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yuwuta · 2 months

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YUUTA OKKOTSU’S DECLASSIFIED JUJUTSU TECH SURVIVAL GUIDE (AN APPETITE HAUNTING THE HEART)

❝i know this tastes too good to be healthy. the more it melts, the sweeter it gets, so take my heart out because i need all of you.

*this is yuuta okkotsu’s fool-reviewed plan for navigating all things curses, sorcery, and love.

pairings. okkotsu/reader

content, warnings. canon-adjacent, reader has a cursed technique, friends to lovers, smut (uhh... no triggers i think? other than implied virginity loss on yuuta’s part), mentions of violence/curses, possessive/intrusive thoughts... he starts of kinda sweet and weird and then just gets... weirder and worse lol, so mostly yuuta being... yuuta <2

notes. jujustu tech is a college not a highschool, yes i brought naruto in this, i believe in sasuke slander only from a place of pure love, real sasuke ridicule will not be accepted xoxo

word count. 12k i told you i could yap about him all day

playing. candy/baekhyun, untouched/the veronicas, cream soda/exo, lacy/olivia rodrigo, pure honey/beyoncé

#1 — Do NOT touch Maki Zenin’s tools (but if you do, the cute girl who hangs around Inumaki might help to patch you up).

Yuuta hadn’t meant to piss off Maki. He was trying to be helpful, but Yuuta learned the hard way today: do not touch Maki’s cursed tools, at all, for any reason whatsoever. He intended to hand it back to her, but she was prompt in assuming that was part of an attack, snatching it from under his grasp and giving him a jab on the wrist with the dull end of the stick. If the beatdown he’d endured during training put Yuuta on his deathbed, then that hit was the final nail in the coffin.

The crack! sound of his bones made everyone pause their sparring, and Gojo winced the loudest, “Ouch! That one had to hurt, kid!” It was also Gojo who gathered everyone to stand around and look down at him clutching his wrist in pain, before making the executive decision to appoint you as Yuuta’s caretaker.

“This is definitely something you can handle!” he cheered, patting the top of your head, “Take our dearest Yuuta to the infirmary and patch him up, please and thank you! With the way Maki’s been kicking him into the ground, those cuts are sure to get infected sooner rather than later. The two of you can join us for dinner when you’re finished!”

Yuuta tried to refute, on the grounds of “No—no! I—ouch—this really isn’t worth using any kind of cursed energy over!” Which was quickly met with a mischievous raised eyebrow from his teacher, “Oh? Are you insinuating that my precious student doesn’t have the skill to fix a simple fracture?” That prompted Yuuta to spill a flurry of apologies, none of which were coherent, and ended up with him trailing behind you sheepishly to the infirmary with a broken wrist, several bleeding wounds, and probably early heart failure.

Now, Yuuta sits with his feet dangling off of the edge of the examination chair, shivering from the chilliness of the room, and all of his nerve endings rattling at the realization that this is the first time that he’s been alone in a room with you since you’ve met. He winces, first at the sting of disinfectant into his wound, and then internally—mostly out of embarrassment—because his outward reaction made you pause your actions to question if he’s okay.

Okay is relative, he thinks. In the grand scheme of things, he’s okay. Concerning his current injuries, he’ll be okay eventually. Concerning this… whatever this is he feels for you… maybe not so okay.

“Sorry,” he stutters, too loud for the atmosphere and proximity of your bodies to each other, and, so, he winces again, cheeks staining red to match his embarrassment, as if he or you needed any confirmation of it. He doesn’t mean to be a difficult patient, but he has an adversity surrounding hospitals and medical care, and that alcohol really does burn, and you’re really close to his face, and—and you giggle a little, but Yuuta hears a chorus, instead; warm, spring-like, with violins and a piano and cellos strumming in perfect harmony, and the buzz of bees and butterfly wings flapping the melody.

“You apologize a lot,” you tell him, a kind smile on your lips. You step forward, just a bit, as you peel off the band-aid adhesive and gently press it over the bridge of Yuuta’s nose. It’s Hello Kitty themed. It makes him want to scream.

“Yeah, uh—sorry about that!” Yuuta apologizes, once again too loudly. He scratches at the back of his neck with his left hand, and his eyes go wide after a few beats, “No, wait—I didn’t mean to apologize again. I just... I, uh... thank you. That’s what I wanted to say. For helping me, you have my sincerest thank you.”

Yuuta dips his head to bow, and when he raises it again, you’re blinking at him owlishly, and he thinks he’s really done it now. You must think he’s a freak, if you didn’t already. He thinks you’re gonna tell him off for being pathetic and a weakling, but instead you laugh again—that precious sound that pauses Yuuta’s world for the better.

“You’re awfully formal. There’s no need for that, or to thank me. We’re friends, afterall,” you reassure him, “Even if Gojo did force you to be my practice dummy.”

It’s his turn to reassure you, his uninjured hand moving from his neck to shake frantically in front of him, “It’s completely okay,” he does his best to give you a smile as warm as the one you give him. It probably doesn’t work, but he tries anyway—he’s always been an awkward smiler, too wide-mouthed and toothy, “You can do whatever you want to me, I trust you.”

Your face seems almost solemn at his declaration, and the panic instantly kicks in again. Yuuta scrambles when his words play back in his head, “I’m sorry, was that weird? I meant that I trust your judgment. You can, uh, fix me up however you best see fit—or just leave it! I’m sure it’ll heal on—”

“You’re awfully self-sacrificing, too,” you cut him off with a laugh, your usual warm nature clicking back. Yuuta shrugs, feeble; you smile wider, “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I keep staring, and I’m sorry to have made you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all! You don’t... make me uncomfortable, I mean. You could never,” Yuuta rushes, curling back into himself after his outburst, “You... it always feels really nice when you’re around. I can’t explain it, but everything is calmer.”

Your eyes flutter across his face, before you turn away from him, “I can tell it makes you nervous—I can hear the changes in your heartbeat,” you tell him, opening the cabinet to return the alcohol to its rightful place. You must also be able to hear his thoughts, chiming in just as Yuuta continues to wonder if his heartbeat is really that loud, “It’s part of my technique. I don’t mean to intrude on your heart.”

Is it an intrusion if Yuuta left room for you? If he wanted you to be there? Was it crazy to think that he’d give you his heart to hold and trust you to take care of it, even though you’d only met a few months ago? Maybe it would be easier if he let you squeeze tight enough to put him out of his misery already.

Luckily, you keep talking before he can say something stupid like that out-loud again.

“It’s just that... you remind me of somebody that I used to know. You’re kind like him, and you both share a well-intentioned recklessness, too. I see so much of him in you that it’s hard not to stare sometimes,” you admit, turning back to face him, and gingerly taking his wrist between your hands. When your hands start to glow, Yuuta can feel it—your reversed cursed technique is warm on the surface, but chilly underneath, like a heated blanket on top of perfectly cool sheets.

“I don’t mean to say that you’re just a replacement,” you continue, slowly rotating your hands over his injury. It stings a little, then soothes, “I’m just still in awe of how nice it feels being around you. It feels strangely—”

“Familiar,” Yuuta interjects, “I understand. You feel that way, too. I think... that’s what I meant before.” He understands your words perfectly because you remind him of someone precious to him, too; someone he used to and still loves alot. “You—it makes me happy, that’s why I seem so nervous.”

It seems as though you understand him, too. His heart sings, and you can probably hear it, but Yuuta doesn’t quite mind so much now. What he feels for you is consuming, maybe concerning, but knowing that you know what it’s like to love like him brings him an odd sense of comfort. Maybe he should be jealous that you’ve had someone to love that much before, but he’s not exactly in a position to talk. What matters is that you can hear him and feel him—his heart and his love and his sad and his happy, and it doesn’t push you away.

It makes him want to burst. He owes you a thank you for putting something so precious in his life. He owes you an apology, for ever doubting that you couldn’t handle his symptoms. He should have realized that you can handle his love.

“You feel really warm, too,” he blushes, scratching at the back of his neck with his free hand, “And, uh, not just because you’re holding my hand.”

The twinkle in your eyes turns into confusion, then surprise when you look down to see that the hand below his wrist had moved to rest underneath his palm instead. His wrist was well healed by now, and you’d been, effectively, massaging his skin and muscles with your technique for the latter duration of your conversation without realizing it.

Yuuta couldn’t tell when it went from healing to hand holding, but he’s not complaining—and he doesn’t think he could have stopped it either. Another quality to your technique that he couldn’t understand was how your energy felt sticky, flowed like honey; how it managed to run into broken crevices and bruised dents with a mind of its own. Even if he’d wanted to pull his hand away—and he didn’t, he absolutely did not—he wouldn’t have gotten far from you. He never wanted to be.

“You already have calluses on your palm,” you note, dispelling your healing energy, holding onto Yuuta’s hand only by want now, “You train hard. You’ll catch up to Maki and Toge, quickly, but not if you don’t take care of yourself.”

Yuuta almost chokes when you rotate your wrist so that your fingers are aligned. Your hand is so much softer than his, warmer than his, and maybe he’s idealistic, but your fingers seem to slot perfectly between his when you curl them.

“I’m not always going to be around to fix you up,” you warn him, “So don’t go around pissing Maki off too much, alright?”

Yuuta can feel the heat from your body flow through him. From his palm, up his arm, down into his chest, and everywhere else. It doesn’t feel real. You’re holding his hand, you’re smiling at him, you’re right there and you’re so bright and beautiful, so Yuuta doesn’t know why his thoughts are so gray and dangerous; you wouldn’t hurt him, and he doesn’t want to hurt you, so why can’t he stop thinking about keeping you like this—of stitching your hands together forever to keep you by his side, or letting this heat consume and burn you both.

Yuuta shakes his head to wiggle those thoughts away, but to you it seems like he’s saying no to staying off of Maki’s radar. When he realizes it, he nods too reverently to make up for it; surely looking like an idiot, and then to top it off, he squeaks, “I—yes, ma’am!”

Another foolish outburst on his end, perhaps, but it makes you giggle, fills the room with springtime for a moment, so to Yuuta, it was worth it. “Good,” you nod, release his hand and beckon him off of the chair, “Come on, we should go eat before Panda takes all the good sides for himself.”

Yuuta follows you back to the dorms with his stomach already full of love, love, love. He loves you, and you can hear, and see, and feel exactly what you do to him, and you don’t run. Yuuta thinks maybe you should, even though he doesn’t want you to. Surely you know what he did to Rika when he loved her.

Rika seems to like you, actually, if the humming of her voice in his head as he takes his seat at the table next to you is any indication. He can vaguely make out some of her words as you pass him the dumplings—warm, kind, loyal. He agrees. Pretty, too. No disagreement there.

In such a short amount of time, you’ve shifted Yuuta’s ethos for life. He wanted to die to be with the person he loved before, and never quite understood why Rika would stop him, why she would want him to suffer in this life alone; but maybe this is what Rika was always trying to tell him; that his love was not lost and buried with her, but flowing towards you, his heart, a beacon for you to locate.

You’d mentioned that he reminded you of someone you knew before, that you couldn’t see anymore. Yuuta doesn’t know what happened to your person before he came along; he can only hope that you’ll allow him and his heart to be a vessel for your love someday, too. He won’t disappoint you. He won’t let you let go of him.

It shouldn’t be hard. You already have his heart in your hands.

#2 — Gojo is more than a teacher. He is also the school event planner, once ranked Diamond in Overwatch, and is the only person blacklisted from any and all kitchens on campus. He also gives pretty good (sometimes questionable?) advice. His eyes are kind of scary.

You’re there when he and Toge are nearly decimated by the Grade 1 curse in the abandoned market. He still doesn’t understand much about sorcery at this point, so seeing people like you and Toge in action is awe-inspiring to say the least. Yuuta knows that Toge is nothing short of amazing, but he can’t help but to be drawn into you, you, you—your energy, your fighting style, the seemingly never-ending applications of your technique. Cursed energy in and of itself is still a foreign concept to him, so perhaps it’s that seeing you use the reverse of it so effortlessly is even more novel to him.

He can hear Rika strumming in the back of his mind, an indistinct itch and hum that sounds vaguely like laughter at his self-justification. He chooses to ignore her.

After, while he’s still buzzing with the tingly warm sensation of your technique after you’d patched him up, Gojo finds him, and Yuuta, unable to keep up a façade, pours all his anxious, worried, inquisitive feelings about his mission on the table.

“The way that (_____) can heal wounds... is that something I can learn?” Yuuta questions his teacher, eyes tired but genuine and earnest.

And Gojo, all knowing and absolutely singing at the implications, smiles so wide he’s certain his newest student could see the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, even through the dark tint of his glasses. “Maybe.”

He goes on, leaning back into the old loveseat, one leg crossed over his other knee, “You’ll probably be able to learn to heal yourself with reversed cursed technique, but using it to heal others is difficult and rare. Shoko and (_____) are the only people I know who can do it.”

“Is… did she get to learn it because she’s a Grade 1?” He remembers Maki explaining the ranking system for Jujutsu sorcerers. You and Toge were ranked the highest in the class, and amongst the other Kyoto students; it would make sense that you two have learned more applications of your techniques due to your higher placements.

Gojo chuckles, much to Yuuta’s confusion. “That’s not quite how it works—and if it were, then you’d already know because you’re a Special Grade. You don’t unlock new lessons as you move up, you move up because of how well you’ve learned to control and apply your own cursed technique.”

Right. That makes sense. Except Yuuta knows that his classification of Special Grade is a bit of a cheat because he can’t control or apply his cursed energy half as well as any of his classmates. He has Rika to thank for his immediate promotion, not himself or his own skills.

“In any case, if you do learn it, you’ll never be able to execute it like her, that’s for certain. Reversed cursed technique is complicated to learn and nearly impossible to teach. It’s one of those things you truly have to figure out for yourself when the timing is right—I only got it when I was on the brink of death. It’s 100% effective on the person doing it, but only 50% effective when applied to other people by the user,” Gojo says, “Except for (_____). She was born with reversed cursed energy, which is why she has an almost 100% output on herself and others, so she’s extra special. ”

Yuuta frowns. He never expected to do anything half as well as you, but knowing there’s only half a chance that he could, literally, only ever meet you half-way is frustrating. You can save him time and time and time again, as you already have, and all he can do is be a wound for you to stitch back together.

It must be difficult for you. A similar thought had crossed his mind when he first met Shoko-san, feeling bad for her having to carry the burden of healing others, knowing that she could never receive the same treatment in return. It’s worse for you, though, to be an angel amongst the men on this Earth—it’s not fair that you can give so much to help, and nobody can do the same for you. Yuuta wants to give something to you, he wants to devote himself to you, so at the very least, you have that. If he can’t give you anything else, he can give you himself.

Gojo laughs at Yuuta’s silence, kicking his legs up on the coffee table. “That’s hard for you to hear, huh? Ha! You truly are a lover, not a fighter, Yuuta.”

Yuuta blinks at him. “I, uh... thank you?” He says, even though he’s not so certain that those two things are discernable.

“Right now, the best thing for you to do is focus on controlling Rika and your cursed energy. That way, (_____) can also focus on fighting, and not healing, when you’re on missions together. The stronger you are, the less she’ll have to clean up after you,” Gojo advises.

He puts his feet back on the floor and uses the leverage to lean over, a bit too close for Yuuta’s comfort. “The only thing you can do for her is to learn to help yourself.”

Yuuta’s eyes go wide. He wants to—he wants to help you, wants to help himself, wants to help others, too. There’s a selfish twang for a moment, the thought of not needing you anymore tugging at his heart, but Rika reminds him that he’ll still want you.

Then an even scarier thought crosses his mind. “What happens if I don’t learn to control this? What happens if I curse her instead?”

Yuuta trembles at the thought, breathing and heartbeat erratic, his sensei moving back a bit. Rika is there again, reassuring him that he never hurt her, that his love never hurts, that the only person he’s ever truly harmed is himself by isolation of his own feelings. Trust her, Rika demands, she can handle this.

You can. Can you? You have, so far. You don’t run, you don’t push, you give, and give, and give to him; Rika was kind and playful and took and took and took Yuuta’s loneliness and sickness in stride and he still cursed her, seemingly for all eternity. He wants to love and be loved, but not if it means hurting you—isn’t it bad enough that he’s already inept at healing your wounds? Why should he risk giving you more?

“Yuuta,” Gojo calls him out of his thoughts, “I’m disappointed.”

That truly breaks Yuuta’s cyclical monologue. “I—disappointed?”

Gojo ticks his tongue, shakes his head and points a finger in accusation, “You should know your fellow classmates better by now. (_____) is not that weak or scared,” he chastises, “You’re so worried about cursing her that you haven’t realized that she is the only person so far to have effectively used her curse on you.”

Yuuta pauses, eyes wet with the awful realization that Gojo was right. You have already cursed him; your technique has already gotten past the barrier of his curse. You’ve cursed him. He never stopped to think that it was possible, worried only about himself. How selfish—he shares Gojo’s disappointment in himself.

He’s spent so much time loathing his jealous mind and decaying heart that he hasn’t opened his eyes to see you that you’ve found him. You can poison anything he does, and make the antidote with equal ease; how stupidly naive of Yuuta to think that he could be the one to diagnose or treat you better than you could him, or yourself.

“I’m sorry, sensei,” Yuuta dips his head, and also spares you an internal apology, “I understand better, now.”

“Is that so?” Gojo muses, leaning back into the sofa. His eyes scan Yuuta’s when his head is raised again, that knowing grin creeping back up on his lips. “Well, if you still want to know more about reversed curse technique, or want help learning it, it’s not an entirely lost cause. I’m definitely not the person for this lesson, but, you know who is?”

Yuuta feels a sense of whiplash from the change in Gojo’s demeanor. Confusion clouds his mind again, and he shrugs, “Um... Shoko-sensei?”

Gojo makes a loud buzzer noise, complete with crossing his arms in front of his chest in a big ‘X.’ Yuuta frowns again. Is that where Toge learned to do that?

“Wrong! I’m talking about (_____), obviously!” Gojo claps his hands together, before lowering his glasses to wiggle his eyebrows, “Tutoring is a textbook way to get some alone time, kiddo. You want to spend more time with her outside of class and missions, right?”

“I want to spend all my time with her,” Yuuta confesses, mindlessly. And foolishly, he soon realizes, when he sees that Gojo’s grin has tripled; and he’s quick to flash his hands to correct himself, “No—not like that—not in a creepy way! I just... I want to get to know her better, like you said.”

Yuuta’s awkward chuckles fill the space, and he can feel his insides burning from his cheeks all the way down to his hands. Would he ever be able to think coherently or tactfully when it came to you?

“So, uh... I... it’s okay if I ask her about this stuff, too?”

“Some sorcerers don’t like talking about their cursed techniques. But (_____) might not mind. You won’t know until you try.”

Yuuta nods shallowly. Try. He can do that—if not for himself, then for you; he can try for you. All you need from him is to accept your course of treatment; to love you is to let you curse him, completely.

“I’m a firm believer that all’s fair in love and war,” Gojo stands, stretching into Yuuta’s space to ruffle his hair. He leans down further, giving him a glimpse of his glowing eyes before sparing him a wink, “So, be a little greedy, and give it your best shot.”

#3 — Social media is the most twisted curse out there. It makes you feel so close, yet is a stark reminder of just how far you are from the person on the other end of the screen.

Yuuta has never considered himself good with technology. Even before Rika’s incident, he often felt ostracized by his peers because he didn’t have the same interest in or experience with games and cartoons. He had no reason to have a computer or a phone until enrolling at Jujutsu Tech, and there was an evident learning curve in navigating the devices. Toge often snickered watching Yuuta use his smartphone with the dexterity of a senior citizen.

He only barely set up Instagram and TikTok accounts with Toge’s help, but he doesn’t really get the idea of followers—why would people who don’t know him want to follow him? Why would he follow them? He doesn’t know many memes or jokes and even after seeing them, he doesn’t think many are all that funny, but he laughs anyway.

He doesn’t have much time to perfect his social media and meme skills, anyway. He’s dedicated to training and gaining mission experience—which pays off when Geto declares war on the school by the end of the year. Yuuta remembers how you returned his phone to him the next day, a few cracks and black, dark spots on the screen, giggling that you’d found it in the rubble, but that even your reverse cursed technique couldn’t fix its scars.

He thinks he gets the hang of it in the end—the basics of communication and the appeal behind connection with others through it—even going so far as to trade selfies with Gojo sometimes, who always seemed happy to receive them, no matter how much post-exorcism curse gunk Yuuta was covered in.

He also frequently exchanges texts with you. He much prefers to see you in person, but when you’re stuck for long hours in the ER, or away from campus on your own missions, Yuuta has grown fond of receiving your messages. He always attempts to read them in your voice and imagine your facial expressions to match those of the emojis you send. He hasn’t quite gotten the hang of those yet, doesn’t understand what Toge means when he says that not all smiley faces are created equally, so to save himself the trouble, and potential embarrassment, he’s opted to use emoticons instead. Which, if you asked him, has been working out in his favor, seeing as you call them cute.

Yuuta also uses the safety of his phone screen to implement some of Gojo’s advice; picking your brain about curses, sorcery, and healing via text message for just long enough for you to say it’s easier to explain in person to come to him and teach him in your spare time. Soon these study sessions turn into texts asking to hang out outside of class and missions and work, and Yuuta couldn’t be more elated. The screen he once scorned at seemed to be his one-way ticket to being able to talk to his favorite person constantly.

But Yuuta never thought it would become his only means of communication with you. He’s devastated when you break the news to him, over half-finished oolong tea and nervous finger-twiddling.

“You’re leaving?” He echoes, hoping he doesn’t sound too much like a heartbroken child, even though that’s exactly how he feels.

It’s quiet outside of the tea shop where you two sit, nearing seven in the evening; only the soft sounds of other customers conversing behind you two inside, distant cars on the main street, and the sound of Yuuta’s heart beating frantically.

“Not leaving leaving,” you clarify, pausing your finger twirling to place one of your hands over Yuuta’s on the table, “I’m still studying, but I’m being sent abroad for a bit.”

He should be focused on the fact that you’re touching his hand—Yuuta should be happy! Rika still cheers for you in his mind, but her voice is quieter now—but Yuuta can’t. He’s focused on everything else, spiraling about the implications of your words. You’re leaving... going away from him when things are going so well.

Yuuta was so happy when you taught him the reversed curse technique, even happier when he realized he did have the ability to heal others, knowing it also meant having the ability to help you relieve some of your burdens. That didn’t mean that he didn’t still want to give himself to you, he would if you’d have him—but now he wouldn’t have the chance.

“I haven’t told anyone else yet—Gojo only told me this morning,” you mumble, “I’m going to miss you all a lot, but we can still text every day! I don’t know how long the time difference will be, but we can FaceTime.”

It’s not lost on Yuuta that he is the first person that you’ve told about this. It’s another thing to be happy about, another little victory he never thought he’d achieve, but it’s still overpowered by the dread of you leaving him.

He blinks, placing his other hand atop yours, sandwiching them between his, “How long?” Yuuta can’t read the expression on your face, but you don’t pull your hand away. He’s glad. He didn’t think when he’d done it, but the lack of rejection feels good—your touch always feels good, reverse cursed energy or not.

“I’m… not sure—a few months at least, maybe until the end of the year,” you admit, squeezing his hand, “There are some cursed objects and scrolls they want me to help recover, and Gojo says I get to work with another Special Grade sorcerer, too.”

His hands feel so good, so warm, but everything else about Yuuta feels cold, icy with dread and fear. You’re going away for a long time, and he won’t get to see you or hear you laugh or feel your warmth while you’re gone. His sunny days are going away, and Yuuta honestly doesn’t know how many more overcast skies and rain clouds he can take.

And it’s selfish, he knows. He should be happy for you—you were chosen for this mission, for this training; you’re getting the chance to use your skills to help others, and train even further. So, why couldn’t he be happy for you? Why could he only feel a pit in his stomach about the thought of you leaving and meeting some other Special Grade who’s rightfully deserving of their title? Not only had he lost the thing that brought him to you in the first place, but you’re about to find another replacement. Sure, with or without Rika’s curse, Yuuta had become so much stronger, but what’s it worth if he couldn’t keep you by his side?

“Tsukumo is supposed to be really cool, but you’ll always be my favorite Special Grade, Yuuta,” you taunt with a smile.

Yuuta’s eyes go wide and watery with wobbly lips and flushed cheeked and sweaty palms to match. Favorite. Favorite, favorite, favorite. The word spoken in your voice rings in his head like a beautiful chime, the tones washing over him and erasing all his fear and doubt and insecurity.

You had called Yuuta your favorite. Sure, he’s still upset when he and the other first-years drop you off at the airport too weeks later, he still cries the first night you’re gone, still nearly breaks his knee trying to jump for his phone the first time that you call; but it’s okay because Yuuta is living off of the temporary high of being your favorite.

