

Superman *beet red* : Im not the stripper sir!

Bruce: Really?

Superman *furious nodding*

Bruce: okay then.. hey listen, I’ve been learning about important dates in history lately.. do you wanna be one of them?

Superman. Exe has stopped functioning

Later

Superman: Mr. Wayne there’s a blackout and the building is under attack! Evacuate!

Bruce *running with gunshots behind* : Are you outside? You’re invulnerable right? Nothing can hurt you? Not even gunpowder or explosives?!

Superman *touched and pleasantly surprised* : yes.. so you don’t have to worry about me Mr. Wayn-

*glass breaks and Superman catches the dark mass falling in the air*

Superman: See? You’re safe-

*realises he’s holding a huge bomb about to detonate*

One explosion later

Superman: … you threw a bomb at me

Bruce: What?? You said you were invulnerable! I didn’t know what else to do with it??

Superman: So you didn’t think to tell me? Not even a warning?

Bruce: Listen that bomb was hot but compared to how smoking hot you were I didn’t think it ever stood a change

Superman: Mr. Wayne, listen. You should’ve atleast yelled or said something so I could’ve gotten it away in time. What if I hadn’t?

Bruce: I did! I yelled GET READY FOR A BLOWJOB

Superman:

Bruce:

Superman:

Bruce: ?? Did I do something wrong?

========

And obviously.. the usual golden retriever Superman x black cat Batman that we all know and love so I’m just going to leave it at:

Batman: Someone is going to die.

Superman: Of fun!

Batman: Sure if you consider burning to death fun

Superman:

Superman: Oh come on be a little optimistic! We must have hope! We will persevere!

Batman: we are literally being held hostages by aliens

Superman: ..listen okay, let me do the talking. We just gotta de-escalate the situation

Alien: You intruders! You will never get our superior defender systems-

Batman *done with this bullshit* : I already hacked into it twenty days ago and found all of your identities, families and now have full control over your systems of defends and weapons. If I wanted to hurt somebody.. I would’ve done so already.

Alien *tries to punch him, gets headbutted instead*

Alien *chuckles* : You have a thick skull Batman..

Batman:

Superman *frantic whispering*: Dontsayitdontsayitdontsayitdontsayit-

Batman: .. atleast mines protecting a brain. Wish I could say the same for yours

Superman *heavy sigh*

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bunny-lily · 5 days

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Tether Me - Chapter 4

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader

Summary: Sweet, cold, saintly watermelon spread over your tongue and you ascended, tilting your head back as you nursed the popsicle like it was the ambrosia of the gods themselves.

Satoru skewed over and dropped his head on your shoulder, making you lour at him. You very much did not need someone else’s muggy body heat worsening the already unbearably humid air.

“Fan me,” he demanded, and you poked his cheek with your popsicle, leaving a sticky spot behind.

“Fan yourself,” you rejected.

Suguru chuckled to himself. “You’ll get used to it and learn how to manage.”

“Speak for yourself,” the man using your side as a bed snarked. “Been here my whole life and I still feel like I’m dying.” CW: No y/n | polyamory | slow burn | slice of life | alt au - no curses | fluff | light angst | eventual smut | forgive me, there's internal monologues | I like using big words... | Gojo & Geto are whipped for you | emotionally constipated reader | (most of the tags have been condensed, you can find the full list on my ao3 here) AN: arachnophobes beware, there is a spider in this one (it’s fairly early into the chap tho) (also v tiny boi, not even really described). Summer has arrived! No other notes for this one, lovelies ♥ except some more second-hand embarrassment. A bit more Suguru focused in this one ♥ Ch: Prologue | Ch: 1 | Ch: 2 | Ch: 3 | Ch: 4 WC: 14k

“Has this house really been abandoned for only 20 years?” You grunted as you forced a scraper under a crumpled section of a newspaper that might as well have been glued to the ground on purpose. Your arms trembled from the strain, knuckles drained of blood, your hands fighting for their lives to finally free the paper of its wooden prison.

With a shallow yelp from you, the scraper came loose, only taking a quarter of the browned paper with it. The section ripped partially through the head of a baseball player, giving him a rather unfortunate face lift.

“That’s what everyone says,” Suguru confirmed as he worked on scrubbing a chunk of the floor like he was trying to avenge someone. His nose wrinkled in disgust when he lifted the rag and observed the dark grime stuck to it. “I asked my gran, she said that she can’t remember the family’s name, something starting on ‘Fu’. Father, mother, and their son. The mother was diagnosed with some sort of illness that the village doctor couldn’t manage, so they had to go to the city.”

“Oh,” you frowned as you sat back on your heels. “Did she survive?”

He shrugged, dipping the rag into the bucket of once clean water beside him. “No idea. They weren’t super close with any of the villagers here, so there weren’t any updates after they left. I assume she didn’t, since they never returned here.”

“That’s sad,” you spoke low as you tossed the piece of ew away in the bag beside you. “I hope they’re okay, one way or another.”

The two of you worked together in the living room, peeling useless bits of goo and gunk to clean the house inch by inch. You'd already finished with the first pass of the kitchen, hallway, and master bedroom. After getting the go-ahead from Uncle Han a bit ago (you felt weird calling him that, but he insisted), you decided to start indoors to spare yourselves from the ever rising sun. With summer approaching, the lawn had been dealt with promptly, the three of you moving through it surprisingly speedily with teamwork.

Satoru, for all his rich boy credit, was actually helping. You were honestly expecting him to maybe work for five minutes, then laze around and whine about being bored, but you were pleasantly surprised by his productivity.

For one, he’d been gathering various architecture and designer house catalogues; stuff that was in, stuff that was out, and everything in between. Whatever might strike your fancy, he was there to offer his input, whether asked or not. You could tell he was having fun showing off expensive house designs, even if it was way too early to be looking at paint colors and matching furniture. He was acting like it was his house that was getting renovated.

He was also helpful with the physical labor portion of fixing this mess up, putting those beefy biceps to good use. He’d done some wondrous work in the kitchen.

That’s not to say he didn’t whine about boredom and hardship and whatnot, but at least he was working while doing so.

Presently, he was in the smaller room opposite to the master bedroom, addressing the tatami issue. Said issue being that the material was practically cemented to the floor below, strangely crunchy for being stiff as a brick, and very much showing its age.

He was experimenting with various methods for prying it off, at his own assertion. It gave him the opportunity to lean into that primal urge to break shit, and who were you to take that away from him?

Every few minutes, you’d hear a muted thud, some strangled noises, and a delightful little swear here and there. You’d learned that he quite hated tatami as a kid, annoyed that he had to be careful with it. He was grumpy that he couldn’t run about and stomp his feet like the spoiled child he was because it’d get damaged, then his folks would get mad. Now, he had the perfect excuse to take all that pent up anger out on some actual tatami.

“You think he’s having fun in there?” You asked as you lifted off another slice of the paper, turning it around in the tight pinch you held it in. Most of the words had faded off or bled from whatever liquid got onto it years prior. You could barely make out a cut-off phrase that made you snort. Left fielder is short!

Suguru sneered at the floor. “I sure hope not.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not having fun, so he doesn’t get to have fun, either.”

You rubbed your cheek against your shoulder, fighting the desire to scratch at the itch with your grubby, dirty hands. “Are boys always at each other’s throats like this?”

“Yes,” he answered bluntly, earning a half-laugh, half-cough from you.

You smiled apologetically at him. “I’m sorry. You really don’t have to do this.”

He shook his head as he got up, stripping off his yellow rubber gloves. “I’m not going to back out now after saying I’d help you. I’m gonna keep my word to you. But, I will go grab a drink and think about my life choices outside for a few minutes.”

You breathed out through your nose and waved lazily at him as he stepped out of the open front door, disappearing behind the wall. It was his idea to bring some options for hydration with him, and you lauded him as a genius for it. Even if a quarter of the options were cheap beer.

Deciding you earned yourself a break, too, you tossed whatever else you managed to free from the floor away, along with your gloves, and got up, shaking out your numb legs with a wince. Ow.

Sure, you’d done next to nothing compared to Suguru, but, oh, your back and arms felt so sore. Poor you. He could forgive you, couldn’t he?

Figuring you should check on Satoru, you trod down the hallway and stopped in the open doorway of the room he was occupying. He was turned halfway towards you, hunched over as he scratched aggressively at the floor with something you could only tell was made of metal. Sweat stuck to his forehead in a thick layer, droplets beading and running down his temples and the curve of his jaw. White hairs were plastered to his cheeks and brow, pale lashes clumped together, lips pulled into a wide grin.

A shiver dashed up your spine.

He looked positively feral.

You should probably leave him be, you didn’t want to get caught in his crossfire, lest you end up the target of his destructive goal.

You began to creep away, easing off the doorframe, hoping to avoid–

“Mochi!”

Damnit.

“Heyyy, buddy,” you greeted cautiously, meeting his gaze. His winter blues were alight with an untamed sort of fervor, sunglasses folded into the collar of his button-up. Had the moisture on the small of your back always been there? “How’s it goin’ in here?”

“It’s fuckin’ stubborn, but look!” He waved frantically to a boxy pile of…something. Vaguely tan and clumpy and gross. Listen, you weren’t very peeved out by nasty stuff as a kid, but even child you wouldn’t dare touch it.

Gojo, meanwhile, looked ecstatic, seemingly having figured out a method that worked. More or less.

The corners of your lips twitched upwards into a watery smile. Mainly because you were afraid that he’d pounce on you with that brutish glint in his intense stare if you didn’t show the appropriate amount of enthusiasm for his hard work.

“Wow!” You exclaimed, a smidge stiffly. “You’re doing a great job!”

Satoru ate that shit up. He glowed, preening under your praise, even if it felt like you were talking to a six-year-old kiddo wielding a hammer.

“I know!” He cheered. “This is fun!”

You questioned how long that zeal would last. You also debated whether or not you should tell Suguru that the maniac was having fun. You were curious to see what would happen, but you didn’t want to get dragged into the potential brawl they’d have.

The boy in front of you was panting, the collar of his shirt dampened by the droplets of effort he wiped off with it, and the temperature outside was rapidly rising. As hot as this image was, minus the eugh-factor of your house, you weren’t keen on him dying of exhaustion and leaving you short one extra pair of hands.

How noble of you.

“Wanna come take a break with me and Suguru?” You asked.

He glanced at where he paused his work, back to you, the floor, then you one more time before nodding. “Yeaaah, I did a lot, I deserve a lil’ break.”

He groaned as he pushed on his knees and rose up, absently dusting the front of his pants. You rolled your eyes at his show of theatrics, what with him stretching and whining. Not like you were any better, though.

“C’mon, you big baby,” you stepped out of the doorway, rotating to make your way down the hall.

That was, until you noticed something on the wall beside you. A black dot, or speck you hadn't seen before. A stain, perhaps; a blotch, something dark stuck to the old paint. You could've gotten it dirty(ier) while you were cleaning at some point. You leaned closer to try and decipher it, squinting–

Legs.

Not two, four, or six. Eight legs.

With a gagged gasp, you screeched and immediately booked it out of the house, adrenaline pumping through your system at mach speed. You nearly slipped as you banked the corner, your sights set on the open front door.

The blinding white of day was burning into your retinas, but you couldn’t care, you needed to get the hell out!

Instinctively, you threw yourself into a surprised Suguru’s arms the moment you stepped past the threshold as he peeked into the house, concerned by the commotion. He stumbled back a few steps, eyes wide, then released a humorous chuckle as his arms wrapped protectively around you. Sturdy, strong, safe.

“There, there,” he soothed, stroking a hand up and down your back, fingertips pressing into pressure points along your vertebrae. It was easy enough for him to figure out what got you so panicked. “You’re alright, it’s just a spider. I’ll get rid of it for you.”

“Oh, my god!” You squealed and shook like a leaf, air whistling past your larynx. “Suguru! It’s giant!”

He cooed sweetly at you, obviously entertained by your frazzled state. “It won’t hurt you, you’re fine.”

“I am not fine!”

His laugh rumbled low in his chest, right under your ear as you squeezed the life out of him. “I can’t remove it for you if you don’t let me go, angel.”

You bared your teeth at him. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

Suguru opened his mouth to respond, only to get preemptively cut off by a girlish scream originating from within the house. Seconds later, Satoru was dashing out, colliding directly with you and Suguru. A mix of stifled noises of shock erupted, and all three of you toppled right over onto the hard-packed soil.

Suguru’s arms encased more firmly around your form when Satoru tackled you, one thick arm coming to cradle the back of your head while the other constricted your waist until you were pressed immovably to his front. He pillowed your fall, even though it meant taking the brunt force of the ground’s swift ascent by himself. Satoru collapsed on top of you, leaving you sandwiched between the pair.

This was not how you imagined you’d experience your first yukadon.

Cheek pillowed by a rigid tit. Spine crushed by a dense body. Lungs utterly squashed. Lavender, cypress, and musk overwhelming your olfactory senses. Super sexy.

“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru?” Suguru hissed out, voice strained with pain, compression, and thinly-veiled anger.

“It’s fuckin’ huge, Suguru!” Satoru shrieked back. “Massive! Like, a meter long!”

Amber eyes glared over your head, still clutched to his pec. “Get the hell off, you’re crushing her. And me. You’re heavy as fuck.”

Gojo lifted himself up enough to peer at you, blinked, then laid right back down on top of you. Your wheeze of suffering did nothing to deter him. “But this is so comfy.”

“I will castrate you,” your personal airbag threatened.

Cyan eyes filled with spite as he finally rolled off of you and to the side, allowing Geto to loosen his hold until you could breathe freely. While Satoru was busy grumbling to himself and looking for his glasses, the pair having been flung off in the clamor, Suguru gazed down at you with worry pooled in his softened hues.

“You okay?” He asked.

You wiggled your toes and fingers, then nodded. “Thanks to you. I should be asking you that.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he put away your disquiet with a smile.

You frowned at his attempt at paying no heed to the subject. “That was a pretty bad fall.”

He snorted. “I work on a farm and grew up with Satoru. I’d hardly consider that a fall.”

“Oi!” Speak of the devil. The snow-haired boy had located his glasses, it seemed, as they were resting on the bridge of his nose, free of dirt and dust by some miracle. “Get up already, lovebirds.”

Fire exploded across your cheeks and the tips of your ears as you realized the position you were in – straddling your friend’s waist, chest-to-chest, his strong arms enclosing you to keep you close.

You yelped and scrambled out of his hold, keenly aware that you were only able to leap off of him and stagger away because he let you do so. He was laughing breathlessly as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, endeared by your embarrassed reaction. He grabbed the hand his best friend offered him, their palms clapping as he got tugged onto his feet.

Meanwhile, you were fanning your face in a hopeless attempt to cool the steam lifting from your head, swearing up and down that it was the budding summer heat and not because you got stacked like pancakes by two unreasonably attractive men.

Yeah, that’s what it was.

The sun.

The literal sun, not the sun incarnated in the form of a man that was currently busy brushing off his pants, aided by Satoru clearing his back of debris.

Thank the gods you had tossed the murderous stepping stones off to one corner of the house just a few days prior. You did not want to think about what would have happened to Suguru’s pretty body if you hadn’t.

“You sure you’re okay?” The above-mentioned man with said pretty body called out to you.

You startled in place and cried out the first thing that came to mind. “You’re hot!” Fuck. “I-I mean, it’s– it’s hot! Outside! Right now! We should, uh, stop here for the day!”

Good save.

Dumbass.

You would have smacked your own head with a brick if it wouldn’t attract their attention and make them think you were crazy. Or worse. Turned on.

Suguru and Satoru shared a glance, exchanging in a silent conversation, then Satoru was walking over to the bag of snacks the former brought along, digging around it for a can of soda. He retrieved a separate can of light booze for the other boy, passing it along as they both shortened the distance between you.

“You sure you wanna call it for the day?” Geto asked, his drink opening with an acute crack and tss, shortly followed by Gojo’s. Thank God they seemed to worn to tease you for your slip up.

Breathing deeply to settle your nerves, you dipped your head twice. “Yeah, it’s starting to get too hot for me.”

For too many damn reasons.

He hummed, sipping his drink as he peered at the chalk-haired boy, who took a sizable gulp in comparison. “Fine by me,” he ground out past the tingle of carbonation, fingers threading through damp, white tresses. “I don’t wanna die of heatstroke.”

“How about we head to the park, then?” Suguru suggested as he stepped away to shut the front door, like that’d prevent intruders or something. The extra security was unneeded, the house itself was enough of a deterrent. “We can stop at Granny’s on the way.”

“Sure,” you assented rather easily. You liked the park. Sitting in the shade, surrounded by the sweet fragrance of the flora there, sounded like a wonderful idea.

Satoru was not as keen. “In this heat? No way.”

His best friend patted his shoulder, gulping down a swig of his drink before responding. “You gotta touch grass at least once in a while, dude. C’mon, it won’t be so bad.”

“Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

“You’re not gonna die, don’t be a drama queen,” he said pragmatically.

You simpered to yourself as you went to grab Suguru’s backpack, zipping it up to keep everything inside. The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself more by spilling everything. You grabbed one of the straps, ready to hoist it over your shoulder, just for a big hand to grab it by the top handle and tug it out of your palms.

You didn’t even get a second to prepare to fight for it, the coarse material easily slipping from your grip in a pathetic display of weakness. Your guard wasn’t up. You never stand a chance.

Your head snapped up to find Geto himself, his bag resting against his back as he held it by that same handle, fingers half-closed near his shoulder. He gave you a charming grin, eyes squinted from the squish of his cheeks.

“Hey!” You gaped, hopping up to your feet. “I can carry it, I’m not helpless!”

The hell you aren’t.

He tipped his head back to finish off his drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing and causing more sweat to form on your brow, then tucked the empty can into his pocket to properly toss out later. “You aren’t,” he agreed, ruffling your hair affectionately with his now free hand, “but what kind of gentleman would I be if I let the lovely lady do all the work?”

All the work? You barely did any work. But, you did like being called lovely, so you supposed you could let it go this once.

Satoru scoffed. “Gentleman? You watched Shoko lug a heavy ass box of shit up two flights of stairs just last week. Hardly call that gentlemanly.”

“You think I’m going anywhere near Shoko and her medical supplies?” Honey-toned irises shifted from you to him. “Hell no. She’d have my head on a pike if I even got close to them.”

“You won’t hold the door open for Utahime,” he accused.

“I’ve held the door for her before. The only person I wouldn’t hold the door for is you, Satoru,” Suguru’s hand drifted to rest below the nape of your neck, scorching the exposed skin there.

He pressed lightly, urging you to start walking with them in the direction of town.

The 6’3” child moped, his eyes drooping. “My own best friend hates me. Practically my brother, and he wants me to die.”

Geto rolled his eyes and bent down to stage-whisper to you. “Drama queen.”

“I heard that!” Satoru exclaimed.

“That was the point.”

You sighed with levity, shaking your head. “Could you two at least try to not kill each other until we get to Granny’s?”

“No promises,” they both responded in unison.

They bickered back and forth over your head, one using you as a shield while the other used you as an excuse to ‘behave’. Not that it stopped either of them from hurling immature threats and insults, each one making you think about how a butterfly felt more scary than either of them.

Or, your presence was taming them after all, and they were more vicious when they didn’t have someone standing guard. What would happen if you were on the other side of one of them? Would the result be the same?

Since when were you into psychology?

“Oi,” a finger jabbed into your cheek, bringing you back to the present, where your trio was crossing over the bridge. “Don’t zone out. Pay attention to me.”

You sent the offending boy a sidelong glance, meeting his intensely cobalt, insisting stare, yet he reveled in it all the same. Attention was attention.

“I’m not zoning out,” liar, “I’m just thinking.”

“About what? About us?” He teased, poking your cheek again.

He squawked and jumped back when you bluffed a strike at him, your teeth snapping dangerously close to his finger.

“Not like that!” He hissed, nursing his finger to his chest. He went as far as pressing the digit against the likely lukewarm can of soda he still had, exaggerating his obvious injury. You know, the one that didn’t exist.

Suguru barked out a laugh. “Like I said; drama queen.”

Satoru harrumphed, mumbling incoherent grievances as he pressed the rim of his drink to his lips, presumably to ‘politely’ muffle his quips with sips of carbonation.

You wanted to bully him a little more, ribbing him when you had the high ground was too much fun.

Geto would probably have more material for you to work with.

“Hey, Suguwu, do you–” you abruptly cut yourself off and slapped a hand over your mouth.

So much for high ground.

Satoru snorted his soda out through his nose and yowled, crying out in pain between guffaws as he clutched his hand over his lips in a hopeless attempt to catch any spare liquid.

Suguru raised a brow at you, a bemused smile spreading lazily across his face, turning his eyes into mirthful, mischievous crescents. “Pardon?”

Your entire face glowing a deep shade of vermillion. “I– can we just pretend–”

“Suguwu!” Gojo wheezed, arms coiling around his stomach, free hand grasping the side of his shirt for dear life. “Y’hear that, Suguwu? Think the lady has something to say, Suguwu. Hah!”

