#but first time for everything right right

[miguelhugger2099]

Just a silly little request👉👈

Do u think fem!reader likes to wear crop top with no bra and Miguel's boxer. You two are just flirting and teasing each other until Miguel decided to toss the remote to reader for movie night and reflex, she tries to catch it reveal her tits and Miguel just "😳... Nice catch..." And smut if u want. Having his hands speezing them I'm going insane 😭😭

Just One Touch

a/n: this ask has been in my inbox for so long and ur not gonna believe what got me out of my month long stump to write this. everyone thank sir-mix-a-lot's song "ride" it possessed me and gave me energy. excuse the crappy writing, i'm still lowk having writers block so it's not my greatest work. please enjoy and as alwayssss i can rewrite this if you'd like <3 Art: mar_mar0u on instagram ! Unedited btw, plz dont crucify me ill die :(

It wasn’t unusual for you and Miguel to wind down after the sun had set. Movie night was a must, whether it was cheesy romcoms for you to sob to, horror movies for Miguel to be annoyed at, or even action movies to make fun of–as long as it was together. Still, Miguel teased you by holding the remote up above his head and out of your reach. He grins with one hand on his hip and watches you reach up with no progress in sight. “Give it!” You laugh, trying to keep your anger believable. “No, first you take my clothes and I know you’re gonna pick one of those creepy knock off animated movies.” He chuckles and he walks off. Due to the size difference, every step of his was three of yours–practically chasing after him. “Put respect on Over the Hedge’s name! It’s not even a knock off!” Miguel plops on the couch on one side with a huff of laughter. “Fine, fine. Here–take it!” He throws the remote above your head and you pause and stumble back.

You reach high up to grab the remote. “You asshole!” You laugh. The remote hits your fingertips and bounces a bit farther back. Your crop top rides and flows up as you lean back onto one foot to finally grasp the device in your hand.

Miguel could feel everything happen in slow motion. The small glimpse of your underboob before your nipples finally come into view. The grin on Miguel’s face slowly drops and he could feel drool slipping from his lips. He watched your boobs bounce, the roundness of your flesh and perky buds making his cheeks go red. He can’t help the disappointment in his face when your arms fall back down, shirt hiding the glorious view of your tits.

“Caught it!” You smirk at him triumphantly. His eyes continue to glance at your tits.  “Yeah, uh…” He gulps. “Nice catch.” He adjusts his shorts, hoping his growing bulge wasn’t too apparent.

You don’t notice, too engrossed in your victory and making Miguel speechless. So, you crawl in his lap, Miguel’s hands suspended in mid-air as you nestle yourself in his arms. You feel his muscles surround you like a warm comfortable blanket, leaning your back on his firm chest while you click the buttons to turn on the TV.

“So what are we picking this time?” You ask, flipping through random trailers to find what you’re looking for.

“Huh? Oh, uh, anything’s fine.” Miguel shrugs half-heartedly. He’s too focused looking down at your crop top. Slowly and gingerly, his fingers caress your stomach–light and feathery as if trying to be discreet.

“Yeah sure, whatever. Don’t complain if you don’t like it.” You laugh softly, clicking on a random movie that looked good enough.

“Mhm.” Miguel mumbles, not even hiding his disinterest in a damn movie right now. While your eyes are on the opening scene on the TV, Miguel’s eyebrows scrunch together, his lips into a tight line as he resists his urges.

He can’t help it though. He gets handsy, Miguel carefully caressing your stomach. You barely notice it since the two of you always get snuggled up like this.

You only notice when he hikes higher up, his hips shifting slightly while his fingers run up and down the valley of your tits. You smack his arm around your waist with the remote.

“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to sound annoyed but the smile seeps through your tone.

“Nuthin’” He murmurs. Miguel then feels the curve of your breast, his fingers itching for a squeeze.

“We’re supposed to be bonding.” You move to turn your head up at him. You try to meet his eyes but he stays glued downwards to your chest.

“We are.” Miguel insists, his lips slightly parted. His thumb swipes across your nipple and you gasp, feeling your cheeks burn. He can feel the nub perk up and his tongue darts out to lick his lips, biting his bottom lip to hide the satisfied smile on his face.

Miguel takes his chances, bending down to kiss along your neck, tugging you closer to him and making you melt. His body moves against yours and your eyes flutter shut. His mouth gently sucks and licks your skin and you shiver. Miguel grabs your left tit, the plump flesh squeezed in his palm. His fingers flick your nipple, circling around before gently twisting it.

You back arches and you moan. “Ah–fuck, Miguel!” You hissed, a burning heat crawling up your neck. Your hand lifts up to curl in his hair while he attacks your neck, his other hand running down to his boxers you were wearing. He slips his fingers in the front hole of the boxers, using his index and middle fingers to spread your folds apart. You feel him nip your neck with a smile as he smears your slick around your clit.

He then uses both of his hands to lift your shirt up and over your head. Your breasts are now out in the open, the cool air hitting your chest and making your nipples hard. You barely get a word out, Miguel already cupping your boobs and squeezes them. Your hips buck back to grind on his crotch, eyes closing as he plays with you. Miguel used his fingers to tease your nipples simultaneously, flicking and tweaking them. He lifts them up and watches them fall down before squeezing them again. Your pussy is soaking through his boxers, aching for more stimulation that’s making you feel empty.

His eyes are dark watching his own hands play with your chest, the memory of the bounce of your tits as you caught the remote high in the air. He wanted to see that again.