And also, because, in the end, your separation seems to have been inevitable. Not a month after everyone bids you farewell from Jujutsu Tech, Gojo tells him that he’s next on the docket to be sent abroad. He’s happy for a split second, thinking that he might get sent off to Europe where you’re still working with Tsukumo, but then Yuuta learns his true fate: studying under the tutelage of Miguel in Kenya; equal parts away from his classmates in Tokyo, and from you in Barcelona.

Whoever said distance makes the heart grow fonder was a liar and a bitch, because the favorite boy honeymoon comes to an end when Yuuta settles into his new room and makes his first call to you from Nairobi. The feeling and reality of being alone, and even further away from you finally hits him. Still, he relishes in the sound of your voice; fantasizes that when you reach for your phone to show him your new things, it’s you reaching for his hand; dreams of you laying next to him when you fall asleep on the call, and desperately wishes that he could touch you, hold you, kiss you.

He really wants to kiss you. He thinks he’s probably always wanted to kiss you, from the very moment his feelings for you started to grow; even if he couldn’t discern them at first, he knows now—Yuuta knows that he misses you like he’s never missed anyone before. The grief of losing part of Rika, and then losing his proximity to you merely weeks apart is finally catching up to him, and it’s morphing into a yearning that tugs on his heartstrings and rattles his brain.

He knows that the rate of growth of his feelings for you hasn’t been steady, but he blames you for that. You’re the reason he loves you so much, the reason he can’t sleep at night, the reason he learns how to bring Rika back—because he thinks of you, you, you, and how he lost Rika once, and he’d be a fool to lose you twice.

Yuuta thinks it’s no coincidence that your cursed technique has the ability to alter him in mind and body. You have so much ownership over him and you probably don’t even know that Yuuta has spent every single moment of his life living and breathing for you since you’ve met.

And you take his breath away yet again, when he gets to see you in Germany. Miguel is taking him to Switzerland on a classified mission, and you and Tsukumo are on your way to Austria, and by some great miracle, your layovers align. When he sees you waving to him down the long corridor in the airport, it feels like a scene straight out of his dreams. Yuuta spares no time trying to look cool or nonchalant; making a beeline to you, desperate to feel your touch after so long.

He’s breathless in those ten minutes that you’re reunited. Everything is too short, but he does his best to live in it all. He speaks a mile a minute, cramming in anything he hadn’t already revealed to you in your many late-night FaceTimes, and swallowing everything you tell him. He wants to believe that he’d made the best of what little time he had with you, but the truth is he didn’t. Because while you were smiling and hugging and telling him that you missed him, all Yuuta really wanted to do was kiss you—and if he were a smarter man, a better man, he would have.

He thinks, for a split second, that you might have wanted to kiss him too—when you rock back on your heels after saying good-bye, hesitating for just a moment, almost expectantly, before your eyes flutter away. He’ll never know, because he never asked, he never tried, he never said—only whispered, pathetically, to himself as he watches the silhouette of you and Tsukomo before you disappear for boarding, that he loves you.

He almost believes that you hear it when you turn over your shoulder after his quiet confession. Would it have been better that way—if he kissed you, or confessed in the heat of the moment—or would it be taking advantage of an otherwise beautiful moment? Yuuta will never know, and the what if tantalizes him.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens the thread of your messages. He starts typing, then stops. Backspace. Start typing. Pause. Read, re-read. Delete. Groan.

What’s the point? He can’t kiss you through the screen, and he’ll be damned if the first time he tells you that he’s in love with you is via phone call. He slumps his shoulders, and Miguel gives him a pity pat on the back. Yuuta goes to lock his phone when he sees the gray thought bubbles pop up below your last message and his entire body goes rigid in anticipation.

[received] 03:27 PM — [attachment: 1 image] — you should keep a closer eye on your things yuuta — i miss you already (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

Yuuta’s heart stops when he sees the picture of you in your seat, wearing his white uniform jacket. He doesn’t know when you snuck it away from him, but that doesn’t matter—like anything else, he would have willingly given it to you, and then some. It looks much better on you anyway, and Yuuta pinches his eyes shut for a brief moment, to swallow down the thoughts threatening to swarm his mind of you in his arms, in other clothes, in his bed.

He opens his eyes, takes a deep breath, and lets the warm, gooey feeling settle into his veins, and moves his fingers to type.

[sent] 03:38 PM — keep it, you can have anything of mine you want — i miss you more (๑′ ᴗ ‵๑)♥

You heart his messages and let him know you’re taking off soon, and putting your phone on airplane mode until you land. He’s not so confident to send a picture in return, unless you ask for it. Maybe you will, when you’re in Austria. He’ll have to work on his selfies.

He takes another once over the picture you sent, committing the idea of you in his clothes to memory. He knows the messages won’t delete themselves, but he takes a screenshot for safekeeping anyway. Maybe phones aren’t so bad, afterall.

#4 — Do not kill Itadori Yuuji. Under any circumstances. Even if some days you really feel like it. Also, sign up for a Crunchyroll subscription.

Yuuta can confidently say that his training abroad was both the most difficult and fulfilling thing he’s ever experienced. He believes that the change he’s endured is mostly good—he’s physically stronger, emotionally wiser, and overall more confident in himself and his cursed technique. One year ago, he would have been content with dying, but now he has more than enough reasons to keep living. He has people who care about him, and who would miss him if he were gone; and he’s got someone he would miss a whole bunch, too, should anything happen to them.

By miss Yuuta means that he might burn down a small town, might level a city, might flip the entire world on its axis if something were to happen to you. In his defense, he’d go to extremes for most of his friends—but for you, there’s truly nothing he wouldn’t risk.

He figured that out in his time abroad, too; came to terms with the fact that he’s selfish with his love. He loves too much, too hard, too close, and he isn’t very willing to share. He doesn’t see it as a bad thing, anymore, either—Yuuta knows now that the way he loves makes him who he is, and right now, he has the confidence to say that he likes that person, and that he loves you, undoubtedly.

So, forgive him if there’s a cloud of negative energy the size of a coach bus looming over him at the moment, because since you’ve returned to campus, Itadori Yuuji has been slobbering over you like a lovesick puppy.

Because apparently, you happen to know Itadori Yuuji—as in, since you were four and he was three, all the way up until your senior year of highschool, when you were scouted by Gojo, who, believes that you coming home from your study abroad trip would be the perfect time to reunite two best friends who hadn’t seen or heard from each other for the better part of two years—all while keeping this little reunion a secret from everybody, including you and Itadori.

A surprise, it certainly is, when the first time that Yuuta and the other second-years see you in months is on the dingy couch in the common room, under a cuddle pile of the first-years. Nobara’s arms wrapped around your left arm, body slumped against your side, Megumi’s long limbs stretching over Itadori’s torso, leaving the palm of his hand resting on your thigh. Far too close for Yuuta’s comfort. The only saving grace is that the jacket he loaned you is also spread across your lap, offering another layer between your body and his palm. And then there’s Itadori Yuuji, squished right between you and Megumi, with his head on your shoulder, his arms around your waist, and your free arm slung around his neck.

Yuuta should have been relishing in the fact that you were finally home, but all his focus is drawn to the way your position allows Itadori to cuddle right into you, to the way your arm is around his shoulder and your cheek pressed against the top of his head. You two might as well have been in your own little world, and Yuuta hates it. And, as if that’s not enough, the realization that he was not the first person to hug you or welcome you home clicks, and his anger bubbles deeper.

Next comes dread, that creeps in slowly when you and the first-years wake up, and you and Itadori go on and on and on about how surprised you were to see each other at the airport, how Itadori just assumed that when Gojo said he’d assigned them to “pick up something super special,” that he was messing with them, how you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of your precious, precious kouhai that you’d missed so dearly.

Childhood best friends brought back together through sorcery. Yuuta’s seen that one before, and he didn’t like the ending.

You and Itadori mend the gap in your friendship like two years of no contact was nothing, falling into a pattern that’s so easy and familiar, that it’s painful for Yuuta to watch. The assumption that you’d died, and the knowledge that Yuuji had actually died only served to strengthen your vows to protect each other in the name of your friendship from here on out.

Yuuta considers putting his own sword through his chest if it means you’ll swear your devotion to him. If he died, would you cry for him? Would you pray over his grave and beg for him to come back to you?—or would you find comfort in those who kept living, find solace in a friend who came back for you and can still hold you in his arms?

“Tsuna tsuna,” he hears from his left, followed by a mischievous giggle. Toge’s taunting is hardly enough to pull Yuuta out of his cloud of rage, but the blunt end of Maki’s staff is.

“Will you stop pining so damn hard?” she sneers, whipping the staff back to her side and placing a hand on her hip, “Not only is it pathetic, it’s gonna attract curses like flies to honey.”

“Why am I the only one getting hit?” He turns to his right to motion to Megumi, who seems to be brooding just as hard. Megumi respects you, but it was easy to see that he was reaching his limit on sharing his recently revived lover with someone else. Maki huffs, “Because he doesn’t have a literal cloud of darkness looming around him.”

Yuuta sighs, doing his best to reign in his feelings, but it’s pointless once he hears your laughter across the field—light and airy and sunshiney and all because of Itadori Yuuji.

What were you two talking about? If Itadori were out of the way, would you pledge yourself to Yuuta? Did he ever hold a space comparable to Itadori in your heart—would you let him?

A broken chord strikes Yuuta’s heart when he realizes that Itadori is the person you told him about last year; the person you missed so much, and you never thought you’d be able to see again; the person that Yuuta reminded you of; the person he was happy and eager to be for you. And now, in knowing Itadori, Yuuta thinks that his willingness was beautifully naive—to think that he could compare to someone like this. Itadori is light, where Yuuta is dark; he sees the best in people, where Yuuta manages to come off on the wrong foot always; he perseveres in faith and determination, where Yuuta is fueled by an anxious desire to prove, prove, prove himself to be worth something to anybody.

He can see how easy it is to love Itadori. It’s easy to cling to faith, to believe in something higher than yourself, to know that someone above can pull you up. Yuuta cannot compete where he cannot compare; he’s a shadow that engulfs you, takes you away from light, a dream that’s hard to wake up from. He could never be bright to you; his best attempt would probably drive you and him too close to the sun, martyred for love in burning flames.

Still, even in all his jealousy, Yuuta comes to the even more sobering realization that making Itadori disappear wouldn’t fix his problems. You told him he wasn’t Itadori’s replacement, but maybe that’s because he could never be him; maybe he doesn’t have to be. Yuuji could never be him, and he could never be Yuuji, but whether Yuuta likes it or not, he and Itadori are two sides of the same coin; and as such, Yuuta has, begrudgingly, grown to feel the same sense of responsibility over the younger boy that you do.

So, even though he never expected that they would both be at the mercy of your hand at the same time in this lifetime, he absolutely cannot kill Itadori Yuuji. Not only would it make you sad, but it would probably make Yuuta even sadder in the end, somehow. What a bother.

He’s about to get up—to leave, maybe go over there, he doesn’t know yet—but he stops when he hears a calm buzzing by his ear. Yuuta blinks, slowly, shoulders relaxing unconsciously, allowing the larger than normal honey-bee to land on him. He recognizes it as one of your shikigami—and even if he hadn’t, that familiar, cooling sensation that washes over him would have let him know—so, gently, he lifts a hand across his torso, allowing it to crawl onto his finger, and strum its tune.

Yuuta can feel a few more, hear them humming around him, and he closes his eyes, lets the small group of bees flutter around him and all that looming jealousy dissipates from his body.

Faintly, past the calm hum of the small swarm, Yuuta can hear the call of Yuuji’s voice, petulant, “Aw, no fair. Fushiguro, I want calming shikigami, too! Can you bring out the bunnies? Please.”

Beside him, Toge and Maki seem bemused by his newly calmed state, then amused when Megumi sighs, stands, and reluctantly pulls his hands together before a couple dozen white rabbits flood the field and hop onto Yuuji.

The buzzing grows softer, and then quiet. Briefly, Yuuta feels a bee land on his cheek, before it flies away, leaving the smell of fresh pollen in his wake, and when he blinks his eyes open again, you’re there, in front of him with a smile sweeter than anything he’s ever known.

“Hope they didn’t scare you,” you muse, waving a finger before the last bee hovering around you disappears, “You seemed upset, everything alright?”

He’s about to open his mouth to say something, anything, when he’s cut off by Itadori Yuuji once again, with one bunny on either shoulder, and three more cradled in his arms. “Hey, doesn’t (_____) totally remind you guys of Sakura!” 

Maki scoffs, albeit with amusement, as she points her staff at Yuuji’s hair. “If anyone bears resemblance to Sakura, it’s you, Itadori.” 

Yuuji actually makes an attempt to look at his own hair before chuckling. Yuuta flashes a look to Megumi, who looks equal parts exasperated and enchanted. Yuuta doesn’t get the reference, and when Inumaki starts making gestures about how Yuuji is like some Naruto guy and Yuuji screams about how Megumi resembles a Shikamaru, he becomes too afraid to ask. 

You seemed charmed at the end of the discussion, when everybody fundamentally agrees that you’re the Sakura of the group. Yuuta is far less charmed by these comparisons (and it has nothing to do with the fact that he didn’t get one). He doubts that this Sakura person can do what you can do, doubts that Sakura is even worthy enough to be compared to you, whoever she may be. 

And maybe Yuuta goes back to his room to watch several compilation videos about ships in Naruto later that day, but nobody has to know that. From what he’s gathered, Sakura is pretty cool, and even though Yuuji bears the most physical resemblance to her, he can see why everyone agrees that your healing abilities compare well to hers. Yuuta thinks you’re better, and he’s still holding out hope that there’s some other character equivalent for you that Itadori didn’t think of, that Yuuta can, just to prove that he knows you better. He doesn’t fight any comparisons between Gojo and Kakashi, though. That one honestly freaked him out a little.

If it turns out that you’re Sakura, then he should hope to be Sasuke, but Yuuta thinks this dude is kind of a dick. From the 47 minutes of scattered Naruto content that he’s consumed, he actually much prefers the dynamic between Sakura and Naruto, even if that does equate to Itadori Yuuji having a crush on you, at least you’re out of his league and chasing after somebody else.

Still, he thinks Sakura would be upset if Naruto actually died, or worse, if Sasuke actually killed him—never mind the fact that apparently he tried to kill her? Yuuta would never do that, but Sakura still seems to like Sasuke after all of that... in any case, Itadori Yuuji must live, and Yuuta must accept his fate as Sasuke reborn.

Though, to Yuuta’s understanding so far, Sasuke and Naruto are destined to duke it out and if only one of them has to survive, then maybe it’s not so bad to be this guy. Yuuta doesn’t know how it ends between them, but he thinks he could take on Itadori Yuuji if he had to. He won’t because he’s your friend, and Yuuta’s friend now, too, but if Itadori or the curse inside of him acts up, then Yuuta can at least rest assured he can put a stop to it. That’s not something he could have guaranteed a year ago, but now, he can.

Yuuta sighs, finally locking his phone and shoving his head under his blanket. He’s been knee deep in analyses about Sakura ships for the past two and a half hours now, and he’ll admit Sasuke is growing on him, but not much. His only saving grace seems to be that Sakura is madly, unconditionally in love with him; Yuuta wouldn’t mind having that kind of devotion from you. He turns to lay on his back, staring up at the blank ceiling and wonders: if it came down to saving only one of them, would Sakura pick Naruto or Sasuke... would you choose the boy who’s loved and looked up to you since you were kids, or the boy who sacrificed everything in hopes of gaining enough strength so that what happened to him never happens to anyone else.

Maybe they answer that in the series, Yuuta reasons. 720 episodes, at 20 minutes per episode... if he devotes about half-a-day to watching Naruto, then he can breeze through it in a little over two weeks, maybe sooner if he uses his weekends efficiently. That’s plausible, and by the end of it, Yuuta is certain that he’ll have the answers he needs—and even if it doesn’t, then at least, he’ll have one more thing to talk to you about.

In the end, Sakura picks Sasuke, Naruto marries somebody else, and Yuuta understands that the two were never opposites, but complements, and that Itadori Yuuji-shaped pit in his stomach dissipates. Still, about three weeks later at breakfast he makes the argument that if anything you’re more akin to Tsunade, minus the gambling addiction, and that gets him rave reactions from everyone, including you, who is more than happy to show him your new slug shikigami as a means of commemorating your new Naruto kin.

Believe that, Itadori.

#5 — None of this matters if you don’t kiss her. You have to kiss the girl—or she’ll get mad enough to the point where she’ll kiss you.

The following month comes your indictment into the Semi-Special Grade hall of responsibility. Yuuta vaguely recalls Gojo’s lecture on how people don’t really get promoted to Special Grade—it’s classification you’re born or cursed with, like himself, or Yuuji, or Tsukumo—but, you, of course, defy all odds and expand everything Yuuta knows. Nobody is surprised—Yuuta thinks everyone was among the similar thought that you were undoubtedly unique amongst your classmates, in a way that was different from him or Yuuji. Being born with a body that generates reversed cursed energy instead of cursed energy is deserving of Special Grade status if you asked him; he doesn’t know what pushed the higher-ups into finally acknowledging your skill, but he knows it’s well-past due. And while he’s happy you’re getting recognition for your efforts, Yuuta would never wish to saddle you with half of the shit the higher-ups put him through.

They better hope that Yuuta doesn’t find out that they’re plotting anything with you, lest they meet the end of his sword.

Part of your promotion entails a dual-degree program that will have you starting medical school next fall. Yuuta almost cries at the thought of you being sent away again, until you tell him that Gojo managed to pull a few strings this time—to fund everything and keep you in Tokyo.

And even though you’re not licensed to treat civilians yet, you’re already more than experienced with taking care of and healing your fellow sorcerers, which lends Shoko’s promotional gift to be a shiny new office, right across from hers. Yuuta is the first person you invite inside, and he brings you a photo of you, him, Maki, and Toge from last year—honestly, probably the only photo the four of you have together—to christen your desk, and a plaque with your name on it for the door, that he may or may not have fantasized about it reading with your first name and his last name on it instead.

To no surprise, your office becomes a safe haven of sorts. Yuuta would define any time or place with you as a safe haven, but there’s something special about this place. Maybe Yuuta is still leaping from this being the second time you’ve chosen him. He’s the first person to see your office, the first person to sit at your chair, your first official patient when he stubs his toe against the corner of your desk (where he left the first decorative object). Maybe it’s a little far to say that this place has him all over it as much as it does you, but Yuuta likes the sound of that.

When he comes back from gruesome missions, he’s invited to let himself in, no matter how much blood he’s covered in, and you’ll be there to take care of him. It’s not different than before—not different than even last year when he’d waddled in your shadow to the room across the hall and sat down with heart palpitations while you fixed his wrist—but something about this feels special. It holds a different weight than hanging out in your dorm or cooking together in the kitchen; this office is yours, the things you say and do to him here are confidential, the yearning for and almost-kisses you almost have are for you and him alone; within these four walls, you’re free to curse him completely.

So, he’s understandably upset when your office becomes a cozy corner for the other students as well. Maki likes to take refuge inside to study alone, Panda and Toge have been caught on more than one occasion attempting to wrap gauze around each other like zombies, Megumi uses your supplies and basic first-aid lessons to prepare small kits for him and the other first-years, hell, even Gojo has been found asleep in your office on more than one occasion. He gets why people are drawn to you like a magnet, why you’re comforting, and welcoming, and a source of warmth for them, but that doesn’t mean that Yuuta likes to share you. It’s much harder to almost-kiss you this way.

He must have pouted loud enough about it, because shortly after, instead of inviting Yuuta to your office for lunch, you ask him to meet you on the field. Not one to question you, he obeys, and soon, instead he’s met with an entirely new safe haven, sitting criss-cross inside your domain with all your shikigami slithering and fluttering and buzzing about him. A butterfly lands on his nose, and Yuuta’s nose crinkles. You lean in to let it crawl on your finger instead, and don’t lean too far back when you slowly begin to explain to him the intricacies of your domain and how it all comes together.

It’s amazing, surely. Yuuta listens as best he can, but it’s hard when there’s a halo of butterflies around you, and a symphony of bees buzzing in his ear, and a slug kissing at his hand, and a snake coiling around his body and gently massaging his muscles, and your voice sound so soft and warm, and you look so pretty and, and, and he wants to kiss you again.

He wants to kiss you really badly. He wonders if that’s part of your domain—honestly, he’d wondered if that magnetic, honey-like attraction he has to you is in any part influenced by your healing nature—wonders if the confines of your space exacerbates the flow of blood to his heart and his cheeks and his—

“Are you listening?” you question, that glowing, addictive smile on your face, “You know I can make the snake bite, the bees sting.”

God, Yuuta wants to kiss you. He wants to live in the spring garden of your love forever, and ever, and roll around in the grass and drink honey with you, and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you. You could keep him here forever, he’d be perfectly content with living his days wrapped up in your curse.

Yuuta shakes his head to snap out of his daydream, disrupting a few butterflies in the process. “I—sorry,” he apologies, “I’m listening now.”

You hum, folding your legs underneath your knees and sitting before him. Yuuta’s certain he looks slightly ridiculous, covered head to toe in animals and small insects and burning underneath your gaze—wasn’t this domain supposed to help people feel better? Is there no cure for lovesickness that you can use on him—or, at the very least, embarrassment?

“I asked you why you won’t kiss me.”

Yuuta knows that if he weren’t in your domain right now, he would have fallen to a sudden death. “I—I, um,” words, Yuuta, words; a bee lands on his cheek, he takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry.”

That doesn’t seem like the right answer, judging by the twist of your lips. Of course it’s not—because it’s a lie, and you know it, and you know he knows that you know it. How could he be sorry for wanting you, for spending every last waking moment breathing for you, hoping that you’ll end his laborious breaths and pour air into him yourself?

“You know, I brought you in here to make sure that you wouldn’t run or pass out on me,” you confess, reaching out your hand towards him; the tip of your finger barely grazes his cheek as you allow the bee to crawl onto you, “I worry about your heart more than I should.”

You flick your finger gently, allowing the bee to flutter freely and your eyes to focus back on Yuuta’s, “Right now, in this domain, it’s mine to control. To stop, to beat.” It’s yours outside of here, too; to fix, to break. He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows. “Why won’t you let me have it, Yuuta?”

Yuuta gasps, and despite his surprise, despite his extreme lovesickness, despite his dark desires, his heartbeat remains steady, his body remains perfectly tempered and cool, his voice resonates clearly—all because of you.

“You’ve always had it,” he confesses, “Always. From the moment I met you.”

He can’t read your expression. He’s suddenly hyper aware of the power struggle here; domain aside, you can hear everything about him, sense the slightest physiological change in him, alter any one of his bodily functions at your whim and Yuuta doesn’t know what goes on in you. Would it be wrong to confess that he likes it; that this feels like you having him, that he likes knowing you can take him?

“I thought so, maybe,” you enlighten him, “Last year with all the calls and texts,” you lean over and set free a butterfly from his shoulder, “And then in the airport,” then guiding the snake to coil around your arm and around your torso, “And then I thought maybe you’d have said something when you were jealous of Yuuji,” this time your hand touches him, a feather-light touch to his elbow, “But you didn’t, and I was beginning to wonder if I was hearing your heart beat for someone else, instead.”

Yuuta grabs at your hand erratically, “No—no. Never.”

He’s senselessly in love with you, and if it weren’t for your healing hands, Yuuta’s certain his ribs would have cracked from the pressure of his happy heart by now; but then again, maybe he should ask you to let it break—let that fracture serve as an entry point for you and yours, to prove to you that it beats for you and you alone.

“So then what is with you? You have a habit of giving girls your heart and not kissing them, or asking them out—is it always straight to marriage with you?”

It’s torture hearing that word fall from your lips. He doesn’t have time to even begin to process it. Yuuta’s eyes flicker to the smile on your lips, the slight tilt of your head. He says something he shouldn’t, “Would you be opposed to that?”

“I’d like a kiss first,” you tease, “Would you give me one?”

And how could he ever deny you anything. There, with a harmony of beautiful insects and warm sunlight, Yuuta finally, finally, takes the last move forward to kiss you. It’s everything he wants and exactly as he’d imagined—he can feel the rush in his bones, the want in his stomach, the love against his skin when you fall into him.

It’s one kiss, and another, and then Yuuta can feel your tongue against his, greedily falling into the rush of you. He’s everywhere, hands on your neck, lips on yours, body stradling yours when he carefully leans you backwards; Yuuta has you, and you have him, and he won’t let this moment go to waste. He pulls away for a moment, only a moment, to take in your kiss-swollen lips and commit this vision to memory. He’ll have to take another visual photograph outside of your domain, when your bodies are free to breathe erratically and equilibrium is broken so you and truly, truly, feel all of Yuuta’s love in earnest.

He wonders if it’s the effect of your domain that prevents his nerves from running haywire when you take off his shirt, when you let him take off your pants, when you have your hands on his chest and his on your hips. It must be. Yuuta knows for certain that otherwise, he’d be a blushing mess of fumbling limbs and stuttering words.

Still, Yuuta thinks, domain or no domain, he wouldn’t let this moment pass him. It’s not nerves when his hand brushes over your clothed clit and he hears you moan—even if it had been, that would have been the antidote to his poison. Lust, pressure, possession wash over him in excruciating waves. He wants more. He wants you.