“Don't tease her so much, Satoru. I think it's cute,” he said, adjusting his backpack to hang on his back by one strap.

“Can you, please, just let me die now,” you grumbled, hiding your face with your hand placed flat along the side. You felt like you pulled the pin on a flashbang but forgot to throw it.

Gojo wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm, coughing out whatever liquid had gotten caught down the wrong pipe. You could hear him crooning at you, but you were trying desperately to focus on your destination as it came into view, hoping and praying that Granny would save you.

Or someone, anyone, else.

“Hello!”

Prayers answered! For once!

Your head perked up at the sound of a familiar voice as you approached the store, and you were immensely grateful for the divine timing of your arrival. Candied reprieve kissed your skin, easing your humiliation right away.

“Iori-san!” You called back, returning the wave she sent you in greeting. Spotting a head of brunette hair next to her, you shifted your attention to her companion, lighting up further with both relief and joy. “Oh, hey–”

“Aha!” Satoru jogged forward and spun around, throwing his arm around a less-than-amused Shoko’s shoulders. “This is Ieiri Shoko, she’s the doctor I warn– told you about!”

“Ah, we already met,” you grinned at Shoko, who gave you a ‘can you believe this shit?’ look.

“Wait, what?” He blinked at you. “Really?”

You nodded in confirmation. “Yeah. She called you an idiot.”

Suguru snorted into his palm, briskly facing away to poorly conceal his swallowed back laughter.

Satoru balked, blinking between you and your mutual friend when she shoved his arm off her. “When was this?”

“Uh…” You pressed your curved index against your chin, calculating. “Same day you and I met, actually.”

He looked completely aghast, utterly betrayed. “Wh– that was ages ago! Why didn’t you tell me!?”

You lifted and dropped your shoulders, grinning sheepishly. “Didn’t cross my mind?”

Deflating with a wispy wheeze that imitated a sad balloon, he pouted and turned his back on the entire group. “Can’t trust anyone around here. Keepin’ secrets, callin’ me a drama queen and an idiot.

Shoko rolled her eyes. “You are a drama queen and an idiot, Satoru,” she grunted and shook her head, then shot a relaxed smile your way. “Thanks for the macarons, by the way. They were delicious.”

“Yeah!” Utahime bobbed her head. “You’re an amazing baker.”

You scratched your neck with one hand and patted Satoru’s back with the other to comfort him. “I actually only know how to make macarons.”

Utahime shuffled closer to you, mouth parted with disbelief. “What? No way! I bet you’d make a great baker! Nothing like that idiot over there,” the bridge of her nose wrinkled with distaste as she sent the whining baby a scathing side-eye.

“I told you she bullies me!” He was looking your way in an instant. “It’s her fault I’m like this! How is any of this fair?”

“She’s older than you, so she gets to bully you,” Shoko stated. “Sibling rules.”

“We are not siblings!” Utahime shouted, nose and forehead flushed red with anger. “Shoko! How could you say that!”

Satoru took that statement and ran. “By that logic, I get to bully Suguru!”

“You already do,” Geto responded.

You blinked, and found a face unexpectedly very close to yours. “What about you, huh?” Ocean blues pierced into the depths of your soul. “You bully me a lot, too. Does that mean you’re older than me– agh!”

He clutched the back of his head where Iori had landed an expert hit, delivered with a precision mastered only after years of training. “Jerk! Don’t you know not to ask a woman her age!?”

“Why is everyone abusing me today? What did I do to any of you, huh?” He sniffled, bottom lip jutting out as he pinned his watery, puppy-dog eyes on you.

Okay, now you were starting to feel bad. Letting go of a shallow, defeated exhale, you opened your arms to him.

His expression changed to glee faster than you could realize, and within seconds, you were being crushed against his chest. You didn’t give consideration to how strong he was, woefully unaware that his forearms alone could exert enough pressure on your limbs to make a few joints pop.

“Yippee! I knew someone cared about me!” He stuck his tongue out at everyone else, then nuzzled himself deep into the crook of your neck.

Too hot, too hot, too hot!

“Yeah, yeah,” you hacked out, patting his back. “You can let me go, now.”

“No way,” he refused, breath tickling your collarbone. “This is the least I deserve.”

Shoko was in your peripheral, a wicked smirk on her lips as she stuck a cigarette between them. You mouthed help me to her, and gaped when she pretended to get distracted and miss your S.O.S. request.

Screw Shoko, Utahime was your favorite person now. She was by you in a snap, prying the arms of steel keeping you caged off of you. Her strength was impressive, especially given that Satoru was actively fighting her on it. There was a hand on your shoulder, coaxing you to duck down under their arms, and dash into the safe haven that was Granny’s shop.

Sweet, sweet AC.

You visibly shuddered as a blast of arctic air hit you. Heaven was in all the things easily taken for granted.

The chime of the bell summoned the old lady out of thin air – or it might have been her ‘you’ senses, she had a keen perception for when you’d be coming.

“Oh, hello!” She welcomed you warmly, wholly ignoring the second person with you as she scurried across the floor to reach you.

Granny grasped you by the shoulders and pulled you close, pressing a couple wet, loud kisses on your cheeks, right in front of your ears, making your eardrums pop. Your theory that the sound of kisses grew louder with age was gaining credence.

“How are you feeling, dear? You aren’t working too hard, are you?” She planted the back of her hand against your forehead, steamrolling right along and not giving you a chance to respond. “Oh, my, you’re so warm! Are you feeling feverish? Sick? I’m telling you, you should leave that house to the men who are used to working in those conditions.”

“Granny–”

“Sit, sit, let me get you some water,” she nudged you towards the familiar stool you’d taken respite on many times now, ready to zip away to retrieve that promised glass of water.

“Hey, Granny,” Suguru interrupted that plan by raising a hand in greeting, only to be subsequently pummeled by an angered grandmother. “Ow–”

“Some man you are, letting a lady get ill!” She shamed him.

You immediately hopped up, bolting to his rescue. “Granny! Granny, I’m not sick, it’s okay! It’s just hot outside today.”

She stopped her volley of attacks on the poor, innocent man to take in your appearance. She lifted your arms, eyeing down your figure carefully, then hmphed.

“My apologies, darling,” she reached up to pinch Suguru’s cheek, which somehow looked more painful than the fairly weak smacks she delivered earlier. She was easily able to tug him down to be eye-to-eye with her. “But you have been taking care of her, haven’t you?”

Still, he put on a smile and nodded. “Of course, I have been.”

She smiled broadly at him and released his cheek, patting it gently twice. “My, what a good boy you are. But, if I hear you’ve been mistreating her, I won’t hesitate to beat you with my geta and bury you beside that fish of yours.”

Suguru grimaced as he rubbed the tender spot she had pinched, rising back up to his full height. “Ouch, Granny. Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”

You planted your hands on your hips, eye twitching with irritation. “I’m right here. And, I can take care of myself, you know?”

“I carry extra bottles of water because you always underestimate how thirsty you get,” he fired back. “You sweat it out faster than you think you do.”

You coughed into your fist. That was fucking embarrassing. Now you were worried you had a sweating problem. “Maybe I’m a little forgetful, but it’s not that bad.”

This time, Granny was on your ass. “You need to take better care of yourself!”

“Granny–”

“What if you didn’t have such a dependable, strong, young man to take care of you?” She tutted in disappointment. “What about when your husband is away at work?” – HUSBAND!? – “Will you forget to drink water then, too?”

You half-inhaled your spit, looking up towards Suguru for help in getting out of your pseudo-grandmother’s scolding–

You almost questioned if you were imagining the flashing dots outlining him – or, rather, where he used to be. A quick twist of your head proved he had already sauntered off somewhere towards the back of the store, if the thump of a fridge door was anything to go by.

“Are you listening to me, young lady?” Holy shit, for being an older woman, her pinches hurt.

“Ai– yes, I’m listening,” you assured her, wincing. Looks like you had no savior to get you out of this one. There was some muffled yelling outside the glass pane behind you, implying that the three that didn’t come in were too busy squabbling to see you getting reprimanded.

Though, knowing Satoru, he’d just use this as ammunition against you.

She jiggled your cheek. “Very good. You’re a beautiful woman, you need to take care of yourself. Lots of water, avoid direct sunlight, make sure you eat well, all that. Understood?”

“Understood,” you assented.

That good-natured smile of hers was back, and you were pulled into yet another hug. “D’aw, I can’t stay mad at you, you’re too sweet. Don’t go letting anyone take advantage of that.”

There was only so much of the embrace you could return when your arms were pinned to your sides by your unnaturally brawny kinda-grandma, leaving you to awkwardly prop your chin on her shoulder. “I know, Granny.”

That was a lesson you learned a long time ago.

You observed Suguru as he walked between the aisles while he grabbed some stuff, his head sticking out high above the shelves. When he emerged back out at the front, you were seated on the stool that basically belonged to you at this point. He carefully set his gathered spoils on the counter next to the cash register, then slipped past you to go behind the counter.

His hand briefly rubbed your knee, something you noticed he did from time to time. While he wasn’t nearly as touchy as Satoru, who didn’t know the definition of personal space, he did often give you comforting nudges like that.

You noted with curiosity how familiar he seemed with ringing up his products by himself, working swiftly to tally them. Based on Granny’s lack of reaction when she returned with a mug, she trusted him to pay properly.

Smooth ceramic was placed within your palms, and you brought it up to guzzle down the life-saving liquid within. Damn, Suguru was right, you had no idea how thirsty you were. In terms of hydration, anyway. You were painfully aware of your other shortcomings.

“How’s that house of yours coming along?” She asked, resting a weathered hand on your upper thigh.

You hummed past a gulp, then answered. “Good, I think. We’re still washing the floors, but we’ve already cleaned up a lot. Satoru’s been dealing with the tatami in one of the rooms. It’s been stubborn as hell so far.”

“Try soaking it for a while beforehand,” she suggested. “And ventilate well. Goodness knows what’s been in there.”

Comforting. “We have been, don’t worry. Suguru managed to get all the windows open, which has been a huge relief.”

The elder leaned in close to you, ‘whispering’ in what could have only been a singular decibel quieter than normal talking. “See? Reliable, strong man. He’d take good care of you, I’ve known him since he was a child. Very dependable.”

Wha–

Was she trying to set you up with him!?

You glared at him when you heard him laughing under his breath, having heard her suggestion. It’d be more shocking if he didn’t.

Instead of coming to dispel her wild offer, he stuffed his goods away into a bag and walked towards the exit. You got up to follow after hastily finishing your drink and letting her take the empty mug from you, fully intending to give them both a piece of your mind the next chance you got. “Thank you for the water, Granny. We’ll head out, now.”

“I left some extra cash for you, Granny,” Suguru said as he held the door open for you. “From my mom, paying you back.”

She clicked her tongue. “I told her not to worry about it. Be safe, you two. Suguru, tell your mother to sleep with one eye open.”

“Will do,” he agreed too easily for such a casual threat, pushing you out into the humid summer air, and you were tempted to return to the sanctity of her air-conditioned shop.

“You’re back! Thank God!” Utahime ushered you further away from your salvation, to which you whined and peered back at it forlornly. “Come with me to the shrine! I found more mythological history books recently, and you promised to tell me about Sne– sneguh– snah?”

“Snegurochka,” you corrected.

“Yeah! Her!”

A limb wrapped around your middle, drawing you back into a board chest. “No can do, Utahime!” Satoru shut her down cheerily, pressing his cheek against yours. “She already agreed to go on a date with me to the park.”

Utahime’s appalled expression was mirrored in your own. Her upper lip lifted in a snarl directed at your captor and…date, apparently.

“Like hell! I’m not letting you corrupt my friend!” She growled.

“Corrupt?” He pouted, playing the part of virtuous maiden. “Me? Why, I’d never.”

Suguru crossed his arms over his chest. “With us, Satoru. Don’t forget about me.”

“Hard to when your head is so big,” the other boy snapped in return.

You gawked at Geto, disbelieving. He was supposed to be your savior! “It is not a date! Don’t go making Iori-san and Shoko think the wrong things!”

“Welp, I gotta head back to the clinic,” Shoko said as her name was called, beginning to walk past. She patted your bicep on the way. “Good luck.”

“Shoko!” You cried out after her. “Come back here!”

She merely waved over her shoulder with her cigarette pinched between her fingers, blowing out a stream of smoke.

Utahime cupped your face in her hands, expression taut with seriousness. “Blink twice if they’re holding you prisoner.”

You heard ‘blink’ and went with it, batting your eyes as fast as you could.

“I knew it!” She bayed, tugging at Satoru’s arms – but she couldn’t free you. “Let go of her, you dog!”

He jerked his head towards the hill her shrine sat atop and gasped theatrically. “Oh, no! Is that a fire near your shrine?”

“What!?” She whirled around in horror, opening up the opportunity for him to tow you away, one arm staying around your waist while he led you into an unwilling sprint.

“Ohp, so sorry, guess I was wrong!” He yelled back, giggling at the rage painted all over her twisted expression.

“Satoru!” She shrieked, watching with grit teeth as Suguru jogged to catch up. “Yeah! Get him, Suguru–” Her jaw dropped when he grabbed your hand with his free one, making you run faster. “Oh, Heaven’s sake, not you, too!”

What the fuck! You didn’t agree to extra exercise today! And poor Utahime! You really hoped she wasn’t assuming things about your relationship with the men.

“Hey– guys! Slow down, damnit!” You heaved out. “Ugh! You two are awful!”

They simply laughed, hauling you right along to the park. Their long ass strides made this hell for you, and you were certain that if the park wasn’t so close, you would have eaten shit and died from the amount of times you stumbled. Their tight grips kept you from falling, and you partially wished they’d just let you collapse.

Pavement gave way to grass, the impact of your shoes becoming dulled. After running a few steps further, they finally gave you mercy and let go of you, slowing their gaits to a stop.

You slapped your hands against your knees, greedily sucking in air through the ache in your throat.

“You two–” pant, “really–” pant, “fucking–” pant, “suck.”

Satoru snickered and smoothed a hand over your messy tendrils, ignoring your death stare, finding it humorous in your current state. “Aww, come on! That was fun!”

“You’re gonna give Iori-san and Shoko the wrong idea,” you groaned, wiping wetness off your brow.

He feigned innocence. “What idea?”

Bastard.

“That we– tch,” you took in one more deep breath to catch your breath. “Nevermind. Shut up.”

“Don’t be like that!” He purred, right on your tail as you trudged to a nearby maple tree.

With the impromptu run, plus the season, the heat was finally getting to you. For all of Satoru’s bravado, you took solace in the fact that it also looked like the temperature was affecting him.

You flopped down under a maple tree you picked out and loafed back on your palms, trying to survive the immense wave of evil weather that chose to sweep across the valley. You felt like you were turning into a prune, or a sponge that got tossed into an oven set on broil, despite all the sweating. You weren’t a stranger to high summer temperatures, but this was asininity.

Somehow, you survived the trip to the park, mourning the glacial morning dew that had long since evaporated, leaving the grass tepid at best. But you’d take anything, whatever it cost to keep you from roasting like a fine crème brûlée.

Satoru dropped down beside you, not doing much better than you, and Suguru slumped against the bark of the hulking plant, taking respite under it.

The shrill songs of cicadas took presence everywhere, chirping and pestering the females in hopes of copulating and passing along their live-underground-for-17-years genes.

You were immensely happy that you managed to clear out most of your lawn before the true harshness of the season kicked into full swing. You would not have lived through that, and doing it at night would have been too dangerous.

Work was very far from what you wanted to think about, though.

“Why the fuck is Japan so hot in summer,” you lamented, lethargically fanning yourself with a slack hand. It did zilch to help. “How do you deal with this?”

You squealed when something chilly touched your forehead and squinted up to see Suguru holding out a popsicle to you. You grabbed it without a second thought and ripped off the plastic covering, stuffing the crumpled ball back in his awaiting hand.

Sweet, cold, saintly watermelon spread over your tongue and you ascended, tilting your head back as you nursed the popsicle like it was the ambrosia of the gods themselves.

Satoru skewed over and dropped his head on your shoulder, making you lour at him. You very much did not need someone else’s muggy body heat worsening the already unbearably humid air.

“Fan me,” he demanded, and you poked his cheek with your popsicle, leaving a sticky spot behind.

“Fan yourself,” you rejected.

Suguru chuckled to himself. “You’ll get used to it and learn how to manage.”

“Speak for yourself,” the man using your side as a bed snarked. “Been here my whole life and I still feel like I’m dying.”

You chomped off a bite of your snack with your molars, flinching at the slight sting, then relaxed as the chunk rested on your tongue. Bless Suguru and his mother hen tendencies. Towards you, anyway. He seemed to find humor in his best friend’s suffering up to a certain point.

The newly purchased, refrigerated, highly-sugary fizz he bought while at the store showed he did care at the end of the day.

Summer in rural Japan smelled nice. That was about all the praise you were capable of giving this hellish landscape when you were getting steamed like a damn dumpling. Winter you could deal with; in winter, you could just add extra clothes or blankets or whatever for more warmth. You could only get so naked in summer before you were melting into a gross puddle.

“I wanna skin myself,” you slurred around your icy treat.

Suguru snorted. “That’s morbid.”

You bored into him blankly, examining his clothes – light-colored long sleeves and full-length, loose pants versus your tank top and flappy shorts. “How the hell are you dealing with this so well?”

He simply shrugged and gave you that closed-eye smile that always had your insides doing funky things they flat-out were not allowed to do. “I’ve always preferred summer.”

Hm. It added up. You always associated him with the sun – warm, inviting, making you want to lay somewhere soft and bask in his glow. But that feeling was warmth, not sweltering fire making your muscles shed off your very bones.

“You’re a beast,” you mumbled, unsure if you were admiring or fearing him. “What ‘bout you, Toru?”

“Ehh?”

“Season.”

“What about it?”

You whined and placed your head on his. “Pay attention, idiot.”

“Well, excuse me, princess. I’m busy trying to not die of heatstroke over here,” he pinched your thigh, making you yelp.

You flicked the back of his hand in retaliation. “What’s your favorite season?”

“Oh,” he pried his limpid orbs open and eyed you from over the rim of his sunglasses. Those glistening, forget-me-not hues never failed to whisk your breath away. “Spring.”

“Good choice,” you approved.

Suguru bent down from the tree, angling his head to the side as he pointed a finger at himself. “Oh? Is my choice not good?”

“Ask me again when I don’t feel like I’m evaporating,” you muttered, taking another bite of your ice snack and plainting at the sharp pain radiating in your teeth for a few seconds. He merely laughed in the voice that had you feeling twice as flushed, instantly soothing the pain away.

“Don’t eat it like that if it just hurts you,” the silver-blond grumbled, his eyes already closed again as he fought to fend off the temperature mentally, if he couldn’t spare himself physically.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you huffed pettishly.

You partially closed your eyes and lazed back on your free palm, absentmindedly licking up the melted drips before they landed on your hand and coated it in residue. More than they already had, anyway.

A welcomed breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees surrounding you, a relieving balm against scalding skin that had all three of you sighing in alleviation. It rustled the yellow of the leaves above your head, creating a mesmerizing show of dancing golden fans, their edges dipped in crimson.

The droning chirps of cicadas, the tweets of birds calling to their brooding mates as they brought back food from a successful hunt, the fragrance of blooming flowers being pollinated, having their nectar gathered in preparation for being turned into honey – all of it surrounded you in a deep serenity you didn’t know you were capable of feeling.

Your head was optimistically empty, merely taking in the ambiance in fine detail. The lush, fluffy grass underhand tickled your wrist and the back of your hand, and the pleasant silence with your closest friends made you…happy.

You’d been happy for a while now, but never stopped to notice it until this moment.

You found two idiots and two other kind-of-normal people to call friends, and you always ardently anticipated hanging out with them, rather than dreading it. You were pouty when they were busy, and ecstatic when you could all gather together.

Especially these two dumbasses, Tweedledee and Tweedledum. You spent most of your time with them, doing things that reminded you of the nostalgic highschool and college years you didn’t recall having.

You ruminated on how different your life would have been if you knew them from childhood; if you went to school with them, grew up as neighbors, mourned when Satoru left for his studies, celebrated when he returned. Would you have still ended up like this, a paranoid kite that was running out of thread to cut?

Or would you have been normal – or, at least, normal-adjacent? How would being raised in Japan differ from your home nation?

…

Home nation.

What was your home nation, again?

All that came to mind was here, now, with your best friends on either side of you. You knew where you were born, but that seemed so far away, now. You didn’t remember what the sky looked like over there – if you caught a glimpse of it at all in the first place.

Reflecting back left an odd emotion welling in your chest, like you were forgetting something. You wouldn’t say melancholy, nor yearning. It wasn’t nostalgia, either, seeing as you were semi-nomadic for a good portion of your life. You didn’t stay in one place long enough to form attachments to anyone or anything.