Miguel could feel his cock swell and twitch along with each bounce of your breasts. You have your body arching, hands behind you and holding onto his thighs. He plays with your tits switching with his hands or his mouth–but if you asked him, he preferred sucking on them. So that’s where he was now, lips attached to your right nipple and his right hand playing with your left. You slammed down on his cock, whining since you barely felt him thrust up. But in all honesty, Miguel could do this forever with your tits in his mouth and his cock buried in your cunt. While his tongue sucked and lipped your nipple, he knew if he didn’t focus, he’d cum instantly. He looks up at you after playfully biting down on your nub, your squeaks making his dick twitch against your walls. You look down with glossy eyes, hips stuttering and pussy throbbing when you see him smirk up at you with your boob in his mouth. One of his hands that was on your waist comes up to your back to keep your body arched. Miguel scrunches his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed while he sucks on your nipple, his hips jerking and balls slapping against your ass. You wail with each thrust, falling forward and holding onto the backrest making your boobs squish in his face. Miguel groans as he lets you fall on top of him, hands falling down to your ass as you grind on him. His cock slips in and out of your wet cunt with a wet squelch. It makes you bite your lip with a loud whimper, the action making your man under you tug on your nipple with his teeth. He’s obsessed with you, Miguel pulling away just enough to make your tits swing in his face. He glances up at your pleasure filled face, sweat glistening down your face and body while you panted and whined. He’s entranced, eyes falling down to follow the way your boobs bounce as he fucks up into you. Miguel trusts you to keep fucking yourself on his while his hands leave your ass to come up and cup and squeeze both your breasts. He kneads them and watches your mouth drop open to moan. Your head hangs and your foreheads almost touch. Miguel doesn’t need to tell you a damn thing, his lips parted while he looks at yours. You lean down to kiss him, Miguel immediately slipping his tongue past your defenses with a low groan. He continues groping you, his hips smacking up with your thrusting and he can feel himself about to cum. He can tell you’re about to too by the way your pussy spasms wildly, sucking him in deeper and soaking him in your slick.

So he hammers into you, grunting as he puts all his strength in making you cream. Your eyes roll back, mouth separating from his to dig your nails into his shoulders and roll your hips. You can barely get a word out, garbled moans of his name escaping you while your body twitches, ecstasy flowing through from top to bottom. Miguel watches your chest heave as you catch your breath, your juices dripping out of your a making a sticky mess in his lap. You’re dizzy and weak, body flopping forward on his chest. Miguel soothes you, curling his hand in your hair and pressing you into the crook of his neck. He kisses the top of your head and you’re too numb to feel him take your body off him. He places your back down on the couch, hair sticking to your face with sweat, lips plumped from kissing. You’re whining when your sensitive folds feel his still hard cock rub in between them, accidentally slipping his tip in a few times. You swallow to get the dryness out of your throat. “Mig…Mig…” You’re cut off when Miguel slams into you, your body jerking and tits bouncing with the hard thrust. Your hazy vision rolls onto his face, Miguel glued onto your chest still. He gives another few soft thrusts and watches your boobs jiggle around. You feel his cock jump inside your walls, a soft hum of approval coming from deep in his throat. He bends down, biting and licking the side of your tit to add another mark to his collection. His teeth marks littered around your plump and round flesh–his favorites being the ones around your areola.

His face is buried in your breasts while he pounds into you, your head thrown back and legs locked around his waist. Oh, he’s in heaven.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere boyfriend, some toxic traits

gn reader

Thinking about a bruiser boyfriend who loves it when you kiss his bloody knuckles after he’s finished beating someone to a pulp—who loves to grope the fat of your ass and thighs, sink his fingers into the plush, knead you like dough while sinking into the comfort of your lap face-first—getting all woozy with groggy moaning when you run your hand through his hair.

A rough boyfriend who kisses you oh-so-terribly softly—but who, no matter how gentle he tries to be, can never truly mask just how brutishly strong he actually is. You can always feel the burden hiding in the pressure of his fingertips lingering on your skin, doing everything in his power to hold back the full weight of his true power. 

A big brawny boyfriend who gets fed up with you sometimes—who, instead of yelling and cursing, instead just picks you up over his shoulder like a sack of flour and pays no mind to any of your protests except for a light slap on your ass, holding you there while you bang away at his back with balled fists, telling you he’ll let you down once you’re down acting like a brat—but who, at the same time, whenever makes you cry, gets down on both knees and puts his forehead to the floor, crawling forward until he’s right by your feet, kissing your ankles until you forgive him.

A trigger-happy, prone-to-jealousy boyfriend who squares up at any given chance when he thinks someone’s flirting with you, who barks just as hard as he bites and will happily sleep in a jailcell any night if it means he got to knock someone's teeth out for talking to you.

A massive boyfriend who loves drowning you in his clothes, who wants you to wear them always—who just shakes his head when you tell him it’s not flattering to your figure and tells you that nothing in the world suits you better. 

A ride-or-die boyfriend who tattoos your name on his bicep and talks you into getting his name on your ass. 

A no-filter boyfriend who tells you that he’d straight up murder you and bury you in his backyard if you ever dared leave him, who doesn’t give two shits whether it’s cliché or not—if he can’t have you, no one can.

BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi

JJK – Sukuna, Toji

DS – Akaza, Inosuke, Sanemi

[hoekyeom]

tw / overstimulation

mingyu just couldn’t help himself. could you blame him? your pussy was just too good and so so tight, he wanted to milk every last drop out of your trembling and weak body. you felt like you were on the brink of passing out, mewling and whimpering for mingyu to stop.

“n-n’more.. no more gyu, pl-please..”

“safe word baby.” he stated simply. you always wondered how mingyu had so much self control, you had already came five times while he was still working towards his first one. your entire body was on fire, and there he was unscathed, with an occasional drop of sweat every once or twice.

tears ran down your face, but you knew mingyu was right, you didn’t actually want him to stop, not when you were so close. you liked when mingyu fucked you like this, pushing your limits, tip toeing on the line between just right and too much.

“no? no safe word?” he chuckled, “that’s my girl, taking everything i give her so well.”

“cl-close! m’close gyu..” your stomach churned and your face was hot and damp, mingyu leaning down to wipe the sticky hairs out of your face.

“yeah i know you are baby, let go just like that, f-fuck..” he groaned, your pussy clamping down on him as your juices squirted all over his pelvis and dripped onto the bed sheets, leaving your cunt glistening.

you were left breathless, mingyu soothingly caressing your stomach.

“you’ll give me one more, right?”

@hoekyeom | ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[babyleostuff]

when they take a joke too far | ot13

❥ seungcheol 

as much as i love cheol, i don’t think he’d immediately notice that he took the joke too far, mainly because of the fact that when he’s in the moment, surrounded by other people, you know - trying to be funny (maybe attempting on impressing others with his amazing joking skills), he’d be a bit too focused on the people surrounding him. it doesn’t change the fact that the second he notices you acting a tad bit off, he’s all over you asking you questions - if you are all right, if you want to leave, if you need food or water, his jacket etc etc. when he’d find out you were upset by his joke, oh - he’d be so so disappointed and angry with himself, truly. cheol would apologise, of course, and ask you if you needed space (it would break his heart if you said yes tbh, but he'd understand that). he just wouldn’t want to disappoint and hurt you even more.