Impatience when he adds pressure with his hand, bliss when you buck your hips to add more of your own, greedily grinding against his fingers. Yuuta kisses you again, swallows your moans and feeds you his own when slips his hand past the barrier of your underwear, and he feels your warm, wet cunt against his fingertips for the first time, and when he pushes two fingers into your heat, he thinks he could cum right then and there, from this alone.

“Yu—Yuuta, more,” you plead. Your hand on his neck, fingernails scraping into his skin that should leave a mark. They probably won’t. He’ll be sure that next time they stick.

And Yuuta, unable to deny you anything, obeys. He curls his fingers inside of you, thrusting gently at first, and then with more confidence—and warning, when he hears you snarl about not teasing. Ironic, he thinks, as he watches your lips fall open, since you’ve had him strung along since day one.

“I wanna—wanna cum with you inside,” you moan, a sound that Yuuta promises to commit to memory. Later, when his brain is working better, and the coil in his stomach isn’t so tight, and you’re not clenching around his fingers.

You’re greedy, and Yuuta’s never realized it. You suck him in and still want more, and you must know that he’ll give it to you. It should serve as a warning, you have the high-ground to take him any which way you want—for a fool, for granted, for yourself, for nobody else; so what does it say about him that it only spurs his arousal, that it makes him impossibly hard and he can feel himself leaking from the thought of it.

“I want that, too,” he reassures you, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, because you’re perfect for him, “But I want this first. Give me this first, please. Please.”

He thinks you might cry. The rational part of him knows you can regulate it, that you probably won’t; the sick part of him wants to see it, wants to know what it takes to make you lose control.

You call his name like a prayer, once, twice, and on the third time, Yuuta can feel it as much as he can hear it. He can feel the moment that your walls clench, and your eyes screw shut, and your body convulses around him. You’re beautiful, irreverent, and Yuuta thinks that being responsible for this is the greatest achievement of his life.

He wears your orgasm with pride, raking over you as you blink your eyes open to him again. You’re lucid too quickly, he really is going to have to take the time to enjoy this somewhere less controlled later, eagerly wrapping your hand around his wrist and forcing them to his mouth. Yuuta groans when he tastes you on his tongue, nothing short of euphoric, and he’s sure to taste every last drop.

You smile, and then laugh—an almost inaudibly giggle that has Yuuta smiling back reflexively. Like always, he follows your every move and succumbs to all your whims when you lean up to kiss him, and then coax off his pants and underwear, and line the tip of his dick up with your slit and pull him in, again, by the neck to bite at his ear, “Come on, Yuuta. Give it to me.”

An order, a promise, a plea—Yuuta vows to fulfill them all, determined and spell-bound when he sinks into you. He can only imagine what it feels like for you, but for him it’s warm, wet, soft, snug, sticky—like honey, like a bee drawn to sweetness. It’s good, too good, Yuuta doesn’t know how to last when you feel this good.

He can feel you everywhere, around his dick, your hands on his back, your breath on his cheek, your skin against his. He feels stuck to you, stuck in you, mind, body, and soul as one, unable to differentiate him from you, from you, from you.

“Fuck,” Yuuta stares, carefully swiping a thumb over your browbone, conscious but not in command on how deep he’s thrusting into you, “You’re so—fuck, I love you.” He wants to hear you say it back, he needs to, he has to. He can feel it again, stomach in knots, and nerves on fire, and skin sticky, and Yuuta has to know—“Please, please. Do you love me, too?”

You stutter, only from the rock of his hips into yours, reaching for his face and cradling it between healing hands, “Of course I love you, Yuuta.” His mouth opens, wobbly, and tears flow over his eyes—briefly, Yuuta thinks that it’s cruel that you’d let him cry; that you have command over every function in his body and that you’d let him cry, but he can’t bring himself to be upset. He’d probably have cried regardless, because hearing you say that you love him is a rush comparable only to burning tightness in his gut right now.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling his lips to yours when you finally let go together. Yuuta can feel you tight around him, when he cums; and an unfiltered harmony of moans and skin on skin when he lays on top of you, sinks into you. Your hands don’t leave his hair, and Yuuta finds bliss in your affection, in being in your arms, in being yours.

He doesn’t know how long you two stay like that, he doesn’t know if physical time passes in your domain, but it doesn’t matter. He’d stay here forever with you, let you use the full extent of your prowess to eat his heart out as sustenance, bleed for you to quench your thirst. He’d be everything you need and more; he’ll make sure that he’s all you want when it’s done and over.

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storiesfromafan · 11 months

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Yule Ball

A/N: back with another story, haha. This little baby hit me hard. Also quite happy with how it turned out :)

Pairing: Mattheo x Fem!Reader

Summary: what happens when you wait to be asked by our favourite Slytherin, but he ends up taking another girl. So you go screw it, lets go stag.

Yule Ball

Hogwarts was abuzz with talk of the Yule Ball. Every girl was a fuss with picking the right dress and shoes, and how they would do their hair. Not to mention getting a date for the ball. Even your best friend Pansy was a flutter with it all! She of course was going with Draco, and had picked her dress to match him. Tedious, the whole thing, you thought. But it wasn’t a common thing. Nor was the Triwizard Tournament. The Yule Ball was at the end of the week, you had reluctantly picked the dress and shoes. But did not have a date, yet.

“What do you mean you don’t have an escort for the Ball!?” Pansy said in shock, during lunch.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s no big deal” you shrugged, pushing your food around your plate.

“Yes it is, you can’t go alone” Pansy retorted as Draco, Blaise and Mattheo joined the table.

“Who can’t go alone? To what?” Draco asked, starting to put food on his plate.

“Y/N/N, she doesn’t have an escort for the Yule Ball” answered Pansy.

“Really Y/L/N? Thought you’d have a line of suitors” laughed Draco.

You rolled your eyes. “It wouldn’t be that long, but there have been a few that asked...”

“And you rejected them? Why?” questioned Pansy, with a sharp look at you.

“Keeping my options open” you replied casually. Though you knew why you rejected them, secretly hoping a curtain Slytherin heart throb would ask you.

“If I was you, I wouldn’t reject anyone else. Because before you know it there won’t be anyone available” Mattheo said matter-of-factly.

You gave him a pointed look. “And do you have a date?”

He smiled brightly, “of course. I’m going with Anna”, he looked down the table to a pretty blonde in your year, who sat in front of you in Potions class.

You felt your stomach drop at his words, and felt a sharp pain in your chest when you looked at the girl in question. So much for Mattheo asking you to the Yule Ball. But you put on a brave face, smile and congratulated him. Told him you hope they have a good time. All the while every word that left your mouth left a bad taste in its wake. The conversation dropped off about the ball, and back to classes. You had a few more bites of your food before pushing it away, appetite lost.

“I’m going to head to Potions. See you there Pans” you said getting up and grabbing your bag, then leaving before Pansy or anyone could say anything.

“Is she alright?” asked Mattheo looking at Pansy with concern.

“Yes, I believe she is” Pansy lied. Even without her friend telling her, she knew you had a thing for Mattheo and no doubt hoped he’d have asked you to go to the Ball.

The walk to Potions felt longer than normal. Students around you are conversing and laughing. Not to mention the over hearing of students asking each other to the Yule Ball. You frowned and cursed the social event. Yes you were being petty, yes you were bitter. And to cement your dislike you vowed to not even go. It wasn’t worth your time. Not when you’d see Mattheo and Anna together.

You weren’t sure when you started to like your friend. But it was obvious to you once you saw him on the train back to Hogwarts at the start of the year. It hit you like the Hogwarts Express the first time he looked at you with his deep brown eyes, flashing you a bright smile. It caused your breath to catch, and stomach to flip. After that every little thing he did, or said a curtain way, had an effect on you. How you’ve managed to hold it together, and not show it, was a surprise to you.

The rest of the week leading up to the Yule Ball was suffocating. Not to mention turning you more bitter, as Anna had started to hang around your group to be closer to Mattheo. You would sit as far away from the pair as you could, preferably on the same side as them, so you wouldn’t have any direct eye line of them. Which meant you found yourself sitting in front of Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire. Two of Mattheo’s close friends. Though loyal to Mattheo, they had become fond of you, like a sister. They could see something was bothering you, but neither chose to bring it up with you. Instead doing all they could to distract you; deep or stupid conversations, jokes, pranks, etc. And you were grateful for it.

The day of the Yule Ball, students only had morning classes to attend. Which everyone, but you, were excited about. After those morning classes, and lunch in The Great Hall, all students were left to enjoy the afternoon before those in the higher classes would attend the Ball. You laid on your bed while Pansy and the other three girls of your room got ready. They fussed over each other's hair and make up, talking about what they hoped would happen tonight. Rolling onto your back, you looked up at the room's ceiling, glaring at how happy they were, excited to be going with the guys they wanted. While you would be staying in this room, bitter over the fact Anna would get your night.

Pansy took a moment to look over at you, she felt for you. “Y/N/N, why don’t you still go to the Ball? Who cares if you have a date or not!” She said hoping you would listen to her. “Besides, you brought a beautiful dress. It would be a shame not to wear it”.

“Yeah, Pansy is right!” A few of your roommates coursed together.

You rolled back onto your stomach, eyes focusing on the girls of the room. “I’ll pass, thanks. I will see if I can return it anyways”. Then you rolled back onto your back, and went back to glaring at the ceiling.

Pansy and the girls all shared a sullen look, before going back to getting ready, but in a more sober mood. You hated to be the killjoy, but this was a hard pill to swallow. You would have rather Mattheo had gone stag with Theodore and Lorenzo. And, though it would have stung, picked up a girl at the Ball. Or maybe he would have seen you finally, and realizing you were the girl for him. Unfortunately no luck there. So you will do your best to forget tonight, and all that will go down in The Great Hall. Then tomorrow you would remove yourself from all talk of the Yule Ball.

Once the girls were ready, they headed out and to the common room where students had made plans to hang out before the start of the Ball. Pansy was the last to leave the room. She had continued to try and talk you into going. Even offered to pop down to the common room and see if she could drum up a last minute escort for you. But you declined her offer, sticking to your stubborn guns.

Pansy sighed as she reached the room’s door, looking back at you as you read a book sitting on your bed. “I know you didn’t get asked by the person you wanted too. But you shouldn’t let the hurt win, you should go and have fun for yourself”. And with that Pansy left.

You didn’t look up from your book once during her words. But part of you knew she was right. Why should you let a guy consume you, dictate your evening. Part of your mind was screaming to get up, do your hair and make up, put on that dress you love and go have fun. Show Mattheo and every male student that you don’t need them! You are Y/N Y/L/N, and you don’t need anyone!

So with that spark of determination you got up off your bed, and the first thing you did was your makeup. You kept it fairly neutral; opting for a natural smoky eye with a hint of dark green, and slightly dark nude lip. Next you put your Y/H/C locks half up with a moon shape clip, some hair falling around and framing your face. After that you managed to get into the gown you had brought, love at first sight. It was an emerald green V-neck dress that had thin straps that tied up on the top of your shoulders. The bodice was embellished in different green crystals that also cascaded down in various lengths over the lace-up A-line skirt. The material of the dress is a mix of cotton, satin and tulle, making it airy and flowy, almost whimsical. After putting on your shoes, the last item you put on was the necklace Mattheo had given you for your birthday.

At first you were unsure of wearing the dainty silver two chain necklace, that each houses a star on the top chain and a moon on the lower. Staring at the simple but beautiful piece of jewellery, you thought wearing it would go against the passion lit in you to stick it to the male students. You felt it would be like wearing a ball and chain, weighing you down with the reminder of who you weren’t there with. But in the end you chose to wear the necklace. It suited you well, telling you Mattheo knew you. And that wasn’t all that you noticed him do for you. He was always opening doors for you, greeting you first in the morning, taking a seat next to you during meals, and taking you hand at merited or random times. Which is why you had been so sure of him asking you to the Yule Ball, and the chance he liked you as much as you liked him.

Taking one final look at yourself in the room's full mirror, you made last minute adjustments before lifting your head up high and began your trek to The Great Hall. Rising from the lower level of the school, you walked down halls littered with various paintings. Many of the painting’s residents said ‘hello’ as you passed, with a few commenting on how lovely you looked, which made you smile and thank them. With every step closer to The Great Hall you could feel your heart rate pick up, breathing becoming a tad harder with nerves. You came to the staircase before the first set of doors to The Great Hall, at the bottom you spotted your friends. It was now or never.

Lorenzo was the first to spot you at the top of the stairs, a bright smile crossing his face as he pointed you out to Theodore. Who said your name in question a little loud, catching Pansy and Draco’s attention. All three’s eyes followed Lorenzo’s to where you stood. Noticing them staring at you, you knew there was no going back now. So placing your hand on the railing, you started to descend the stairs with a soft smile on your face. Mattheo was confused as to why his friends were quiet, and looking behind him. Turning around he saw you coming down the stairs dressed in the perfect shade of green for you, you looked absolutely stunning. Sure, he would say you look beautiful everyday. But right this moment, you looked like a Goddess gracing Earth with your presence.

Coming to reside on the floor before your friends, Lorenzo and Theodore were the ones to move to your sides. They offered you compliments a plenty, which made you laugh nervously and tell them to stop. Pansy was the next to come over to you, so happy you had changed your mind, and how lovely you looked in your dress.

“You clean up nicely Y/L/N” Draco complimented, to which Pansy slapped his arm.

“Never say that to a lady” she said angrily. But then turned back to you, “what made you change your mind!?” She asked. “I didn’t expect you to change your mind, but I am so happy you did!”

You laughed at her words, both Mattheo and Anna coming over to join you all. “I decided I wasn’t going to let my lack of a date bring me down. No shame in going stag”.

Both Lorenzo and Theodore agreed with you. “No shame at all, both Enzo and I are stag” Theodore said with a bright smile. “You can join us!”

You laughed at the pair. “Both of you going stag doesn’t surprise me one bit”.

All the while bantered with his two close friends, Mattheo looked at you. He was mesmerized by how beautiful you looked. He felt like this was the first time he was seeing you, the real you. He liked how your eyes lit up with laughter, enjoyed the sound of your voice, and over all adored your presence. Soon you all began to make your way into The Great Hall; Draco and Pansy taking the lead arm in arm, followed by you on either arm of Lorenzo and Theodore, while Mattheo and Anna brought up the rear. You could feel eyes on the back of you as you walked, but soon you felt many eyes on you as you entered the large room. You took note of how winter wonderland The Great Hall looked.

After finding a spot off to the side, your group took to talking and laughing. You hadn't paid Mattheo or his date any mind, not really looking at them. Instead talking with Lorenzo and Theodore, which had been fun so far. Eventually the TriWizard champions entered the hall, and kicked off the dancing. You watched in delight at the twirling and lifting of the female’s. You sighed, wishing you were a part of the dancing. And as if reading your mind, both boy’s offered you their hand but then glared at the other. After a quick round of paper, scissors, rock; you were dragged by the winner Lorenzo to the dance floor. You joined Pansy and Draco moving around the room. You weren’t the best dancer, but Lorenzo was patient with you, leading you in the current formal dance, all while you both laughed and smiled. Once that dance was done, Theodore swooped in and stole you from his friend. He led you around in the dance, as Mattheo and Anna joined this time.

Theodore was commenting on the teacher’s who had taken to the dance floor. His words had you in stitches, while Mattheo glared at the both of you while dancing with his date. Seeing you dance with Lorenzo, and now Theodore, left him cursing them. How dare they take your attention for themselves. If they hadn’t been fussing over you, he would have had your attention. Anna complained when Mattheo had stepped on her foot, too distracted by his friend and you to pay attention to his dance partner. After that dance you and Theodore left the dance floor, and Mattheo went back to focusing on Anna as best he could, knowing you were out there somewhere. Any male students coming up and talking to you made his blood boil.

You found yourself alone, leaning against a stone wall after Theodore and Lorenzo went to work the room, aka hit on girls. Of course they weren’t going to leave you on your own, but you had told them to go, you’d be fine. So here you were, being a wallflower, watching those on the dance floor. Over time the formal music and dancing was replaced by the band Weird Sisters, and students jumping around and letting loose. By this point you noted Draco and Pansy sitting down by the dance floor, they were talking while Pansy rubbed his back. Your gaze then moved to the dance floor, you laughed softly at Fred and George jumping around like idiots, their date’s not too pleased. But the other bodies on the floor weren’t that different from the twins.

Then you spotted Mattheo and Anna; they were dancing away from the jumping crowd, probably so they wouldn’t get hurt or drawn in. Seeing them hurt, a lot. That bitterness slowly returning with every second you watched them. You felt the prickling of tears in the corner of your eyes. No, you weren’t going to let them win. You would not cry. Standing up straight you took a deep breath before releasing it. That was when Lorenzo and Theodore came back to you, both taking a spot on either side of you and leaning against the wall. Their eyes followed where you were looking and it was like a light bulb went off over both of them. You were upset with Mattheo for bringing Anna to the Ball, and no doubt you fancied their friend.

“What’s a pretty girl like yourself being a wallflower?” Theodore asked, turning his head to look at you.

“I’m not a wallflower” you retorted, looking Theodore in the eyes.

“Yes you are” Lorenzo said looking at you. “Standing by yourself, watching everyone else; definition of wallflower”.

“Not entirely correct” you replied with a sigh.

“Why are you alone? Any guy here would be dying to dance with a beauty like you” Theodore with a smirk.

“Doubt it” you said, hitting his arm. “Did you spike the punch? How much have you had to drink?”

Both boys laughed. “First off; yes just about every guy here wants to dance with you” Lorenzo said matter-of-factly.

“And second; we didn't spike the punch. Snape or McGonagall would know within five minutes” Theodore finished.

You looked between them with a raised eyebrow. “Then how have you been drinking?” You asked, skipping their notion of most males wanting to dance with you.

Both boys smiled all knowingly, before Theodore looked around making sure no Professor’s were around. He then proceeded to produce a silver flask. Cheeky sod’s, they were carrying. Theodore offered you a drink, which you thought screw it and took a few sips from, before returning the flask to him. A shocked look on your face at home the whisky went down, burning your throat. Both boys laughed at your reaction. Then Lorenzo offered you some of his, which had been vodka. Not good to mix the two liquors, but you were over caring. You needed to dull the thoughts in your head, and forget, even for the night, Mattheo and Anna.

“Come on wallflower” Lorenzo said, getting up from his leaning position. “Let’s go have some fun and dance the night away!”

Feeling the numbing sensation taking over, you stood. “Alright boys, let’s go!”

Lorenzo grabbed your hand and pulled you to the dance floor, Theodore right behind you both. Once on the dance floor you grasped the skirt of your dress and lifted it slightly as you moved around with both boys to the music. You let the music take over, feeling every note and moving to its rhythm. Lorenzo and Theodore moved along with you, all three of you singing and laughing, all the while jumping and turning. You let the alcohol and energy of dancing wash away your thoughts of the Slytherin you liked, and his date. You focused on letting loose, having fun with your two friends. Every now and then, you three would sneak drinks from the flask’s the boys were concealing, just adding fuel to the fire of total freedom.

While you had been talking to the boys against the wall, then drinking with them and now dancing, Mattheo had watched almost all of your three’s doings. And he didn’t like the influence his friends had on you. He could understand talking to you, and dancing with you, but not the alcohol consumption. That wasn’t very you. Sure, during house parties you would have a few drinks. But not straight liquor. Yet there you were before, doing just that. By this time Mattheo and Anna were sitting down with Pansy and Draco, taking a rest.

“Y/N/N looks to be having fun” Pansy said with a laugh. “I wasn’t sure about those two, but they are helping her tonight”.

“Ha. Why do you say that?” Draco asked, not entirely caring.

Pansy briefly looked at Mattheo before going back to her date. “Before I left our dorm she was so adamant on not coming tonight. I know she had hoped for a particular guy to ask her to the Ball”.

“That is sad they didn’t” Anna said with a frown. “But I’m glad she did come. And is having a good time” she then smiled after those words.

Pansy half smiled at the girl, not thrilled she was with Mattheo. “Yes, I am happy too. She didn’t need him to have a good time”.

Mattheo was silent during the conversation. Wondering who would be such an idiot to not ask you. Sure, he had considered asking you but then Anna came into the picture. And he had decided to ask her. He knew you wouldn’t have had any trouble getting a date. A few guy’s from the Slytherin Quidditch team had asked at different times if you had a date yet, and he said no. Even then, a small part of him didn’t like the idea of them taking you to the Ball. He chalked it up to being a protective friend. But now he knew why. He liked you. Plain and simple.

With all the dancing and drinking you were doing, it finally started to catch up to you. And you slowed down, while your company continued to dance, and take some well needed air. You felt your head swimming from the alcohol, but it was pleasant, you felt a little giddy. But your legs and arms were starting to ache from all the jumping, shimmying and twirling with Lorenzo and Theodore. Not to mention some of the students had called it a night, yet it didn’t stop the remaining students. Thinking it was time to call it quits, you were about to look for a particular curly haired brunette, before stopping yourself. Who cares where he was or what he was doing. You have had a good time tonight.

So with a content smile you let both Lorenzo and Theodore know you were going to head off to bed. They gave you overdramatic pleas to stay, but when you said it was bedtime, they fake cried making you laugh. Bidding them goodnight you held your head high before making your way from the dance floor. Pansy noticed you leave the dance floor, and when you both saw the other looking, you waved and mouthed goodnight. She got the message, and was fine with you going to bed. You deserved a good sleep after having a fun night.

Exiting The Great Hall you climbed up the stairs you had taken to get to the hall, before swaying slowly down the hallway, almost floating down with that content smile still on your lips. Letting go of Mattheo, and the alcohol you consumed, did you wonders tonight. For once you had fun for yourself. You didn’t think about others. Didn’t worry over what anyone would think. Didn’t let the rational side of your brain ruin your night with thoughts. You had successfully detached from who you were.

“Y/N!” Call the reality train, in the form of one Mattheo Riddle.

You sighed, stopping where you were. Not even turning around. “Yes?” You asked.

“Are you alright?” He asked, concerned.

Confused, you turned around to see the Slytherin boy a meter from you. “Peachy. Why?”

“You’re leaving the Ball early” Mattheo made an excuse, knowing you were probably tired and ready for bed. But he had to speak to you. After watching you the rest of the night with his friends, he needed to have time with you.

“Well Theo, this young lady is ready to go back to her room and turn into an ordinary, average girl” you said with a small laugh.

He looked at you confused. “You’re not ordinary, nor are you average Y/N/N. Fair from it actually”.

You laughed. “Yes I am Theo, it’s fine to say it”.

“No you’re not. You are an incredible person; smart, kind, fierce. And you know you are beautiful”.

“I do look quite good tonight” you stated, straightening out your skirt.

“No, you are beautiful everyday,” Mattheo said sincerely. “Are you upset because you didn’t have a date? Because the guy you hoped to ask you didn't?”

You looked Mattheo in the eyes, he was concerned but you could see something in his eyes that made you think he was being protective of you. “Not at all. Sure it sucked he didn’t ask me” you could feel the alcohol loosen your tongue and decided to go with it. “He even brought another girl, which hurt. But it is what it is”.

“He’s an idiot” Mattheo commented, as you moved to lean against the stone wall.

“Yeah. But I can’t blame him. He doesn’t know how I feel, or how I wanted him to ask me” you said in thought. “Maybe if I was more obvious he’d have caught on”, You looked at him with a sad smile.

Mattheo hated seeing that smile on your face, and how your eyes dulled. And he felt himself bringing up thoughts he had, not sure why though. “Maybe he is oblivious to something special. A dick move on his part”, he slowly moved closer to you.

You watched him closely, still fuelled by the liquor in your system you kept going. “Maybe it is. But, again, I never said anything. I assumed from the way he would open doors for me, or greet me first thing in the morning, or even hold my hand, that there was something”.

Mattheo nodded as he came to stand before you. “Well, taking that into account, he might have felt something. But he didn’t entirely know what it meant. If you are close though, he should have asked you”, he was confessing that he knew he should have asked you when he had thought too.

The next words out of your mouth sealed it for him. “Yes, you should have asked me”.

Staring into each other's eyes, Mattheo didn’t say another word. He leaned down and planted his lips upon your own. The kiss was slightly rough, but you still felt that spark. Both of you felt the butterflies in your stomach. Your hands reached out and grasped at his white dress shirt, while he leaned his left arm on the wall next to your head, bringing your bodies closer, his right hand cupping your cheek. Pulling back briefly you looked at each other and smiled. Mattheo then went back in for another kiss, this time deepening the kiss. It sent your mind reeling, and somewhat sobering you up. This was really happening, this moment you had daydreamed about was actually happening.

While you and Mattheo made out in the hallway, Lorenzo came up the stairs and turned down the hallway. He was looking for Mattheo, at the request of Anna. For the brunet had left her without much of a reason, and he had been gone for a while which made her worry. Looking upon the hallway in confusion, Lorenzo soon spotted two familiar figures. A smug smile soon formed on his lips after seeing the two snogging away in the hallway. Chuckling to himself he turned away from the pair, and headed back to The Great Hall.