When you tried to think about your childhood friends, you saw Geto, Gojo, Ieiri, and Iori. The boys were smaller, childlike, with chubbier cheeks and brattier attitudes, but your boys regardless. You remembered how Satoru was the class clown that frequently set off your teachers, while Suguru egged him on from the backlines, purposefully getting on his nerves.

Shoko was there, too, watching with a shit-eating grin and not doing anything to help. Utahime at least tried.

And then there was you.

You didn’t really know if you were there or not. Just a spectator, possibly, but it didn’t seem like that. Not an empty, silent, emotionless observer, no. You couldn’t put your finger on it. What you were was there, on the tip of your tongue, you just didn’t know the word for it.

These memories weren’t real, you knew that. But it didn’t hurt to imagine they were, especially when they felt like they were.

You could see yourself growing up with them, spending days lazing under the shade just like you were now, losing half the water in your body under the unforgiving summer sun and turning into a sort of sad excuse for a cucumber. You could remember the sharp sting of a wadded up piece of paper hitting your temple from across the table, your head shooting up so you could glare at jubilant Satoru that concluded throwing notes at you from two feet away was a better use of his time than just whispering or, gods forbid, studying.

You were certain he did it specifically because it pissed you off, and because he was unafraid of repercussions from the teacher. Discipline didn’t exist in his dictionary. Suguru would grab the wad from your other side to toss it right back and nail his best friend in the center of his forehead, leading to a paper ball fight that you were, unfortunately, directly in the middle of.

Shoko and Utahime, the lucky bitches, were smart to choose seats a few tables back, safely out of the firing and collateral range.

You tried to join the two several times, yet the boys somehow always managed to sit you right back between them. You were their ‘mediator’, even though you tended to exhort them rather than soothe. You did calm them down, but only after you, Shoko, and Utahime had a good show. It was payback for all the times they dragged you into their messes.

Other memories filtered in bit by bit, sporadic sections popping up as they pleased; dying on the track field together, sparring against one another, learning vague concepts in a classroom that scarcely had anyone in it. You and Satoru would crack stupid jokes until you were both in stitches, Suguru would be there when your thoughts became too much to handle, Shoko was the one to mend you with a touch that felt both toasty and mellow at the same time.

There weren’t a lot of you, but you had each other, and that was all you needed. You had your friends by your side, and you were complete.

You were pulled from your woolgathering when you felt someone pluck your popsicle from your hand, your eyes flying open to gawp at Suguru in disbelief as he took a sizable bite out of it, then returned it innocently, as if he hadn’t just robbed you blind.

“Hey!” You cried out. “Thief! That was mine! You said you were fine in summer!”

“I said I prefer summer, not that I’m immune to it,” he corrected you, licking off a spot of juice from the corner of his mouth. Such a simple action from him legally wasn’t allowed to be that devastatingly attractive, yet here he was, casually breaking the law and sending you into disarray. “Besides, I paid for it.”

“Unfair,” you pouted, staring down at your now half-gone heatstroke preventer. “You can’t just give me something, then take it back.”

He chuckled and knelt beside you. “Relax, I’ll buy you another one.”

You instantly perked up. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Will you buy one for me, too, Suguwu?” Satoru flapped his long eyelashes and stuck out his lower lip.

“No.”

“What!?” He sprung upright. “Now that’s unfair! It’s favoritism!”

Suguru snorted and dropped the bag between your knee and Satoru’s, which the latter took to like a raccoon to a dumpster. He dug around inside the plastic until he located his drink and held it up like Arthur did with Excalibur.

Only Gojo could down this amount of sugar in a single day and not suffer the consequences, you mused, watching him greedily gulp at the borderline dessert. Maybe there was some merit to his body being godly, after all.

“Hey,” Gojo called out after chugging a solid 2/3rds of the soda. “What are those, uhhhh…maple syrup snow candies called?”

“I think they're just called maple syrup snow candies,” you filled in.

“Maple candy, or maple taffy,” Suguru enlightened you. “Popular treat in winter in Canada.”

Satoru gave a thumbs-up in appreciation. “Yeah, those. I want one of those.”

You lamented. “It’s the middle of summer.”

“But they sound so cold and good. Mm…I can taste it already. I just know they'd save me from this god awful heat. Thanks for the soda, by the way, Suguru.”

Geto hummed in acknowledgement.

An idea flittered into your mind and you sat ramrod straight, clapping your hands together and grabbing their attention. Satoru grunted, slipping partially off you. “Let’s go to the river!”

“Hm,” Suguru considered it. “Not a bad idea, might help us cool down.”

You celebrated at obtaining his approval and passed the rest of your popsicle to Satoru, who devoured it in a single chomp.

A large hand was offered to you in way of assistance and you grabbed it, getting pulled easily with a short ‘hup’ from your aide. He inspected your form for a moment, then plucked a fallen leaf from the top of your head, twisting it between his digits. When a gale lifted, he released it, letting the unseen hands of the sky carry it away.

Satoru was up on his feet, too, the plastic bag in his hand crinkling from the shift in position. “Let’s go!”

He took the lead, speed-walking through the park to reach the shallow slope that allowed easy access to the river. For someone who was about as dead as you minutes ago, he obtained an infectiously energetic zest out of nowhere. Motivation is a hell of a drug.

You caught up to him and skipped forward, unburdened by needing to carry anything like the pair. Already able to feel the refreshing bite of the water as it came into view, you picked up the pace, racing towards the cure to your ails.

You tore off your tank top in the process and threw it somewhere carelessly, stumbling out of your sandals as you neared upon the shoreline of the river. Leaving them behind on a boulder, you skidded down the bank to the icy waters and jumped in, dressed in your shorts and sports bra.

A shrill cry and jubilant hoot echoed in the valley as goosebumps coated your skin, prickling the hair on your arms and nape. Frigid liquid surrounded you, abruptly replacing torrid solstice with frozen tundra.

“Fuck, cold!”

Satoru was rolling up his pant legs, his own button-up having been disposed of like your top. Just as eager to experience the same liberation you did, he toed off his shoes and ripped off his socks, then he was kicking up water next to you as he joined you. The crystalline liquid came to about mid-thigh for him, but that didn’t stop you being able to see all the hairs on his body stand on end all at once.

“Cold!” He echoed you.

You laughed, running your wet hands through your hair. “That’s what I’m saying!”

Not wasting a second, he threw a handful of water onto you, making you twist your body to avoid the splash. You shrieked from the pellets of frost raining down on you, his icy-toned orbs brimming with mirth at your reaction.

Suguru was still on the shore, more composed and patient than either you or his best friend. He went about methodically locating both your and Satoru’s shirts, setting them down on the ground beside the bag and his backpack, then focused on his own clothes.

He slipped off his shoes and socks, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and legs of his pants, and stepped into the river.

Just to get grabbed and pulled further in by Satoru before he could get acclimated to the pressure of the running stream.

He took in a shallow breath, bounding forward to keep his balance and not fall splat into the rapid. “Satoru!”

“Come on!” Lanky fingers pushed back ivory hair. “Relax a bit, would ya?”

Chestnut eyes narrowed. “There’s a difference between relaxing and getting waterboarded.”

Gojo huffed. “Yeah? How would you know what getting waterboarded feels like?”

“How many times have you nearly drowned me in your hot spring?”

“Doesn’t count.”

“It does count!”

The two were distracted, arguing about drowning technicalities, which meant they weren’t paying attention to you.

Perfect.

You sank down into the flowing water, shivering from the hibernal wet as it surrounded you. Once you were absolutely certain they had no idea what you were up to, you made your move.

Crawling along the riverbed, you let the flow guide you, using the sound of water breaking to further creep up on your companions.

You could hear the Jaws theme slowly ramping up in your mind, each beat growing louder as you neared. Trembles wracked your body, caused by a mesh of the nippy waters and budding adrenaline.

A little further, you were too far…still too far…almost…

“Rrah!” You jumped out the moment you were within range of your target, unleashing your fiercest battle roar as you threw yourself onto Satoru’s back and wrapped your arms around his neck.

The man choked in surprise, and based on the way he promptly lost balance and dropped like a rock into the waters with a heady splash, you could proudly say you caught him off guard. You both surfaced with deep gasps of breath, and you were on top of him as soon as he sat up.

Using your position of straddling his thighs to your advantage, you skipped past the torture and went straight for the kill.

Your fingers grabbed his sides and started lightly scratching at them.

Satoru hiccuped and howled, writhing and trying to shove you off him as you attacked him with endless tickles. “Wait! S-Stop, no! That tickles!”

“Give up your throne, Gojo Satoru!” You demanded, doubling down on the siege on his crown. “Name me king, or I will never stop!”

He easily turned into a blubbering mess despite his attempts to stay stoic and strong. “N-No way! Oh, god– stop! Please!”

“Not until you hand me your crown!”

“Never! I’ll–” you pinched his hip and he yowled. “Okay! Fuck, fine, it’s yours, just spare me! Please!”

“Yes!” You released him at long last and threw your arms in the air in victory. “I’m the king of this valley! Haha, suck it!”

You climbed off Satoru as he took deep breaths to calm himself, turning your focus on Suguru, who was losing his shit on the shoreline. Wheezes slipped past his lips, the boy barely getting a chance to inhale before he was cackling all over again.

Standing with your legs shoulder-width apart and one fist on your hip, you pointed at Geto authoritatively. “You! Surrender to me now or face the punishment of one thousand tickles for defying the king!

“Oh, god,” he heaved, arms clutching his ribs to keep himself together. Bunny lines formed on the bridge of his nose, brows pinched tight, tears springing to the corners of his amber eyes. “I can’t, the threat of tickles is too much. I surrender, I surrender!”

“The king is triumphant! All hail the king!” You thundered, throwing your head back to unleash a demonic chortle that soon turned into real laughter. “Mark my words, on this da–”

Powerful hands pushed against your side, and you went crashing unceremoniously into the river.

Poor Suguru was wiping away more tears at the point of you reemerging, flushed red from head to toe from the exertion.

“This is a coup!” Satoru announced. “I’m taking back the crown!”

“Wh– no fair!” You objected, wiping your face free of water. “I won that fair and square!”

He beamed down at you, summer skies reflected in his spring eyes. “Come and get it, then!”

An all-out war was waged then between you and Satoru, a motley of screams, hollers, and demands getting thrown back and forth at one another. The activity and sweltering sun kept your blood thermal within the oasis of the numbing waterway.

This pearl of time belonged to the three of you and the three of you alone. The seconds slowed infinitely, and though they never came to a true stop, they lasted longer than the birth, life, and death of a distant star. This, to you, was paradise. Your skin was frosty, but your heart was blooming as you skylarked and frisked with people you’d met only a short time ago, but treated like you’d known one another all your lives.

The limits of your joy seemed to shatter with each passing day, expanding more than you ever thought possible. Hell, you never so much as considered that experiencing exultation to this degree was possible in and of itself, but you basked in it all the same.

As long as it lasted, you would savor it.

The sun was beginning its descent when your trio chose to end your excursion, feeling sufficiently chilled.

“Brr,” you quivered as you made your way out, squeezing water out of your hair. “My fingers are like icicles.”

“Come on, ladybug,” Suguru offered you his hand, which you took gratefully, allowing him to guide you out of the river. “That’s enough for today, you’ll catch a cold. Let’s go get you warmed up.”

You moaned in complaint at the thought of having to walk all the way back home. You really should have considered it before deciding to take a dip. Curse your spontaneity. “I forgot, Satoru’s house is on that damn mountain.”

“We’re going to my place,” he corrected nonchalantly, as if it’d been long decided. “It’s closer, and my folks are out for the weekend.”

A hand towel was dropped on your face by Satoru, probably one Suguru brought with him when packing his backpack earlier in the day.

“Dry off, princess,” Satoru instructed you as he crouched down by Geto’s backpack, popping open a bottle of water to knock back. He tossed a second one towards the noiret, who caught it with ease.

He waited for you to finish rubbing as much water off your head as you could before he twisted the top of the bottle off and handed it to you with a pointed look. A veiled threat to drink before I make you.

Well, jokes on him, you actually did want to drink water.

You took it from him and gulped down half the fluid inside it without hesitation. By some boon, you had the self control to stop before you got sick, and returned the water with a thank-you. Suguru took it upon himself to finish the rest of it.

Satoru snatched the towel from you, replacing it with your tank top (also placed on your head). You blew him a raspberry and tugged it on, cringing at the feeling of your dry (sorta) clothing getting caught on your damp skin. Maybe you should have considered bringing a towel. You would have, if you’d known beforehand that you’d be making a stop at the river.

You hooked your fingers into the back straps of your sandals when they were handed to you, the other two following suit. The village was kept clean, so none of you were worried about stepping on anything concerning, especially since Suguru’s house was right nearby.

“Ready to go?” He asked you, and you nodded.

His palm had returned to its normal calidity, something you noticed as he helped you up the slope. The boy’s body ran like a damn furnace, even after playing in the stream for a couple hours with you. Granted, he somehow managed to keep himself dry above the knees, but regardless.

All three of you were tired out, and you were looking forward to unwinding for the evening. The two boys didn’t bicker much, some light teasing in quieter tones, and – as promised – the trip to Geto’s home was short. You were standing within the genkan of his house in no time, waiting patiently while he disappeared further in to grab a couple towels.

His house resembled the buildings around the middle of town, sitting on the side of the river your house did. There was a stretch of land behind it, but you didn’t get a chance to see much, having been ushered into the cozy abode.

Being a bit nosy, you peeked around. There was a staircase leading up that hugged the wall of a turn to your left, leaving only the bottom few steps visible to you. The hallway straight ahead was clean and minimalist, likely leading to a dining room, if you had to guess.

Each home had its own unique smell, and his smelled of spices and something faintly earthy, like fresh soil.

“Here we go,” Suguru announced his return, rounding the corner with a few towels in tow. He tossed one down at your feet above the genkan, motioning for you to step onto it. Obeying, you moved out of the pit, allowing him to layer a second towel around you before tossing the last one to Satoru.

“You can shower first,” he said to you.

You grabbed at the towel, pressing it into your hips and thighs to absorb the water that remained in your soaked bottoms. “Are you sure I can go first?”

He nodded. “You can take a bath, too, if you want.”

“Just a shower is fine, I think. I don’t want to take too long, since you two need to shower, too.”

Satoru sidled up to you, his smug ass grin coming into view as he hovered his chin over your shoulder. “Or, I could shower with you.”

Frankly, you were too drained to let that statement fluster you.

Suguru placed the tip of his index between Satoru’s brows and pushed his head away. “Leave her be, creep. Dry your legs, dude, you’re getting water everywhere.”

“You’re no fun,” the towhead pouted, but retreated anyway.

“Come on,” Geto settled his hand on your nape, guiding you inside. “Don’t be shy, the walls don’t bite.”

You snorted. “New fear unlocked.”

He snickered, shaking his head in amusement. “Relax, I won’t let any walls bite you.”

He took you around the bend, past the stairs, which opened up directly to the living room. While following a more traditional structural style, the interior was comfortably modern. A plush, gray couch was pushed against the wall, with side tables on either end. You immediately noticed that the place was littered with a bunch of plants. Some hung from the ceiling, a few were situated on floating shelves, and a potted shrub was situated near the flatscreen opposite to the couch.

You gawked around shamelessly with parted lips, intrigued by the domesticity of his home. “Your place is so nice, Suguru.”

He chuffed beside you. “Don't go making fun of me while you're my guest, now, angel.”

“I'm not!” You gasped, affronted. “I swear! I like it. Lots of plants.”

“My mom’s an avid plant parent,” he explained.

You hummed in appreciation. “It’s homely.”

He exhaled through his nose and pressed his thumb and first finger into your trapezius. “Thank you. Go shower; second door to your left down the hall. I'll lay out some clean clothes for you in a little bit.”

He pointed towards an open sliding door on the other side of the shrub, bumping you forward. You needed no further prompting, trotting off in the direction he showed.

Thankfully, you didn’t get lost on the way, his instructions easy to follow. Finding the bathroom, you went into it and closed the door. Your fingers hesitated over the lock on the knob, debating. He said he’d bring clothing, but didn’t mention where he’d put it…

You chose to leave it unlocked and hurriedly got to work shedding your drenched clothes. Placing the towel down on the sink counter, you unabashedly peeped the details of the bathroom while you dropped the pieces of your outfit onto the towel.

Just like the rest of his place, the bathroom was well taken care of, also adorned with a few plants, albeit smaller and out of the way. He wasn’t kidding when he said his mom liked plants.

The ceiling light gave off an inviting glow, subconsciously helping you relax. Naked, you fiddled around with the shower knobs until you got hot water to blast out. You squeaked in surprise, adjusted the temp to be your desired level, and hopped right in.

It felt like years of stress were dissolving right off you. His shower might not have been high-techy and super modern like the one you used back at Satoru’s, but the familiarity in its style brought you a kind of comfort you didn’t know you were missing. You melted into the rising steam, sighing deeply and simply doing nothing for a minute to unwind.

It was a good day, the chaos with Granny, Shoko, and Utahime included. You’d have to reassure those two later that Satoru and Suguru were just teasing. Well, Utahime. For Shoko, you’d probably have to convince her, and you didn’t have faith you’d succeed.

You glanced around, spotting a bottle of body wash that looked like it belonged to Suguru on an inset tile shelf. You grabbed it, hoping he wouldn’t mind you using it.

Reading over the label, you admired his choice in soap: lavender and green tea, both for scent and the benefits they provided.

You couldn’t help the giddy little burst of vim you got knowing you were about to smell like him, too.

You squeezed some onto your palm and lathered it between your hands, then started rubbing it onto your body. The day’s strain, dirt, grime, and weariness lifted with it, washing off in thin and slow waves of white streaks down your figure. You felt lighter and lighter with each pass over your chest, waist, hips, and thighs.

Tension thawed from your shoulders as you scrubbed your hands along them, muscles loosening with each bit of cleanliness you gained. It felt nice. Really nice, a calm time away to yourself to let go.

His shampoo also smelled like green tea, and you were occupied with massaging it into your hair when there was a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” You called out.

The door cracked open. “Just me,” Suguru responded. “Brought some clothes for you. I’ll leave them on the counter.”

“Oh, thank you!” What’d you do to deserve a friend like him?

There were some rustling noises as he spoke. “It’s no problem, I’m not gonna leave you hanging without something to change into. Do you mind if I take your clothes to toss in the wash?”

“That’s fine,” you permitted. “I’ll be out soon.”

“Don’t worry about it, take your time,” he said, and then the door was closed once more.

Even if he told you to, you still didn’t want to hog the shower to yourself, knowing that Satoru got just as river-bathed as you did, and he was wearing pants to boot.

You rinsed off the shampoo and followed it up with the matching conditioner, using your fingers to delicately comb out any tangles. Though they weren’t your own products, they felt amazing, making your tresses silky smooth. You would have to ask him where he got his products.

You were out as soon as you were done washing your hair. You cocooned yourself in the clean, fluffy towel he also provided, loving the texture. It was soft yet absorbent, coaxing away any droplets that clung to your curves and planes.

You wanted to steal it.

But, reluctant as you might have been, you refrained. You used it to dry your hair some, and folded it to set aside after you were sufficiently devoid of liquid. Checking the clothes Suguru provided you, you noted he gave you a pair of sweats with a drawstring, allowing you to adjust the waistline as needed. Ever the observant mother hen, you were grateful for his foresight.

You slipped on the t-shirt first, pleased by the material as it came to rest against your freshly washed skin. It was noticeably oversized, but in a sleepy-Sunday sort of way, big enough to be cute and snuggly.

The sweats were huge on you by comparison, what with his absurdly long limbs. You tugged the drawstring to your preferred tightness, then rolled up the legs until they were out of the way and you wouldn’t trip over them.

All dressed, you opened the door with your used towel in hand and walked out to find Suguru waiting for you, leaning against the wall beside the room. He smiled warmly at you and pushed himself off his support, holding out his hand to take the towel from you.

A quick sweep over your form showed he was appraising your outfit with an approving eye, pride undisguised. “That shirt looks good on you.”

You were probably imagining the hint of possessiveness in his tone.

“Ehehe,” you giggled fiendishly, channeling your inner menace as you lightly tugged at the fabric of the top. “Mine, now.”

His expression softened into a smile that had little cupid wings fluttering on your back, a smile you only ever saw him give you. “All yours, angel. You can go sit down in the living room, I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” you nodded and followed his instructions, making your way back to the flora-infested room.

Settling down on the couch, you exhaled and closed your eyes. You heard the shower start up again before it became muffled by the door, presumably because of Satoru. You weren’t left waiting long, the five or so minutes you were alone flying by. The padding of feet signaled you to Suguru’s return, your eyes prying open halfway to peer languidly at him.

“Here,” he jutted his chin towards you. “Sit on the floor, I’ll do your hair.”

Finding no reason to object, you stood and let him take your place on the cushion before plopping yourself down between his legs. He tilted your head forward, then got to work. His touch was ever so gentle, fingers diligent in their movements as he treated your hair with a knowingness you didn’t expect him to have.