❥ jeonghan 

jeonghan knows he can be quite petty and sarcastic at times, and his jokes can be taken ambiguously sometimes, especially when people don’t really know him and his humour. then again, he’d never tell a mean joke on purpose, he’s not mean like that, but sometimes his jokes do not come out as he means them to. it could take him some time to notice you being upset over his joke because after all you’re quite used to his sense of humour, so he’d never think that you could get upset over it. in his mind his joke is just a silly comment, he obviously doesn’t mean for it to upset you, god forbid. when he finds out you’re bothered by it though, he’d apologise in any way he could - he’d be extra attentive, clingy, and careful with you, but giving you space at the same time.

❥ joshua 

immediately feels so bad when he sees your expression fall after his bad joke. does not wait to apologise later or reflect on what he had just said - your visible sadness is enough for joshua to cradle your face in his hands and apologise, as sincerely as he can. even if you’re with friends or other acquaintances, he doesn’t care if people are staring or murmuring to each other, all he cares about is apologising. even if you’d forgive him, joshua would still be a bit more wary around you, making sure to give you space but at the same time still care for you and take care of you, because despite your words - he knew you were still a bit upset.

❥ jun 

wouldn’t be sure whether to pack up his things and move out of your apartment, bury himself under the sheets, or to bawl his eyes out. the worst part is when he doesn’t even realise that he upset you with his joke, because what do you mean that he made you sad and he proceeded to go about his day like nothing happened? HE DIDN’T KNOW, PLEASE FORGIVE HIM. it’s never, ever jun’s intention to make you upset (duh), and it makes everything so much worse - he’s the one who’s supposed to make you laugh, not sad. when he realises that he took the joke too far he’s not sure how to approach you, because if he could he’d apologise immediately, but then again - what if you hate him now?

❥ hoshi 

this man is the epitome of “saying before thinking”, and while he’d never tell a joke to offend someone on purpose, shit happens and not all of his jokes come off as jokes. he also gets easily distracted so it could take some time for him to notice you being upset, but at the same time he’s such a simp for you, so he’d either realise you were bothered by his comment an hour later or the second the joke left his mouth. would be the type to fall to his knees, hug your waist, bury his face in your stomach, and proceed with an at least hour apology because he feels that bad. his dramatic behaviour (and the even more dramatic apology speech) would make you laugh so hard, you’d forget about the joke in seconds. still, hoshi would be extra caring with you because no excuse could justify his joke that was lame and unfunny in the first place.

❥ wonwoo 

to be honest, i don’t see a world where wonwoo would take a joke too far, he’d notice you being uncomfortable before you’d even know you were upset by the joke yourself. BUT, if it (somehow) happened, his apology would come straight away. there is no way he’d be able to proceed with his day without apologising at least fifty times - he’s so in tune with your emotions, it’d be like he could feel you hurting because of the joke himself. wonwoo would feel very ashamed of even thinking, let alone telling such a joke, he’d feel very disappointed in himself, and he’d beat himself up for that for days.

❥ woozi 

would apologise immediately - jihoon doesn’t like bullshitting around stuff, there is no way he’d wait with apologising, not only because he doesn’t like getting into conflicts, but because you deserve that apology. it’s never his intention to upset you, and he wouldn’t be able to proceed with his day without saying something. like, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t? after incidents like those (not that they happen often), he’s a bit more cautious around you, making sure to not overstep any boundaries, and letting you have some space.

❥ dk 

not happening, sorry - there is no way seokmin would take a joke too far to the point of upsetting someone, especially you. no. freaking. way. he’d rather set his body of fire than make an upsetting joke. 

❥ mingyu 

there’s also a slim chance of mingyu taking a joke too far, he’s too good of a person to upset anyone with his jokes. if it happened, he’d immediately apologise, probably in one of the most dramatic ways ever - throwing himself on his knees, yapping about how sorry he is, and how he didn’t know how such a joke could even come to his mind, while he’s eyes would be screaming “FORGIVE ME PLEASE”. he would be so disappointed and angry at himself for saying the joke, like it would take him days to get over it, even if you said you forgave him. there’s just something about taking a joke too far and making your significant upset because of it that breaks mingyu’s heart.

❥ minghao    

he can be very blunt and petty, his humour is not for everyone, but that still doesn’t mean he’d upset anyone on purpose (unless that person is rude, then they get the full on xu minghao treatment). when he notices he took his joke too far regarding you, he’s kind of clueless on what to do next - it’s not like he can ignore the fact that he said what he said, and he feels so ashamed for making you upset, in fact - too ashamed to apologise immediately. all of his confidence and bluntness suddenly leaves him, because how is he supposed to keep his head high when he just made his significant other upset with a joke, he decided to think of and then say. 

❥ seungkwan 

our savage boo can be a tad too savage at times, and sometimes his remarks can be a bit upsetting. good thing is that he quickly realises when he oversteps the boundary of what is funny and what is not, so it wouldn’t take him much time to understand that you got genuinely upset over his joke. would take your hands in his, and with a lowered head (he’d be too embarrassed and ashamed of upsetting you to look at you), and try to apologise as sincerely as he could. seungkwan would make sure to give you some space, though it would break his heart - but he knew that that was what he had to do for you to forgive him completely.

❥ vernon 

vernon isn’t known for coming up with loud and bold jokes, so he immediately catches himself after telling the joke that clearly wasn’t a good one, especially because it was directed towards you. his first instinct is to watch you to see your reaction, he wouldn’t want to say anything right away, afraid that it would make the situation only worse. he’s very cautious when approaching you, he’d understand if you’d need some space, but at the same time he doesn’t want to wait with his apology, because he feels really, really bad. he's also really good at apologising - maybe taking the full accountability for a bad joke is the bare minimum, but then again finding the bare minimum is very hard lately.

❥ chan

chan is usually quite good at controlling what he’s saying, he’s very cautious of the emotions of the people around him, and how his words might affect them. sometimes shit happens though, and not all of his jokes come out as he’d wish them to. chan’s a simp and he’s a loser for you, so he’d catch on to the fact that he took his joke too far quite quickly, and wouldn’t know how to act. he just made you sad, no - he just offended you. his joke, his words made you upset, and that’s a complete failure of his boyfriend duties, because his jokes are supposed to make you laugh, not upset. wouldn’t know how to approach you, would try to apologise through acts of service.