“Guess Theodore and I have a young lady to console” he said to himself walking down the staircase and going back to what was left of the Ball.

A/N: as always, constructive feedback welcome. Also please see pocs of dress and necklace.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x fem!reader #mattheoxreader

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missglaskin · 1 year

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Yan!Ethan Landry with girlfriend!reader would include:

Please don't report, all it will do is shadowban it

Tags: Yandere, toxic relationship, co-dependency, delusions, mentions of violence, scream6 spoilers, smut, brief perv!Ethan

Ethan is a wolf in sheep's clothing. A shy, dorky guy who no one would ever suspect of harming a fly. Chad introduced you two for the first time. Remembering his flushed face, wide eyes, and slight jolt when you shook hands.

For Ethan, it was love at first sight. Many times you crossed his mind, a fleeting thought he can never shake. He did all he could to catch a glimpse of you again. Feeling his breath shorten when you walked into a room, eyes fixated solely on you, forgetting whatever it was he was doing.

Ethan was eager to learn everything there was to know about you. Hours are spent scrolling through your social media. Him trying to figure out your schedule and which buses/trains you take so he can coincidently be there as well. Not to mention pestering Chad and his friends with endless questions until they push him to befriend you.

And on their advice, Ethan befriends you. As you are to him, he desires to be your closest friend, your soulmate, your everything. Safe to say Ethan attaches himself to your hip-whenever you are, Ethan is near. You don't give it much thought at first, after all this is Ethan you're talking about-the sweet, gullible Ethan.

Ethan goes above and beyond to please you. Offering his jacket because you seemed cold or buying your favorite snacks to cheer you up. And he's always there to console you; the sight of you in tears is enough reason for Ethan to rush to your side and cradle you against him.

But in all his sweetness, you fail to notice the dark look in his eye. You don't see how his grip tightens when you enjoy the company of another. How his jaw clenches when you dismiss your time together in favor of some of your stupid friends. If you were to ask, Ethan would drop everything; why not do the same for him.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise when one of your ‘friends’ ends up dead. Their body discovered with numerous stab wounds, almost as if they had been repeatedly stabbed in rage. And as you shed tears in sorrow over your friend, Ethan is there to comfort you, holding you close to him.

Over time, you also begin to notice how many of your things go missing. Unaware of how Ethan jerks off with your panties, imagining him fucking you-stuffing you with his cum. Unaware, he mists his room with your perfume, paying special attention to his pillows, inhaling the scent as he imagines holding you. How much he would give anything to wake up with you by his side.

It was as if the universe was on his side. When Ethan asked you out, he was afraid of your rejection, of hearing "Sorry, I only see you as a friend." But to his complete surprise, the word "yes" was uttered with your lips, and he felt the sudden urge to kiss you.

He got his wish when he asked for a kiss; you eagerly agreed, moved by his sweetness. The kiss started slow and gentle and for a brief moment, Ethan believed he was dreaming. It was everything he hoped for and more. And before you knew it, he deepened the kiss, stealing your breath away as he did so.

Ethan became addicted to the feeling of your lips touching his. It didn't matter where you were or what you were doing, your boyfriend will still steal a kiss from you. That or smothering your face with kisses, savoring the sound of your laughter as his arms wrap themselves around your waist.

Even one day apart from you is like asking Ethan to stop breathing. He has lived his entire life without you, but a taste of you in his life has him hooked. He loves you as if he was an alcoholic-refusing to ever let you go.

But at the end of the day, Ethan is aware of his tendencies. Knowing full well how you will react to his violent and possessive tendencies, yet there is still this slight delusion in Ethan. That maybe after spending so much time with him, that if he were to remove everyone from your life and be the only person left, you will love him with the same ferociously.

You can't recall a time when you went without Ethan's touches. Where you haven't felt his hands roam your body and caress your skin. He's touch starved; truly. Feeling his hand on your back or reaching for yours as you walk. Pulling you on top of him as you cuddle, nuzzling his face to your neck. But you never complain, do you.

But…sometimes Ethan lets his tendencies creep in. Not missing the agitated expression on his face when your friends join your company. How he once crashed a can in his hands when you were laughing at some stupid joke they made. Remembering how he once came to you with bruises on his hands and face, all while there was news of another body being found. But even then, how could you suspect anything of your sweet Ethan.

Soon you began ditching your family and friends all for your boyfriend. He always knew the ways to snatch you away. And according to him, the two of you must do everything together. Doing chores? He is happy to help. Looking to binge a show? Don't do it without him. Have to get something from the store? Of course, he will come along.

Strangely, many of your friends have complained that you ignore their texts or miss their calls. When you question Ethan, he merely shrugs feigning innocence. Several times you caught him looking through your phone. He has given you his (unaware he has another one) this shows that he trusts you, do you not trust him as well? Besides, if you are so protective of your phone, you might be hiding something from him; if not, why not let him look.

If you haven't guessed, boundaries don't exist in Ethan's dictionary. No matter how many times you try to explain it to him, he just doesn't get it. Do you no longer love him, has his presence started to annoy you? What started as a confrontation ended with you consoling him.

Similar to your everyday relationship, Ethan is eager to give. He's addicted to your taste; obsessed with your pretty little pussy. He's like a starved man, satisfying his insatiable hunger. Having you seated on his face with his hands gripping each of your thighs as he devours your dripping cunt. Feeling the vibrations of his moans against your heat.

Your boyfriend is a total horndog, it must be said. The numerous times he whisked you away only for you to have sex in a restroom or an abandoned storage space. He was even worse behind closed doors; there wasn't a surface in the entire damn place that you hadn't fucked on. Even in the early morning or in the wee hours of the night, you can feel the hands creeping between your thighs.

He’s usually so gentle and attentive; it’s expected of him to prioritize your needs over his. But there are times when Ethan shows a different side to himself. Usually, if he observes you being overly friendly with someone else. Removing your clothing with such eagerness that you fear he might rip it. Almost wincing in pain as you feel his fingers digging into your skin. There’s this dark look in his eye as his girthy cock fills you to the brim. The following day, Ethan returns to his usual self and you choose not to mention the bruises he left behind.

With the murders that are occurring through Woodsboro, Ethan uses it as a way to keep you close to him. What would you do if you were being attacked and he wasn't there to protect you. He even insists that you share a dorm from now on.

Ethan may even pull some strings to make Mindy and her friends view you as a suspect. But don’t worry Ethan is there to reassure you that he doesn’t believe you could ever hurt anyone. It appears to be just the two of you. You two against the entire world.

When his plans to get rid of Sam and her friends are carried out. Ethan considers the life that will come after that, the life he will have with you. He has daydreamed many times at night of the two of you owning a home-living together with a ring on your finger. Perhaps some children will be involved, he does believe you'll make a wonderful mother. Wouldn't that just be the perfect life.

#scream x reader #ethan landry x reader #yandere x reader #scream imagine #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #headcanons #x reader #yandere ethan landry #yandere scream #horror x reader #horror headcanons #ethan landry smut #scream smut #scream 6 x reader

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madds-is-ace-trash · 1 year

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Nightwing why are you warring a cape? Well for the baby of course! Dcxdp

This takes place in the same universe as my fic Mother of the storm and her star child.

A few years have passed and Danny is completely settled in and moved to bulhaven with dick. Eventually around the time he’s Turing 9 he insists that he wants to go out at night with dick. Dick is hesitant but Danny insist, pointing out how his abilities would make him the perfect recon detective. Dick can no longer argue when Danny beats both Damian and Cass the first day of training and he is out out in the field.

Danny hose out in his ghost form and picks the name phantom because it feels right and now nightwing patrols with a bird if his very own for the first time in a while. Danny is very good on patrols, he sticks close to dick often clinging to him and hiding behind him when dick is interacting with people. He’ll often turn invisible but it still doesn’t fell like enough to dick. He quickly released that he missed the cape and the layer of securing it added when Damien was his Robin.

So nightwing starts wearing a cape, and the people of his city starts coming up with all sorts of theories for the sudden change. The range from him practicing because he’s taking over the cowl to him hiding new gadgets. Very few have seen Danny and those who have are often not believed because, “nightwing had glowing eyes under his cape!” Is not very believable.

He doesn’t wear the cape all the time just when he has Danny, the cape is long the outside is black but the inside has a blue and black feather design so it looks like wings when he glides. It has a feature where it retracts in to a role on his back when he need more freedom of movement. And I’m addition to the cape he now has an extra loop hanging form his belt for Danny to grab on to as the hop rooftops. (Danny can will him self to weigh nothing so dick tends to pull him along as he floats any way)

As the news of dicks sudden costume adjustment is circulating he has to come to the watchtower with B for a mission. Danny tags along hiding in his cape like all the Robin had before him with Bruce. Meanwhile Bruce is totally not going all mushy over his grandson he is totally normal about this. All of the Leagers keep giving dick looks.

Until flash finally ask

Wally: so um nightwing what’s with the cape? I thought you hated them?

Dick*with a bright smile across his face*: it’s for my shadow!

Wally: your shadow? How is a cape ganna hide your shadow.

Dick: no not my actual shadow it’s to hide my bird.

Diana: your bird?

*Dick flares one side of the cape revealing the feathered pattern underneath but nothing else is visible hidden under the cape*

Wally: I don’t se-

Dick: whistles like a bird call

Danny slowly fading in to view giving the league a small wave as he scrambles to hide behind dicks legs: Hello

Hal: really Bruce another one!?

Dick Smiling at the small boy in his cape before closing it : nope this one’s all mine!

Meanwhile John Constantine who is present for this mission is freaked the fuck out. Because that kid with the flowing white hair and glowing freckles is definitely not human. And worse than that from what he can sense it’s pretty darn powerful to. He watches as all of his coworkers are working to get the boy out from hiding cooing over him.

Clark: he’s looking a lot better nightwing

Wally: Waite you already new about him?

Clark: yes the boy is nightwings child I’m guessing he only is just now joining the team

Diana: what’s your name little one?

Danny poking his head out of the cape: phantom my name is phantom

Fuck why was that name familiar? Oh shit that’s right John had heard rumors of the new ghost king and a prince milling around the infinite realms this must be the little ghost prince. How the fuck did dick end up with him? Waite sups said that was dicks kid, hold did dick?

John: ha Oh my god! You crazy fucker you fucked the ghosts king!

#danny phantom #dc x dp #danny fenton #dp x dc #dp #phandom #ghost king danny #i write some times #dpxdc #ms&sc #dc x dp prompt #you can use it as one I don’t care #this will not be continued so feel free to steal the idea #I just want Danny to hide under his papas cape #dick is very confused #over what John siad #and now the league is side eyeing him #Wally ask Danny who his mom is and he just says ‘dead’#this dose not help dick trying to explain he did not fuck the god of the dead #eventually they ask Danny if he knows who the king is #and he just says ‘Yhea me!’ and the crown of fire just appears over his head #he smiles and shows of his little baby fangs #John is having a melt down #the league just thinks it makes him even cuter #Danny explains he’s only a prince now until he’s big enough #John has to explain that actually makes a lot of sense because the realms have been running them self for years #The whole team is now having a crisis because they realize that means Danny has died #Danny is surprisingly nonchalant about it #he turns human to show them he’s fine #Batman is desperately trying to get everyone back on track so they can get to the mission

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sunshine-zenith · 10 months

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A thought — Ballister and Ambrosius’s relationship probably wasn’t public in the movie until the end. They probably weren’t secretive about it, given how Todd (someone neither of them like or would confide in) was clearly antagonistic to Ambrosius after Ballister’s jailbreak, but even then that just might be because their connection was well known — they liked each other more than any of the knights liked them, most being neutral overall to Ambrosius and outright bullies to Ballister. No one in the public seems to know about them

Media perception is a reoccurring factor in the movie, with the opening scene giving exposition in the form of a news cast. During it, Ballister is shown to be controversial, with a there being a few comments questioning the Queen’s choices related to him. Ambrosius is also brought up as someone everyone’s looking forward to seeing officially knighted, with no one questioning his relationship with Ballister or even bringing it up

While everyone is fearing and hating Ballister after the Queen dies, Ambrosius is still popular among the masses — people stop him in the streets to get his autograph. Nimona, who admittedly probably didn’t do much digging into Ballister beyond the initial news reports on the Queen’s deaths, seemed surprised that Ballister and Ambrosius had a connection. She even had an “ohhhhhh” moment after picking up on their vibe the first time they saw each other post-arm chop (and yeah she initially calls Ambrosius Ballister’s nemesis, but she clearly clocks that something romantic was going on given the “arm chopping is not a love language!” comment). She also asks if he wants to die in a (literal) closet, which like. Y’all.

Before the Queen’s death, all their PDA is in private (on the catwalk) or subtly around other knights (helping each other put on their armor with lots of heart eyes and lingering hands). Otherwise, their interactions are those of Two People Who Are Close but aren’t necessarily explicitly romantic (Ambrosius wanting to throw hands on Ballister’s behalf, teasing each other, Ambrosius cheering with the crowd). Granted, there wasn’t a lot of screen time for them to just be happy before Everything Went Wrong.

We can’t really judge whether they were private from their interactions after the Queen’s death, since most are focused on a “so this traumatic thing happened and I don’t know where we stands right now” vibe or have them just fighting. The three times Ambrosius says he loves Ballister, one was just the two of them on the catwalk, one was in a mental rant and not actually out loud, and one was while they were trying to hide their identities. Ballister continues to defend Ambrosius, saying he’d believe them if they could just talk and that the arm thing is just “complicated,” “part of their training, up until Ambrosius outright tries to arrest them (which might as well be a breakup without saying “we’re breaking up”).

In the comic, the Director says she knew about their relationship and that she disapproved. Given how much she manipulates things, it wouldn’t surprise me if she knew in the movie, and encouraged them to downplay things at least — “you should keep your private lives private so you don’t taint your public images/yes we support you, obviously, but you’re here to protect the people, not show off to them/you don’t want to overshadow things with more controversy, wait a few years until after you’re knighted/what if this is just a phase, it would be a mess to clean up if you go public now/people will talk if they hear Gloreth’s only current descendant, a promising young man, is being courted by someone they aren’t certain about who comes from nothing and can’t pass your genes on/you have each other, shouldn’t that be enough?/etc.”

We don’t see them be in a relationship publicly until after the wall — the symbol of fear of the unknown, systematic abuse and oppression, refusal to learn and grow, and let’s be real homophobia/transphobia — comes down and the Director — the one going to murderous extremes out of fear of change — is dead

I dunno. This movie is a large celebration of being queer, but it’s also about how queer people are demonized by society to the point of everyone suffering. Ambrosius is the model minority everyone loves but no one knows because all eyes are on him; Ballister is both tokenized and targeted from the moment the public meets him, having to prove himself over and over until the public unquestionably turns on him entirely; and Nimona is called a monster for just being herself. All three already had to hide who they really were. I’m not 100% sure if Ballister and Ambrosius were out or not about being together, but it’s not a stretch to see, and it fits in with the themes/arcs of this movie

#this is a mess #nimona #nimona movie #spoilers #ballister blackheart #ballister boldheart #ballister x ambrosius #ambrosius goldenloin #the sun shines #meta #cy meta #long post #broke 100 #broke 500 #broke 1000

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katz-chow · 2 months

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as many of you know, i don’t really like konig. so i present to you this: tw, implied death

deadbeat dad!konig, a widower who spends his days drinking, hooking up, and working 12 hours a day night shifts to “provide for his kid” but also get away from her because she looks too much like his dead wife. he never thought he’ll settle down and when he did, his worst fears came true, and so did the past he was trying to escape

even with military pension and disability checks, it’s not enough so he keeps working. and his daughter keeps getting ignored “for good reasons”.

at 10, she stayed after school for hours before konig remembered he had to pick her up.

at 16, she got rear ended and konig was too drunk to get her. she cried until she the police came and they called her teacher to come get her.

things only started to change when you rushed into the house, finding your ass of a dad on his recliner, a beer in his hand. the papers in your hand splashed onto his lap.

“what the fuck?” he responded, gathering the papers and throwing at your face.

“i’m leaving for basic training in a month”

he looked furious. “no you’re not”

“yes i am. i’m going to find a fucking a family there, a real one.”

he looked at you as if you just poured cold water over him while he was asleep. he couldn’t believe it. “no you’re not.”

“i am. i signed. i leave in a month.”

he grumbled but looked away at you, not having enough courage to beg you to stay, beg you to stay right where he could protect you from the world that took your mother. he didn’t have the courage to say two simple words even as his chest tightened and his breathing staggered as you started packing in your room.

when the day came shortly after, he drove you to the airport. and to his surprised, he couldn’t control his own body as it took your bag out of the car and walked you to the gate. you look at him, almost waiting for him to fix things at the last minute.

he looked at you, thinking if he was just a bit more of a better man, this wouldn’t be how you say goodbye.

“i love you, mein liebling.”

you frown as tears fall from your face. “i love you too dad.”

…

“i’m sorry.” he whispered as a thumb caressed your dogtags

#katzwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #fanfic #konig x female reader #konig #konig cod #dad konig #deadbeat dad #konig x y/n #konig x you #konig x reader #konig mw2

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

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M.U.R.P.H // Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: An undisclosed pregnancy that you and your husband try keeping a secret ends up being the reason you end up in hospital during a PTI session with the Dagger Squad.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Pregnancy. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Mild Angst.

Author Note: Happy Saturday! This is pretty self indulgent but I final finished this one-shot that’s been in my drafts forever.

“Alright team.” Pete Mitchell, although overworked and severely underpaid for the crap he put up with–grinned ear to ear at his group of elite Naval Aviators who sat before him after debriefing this morning's training exercise. “As you know, this weekend is Memorial Day weekend and the Admirals have decided to get a jump start on the events.”

“Are we getting a long weekend?” Fanboy beamed hopefully as he sat up a little straighter. “Please tell me we’re getting a long weekend—“ He hoped that if he asked with enough conviction in his voice the answer would be yes. However, he hadn’t noticed you standing at the back of the room. A protective hand over your barely visible baby bump. Waiting for the right moment to make your presence known. Bob had noticed though—he was already dreading what was to come. He hated Memorial Day. Not because he didn’t want to pay respects to those who had fallen, no. He’d honour the fallen every damn day if he had to.

So long as he didn’t have to participate in Murph.

You’d been his PTI during his time in Lamoore. You were the first Bradshaw he’d met and before he later Met Bradley Bradshaw and put two and two together that the two of you were married–nothing had ever made more sense.

Bob’s heart had sunk into his ass when he found out you were being transferred to North Island. You were somewhat of a hard task master when it came to gruelling training sessions and Memorial Day always gave you free rein to send anyone packing with their tail between their legs if they couldn’t keep up.

You were, however, a solid friend. When you weren’t working, you were the life of the party. The brightest smile in the room and always the one who everyone gravitated towards. Much like Bradley, you two always seemed to get the party started. Whether it was playing great balls of fire and singing at the top of your lungs—or starting an important dart night that saw a permanent tally board hung up beside the much too loved dartboard. There had been a time or two where you’d challenged the strongest of the bunch to an arm wrestle—Bob was always the first to bow at your bark. Not one to challenge anything you said, hell he’d do just about anything you told him to do….

So long as he didn’t have to participate in Murph.

Bob had never been one to believe in soulmates before he saw you and Bradley together, he’d never met two people more suited for each other. But neither of you needed to hear that from him–you’d already managed to figure that out on your own.

“No, Fanboy—“ Maverick sighed as he gestured for you to make your way to the front of the class. “No you aren’t getting a long weekend, what you are getting though, is a killer workout with PTI Bradshaw.” You heard the mixed reviews your introduction received. You’d only just recently finished running annual fitness testing for those who needed to be re-evaluated. So the idea of yet another gruelling workout tossed their way wasn’t what some of the aviators had in mind for a head start on the weekend.

Jake Seresin and Javy Machado however? Oh they were wrapped. They loved a challenge—they adored you and they certainly came over the challenges you loved to hand out.

“Morning everyone.” You beamed as you handed Rooster, you beloved husband, who sat in the front row with a soft grin, a pile of papers. “Take one and pass them along please Lieutenant Bradshaw.” Your fingers lingered across Bradley’s for a few seconds as he smiled softly back at you with heart shaped eyes. He always thought you looked so different with your hair pulled back into a ridiculously tight bun. Your uniform made you look so different, nothing like what you looked like at the Hard Deck with your hair out and mum jeans on. Sitting beside him at the piano playing great balls of fire. A Margarita in your hand and his glasses over your beautiful eyes. Nothing like what you looked like tucked into his side, hair splayed every which way and silk pyjamas adorning your beautiful body.

“Physical Training Instructors play a key role in developing and maintaining the health, fitness and well-being of our airmen. In the United States Navy, physical fitness is absolutely essential in maintaining good health and overall wellbeing.” Pete Mitchell had been required to say that little statement prior to any session he handed over to you. “Regardless of Rank, PTI “Agony” Bradshaw will be your superior for the next two hours—with that I hand you over.”

“Thanks Mav.” You chuckled, appreciating the way you were so respected by the veteran aviator. PTI’s didn’t always have the best wrap—so when Maverick commanded the attention of everyone in the room on your behalf it gave you a little more confidence each and every time. “Alright flyboys—“ You teased, turning your attention to Phoenix so you could address her too. “And Flygirl, today we’re doing MURPH—“

Your declaration was met with a choir of dismay and disapproval from at least half of the team that sat before you. Suddenly their shoulders were a little more slouched and their faces plastered with existential dread when they started reading over the workout plan you'd had Bradley pass back. No one liked doing MURPH, except maybe Jake Seresin.

“Ma’am, I think that sounds like a great idea—“ Hangman sent you one of his thousand watt grins as he played with the toothpick that sat between his teeth. “Don’t you think your wife here comes up with some banger ideas, Rooster?” Bradley did think you had some good ideas, he wasn't going to let you know that though–if he did he knew his workouts, his Personal Training sessions and his Fitness Testing would just increasingly get harder and harder. It had only been by the skin of his goddamn nose that you passed his last Multi-Stage Fitness Test. Bradley Bradshaw was a hunk and with that meant he himself was not the most aerodynamic of the bunch–Bob had passed with flying colours, although you did nearly force him to restart his push-ups again when you caught him cheating on range.

“She told me what she had planned last night Hangman, I’m ready to go, brought my pre workout in my bag and everything—“ Rooster just sighed as he leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs as he brought his hands up to rest behind his head. “Piece of cake.”

“I have never heard anyone say MURPH is a piece of cake.” Phoenix groaned. “Aggie, please–”

“I don't make the rules, Lieutenant, I just enforce them.” You had gotten used to the love-hate relationship and animosity you received while you were in uniform, it was your job to make sure none of the navy’s finest aviators let their fitness fall to the wayside. “Now for those who don't know what MURPH is, i'll explain quickly then you can all take twenty to change, refuel, and meet me over in the gym.” As you pulled out the empty chair that sat vacant next to your husband, you used it as a footstool before propping yourself up on the desk. Clearing your throat before reading out the workout explanation on the sheet you'd distributed.

“M.U.R.P.H is a hero WOD dedicated to Michael P. Murphy, the first service member to receive the Medal of Honor for service in Afghanistan, during a Memorial Day event on Bagram Airfield, Afghanistan, May 24, 2015.” Although there were more people sitting before you who didn't like the idea of such a gruelling workout, they did respect the fallen. “Michael's favourite workout was dedicated to him after his passing and thus, will be your workout today.” You felt the stomachs of everyone, all but Jake And Javy who just sat a little straighter in their chairs, drop.

“Today you will complete a one mile run, 100 pull-ups, expected to be chest to bar, 200 push-ups, 300 bodyweight squats, and to finish up we’ll run another mile.” Bradley crept a hand around your calf, thumbing your uniform as he squinted his eyes and bit his bottom lip, hoping you wouldn't add anything else to the list…..He should have known better. But he couldn't hold a grudge against you–not when you were four months pregnant and glowing. You were hiding your pregnancy well, it wasn't that you didn't want your friends and family to know, it's just you wanted to revel in the experience with Bradley for a little while longer before telling everyone you were both expecting. “Usually the twenty pound weight vest would be optional, but boys and girls you are some of the Navy’s finest Aviators, so you will all complete this course while wearing a twenty pound vest, none-notable people.”

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

In the locker room, Nomex Flight Suits had been discarded for workout gear. Standard issue work boots had been replaced by trainers, and any and all standards of professionalism had gone out the window. It was the one thing everyone actually did enjoy about having you as their PTI, you weren’t big on formality. As long as respect was there you couldn’t give a rats ass about if people swore at you or razzed you. It made the job just a little bit more enjoyable.

The last thing anyone wanted to do while they were working out was keep a rigid and professional persona.

“Man, sometimes I hate your wife.” Phoenix grumbled as the group walked out of the locker room with towels slung over their shoulders and copious amounts of pre-workout scooped into shakers. Bradley couldn't help but to laugh, he loved you so much, the wedding band wrapped around his ring finger was there to prove it. The tattoos of your name on his left ass cheek was also there to prove it.