Amicable silence filled the space around you, just the shifting of clothes and the slick sound of leave-in as he spread it evenly through your tresses. It gave your mind the freedom to drift away undisturbed.

As he was carefully drying and styling your hair, you thought about how Suguru often reminded you of a cat, considering his tendency to groom you. Or a bird, like a crow or a raven, that liked to preen you.

If you were all some sort of animal hybrids, you could easily imagine him being either some sort of corvid, a vulpine, or a big cat. A black leopard, to be specific.

If Satoru was a big cat, he would be a snow leopard. You refused to take any other suggestions. The tall freak was touchy, cuddly, and so proficient in hiding himself within an environment that did not suit him that he could be breathing down your neck and you'd be none the wiser.

The more you thought about it, the more you could picture them as their respective animals. Satoru would undoubtedly sunbathe with his belly up, paws curled, tail flicking side to side happily, unafraid of showing his biggest weakness.

You compared and contrasted between your options for him. He did like to give you small, shiny things, and you'd never refuse because oooh, shiny! His hair reminded you of crow feathers when it caught the light from the sun. It bore a faint iridescence, a chrome that shifted between emerald and the time just between midnight and dawn, in the earliest hours of the morning where stars still sparkled brilliantly. You could picture him preening his feathers, plucking out the pins and fluffing the downy fuzz.

Though black leopard might have suited him better. He tended to rub his cheek against yours or the top of your head whenever you embraced. You could easily picture him loafing under the shade, licking his paw to smooth out his fur and ensure it matched the rest of his satiny complexion. He had the personality of a laid back, lazy feline that could turn from a sweet teeny baby kitten into a merciless predator in the blink of an eye.

You'd seen the way he behaved when he wanted something – the narrowing of his eyes, the set of his jaw, the concentration in his brow.

It made a tremor flit up your body, especially when he set his sights on you like that. He was capable of being a silent stalker, an expert in scaring the ever living shit out of you any chance he got, just like Satoru.

That soursop boy was surely the type to roll over and let others do things for him. Feed him, rub his belly, comb through his fur. You hadn’t seen him when he was prowling, searching for a meal to hunt down, but sometimes you got a flicker of something similar to it in his eyes. Like a passing rumination, where he considered if it was worth exhausting energy to chase down his prey.

…Could the reason you’d had yet to witness his hunt be because of his ability to camouflage? Because he didn’t want you to see?

The concept gave you chills.

You suppressed your reaction at the introspection, remembering that Suguru was behind you, gently drying your hair with tepid air and tender touches. You didn't want to embarrass yourself by giving him the impression that he was pleasuring you.

Which he undeniably was, but he didn't need to know about the prickles and tingles traveling all the way from your crown to your tailbone.

You continued your train of thought.

Satoru the Snow Leopard would spend his days grooming you endlessly, licking at your fur until it stuck out in all kinds of wild angles. After that, Suguru would mend the spiky hairs until you were glossy and sleek like him.

What did that make you in comparison to them?

Standing side by side with them, it was clear you were prey – unless you were a black-footed cat. But given your dynamic and how the two of them liked to coddle you, you doubted you'd resemble any kind of predator.

If you had to be prey, then what? A doe, or gazelle?

No, those were unfortunately too majestic, and you weren't nearly as graceful as those lovely creatures. Your habit of tripping over your own feet proved case enough.

Okay, so if you weren't either of those…you supposed you could still fit into the cervidae family. Pudu deer was a possibility.

You tried to imagine it, but sadly, you couldn't put yourself into deer hooves.

Were birds prey? Some of them had to be, like doves, right?

If you were a bird, then Suguru had to be, too. You only trusted him to primp and help you maintain your feathers. Satoru would just chomp on them.

Alright, so no-go on the birds, then. Field mouse?

No, too small. You were short, but not that short. They’d also likely accidentally swallow you whole if they tried to mend a stray whisker.

Fennec fox?

You contemplated it, then mentally shook your head. You weren't high-pitched and energetic enough to qualify for that. Satoru would beg to differ, and you’d let him, because it’d be funny. Also, they were predators, anyway.

A brief memory flashed in your mind of something Satoru said, back when you first met Suguru.

‘I don't know,’ he hummed in deliberation. ‘I prefer bunny. Or mochi.’

Bunny.

Bunny…

A rabbit with floppy ears and an upturned tail. Fuzzy and velvety, obviously small and squishy, as much as you grimaced at those choice words of his.

Flumped right between either of their front paws, or stuffed in the middle of their bodies when they curled up to nap. Or chilling on one of their backs, your little paws on their head to watch the world from an angle you could never see on your own.

Bunny fit perfectly, a glove with no rips in the stitch.

You three together would consist of a snow leopard, a black leopard, and a small rabbit that they decided to keep as a pet and not dinner. For whatever reason that could be. Fish are friends, not food.

You had no idea why you chose to start daydreaming about being animorphs. Imagining being squished by their hulking forms in the afternoon rays, or being wrapped up in their fluffy tails for warmth on autumn nights. They were fun images to entertain.

“You seem to be quite deep in thought,” Suguru's breath brushed against the shell of your ear, spooking you. You hadn't even noticed he was finished. “Care to let me in?”

“Eep!” You squeaked, rotating partially to give him the stink eye for doing the thing he and Satoru always did. No way were you going to let him in on your weird brain doing weird brain things. “It's nothing important, just fantasizing a bit. Zoned out.”

Ohp.

And there was that hungry gleam in his eye, the shimmer in his black tea hues. You hit the nail on the head with the black leopard comparison.

“Fantasizing about what?” He purred. Cat. “About me?”

Your lashes fluttered and you whipped your head back in the other direction, tucking your newly dry and enviously soft hair behind your ears. “N-No?”

Man.

You were such a bad liar.

He, merciful god that he is, elected to only tease you and not try to dive into the unreasonably bizarre pool of thoughts that swirled and whirled in your consciousness like the godsforsaken mess you were.

Nor ask about why most of them revolved around those two boys. Bless him, your hero. Satoru would have tormented you until you gave in out of desperation, just to make him shut up. Then, he'd tease you about those ideas for the rest of your days. Probably double down on the bunny related nicknames, poke right above your tailbone and make jokes about how he should make you wear a pair of bunny ears and a tail. And then make the tail option extremely not family friendly.

Heaven’s mercy spare you if you give him any more ideas beyond that. Like a skimpy outfit that barely covered your tits and had a crotch narrow enough to give you a wedgie-induced friction burn where friction burns did not belong and would not wish on your worst enemy.

Well, no, maybe you would, but that's besides the point.

You chuffed out your nose and let your head fall back against the cushion between Geto's legs. His fingers found their way back to your scalp, massaging and lightly scratching at it until you were pushing into his hands like a needy kitten.

“Comfortable?” He asked with an amused lilt in his voice, to which you chirped merrily in answer.

You really were. Limbs like jelly, squeaky clean, tired out after playing in the river with them. You felt good, truly and genuinely good.

Aversion to permanent routine or not, you’d welcome every day with open arms if they were like this. Peaceful contentment after a long stretch of sunlit hours, able to let loose and uncoil any strain in your body, it all sounded so…

Happy.

You were okay with being happy like this.

You were okay with forgetting your past and what drove you here in the first place. You didn’t mind having your eyes shift shut, lashes sweeping over the highs of your cheekbones. You were alright with one of your best friends playing idly with your hair, and you were fine with listening to him hum some melody to himself as he did so.

It was okay.

This was okay.

You were okay.

banner by cafekitsune ♥

taglist: @kimi01985

#Tether Me #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #satosugu x reader #jjk x reader #chimera writes

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queenofallimagines · 11 months

Text

Lucifer if you were a Luciferian before coming to the devildom

as a devotee I think this would be fucking hilarious bc I’ve seen people do “hail Satan” shirts but hear me out-

** a treat before part 2

Lucifer:

- probably will not recognize you off the bat

- Like he’s like “oh ok it’s you” but it doesn’t connect that your HIS

- Like he’s under a lot of pressure right now and stress

- Is pleasantly surprised that you listen so well. Probably gets smug that you listen so obediently

- Sees his sigil on your necklace or something and then it hits him like a fucking BRICK

- Especially if he peeps you doing stuff for him out of habit

- Goes back to look at your file and is like “holy shit I’m literally your patron”

- Will bring it up to you and ask why you don’t make a big deal of it

- “I mean I was already used to living with you? This ain’t much different”

- Ngl in the beginning he would manipulate you about the stairs bc your a good little disciple you’ll do whatever your deity says right?

- But that wouldn’t work bc his first and most basic belief is fuck blind obedience and to question things when uncertain

- Honestly a “fuck I taught you so well but now your using it against me” situation

- Will ease up that you don’t have bad intentions but he’s going to protect his brothers first and foremost

- Will really keep using the line “do not forget that you belong to me” when he’s trying to intimidate you

- But your used to him dragging you to get your life together to its very ineffective

- Gets really frustrated that you already know his nitpicky strict habits because he likes punishing people and lecturing so the fact that he can’t do that to you to be petty really bothers him

- Gets kinda flustered about spending time with you because he’s so used to knowing everything about your life you getting to see him in his home feels too vulnerable for his liking

- Will ABSOLUTELY bring up embarrassing stories about you

- “Ah, remember when you were asking me to help you get a date? Because I definitely do”

- “Me and your ancestors definitely talk about your questionable taste in men”

- Please use this opportunity to be like “this you🤨” because he will have no answer

- “So what the fuck was you sending me all those 11:11 for😐 please elaborate”

- “…. I don’t know what your talking about”

- “What was the reason for you giving me that headache?”

- Will literally Triple his pride when y’all start being intimate

- You’ve given him a god complex but don’t call it that he will get an attitude

- “My most devoted worshiper letting me use them how I wish”

- Will use that as an excuse to fuck you everywhere

- Likes that you have jewelry with his sigil on it or anything you wear for him

- Feels like a collar, letting everyone know you’re his

- Pulls a mammon and calls you “My human” a lot

- Very overprotective

- Probably makes a pact with you In secret before the end of the program

- Like you guys basically already had one why not make it official??

- Especially if he reached out to you and not the other way around? Lmao yeah your definitely his

- If any of the other brothers find out they WILL moan and groan about you not working with them

- Mammon and asmo are the most vocal

- Might end up having to get stuff for them and your altar too love :/

- They will give you stuff to put up there along with a candle

- Congratulations you now are working with 7 demons and they are all very needy

- Belphie will use that as an excuse to take a nap with him all the time

- “Your doing this in devotion to me cmooooon”

- They all will use that card with you actually lmao good luck

- “Mc! Come watch this anime with me! Your doing it in worship of me so you have to😌”

- Mammon had run that excuse dry bc sir doing your homework does not count as a devotional activity 🙄😒

- Lucifer will brag that it was fate that you were brought to him

- Will also pretend that he chose you on purpose knowing damn well he didn’t 😂

- “But of course I had to choose you, I knew you were the best option.”

- You literally didn’t even look at the name on the paper 😭😭

#lucifer x reader #lucifer obey me #x black!reader #x black male reader #x black fem reader #obey me x reader #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me x black reader #lucifer #my writing #witchy reader #fr #lucifer smut #om lucifer

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

Note

ok Aeon of light Reader has piqued my interests, especially their relation with Nanook. Please make more about them please :D??? It's alright though if you don't want too

END OF A DREAM, BEGINNING OF AN ERA.

notes: OH GOD i forgot to edit the title of the second story. They’re supposed to be the Aeon of the Dream Path + Imaginary element. My bad! I also changed up the timeline there making reader way way more older since I found out Xianzhou residents live for long ass times.

Anyways, thank you! I honestly expected that fic to flop so I’m pleasantly surprised. I spent a long time researching gods to come up with a concept for reader’s path. Very long. Like long enough that I have this obscure fun fact about there being a god called Mama Killa. It partly was because the other Aeon’s concepts / powers are pretty vast (i.e. IX (Nihility) is the god of meaninglessness but can be considered the aeon of insanity and despair as well due to its powers)

[ here is the link to the fic we’re talking about / previous fic ]

YANDERE! NANOOK x READER (AEON OF DREAMS)

warnings: pseudo-incest/godcest, nanook is “born” from your inner hatred towards the universe before he ascended making them technically your child tho this fic can be interpreted as platonic, edgelord aeons, canon divergence. UNEDITED AND RUSHED AF.

I. Ad Somnum Pueri

Hatred always had and will have a root to its madness. Your endless entrapment since your conception ‘birthed’ Nanook. A loathing for existence. A passion for ending every one and every thing. In their path, their destiny, there will be no living beings, there will be no space or time. Only the void, you and the avatar of entropy.

But first they had to take down Yaoshi. After all, even Aeons had to face mortality and if that useless Lan wasn’t capable of keeping you safe in your cradle then it was clear Nanook had to put a hand down.

The Lord of Destruction prided themself for regarding everything — but you — as equal. Everything had to be erased, so there was no point to having favourites or a specific distaste towards another being.

However Yaoshi had broken the camel’s back at your kidnapping. Thus, Nanook decided against their ‘morals’ to give them a special opportunity.

To be the first Aeon whose reverent ichor is in their hands.

II. In Somno In Infinitum

Even after your ascended body was taken and locked away by Yaoshi. You could never argue with the fact that Nanook’s obsession with you remained the most powerful across the universe. You were an Aeon they worshipped vehemently as a young mortal up until now. It was as if they breathed only for you. It came to the point that they even owed their creation to you or not their biological parents.

You were incredibly flattered by such a fact in the beginning. Doting and showering them with blessings, assisting them in the goals in both the waking and slumbering world.

Sleepwalkers was what your scholars called the vessels you used to do your godly work. And Nanook was known throughout the realms to be your favorite.

But when they made a declaration to be a menace to the world, you withdrew all of your support and contact with Nanook. Utterly disappointed with what they have become.

That did not halt their fame and name as your chosen hero from spreading. Their sheer charisma overpowered your network.

Because if there was one thing that was stronger than dreams it was reality.

Indeed you pleaded with your followers never to follow the Lord of Entropy through their sleeping fantasies, but how could they deny Nanook’s efficiency? Their all-out, unbridled, unfettered adoration of you?

And thus, the Dreamcrawler Legion. Now also known by its other name, the Antimatter Legion, was established. With one goal and one goal alone.

Lay the world in a bed of flames and ruin. For when they everyone else goes to eternal sleep, you — their ever generous, loving Aeon — will be free.

III. Mundus Erit Terminus

You never visited Nanook after their ascension. You only ever loved their mortal self. Their path was something you could never hope or desire to follow. Sure, there was a phase of your life where you despised your eternal sleep. But what you learnt from living so long was that acceptance of your situation felt infinitely better than spending eternity filled with loathing.

But Nanook always visited you. While Yaoshi burdened themselves with the task of witnessing your body while asleep. Nanook enjoyed it much more when you talked, your words of guidance — though now reduced to silence — was what made them fall in love with the you who spoke, who moved, who looked at them with open eyes through dreams.

It didn’t matter if you moved your target of hatred to them. Nanook’s love was unconditional and blind as his desire to seek destruction.

“My lord.” Nanook forced you into an embrace. Within their dreams, even when it was your domain, you felt as powerless as you did with Yaoshi. Their golden ichor bled unto your clothes.

They could see you. Your face, your entrancing features, just as he always had, just as he always wanted to. But it lacked a certain glow, a loss they attributed to Yaoshi digressions. Because they knew for certain that your love for them never disappeared. You were too benevolent, too magnanimous. “[Y/N]. My promise is soon to be fulfilled.”

“Every cage you have been trapped in will be gone.” Every cage but his love. Every chain but his arms.

“And you can finally feel the beauty of reality once more.”

A reality that was completely reset and build back up by them.

Translations:

Ad Somnum Pueri - Go to Sleep Child

In Somno In Infinitum - In Endless Dreams / Sleep

Mundus Erit Terminus - The World (shall) End.

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere nanook x reader #nanook x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere star rail

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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 17 days

Text

Orange Blossoms

Pairing: Buck x Y/N

Word Count: mmmmm I forgot to check and I’m lazy

Notes: Lets see if I actually write this!! I’m literally in the middle of Strawberries and Cream rn, it’s 5/15/24 (now) and I’m just…. Testing the waters with releasing the first chapter P.S I DID NOT EDIT THIS BEFORE POSTING I HATE MYSELF IM DOING IT RN

Chapter 1: Eddie is a Traitor

It was just supposed to be a normal Thursday. Go to work, fight some fires, harass Eddie, go home. Do it all over again the next day. That’s how it was every day and he liked it. Especially the people he worked with, that was his family.

He’s putting on a different work shirt when he looks up, a girl is standing there with her back to him holding a helmet in her hands. It’s sleek and pink. It’s got the most adorable cat ears on it too. He’s gotta take another look at it. As he walks she turns around, her hair flying over her shoulder.

It’s like he can hear wedding bells going off in his brain. He shortcircuits immediately as she starts walking towards him. He can hear the soft thud of her shoes, he’s surprised he thought angels had wings. She smiles pleasantly at him, the California sun creating a little halo behind her. Or he’s having a stroke he can’t tell.

“Hi I’m-” He sticks his hand out and Bobby suddenly steps in front of him

“No, you aren’t”

He knew that look. “Come on honey, I’ll introduce you to the others” you waved shyly at Buck as Bobby turned you around by your shoulders and steered you upstairs

Buck stood there, his hand still out as he watched Bobby march you up to Hen and Chimney. You giggled a little at the top of the stairs when you saw him still staring, a dumb look on his face

“You good?” Eddie gave him a high five as he walked by and Buck blinked slowly

“I think I’m in love”

Eddie snorted and bumped his side, pushing him out of the way so he could get to his locker

“Isn’t that like the fourth time this month you’ve said that? Who was it this time”

He melted on the spot, sighing dreamily and tilting his head to the side

“It’s…”

Eddie looked at him expectantly

“It’s uh…”

Eddie put his head against his locker, snickering into the metal

“You don’t remember?”

“I don’t think she said. I don’t think she had the chance”

“Why wouldn’t she have had the chance?”

“Bobby took her upstairs”

Eddie turned to look at him again. “Are you talking about a girl, about this tall” he holds his hand up midway to his chest “curly pink hair? Skin tanned to the gods”

“That’s my angel”

“Dude. That’s Athena’s niece”

It’s like he gets hit by a train and his entire world comes crashing down and really what even was the point in living anymore if he couldn’t have you? He might as well do a sweet flip off a cliff. At least he could go out in a cool way

“You do know how to backflip,” Eddie says as he shuts his locker

“Huh?” Buck looks at him now, a little dazed. A weird look on his face

“You were spiraling right? Because you think your life is over now”

“My life is over now!”

“No, it’s not.” He takes him by the arm and jogs upstairs, tapping the railing when they get up there. It catches your attention and you turn your head, your hands clasped sweetly in front of you.

Honestly, everything about you was sweet. From your soft pink hair, down to the white platform boots you had on. He liked the purple plaid skirt you had on. With a little purple beret and the matching purple cardigan. You looked like a doll, a very sweet, very cute, doll. God, you were too sweet for him

“Oh my god. Evan!” His name is shouted at him and he flinches back. Your hand is out towards him, and Eddie is standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders. Bobby has his arms crossed over his chest and Hen and Chim are looking at each other

“I said this is Y/N” Eddie sounds stressed and that makes Buck blush. He’d gotten lost in you all over again.

“Oh-oh. Uh Hi I’m, Bevan- no shit Barkley no-no god. Buck. I’m- my name is Evan I- I go by Buck. Hi.”

You’re giggling as he stumbles over his words and god he wishes you wouldn’t do that, it just sounds so cute and you’re making him flustered. Fuck usually he’s so smooth and flirty, what the hell gives??

“Hi Evan” You smile up at him and he swears he’s never seen anything or anyone so pretty

“You have pretty teeth,” He says dreamily as he’s shaking your hand. Eddie curses under his breath and you laugh, still shaking his hand

“T-thank you? Um. I brush twice a day!”

“Oh it shows!! it- it shows. You know that you uh-you take care of yourself and I mean- I could have said I liked your nail polish cause I do!!…it matches your clothes but no! No… I had to- I had to say your teeth”

You cover your mouth, trying to keep from laughing any harder. He’s so flustered and his cheeks are so pink and you feel a little bad. And he’s literally still shaking your hand. Eddie pulls your hand from his and slaps Buck’s down, giving him a “wtf” look over your head. Buck clears his throat and shoves his hands in his pockets

“Well! I gotta go fill the truck! You know gotta make it all nice and full of stuff that we need I’m just. I’m gonna go” He points down the stairs and goes running, you wave awkwardly at his retreating figure with a little smile on your face

“Uh bye! It was nice meeting you!!”

Buck walks out of the station, dumping the bucket of water out onto the pavement. He hadn’t seen you for most of the day and he was glad.