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[jo-com]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ➛ Clingy

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux

Summary: Charles and Alex gets so clingy it’s adorable

Genre: Short Fluff, Throuple!

Tw: not anything in particular js some grammatical error and mind u this is not profread

─────── ─ ‧₊˚ ☁️ ─ ───────

Yn.cult just posted!

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Yn.cult 📍NYC!! Finally back at home💋

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Bellahadid No invites??

Yn.cult NEXT TIME I PROMISE

Bellahadid You better🤨

Alexandrasaintmleux Pretty as always ma fille

Yn.cult Stopp, you’re making me blush🤭

Charles_Lecler I think you’re pretty too!

Alexandrasaintmleux i said it first tho😐

User1 THE WAY THEY’RE FIGHTING OVER HER😭😭

User2 Nah cause i’d do the same ngl

Ex.bf Staying there too! Maybe we should hang out!

Alexandrasaintmleux yeah no.

Charles_Leclerc Agreed.

User3 he shoot his shot but got rejected twice😭😭

…

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Yn.cult Omy to time square btw thanks for having me!💋

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User4 How can one person look cute and hot at the same time

User5 it’s called the y/n effect✨

User6 Faxx☝🏻

User7 Nah who took the first pic?🤨

Vougemagazine lovely having you!

♥️ liked by the author

Alexandrasaintmleux Missing you so bad mon amour😢

…

Alex pouted, her brows knitted in a frown as she stared blankly at your post; constantly refreshing it to see whether or not you replied to her comment yet.

But every time she does, she gets disappointed—not seeing your reply just makes her grow fonder of your presence.

With a deep sighed, Alex turned off her phone and buried her face in y/n’s favorite pillow. The one she uses every time they sleep, the one that has her lingering smell on it, and the one Charles and Alex coddles up whenever they miss you. Which is constantly so they fight about whoever gets it.

Alex stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind was clouded with the thoughts of you. She just misses you so much it’s killing her. Literally.

The only reason you were out was because of your job; you love modeling that’s why they couldn’t have the guts to stop you from going. But now they just wished that they stopped you.

“Ughhhhh” she sighed, dragging the h along the tone of her boredness. Her voice echoing around the empty room which caught the attention of their boyfriend.

“What’s the matter, bébé?” Charles asked, peeking his head into the doorframe.

Alex lazily dragged her head up to face charles. “Everything’s cool, i just miss her is all” she mumbled, her voice laced with sadness and longing.

Charles smiled emphatically, he knows what it’s like to miss you— he’s going through that too but he’s not taking it as hard like Alex though. He’s trying to act strong for the both of them, i mean someone has to, right?

Alex felt the couch dipped down as Charles sat besides her frame. “Should we call y/n and see what’s she’s up to?” He asked, rubbing soft circles around her back.

“No” she replied all muffled due to her head still facing down and resting on your pillow.

She wanted them to call you; to hear your sweet voice. Alex wanted nothing more than that, but then again she doesn’t want to disturb you and ruin your fun.

“Let’s just watch a movie and try to get our minds of her, yeah?” Sighing defeatedly, alex nodded her head and muttered a low ‘sure’ making Charles smile happily.

So that’s what they did, they watched a movie, and ate all the food they could find in the house until they fell asleep.

They woke up the very next day— saw your recent post and started to miss you like crazy again.

…

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Yn.cult Miss my two pouty babies!💋

…

Got bored and wanted to make this, hope you guys enjoy itt!!

[miirohs]

all yours, all mine [c.l.c]

pairing: Mob Boss!Charles Leclerc x Wife!Reader wc: 1.3k cw: again, slight yandere/possesive tendencies, allusion to abuse an: guys i am feeling uninspired lately,,,, needed to pull everything in me for this one. sigh. its 2 in the morning what am i doing with my life i need to sleep not be up to this bs GODDDDDDD strike me down.

Charles knew you weren’t truly his wife.

He himself had shot his bride to be, too loud and too lecherous to realize how she’d met her end, bragging about killing him for his money in his club.

He thought that’d be the last of it, that their family wouldn’t be brave enough to show face again.

Yet, they became audacious, sending him a woman, a woman who was nothing like the bride he had seen. 

Hell, you didn’t even look the same as the other.

There was no way their family didn’t know by now that he was the one who killed their only daughter, yet he could only imagine this was their attempt at faking normalcy because he’d never seen his bride before, right?

He laughed, in all honesty. 

He could’ve played along, see what would’ve happened, and have been done with you by dinner if he wanted to. But part of him wanted you to show your true colors, to be able to kill the venomous woman hiding behind the veil.

That day never came though.

He was too baffled by the sight of you clinging to their sides, eyes down as you could barely keep up in the shoes slightly too big to be yours.

He pretended not to notice. 

At dinner he questioned you, much to your visible discomfort. He could see the glances you gave the other members of your supposed family, meekly responding back as they glared sharply at your head, only smiling when they noticed his stares. It didn’t take long for him to connect two and two.

It was there and then he’d made the awfully irrational decision to go forward with the marriage. He wanted to pull you out of your shell, see who you really were under the supposed mask you had on in front of everyone.

Your marriage was a grand affair, bosses from all around the globe visiting just to see the ceremony. He had refused to give in to their demands for a smaller wedding, going all out just for you.

And true to his word, he treated you with more respect than he’d ever cared to show anyone else. For him, hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks as he tried to pull you out of your shell.

It was a while before he got the first laugh out of you. He felt like he’d won everything when you gave him small smiles. He did everything to get them out of you. Showering you in lavish gifts, surprising you with expensive dates, it made him feel like he was finally doing something right. 

Seeing your full smile was what truly made it worth it, easing the pain of your time with your former family, if he could even call them that. 

He’d made sure to cut all contact with them, and he knew you were contacting them against his wishes, so he took it into his own hands to make sure they couldn’t bother you for a single cent again. He plotted behind your back and as sorry as he felt for lying to you, he paid for his guilt in consuming you with his neediness, wrapping you tightly from your waking moments almost as if you’d disappear forever if you left his field of vision.

You didn’t question it, but you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t startle you a bit.

He hummed as you gently ran your fingers through his hair, pit forming in your stomach as you heard him mutter in Italian on the phone, pen scratching against the paper of his notepad.