“I wouldn't let her hear you say that.” Bradley paused as he took a swig of his pre-workout before handing it to Jake who looked like he was pumping himself up for the fight of his life. “She’ll ‘accidentally’ forget to count your reps and make you start again.”

“This is surely a form of torture–” Fanboy added as he trailed behind with Bob.

“It's a hero WOD Fanboy–respect the dead.” Jake hissed, he was as keen as, the only one in the group who hadnt had a negative thing to say about your workout plan. “I don't know why you guys aren't more excited.”

“Unlike you Hangman, most of us aren't gluttons for punishment.” Payback teased as he came to sling an arm around Jake's shoulders. “Or degradation, considering the unholy things I've seen in your search history.” Jake and Bradley had grown closer in the past few years that saw them in North Island permanently, there had been more times than you could count where the two of them would stumble back to your humble abode, drunk out of their minds. There had even been a time or two where you'd caught them spooning on the couch when Rooster couldn't take the stairs in his drunken state.

“None of which compare to what Bradsaw probably cops in the bedroom.” Jake was quick to turn the attention back on Rooster, sending him a smirk over his shoulder as he took a quick sip of the pre-workout they were sharing and handed it over. “Huh Rooster? Agony probably has you wrapped around her little finger.” It was no secret amongst the group that you were a power house PTI, you didn’t dish out any workout you couldn't do with your eyes closed, something that the Daggers really valued about you was your integrity. You were honest and kind and above all, you levelled with them. You weren't a hypocrite and you, as much as you hated your job some days, the constant pressure, the delayed onset muscle soreness, the gruelling workouts and the sweat, you led by example and practised what you preached.

That didnt mean you and Bradley wouldn't reserve Friday nights for takeout and chocolate.

“That she does.” Was all Bradley replied with, “Have you fucking seen her? She’d kick my ass any day of the week if I gave her any ounce of crap.” He was without a shadow of a doubt whipped, but Bradley had always been that way with you–ever since he met you at his first water survival training weekend, he was down bad. He’d been assigned to your little group that first Saturday and you sent his heart into the stratosphere the first time you smiled at him. He was still unsure if it had ever come back or if your unconditional love and admiration just kept it hovering in the ozone layer.

“She looks like she's glowing.” Bob remarked as the group mixed with nervousness, existential dread and far too much ego radiating of one particular member made their way across the tarmac to the base gym you could be found in any given day of the week. It was your home away from home. Kitted out with state of the art equipment, a spacious and functional environment that was welcoming and motivating. “She's far too excited about this, oh my god.”

Bradley knew you were glowing, but he also knew it wasn't because you were excited. He knew that it was because of the little one growing inside you, a mix of him and you. He kind of hoped it was a boy, but everyone always told him he’d make a good girl dad. Regardless–he just wanted to be a dad, his biggest achievement by far would be being a good dad.

“She really is.” Bradley beamed as he heard the unmistakable tune of AJR’s Burn The House Down blasting through your speakers, reading over the workout plan one final time as you sat on the sled track, legs sprawled as you hummed away in your own little word. Twirling the pen you held in your hand absentmindedly, Bradley’s voice brought you out of your concentration. Alerting you that the team was ready to be put through their paces. “We’re hear for your torture session, Agony, don’t hold back on Hangman though, he’s been gloating since, well–forever really.” Bradley teased as he offered you a gentle hand, helping you rise up from the felt sled track. You immediately felt a dizziness unparalleled to anything you'd ever experienced before. So much so you fought off the urge to succumb to the feeling of descent as you stumbled and stammered for a second.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Lieutenant.” You smiled, exhaling as you steadied your equilibrium. Bradley caught on immediately that you were feeling slightly uneasy, placing a soft hand against the small of your back as you cleared your throat and rolled up your sleeves a little. “Alright, So I’ve measured out half a mile along the airfield, so it's half a mile to and half a mile back– You can either run the tarmac or use the treadmill.” You explained to everybody standing around listening in to what you had to say.

“Can we break up the reps Y/n?” Payback asked as he shouldered Bob, forcing him to lose his footing slightly, stumbling for a second as he sent Payback look. “Or is it strictly 100, 200, 300?”

“I don't care what you guys do so long as you get it done.” Your tone made Fanboy shiver, you could be a hard task master when you wanted to be. “Start warming up and we’ll get this show on the road.” Bradley was quick to sneak a peck on the cheek when the group started to disperse, all except for Hangman a little on edge about what was to come.

“You feeling alright darlin?” He cooed, walking with you over to your desk where you’d left your water bottle.

“Your baby is the size of a pear at the moment and she's already giving me a hard time.” Neither you nor Bradley wanted to know if you were having a boy or a girl, you wanted it to be a surprise, both having made lists that kept growing with names galore. “I'm just starting to feel really sluggish, which is hard to hide when I'm usually the energiser bunny on base.”

“Dr. Richards did say you’d need to pull back a little the further along you get baby." It was hard to accept that you would eventually have to slow down, up until about two weeks ago you had been fine, apart from the morning sickness you had dealt with in the first trimester. Bradley respected your boundaries when you were both at work, knowing professionalism in the workplace was important to you, however–that didn't stop him from discreetly placing a gentle hand atop your stomach, finding the small baby bump hiding under your work uniform. The camo green fabric warping around your naval under his palm. “But that doesn't mean you're not any less capable, just means you’re growing our little boy which in my opinion, is pretty spectacular.”

“Just means we’ll need to tell everyone sooner rather than later Roo.” You sighed, taking a sip of your water, not knowing that Phoenix had spotted the gentle touch of your husband's hand resting on your stomach for a brief moment. Her eyes wide in shock as her jaw slacked slightly. Phoenix though, the master of recovery, disguised her surprise when you turned around to round up the gang that were all in the process of warming up in some way shape or form. “Alright, we can stagger the start for those who aren't warm enough–” You side eyed Bradley as he scoffed at you, leaving your side to join his colleagues. “

“Let's go boys and girl, we’re doing Murph baby!” Jake hollered out, clapping his hands down on Javys shoulders, pumping each other up as you laughed, a smile creeping across your face. “Bradshaw! You gonna try keep up with the big boys?”

“Think I might taxi with Bob.” Bradley replied, jogging on the spot before giving his lower back a little twist side to side. Bob just rolled his eyes, to the untrained eye he was the kind of guy who kept his shirt on during beach days, but he thoroughly enjoyed cardio. If Rooster's plan had been to taxi with him during the mile run he was in for a rude shock, but Bob knew he was gonna lose time in the pull-up department. “You ready to go man?”

“As ready as I'll ever be for this kind of workout.” Bob groned. “If I say I twisted my ankle now, do I still have to participate?” The group all laughed at the near winge that left Bob's mouth, he really wasn't up for this today–but what you came back with made the gym explode with boisterous laughter.

“If you dont be careful Lieutenant Floyd l’ll pack an extra pound into your weight vest.”

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

Phoenix saw her opportune moment to strike about half way through the first half mile. Bradley was starting to show a red hume across his face, a thin layer of sweat had started to form across his forehead and Phoenix knew that if he was focusing hard enough on keeping his pace steady with one foot in front of the other, she knew he was in no position to formulate a lie.

“So–Bradshaw.” Phoenix started as she came up to jog beside Rooster. “How far along is she?”

“How far along is who?” Bradley replied as he kept his head straight, focused on the marker up ahead that indicated the turn around point. Watching as Jake and Javy booked it around one another, racing ahead of the rest of the group who had all opted to taxi their way through this.

“Agony, she's pregnant.” Phoenix spoke with such conviction that Bradley found it near impossible to try and formulate a lie that would cover up the truth of the matter. “I saw you put your hand on her stomach, and I know you wouldnt do that if she wasnt pregnant.”

“She's feeling a little off today, little spud is kicking her around a little.” It was all the conformation Phoenix needed to let out a little squeal as she beamed at Rooster, smacking him in the shoulder. “Ow!”

“Why would you keep this from us! Rooster! That's amazing, congratulations!”

“We just wanted to enjoy it for a while, just us, we haven't even told her parents yet.” Bradley explained as he made it to the turnabout point with Phoenix, both keeping each other's pace. “She's four months, we don't wanna know the sex, but everything is going the way it should, doc said she’ll need to start pulling back soon though.”

“Ah, so thats why she isn’t participating in the torture.” Phoenix had picked up on the fact you weren’t participating today, she thought it was odd that you weren't but wasn't about to question it. She was scared you'd match her attitude and give her an extra 100 push ups. “Mrs Bradshaw is knocked up.”

“Yeah.” Bradley chuckled, he liked the sound of that. “I had to beg her not to last night when I saw the MURPH file sitting out on the dining table, got down on my knees and everything.”

“You couldn't have just talked her out of the whole plan entirely?” Phoenix whined, starting to feel a little more puffed from talking as she jogged with Bradley. Starting to really feel herself warming up.

“Oh trust me, I tried that too.” Bradley explained, laughing as he remembered how that conversation ended. “She seduced me just to get me to shut up.”

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

By the time Rooster and Phoenix got back to the hanger turned gym, Jake and Javy were already going ten reps for ten reps with their pull ups. Bob, Fanboy and Payback were just standing there, watching as they caught their breath and waited for Rooster and Phoenix to return.

“Alright ladies, now that everyones back, there's no rest for the wicked.” You turned up the volume on the speaker you stood by before making your way over. “Lets hussle, clocks still ticking and the faster you get this done the less time you have to spend here with me.”

Fanboy groaned as he turned to Bob, sharing a painful look of ‘I'm over this already.’

“How are you gonna break this up, Roo?” You cooed, coming to stand by your husband as you watched Payback and Phoenix get to work on the rig, everyone was working on their pull ups first. “If it was me i'd do ten at a time.”

“I think I should be able to manage twenty-five at a time.” He smiled, mumbling under his breath in your ear as he leaned in to kiss your earlobe. “Phoenix knows you're pregnant by the way.”

“What!?” You gasped. “How did she find out! You said we weren’t gonna tell anyone yet?”

“Saw me touch your stomach before, figured it was a little sus.” Bradley cooed. “I'm sorry.”

“No, no don't be, it was bound to happen sooner or later.” You accepted the reality, watching as your group worked through their reps, taking notice of Bob who was severely lacking in his rep range. “Floyd! Chin to bar!”

“Yeah Bob, chin to bar.” Hangman added, laughing with that thousand watt grin he was known for. “Bradshaw! Stop trying to flirt your way out of this!”

“That's my cue.” Bradley groaned, throwing his head back as he ran his hands through sweat covered locks. “Play nice please.”

“Nope, hop to it Lieutenant–” You bit back, biting your bottom lip as you cautiously and ever so discreetly slapped Bradley on the arse, watching as you sauntered away with a little more pep in his step.

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

“I feel like my arms are gonna pop off!” Next was the push ups. Mickey groaned as he did his set of twenty as you came to kneel beside him. “You’re a vicious and cruel woman.”

“Well I guess Agony is rather fitting, isn't it Fanboy?” you questioned through a soft laugh as you pressed a hand between his shoulder blades. “Retract your scaps, you're relying too much on your triceps, put the pressure through your chest and your longevity will increase.”

“If i wasn't so mad i'd say thankyou.” He groaned, keeping on keeping on with his reps. As soon as he was done, Rooster started his, same as Payback.

“Hmm, I'll take it.” You ruffled Mickey's hair, wiping the sweat you collected onto the thigh of your pants as you stood, feeling light headed as you rose too quickly. “Oh–” Your vision blurred momentarily as a slight ringing in your ears rang out, you tried to breathe through it, but you couldn't catch the feeling.

“Hey Aggie, you okay?” It was Hangman who noticed that you were looking a little unsteady at first, but as soon as the words were leaving his mouth? You were going down. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as the dizziness from standing too quickly took over you entirely. “Oh shit!” It normally wouldn't have been an issue, but you'd been feeling a little unsteady all day. “Y/n–” Hangman was quick to move to break your fall, catching you in his arms before you could hit the ground. “Rooster! Get over here will ya?” Jake called out, Bradley hadnt seen you fall, he was too busy focusing on his push-ups. “It's Y/n.”

“What's wrong?” Bradley asked as he stood, noticing you passed out in Jake's arms. “Oh my god, hey–” He cooed, tapping your cheek softly as he crouched beside you on the other side of Jake, the whole ordeal had grabbed the attention of all the aviators you had in your gym. “Hey, darling, you okay? Open your eyes for me baby.”

You did, slowly, fluttering your eyelids with a soft groan as you tried to sit up, still feeling dizzy.

“Woah–easy there killer, what's going on? I've never seen you pass out like that before.” Although Jake was technically addressing you, Bradley held a palm to your forehead as he pressed his lips together, watching as you struggled to focus on what was going around you.

“She’s pregnant–” The gym went completely silent at Bradley’s major announcement. “I gotta get her to the hospital in case there's something wrong.”

“Bradley, I'm fine.” You tried to reason with your husband as he scooped you up and into his arms, waiting for you to wrap your arms around his neck before he stood. “I promise, I just felt a little light headed is all.”

“Yeah, no I don't care, we’re getting you checked out.” There was a distinct shift in Bradley’s tone, before he was playful, enjoying the workout as much as he could but now? He was as serious as ever, nothing was more important to him than you, his family.

“Bradley, I'm in the middle of instructing a class.” Again you tried to defend the unnecessary need to go get checked out. You really didn’t feel like it was that big of an issue. “I can’t just leave? Everyone needs—“ Before you could finish, Bradley was interrupting.

“Guys? you good?” Bradley turned around, addressed the totally stunned and flabbergasted group who just looked at him like he’d just dropped a major bomb on them. That his wife was expecting, you were gonna be a mother, and he, Bradley Rooster Bradshaw, was gonna be a dad. “You know what you’re doing don't you?”

“Uh, yeah–” Bob started.

“We’re good.” Payback stammered.

“We’ll be fine, just go make sure everything’s okay.” Phoenix added.

“What do you mean Y/n’s pregnant!?” Hangman asked, standing there with wide eyes and a confused expression. Bradley didn’t respond, he simply turned on his heels and continued on his way, carrying you over to the admin building on base to get you checked out.

“Do I need to have the sex education talk with you Seresin?” Phoenix teased. “Did your parents never give you the birds and the bees talk?” Jake just sent her a look.

“You fucking knew didnt you?” He called Phoenix on her cool calm and collected manor. Something was up.

“Only for like twenty more minutes than you.”

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

“Take a picture, it’ll last long.” You pouted from your position on the hospital bed, hooked up to a heart rate monitor. Bradley sat beside you, hand in yours as he just stared at you. Trying to get a read on how you were actually feeling because he knew you weren’t telling him the truth.

“Woah, that was incredibly rude, Mrs Bradshaw.” Bradley teased as he let go of your hand, leaning back in the chair he sat perched in. stretching his arms up over his head, enough so that the bottom of his shirt pulled up, exposing his lower abdomen for a second. An incredible sight. “I'm just doing what any good husband would do, you know, making sure your health is in top priority.”

“I'm A Personal Training Instructor for the United States Navy.” You reminded your husband, deadpanning him as you swirled your palm across your stomach. Stupid hospital gown covering your small bump. “Uncle Sam pays me to make sure you keep your health in tip top shape, it's not the other way around.” Bradley sent you a childish lok as his snickered back at you as you stuck your tongue out at him. “Listen, I’m fine, I'm just not used to my equilibrium being so off, I got up too quick and lost my balance, I'm fine.”

“Why don't we let the doctor be the judge of that?” Bradley sighed, leaning forward as he rose from his seat to kiss your cheek. You just accepted the loving gesture as he cupped your cheeks, swiping the pad of his thumb across your cheek. “I just worry about you, because I love you and if anything ever happened to you I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for not doing enough when I could have.”

“Good thing I love you more huh?” You cooed, watching as Bradley sat back down as Doctor Richard’s entered the room.

“That my dear, is not possible.” Rooster just managed to get his reply in before Doctor Richards smiled.

“Well the good thing is there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with bubs from the ultrasound.” She explained as she read through your chart. “But it seems as though you’re experiencing some bouts of low blood pressure Mrs Bradshaw.”

“Low blood pressure?” Bradley questioned. “That can just happen? Y/n doesn’t have low blood pressure?” He was right, you didn’t, but you seemed to have it now.

“I can assure you Mr. Bradshaw it’s a very common occurrence during the first twenty four weeks of pregnancy, I wouldn’t be too alarmed as long as you manage it.” Doctor Richards addressed you as you sat up a little straighter in your bed.

“How would you like me to do that Doc?” You asked with a sigh, it wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy being pregnant. You did and you were so excited for your little one to arrive. What was annoying though was the fact you had been told to slow down, take things easy, enjoy the time you had with your baby. You were naturally a physically active person. Slowing down just wasn’t in your DNA.

“Take it easy. Try to slow down a little? I understand you’re a PTI? Perhaps avoiding strenuous activity for the time being will help.” Doctor Richards explained. “Try to avoid making sudden movements, like standing up too quickly. It shouldn’t be a long term thing but for now? Monitor your systems, drink plenty of water to stay hydrated to increase your blood volume.”

“Aye aye captain.” You groaned, saluting Dr. Richards as you slumped a little. Rooster caught onto your bad mood instantly, deciding to take over the conversation for you.

“We’ll do our best Doc, thanks for checking up on her.”

“Anytime—I’ll have your charts done up and send a discharge notice to the ladies at Reception.” She explained before leaving the room, giving you and Bradley a moment alone. He was silent as you walked Ike’s at him. Expecting him to say he told you so.

“You feelings alright?” He asked softly.

“I’m fine—just need a moment to truly process that my career is over.” You groaned, lying back as you faught of tears, it was the hormones, but not really. You just knew this day was coming.

“What are you talking about?” Bradley asked, concern lacing his tone of voice as he sat as close to you as he possibly could. “Darlin—?”

“If I can’t train, I can’t tell others to train. I can’t be a hypocrite.” You explained as tears fell down your cheeks. “I’ll go on maternity leave and lose my strength, my endurance, my body is already changing and I can only imagine what it’ll be like after having this beautiful baby.” You were well aware how crazy you sounded but it’s how you felt. “Bradley, I hope you don’t take this as me not loving every single moment of this because I am—“ You sobbed as Braldey held your hand and brought it to his lips. “I’m just scared of how becoming a mother is gonna affect the career I worked so hard to build.”

“I understand baby.” Bradley tried his best to console you, he wasn’t going to tell you that none of what you were worried about was going to happen. He knew that there was a possibility it could. It had happened to other women before you and it would certainly happen after. “But if anyone can manage being a wonderful, caring mother and a fierce, incredibly talented career woman it’s you.”

“You think so?” You couldn’t help but to scoff lightly through your tears as you turned your head to look at your husband, so thankful for his every strong presence and support.

“Honey I know so, we’ll do whatever it takes to get you right back to where you were before this little one came along.” He smiled, helping you sit up. “But let’s focus on you now? Alright, keep that blood pressure from dropping, keep you healthy and happy mama.”

“Oh god!” You remembered the fact Bradley had mentioned to every single Dagger that you were pregnant. “Oh my god Roo, they’re gonna tackle us!” You leaned forward into your husband's chest as he laughed and kissed the top of your head. “I guess we better get back and get it over with huh?”

“Yeah, better to rip the Band-Aid off fast than to drag it out.”

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

By the time you got back to base, the entire Dagger Squad was waiting back in the rec room. When you and Bradley entered cautiously, they all stood up as if they were expecting life altering news.

“Is everything alright?” Bob asked, you never thought his eyes could get any bigger—but as he looked at you with hope filled eyes, you knew you’d been wrong.

“Everything’s fine.” You smiled, wrapping your arm around Rooster's torso. Pulling him close as he sighed and filled in the gaps.

“Mum and Bub are doing well, just got a little low blood pressure to manage but other than that? Everything else seems to be just fine.” Everyone went quiet, all silently thanking the heavens above and those in it that nothing major had occurred. Until Fanboy said what everyone was thinking—

“Can we go back to the part where you’re pregnant and didn’t tell any of us?”

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

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #rooster x you #top gun rooster

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beelmons · 9 months

Note

I have a filthy idea and I love your blog sorry

Hotch x reader x Early seasons!Spencer (or really any older BAU with reader and Spencer, someone has to show him the ropes, right?😩)

Reader is bound and blindfolded. Hotch is trailing a popsicle over reader's skin, showing Spencer where they are most sensitive and Spencer licks the trail of sticky syrup left behind. 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️(lord have mercy I'm a whore)

A/N: Ok so, i really got into this idea and i ended up doing WAY too much and i'm sorry it's so late but i got too excited. anyways, have this monstruosity.

A different kind of teacher

cw: sensory deprivation (hand binding, blindfold, noise-cancelling headphones), threesome, temprature play (use of frozen goods), fellatio, fem!reader, implied polyamory i guess

word count: 1,996 (on accident)

"I don't think that's—" Spencer tried to interrupt when his boss's actions got questionable.

"It's alright." Hotch answered as he gently tied the blindfold behind your head "She's done this before. I told you, if you’re going to learn how to please her, you’re going to do it my way."

"But that's—" he tried to argue again.

"Reid." Aaron said commandingly.

Their bickering was rather amusing, really. Everything about this situation was. A love-struck puppy, namely Spencer, that had found out you were having an affair, for a lack of a better word, with your boss. Who was later given the odd offer to join in, one that he barely comprehended the dynamic of. The one he ended up accepting because having half of you was better than having none.

The situation in question was no other than your bare body binded to a sex sofa, yes, the one with a funny oval-like shape, in the middle of a street motel. Mind you, a high category one, courtesy of a very spoiling unit chief. Hands tied behind the furniture, a blindfold securely tied against your eyes, and a pair of sound-canceling headphones that would be eventually put on you.

“I don’t think I can do this.” the younger man confessed.

His superior shot him a glare, and his finger raised to press against his own lips, indicating the other to keep quiet. He then proceeded to place the aforementioned gadget against your ears to muffle the sounds.

“You can’t let your nerves overtake you.” Aaron began to talk, walking closer to the chair where Spencer was sitting “Otherwise, you won’t enjoy yourself. And believe me, she wants you to have as much fun as she does.”

“I just have never done something remotely similar.” he admitted.

“And that’s okay, that’s why I’m here to guide you.” Hotch patted him on the shoulder, prompting him to stand up, to which Reid complied.

As the older man directed himself to the cooler, included with the room by the way, Spencer stood awkwardly next to where you were laying. Regardless of his statements about the situation, the twitching of his dick as he watched you breathing, rather heavily, blissfully ignorant of the sinful deeds they were about to do to you, was giving away just how much into it he was.

“You should learn to use your tongue first.” the boss interrupted his train of thought “We’re going to do a little exercise, okay? I’ll trail this over her skin, her most sensitive spots. Clean her up. You have to be thorough, she doesn’t like feeling sticky.”

You were absolutely deprived of such supportive conversation, or anything else for that matter. It was exciting in and on itself to be expectant of what would happen next, along with no indication whatsoever of what that would be. Two, insanely hot, men having you at their entire disposal was certainly arousing.

Such anticipation caused you to moan rather loudly when you felt a cold object hit the side of your neck, slowly melting down towards the base, the feeling only lasted a couple of seconds since it was shortly after contrasted with the warm sensation of what you figured was a tongue following the strip.

It was quick. It left your skin as soon as it came.

The lack of attention, though, would not last long. You felt a new sting of coldness, only this time it was right over your breast; instead of dripping down, the same tool, whatever it was, moved downwards until it reached your nipple. You could feel it going slightly numb from the temperature, it was making your stomach tighten. Again, you felt it part and something a lot hotter took its place. This time, you could easily tell who was taking advantage of your breasts by the bony structure of the fingers.

Spencer was ravishing on the sweet taste of the icicle mixed with the salty notes of your sweat. His tongue was eager and clumsy, but pleasurable nonetheless, his fingers gentle and attentive to the sides of the skin, holding back to not let his animalistic side just come out.

“That’s good.” Hotch praised the young man “It’s all about not knowing what to expect. About surprising her with sudden pleasure.”

Back in your deprived state, you were simply squirming with delight at how your chest was being treated, mouth slightly agape to allow soft sounds of pleasure to escape. The gap was tempting for one of the men, still unknown to you, to defile, and suddenly you felt something land over your lips. You recognized the mixture of freezing water and sugar, and your tongue instinctively darted out to take a lick.

The treat instead began to lewdly penetrate your mouth, simulating a fellatio, and the length of it would teasingly near the back of your throat each time.

The icicle departed promptly, leaving your lips parted and tingly from the coldness, expectant to be inserted again. Instead, the temperature of the new foreign object was the complete opposite, its structure soft to an extent, and salty in flavor. It didn't take you long to notice it was no longer the sugary dessert, but one of your partners' cock.

"Go slow at first, it takes her a second to get used to it." Hotch dragged a hand behind your head, pushing forward gently so you could get more of his shaft into your mouth “But she can take it very well.”