Okay not that glad, he wanted to stare at you all day, but at least he wasn’t acting like a dumbass anymore

“Sabrina Carpenter was right. I cannot find my chill. God her teeth?! Seriously??” He mutters to himself as he watches the water soak into the ground.

“Talking to yourself?”

You ask as you walk towards him, he spins around watching you walk over. God, even the way you walked, with all the confidence in the world was sexy as hell.

“Yeah” his voice cracks and you giggle when he lets his head fall back in embarrassment. Fuck was he actually 15 again

“Whatcha talkin' about?” He notices you’ve got a white mini backpack. It’s cute. God of course it matches your outfit

“Oh you know, your teeth” He visibly cringes and you slap your hand over your mouth trying to control your laughter

“Oh come on it wasn’t that bad”

“Yes. Yes, it was. You’re just being nice”

“I think it was a genuine compliment!” you protest as you stop in front of him. You’re so much shorter than he is, he just wants to put his hand on your head and ruffle your hair. He bets you’d hate that, but god it would be cute

“It was. A stupid one, but you know, you do have pretty teeth…and nails!” He smiles at you, his cheeks are pink and he’s flustered again but he’s outside and the sun is shining down on you and you’re glowing

“You have pretty teeth too,” You tell him, smiling and giving him a little wink “and a cute butt!”

His mouth drops as you walk past him with a smug little smirk “There! Now we both said something embarrassing!”

He watches you walk over to a pink motorcycle. It’s sexy and sleek and clearly customized. He watches you climb on and start to put on your helmet

“That’s yours?!” He asks as he jogs over. It’s a little big for you, but you obviously know what you’re doing

“Of course it is, what do you think?”

“Uh I think I want to be a passenger Princess one day that’s for damn sure” He gives your helmet a little tap with his knuckles

“Hope you have two of those”

You giggle and pick a couple pieces of fuzz from the inside of it and toss them aside

“Actually my white one is coming in today! Maybe I can come pick you up from work sometime and we can mess around”

“Really? That sounds so cool! He says, he’s forgotten a lot of his nerves now. Now you’re just a pretty girl on a pretty bike

“Yeah here, gimme your phone!”

He takes his phone from his pocket and you add your number, you hand it back and flip your hair over your shoulder

“Here, take a contact photo of me while I look cool”

He laughs and takes a few steps back while you put your helmet on and do a cute little pose, your head tilted with peace signs

He snaps the photo and sets it, and then he secretly sets it as his wallpaper too. He gives you a thumbs up and you make a call me sign. He fumbles his phone for a second before calling you

“You look so freaking cool” He says as soon as you answer, his cheeks flushing again.

“Why thank you”you giggle “Send me a picture of you later so I can have a contact photo for you!”

“Oh yeah okay sure! Uh-yeah”

“Can you do me one more favor?”

“Anything” He says it way too fast

“I forgot to get Eddie’s number, he invited me for drinks tonight but Uncle Bobby pulled me away too fast to get his number” you’re rolling your eyes at Bobby as Buck’s heart is shattering

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah sure I can do that. I’ll send it now…I gotta go finish mopping, I’ll see you whenever I suppose. Uh- Bye”

He hangs up before you can say anything and he awkwardly waves bye before running back into the station. He can hear your bike start up, he doesn’t stop hiding behind the doors until he hears you leave.

He’s not sending that number.

Ever.

Okay yes he is because he said he’d do anything but he’s gonna kill Eddie first so you two can’t go out.

He mopes all the way upstairs, stomping his feet until he gets over to the comfy chairs and flops down in it. He sinks down far into the seat and crossing his arms over his chest. He’s not talking to Eddie for as long as he lives

“Hey man you got a second”

“No”

He turns away and curls up his legs. He barely fits in the chair anymore and Eddie chuckles

“You poutin’?” Eddie pokes at his thigh

“No”

“Okay. Anyway have you seen Y/N I need to talk to her”

“No”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, walking over to stand in front of Buck

“Hey what’s goin on buddy?” His voice is softer this time, worried that something happened to him.

“Nothing”

Buck tries to curl up even tighter but this chair was not built for a man his size throwing a tantrum

“Buck come on just tell me what’s going on, please?”

“Leave me alone, Judas”

Eddie’s mouth pops open and he whacks his legs “What did I do?!”

“I said I didn’t wanna talk about it!” He snaps and Eddie rolls his eyes, he pulls Bucks legs and they fall easily. Now he’s just weirdly slumped and still not moving

“Buck. Just talk to me, you big fat baby”

“Why? So you can call your girlfriend?!” He gives him double middle fingers

“What girlfriend?!” Eddie asks, his eyes squinting

“Y/N! She wanted me to send her your number!”

“And have you?”

“No,, I hate you”

“Can you just do it?”

“Can your mom just do it”

“Okay you know what-“ Eddie attacks Buck, tickling his sides and Buck shrieks, falling off the chair and laughing as he and Eddie tumble to the floor, Eddie rips his phone from his pocket and opens it

“Oh my god does she know you made her your screensaver?”

He pins Buck and sends you his number, Buck fights his way from Eddie’s hold and punches him in the side, it’s not hard at all but knocks him off

“How dare you tickle attack me Edmundo Diaz! I thought we were friends”

“You called me Judas!”

“Because you are!!”

“No I'm not! Asshat! You didn’t even let me talk you just hated me!”

“Yeah because you asked my girl on a date!”

“She’s literally not your girl?? And also it’s not a date dumbass! I was going to ask you if you could come and if not reschedule with her! So you could have some time with her, and I could cover for you sounding like an idiot”

Buck gasps and slaps his cheeks, his eyes huge

“Eddieee” he whines and Eddie rolls his eyes, getting off the floor, Buck stands up with him and jumps on him, wrapping his arms and legs around him like a koala. He nearly knocks them over again

“You did that for meee?”

“I will drop your ass over the railing”

Buck isn’t sure what to wear so he brings a small mountain of clothes over to Eddie’s house in the form of a large suitcase. He heaves it onto Eddie’s bed and it pops open easily when he unzips it

“Do you know what she’s wearing?” Buck asks as he watches Eddie go through the suitcase

“No…” he mumbles distractedly as he sets aside a couple of shirts “But I can call her”

“Does she know I’m coming?” He twiddles his thumbs nervously, chewing his bottom lip. Eddie flicks his cheek and he stops, frowning at him

“Yeah she knows. But if you call her it’ll seem like you want to match”

“But if you call her it’ll seem like I asked you to ask for me”

“Damn you’ve got a point” Eddie sighs, holding the edge of the suitcase

“Is it just the three of us tonight?”

“Yeah…but I’ve got an idea” Eddie grabs his phone and texts Hen. He and Buck spend a few minutes going through the suitcase and organizing it before she calls

“Let me get this straight,” She says on speaker “You want me to pretend like I’m coming for drinks tonight, to find out what color Y/N is wearing so Buck can match her? And then I say oh Karen wanted to go on a date instead whoops can’t make it”

“Yes,” They say in unison

“...I’ll call you back”

Buck fist pumps and Eddie chuckles at him

“You really wanna impress her huh?”

“You know she said I could ride on her motorcycle?” Buck falls back on the bed, holding a pillow tightly to his chest

“Oh god she was so sexy when she got on that bike Eddie, I swear to god I nearly creamed my pants”

“Ew”

“She looked so, so badass. Which is crazy considering what she was wearing because at first I thought she looked like a doll you know-“

“Buck?” Eddie stares at his phone

“-And she still looked like a doll even on the bike but she went from a super cute doll to a-

“Buck” he looks up at him, waving his phone in front of his face

“-Super sexy doll. You know what I mean? God, she’s so versatile”

His phone pings and he picks it up “I wonder what she’s gonna-” He stares at the picture Eddie just sent him. You’re standing in front of a mirror with your little peace sign. You’ve got a black mini skirt on with a high slit on the thigh, a black strappy tank top with a corset front and a set of black platform boots. There’s a leather jacket hanging over your arm and a black heart shaped purse.

“Hen says she said she’s just gotta accessorize and then she’s done” Eddie’s voice is quiet, his jaw would still be on the floor if Buck’s wasn’t already. He starts going through the suitcase, trying to find something. Buck has good options. It’s just hard to be on your level. But they’re both gonna damn well try.

“I- I think I-“

“Buck I swear to god if you creamed your pants I’m gonna throw up”

They show up “fashionably late” to the bar. But really it’s just because after Buck finally recovered he changed at least seven times before they finally decided on the right outfit. He’s wearing a tight fitting black button down with a few of the buttons undone, because Eddie says it showcases his muscles the best and because having the sleeves quartered drives the ladies crazy. He’s got dark black jeans on and his work shoes, which are shined to the gods because in his rush to grab clothes he did not grab shoes.

They walk in together, with Eddie purposely wearing a little bit of a loser fitting and more relaxed kind of outfit, nice blue jeans, and a flannel. He wore his work shoes so it looks like they rushed but also didn’t rush. Effortlessly putting together a flawless outfit.

Nailed it.

“You think she’ll be mad we’re late” Buck’s voice cracks again and Eddie snorts

“No, she seemed perfectly fine. She’s over there” He points to the booth where you’re sitting, sipping on a fruity-looking drink.

He leads Buck over, they practiced this so Buck could sort of be revealed. It made sense when they did it at home

“Hey Y/N! Sorry we’re late” Eddie slides in on the opposite side of the booth and takes off his coat, putting it next to him so Buck is forced to sit by you…oh yeah it’s all going to plan

“Oh it’s okay! I was a little late myself so it all worked out!” You scoot over a little, patting the bench next to you. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes roll over his body, you bite your lip a little and look away, feeling your cheeks get hot

“You guys picked a cool place” you clear your throat as Buck sits next to you, putting his arm on the back of the booth to get comfy. He smells good, like the ocean and summer and a little smokey and god does he look good too.

“Actually it was Bucks's idea. You know what I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna order our drinks at the bar and bring them over” Eddie excuses himself, and the two of you are left alone. You turn your body to face Buck’s, and now it’s his turn for his eyes to roam over your body. You looked stunning in the picture but in person? That was a whole other ball game.

“You uh- you look pretty Y/N. It’s a really different style from earlier”

Your cheeks flush and you smile at him a bit shyly “Thanks, I like to wear a lot of different styles actually! It’s fun!” You scoot a little closer to him now, your knees touching

“You look super good to you know, you um-you clean up pretty well”

His heart is practically beating out of his chest as he watches you reach for your drink, taking a long slow sip. He notices your hands trembling and frowns

“Hey, are you okay?” He takes your hands, holding them gently “You’re shaking”

“Uh- I’m, I’m good I’m- I’m so” you pull your hands away quickly and reach for your drink again, he pushes it away a little and hooks your chin with his finger, making you look up at him. He’s staring into your eyes, but he looks worried as his firefighter's brain turns on

“Have you eaten anything? Your drink seems a little strong for an empty stomach, maybe I should go order you something”

You put your hands on his chest to make him sit back down “No! No that’s okay I’m fine! Uh- I’m- okay” you take a deep breath “Can I be honest with you?”

“You can tell me anything Y/N. I’m here for you” he turns your palms and kisses them before holding them to his chest to warm them up.

“Y-you’re making me nervous” you gulp and his eyes widen, his cheeks flush and he lets go of your hands

“Oh”

You cringe and he chuckles, scooting closer to you and putting his arm over your shoulders. His scent is intoxicating as it washes over you, the close proximity not helping the tiny buzz you’re getting.

“So what you’re saying is…I have pretty teeth”

You laugh loudly, your head falling back against his arm and you smack your hand over your mouth. He leans into your neck laughing with you and giving you a sweet kiss on your cheek

“Maybe I’ll make you flustered now” He winks and you roll your eyes, the light blush on your cheeks giving you away.

“You made me flustered when I met you this afternoon. You were just too in your head to notice. I could barely talk to you”

“I wish you’d made me shy like you were. But instead, you just make me stupid”

You giggle and lean into him “Sorry about that”

“S’okay doll, we ended up here together anyway right?”

Eddie comes back over with a tray, he’s got two drinks and a basket of cheese curds

“Hope you’re not lactose intolerant” he jokes and hands Buck his drink

“No actually, couldn’t keep me away from cheese even if I was though. Especially fried cheese”

Buck takes one from the basket and holds it up to your lips

“Let’s soak up some of that alcohol” he watches the way your lips part and your tongue comes out to accept the bite…he can just imagine it wrapped around something else other than a delicious cheese curd. He grunts and turns his head away when he feels Eddie kick him under the table for staring. He knows Eddie knows exactly what he was thinking

The rest of the night carries on wonderfully, you get to know both men as they tell stories about each other, trying to one up the other and it’s funny as hell. You’re hanging off of Buck by the end of the night just trying to keep yourself from getting kicked from the bar for how loudly you’re laughing. Eddie is laid on the seat, snorting into his coat and Buck is holding onto you tightly as he makes no sounds, trying to start breathing again.

Eventually you all catch your breath, and just lay there for a bit, still giggling. It’s amazing you’re the only one that’s slightly tipsy, the other two are just idiots and that makes you giggle more. Especially Eddie who was the designated driver. Buck gets up from the booth, helping you up. He catches you as you stumble into his chest, his cheeks burn red when you look up at him, a playful little look in your eyes. He can practically see the little devil horns on your head

Actually. He can.

“Have you been wearing these all night??” He pats the little headband and Eddie falls back in his seat laughing again. You crash into Bucks's chest, your face smooshed against the soft material of his shirt as you laugh

“Buck that’s the 6th time you’ve asked that. They came with her drink, the specialty of the month. Devil MAY care?? Remember the one the bartender came up with”

Buck and Eddie drop you off at Athena’s house and Buck walks you up to the door with his arm around you. He takes the keys from your hand and unlocks it for you before dropping them back in your open palm. He takes a few steps back and puts his hands in his pockets, you turn to look up at him, your hands clasped behind your back

“I had so much fun tonight. Maybe we can do something else this week? If you’re not busy”

“With just me?” He teases “I’ll see if Eddie is free! Maybe we can go bowling or something”

“If he’s not that’s okay- I mean. I wouldn’t mind being alone with you,”

Oh Eddie is definitely not coming.

“Alright Doll, sounds fun to me. I’ll call you and we can plan something with or without him” he wiggles his eyebrows as you giggle, and the way you giggle makes him want to kiss you. But he knows for a fact Athena’s got cameras.

“Well, I uh- I should go…Eddie is probably gettin' tired. You know him, big ole sleepy guy”

You shake your head, smiling at him “Yeah okay… I’ll see you soon?”

“Yup…soon” He walks backward carefully, watching you stand there “Go on, get inside cutie”

Hopefully, the cameras didn’t have sound.

You blush and give him that little wave of yours before turning around and going in

“Night Buck..”

“Night Doll”

He’s about to turn around when the door opens and you come running back out again, you pull him down to your height and kiss him on the cheek.

He was stunned, to say the least. He melts for you, his body going all jellied and limp. He hurries down the walkway as soon as you’re in the house safe and sound. He’s definitely got a skip in his step as he dances his way back to the car.

The next morning he’s just as happy as he was when he went to bed, he’s humming as he pours everyone a cup of coffee. Setting them all out on the table with the breakfast Eddie is setting out too. He’s just putting the silverware down when Bobby comes up the stairs, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Did you call my niece “cutie”

Okay, so the cameras did have sound.

#words by rhys #Rhys writes #buck x reader #evan buckley x reader #evan buck buckely #evan buckley #911 x reader #911 fanfic #9 1 1 abc #911 fox #eddie diaz #bobby nash #chimney han #hen wilson #Orange Blossoms

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space-noods · 1 month

Text

Boss Gojo Imagines

Boss! Gojo who has had flings with every assistant he’s had.

Boss! Gojo who as the CEO of the company was raised to be very weary of letting anyone close to him. Although he would bed many women, he had only a few he called friends.

Boss! Gojo who fired his last assistant after their short term rendezvous and is in need of a new one.

Boss! Gojo who, whilst procrastinating, decides he will conduct the interviews himself. He reasons that it would be easier to test the new secretary himself. See if they could maintain a professional relationship.

Boss! Gojo is tired going through the numerous interviews. Each person was qualified, many over qualified. But they were all boringgg.

Boss! Gojo who was about to resign for the day, until you showed up. Like your competitors, you wore a bright smile and held an impressive resume. Unlike them, you were nonchalant; as if you were meeting with a friend rather than competing for a highly coveted position in the elite Gojo company.

Boss! Gojo who was surprised at how easy the conversation flowed between the two of you. So much so, that he had spent at least 30 more minutes with you than every other applicant.

Boss! Gojo who can’t stop himself from asking,

“How are you so confident you’re going to get the job?”

You looked past him, scrunching your nose thinking.

“I’m not confident at all. Honestly, I only applied on a whim. I guess since I have no hope, I have nothing to lose, right?

This type of thinking was such a breathe of fresh air for him. In the rigid society he was born to, every action had to calculated. Every conversation meticulously planned out. Nothing was organic. Nothing was natural. And here you were, smiles and all, taking a chance without considering the risk.

You had an email for you that same day.

Boss! Gojo who isn’t surprised by your work ethic. Anyone who made it so far into the application process was a a good worker. But he was surprised about your energy. You managed to maintain a positive and almost carefree vibe despite the stress and tribulations.

At first, he was obviously drawn to your personality, but what really impacted him, was how quick you acclimated to him and his personality. By the end of the month, you had learned his favorite snacks, how he likes his coffee (if it could be considered coffee after how much sugar is put into it), and his habits. When he felt clingy, you let him cling to you. When he felt withdrawn, you gave him space. It felt like you were made for him. This was the first time in a while someone was so attentive to him. The first time in a while where he felt seen.

Boss! Gojo who treats you like a hidden snack. Anytime he’s overloaded with work, he’ll seek you out to indulge in your sweetness.

Boss! Gojo who demands you meet with him once an hour. He claims that it’s for check-ins, but really he just wants to see you.

Boss! Gojo who was already an affectionate and touchy person. This has somehow doubled when you started working. He would use you as an arm rest, lay his head on your shoulder, hold you by your waist. Anything to get his hands on you. You were like an actual plush toy to him. Any time you two had to attend meetings, you would be confused as his girlfriend instead of his secretary.

When Shoko first saw you and him, she had assumed that you two had already hooked up. She was pleasantly surprised to hear Satoru deny the claim. When she questioned if he’s been having any sex recently, the loving gaze he sent your way was enough of an answer for her. It was weird. In just a couple months, you had changed Satoru completely. She even noticed that the two of you were on first name basis. When you walked back, you had a cocktail in hand for yourself and a mocktail for Gojo. Shoko couldn’t help but roll her eyes at how intimately you two behaved.

Boss! Gojo who secretly started increasing your wage. While you never complained about your finances, he was aware of your recent graduation and history of low wage jobs. He wanted to make sure that this would be the best paying job you’ve had. Not only would it make you happier, it would also make you less likely to quit.

Boss! Gojo who hates seeing you tired, but can’t stop himself from forcing you to work overtime. Especially when you both would fall asleep in the office. Waking up to see you was the greatest feeling in the world. Unfortunately, the extreme guilt of making you work overtime would weigh heavy on him, so he would forced you to go home.

Boss! Gojo who seethes seeing how close you’ve gotten with the other workers. The same charismatic nature that attracted him was now attracting others. And he hated that too.

Boss! Gojo who demands you start eating lunch at his office. To make up for the ‘inconvenience’ he buys the most extravagant and excessive lunches. You often get sent home with all the leftovers.

Boss! Gojo who has become inseparable from you. Your office was moved into his, you would join him on every retreat. Sometimes he would even send you accessories so that you could match with him. Your phone and his sharing a matching home screen.

When he first started showering you with presents, you denied them excessively. As the days went on, you would accept them and return them by the end of the day. Satoru would, of course return it to your desk, only to find it in his own the next morning. The game of give and return would go on for days until he had you walk into his office where he would put the necklace/ accessory in you and pour until you finally accept it.

He was immensely endeared to you when he found a homemade phone chain on his desk with a little note. He was almost start struck when he saw you had a matching one. This snowballed into a fascination with matching between him and you.

Boss! Gojo who notices immediately when you don’t show up for work one day. Instead of you sitting pretty at your desk, it was Ijichi. Now don’t get Gojo wrong, he also likes Ijichi. But not seeing you there was almost painful. His entire schedule and demeanor relied on you. On your smile, your banter, your everything. He needed you. At these thoughts, Satoru felt a burning pain right where his heart was. Why was he acting like this. Why have you made him so dependent? All at once, the memories of everything he did with you flooded his brain. The matching, the jokes, the smiles. He was undeniably obsessed with you.

Gojo Satoru was in love with his secretary.

Epilogue

During his epiphany, you sent him a little text explaining your absence, you had randomly gotten sick over the weekend and couldn’t make it to work. You asked him not to worry and that you would be better by tomorrow. By the time you sent that second text in, Satoru had already put you in for a week of absence and was making his way to your house, hands full of medication and sweets.