You heard the bare sentences of his conversation, too fast for you to understand, but you thought you had a good idea of what he was planning.

“Dovremo metterli a tacere (We'll have to silence them)-”

A couple heartbeats passed as he listened, your heart clenching almost painfully as you held the cuff of his suit jacket between your thumb and index finger. Maybe he had figured it out, maybe he was already plotting ways to dispose of you for tricking him in such a grievous manner. You hadn’t heard from the family in weeks, and it made you anxious.

“Non sono d'accordo? Bene, uccideteli (they won’t agree? fine, kill them).”

For a moment there, you didn’t see your husband, but the Devil of Monte Carlo.

He didn’t say anything, and you couldn’t bring yourself to, letting your hand slip away from his crown.

“Y/n? What happened?” He frowned, hand rubbing against the small of your back.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, words lying on the tip of your tongue as he cocked his head at you.

“It’s nothing.” You moved your hands away from his neck, balling into little fists in your lap.

“It’s not nothing,” He pressed, staring you down firmly despite the gentle tone of his voice. He knew you, almost too well.

“I… i don’t know how to tell you. You’re going to hate me if I do.” Your voice warbled out as he kissed you on the neck, too light and breezy to mean anything serious.

“Try me. You’d be surprised at how well I take things, and I'm not unreasonable.” Another kiss, leading up the column of your neck as you squealed at the feeling of his warm lips on cooled skin.

“Well, uh, i-” He bit down lightly, earning a soft smack from you in the back of the head, “-Char, what are you doing?”

“Trying to cheer you up.” He said, kissing on the spot he’d bit with an incomparable amount of gentleness.

“I just have something to tell you and i-”

“Is it important in any way that actively harms our lives?” He butt in, giving you a curious look.

“No, but-”

“Then I don't care.” He shrugged, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth. You didn’t even know you could’ve gotten that loud, when you finally spit it out.

“I’m not your real wife, Char. I never was.”

He didn’t say anything, humming against the crown of your head as his hand snuck up your back and held you closer to him.

“Char, please.”

“I knew that, this isn’t new news.”

You held on, mouth gaping slightly.

“You… you knew this whole time, and you-”

“I deliberately didn’t tell you.” He scoffed, pulling your chin down to look at him. “I knew you’d run back to that so-called family that I did if I had told you. You barely trusted me, and it was their fault. So that’s why I'm going to make sure all of them take a nice long vacation.”

You couldn’t really feel the abject horror anymore, melting into sheer relief as you finally looked at him once more.

There was something about the way he looked at you, tantalizing and hypnotized almost.

‘But, aren’t you mad about me…?”

“Oh I was, I was furious.”

His lips ghosted over yours, the hint of a smile somewhere there.

“But they ended up giving me something all the more precious, something I couldn't replace. You know what that is, mon amour?”

You didn’t even have to say it, as he kissed you, lips smooth against your slightly chapped ones. The expensive perfume grew smaller, closer and closer to you as the space between you closed.

“I’ve done some unspeakable things.” He panted quietly against your lips, landing another soft kiss on the other corner. “But nothing as unspeakable as killing your so-called “family” this late in the game. Some part of me wishes i had done it earlier to spare you that grief.”

You didn’t respond but he continued nonetheless, hands wrapped around your waist to bring you closer to him .”Remember that you're mine and I'm all yours. I would do anything for you.”

And the worst part is, somewhere deep down, you knew it to be true. He was always yours, and you were always his. He'd made sure of it, and you weren't entirely complaining.

[onsomenewsht]

Aching legs that often told us it’s all worth it

About when you just win everything and you just want a hug

》 Barcelona Femini x Reader, Leah Williamson x Reader

》 word count: +2k

》 cras amet qui nunquam amavit; quique amavit cras amet [latin verse]: let the one love tomorrow who has never loved, and let the one who has loved love tomorrow

It’d be hypocritical to say you have never imagined this moment, that you have never dreamt of this exact moment. It’d be hypocritical to say that you have never, in the comfort of your bathroom, lifted a bottle of shampoo picturing this very trophy.

But no dream nor bottle of shampoo can remotely come close to how you feel when the referee blows the whistle three times, proclaiming your club the winner of the Champions League.

The legs, which just until a moment ago were close to giving up under the weight of an intense and stressful 90 minutes of running back and forth, suddenly sprint towards the centre of the pitch to join the Blaugrana bubble.

Screams and celebrations in more languages than you can recognise can’t bother you as you know well enough you’re all saying the same thing, you’re all sharing and expressing the same joy.

“Non ci credo!” [I don’t believe this!], Giulia jumps on your back without a care – the excitement to win such a big competition at such a young age fills you with pride.

What a bright future these kids have in front of them.

“Credici, it’s the first of many”

You’re optimistic tonight, it’s the first Champions League for you too after all.

You carry her around the pitch for five good minutes, hugging and cheering with every single teammate you meet in your path. The Italian girl gets dragged away not long after to join the kids’ groups.

You don’t mind it too much, you feel too old to keep up with their endless energy anyway.

For the first time since the end of the game you find yourself looking around, looking for a blonde woman – probably hidden behind a ridiculous hat.

It’s Keira who manages to catch your attention, screaming in that incomprehensible accent of hers right in your ears and dragging you towards the podium.

The trophy ceremony flies in a blur of cheers and confetti, despite your best attempts to savour every single minute of this incredible and historic win.

When, between pictures and out-of-key chants, a moment of apparent calm arrives, and you take advantage of it to look in the stands for your family.

At least the journey was not in vain this time.

The wrinkles around your mom’s mouth are a clear sign she’s been smiling for hours, the watery eyes of your father are the clearest expression of pride you will get from him. You hug them both for as long as they allow you, still reserving your biggest hug for your brother.

No sign of her yet.

“Here I was, thinking I couldn’t be more proud of you”.

You can’t hold back your tears.

After all, he’s your biggest and longest supporter, cheering for you since you used to play with boys double your age and size.

“Shut up and let me hug Andrea”, you say, reaching for your excited nephew.

The attention the toddler gives you is long enough to admire your medal and to kick a couple of times towards the goal when you let him onto the pitch. As soon as he spots Claudia, recently declared his favourite player ever, he sprints in her direction to steal her from Patri. You let him be, there’s Irene with the group of barely-grown-ups.