His fingers trailed over your scalp lovingly. His moans were translated in heavy, airy exhales through his nose. He was obviously playing tough for Spencer, no matter how much your mouth actually disarranged him on the daily. He thrusted a couple more times, until he was fully hard, before he pulled out.

He made a signal with his hand to indicate the younger to take over, and Reid swallowed back a knot of nervousness. He awkwardly cupped your head between his palms and allowed his tip to testingly land on your tongue. He shuddered with pleasure as your lips hungrily wrapped around it, hollowing your cheeks almost immediately.

You could tell the member had changed simply by the shape. Leaner girth, more swollen head, and an almost desperate way of moving. He started doubtfully at first, and later his pace began to pick up. His grip on your head was tight, making you unable to move away, and with every push he would reach deeper into your mouth, and the pulsations on his veins would also have a stronger beat.

Spencer was losing it, mouth parted open, head thrown back, desperate whines spilling from his throat. His inexperience was his biggest enemy, because he didn’t last much inside of you. When he started to feel his orgasm coming, he decided to pull away. His fist curled around his shaft, pumping the base at a rapid speed, his tip pointing to his own stomach, since, to him, coming inside your mouth seemed dirty, almost too humiliating.

Hotch stared with amusement at how respectful he was being, rookie mistake, he figured. Too overwhelmed with his own pleasure, Spencer had his eyes fully shut, and became absolutely unaware of the second Aaron gently placed his fingers over the moving hand, pushing it down to aim the tip towards your mouth.

You simply waited for the inevitable, the white strings landing on your tongue, salty and thick, and a lot more than you had expected. When you were sure no more would come out, you attempted to swallow, but before you could close your mouth a thumb invaded it, keeping it open.

“Watch this magic trick.” Aaron showed Spencer the evidence of his release before shutting your mouth again.

You took the hint and swallowed, immediately opening your mouth once again to show no trace of the substance left.

Spencer had to bring a hand to his face to hide his blush, although his again half-hard dick gave him away.

“That’s actually really hot.” he said shyly, brows furrowed in embarrassment.

“It is.” Hotch smiled in his direction “Now that you’ve come, it’s just natural to return the favor, don’t you agree?”

The older man directed himself again to the cooler, taking now a single ice cube that he held with a piece of clothing to avoid getting frostbite.

“Your training isn’t over yet.” he told Spencer once he was back to your side “Next, let’s get you a real challenge. If one drop of this cube gets on the sofa, you don’t get to touch her the rest of the night.”

“W-What? Isn’t that a bit harsh?” he complained.

“If you make her cum before it fully melts,” Hotch ignored the protest “You can fuck her first.”

Again, your senses were too limited to hear their bet being formed. During their exchanges you just waited patiently, eager to know what would come next. Every once in a while, when the cool air hit you, you tensed up expecting something to happen, and even when it didn’t you just got more excited.

At last, another sting of coldness hit your skin, this time it was further to the south, just above your clit. You could feel the object slowly melting, the lack of heat spreading to your bundle of nerves, your labia, and almost to your entrance. It was mildly uncomfortable, but exciting nonetheless.

Out of a sudden, you felt a muscle enter you. You bolted in ecstasy due to finally getting much needed friction on your lower body. It trailed up, slowly and steady, until it reached the top. The lips rounded your sensitive nub, and you could feel them suck on it. The sensation was overwhelming, making you twist over the sofa, shameless erotic moans filling up the room.

The water kept making its way down your sex, and the tongue diligently prevented it from reaching all the way to the leather, driving you insane with each lap at it. Your hands struggled against the binds that tied you down. You wanted nothing more than to hold his head down and bury it against you, to have him flush against your entrance, just licking you over and over again.

A hand landed on your head, indicating that you should keep your movements to yourself. The commanding ambience just added to your stimulation, the mouth down your body sucking the neverending stream of water as if trying to lick it dry. Your thighs attempted to close around his head, and you were finally able to grind against him. For some reason, that did it for you, and you allowed your climax to reach you, and your fluids to come out.

“Impressive.” Hotch praised as he removed the ice cube from your body.

Spencer, however, did not stop, his tongue moving ruthlessly against your entrance, absolutely drunk on your taste. Aaron could see you squirm uncomfortably, being pushed to a point of overstimulation, hands restlessly clinging onto nothing in an attempt to release the slight pain on your abused clit.

“Reid.” he called trying to make him stop; the younger man, however, was entranced by your pussy, and did not react to the mention of his name. Hotch was forced to step closer, tangle his fingers on the blond’s hair, and pull his head back by tugging on his locks, forcing him away from you “Behave. There’s plenty of time for more later.”

He spoke so sternly that it sent shivers down Spencer’s spine, almost as he did during work cases. He nodded with compliance and straightened himself again.

“Sorry.” Reid ashamedly said.

“It’s alright. I know how addicting it can be.” while talking, he rummaged through a go-bag he had brought earlier into the room. “Now,” he tossed a condom towards Spencer “Get ready for lesson number two.”

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prettiestboyev · 3 months

Text

DO NOT TOUCH ( bang chan )

sypnosis ! you're a member in stray kids, and you accidentally flex your abs to your stays. the members want a feel of your figure, but so did channie.

pairing ! idol!bangchan x idol!reader ( was written with male in mind, but pronouns are never mentioned so i suppose it can be read as fem or gn too )

cw ! jealous channie, suggestive but subtle moves on reader by channie, minho and i.n touching reader's abs, mentions that changbin and reader are shipped a lot, corny ass ending

a/n ! this was so shit im CRYING but its ok ig. PLEASE GUYS REQUESSTT im losing inspiration

Performing with your band like usual, the crowds shouting fanchants and you can, like always, hear the faint sound of people screaming your name. Who could blame them? You are one of the hottest idols in the industry.

You laughed mentally at your own egoistic thoughts, you believed everything except that. You were attractive, sure, but a lot of stays and people who biased you put you on a pedestal in your opinion.

As the music in your earpiece ended, signaling the close end of the concert, you felt a sudden heatwave on your body. Sweat, more than usual anyway, dripped down your leather outfit, you took the chance and grabbed the hem of your shirt and used it to wipe the droplets of sweat off your forehead, panting lively.

In that moment, you heard the faint sound of fans grow into something extreme, hints of "woah" and "damn" crawling in your ear aswell. You were a bit confused, did someone do something? Then you saw the looks your members were giving you. Oh.

Oh.

You chuckled, it going loud from the headset microphone you all wore, making the screams only worse. "Yes, yes, a man has abs and it's the end of the world." You joked, your charming voice sending fans into a state of swoon, and if possible, making them scream even louder.

"If it's you, then yeah" Changbin said into the microphone, making the fans squeal since you two were shipped a lot because fans can't stand idols being friends (you guys literally almost kissed once).

You laughed at him, hitting his shoulder lightly as a joke as your maknae, I.N. went up to you and hit your stomach. "Ouch!" You winced, hitting the younger male back as he laughed, complimenting your strong figure.

Minho then walked up, pulling your shirt and revealing the abs once more, the squeals that were finally dying down from your fans then grew in a wave of excitement from the move. "I never knew you worked out." He said quietly into the mic.

Though all your members gushed over your figure, the only person that you had your eyes on was Bang Chan, your leader, who was so fucking hot to you. I mean, who you thought was a great producer with very amazing humor, who just was attractive to you sometimes. Gosh, especially with his blonde luxurious curly ha-

"N/N, let's work out together sometime." He said to you, snapping you out of your very appropriate train of thoughts. You nodded, happily dreaming about the idea.

In Bang Chan's mind, he was fuming with jealousy. He wanted to rub his hands all over your abs just like his other members did, but that was just too out of character for Channie. He sighed, quietly, as he dealt with only touching your shoulders and subtly tracing the blades of them, making you chuckle.

You adjusted your microphone so your words wouldn't blast in the speakers, whispering in his ear with a mouth over your lips, so no magical lip- reader could expose you.

"Don't worry, you can touch me later, I can sense your grumpiness from here, Channie." The words placed a smile on his face.

He slapped your head teasingly, rubbing your hair as the fumes from earlier calmed down. After all, the other members could touch you and rub you all they like,

But he'll always be the one you'll dream about.

#skz au #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #stray kids #stray kids smau #stray kids x reader #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan smut #bang chan x you #bang chan x male reader #skz x male reader #stray kids x male reader #skz #skz imagines

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inuyashaluver · 3 months

Note

can you please do one where less and reader is dating but some rumour came out ( like reader is cheating) or something because reader is seen with someone else quite a lot and they just have a argument but it turns out that reader is just planning to propose to less? Ur fics are the BESTTT

i can’t believe you - alessia russo

alessia russo x reader

description: in which your special surprise for your girlfriend gets spoilt by cheating rumours

warnings: angsty, mentions of cheating, multiple tears shed, miscommunication but happy happy ending

a/n: ahhh! this was so 🤍, thank you so much for the love, baby!!, i hope you enjoyyy ❤️ no joke, i teared up while writing this because i felt bad

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you and your girlfriend, alessia knew each other better than you knew yourselves. you knew each other majority of your lives when you played for the same youth clubs.

you followed each other everywhere. whatever alessia did, you did, whatever you did, alessia did. it was simple.

you were two peas in a pod and that’s how you liked it, after your years of friendship, you both began dating when you studied in north carolina. she loved to tease you that you only made a move because she wore the captain’s armband, you would not confirm nor deny.

—

when you both came back from college and signed with manchester united, people saw the true alessia and (y/n) that were obsessed with each other.

it was a random day when you both went to training, hand in hand with cheesy smiles as you enter the change room that had numerous groans of teasing echoing in the room.

you both find it really hard to be apart from each other but alessia genuinely thought the world would end if you weren’t holding her hand. your cubbies are directly next to each other but she drags you to squeeze in hers.

if you get up to move, she’ll pout at you until you kiss her to make her feel better. you know her little tricks but you’re not complaining.

you stand up from her cubby after lacing your boots, squeezing her thigh before you get up, “where are you going?” she protests immediately, rushing to grab your hand to stop your movements.

“to the bathroom, baby, i’ll be two seconds” you giggle affectionately, kissing the crown of her head before making your way to the bathroom. her eyes watch you intently as you walk out of the room before ella plops down next to her and puts her in a choke hold.

“can’t survive without your little girlfriend, huh, less?” she teases, alessia grumbles and pushes her off, “fuck off, yes i can” she scoffs with a roll of her eyes. ella’s smirk turns into bright laughter when alessia’s face visibly brightens when you come back.

alessia glares at her until you come to stand in between her legs. she immediately wraps her arms around the back of your thighs while her head rests on her stomach. you smile as she leans into you as you play with the ends of her ponytail.

“why is my girlfriend pissed, tooney wooney?” you tease, giggling when alessia pulls you closer, almost making you fall on top of her.

“i just said she couldn’t live without you” she shrugs, alessia rests her chin on your stomach to look up at you. “baby, tell her i can!” she pouts, you smile amusingly at her and nod with a coo, “you can, lessi” she smiles satisfied and buries her face into your jersey, missing how you winked at ella.

you don’t blame your girlfriend though, you’re always together, it was the normal for both of you. ella masks her laugh and winks back at you before moving off so you could sit in your regular spot next to your girlfriend.

she immediately kicks her legs into your lap, you pull her closer while you smile sweetly at her. she puckers her lips at you and you close the gap without any second thought, kissing her gently a couple of times before pulling away and hyping her up for training.

“come on, star girl, training!” you tap her legs and she groans, shaking her head. “no, babe” she challenges, you smile at her, “hm, yes, babe” you tease her with a grin. she narrows her eyes at you for a second and rolls them when you cock your head at her.

“fine” she huffs, placing two hands on your hips to pull you into another kiss, one of her hands moves to the back of your head to deepen it and you have to push her away with quite a lot of strength to separate. “lessi” you warn, she squeezes your hips in response, you lean closer to her so her lips ghost yours, “training” you whisper, pecking them quickly and leaving her a flustered mess.

you pair up for training and giggle with each other, your bright smiles contagious for everyone on the team.

—

when you and alessia moved to arsenal, things couldn’t have been better. you both fit in like you’d been there all along. you and alessia moved to a new house and everything was just perfect. you two were extremely happy, so happy that you had a special plan up your sleeve.

it was extremely hard to keep it a secret but you were finally ready to propose to alessia. you’d bought the ring years ago, literally when you came back from college but the times didn’t feel right.

but everything recently had just been falling into place, you just needed the perfect plan, and who else would you employ other than leah williamson to help you out?

you and alessia were extremely close with leah, having known each other for years. you wanted to ask lotte but you and her collectively agreed that alessia would catch on quickly.

and so you started the planning with leah.

—

“baby, i’m just going to leah’s to help her with something around the house” you rush out after you both get home from training. she looks up at you confusingly as she sits on the couch, you always cuddle and watch something when you got home.

“what does she need help with?” alessia questions, watching you scramble to get things together. “just a flat pack or something, baby” you say randomly, her eyebrows furrow but she chooses not to question it. “oh okay” she says quite sadly and you feel bad, instantly.

“i’ll be back soon, love, i’ll get takeout for dinner and we can cuddle when i get back” you suggest, smiling when your girlfriend’s expression softens. “okay” she smiles, nodding at you, you lean down from the back of the couch and kiss her gently, pulling away with multiple pecks to her cheek making her giggle and squirm.

“i love you” you whisper in her ear, “i love you too” she whispers back, you grin at her again and kiss her quickly once more before rushing out the door.

—

over the span of two weeks, alessia was left at home for most of them. she trusted you with every bone in her body but things were popping up in the media that she couldn't help but look at them. pictures were popping up of you and leah in town, shopping, hanging out and people were questioning your loyalty.

alessia knew you wouldn’t cheat on her, she knew how much you love her but she’s only human, maybe the photos didn’t look friendly, you were hanging out with leah a lot, you were leaving her at home to be with leah. thoughts were lingering and she couldn’t help it.

—

the reality was that you and leah were perfecting the little details for your proposal. the plan was simple: you would take out alessia to dinner at her favourite restaurant, getting her flowers and chocolate.

after that, you would take her to the beach where you have an elaborate set up waiting for her. a large heart made out of rose petals with candles lighting up the sand. a photographer would be hiding and you would propose.

then, you’d take her back home, all your nearest and dearests waiting for the two of you. photos would be plastered of the two of you all over the place, it was alessia dream proposal, you knew she would love it.

—

you’d come back one night after being at leah’s all day basically, you were proposing tomorrow. alessia went to get dinner with lotte, which ended up being cut short by the blonde crying in lotte’s arms asking why you didn’t want her anymore. (you didn’t know this)

“baby?” you sing out excitedly, your eyebrows furrow at the human golden retriever not bounding over to you like she always does. you rush and get your jacket and shoes off, moving closer into the house to try and find your special girl.

it was when you entered the dimly lit living room that you heard the soft sniffles coming from a bundle of blankets that you felt your heart shatter into pieces.

“lessi?” you ask softly, moving the blanket off her to see her tear stained cheeks and red nose.

she cries more when she sees you, “don’t, ‘lessi’ me, i can’t believe you” she cries, harshly wiping the tears off her cheeks. you sit down next to her instantly, “hey, what’s wrong?” you place a hand on her thigh and she tenses, you pull back instantly with a pained expression.

“you” she sobs, her body is wracking with tears and you don’t know what to do. “baby, what did i do? talk to me” you plead, your own eyes are filling with tears at seeing alessia sob, in all your years of dating, she’s never cried this hard.

“you don’t want me anymore” she chokes out, “you want leah” the tears are falling at a frantic rate and she’s rubbing them so harshly with the sleeves of her (your) hoodie.

“what?” you exclaim loudly, “what are you talking about?” you grab both of her hands and wipe her tears off her cheeks, much more gently than she was previously doing.

“you’re never home! if you don’t want to be with me anymore fucking break up with me, say it to my face!” she sobs, you pull her to your chest and she thumps her fist on it.

“i don’t want to break up with you, alessia, please-” you start but she hits you again, it’s not enough to hurt you physically but it’s doing wonders emotionally. each one felt like a stab to the chest.

“why are you always with leah, why don’t you want me anymore?” she cries, leaning into you slightly as you hold her to you tightly. “fuck, alessia, no, baby, me and leah are just planning something, please, it means nothing” you assure, she shakes her head. another hit.

“but it does mean something, you’re not here, i’m alone every night, my fucking phone is blowing up and it’s driving me insane.” her tears are soaking your shirt but you don’t care.

“alessia, look at me” you say sternly, she swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at you through her wet lashes, she sniffles when you make eye contact.

“alessia, i love you, i love you more than anyone in this world, leah is a friend, our friend and that’s all she is. you’re my person, i love you” you choke out, tears were falling down your own cheeks now and alessia instinctively wiped them.

“you know what? fuck it!” you get out of the embrace and sprint to your bedroom, throwing it apart to get the ring you’ve been hiding for years. you stumble as you run back to her on the couch and look at her breathlessly, ring in hand behind your back.

“leah has been helping me in planning something very special for you” she sniffs as she looks at you, listening to you intently.

“i had this big, fucking, elaborate plan but it’ll have to wait for tomorrow, i don’t care, i’m doing this now” you quickly wipe a tear before getting down on one knee. alessia gasps loudly and covers her mouth with her hands, she’s sobbing all over again.

“alessia mia teresa russo” you choke out, taking a deep breath before taking the ring out from behind your back, alessia’s eyes widen when she sees the ring, sobbing uncontrollably.

“my pretty girl, my favourite person in the whole world. the first time i met you when we were 10, i told my family that i was going to marry you and i kept my promise” you swallow, she looks at you trying your best keep her composure, each word clinging to her ear as you spoke.

“my alessia, you’re kind, smart, beautiful and the sweetest person alive and that’s only some of the things i love about you.” you take a deep breath, tears were falling fast and hard for both of you.

“i love the way you can’t sleep without me scratching your back, the way your nose crinkles when you laugh, the way you drag me along to all your nail appointments to make me get matching nails with you”

you both let out a wet laugh, alessia looks at you with sweetest expression, her eyes were filled with love, but nothing compared to the way you were looking at her right now, she takes a mental photograph of it to replay it forever.

“you’re my best friend, my person, i couldn’t imagine a life without you, and so, i’m asking you to be my best friend forever, will you marry me?” you ask nervously, alessia lets out a sob and nods, pulling you into a bone crushing hug while kneeling on the floor with you. her face buries itself in your neck as you both cry, clutching onto each other for dear life.

“i love you, i love you so much” you coos, running a hand through her hair while her arms grip you tightly. “i love you” she breathes out, moving back to look at you. “my future wife” you breathe out in slight disbelief, her heart jolts. “my future wife” she parrots under her breath, her eyes tracing all over your face before you pull her into a passionate kiss.

it’s frantic and needy but soft and loving all at the same time. you’re moving completely in sync and she hums against you in relief. she pulls away to rest her forehead on yours, “i’m so sorry for everything” she sniffs, choking back her tears as you look at each other. “don’t be sorry, baby, it’s okay” you coo, moving a stray piece of hair from her forehead.

“fucking media bullshit” she grits out, you laugh affectionately and peck her lips a couple times, she smiles into you, “fucking media bullshit” you say in agreement, looking at her with a cheeky smile.

“can i put the ring on you, beautiful?” you grin as she nods instantly, “yes please” you take it out from the box and slip it in her finger, a complete, utter perfect fit. her breath hitches when she sees it on her finger, looking up at you then back at the ring and back at you again.

she surges forward to kiss you again, “i love you” she mumbles against your lips, you smile into her, “i love you too” you grin, kissing her deeply as you pull her to sit on the couch. after a whole lot of kissing and talking, you and alessia cuddle, she lays on top of your chest as you run your hands on her back under her hoodie.

“can we still do the proposal you planned?” alessia looks up at you from your chest, “but you have the ring already, baby” you chuckle, pinching her cheek affectionately.

“but you worked so hard on it, i feel awful” she admits, pressing a gentle kiss to your sternum. “i’ll still do what i planned and you can wear the ring, lessi” you smile, “you don’t need to feel bad at all, i can’t even imagine how you felt, i'm sorry i wasn't there for you” you look sad and alessia scrambles to straddle your waist.

“no, we’re not going to be sad, we’re forgetting all of this and being happy alessia and (y/n) who are now engaged” she says sternly, you smile up at her affectionately while running your hands over her thighs. “okay, baby” you coo, smiling when she leans down to kiss you.

—

you do your original proposal as planned and alessia and you share tears at every location. it was so special for the two of you and you were so appreciative of each other. ‘in love’ was an understatement.

when you get back to your house to all your guests, alessia looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. you do an emotional speech about alessia before thanking everyone for coming, she cries again when you never take your eyes off her as you spoke about her so affectionately.

you do your rounds together gaining congratulations and as soon as she sees leah she sprints to her. she pulls her in a tight hug and apologises profusely, leah’s eyebrows knit together in worry and confusion as she hugs your now fiancé, looking at you for any answer and you wink in response.

alessia then grabs your hand, dragging you off to look at all the photos around the room, smiling and laughing at old memories.

so no, your proposal didn’t happen the exact way you wanted but you got your girl in the end. it was definitely a story for the books. you love each other dearly and it shows.

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liked by leahwilliamsonn and 44,232 others

alessiarusso99: my best friend, cheers to forever 🥂🍾 i love you x

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yourname: my beautiful girl, i love you so much

↳ alessiarusso99: i love you, baby

leahwilliamsonn: my babies are all grown up

↳ alessiarusso99: i’m so sorry, i love you

↳ leahwilliamsonn: why do you keep saying sorry

↳ yourname: long story

ellatoone: told you! i knew you couldn’t live without her, cheers to my sisters 🥂

↳ yourname: tooney wooney!! sister forever 🥂

↳ alessiarusso99: i won’t even lie, it’s true

↳ ellatoone: sappppppp

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader

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someonealreadyhadmynickname · 10 months

Text

Dad headcanons | Leon S. Kennedy

warnings: pregnancy

I picture Leon being in absolute bliss when you break the news to him. He’ll be laughing while hugging you. He’s never had a normal family, and I believe he would want children of his own. He’ll be so happy he won’t be able to erase a dumb smile from his face for the rest of the day.

Reads lots of articles on parenting and baby development.

A worrywart. One day several noises woke you up late at night and you discovered your husband babyproofing everything in the house. Turns out he was so worried he couldn’t wait til’ the morning.

You have to be very careful about mentioning your cravings because this man is driving in the middle of the storm if that means getting what you want. You’ll have to physically stop him from going out at ungodly hours just because you crave some donuts.

If it were up to him, you wouldn’t even get out of bed. He has to be holding your hand when you use stairs, no matter how many times you’ve tried to convince him you are totally capable of doing it alone.

“What’s next? I’m not allowed to use scissors?”

Your laugh slowly quietens as you notice Leon’s thinking face.

“... I don’t see why you would have to use scissors”

One day he came home with a big present box and when you opened it a german shepherd jumped at you. He got a trained police dog to keep you company. (Not before making extensive research on the best family dogs, of course).

On top of that, he would want to hire someone to help around the house because the thought of you being alone makes him worried sick.

He’s so silly. Talks to your belly all the time. When he comes home he always greets you with “how are my babies doing?”

He goes crazy with baby stuff. Clothes, plushies, bottles, toys, everything he sees in stores ends up in the baby room. The room is so full of stuff you two had to keep some things in the attic. He has promised to stop buying things several times but there’s always something that catches his eye and he has to get it.

“And this is a baby monitor— I know that face, you don’t like it”

“No, I love it, it’s just…”

“Yes?”

“You already bought one of those, love”

“Aha! No, I bought a different one. Now, you see, the one we had doesn’t had all the features this one has…”

Strikes me as the kind of guy who would want to wait a bit before telling people about the pregnancy… However, he ends up spilling the beans two or three times. Also, people kinda catch onto it because all he talks about is about children’s development.

Sometimes you wake up at night to find your lover lying awake, watching at the ceiling. Truth is, he can’t help but worry about your child’s future and spends hours thinking about it; but when you ask him what’s keeping him up, he always answers that the excitement of becoming a dad won’t let him sleep.

Will do the impossible in order to be with you during the delivery. He has warned his superiors months in advance that he needs to rest during the days when is probable the baby is coming. In the worst case scenario, where he isn’t able to make it in time, he is gonna be regretful for a very long time.

Definitely cries the first time he holds his baby.

He randomly wakes up at night and goes to check the baby. He’ll sit in front of the crib and stay there for a while, sometimes he picks the baby up and just holds them. Will always give them a kiss on their forehead before leaving.

Converses with the baby. He could be feeding them, or changing their diaper, and he talks to them as if they could understand him. Tells them about his day, how work is going. If you two were ever to argue (which is very rare and, if you do, always with a certain joke air), he is bringing the baby and puts them on his side. He looks at the baby and asks “can you believe this?”

You’ve found him watching baby cartoons not noticing the child is long asleep.

He is beyond cheerful because everytime you are carrying the baby, they raise their tiny arms to his dad wanting to be held by him.

Asks Claire to babysit whenever you two go out on dates.

Which he later regrets because now, everytime the baby sees Claire, they reach out for her. Even if Leon is carrying them. Makes him a bit jealous.