_________________________________________________

Notes:

Thanks everyone for reading! This was the winner of the poll! I hope everyone enjoys it! I’m not an amazing writer and I really struggle keeping things concise lol so I hope this wasn’t a total snooze fest.

I know when relationships like Boss and worker are written about, they tend to be a lot… steamier for lack of a better word. I really did try, but I also really liked the childish swooning thing Satoru had going on. Idk maybe one day I’ll try again 🤔

Not edited btw! Pls ignore any small mistakes!

#jjk x y/n #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk x reader #x reader #reader insert #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #drabble #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk shoko #imagine

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lunaflowers · 9 months

Text

and now you're mine (yandere!kai)

pairing: yandere!kai x reader word count: 3.6k genre: smut, angst, yandere warnings: yandere behavior, extremely dubious consent, noona kink, piv, yn has issues, references to stalking, kind of switch leaning dom kai?, some pussy eating, drugging, obsession, mental manipulation, dirty talk, a bit of mommy kink, kidnapping, some degradation and name calling

synopsis: kai has finally got you right where he wants you a/n: this is a yandere story, meaning it contains many dark elements. please heed the warnings and don't read this fic if this type of content makes you uncomfortable. i do not condone the behavior exhibited in this fic and i don't believe the member featured would either.

☆*: .｡. o🖤o .｡.:*☆

It wasn’t that you weren’t attracted to Kai, you definitely were. His extraordinarily handsome face with those full lips and strong jawline combined with his perfect body would’ve made you swoon at any other time but right now you just weren’t in the headspace for it. You’d just been dumped by your long term boyfriend (after you’d caught him cheating) a few weeks ago and your friends had pressured you to go on this date to get you out of the funk you’d been in since then. You had always had terrible luck with men and you were honestly on the verge of giving up on the male sex altogether. “The best way to get over a man is to get under another one,” your best friend had said, her best effort to convince you to meet Kai.

“Noona, what’s going on? Do you not feel well?” Kai looked at you concerned from across the table, his forehead kneaded and his lips in a slight pout. You must’ve zoned out while he was talking and you felt horrible as soon as you realised. You didn’t know Kai very well seeing as he was a co-worker of your friend’s but he seemed super sweet and he didn’t deserve to be treated like this.

“I’m sorry, Kai,” you said, giving him a small smile. “I’m just not feeling up for this. It’s nothing to do with you, I promise. You’ve been wonderful. I’m just not ready to date again and I shouldn’t have let myself be pressured into this. I’ve wasted both of our time. I should leave.”

You waited for his reaction and to your surprise he didn’t look angry or annoyed like most men would. Instead he gave you a smile and replied, “It’s okay. I understand. How about we have one more drink and then I take you home?”

You were relieved at his words but truthfully, you didn’t want to stay for one more drink. You wanted to go home, get into bed, and maybe watch Netflix before passing out, but you felt like it was the least you could do for him for being so understanding.

As the waitress brought the two of you another rum and coke each, you eyed Kai up and down. You definitely would’ve been all for this if you weren’t so hung up on your ex. You sipped your drink and continued chatting pleasantly with Kai. It wasn’t until about half way through your last drink that you began to feel a little woozy. You rested your head in your hands and closed your eyes, trying to keep your breathing even.

“Noona? What’s wrong?”

“I’m okay. I just probably shouldn’t have had that last drink. I really need to go now.” You tried to stand up, but a wave of dizziness made you sit right back down again.

“It’s okay,” Kai said, his voice soft and reassuring. “I’ll get you home.”

Kai got up and walked over to you. He gently helped you into a standing position. He had his arm around you and you were leaning almost your entire body weight on to him. He led you out of the bar and down the street.

“Kai,” you said, a bit sluggishly, “I live the other way.”

“I’m taking you to my place. It’s way nearer. Just until you sober up.”

You weren’t really in any type of position to argue so you allowed Kai to guide you to his apartment which was surprisingly close, just a few short minutes away. It was a walk up, above a shabby Thai restaurant and Kai had to carry you up the stairs. As soon as you got into his apartment, he sat you down on the couch. You were feeling worse than ever, not even able to take in the sparse surroundings, dizzy as well as sleepy.

Before you could say a word, Kai handed you a glass of water. You didn’t even know when he’d gotten it. “Drink up. This should help.”

You chugged half the glass of water down at once, feeling surprisingly thirsty as soon as he handed it to you. And he was right, drinking it did make you feel slightly better. “Thanks Kai. I really owe you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m not usually such a lightweight.” You looked up at him from under your eyelashes and he was wearing an unreadable expression on his face. You raised the glass of water to your lips again but Kai pulled it away from you, spilling some in the process.

“That’s enough,” Kai said, and you looked up at him in confusion. “Actually, noona, I’m kind of mad at you,” he said, to your surprise.

“What? Mad?”

“Yeah,” he set the half empty glass on the coffee table loudly. “I was really looking forward to tonight and you couldn’t even stop obsessing over that loser ex of yours long enough to give me a real shot.”

“I’m sorry?” You were completely baffled at what was coming out of his mouth. You wondered if you were maybe misunderstanding what he was saying. Why would he be acting like this?

“It was rude, noona. You were rude to me. I think you owe me a proper apology.”

Your head still felt heavy but you felt weirdly alert now. You knew that you were in an unsafe situation and all you wanted to do was get out of here. “I’m sorry, Kai. I should’ve been more respectful of your time. It was rude of me, like you said. I should leave now and not waste even more of your time. I’ll just call a cab and get out of here… Wait, where’s my phone?”

You looked around yourself and couldn’t find it. You couldn’t see your purse either. Had he taken them? Kai knelt down in front of you and grabbed your jaw gently, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“Words mean nothing. You need to show me how sorry you are.” Kai said.

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. “How would I do that?”

“You’re a smart woman. I know you know what I want.” As he said this, his eyes wandered over your body and you felt utterly disgusted at the realisation that hit you.

“I’m not going to fuck you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Are you insane?”

“Noona,” Kai said with a sigh, “I’m not going to let you leave here until you give me what I want.”

Your anger got the better of you and you slapped him across the face but he barely flinched. You realised now that he must’ve put something in that last drink of yours so that you would end up here with him, unable to fight back. The lethargy from whatever he’d drugged you with had made it so you couldn’t even defend yourself.

The slap seemed to have amused him and annoyed him simultaneously. He grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you down on the couch, getting on top of you. “You know what your problem is, noona? You’re a snob.”

“No…” you tried to protest but Kai covered your mouth with his hand, shutting you up.

“You are. You think you’re too good for me,” he said, almost sadly, his pout prominent. “Why? Is it because you make more money than me? Because I don’t live in a nice apartment like you? Because you’re older than me?”

He lifted his hand off your mouth and looked at you like he really wanted a response. “I don’t think I’m better than you, Kai, I swear. I’m just tired and want to go home.”

“Liar. And you’re not going home yet. I’m going to make you feel so good, I promise. Not that you deserve it.”

“Stop it, Kai,” you protested, but he didn’t seem to care. He had already pushed his hand up your dress and underneath your panties. As he touched your cunt, you both gasped.

“Hairless,” he said, smirking. “See? You wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t want me. But it’s okay noona, I don’t mind if you don’t wax either.”

He was talking like a crazy person. You had no idea that Kai was like this and you were getting more frightened by each passing second.

You slapped him again and this time he pinned your hand down, looking at you with those doe eyes. “I don’t like that. Please don’t make me hurt you. I really, really don’t want to hurt you. I only want to make you feel good. Okay?” He bent down and kissed you on the cheek, moving his way to your lips. You turned your head away and he grabbed you by the jaw again and forced a kiss on your mouth. Tears sprang to your eyes and you blinked them away. You didn’t want to show that kind of weakness in front of Kai.

“Don’t fight me,” he said gently. He had softened considerably from earlier as though he really was trying to keep you calm now. “Please.” He began pulling at your dress, trying to take it off.

“Noo… Please,” you begged, but your protests fell on deaf ears. Kai was so singularly determined to have you it seemed that there was nothing that you could do or say that was going to stop him. It was exhausting. You didn’t feel like fighting anymore. He was just too big and too strong and you were so tired. It was just so much easier to surrender to his will. You let him pull off your dress, leaving you in only your bra and panties sprawled out on his couch.

Kai looked you up and down and whistled, his lopsided smile coming over his features. “You’re even more beautiful than I thought you’d be. I don’t know how that’s possible.” He leaned down and kissed you again on the lips, more passionately this time, and you didn’t resist him. Despite your reservations, Kai was an excellent kisser and it felt good to be kissed again, to be desired again. You kissed him back automatically.

“Just be gentle with me, okay?” You said, as he broke the kiss.

He looked at you with eyes that were full of lust and you felt yourself clench involuntarily. Kai was undeniably sexy and as much as you hated yourself for it, you felt yourself growing wetter by the second. The panties you were wearing were white cotton, certainly not your sexiest, but they were already soaked through to the point that Kai could see your pussy.

He felt his cock twitch in his pants and it was all he could do not to devour you then and there. He’d been fantasising about this moment for so long, stroking his cock as he did so. Now that you were really here, almost naked underneath him, he thought he was going to burst. He knew he needed to calm down before he entered you. The idea of cumming his pants now that he was finally going to have you would be too humiliating to bear. Besides, he’d promised he’d make you feel good.

Kai took a few breaths, trying to think neutral thoughts while unhooking your bra and taking it off. He thought of what he’d eaten for breakfast that morning, about washing the dishes and putting them away, anything other than how fucking delicious you looked right now. Slowly, he pulled down your panties, savouring the moment your cunt was truly revealed to him.

As soon as he saw it, he knew he had to taste you. He couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to. He threw your panties to the ground and held your legs open. He leaned down and latched his mouth onto your cunt, giving your clit a lick. You squirmed as he did this but his grip on your legs kept them wide open.

“You taste so fucking good,” he said, licking his bottom lip. “Here, taste.” He kissed you on the mouth so you could taste your own arousal on his tongue. It was so erotic, tasting yourself mixed with his saliva. Kai made his way down your neck and to your breasts, biting and sucking on the way, being sure to leave marks. When he got to your nipple, he drew a circle on it with his tongue before beginning to suck on it as well. As his teeth grazed your areola, you yelped in pain but he didn’t stop. He bit it, just hard enough for you to yelp again.

“Kai… That hurts…” you moaned out.

“But you like it,” he smirked.

You did. Kai knew you more than you thought he could and you weren’t sure if you were alarmed or aroused by the thought of it.

“I need to fuck you now, noona,” Kai said suddenly, like he couldn’t hold back anymore. He took off his shirt to reveal his perfectly chiselled body and you couldn’t help but bite your lip a little. Fuck, he was sexy. He stood up to pull off his pants and underwear, and you admired his gorgeous body. Why did you have to find him so damn attractive?

He took his cock in his hand and gave it a few strokes. He was already rock hard but was getting himself ready for you. He knelt down between your legs and used his cock to tease your pussy lips, savouring the feel of the wetness on his tip.

“You want me to put it in?” He asked, making eye contact with you. He wanted you to want it, to beg for it, even.

“Yes please, Kai,” you replied, spreading your legs open further to his delight. “I want your cock so bad. Please put it in.”

He grinned as pushed himself into you slowly, eliciting a moan from you both. God, he just felt so good filling you up. Hearing you moan with pleasure from something he was doing almost enough to make him cum right there on the spot but he was able to hold firm, closing his eyes and going through the inane motions of his day again. He began moving within you, slowly, hoping to build up a steady pace that wasn’t too much for him.

“Feels good,” you moaned. Kai just felt so in tune with your body in a way that no one had ever been before, certainly not your ex.

“Yeah, you like it?” He asked, continuing to fuck you while he kissed your jawline. “You’re such a greedy fucking girl, noona…”

You giggled and put your hand in Kai’s hair, grabbing and tugging it a little so that he looked up at you. “You better make me cum tonight or you’re never going to get to fuck me again, baby.”

He raised his eyebrows at your challenge. “I don’t think it’ll be too hard. You’re literally gushing for me. You want me as much as I want you.” He used one hand to reach down and slowly begin playing with your clit, causing you to gasp. “I own this pussy already.”

You moaned in pleasure as he continued to rub your clit, the feeling of his cock pounding away inside you while his fingers were on your sweet spot was enough to almost push you over the edge. Kai, seemingly sensing this, stopped his ministrations, holding himself still.

“Kai!” You exclaimed, half frustrated and half amused. “I was close.”

“No way, noona. You can’t make it that easy for me.” He pulled out of you and sat down beside you on the couch, his back against the sofa cushions. “Get on top of me. I’m gonna make you work to cum.”

Annoyed, you did as he said. Straddling him, you took his length in your hand and lined it up with your entrance. This time it was your turn to tease him, lowering yourself onto him halfway and clenching. Kai grabbed your hips and forced you down onto him, while thrusting his own hips up into you. He looked almost irritated. “Don’t fucking tease me,” he said. It was jarring how he seemed to go back and forth between playful and serious. “You’re going to cum all over my cock like the good little slut you are… My slut,” he added.

You reached down and grabbed his shoulders for purchase. You bounced on his cock while he grabbed your ass. “Yes Kai, I’m your slut,” you whined out breathlessly. As crazy as it sounded after everything that had happened that night, you wanted to be his, to be owned by him. Being with him felt right and safe. He grabbed you and kissed you again and you moaned into his mouth.

“That’s right. Mine. Tell me how much you love it.”

“I love being your slut, Kai…” you moaned.

“And I’m the best you’ve ever had, right? You’ve never been fucked so good before, have you?”

“Never.”

You could feel your orgasm getting closer and it was making you desperate, you babbled incoherently about how much you loved his cock, how much you loved getting fucked by him, how you wanted him to own your body. “I’m gonna cum, Kai, please, please let me cum this time.”

“Of course, noona, you’ve been such a good girl,” Kai replied. “Cum for me,” he said, nipping at your jawline while fingering your clit.

It only took a few seconds to push you over the edge. The orgasm wracked your entire body as you let out an,”Oh my god, Kai!”

Watching you cum for him, and on him, felt like it was going to make him crazy. He used his strength to keep fucking up into you even as you came down from your orgasm. He was going to cum and he wanted to, no, he had to, do it inside you. He would ask your permission, but it didn’t matter what you said, he knew he was going to do it anyway.

“Noona… I’m gonna cum too… Won’t you let me cum inside your pretty pussy? Please?”

You panicked a little. You weren’t on any type of birth control and you knew that you were due your period in about two weeks, so it was likely a dangerous time for this.

“No, Kai… It’s not safe… Not tonight. Next time,” you replied gently, trying to climb up off his cock but he held you on to it firmly.

“Please, noona,” he said, his voice coming out with a whine. “Please… I’ve been such a good boy, haven’t I? I made you feel good, right? Haven’t I been such a good boy for you, mommy?”

Mommy. No one had ever called you that before. You hadn’t expected it, but the use of that word did something to you. You felt yourself clench.

“Yes, baby. You’ve been such a good boy,” you relented, grabbing his face and kissing him on the cheek. You whispered into his ear, “Cum inside mommy.”

With that Kai flipped you on your back while you were still on his cock. He was on top of you now and he sped his pace up, releasing himself inside you with a groan. He collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily.

After a few seconds, the two of you readjusted yourselves on the couch so that Kai was laying flat on his back on the couch while you were laying on your side beside him, half on top of him. You laid your head on his chest, feeling his heart pounding inside of it.

“You know what this means, right?” Kai said, running a hand in your hair.

“Mmm? What does it mean, baby?” You were on the verge of falling asleep at that moment but you forced yourself to stay awake.

“You belong to me now. No one else can touch you ever again.”

“Is that right?” You asked with a sleepy giggle. “And what if I don’t agree to this?” You looked up at him, batting your lashes.

He shrugged. “It’s not really up to you.”

“So what? You make my decisions for me now?”

Kai smirked but said nothing, kissing you on the forehead.

You opened your mouth to argue but then shut it again. To be honest, you were exhausted and what he was proposing didn’t sound so bad at the moment. It would be nice to be able to not think and put all your responsibilities on Kai.

You closed your eyes and fell asleep quickly. Kai slipped out from underneath you, careful not to wake you. He picked you up and carried you bridal style to his small bedroom where he put you down on his bed. He smiled to himself at how deep a sleeper you were, you hadn’t moved a muscle when he moved you. He covered you in a blanket and planted a kiss on your cheek before putting on some pajama bottoms and making his way on to the balcony to smoke a cigarette.

Everything had gone perfectly tonight and he couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. You were his, you hadn’t even argued. All those months of watching you and waiting, convincing your friend to set the two of you up had finally paid off. Tomorrow he’d take you to a secluded house in the forest where he could truly keep you all to himself. He didn’t want you to look at anyone else and he didn’t want anyone else to look at you either. Everything was set up there, the locks on the doors and windows so you couldn’t escape even if you decided you had regrets.

Kai put his cigarette out and tossed it over the balcony. He watched it flicker for a few seconds on the cement below before dying completely, excitedly thinking about what the next day would bring.

☆*: .｡. o🖤o .｡.:*☆

#kim jongin smut #kim jongin #kim jongin x reader #kai smut #exo kai #kai x reader #yandere jongin #yandere kai #yandere exo #yandere kpop #yandere smut #exo fanfic #yandere fanfiction #yandere x reader #yandere x you #kim jongin fanfiction #kai fanfic

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blues824 · 1 year

Note

Can we get the TWST dormleaders with an S/O that is a FBI agent for the BAU? I enjoyed reading the one with the Obey Me brothers!

My search history looks like I’m committing every single crime to every single degree. But, this fic is a victory for Yuu/YN/Mc, and you’ll see why.

Riddle Rosehearts

He is definitely intrigued, since you don’t seem phased by your chosen profession. You’ve been faced with actual serial killers to try and find the motive as to why they did what they did, and you don’t seem to be affected mentally or emotionally.

What freaked him out was during a small date between the two of you in the labyrinth. You both were taking a small break for tea, when you told him that one of the leading reasons for homicide was because the perpetrator had suffered through too much abuse.

That’s when he realized that he might want to consider therapy, since he is one step away from actually killing someone. After living with his mother for the 17 years of his life, he doesn’t want to risk hurting you because of a psychotic break.

Leona Kingscholar

He didn’t care at first, until you started digging into the issues within everyone. You told him that jealousy was one of the leading motives for murder, and you tried to make a light-hearted joke about him being one step away from just offing his brother.

Well now he’s really looking at and assessing himself to see if he needs to go to counseling because you were right: he was one step and a psychotic break away from just killing the monarch of the Sunset Savannah because he was tired of being seen as #2.

You give him an overall summary that everyone at NRC already has a motive for committing a serial crime, so now he’s definitely concerned. Mans will stray as far away from anyone (*cough cough* Malleus *cough cough*) since they’re all ticking time bombs.

Azul Ashengrotto

For someone in your profession, you seem calm. It does make sense, however, since if the person you’re assessing can get under your skin then that wouldn’t be any good. You still terrify him though, since you fly through NRC with ease.

You were unsettling and intimidating to him, even though you were very polite and courteous. It was during a Housewarden meeting where you brought it up to Crowley that he might want to consider investing in a school counselor. Azul was genuinely frightened when you explained that everyone was a pin’s drop away from killing a peer, and the Headmage couldn’t argue against you since you were a professional.

Well, the campus has been more stress-free because they now have the option to talk with a different professional rather than dumping all of their issues on you. Even the sneaky cecaelia himself went to counseling and felt a large burden being lifted off of his shoulders.

Kalim Al-Asim

He honestly didn’t know what a BAU agent was until you told him that you basically found the reason why someone committed a federal/serial crime. Then he was very worried about how you survived for this long.

This man would one day ask if you could read his psyche, and he was pleasantly surprised. He was one of the most mentally stable people on campus, but then you told him that Jamil was one step away from going batshit.

Your efforts in trying to establish a system of mental and emotional support paid off, and Kalim took part in funding it. You both made a huge difference and now there is a school counselor at Night Raven College.

Vil Schoenheit

He’s only heard of the occupation through films, so as he does your makeup he will ask you more questions about it since movies don’t always get it right. This man’s eyes went wide when you told him how you had to sit with federal criminals and try and evaluate them to determine their motives.

So, what you were saying is that you constantly put yourself in danger by sitting with criminals who could attack you at any point? Oh, no. This wouldn’t do at all. All he can say is that he’s glad you’re here and not risking yourself for your job (don’t let him hear about the field operations of the FBI).

Then, you made the mistake of telling him that since he’s constantly jealous of Neige, he’s only a few steps away from just ending either himself or the Snow White look-alike. He’ll be right back, he’s booking a therapy session right now.

Idia Shroud

He’s also only heard of your job through movies, so when he gets more comfortable around you he is asking questions left and right. Instead of being appalled, he’s intrigued as to the most common motives that you’ve seen.

Mans could listen to you until his ears bleed. Idia comes from a family that studies blot, which is accumulated through strong emotions. So, aside from the obvious, the jobs you two had were more similar than one would think.