You don’t hold back a laugh as you see María run out of nowhere, her flag secured in one hand and a contagious smile on her face. You can’t wait to see her play again.

Then the sudden realisation you’re alone hits you hard. You’re alone, not too far away from the middle of the pitch. As much alone someone can be in the middle of a Champions League final celebration, but alone nonetheless.

Around you, teammates and friends and families are gathered in different bubbles, jumping and cheering without much of a care. The stands are filled with Blaugrana colours, singing loud and proud.

For the first time today, you let yourself get carried away by the supporters’ passion, admiring every single corner of the stadium as the privileged spectator of your own story.

You just witnessed a moment in football’s history.

You’d cry if not for the fitted body that crushes into you unexpectedly, bringing you back to the green grass without much effort.

“La poeta!”

“La reina!”

You share with Alexia a hug way more intense and sentimental than what you’re used to. You let emotion overcome you one more time as the captain holds you firmly, large hands caressing your back and keeping you present.

Her eyes are as shining as her all self, this victory means so much more than the obvious for most of you.

“You had to come in and score just like that, celebrate just like that”

“¿Qué puedo decir?” [What can I say?], the blonde shrugs her shoulders, but after years of friendship you can tell when the fine line between being humble and being aware of your own greatness blurs.

Alexia holds your face between her hands, the smirk painted on her lips shifts slightly to a more serious smile.

“Te lo mereces, lo sabes?” [You know you deserve this, right?]

“We all do”

“No, no, you deserve this”, she says firmly, addressing the elephant in the room dressed as the loan that last year broke your confidence.

You were there in Turin, it looked like a twist of fate to be away from Barcelona when they lifted the most beautiful trophy in Europe’s football.

This victory means more to you than what you’re willing to admit, even to yourself.

That’s one of the reasons why you’re still looking for her in the crowd.

“Enough with this mushy stuff, where’s my favourite Putellas?”

“Lo juro, si no dejas de hablar así de mi hermana–” [I swear, if you keep talking like this of my sister–]

“Oh, I was talking about your mom, but now that we’re on it–”

The punch she throws on your arm is light, but the message is clear. You and Alba have too much fun provoking Alexia, who is way overprotective of the both of you to realise that the jokes are only aimed at annoying her.

Feeling called upon, the two women join you with huge smiles on their faces. Eli welcomes you with a motherly hug, somehow sensing the tension on your shoulders.

“¿Qué es esa mala cara?” [Why the long face?]

“She can’t find her girlfriend”

“¡Alba, callate!”

Alexia raises an eyebrow at her sister’s quip, not happy to be let out about this.

She doesn’t know about the situationship you find yourself in. It’s not like you don’t trust the blonde, you do. But you’re aware of the protective tendencies and, on top of everything, you’re a bit scared of the lecture about the importance of being honest with your feelings and all that shit.

She’s too emotionally mature now.

Luckily, Olga comes running to meet you, distracting the captain from any inquisitive question without much effort.

“You’re disgusting”, you say to Alexia, now used to her open smile and carefree attitude whenever her girlfriend is close enough to light up her usually stoic face.

“¡Oy!”

“I wasn’t talking about Olga, I like Olga”, you state, dropping an arm around Alba’s shoulder who immediately joins the joke, “Yeah, lovesick Alexia is scary”

Eli has to intervene, still laughing at her daughter’s expense.

“They’re just jealous”

Olga’s right, you can hide it from everyone but yourself. You’re definitely a little envious of the cute relationship and happiness that seem to follow your friend like a glowing shadow.

You want a love like that too.

Your gaze starts wandering around the pitch once again, hoping to find the person who’s hunting your dreams and nightmares.

You know she’s here, you overheard Keira talking about her before the game.

She’s just not here for you.

Quickly excusing yourself from the Putellas’ family, muttering something about looking for your nephew to relieve anyone who found themselves babysitting, you bid your goodbye.

Before you can get away Alexia hugs you one last time, letting you know you’re not escaping her questions.

You find Andrea easily, entertained as he runs around followed shortly by another child – Mapi.

“Oh, wow, it’s like looking at your future!”, you teasingly nod at Ingrid, who’s way too entranced by the scene.

The Norwegian just grins, holding you as she kisses your forehead, always amused about the height difference. Her silence is loud enough.

Another jolt of jealousy strikes your body, immediately subsided by the reassuring presence of the defender and the loving gaze reserved for the enthusiastic Spanish woman nearby.

You couldn’t hate them even if you wanted to, they’re too beautiful together and you’re too happy for them.

When your nephew finally notices you, he seems to remember you actually are his favourite person. He outruns María, literally jumping between your arms – risking falling on his face just once by tripping over the flag that one of your teammates must have tied around his neck like a cape.

“¡Visca Barça!”

“Your father supports Milan”

“Ser del Barça es el millor que hi ha!”, he states in an impressive Catalan.

“Who taught you that?”

The kid points at Aitana and Jana, both sporting a smug grin all over their faces as they greet you from close by. The latter is lucky you’re feeling merciful enough to not embarrass her in front of her girlfriend.

You can just shake your head and laugh about the situation.

“You can give Keira Spanish lessons”, you say to Andrea as you position him comfortably on your shoulders.

You try to be subtle as you observe all the people on the pitch. If anyone asks, you are simply looking for your brother in the crowd of Blaugrana to return the child to its rightful owner.

Even if your brother is not a gorgeous footballer you can’t get out of your mind.

Of course you find him in a conversation with Keira.

“Tell me more about this high school suspension”, you hear the English midfielder ask.

“Tell her absolutely nothing!”

The chat goes on for a few more minutes, you’re a little ashamed to admit that you’re not listening to a single word as you still look around.

It’s your nephew who brings you back to reality, pulling you by the collar of your medal. You quickly bid your goodbyes to both of them, making sure you can meet again before they have to go back home and you have to be dragged into all the post-final engagements.

“You’re hopeless”

“What?”

“You’re both unbelievable”

“Where is your girlfriend? You’re bearable when Laura is around”

“She’s somewhere with your girlfriend”

At her obvious taunt, your gaze still flies in all the directions your neck humanely allows.

You really are hopeless.

Keira’s laugh is the final nail in the coffin, the only one amused about the situation.

She’s also the one who introduced you to the person you thought would just be a fun night out over a year ago, the person who turned out to be comforting and a constant thought.

The person who makes you realise midair you’re falling in love.