Your baby walks and talks very early on because of how much time Leon spends with them.

Every parent believes their kid is exceptional, but Leon could win the proudest dad competition. As your child grows up, Leon is so amazed by every milestone they complete. “I’m telling you, this child is going places”, he tells you the day your baby learns to roll over.

You mentioned to him once how cute you thought albums were, so now you two keep one for your kid. He takes terrible photos, but you think those are very adorable and keep them in the album.

Takes playtime seriously. He isn’t like those parents who don’t even care about what’s happening and leave at the middle of the game. Tea party? He is wearing his best clothes. Pretending to be spies? Won’t break character. He will be bashful if you catch him tho.

He has this ongoing thing with your child where they try to build the biggest sandcastle everytime you go to the beach.

He always says ‘I love you’ when saying goodbye. Once your child hurriedly kissed his cheek and pretended to leave, but Leon stopped them and said: “Everytime I tell you I love you, I mean it, it’s not just mindless words. Do you mean it?” He knows that, and god forbids it happens, he could not come back home one day. So it’s crucial for him for his child to understand how much he loves them.

It breaks his heart to leave his family so often. On one occasion he overheard your child begging you to talk to their father and ask him to please stop going on missions.

I picture him having a daughter.

The kind of man who takes his daughter to dates. Everytime he brings you flowers, he has another bouquet for his princess.

Your daughter is a performer. She makes up dances and songs and performs in front of you two.

Once, when she was young, she told him she wanted to marry him. He answered he couldn’t marry her because he is already married to you, to which your girl replied “Can I marry uncle Chris then?” Leon hasn’t recovered from that.

Maybe a bit delusional but you two invite over his D.S.O friends for Christmas, Claire and Chris included, and everyone brings a present for your daughter.

He’d like more than one kid, but often worries about what would happen to his family if he ever goes missing, so for now, another one isn’t in the plans.

Lying by your side at night, he sometimes thanks you for the opportunity to have a family.

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #re2 #resident evil #resident evil 2 #fluff #leon headcanons #tw pregnancy

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

Text

Ausenal

Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader

Summary: You join the other Aussies at Arsenal

"Yeah, all you really need to worry about is if the big girls will let you play with them," Kyra teased from the seat next to you, pinching at your cheek," They might not and then you'll be left on the bench!"

"Kyra!" Steph snapped from the driving seat," Leave her alone!"

"I'm just joking!" Kyra laughed.

You didn't really find it funny. You were a ball of anxious energy as Steph drove you and the rest of 'Ausenal' to training. You and Kyra had, technically, signed for Arsenal on the same day but you had remained stuck in Australia after because you had to sort out some stuff about school so Kyra had already met everybody before you did.

"It's not funny," Steph said," She's scared."

"I'm not scared!" You denied it even though you were definitely scared and, had you not been sitting down, you would definitely be shaking in your shoes.

"You don't have to be scared," Caitlin said, finally looking up from her phone," Everyone's cool. If anything, they'll just complain about another Aussie joining them. We're taking over."

"And by complain," Steph said sternly," She means tease. No one's going to complain about you, munchkin."

"Munchkin!" Kyra giggled, pinching at your cheek as you tried to pull away.

The nickname had stuck ever since your call up to the national team when they went through a bout of injuries that meant that the scrawny nearly-sixteen year old had been deemed one of the next best alternatives and you had never been able to escape since.

Playing with, as Kyra called them, 'the big girls' had been your dream for years but now that you'd made it, you couldn't quite believe it and your shyness had come out in full force.

"Alright," Steph said as you all piled out," Boots?"

"Yeah."

"Socks?"

"Uh-huh."

"Schoolwork?"

"Yep."

"Good." She adjusted your coat and smoothed down the flyaway strands of your hair that were sticking up. "Okay. We're training until lunch and then we've got a two-hour break before the gym session. Do you know what you're doing during that?"

"My schoolwork."

"And, do you-"

"Come on, Steph," Caitlin said, slinging her arm over your shoulder," We've been through this like ten times. Yes, she'll do her homework. Yes, she'll make sure to socialise. Can we go now?"

Steph sighed. "Go on."

Caitlin began to steer you away.

"And make sure she fills up her bottle before training starts!"

The locker room was just as loud as your old locker room back at Perth Glory and it settled you a little bit as you ended up getting changed next to Caitlin, staring straight ahead at your cubby.

The other girls took their time so you were left just sitting on the bench and clicking the heels of your boots together as you waited. You didn't really know your way around so you just had to wait until one of the older girls finished getting ready and took you to the pitch.

"Hey. You're that Australian kid, right? God, I thought Kyra had a baby face."

You looked up and then immediately looked back down.

Jen Beattie was standing in front of you.

"Hi." Your own voice was barely a whisper, hardly even audible over all the noise in changing room.

She leaned a bit closer to you to fully hear and you went rigid. You didn't particularly like new people in your personal space without warning. Hell, it had taken nearly a month for Kyra to be allowed close enough to hug you, let alone pinch your cheek like she did earlier.

"You're not as loud as Kyra, are you?" She asked and it was clear that she was teasing but it still made you feel nervous.

You shook your head.

"She's an angel," Caitlin said," But then again, everybody's an angel when compared to Kyra."

"I'm not that bad!"

"Yeah, sure." Caitlin's arm swung over your shoulders, giving you a little squeeze. "But this munchkin is still an angel."

You kind of wanted the ground to swallow you up. Your cheeks felt hot as the mention of your nickname and you looked bashfully.

"Munchkin?" Jen laughed," I like it."

Caitlin laughed too before steering you out of the locker room onto the pitch. You were thankful that the drills were fairly rudimentary today but still hard enough that everyone was exhausted enough to not talk.

You glanced around as you drained your bottle, skirting out of the way quickly when Kyra approached with her still full bottle, already angling it to squirt towards you.

Usually, you had Mini to protect you when something like this happened but now you had to fend for yourself, darting around the outskirts of the group so Kyra couldn't change you.

You zipped past Lia Wälti and Leah Williamson, sliding past them as Kyra tackled you to the ground. She kept you pinned to the ground with her own weight as she unscrewed the top of the bottle.

You squeezed your eyes shut in preparation but no water came.

"Leah!" Kyra complained," Get off! It was just a joke!"

"It's her first day," Williamson lectured," Don't traumatise her so early. We want to keep her for years."

"Are you okay?" Lia helped you up, patting down your shirt to get the grass scraps off it.

"I'm okay." Just like in the locker room, your voice was barely above a whisper but she didn't seem to mind, just smiling at you.

"Good. I'm glad. Kyra usually isn't that mean, sorry."

"She's not mean." You felt compelled to defend Kyra. "She's just a bit silly sometimes. She doesn't mean harm."

"It's nice that you two are such good friends," Lia said. Somehow, she managed to squish you between her and Leah as you all headed in from training for lunch.

"Mini...er...I mean Katrina, she says that Kyra's got annoying little sister energy."

"Annoying little sister energy!" Leah laughed," Oh, that's gold! I like that!" She swung her arm over your shoulders. "I like you, kiddo."

A piece of nervousness lodged in your chest came loose and disappeared as Leah talked. She didn't seem to need your input much and you were more than happy with that.

Before you knew it, you were sat at a table next to Steph with a full plate and soft conversation washing over you. You still felt nervous around the other girls but you felt more settled than when you first arrived today, most of your antsy energy replaced with good old-fashioned shyness.

"You need to get started on that Chemistry lesson," Steph reminded you as she set you up with your laptop and some snacks," And tonight, you need to remember to call Mini to tell her about your first day."

You nodded, plugging in your headphones and clicking start on the video that was set up for you. You got a decent way through your worksheet before it started numbing your brain and you rolled up the foil of your snack into a little ball and rolled it across the table to Kyra.

She frowned at first before grinning, flicking it back at you. You ducked and grabbed it off the floor to return it. Kyra caught the next shot and you threw it back with enough force that, when you headed it back, it landed in her protein shake.

You both burst out laughing, attracting stares that had you instantly quieting and looking back down at your keyboard.

"Are you being a bad influence again, Kyra?" Kim asked.

"I'm not a bad influence!" Kyra said, picking the ball of foil out of her drink and throwing it back at you.

It was still covered in protein shake so you shrieked and dived off your chair to avoid it.

"She's meant to be studying," Kim continued as you picked yourself up off the floor.

"Give her a break," Caitlin said," Surely all that schoolwork can't be good for your brain."

"That's not how it works," Kim replied.

"Let the kid have a break," Katie inserted herself into the conversation easily and you kind of envied that a little bit," She's been studying for nearly an hour now. I, for one, am pretty sure that Steph said something about making sure she socialised too."

Kim looked like she was mentally groaning but she finally relented. "Fine," She said," But you're explaining all this to Steph."

"Please," Caitlin scoffed as she beckoned you over to sit with her and Katie," She'll be delighted that this munchkin is making friends."

You face was stained red. "You can't keep calling me that," You said to her," It's embarrassing."

"Sorry," Caitlin said, not looking very sorry at all," But with Alanna and Mackenzie not here, one of us has to keep up with embarrassing you."

"Leave her alone," Steph said as she came back into the room, your saving grace.

"She's right," Katie said," We certainly can't call her munchkin, that's her Aussie nickname." She grinned teasingly. "How does pipsqueak sound?"

#woso x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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cherienymphe · 11 months

Text

Borderline (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, jealousy, seemingly unrequited feelings, secret relationship, semi public sex, non canon ages, underage drinking

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @silkholland

summary: The three times you had sex with your best friend...and the one time you didn’t.

JJ’s hips pressed into yours, his bare chest brushing against your own with every thrust. His blond hair was damp from both water and sweat, not an unusual look for him, but seeing him from this angle? Yes, that was pretty unusual for you. You gasped when his cock hit a sensitive spot in you, clenching around him and pressing your fingers into his arm. The action made him hiss, and he leaned in to nip the skin of your chin with his teeth.

Having sex with your best friend in the back of your other friend’s van was not planned.

Ever.

You and JJ were as thick as thieves, and partners in crime were all you had ever been. Breaking into buildings together, jumping off of boats together, and even getting into fights together. If he couldn’t count on anyone to back up whatever stupid idea he’d concocted, JJ knew he could count on you. You were always happy to go along with whatever…except for this.

As he pressed a hand into your stomach, holding you down and in place to take his thrusts, you fought to remember how you’d gotten in this position in the first place. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to wrack your brain and think about what you’d been talking about only an hour ago. It was so hard to do with JJ pushing into you and making you lose your train of thought.

You’d been talking about some Pogue, some Pogue you’d been seeing and the way he’d practically begged you to take him back at the ice cream shop. He was nice enough and cute enough, but the relationship, if it could even be called that, hadn’t been going anywhere. JJ wasn’t supposed to be listening in, but he’d never done what he was supposed to a day in his life.

“That sounded awkward,” he’d said, glancing at you and taking his eyes off of the road. “Poor guy was basically offering his soul to get back together with you.”

You’d rolled your eyes, grumbling to yourself and annoyed with him for eavesdropping.

“You got the holy grail between those legs of yours or what?” he’d teased, poking your side with a chuckle and you’d slapped his hand away.

“Don’t be gross,” you’d complained. “Believe it or not, but I’m actually a great girlfriend, JJ. Sometimes people are sad to see me go.”

You hadn’t had the chance to hear his response because one of the front tires on the Twinkie blew, forcing JJ to pull off of the road and into the grass. Between his anger at discovering John B.’s lack of care to keep a spare tire and John B.’s anger at discovering JJ blew one, your ex had been the last thing on either of your minds then. At least, that was the case for you.

You were both sitting in the back of the van and waiting for John B. and Pope to show up with his dad’s truck and a tire when JJ brought it up again.

“Pervert comment aside, I was serious, you know.”

You’d turned to him, a questioning look in your eyes. Seeing that you had no idea what he was talking about, the blond had rolled his eyes, pushing his hair away from his face and trying to keep cool in this heat.

“Any guy you date always acts like it’s the end of the world when you break up with them,” he’d explained, and your mouth had fallen open in offense.

“That’s not true,” you’d scoffed. “I resent that.”

JJ had chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

“It’s so true. We talk about it all the time,” he’d laughed.

You’d straightened at that, frowning at him. We? Did he mean ‘we’ as in him and your friends sans you? That was news that you found hard to believe, and you told him, and JJ shook his head.

“No, we do,” he’d drawled, half laying down with his head against the inside of the van and one leg bent. “Not all the time obviously, but sometimes to just laugh at the lovesick fools you leave in the dust.”

“You make me sound like some kind of man-eater,” you’d mumbled. “…and I’m not. I just… I don’t know.”

You’d shrugged, not liking this conversation.

“When I’m not happy, I leave. I’m not one of those people to stay just to say I have a boyfriend or something. Sorry,” you’d pointedly said, thinking hard about what he’d told you.

It was then that JJ could tell you were genuinely a little bothered, and he’d sat up, hurrying to move closer.

“Hey, hey, no. It’s meant to be funny,” he’d assured you. “We don’t mean anything by it.”

You knew that. It still didn’t stop it from bothering you a little though, wondering if that was how other people viewed you since your own friends did.

“I know you don’t,” you’d sighed. “I’m being silly, I know, but now you’re just making me rethink my methods, I guess.”

JJ huffed, scooting closer to you until his shoulder brushed yours.

“It’s not your methods we’re laughing at, I promise,” he’d lightly said, bumping your shoulder with his. “We just think it’s funny how you seem to give these guys the best time of their lives that they’re always ready to beg for you back on their knees.”

You’d given him a look at that, and JJ wiggled his eyebrows.

“I’m not talking to you about that,” you’d chuckled. “Who do you think I am? Pope?”

“I’m just saying,” he’d dragged out. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept with any girl that had me down that bad.”

JJ was laughing to himself, and your smile fell a bit, eyeing him with a frown. You could feel it deepening the longer you stared at him, and you’d suddenly reared back a little.

“You sound almost curious,” you’d blurted out, a light laugh in your throat as you shook your head at him.

You knew that wasn’t true, but the thought had been funny, nonetheless. However, you hadn’t expected there to be any truth to that, let alone the actual truth.

“Maybe I am.”

JJ’s words had shocked you, making you freeze in place, and his even expression didn’t match your horrified frown, at all.

“Be serious,” you’d said after a while, feeling like you were in the midst of some elaborate joke.

Your best friend tilted his head at you, arms resting on his knees as he ran his gaze over your face.

“What makes you think I’m not?”

The lack of humor on JJ’s face had stumped you, and you blinked at him. For a moment, words escaped you, and the van felt entirely too small and entirely too quiet as you just stared at each other.

“JJ,” you’d slowly said, lightly hitting his arm. “Come on…”

He’d taken your hand, making your stomach drop, and your eyes widened as he fully turned to face you. There was a glint in his eye that you’d never seen before. At least, not directed at you.

“Come on what? I can’t be curious?” he wondered, voice dropping.

“No, you can’t,” you’d almost yelled, pulling your hand away and looking away in disbelief. “You’re my best friend. I bet you don’t wonder what John B. is like in bed.”

“I might! You don’t know that…”

You’d rolled your eyes at him, prepared to pretend this weird turn of events had never happened when you felt his fingers brushing your jaw. You had turned to face him in shock, eyes wide as he touched you with a gentleness that felt strange. JJ was your best friend, and his blue eyes were drinking you in in a way that felt suffocating.

“JJ…”

You could see him leaning in, and you hadn’t exactly done anything to stop it. In truth, you didn’t know why. JJ had never been anything but your best friend, never even tempted to think of him in that way. Finding out that wasn’t the case for him was shocking, sure, but not enough to keep you from pushing him away at the very least.

His lips brushing against yours had your heart skipping a beat, and for a few seconds, you didn’t kiss him back. You just sat there, letting him kiss you and getting the feel of his skin on yours in a way that was foreign. You’d blinked just as JJ deepened the kiss, clearly taking your lack of action as the okay, and you hadn’t been able to swallow down your gasp. When you hesitantly kissed him back, you’d felt JJ’s hand on the small of your back, the other fingering the strap of your top.

Everything after had been a mess of lips on lips, hands pulling at clothes, and finally skin on skin.

Your eyes flew open at a particularly hard thrust, JJ’s cock stretching you out so addictingly. Sweat clung to your skin, your clothes thrown somewhere in John B.’s van, and you couldn’t even find it in you to care about how hot it was. JJ’s hands were wrapped around your calves now, your feet pressed against his stomach as he slid into you over and over.

It was so hard to breathe for multiple reasons, but especially because you were having the best sex of your life and it was because of your best friend. The thought was enough to completely drag you out of the moment. It felt weird and good at the same time, and you couldn’t understand how that was. You couldn’t even find it in you to feel guilty over making a mess of your friend’s vehicle, feeling yourself dripping around JJ and smearing down your skin.

You’d actually almost forgotten that your friends were on the way with help and another tire. You’d almost forgotten they existed entirely until you heard JJ’s phone vibrating. You were on top of him, now, hands pressed into his shoulder and pushing yourself down onto his cock, fucking yourself onto him and chasing your high.

“They said they’re down the street,” he panted, one hand pressed into your waist while the other held his phone. “They’re close.”

As he said that, you could feel yourself getting close too, and your eyes rolled as you circled your hips.

“Fuck,” JJ breathed, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you were too preoccupied with coming.

When you finally did, you literally froze, lips falling open and a choked moan escaping just as you felt JJ’s hands tighten on you. Your nails were pressing into his skin, but if the way he deeply moaned was anything to go by, he didn’t seem to care. You could feel him stilling too, twitching inside of you, and the feel had you shuddering.

He was lazily moving your hips over his as you milked him, and you literally whined when you were forced to move off of him. Your back met the floor of the van, and you stared up at the ceiling, blinking in disbelief. You could faintly hear JJ hurrying to get dressed, but you couldn’t move.

You’d just had sex with your best friend…and it was great.

You felt yourself frowning, a myriad of emotions washing over you as you tried to process this. It didn’t seem real, and yet, the evidence was quite literally on you and in you. JJ called your name, and you realized he’d called it several times. You looked at him as he put your clothes in your hand, hurrying to help you sit up, and you felt like you were in a daze.

“Hey, hey,” he said, touching your face and making you look into his eyes. “We gotta get dressed, okay?”

He was right, and yet that still didn’t stop you from running your eyes over him, drinking him in. He both looked and didn’t look like your best friend, and it was an odd thought to wrap your head around. You couldn’t believe what you’d just done, and deciding that now was not the time to analyze your actions and the ramifications of them, you got dressed.

“Fuck, baby…”

JJ’s breathless voice in your ear only made you wetter, and you pushed back to meet his thrusts.

It had been weeks, almost three months actually, since the incident. That was what you liked to call it because what else could you possibly refer to it as? How else would you identify the day in which JJ had convinced you to sleep with him in the back of the Twinkie? What could you possibly call the day in which you realized that JJ’s feelings about you weren’t always so platonic, and that sometimes, just sometimes, he was actually very curious about what his best friend was like in bed?

You had thought that it would be weird, disastrous even. You had actually cried yourself to sleep that same night, so scared that you’d made a huge mistake and that it would ruin your friendship with JJ forever. You’d told yourself that you should’ve spoken up, been the voice of reason when you were both careless and clearly delirious from heat.

After all, some moments of pleasure were never worth the loss of a friendship.

However, when JJ had shown up at your door the next morning, dressed and looking like his normal self as he offered to drive you to John B.’s like he often did, you got the sense that maybe you’d overreacted. Nothing about his words, tone, or expression had even hinted at what had taken place the previous day, and you’d actually frowned.

Somewhat dazed, you had nodded with a small okay, telling him you needed to get dressed. You had given him a strange look when he came inside, flopping on your couch and scrolling through his phone like everything was normal. Like shit was sweet.

Shit wasn’t sweet.

You and your best friend had quite literally rocked the van, and he was pretending like it never happened.

“Um…JJ,” you’d said when you followed him outside.

He’d been in the process of climbing onto his bike, and he’d turned to look at you, face inquiring. You had actually scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Are you just…going to pretend like yesterday never happened or…?”

He’d blinked at your words, features softening some as he climbed off of his bike. You’d swallowed at his close proximity, kind of unsure of how to act around him, now. He looked the same as he always did, but it was so different, now. You’d held that blond hair as he kissed down your frame. You’d looked into those blue eyes as he’d pinned you between him and the floor of the van. You’d held onto those arms as you came around each other.

You didn’t know how to pretend like you hadn’t.

“I didn’t think you’d want it to ruin our friendship,” he’d finally said.

“I don’t,” you had spoken up, straightening. “That’s the last thing I want, but…I don’t know. You’re pretending like it didn’t happen. Aren’t we going to at least talk about it?”

“…and say what? That it was great? That you were great?” he’d moved closer, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “…because you were.”

You’d swallowed at that, glancing away and feeling heated.

“Look, I know that it wasn’t your idea of how to spend the afternoon, and I just feel a little bad.”

You’d frowned at his confession.

“JJ, I’m an adult. If I didn’t want to have sex with you, I could’ve said so,” you’d told him, shoulders sagging. “No…it definitely wasn’t my first choice of how to pass the time, but I don’t think I regret it. Not unless it’s going to make things weird…”

You were trying your hardest to prevent that from happening, and when JJ chuckled, you did too.

“We were friends, and we’re still friends. Just friends who had sex one afternoon in a hot van,” he’d said with a shrug.

The way he’d worded it had made you feel better, and you were relieved when he pulled you into a hug. After hugging him back, you’d happily climbed onto the back of his bike, writing the previous afternoon off as that weird day when you and JJ decided to have sex.

He was right, of course.

You and JJ were still the best of friends who just happened to fuck each other one time. Once you were around the rest of your friends, it was easy to relax and sink back into familiar dynamics. You were teasing each other and throwing things at each other and finishing each other’s sentences again in record time. While there’d been the stray thought or two that your friends would be able to tell what went down between you two, that had soon passed after about a week.

After a month, it really did seem like nothing even happened.

You couldn’t deny that it had crossed your mind on occasion. After all, it was hard to look at your best friend and ignore the fact that you’d had sex with him. It was usually a stray thought in passing, like a little reminder notification in your head, and sometimes it was accompanied by the afterthought that it was the best sex you’d had. That was still something you had a hard time grasping, but it wasn’t long before even that fact didn’t feel weird to you.

Nights at The Chateau and on boats had accumulated into literal months since that day. It was something that you really didn’t even think about, now. Not when JJ hugged you or when he pinched your side or even when he held you close with an arm around your neck. Why would you? Nothing about your friendship had changed, something you were beyond grateful for.

So, it was kind of a shock to you when JJ had cornered you against John B.’s fridge one evening.

You were getting something to drink, and you’d gasped when you felt a chin suddenly resting in the crook of your shoulder, a chest pressed to your back. He’d startled you more than anything, and JJ had laughed to himself at your reaction.

“Anything good in there?”

Your answer was on the tip of your tongue when you felt his hand on your waist, fingers kneading into your skin where your shirt had ridden up. You’d frowned to yourself, stomach twisting a bit before slowly pushing his hand away.

“Just the usual,” you’d dragged out, slipping from between him and the fridge.

You were making your way past him when he reached out, a finger hooking in your belt loop as he gently pulled you back. You’d given him an odd look as he pulled you closer, a nervous chuckle escaping. His blue eyes were fixated on you, and he’d pulled his lip between his teeth as your frown deepened.

“JJ…what are you doing?” you’d slowly asked, worriedly eyeing him.

Your question had made him pause, pressing his lips together as he stared at you. You’d watched him blink, his face pinching together just a tad before he’d let you go. If you had known better, you would’ve noted how reluctant he’d seemed to do so. The air had felt so weird as you studied him, and just like that, he’d chuckled and broke the spell.

You had watched him scratch the back of his head.

“I don’t know,” he’d confessed, shaking his head before brushing past you, throwing a small sorry over his shoulder.

That had been days ago, and as much as the interaction had concerned you, you’d forced yourself to let it go. You’d been glad you did because in the days that followed, it was like it’d never even happened…

…but then JJ had driven you home...and he’d gotten off of his bike with you, and before you’d been able to thank him…he’d kissed you.

So shocked by it, you had stumbled back, looking at him with wide eyes. It was hard to place the look on his face, like he was confused by his actions just as much as you were, but it didn’t stop him from reaching out and gently taking your arm.

“JJ, what-?”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” he’d softly mumbled, moving closer as he pulled you closer. “I don’t know.”

He kept repeating that as he leaned in, kissing you again, and his breath was shaky as he did. You’d placed your hand on his chest, and he reached up, holding it there as he moved his mouth against yours. Before, you’d told yourself you should’ve been the voice of reason, recalling how scared you’d been that night that your friendship as you knew it was over. You didn’t want a repeat of that, nor did you want that to come true, and so you’d pulled back.

“JJ, we can’t-.”

“Why?” he’d breathed, licking his lips. “…because we’re friends?”

“Yes,” you’d slowly told him. “…and I want to stay friends.”

The desperation in his gaze threw you.