This man also supported you in getting Crowley to establish a system of support for the students, but he didn’t help financially. He helped by making a threat to the old crow and told him that if he didn’t, he would use his family’s influence to link the bird not hiring a school counselor to the overblots.

Malleus Draconia

He didn’t know anything about your job until you brought it up during one of your nightly walks. He tried to keep calm as you told him that you were constantly put up against federal criminals to try and find the motive behind their crimes, but it was taking all of his willpower.

The Prince found it interesting, sure, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your mental or even physical health. He was angry that your employers would put all of this responsibility on you, but you assured that the more dangerous people were put in a straight jacket. That totally made him feel better.

You teach him about the power that emotional support can have, and he helps establish a system at NRC. Since he is one of the five most powerful mages, Crowley couldn’t exactly refuse. He can see the difference that you made, and he congratulates you by giving you a rose on one of your walks.

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pokegalla · 5 months

Text

Heeeey.

Surpriiiiise!!!✨

Yes I finally made some headcanons.

I know a lot of people have been wanting some headcanons but please read my pinned post before requesting? I will also put a link to it on this post. Thank you and enjoy the headcanons!

Trade/Request by @tryslogic

I owe them this one✨

Warning: Slight nsfw? Also it can be masc or fem with the ecto body. It’s up to your personal preference/interpretation honestly-

How would these skellies react to their S/o using their chest for hand warmers?

Killer:

* At first he was like, “Babe. I’m all bones. It ain’t gonna work silly~✨” but then he realized you meant his Ecto chest. To which he immediately teases you for being a little perv (the irony and AUDACITY of this man-)

* But ok ok he honestly doesn’t mind and summons it anyway! Well….while still being a tease with that shit eating grin. He even lifted his shirt just a tiiiiny bit to show off his Ecto. “Come warm yourself up cutie~” please bonk his head. He deserves it-

* But his red Ecto looks quite pretty! Like a shiny ruby! Kinda hard to stay mad when he’s flaunting off that waist. (He’s pretty and he knows it-)

* Once you do put those freezing hands there, he does jump a little as he didn’t expect you to be THAT cold. Ooooo but it was too warm to ignore✨ you had to give the booba a squeeze and for a bonus revenge. Which hilariously makes him squeak a little-

* Oop but now he’s giggling and looking back at you with a look of pure mischief. Better run because he’s putting those ice cold Skellie hands on YOUR chest now. And cold bones feel like death💦

* At least you both get a good laugh in! It’s always expected when you’re with Killer!

Lust:

* The offer was actually something he suggested as a joke. A flirty joke but he didn’t think you’d follow through with it. He’ll be pleasantly surprised and tease you for being so bold in trying to cop a feel~✨

* All jokes aside, he summons his Ecto for you! “Must be that cold hm~? No worries….I’ll warm you right up~” makes you question if he’s flirting or joking. Might be both if you’re lucky~

* His ecto is a lovely shade of lavender and quite curvy in general. It’s quite the attention grabber without him even trying. Will be very flattered if you praise him!

* Ah but he has the cutest reactions when he feels your cold hands. He’d do a little squeal and giggle from the surprise coldness. And squeezing the chest makes him laugh even more. He knew you were messing with him but dammit it was working.

* He’s not used to being held though without uh….yknow. “Favors” in return. But you being all cuddled up to him just unlocked him to a world of affection✨

* He couldn’t stop smiling even when you both dozed off.

Blue:

* Honestly at first he had no idea what the hell you asked him for- buuuut when shown an example? A blushing lil blueberry. Sure you didn’t mean TOO much harm in saying that but gosh how bold of you to ask this of him!

* But huh?! No he’s not scared! The magnificent Blue will not back down! Just….give him a minute to hype himself up💦 and try not to die of embarrassment-

* His Ecto is like a blue ocean in a tropical climate. It’s quite the sight to see. Best part? He had the perfect mix of muscle and a little fluff. Extremely comfy-

* He is just cute to begin with. But look at him now, getting all flustered✨ though he was more worried about how cold you were and poor thing was ready to buy you gloves and everything. But he lets out a loud “MWEH?!” Upon feeling you give him a few squeezes.

* He’d giggle just to turn around and give you a big ol hug! “Oh you tease! Come on….lets cuddle on the couch and drink hot chocolate together!”

* Ah what would you do without him?

Fell:

* Deadass he thought you was joking. He even laughed and went to see if you were laughing. Wait….seriously? You wanna do THAT??? “Well damn shouldn’t yah take me tah dinner first-?”

* He was stalling at this point but enough begging will finally make him crumble and give in. You are so lucky he likes you and so on with his grumbling and mumbling.

* His ecto reminds you of a garnet due to the much darker tones along the edges (*Ahem* Fits him because he’s a edgelord *Ahem-*) plus he’s a lil chunky. He’s so soft 🥹

* Oh man but as tough as he tries to act, he immediately shrieks feeling your hands- “ARE YAH FUCKING DYING?! WHY ARE YAH SO DAMN COLD?!” Then you squeezing him just makes him blush all over-

* Yeah he’s definitely getting you a scarf, gloves, and extra jackets and sweaters. Buuuuut…..he still said his chest was still an option if that’s not enough.

* Ah he’s a sucker….and a sucker only to you.

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qveerthe0ry · 4 months

Text

Lions Ain't the Kind - Part One

Summary: Frankie hasn't dated in years, but now he knows what he's looking for. He's just not so good at asking for what he wants, and you're willing to help him work on it. Word Count: 8,156 Pairing: Frankie Morales x NB/Gender-fluid! AFAB! Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, subby!Frankie, soft dom! reader, talks about gender non-conformity, sickening fluff, Frankie is way too cute and sweet for his own good, kissing, making out, handjob (m receiving), anal fingering (m receiving), dirty talk, Frankie has a praise kink, no use of y/n, no physical descriptions of reader Beta: @perotovar (my angel ilysm) A/N: Sorry for talking about this for a month straight without posting it lol! The title is from the song (Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear by Elvis Presley which I admittedly haven't listened to but I saw the lyrics and knew immediately it was my Frankie. I hope you enjoy, and I'm always open to criticism and thoughts and thots!

Frankie hasn’t dated in years. He hasn’t really had the time, between his first child being born and navigating co-parenting with his ex, along with healing some very deep trauma and getting and staying clean.

It just hasn’t been on his mind, if he’s honest. He’s been busy finding himself, as Pope calls it. And he’s not wrong. It’s taken a long while for him to be comfortable in his own skin, to come to terms with the things he’s done and the baggage he can now store in an overhead bin, rather than carry it around with him at all times.

But now, he’s ready. He knows himself, and as a result, he knows what he’s looking for.

Someone kind-hearted and down to earth. Someone who’s independent and established, but not just looking for a hookup. Someone with a sweet smile and a desire for enjoying the little things in life.

Someone like you.

He’d swiped right and left dozens of times on men and women alike, but as soon as he saw your profile on whatever dating app he’d downloaded, he was hooked.

You were gorgeous. He felt the heat from your smile through his phone screen, so happy and genuine and sweet.

You were funny, the answers to those weird icebreaker questions full of witty remarks.

You were smart, clearly, from your shoutout to your alma matter and the ‘boring’ job you mentioned in your profile.

He honestly figured he had no chance at all. His face is only getting more wrinkly, and his hair more gray, and he’s never been the sharpest or funniest guy in the room.

So when he swiped left and you matched, he was stunned. He was even more shocked when you messaged him before he could even think of what to say to you.

Hi cutie 🥰

Despite the fact that he was home alone on his couch, he had the sudden urge to look behind him, as if you’d be talking to someone else. The back of his neck got so warm, and your boldness only made him more into you.

So he messaged you back

Hi :) how are you?

I’m surprised we matched, honestly. Pleasantly surprised 😊

Same here :) Why the surprise though? I’m sure you match with everyone

Not at all, it’s hard to find people whose type I am on here. I usually use the queer dating apps but I opened this one out of boredom. What are the chances?

What are the chances, indeed, Frankie thinks, as he gives your profile another look over. Frankie doesn’t understand how you aren’t everyone’s type. He feels a little bit like he’s talking to a celebrity, looking at your pictures and just a snippet of who you are on this reductive dating app.

I like the odds :)

——

As your conversation continues normally over the next few days, Frankie learns a lot about you. He also learns a lot about himself.

It’s been so long since he’s played the field, so to speak, that he’s rusty as all hell and a bit awkward. He’s afraid to flirt too much, every message deleted and re-written at the risk of sounding too cheesy or too forward or too much.

You aren’t afraid to flirt. You send ‘good morning, handsome’ and ‘sweet dreams, pretty boy’ texts every day and night. You tell him your day would be better if you could cuddle someone, you tell him when you’re taking a relaxing bath that you wished he were there to join you.

And to say that Frankie likes it is a massive fucking understatement.

He adores it, he thinks about you constantly, all day long while he works without access to his phone, all evening long while he waits on your replies, all night long, when you’ve bid each other goodnight out of nothing but courtesy for each other’s sleep schedules.

You lead him along like a timid puppy on a leash, showing him new things with patience and care and it drives him insane. He wants to meet up with you so bad, or even just call you on the phone to hear your voice. He thinks about it, late at night, if it’s higher or lower in register, if it’s smooth or raspy. He wants to learn everything about you.

That being said, he’s not sure if he’s ever met someone who’s ‘non-binary/gender-fluid’ before. He doesn’t get out much, he hardly talks to anyone who he hasn’t known for years.

So he googles. It doesn’t really help. He understands what it means, but he doesn’t know what it means to you. He wants to ask you a million questions, but is afraid to bring up even one, and ruin the moment, or sound like an idiot.

You’re so kind though. So he bites the bullet.

Can I ask you a question?

Your response comes almost immediately, now that it’s evening time, both finished with dinner— his takeout vs. your leftover spaghetti.

Of course, pretty boy ❤️

He still flushes deep when you call him that, heat spreading all throughout his face and neck and chest.

How did you know you were non-binary/ gender-fluid?

He frets over the text a bunch before he sends it, making sure he worded it the same way you did in your profile. His heart pounds as he waits for your response.

I’ve always just kind of known I didn’t feel like a man or a woman. I used to think everyone felt somewhere in between, and it was just normal to not feel like I checked either box, but then I realized no one else around me felt the way I did. And then I learned all the terms and whatnot, later on, and knew that’s what I am. Just kinda in between, neither and both, sometimes one and sometimes the other. If that makes sense?

His smile splits his cheeks as he reads your in-depth response, eating up every bit of information you’re willing to give him.

That makes perfect sense to me. Thank you for sharing :)

It doesn’t scare you off?

Frankie scoffs, as if anything about you could scare him off. At this point, you could show up on his doorstep with a dead body in a bag, and he’d throw it in his trunk, dispose of it, and then ask if he could maybe kiss you.

Not at all. Nothing about you scares me :)

——

It’s a few more days before Frankie works up the courage to ask for your phone number. You tell him you were wondering when he was going to finally ask for it. It makes him itchy to think about you waiting for him to ask, making him be the one to do it. In a good way. In a way that kind of makes him stiffen up in his briefs if he thinks about it for too long.

But now, as he settles in from a long day at work, his grin splits his face from ear to ear as he reads your text.

Can I take you out tomorrow night?

He likes it… a lot. He feels so fucking new to all this, like a fumbling newborn calf taking its first steps, and how forward you are eases him so thoroughly.

I’d love that :)

Meet me here at 5 for dinner. Casual dress, but I’m sure you’ll be handsome in anything 😘

It’s the longest 22 hours of his life, and it’s the shortest, all at the same time. Texting you, making funny jokes like his bones aren’t about to creep right out from under his skin with all the nerves buzzing his body. Thinking about you, dreaming about you, one right after the other. When he wakes in the morning it’s like he didn’t get a wink of sleep, his anxiety drumming up a million different scenarios of how it could go right and wrong.

Calling Santi mid-morning on a Saturday when he knows he’s spending time with his family, because if he doesn’t talk to someone about this he may just float off into the ether.

“I’m so fucking nervous, Pope, what do I do? How do I act? Can you just stake out at the bar and feed me lines through an earpiece?”

“Pendejo, fucking— grow a pair man. You’re cute and funny, you’ve got this.”

Reading your texts with pupils shaped like hearts:

I can’t wait to see you tonight, cutie ❤️

and

I finally settled on an outfit

and

Is it weird that I’m not even nervous? I’m just excited to finally meet you

It is weird, Frankie thinks, but doesn’t dare tell you. It’s weird how he can’t even eat the plain toast he made for lunch without feeling bile rise in the back of his throat, and you’re just excited. It’s weird how he’s never, ever felt so gone over someone, and you haven’t even met yet.

It’s not weird, it’s sweet :) I’m excited too <3

It’s not a lie, but he’s omitting the truth a bit. He’s excited but he’s nervous, picking meticulously through his closet to find something casual but not too casual, something he likes the look of himself in, something he thinks you’ll like the look of.

It only gets worse as he stares at google maps. The restaurant is 2.6 miles away, 11 minutes from his house. It’s 4:30, and he wants to leave already, but thinks maybe it’s better to deal with the anxiety in the comfort of his home rather than the parking lot, in case you’re there early too, and you can see how much of a fucking wreck he is.

He watches the minutes tick up in the corner of his phone screen. At 4:36, he gets up, fusses in the mirror one last time, and leaves.

When he parks in the lot in front of the bar & grill, you’ve already texted him.

I’m here a little early, got all green lights. Saved us a table near the back. See you soon!

It’s 4:52.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, closes his eyes as he lets it out gently, counting just like his therapist taught him. And again. And one more time, and finally that anxious tingling in his fingertips is muted a bit and his heart rate is only slightly above normal.

4:54.

He pulls the key from the ignition, gets out of the car, and makes his way to the door.

He finds you instantly.

You’re looking at him, and you’re smiling, and getting up from your chair as he approaches you. He barely even hears you greet him with all his blood rushing in his ears.

“Hi, Frankie,” you say, and your arms stretch out to invite him in for a hug.

He melts into your arms, his strained “hi” muffled in the crook of your neck. You squeeze him tight to you, and he hears you chuckle next to his ear.

“Knew you’d be even cuter in person.”

He huffs out a laugh as you release him, and the tips of his ears burn. But you’re smiling so sweetly at him that it eases his nervous bones.

“You look— can I call you handsome?”

Fuck, he thinks, so fucking awkward.

But your grin gets even wider.

“Only if you mean it.”

“I do,” he sighs, “like straight out of the cologne ads I’d rip out of my older sister’s magazines.”

He holds his breath as you react, the flutter of your eyelashes and the quivering of your lips and your laugh, bubbly and bright and soothing.

And he isn’t lying, not even a little. You’re rugged but soft, romantic and alluring, and he can’t take his eyes off you.

Even as you take your seats across from each other, and the waiter comes to take your drink orders, and as your gorgeous eyes flit across the pages of the menu. He can’t stop looking, watching your mouth curve into a smile as you talk about your week and ask him about his.

It’s pathetic, really, when the waiter asks if you’re ready to order, and you ask if he knows what he wants, because he hasn’t taken a single glance at the menu himself. He just hopes to god the dim lighting of the bar hides his flushed face and tells you to order first while he skims the menu.

He ends up ordering exactly what you got, and floundering when your hand finds his on the tabletop. He watches your fingers trace his own from his nails to his knuckles, and flips his palm up for you to rest your hand in his.

“I’m glad you came out with me tonight,” you tell him.

His eyes flicker up from your joined hands to your smiling face, and his nerves completely melt away from the heat of your gaze.

“Thank you for asking me,” he says.

“Would you have asked me, if I hadn’t asked you?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, and there’s a teasing glint in your eyes.

“Eventually,” he nods, “I mean… probably.”

Your eyebrows turn up in question, and he realizes how that sounds, jumping to backtrack.

“Not like that! I just mean— You know… You’re uh… well, I feel like you’re way out of my league. And so maybe I’m a little… intimidated.”

You smile, then, and sigh, and squeeze his hand as you call him a sweet boy. It makes the room feel like it’s a hundred degrees warmer, like Frankie’s clothes are suddenly two sizes too small.

“You aren’t so good at asking for what you want, are you?”

He laughs then, and shakes his head.

“Not really, no.”

“We’ll have to work on that, then.”

He clears his throat, and tugs at his collar with his free hand, breaking his gaze away from your face as you chuckle. He looks to find a waiter, or maybe an HVAC guy that could crank the AC to sub-zero temps for the remainder of the date.

No luck.

The rest of the date goes well. Surprisingly well. Frankie was worried that he’d be so out of practice that he’d freeze up, or say something stupid, or do something stupid, like knock over a drink or get food stuck in his teeth.

But you’re just so easy to talk to, to click with. Of course, you’re the one who facilitates the conversation, asking him about his favorites— movies, TV shows, music, time of year.

But he likes to think that he keeps the ball rolling well enough, is aware enough to remember to ask for some of your favorites— holiday, food, cocktails.

By the time the check comes, he hardly realizes you’ve both had empty plates in front of you for a while, talking and laughing through your meals like you’re just catching up with an old friend.

He protests when you grab the check, because of course he does. You’ve given him this incredible night, your comfortable company, your sweet smiles, and he feels like his offerings pale in comparison.

“I asked you out, Francisco,” you tease him, having just learned his full name a mere 20 minutes ago.

And he can’t really protest anymore, what with the shiver that’s tingling his spine and the goosebumps he tries to hide by gripping the chair underneath him. So he lets you pay, and thanks the waiter, and feels a rush of sadness when they come back with the check to sign. He really doesn’t want this evening to end.

The apprehension falls second to the sensation of your hand on the small of his back, leading him out to the parking lot.

“Where’s your car? I’ll walk you there,” you say, your thumb pressing a soothing circle into the base of his spine.

So he walks to his truck, a little self-conscious about the out-of-dateness of it, and how he didn’t think to run it through a car wash before this. But mostly he’s just nervous about ending this date on a good note.

“This is me,” he says, barely above a whisper, stopping at his driver’s side door.

You smile at him when he turns to you.

“Thanks again for coming out with me. I really did have a great time.”

This makes him smile through the unease, even as your hand drops from the small of his back.

“I did too. Would you uh… wanna hang out again soon?”

Your face lights up, and Frankie wants to capture it in a bottle and take it home with him. Keep it at his bedside to use as a nightlight.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

He chuckles and looks down to his feet like maybe it’ll redirect the flush in his face. You grab his hand, hanging by his side, and luckily you don’t make him speak again because he doesn’t know if he’s even able.

“I’d love to. Really.”

He smiles when he looks back up at you, only briefly, because you drop his hand and take a half step back.

“Call me about it.”

“Wait!”

Your brow arches at him, because you weren’t really going anywhere, but Frankie’s mind is running a thousand miles a second. He thinks back to all the times you’ve goaded him into asking for what he wants, so far, and how it hasn’t bit him in the rear yet.

“Can we— I… Can I kiss you goodnight?”

Your smile softens, and you take that little half-step back closer to him, and he feels all the tension leak from his shoulders.

“Yes, you can. Thank you for asking.”

He huffs, and smiles at you, and you’re reaching out to cup his jaw and grab his hip, and Frankie closes his eyes far too early, but it’s okay, because he feels your body heat and then your lips.

He can’t hold back the hum that rumbles from deep in his chest, or the way that he goes a little boneless in your grasp. He finds your forearm and squeezes it, and your bicep too, anything to ground himself as your lips part and your tongue teases the seam of his lips.

But then you’re pulling back, and it’s over far too quickly, and Frankie is also acutely aware of how tight his jeans feel. His face feels like it could melt right off of his skull.

“Call me soon, Pretty Boy.”

He nods, speechless, and watches you disappear between the cars of the parking lot. On his way home, he’s already fretting over whether or not he should text you tonight, and what kind of date he should plan, and if his breath was okay when you let him kiss you.

——

Frankie is perfect.

You’re still not sure how you found this diamond in the rough that is Tinder. You thank every god you know the name of that you got bored and opened the app on auto-pilot that night.

First of all, he’s so cute. He’s handsome in such a boyish way, with his dimples and unruly curls and patchy beard.

But he’s also so kind, the way he talks to you like it’s a privilege, the way he asks careful and curious questions about you like he truly wants to know the parts of you that are deeper than what’s on the surface.

Every simple text from him makes you smile, the way he always tries to make you laugh or cheer you up when you’re overwhelmed with the demands of life, as you often are.

And meeting him in person solidified everything you thought about him.

He seems like the textbook definition of a golden retriever boyfriend, if you ever get to call him that much. You hope you do.

In fact, it seems like it’s moving quite quickly in that direction when Frankie asks if you’d be down for a movie night. Some blockbuster he missed in theaters is finally streaming, and he thinks you’ll like it.

You don’t tell him that you didn’t miss it in theaters, or that you thought it was just okay.

You do tell him you’d be down to watch it, only if he came to your place, where the walls are thin and your surrounding neighbors all know you and watch out for you. Just in case he’s really good at acting like a sweet, safe guy.