No strings attached though.

“Go to her!”

“She’s not here for me”

“Don’t drag me in, you useless stubborn–”

The blonde has a point, you can’t deny that the mutual friendship is the perfect excuse to find each other in the same places at the same time. The perfect opportunity to see each other again as much as possible without questioning the blurred line between an armless fuck and growing feelings.

Nights of fun soon turned into morning talks in the warmth of a hotel bed, then whole days spent exploring each other’s lives.

If only one of you dares to admit wanting more.

“Ohi, champ!”

As you hear her voice you never turn around so fast in your life, almost injuring yourself from the force with which you move. You don’t even hear Keira bust out laughing at your side.

“Hi”

“Ciao”

What a stupid smile you have on your face, just staring at each other a few steps away.

You’re sweaty and tired from the match and the celebrations, pretty sure your hair is a mess and your legs are on the verge of giving up. Yet she thinks she has never seen you more beautiful.

“Oh, for fuck’ sake, just kiss or whatever”, Keira grabs you both by an arm when neither of you makes any sign of moving, impatiently pushing you closer to the other and leaving, muttering something you’re not sure you want to know.

“Don’t run too far, you still have an interview in Catalan to do”

You don’t hear your friend’s response, you don’t even see her finger up in the air. When Leah laughs every other sound and person fades into the background.

“Can’t wait for that to happen”

“You and any other culés”

A few more moments pass before the blonde adds, “I think congratulations are in order”, pointing to the medal you wear around your neck – suddenly heavier.

“Thank you”, you whisper, lowering your gaze and nervously turning the object over in your hands.

You don’t need to see her, always hyper aware of her presence around you. You feel her approaching and enveloping you in a warm embrace, the hug you’ve been waiting for all day.

You have to admit to yourself it’s the best you’ve received today.

[tayytayy12]

Florida !!! | LN4 x Reader

Summary - Reader and Lando have been together since his rookie season, she was there through every DNF and every podium, she was there for Sochi 2021, she was there to comfort him through all the bad times, so of course she’d be his number one supporter when he finally brings home a win.

Warnings - Swearing, but overall just fluff

Type - Written work, small SMAU at the end

Requested - no

Notes - Idk why it’s taken me so long to write something for Lando’s win 🫢 not been proofread apu

You and Lando had been together since his rookie season, the two of you had met in school and over time your friendship had developed into something more, and you were so grateful that it had.

You was there on the day of his first ever race with McLaren, you remembered how he was a mess of nerves, and you was quick to reassure him that he would do good, you knew he would, you had always seen his talent. You had been right though with telling him not to worry, he came home with a P6, outscoring his teammate Carlos by quite a bit, the Spaniard driver scoring P15.

Since you made your first appearance at the 2019 Australian Grand Prix for your boyfriend’s debut, the two of you quickly became a fan favourite and gained the nickname the ‘it’ couple of the paddock when fans began to take notice of the heart eyes that Lando looked at you with at any possible occasion.

You were the first person he looked for to celebrate after his first ever podium, you were his shoulder to cry on after the events of Sochi 2021, you were everything to him, and he had no shame in admitting it.

It was currently the 2024 Miami Grand Prix, and you had managed to get time off of work to come and watch Lando race, he didn’t have a win in his mind that day, having qualified P6 and Max was on pole yet again, but he had his hopes set on a podium, which was very possible due to his skill and the bonus of the new upgrades that the team had put into the car.

“You’re going to do amazing Lan,” you said to him with a smile on your face and you reached up to run your fingers through his curls as he was finishing preparing for the race, “as always.”

He laughed and pulled your hand out of his hair to place a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “Thank you baby,” he said with a smile as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “I’ll try my best to get that podium for you, yeah?”

“You will do it Lan,” you said with a smile as you pulled him into a gentle kiss, “I believe in you. Now, go get that trophy for me baby, I’ll be watching.” You said as he smiled down and you and gave you one last kiss before going off and doing the final parts if readying himself for the race as you made your way to find Lily so the pair of you could watch the race together.

————

You had no words. All you could do is let out a chocked laugh as deafeningly loud cheers erupted around you as everyone in and even outside the McLaren garage cheered in long awaited victory.

He had done it. He had won. Lando had one a race. “Oh my god.” You said, you could hear the smile in your voice as you looked at the screen in front of you in disbelief and happiness and you heard your boyfriends loud cheers over the radio.

“WE DID IT! Oh my god. Oh my god. WE DID IT. Oh my, this is for the team, all of you for believing in me all these years, I’ve finally brought it home to you. Um, my mum and dad, and Y/n. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without all of your support. WE DID IT!”

Nothing could wipe the wide smile off of your face as Lily grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the podium celebration, Oscar’s girlfriend, one of your closest friends also couldn’t contain her smile as she watched the pure happiness on your face, god he had done it.

Your smile grew time times wider when Lando walked onto the top step of the podium, his smile not wavering, if anything growing ten times wider when he looked down and met your eyes. He couldn’t wait to see you.

————

It was a couple of hours after the race the he finally managed to go and find you, which wasn’t a very hard task, you was waiting for him in his drivers room like usual.

He walked in, that smile still plastered on his face as you jumped up when he opened the door and pulled him into a suffocating hug, “Hey baby.” He laughed as he hugged you back just as tight.

“You did it.” You muttered into his shoulder as Lando pulled you up so your legs wrapped around his waist, the pair of you still enveloped in each other’s arms, “my god I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Thank you baby,” he said as you pulled away and smashed your lips to his, in a warm, gentle kiss that lasted until the two of you had to pull away to catch your breath, “You did so good out there today, had me biting my nails till you took the chequered flag.”

He laugh as he kept peppering kisses all over your face, “Thank you baby. This was for you, y’know. I wouldn’t never had made it this far if it wasn’t for you and all of your never ending support.”

You smiled at him, “I love you, Lando Norris. My Formula one race winner.”

He chuckled and pulled you into another tight hug, “Well Y/n Y/l/n, your formula one race winner lovers you even more.”

The pair of you along with a handful of other drivers and loads of members if the McLaren team went out that night to celebrate that night, but even drunk as fuck, Lando still knew that he wouldn’t have done it without you by his side, and you liked that though, because you never planned on leaving anyway.