“We did it before, and we’re still friends…”

You’d faltered at that, looking away when JJ had forced you to look back at him. One of his hands slid down to your waist, trailing over your back and side, and you shuddered at the feel. You could hear how uneven his breathing was.

“I…haven’t really stopped thinking about that day,” he confessed, making your heart skip a beat.

“What? Y-you said…”

“I know what I said,” he blurted out. “I know, but…”

JJ leaned in, nipping at your bottom lip before kissing you again.

“I want you so bad,” he breathed against your lips. “You get me so hard, and you don’t even know it.”

All of this was overwhelming news to you, and when JJ deepened the kiss, you could feel yourself traveling back to that afternoon in the Twinkie. The voice of reason in your head was fighting against the heated feeling that was slowly consuming you. You were thinking of what his skin had felt like on yours, what his hands had felt like on you, and what he’d felt like inside of you.

This wasn’t supposed to happen again.

Never mind the fact that you and JJ were friends, but you weren’t this kind of girl. Casual sex was never and had never been your thing. You liked relationships, always had. You liked having boyfriends, and getting flowers and gifts, and having sex with someone you could call yours. You’d written that afternoon off as the one wild thing you’d do for the next three years.

It wasn’t supposed to happen again.

…and yet, you found yourself leaning on JJ’s bike, one leg raised with your knee resting on the seat as he pushed into you from behind. Your shorts were around one ankle, your underwear long ripped off, and JJ’s hands were curled into your hips as he dipped his cock into you.

You couldn’t even stop yourself from gasping and moaning, trembling at the feeling of him fucking you from this angle. The bike shook from his movements, and one of his hands moved to hold it steady. His lips grazed your ear, and despite the fact that he was literally inside of you, you were still supposed to be just friends, but the words he whispered didn’t indicate that, at all.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, cursing when he sank into you again. “I’ve been thinking about this all week, you know that?”

You suddenly thought about that day at John B.’s, JJ’s weird behavior, and you frowned through the haze.

“Just wanted to feel you wrapped around me…choking me…sucking me dry…”

A high-pitched gasp escaped your lips, and you struggled to stay upright. The sound of skin slapping against skin could be heard in your yard, and you prayed to whoever was listening that your neighbors didn’t decide to get curious today of all days.

JJ’s free hand traveled along your frame. Kneading your waist, squeezing your breast, curling around your throat. It was too much, and to your surprise, you could feel yourself coming. If JJ was shocked too, he didn’t show it, fucking you through it and turning you into a babbling mess. You were so wet, the sound of it meeting your ears every time JJ pushed his cock into you, completely sheathing himself inside of your walls, determined to find his release there.

You were meeting him thrust for thrust, determined to come again. You felt like a woman possessed, fucking yourself onto him and squeezing his cock. You didn’t even care that you were fucking your best friend again, only concerned with wanting to feel him come inside of you. The aftermath was something you couldn’t focus on, right now, and you knew you’d come to regret that line of thinking. When JJ came, he came before you this time, spilling into you and pushing into you so hard it jostled his bike.

The feel of him coating your walls sent you over the edge, squeezing him so tight that he cursed over and over, hand tightening on your neck as you struggled to breathe. You saw stars, and unlike last time, there was no rush to get dressed. JJ remained inside of you for a while, just holding himself there and basking in the aftermath of what you just did…again.

When he finally did pull out, you weren’t as dazed this time.

Instead, you frowned.

You were still shaking as you pulled up your shorts, a million thoughts running through your head. What did this mean? What were you? Were you friends who just happened to have sex twice…or did JJ intend for this to be a regular thing? You couldn’t stomach the latter, knowing the kind of girl you were and hating yourself for going against what you knew you were comfortable with.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

One time could be a mistake, a lapse of judgement or just an afternoon of fun, never to be repeated. Twice? Twice was a choice on both your parts. JJ for making the move again, and you for allowing it. You stepped away from him when you were fully dressed, and you didn’t know what to say. You could still feel him in you, both figuratively and literally, cringing at the way he dripped out of you and into your shorts.

He was saying something about hanging out at Sarah’s place tomorrow, but you couldn’t really focus on it. You were too in your own head, but JJ didn’t seem to notice, leaning over to place a brief kiss to your lips before starting his bike. You watched him drive away, and you found yourself feeling incredibly…alone.

You sipped on your drink with a frown, heart clenching at the sight before you. The sound of partygoers would’ve normally been music to your ears, but all you wanted in this moment was some time with your own thoughts. That and to be far away from JJ Maybank.

Realizing your cup was now empty, you forced yourself to look away from the sight before you. You turned your back on blond and blonder, stumbling across the beach to get another drink. You almost tripped over your own feet and probably would have if it weren’t for Kie.

“Woah, hey! You okay…?”

She steadied you, and when you glanced up, the concern in her eyes was evident. You’d never been much of a drinker, and especially not to the point of inebriation, but you weren’t exactly yourself. You hadn’t felt like yourself for a while, now.

“I’m fine,” you told her, but it was a lie.

You weren’t fine.

You were in love with your best friend…and it was all his fault.

JJ had always been attractive. Even if that had never meant anything of consequence to you, you could still admit it. He was funny, charismatic, kind, and way too forgiving for his own good. He was always the life of the party, and he’d never failed to make you smile. He’d always been that way, so none of that was enough to make you fall for the guy, but then he had to go and start having sex with you.

Granted, it only happened twice, but twice was enough.

You weren’t a casual girl. You didn’t even know how to go about being a casual girl, and now that he’d added sex to your dynamic, it was hard to keep seeing him as your same best friend. It was hard not to stare, not to linger on the way his laugh traveled through the air or the way he shook his hair out of his face when it got wet. You’d found yourself drinking him in on more than one occasion when he was fixing his bike, swallowing at the sight of his stomach when he used his shirt to wipe his face.

In the months since the last time you’d had sex, it had snuck up on you.

You felt more excited to see him more than any of your other friends. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, and when you weren’t with him, you’d absentmindedly wonder what he was doing…and who he was doing it with. The thought always made your stomach turn, and you’d get the feeling like you’d be sick.

Like now, for example.

You poured yourself another drink, frowning at how close he and some girl were standing. They hadn’t stopped smiling since they met, and you wondered to yourself just what was so damn funny. You blinked back tears as you downed the drink in seconds, quickly getting another. You ignored Kie’s voice as you disappeared into the crowd, wanting to be as far away from JJ as possible.

You felt so stupid…because you knew this would happen.

You knew yourself, and you knew this would happen, but no. You just had to listen to JJ and let him in your head and convince you that everything would remain the same. Now, here you were, months later and dreaming about and sulking over your best friend. Every time he so much as touched you these days, it was almost enough to do you in. You were torn between feeling grateful you hadn’t had sex with him again since that evening in your yard or feeling sad that you hadn’t.

“Woah, hey, where…where are you going?” John B. wondered as you moved past him and Sarah.

“Home,” was all you said.

You could hear footsteps behind you, and you grumbled when the brunette stopped you.

“Like this? Y/N, you’re so drunk,” Sarah said from beside him, reaching for your drink.

You gave her a look as you held it out of reach, daring her to try and take it. She threw John B. a pleading look, and he sighed.

“It’s getting late,” he said. “Why don’t we all just call it a night, and you can crash at my place…”

You both loved and hated the sound of that, but your desire to collapse and cry yourself to sleep won. You reluctantly nodded, allowing Sarah to take your hand as John B. disappeared behind you. You weren’t in a talkative mood, and you were so glad that Sarah respected that. She was helping you into the van when you heard the last voice you wanted to hear.

“Why did you let her drink that much?”

“I’m not a child,” you answered before John B. could.

Everyone seemed shocked at your tone, but you couldn’t find it in you to care, opting to lie down. You closed your eyes, ignoring everyone until you felt a jacket being placed on you. The smell of it was familiar, and you didn’t even open your eyes as you shook it off.

“Y/N, it’s like 60 degrees-.”

“Why are you even here?” you wondered, opening your eyes and fixing your gaze on JJ. “What happened to your girl of the night?”

The blond didn’t respond right away, looking at you strangely, and for a moment, you almost thought he could see right through you. It made your heart skip a beat, and he slowly shook his head.

“That wasn’t…that wasn’t anything. Besides, even if it was, you’re drunk,” he said, like you were more important or something.

You rolled your eyes at that, closing them and forcing back tears.

This wasn’t like you. At all. You didn’t cry over guys and get so drunk you could barely stand and snap at your friends. JJ was turning you into someone you didn’t recognize, and you hated it. A year ago, your friendship was as strong as it could’ve been, and now…now you could barely look at him. Before, you wouldn’t have even given a second glance to JJ and some girl, but now the thought was almost enough to send you spiraling.

Why did JJ even have sex with you in the first place?

Everything was fine.

When you blinked, you took in the change of scenery, and it wasn’t hard to guess that you’d fallen asleep somewhere along the way. You were in a familiar living room, and you didn’t need to sit up to know you were on a familiar couch. How you got there was a mystery, and you could faintly hear the voices of your friends from down by the water.

You wouldn’t be joining them, preferring to isolate yourself, and the thought made your eyes water. This thing with JJ was even affecting your other friendships, and you sniffed, sitting up. Your mouth felt so dry, and you were just about to journey to find some water when you were startled.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong with you?”

You jumped at the familiar voice, and you pressed your hand to your chest. You hadn’t even noticed JJ to your left, lounging in the dark like some creeper. You didn’t answer him, simply huffing and attempting to stand. You probably would’ve collapsed if it weren’t for the blond.

“Nothing is wrong-.”

“I don’t think I can ever remember a time when you were drunk…especially this drunk.”

“Why do you care?” you loudly wondered.

You didn’t miss the frown that covered his features, and you knew you were being a bitch. JJ was your best friend…of course he cared, but you were so lovesick and frustrated and drunk and angry that you weren’t thinking straight. Sleeping with JJ had changed too much for you because now you wanted him to care about you the same way you cared about him…and because he didn’t…sometimes it felt like he didn’t care, at all.

…and that wasn’t true.

“Of course, I care,” he softly said, forcing you to sit down.

He sat down with you.

“You’re my best friend…”

Those words had you closing your eyes, and you couldn’t stop your head from dropping.

“Hey…” you felt his hands on you. “What’s wrong?”

You could only shake your head, and you felt his hands on your face, now.

“JJ…”

You always told each other everything, but your relationship with him was so different, now, and you genuinely didn’t know how he’d react if you told him the truth. You didn’t think you could take it if he got that look on his face, the one where he looked both sheepish and in pain all at once, before telling you he didn’t feel the same. You knew it was true, but you couldn’t handle it if he told you outright he’d only wanted you for sex.

In your drunken state, you couldn’t handle that…so you kissed him instead.

If JJ was surprised, you couldn’t tell. Especially not with the way his hands tightened on your face. The presence of your friends right outside and down by the water was so far from your mind. Your drunken brain could only focus on JJ’s hands running down your sides and pulling at your dress. He seemed just as eager to be inside of you as you were to feel him there. You let out a sharp moan when his fingers brushed over you, and the blond shushed you.

“You have to be quiet,” he whispered, fumbling to release himself.

You pulled on his shirt as you laid down, pulling him on top of you, and you shuddered when you felt the tip of him poking against you. He was so hard already, and your heart clenched as you wondered if that was for you or leftover from her. JJ’s lips were hungry against yours as he reached down to push your panties to the side.

Your mouth parted into an O shape against his lips as he slowly pushed into you. It had been months since he’d stretched you out this good, and you almost couldn’t contain yourself. When he was fully inside, hips firmly pressed to yours, he held himself there for a while. It was as if he was basking in something he’d missed too, and you were too impatient, lifting your hips against his and letting out a small whine.

At that, JJ pressed his hand to your mouth before pulling his hips back. Only the tip of him remained inside of you before he surged forward, pushing into you with a force that made your eyes roll. Your fingers tightened in his shirt, and you breathed through your nose.

Every push of his cock had you shuddering and clenching around him, missing this and him so much. You felt so full when JJ was fucking you, more than you had with any of your previous boyfriends and the thought had you faltering.

JJ wasn’t your boyfriend.

He never would be, and as he fucked you against John B.’s couch, a few tears escaped. You wanted him to be, but this was just sex. That had been established since the beginning, and it was your fault for giving into something you knew you weren’t cut out for.

You felt like you couldn’t get close enough to JJ, wrapping your legs around him and lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. His fingers were digging into you and holding you so tight there was no doubt they’d bruise. His face was in the crook of your neck as he curved his hips into yours, breathing labored as he stuffed you full of his cock.

When he lifted his head, he removed his hand, kissing you on the lips before his lips traveled to your cheek and then jaw and then neck. He was kissing you and tasting you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from shuddering at the words that escaped his lips.

“You feel just like heaven,” he breathed. “You always do.”

You softly moaned his name, wrapping your arms around him and holding onto him.

“Always keep this pretty pussy nice and tight just for me,” he mumbled. “…always fit me so perfectly.”

He was murmuring incoherently, fucking you and kissing you and biting you. You could hear the squelch of him plunging into you, gasping as he hit something inside of you that made your back arch and toes curl. You were so drunk and he felt so good and you were on cloud 9.

“JJ…” you breathed. “I have… I have to tell…”

You trailed off, sinking your teeth into your lip to swallow down a moan. You were shaking beneath him, legs falling from around him, now as you let him fuck you. You moved your hand, reaching under his shirt too run your fingers across his torso.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, head thrown back as he grinded against you. “JJ, I have to tell you something.”

He cursed, looking down to where he disappeared into you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, slowly pushing into you. “You can tell me tomorrow.”

You wanted to tell him, now, but you could feel yourself hurdling towards the edge, and your drunken brain was too focused on trying to remain quiet. JJ’s hand covered your mouth again as he felt you getting close, his face buried into your neck as he became determined to make you come.

You kept your eyes on your drink, the same drink you’d had for the better part of an hour. Ever since that night a few weeks ago, you’d been kind of scared of alcohol, and ever since that night days ago, you’d been scared of JJ. Not genuinely, of course, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be around him and act the same around him.

You still remembered the feel of his hand on your waist in the water. Everyone else had gone inside, oblivious to your pleading gaze as the last thing you wanted was to be alone with JJ. Not because you were afraid you’d have sex with him again, but because of the opposite.

Waking up alone and still in your clothes from the previous night on John B.’s couch hadn’t made you feel as worse as knowing that you’d had sex with JJ again, and this time, you were the one to initiate it. The level of disappointment you’d felt had been astronomical, and you’d wanted to cry for being so weak and pathetic and cowardly.

You’d had sex because it was easier than telling him you were in love with him.

It was easier than facing rejection.

You’d officially hit rock bottom, and it was that morning that you’d decided something had to give. You’d gone straight home to shower, and you’d developed some resolve by the time you got out, telling yourself that this couldn’t go on like this forever.

Seeing JJ after that third night had definitely felt like a punch to the gut, but you told yourself you needed to get over this. He acted the same as he always had, you guessed, and you swallowed down any feelings that arose when he hugged you or grabbed you. You reminded yourself that once upon a time, you’d felt nothing at all at his touch, and that it needed to be that way again.

You’d been mentally preparing yourself to have the inevitable talk whenever that came up again.

You hadn’t expected to have it so soon.

Before, where there’d been literal months in between, this time, it was only mere weeks. His hand on your waist in the water after everyone else had gone inside had startled you, and while the sight of his wolfish grin did elicit butterflies, it also made your stomach churn in a negative way too. It was hard to miss the slight from on JJ’s face when you’d pulled away.

You’d been able to hear him following you to the edge and out of the water.

“What’s wrong?” he’d wondered, and you’d swallowed, slightly miffed because you thought you’d had more time.

JJ had never wanted to have sex again so soon, and you didn’t want to linger on what that could mean. It was just sex to him, anyway, and you didn’t doubt that he’d be disappointed, but you knew he’d get over it. For the sake of your friendship, you both needed to get over it.

“I don’t really want to do that anymore, JJ,” you’d slowly murmured, grabbing your towel.

The silence that met you was loud, and when you looked over, you confirmed that he was deeply frowning at you. It was hard to place the look on his face, but the surprise was easy enough to spot, and you wrapped your towel around you as he came near. Water dripped from his blond hair and down his face and onto his chest.

“I don’t… I don’t get it,” he lightly chuckled, but it lacked humor. “I thought everything was fine. Did I do something-?”

“No,” you had assured him, shaking your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, trust me.”

You’d watched him run his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face as he studied you. His blue eyes hadn’t looked so warm then, and he’d scoffed.

“The old ‘it’s not you it’s me’ thing, huh,” he’d drawled, rolling his eyes towards the sky. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are…”

“Then why aren’t you being honest?”

“I am,” you’d firmly told him. “I don’t want that anymore, JJ.”

You’d shrugged, glancing away.

“It was fun…sure, but we knew it couldn’t last and…”

“That’s the best you’ve got?” he’d wondered, tilting his head. “It couldn’t last so might as well end it, now, right?”

If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve said that he was angry, and his reaction confused you. You’d shaken your head at him, holding your towel around him.

“Why does it matter? It’s just sex to you, right?”

JJ had blinked at that, like he’d forgotten that, and you’d pulled your lip between your teeth. The whole ordeal was hard enough, and you hadn’t understood why JJ was making it harder. When he hadn’t said anything more, only nodding, you’d finally decided to join your friends inside.

That had been days ago, and your hopes that things would go back to normal had been squashed when JJ had been giving you the equivalent of the cold shoulder ever since. He wasn’t cruel, of course, and it certainly wasn’t noticeable by anyone else…but you knew.

You knew it in the way he didn’t direct his jokes towards you or in the way he didn’t hug you anymore or how he didn’t even offer to drive you home. It was little changes that completely flipped what you knew of your friendship, and it had taken you by surprise.

…because JJ was mad at you.

…and you didn’t know why.

Your friendship had wound up in the one place you hadn’t wanted it to be, and more than you ever had before, you desperately wished you had never slept with him in the first place. Here you were, at a party and fighting with your best friend, only you couldn’t understand why. To add insult to injury, you had to leave your other friends in the dark about it. You couldn’t even imagine taking it from the top with them, dreading to hear Pope go on a whole ‘I told you so’ rant about Pogue on Pogue macking.

Feeling utterly alone and filled with regret, you decided to just cut your losses and go home.

You wondered if JJ took the whole thing personally, like it was specifically him you were rejecting and not the casual sex of it all. Surely, he had to understand that this whole thing should’ve never started to begin with. Had things been so peachy from his side? Had he had none of these thoughts, none of these doubts about what you were doing? At all? You found it hard to believe, and then you remembered Kie saying something once about men being simple creatures.

Maybe JJ really had thought that everything was perfect, and why wouldn’t he? He could sleep around with whoever he wanted and still turn around and get it from you too. From his point of view, he was probably on top of the world.

You were halfway to your house when you heard it, the sound of a bike, and you really didn’t think much of it until it started to slow. Looking over, the last person you expected to pull up beside you was JJ, and you paused. You eyed him as he stopped, and you watched his shoulders heave with a heavy sigh.

“Hop on,” he said.

You opened your mouth to say something when he continued.

“It’s late and…you shouldn’t be walking home…”

He wouldn’t look at you, and you found his behavior so odd. Still, as weird as he was being, he was right. It was late, and no matter how much of a weird place your friendship was in, you weren’t going to turn down his offer to take you home.

You swallowed at the feel of wrapping your arms around him. It reminded you of both the simpler times of your friendship, and the more complicated where your feelings for him were literally making you miserable. When he parked at your house, you were surprised to see him getting off the bike too, and you eyed him, watching him sigh again before looking away with a taut jaw.

“Can I come in?”

You blinked, taken aback, but unable to refuse.

“Of course,” you softly told him.

You had a feeling this conversation wouldn’t be light, and you wondered if you should play pretend at first and offer something to eat or if you should just tell him to get right to it. You turned to face him just as he locked the door, and you blinked at him.

JJ looked…troubled as he leaned against the door, just frowning at you.

“I don’t…I don’t want to break it off…”

That admission didn’t really shock you, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I gathered as much,” you mumbled, recalling his reaction that day.

“I thought things were good,” he quietly said.

“For you, maybe,” you scoffed. “Not for me…”

You crossed your arms over your chest, plopping down onto your couch.

“So, that’s it,” he said it more like a statement than a question. “Just like that you decide its over.”

You swallowed down the words you really wanted to say, confessing to him how you felt, but you knew it would only hurt you. You reached up, rubbing your temples as you stood. JJ was still leaning against the door, staring you down, and you shook your head.

“I don’t understand this, JJ,” you whispered. “You can and do sleep with whoever you want. Why does it matter that I don’t want that to be me anymore?”

“…because the thought of you sleeping with anyone else makes me sick,” he sneered, shocking you.

The vitriol and malice in his tone had your eyes widening, and before your eyes, it was like a mask dropped, revealing the angry guy underneath. You scoffed, glancing away with a shake of your head.

“We’re not together, JJ,” you slowly started. “…and besides you don’t have to worry about that anytime soon.”

Only God knew how long it would take you to get over your best friend, but as he approached you, you wondered if that day would come sooner rather than later. You gasped at the way he grabbed your arm, and again, there was that troubled look in JJ’s eyes, like his own actions shocked you just as much as they shocked him.

“I didn’t…”

His voice was quiet, and he trailed off, releasing a shaky breath through his nose as he stared at you. You watched his blue eyes rake over you, drinking you in and studying everything about you. You watched his face fall some, and he stepped closer. His hold on you kept you from taking one back.

“I thought I could sleep with you and that would be it,” he started, huffing to himself. “I didn’t know I’d be thinking about you almost every day since…fighting the urge to fuck you in front of all out friends…”

Your eyes widened.

“I didn’t think I’d drive myself crazy thinking about the day you finally got another boyfriend, and you wouldn’t…you wouldn’t be mine anymore.”

You were at a loss for words, somehow both hearing what you wanted and what you didn’t.

“I tried to just let it go, fight it, but I couldn’t…and I…I had to have you again, and I tried to fight it again, and then you…you kissed me this time,” he said through clenched teeth. “You wanted me and then you just broke it off.”

You furiously blinked, trying to gather your thoughts, but JJ kept talking.

“I wanted to break something. I wanted to break someone’s neck,” he spat, moving closer. “Now, that I’ve had you… I don’t think I can just let you go.”

Both of his hands were on your arms, now, and you pressed your hands to his chest.

“JJ, wait-.”

He swallowed your words, kissing you, and any fight against him was futile. Your mind was trying to make sense of this turn of events. There wasn’t anything to be happy about because you didn’t know if JJ actually felt something for you, or if this was pure possessiveness. Ownership. You wanted to talk about this, but the way he ignored your protests and resistance had you rethinking everything.

JJ wouldn’t let you get a word in, keeping his lips on yours, and you yelped into his mouth when he tore at your shirt. You sucked in air when you turned your head away, pushing against him.

“JJ, stop-! What are you…?”

You gasped when he shoved you onto the couch, and you felt like you were having an out of body experience. The very same best friend that you loved was pinning you beneath him, pulling your skirt down because you dared to put a stop to whatever this casual fling was.

Any thoughts entertaining the revelation that maybe he actually felt the same way this whole time was gone. This wasn’t love. This was about a guy feeling like you owed him something, owed him a part of you, and you yelped in pain when his teeth sank into your chest.

“JJ, stop,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against his face.

“Why? Huh?” he wondered, hovering over you and holding you down.

His blond hair hung into his face, and his blue eyes were hard, staring you down like you’d done something wrong.

“So things can go back to the way they were before we slept together? If I say I don’t want that then what?”

You sniffed, trying to close your legs, but it didn’t prevent him from pushing into you, stretching you out in a way that was so familiar. You shuddered at the feel, and JJ pressed his tongue to the inside of his lip, watching himself slowly disappear into you.

“You don’t have half a clue what you do to me,” he murmured, leaning down and pinning you beneath him. “You don’t even get how you’ve ruined me for anybody else.”

He snapped his hips against yours, a harsh grunt leaving him, and you gasped. One of his hands had your wrists pinned to your stomach, the other forearm was pressed into the couch beside your head, holding himself up so that he could alternate between looking at your face and looking down to where you two connected.

“I…I’m sorry,” he whispered, brushing his lips over yours. “I’m sorry, I really am, but I can’t… I can’t let you go.”

You turned your head away.

“I can’t let you end this.”

Your face crumbled at that, wondering if you’d just told him how you felt, if it would have ever come to this. Then again, it was better to know what JJ was really like, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it better to know that he wasn’t the sweet and caring guy you always thought he was? Surely, it had to be better to know that he was capable of anything under the right circumstances too.

That was what you told yourself, but as he plunged into you, sliding his cock into your now slick walls, you almost wished you’d remained in blissful ignorance. As you shuddered beneath him, you wondered if this was where you would’ve wound up eventually even if you had refused him that day in the van.

“Fuck,” he cursed, slowly thrusting into you and forcing a whine to climb out of your throat. “Just imagine…”

He pushed into you to the hilt, holding himself there and reaching up to brush his fingers along your jaw.

“If you had never shown me what I was missing.”

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