You find yourself giddy as the weekend approaches, daydreaming at work about how the night will turn out. You tell him to come in comfy clothes, because you’ll be damned if you wear jeans in your own home, even for this sweet man. He doesn’t seem to mind one bit, that’s my favorite kind of outfit :) is his cute response.

You get everything ready the day of; your coziest blankets hang off the arms of your sofa, your fridge is stocked with fresh fruits and your pantry with candy and microwave popcorn and chips (I’ll eat whatever you get :) his answer to your questioning of his favorite movie snacks, of course.)

And then you sit around and wait, excited nerves coaxing your body to straighten things up that have been straightened up a million times already. When Frankie texts you his ETA, you park yourself on the couch by the door and stare at it until there’s a knock on it.

You may count to ten before you get up to open it, just to hide how eager you’ve been to see him again.

Your throat does get a little dry when you answer it to find him in a dark blue t-shirt that hugs his arms and light gray joggers that hug… Other things.

“Hi handsome,” you smile, pushing down all the nerves and the less-than-PG thoughts.

“Hi. I um… I brought these. I noticed you ordered them on our uh– well, at the restaurant, and I didn’t want to show up empty handed.”

You watch a flush break out on his face, and his neck, and wonder how far under his collar it actually spreads.

He’s holding up a six pack of your favorite beers, and he’s smiling so shyly, and you have to crowd in closer to him to press a kiss to his heated cheek.

“That’s so thoughtful, thank you.”

He giggles— giggles, Jesus Christ— and you take them from his hand to let him come through the door.

You set the beers in your fridge to let them chill as he kicks off his shoes. You watch him from the kitchen as he takes in your place with his pretty brown eyes.

“It’s really cozy in here,” he tells you as he fiddles with his own hands.

“Snuggle up, get comfy, I’ll bring us some snacks.”

He nods, so obedient, and hovers by the couch before settling on the seat in the middle.

Sly move, you think, and you can’t hide your stupid grin as you gather some snacks.

When you turn off all but one lamp and deposit the junk food on the coffee table, you notice he’s inched himself closer to the arm of the couch, like he was second-guessing himself. That just won’t do, you think, as you settle in right next to him, so close that the length of your body is pressed against his.

He doesn’t look at you, just stares at the Roku City scrolling across your flat screen. For a second you think he might be uncomfortable, but the way his breathing is uneven clues you in on his nerves.

You reach over him to grab the blanket in the arm of the couch, and you feel his muscles tense up when you press against him.

“Frankie?”

“Huh? Sorry, yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head and sighs, heavy and long, before looking at you.

“I’m so nervous.”

He smiles in spite of it, lopsided, dimples so cute that your lips quiver with the urge to kiss them.

You smile back, and drape the blanket over both of you, patting his leg through it.

“Nothing to be nervous about, Francisco.”

It gets a laugh out of him, a huff through his nose, and his shoulders lower the tiniest bit. You slowly reach up to cradle his jaw in your palm, careful not to spook this little baby deer of a man, but his face leans into your touch.

“If it helps, I think it’s really sweet that you’re nervous.”

“Thank you… I think?”

You laugh at him, and watch as your reaction makes his eyes brighten. You want to kiss him. You want to smooch the absolute daylights out of him, but there’s still 3 hours of a pretentious movie to watch, and there will be plenty of time, if he’s amenable.

So you just pinch his cheek before you let go, and try not to look so smug at the heat that consumes his face as you get the movie up and running.

Fifteen or so minutes into the film, Frankie has relaxed into the couch, though he’s stock-still beside you with his arms glued to his own sides. You just want to cuddle, at least. You’ve been thinking about it for weeks— getting his warm, solid but soft body against your own.

You’re certain he won’t be the one to initiate it, but that’s all fine and dandy. You rearrange yourself a bit, and sling an arm over his shoulders. He looks away from the movie towards you, and you give him a smile that must be comforting.

He sinks lower on the couch, and leans against you, his messy curls pressed against your shoulder while his arm drapes over your lap. You think you hear his satisfied hum under the dialogue of the characters, and you let your head rest against his.

This is nice. Frankie’s so warm against you, the most comforting weight all lax against your side. Your hand creeps up from his shoulder to his head, and his hair is so silky when you finally work up the gall to run your fingers through it.

You can feel the way it affects him when he shivers and presses even closer into you. You watch the movie like that for a while, snacks untouched, fingertips stroking his scalp as his soft curls slip through your digits. Every once in a while his head tilts to look up at you, piercing brown, and each time you smile back down and ruffle his hair.

It’s just after the first big conflict of the film when you feel Frankie shift against you. His arm moves in your lap, and you watch his thick fingers grab your thigh over the blanket.

It shocks you how such a simple gesture makes your temperature rise. You hum and let your nails scratch more firmly against his head. You can hear him gasp, and feel him move impossibly closer, like he’s trying to fuse the two of you together. You glance down at him, past the curls you’ve lost yourself in, and his eyes are closed. Further, the curve of his nose and pout of his lips, his chest that’s heaving with his excited breaths, you notice a suspicious tent in the blanket, and you don’t want to assume, but the context clues are all there.

Frankie is hard.

You can’t blame him. You’ve been aroused since you pressed his body against yours, a slow simmering underneath the surface that’s made you feel so comfortably warm and relaxed.

You shift, and you swear you hear a barely-there whine leave his lips. You move just enough so you can press your free hand to his chest. Under your palm, you can feel his heart beating, a pace that’s concerningly higher than appropriate for sitting and watching dialogue in a movie.

His head turns toward you, his hair slipping through the grasp of your knuckles. He looks up at you with those puppy eyes and his pupils are so dilated that it makes you take a deep breath. He turns his body toward you next and there it is the hard line of his cock pressed against the outside of your thigh. You see him shudder at the friction, watch his eyes grow droopy as they flicker down to glance at your lips.

“Can I kiss you again?”

And he asks so sweetly, voice a little hoarse from the silence, that you couldn’t dream of denying him.

“Yes, Frankie.”

His lips tremble until they meet yours, so soft and chaste, a stark contrast to his scruffy beard and mustache. His breath hitches; you can hear it and feel it. His chest shudders under your palm and pushes air out to gust against your cheeks. You feel his prick, too, twitching against your thigh as your tongue peeks out to tease his pouty bottom lip.

He pulls back so much quicker than you want him to, but it’s also such a reward to look at him this close. His lips shiny, his cheeks flushed, his irises completely usurped by his pupils. His mouth hangs open and you can’t help yourself as you slide your hand from his chest to his jaw and pull him into you once again.

A surprised little noise works its way out of his throat, and his hips jerk forward, and then he’s groaning as his cock throbs against the outside of your thigh. The noise makes that feeling in your gut draw deeper, lower, and you make one of your own in response.

His hand rests dutifully still on your thigh, but you can feel his fingers twitching as your taste buds rub against his– a friction that has no right to be as delicious as it is. You want him to feel you up, to touch you all over, to give in to the desire that’s blatantly pressed against you. You want to hear these noises he seems to be holding back, the whimpers that just barely make it past his vocal chords before he cuts them off.

You pull away this time. Pride swells in your chest as you look at what you’ve already done to him. His curls are even messier now that you’ve run your fingers through them over and over. His eyes are all glassy when he looks at you, pouty lips slick and red.

He sits so still, aside from his heaving breaths, like he’s waiting for your command.

“Tell me what you want, Frankie.”

His eyes widen and christ, if they get any wider they’re going to suck you in like a supermassive black hole.

“I– I’m okay, I like this.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He nods, trying to convince you, as he not-so-subtly pulls his erection free from its trap between his body and your thigh. His eyes cast downward, but you swiftly grab his chin in your hands to bring them back to you.

“Francisco,” you mumble, “ask for what you want.”

He gasps and bites his plush bottom lip, hard enough that there’s little indents when he opens his mouth. He shuts it again, and squirms against you, and finally opens it once more.

“I want you to touch me.”

His request comes out hardly above a whisper, all broken and breathy, and his gaze settles somewhere behind you.

“Is that all?”

He nods quickly, eyes snapping back to you.

“I swear– I just wanna feel your hands on me.”

Your smile widens as his face gets so serious, eyebrows knitting together.

“That’s good, that’s really good,” you mumble.

The shudder that visibly rolls through him is like a shockwave, sending every one of your nerve endings on-edge. You huff, an amazed little breath at this fucking guy in front of you, so responsive and timid and utterly fuckable.

“You like that? Like being good for me?”

He nods again, more apprehensive this time, but he can’t hold back his whine when his hips press against you. The possibilities of all the things you could do to this man stretch far and wide; it’s entirely overwhelming.

“Sweet boy,” you whisper, because he is, “c’mere.”

You pull the blanket off of you both, and Frankie reaches down to adjust himself so it isn’t so obvious, like you haven’t felt his cock twitching against you this entire time. It’s so endearing you think you could cry, but you’re much too turned on for sentiment at the moment. Instead, you guide him to straddle you, hands on his slender hips until his thighs cage your own.

For a moment you just watch as he sits patiently, obediently, waiting for your next words like his cock isn’t leaking a pretty little damp patch into his sweatpants. His chest heaves with every breath, and his tongue licks and bites at his swollen lips, and his eyes stay trained on your mouth in anticipation.

“So pretty,” you whisper.

His long eyelashes flutter at your compliment, and he turns his head to try and hide his reaction, but it doesn’t mask the way his prick twitches under gray fabric. Your hands find his waistband and tease the edge and you delight in the way he shivers.

You need to feel more, so you press your hands under his shirt and hum at what you find. A soft tummy and smooth skin that makes way for a small trail of wiry hairs. It’s all revealed to you a moment later when you hike his shirt higher, reach for pecs that are more solid than you imagined, and the smallest nipples you think you’ve ever had your hands on.

You look back up to his face for permission with a quirked brow, and he nods eagerly, grabbing the back of his collar to shed the material and bare himself and it’s so lovely. There’s so much tan skin, hardly any of it is obstructed by hair, just the errant freckle here or there. And you can’t help it, you have to lean forward and take one of his nipples into your mouth.

He gasps your name, but one of his hands finds the back of your head to keep you in place. You hum around the little nub, so small you have trouble getting your teeth to bite down on it, but you do and then he groans, his hips jerking in your hold on them.

“Is this how you wanted me to touch you?”

You lean your head back to look him in the eyes, to watch a pained expression flit over his face as he tries to come up with an answer he thinks you’ll like.

“I like this too,” he nods, “but I, um… fuck–”

He cuts himself off to hide his face in his hands. He is so cute and so sexy at the same time, it’s making your brain go haywire.

“Tell me, Frankie. Be good for me, Pretty Boy.”

He shifts on top of you as he looks up at your ceiling. You soothe your hands up and down his flanks and wait patiently for him to find the words.

He drops his hand from his face, fists clenching down by his sides, but he finally looks down at you and smiles, shy and sweet, just a hint of that dimple you adore rearing its head.

“Touch my cock? You got me so hard.”

You smile bright at his request, and nod, and press a kiss to his sternum.

“Anything you want,” you mumble, “just gotta ask. Just like that.”

He looks pretty proud of himself. There’s a twinkle in his eyes as you look up at him, and you take a playful bite of his skin and savor the gasp it coaxes out of him.

“Let’s get these off, yeah?”

Your fingers sneak under his waistband and his skin is so hot under there, searing. You only have a few moments to bask in the warmth before he stands up to remove his pants and briefs in one bashful move.

Jesus.

He’s so gorgeous, bare for you, vulnerable, excited. His foreskin is all pulled back, revealing a delicious looking string of pre-cum from his slit. You desperately want to lean forward and taste— but he didn’t ask for that, and you won’t give it to him unless he does.

Stunned a bit silent, you pat your lap, urging him to settle back over it. Much to your delight, he does, quick and obedient. An approving hum bubbles up out of your chest, and he preens as he sits on your thighs.

There’s a very wicked feeling in you as you stare at him, completely naked, while you haven’t shed a single layer of clothing. Control, and trust, and power. It’s overwhelming in a way that makes your lungs feel too inflated for your rib cage, to know you could take advantage of it, and to know you never ever would.

“Good boy,” you whisper, finally, testing those waters.

Frankie’s dick twitches between you two, and you huff and smile and wonder how something so perfect and precious has literally landed right in your lap.

He’s been more than good, and so with one hand you grab his hip to steady him, and the other takes his cock as gentle as ever. A sharp inhale inflates his chest as you stroke the smooth skin, a teasing, feather-light touch that makes his legs tense up in your lap. You watch him disappear and reappear through the loose circle of your hand, watch another clear droplet bead from his slit when you squeeze him tighter.

“Does this feel good?”

He’s watching your hand work when you look back up to his face. He nods, a jerky movement that seems to shake his entire body, and he’s so on-edge. You feel it in the way he shifts his weight on top of you.

“Words, Frankie,” you urge, a soft smile on your face.

“So good.”

You hum, taking in the way his eyes flutter open and closed, the way his adam’s apple pokes out when he leans his head back.

You reward him by speeding up your strokes. You squeeze his hip with your free hand, kneading at the soft flesh there, while you lean forward to press kisses into his virtually hairless chest. His skin is so hot it feels like it could burn you, flushed such a pretty color, just like you knew it would be.

He whines when you gather up more pre cum with your thumb and gently massage it into his frenulum. You look up to find him staring down at you with glassy eyes, bottom lip tucked tight between his teeth.

“Can we kiss more?”

His voice is breathy, and you nod, and a fresh wave of arousal flushed through your system when his lips eagerly meet yours.

It’s sloppier, this time. Noisier, too, as you tighten your grip on his cock and begin to properly work your hand up and down his length. You steal his breath and his noises straight from his lungs, feel every shudder he pushes out when you twist your wrist just right or squeeze tighter.

His hips start to meet your thrusts, rutting into your hand, such a desperate little thing on top of you, all for you. You want to encourage him to take his pleasure from you, and so you slip your hand back from his waist, find the perfectly pert globe of his ass with your palm.

“Haa— shit.”

His words muffle into your kiss as his hips stutter in rhythm and you lean forward to smirk into the bald patch of his beard.

“Yeah?”

A gasp wrecks through his heaving chest as he nods.

“Please, fuck— please.”

You hum into his jaw and squeeze his cock and his ass respectively.

“Please what, Pretty Boy?”

He leans back. You watch him squeeze his eyes shut and shake his head from left to right.

“Tell me what you want, Frankie. Know you can.”

A big gulp of air, and then he opens his eyes to look at you, then blinks them shut again as his head lolls back in his shoulders.

“Touch me there. I— I can’t—”

“Shhh,” you take mercy on him, bringing your hand up from his backside to cradle his jaw in your palm. He tilts his head into your touch and opens his eyes.

“I got you, sweet boy,” you remind him.

He nods in understanding, shifting to kiss the heel of your palm. You let him rest his lips there as he catches his breath, feel them quivering every other upstroke of your hand on his prick.

But as he makes to move, you hold his jaw steady in your hand. His eyes flicker back to your face, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, if he can tell how beside yourself you really are.

Slowly, so he can pull away if he wants, you trace the pad of your middle finger along the seam of his lips. You’re awestruck at how they instantly fall open for you, greedy, something you’re definitely looking forward to exploring more later.

For now, you watch with hooded eyes as he takes it into his mouth, tongue curling and lapping at it. You briefly wonder if fingers are erogenous zones, beyond turned on at how warm and wet the inside of his mouth feels, how he suckles and releases, bobs his head over and over until you snap out of it.

“Good boy. Fucking perfect,” you sigh.

He gets a cocky little goofy grin on his face at the praise, but his prick twitches against your grasp. You squeeze it for good measure, and more of his pre-cum dribbles over your knuckles.

You lean into him again, and he leans into you, holding each other up. Your mouth finds his pebbled nipple once again as his prick drags across your shirt and saturates it. He hisses at the friction, then gasps when your hand grabs his ass cheek again.

You pull it as best as you can with one hand. It isn’t too difficult with how it fits so perfectly round in your palm. You squeeze it, massage it, note how the littlest hint of peach fuzz feels against your clammy hand. You wonder how it would feel under your tongue, too, how it would taste, how the fatty flesh would feel between your teeth.

His hips stutter forward when your finger, slick with his saliva, strokes the very top of his crack. And you don’t mean to tease too much, but his jerky movements and satisfied sounds when you do are like music to your ears.

Finally you find his hole, fluttering around nothing, so little and tight, all for you.

“Ohmygod.”

Frankie sounds pained, so much so that you look up from nuzzling his chest to watch his face. His brows are drawn tight with how his eyes are squeezed shut, and his mouth is hung open, slick with a little drool around the corners of his lips. Without context, maybe he would look pained, too, but the way his cock throbs and dribbles in your hand paints a completely different picture.

And what a pretty picture he is, gulping for air above you, thrusting his hips back into your finger and forward through your fist, like he’s so out of his mind that he can’t even make it up.

You apply more pressure to his impossibly tight pucker and sink your teeth into his skin at the way he whines for you. You do it again, and again, a patient little rhythm until it relaxes and the very tip of your finger slips into his warmth.

He groans, clenching tight around you.

“Okay, Frankie?”

He laughs, a little puff of air, and you feel it where you’re inside him.

“Gonna make me come,” he chokes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, don’t— fuck— please don’t stop.”

You hum into his chest, squeeze your hand tighter around his prick as you speed up your strokes. He’s groaning now, deep and low and constant, like he couldn’t hold it back if he tried.

You wiggle your finger against his rim, tugging him open for you, toying with the elastic muscle. He’s so pliable everywhere, opening up to you, happily taking what you give him.

In a stiff moment you think he isn’t into it, because he freezes up and goes silent. You make to slip out of him, but his warmth just drags you in.

And then his cock jumps in your grasp, and his hole clamps around your finger as he gasps your name, and he’s coming.

He shakes with it as he soaks your shirt and drips over your hand. You stroke him through it and marvel at the way he feels in your grasp and around you, violent waves of pleasure that you can sense where you touch him.

You look up to watch him tremble through it and he’s gorgeous. Sweat drips from his messy curls at his temple and paints a glimmer down his neck, all pulled taught as his head hangs back. His chest tastes salty under your tongue where it heaves, you can’t get enough of the flavor, or the wicked beating of his heart under your lips.

And his noises, fucking delicious, wrung-out curses that just keep tumbling from his red lips. His stomach trembles with his shaky breaths, and he sounds so wrecked as the last bit of his orgasm tricked down the back of your hand.

His whispered chants of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” slow to a stop just as his joints unlock and his muscles relax. You take it as a sign to loosen your grip on his spent cock and carefully slip your finger back out of him. It earns you one last whimper before he sags into you, a boneless little heap in your lap.

You unhand him to hold him against you, wipe your hand on the discarded blanket beside you so you can stroke his back with one hand and his fuzzy little buttcheek with the other.

You tell him how good he was for you, how pretty he is when he comes, how much you loved getting to do that to him.

It takes a while for him to catch his breath, and his huffs tickle that sensitive spot on your neck just below your ear.

“Holy shit,” he sighs.

You nod, because he’s correct. Holy shit, indeed.

His voice is a little hoarse, and you’re conflicted. You want to hold him as long as he’ll let you, but you know you should get him some water and at least a towel.

You shift under him and he whimpers, wraps his arms tighter around your shoulders.

There goes that idea.

You hold him closer, and smirk at the contented sigh that leaves him.

“I think… I think I just imprinted on you.”

It startles a laugh out of you, and he chuckles too, a tiny happy sound against your collar bone. You turn to kiss his heated cheek, and he lets you, before he turns his own head to fuse his lips to yours.

This kiss is lazy, unhurried, and the adrenaline from making him fall apart is slowly making way for more of that sticky-sweet arousal from earlier.

“I wanna make you come,” he mumbles against your lips.

You shake your head, but kiss him some more, as to not give him the wrong idea.

“Another night, Pretty Boy.”

He makes a disappointed sound, but continues to kiss you until you have to part for air. His brow is turned upward in question when you pull away.

“Did I do something wrong?”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes his question.

“Not a single thing, Frankie. Just wanted to take care of you tonight.”

His shoulders relax at that, but his face is still confused. It’s a cute look on him, with his pouty lips and big brown eyes.

“You’d tell me right? If I made you uncomfortable? You can tell me. I don’t wanna upset you.”

And christ, you feel your heart melting and oozing through your rib cage at how earnest his voice is.

“I promise, I’ll tell you.”

That seems to quell his nerves, as he sinks back into you again with his sweaty curls pressed against your shoulder.

You’re sticky in more ways than one, and Frankie’s only getting heavier in your lap the sleepier he gets, but a giggle bubbles up out of you when you realize you’ve never been more comfortable than you are right now.

Frankie huffs in response, and you press him even tighter against you.

You don’t know where one-and-a-half dates and one sickeningly hot orgasm places the two of you. And maybe it’s greedy to think about with a handsome, sweet man in your arms, but you can’t push down the overwhelming feeling of wanting more.

next part

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