-

Yourusername

Liked by - LandoNorris, LilyZneimer, and 487,372 others

Tagged | @/LandoNorris

Yourusername - My god I didn’t think it was humanly possible to be so proud of a person. Lando, my love no one deserves this win more than you did, I remember watching your pure excitement and disbelief when you found out you would be joining F1 those years ago, and here you are now, my race winner. It’s been a long time coming, and I’m glad that I managed to get this time off of work. I love you more than anything in this world, this is just the first in a long line of victories for you. Forever your biggest fan. Florida really is a magical place. 🤍🧡

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LandoNorris - This was for, and because of you, baby. I love you 🤍

Yourusername - I love you more 🤍

-

[barcaatthemoon]

familia ii || alexia putellas x reader ||

a couple of the struggles of your first child with alexia.

part i

alexia brushed her hand against the back of your knuckles. she hadn't taken her eyes off of you for the past hour. out of the corner of your eyes, you could see the way that her body sagged and threatened to fall forward. still, alexia sat dilligently watching over you in the hospital room.

"ale, come here please," you said weakly. alexia's head snapped over to the hospital bed. you had moved over a little, just enough to make room for her to lay with you. alexia knew what you wanted, and she wasn't in any sort of mood to deny you. not after what you had just put yourself through to make her happy.

"are you having trouble sleeping?" alexia's voice was full of concern. she knew that you hated sleeping in new places. that wasn't what was keeping you away, however. alexia's staring and occasional knee-bouncing right next to your bed was the cause of your restlessness.

"cuddle me, please." you pouted as you stared up at alexia. she was more than happy to crawl into the bed with you. almost immediately, both of you fell right asleep in the hospital bed. you don't know how, but you managed to get a good night's sleep all cramped up in alexia's arms.

when the morning came, you had your fair share of visitors in the form of alexia's friends and family. a few friends that you had made stopped by, but your family was too far away to make it on such short notice, not that you expected them to. alexia's family doubled as your family now, especially since you had fallen pregnant.

most of the visitors were just passing through, but mapi, ingrid, alba, and eli stayed all day. they helped alexia move you and the newborn baby home. you had never thought that you'd have such a good support system in your life. they did everything for you except for feed the baby. you noticed that ingrid in particular stayed very close to you and the baby.

"have you ever thought of having a baby with maria?" you asked. ingrid bit her lip as she gave you a small nod. you knew that she was nervous to bring it up again, but you had been watching the way that maria melted whenever ingrid held your daughter. "you should. the two of you are in a good place, and there might be an opening for the apartment across the hall."

"do you really want those two together even more?" ingrid asked as she motioned towards where alexia, mapi, and alba were standing. alexia and mapi had joined up to shove alba back and forth. it was probably more than annoying for alba, but you loved the look on alexia's face as she laughed.

"i don't mind it most of the time. besides, we wouldn't have to be in the same place as them constantly," you reminded ingrid. she did seem to like the sound of that and agreed to look into the apartment across the hallway. they were large apartments, so you wouldn't have any more neighbors on the floor.

…

loud wails seemingly echoed through the hallway of your apartment. it was pitch black outside, the kind that it only ever was in the odd hours of the morning. alexia had gone back to training and her usual duties, so you were taking on a bit more with the baby. that meant you tried to get every late-night feeding or diaper change that came up. tonight wasn't going to be an exception, not with alexia going in for an important meeting in a few hours.

"jaime, baby, what's wrong?" you cooed as you stepped into the nursery. your daughter wouldn't answer, but you hoped that the sound of your voice would work. of course, it hadn't, not even as you said all the things you'd heard alexia say before.

you had carried jaime for nine months, but that girl was obsessed with alexia. at times, you felt like a failure for almost never being able to comfort your baby. in almost all of the books, it had warned about the other parent struggling to make a connection. the thought had never occured to you that it could be the other way around.

"shh, please don't cry," you begged and pleaded with jaime. however, it was too late. you heard alexia's footsteps, and once she had entered the room, jaime seemed to calm down. "i'm so sorry. i-i-," "it's okay, just go lay down. i've got this," alexia said. she took jaime from you and managed to get her down before you had gotten back to the bedroom. alexia wasn't sure what to expect when she got back, but it wasn't for you to be nearly sobbing into your pillow.

alexia got into bed with you and pulled you away from the pillows. her arms felt nice, but you didn't feel like you deserved it. you had one job, one agreed-upon job. you were supposed to take care of the baby, and it felt like you couldn't even do that. alexia was being patient with you, but even her patience had its limits.

"talk to me," alexia ordered. she had been worried about you for the past month and a half. alexia had stayed by your side for the entire offseason, and things should have clicked for you by now, but they hadn't.

"i'm a failure. jaime hates me, i don't get it." this time, you openly sobbed into her shirt. alexia was afraid for a moment that you'd wake the baby with how intense your crying was. she had a meeting that day, but it was going to be pushed back. there was no way she could leave you to do anything on your own when you were so obviously burnt out.

…

"alexia!" you groaned as eli yelled at her daughter. jaime was supposed to be down for tummy time, but alexia had continuously been picking the baby up instead. the doctors said that jaime was healthy, just a bit behind developmentally. you had been a bit beside yourself at the news, and alexia wasn't making it any better. "put her down!"

"mami, she was whining. she hates being down there by herself," alexia tried, but it was no use.

"then go down there with her, but do not pick her up," eli ordered. you hadn't expected eli to play the bad cop with alexia when it came to jaime, but you were grateful for it. alexia had warned you before jaime was even born that eli had been waiting for years to be a grandmother. there was no way she wasn't babying and spoiling her first grandchild, but alexia's mother had surprised you in putting her foot down when alexia wouldn't.

it wasn't surprising to you when alexia got down onto the floor. jaime barely ever seemed to crawl around when the doctors had told you she should be starting to stand up. you had been fighting with alexia about keeping jaime on the floor longer, but alexia always picked her up whenever you weren't looking. she didn't have the chance with eli there watching her like a hawk.

"mami, look at her. she wants to be held." alexia looked genuinely distraught as jaime began to whine a little.

"then you check on her to see if she needs something. there will be trouble if you coddle her for too long," eli warned. alexia brushed the warning off and took jaime into the kitchen to see if she wanted a bottle. "you need to put your foot down with alexia better."

"i don't want to start a fight." you were careful in choosing your words. eli didn't know about the arguments between you and alexia about coddling jaime. alexia had crossed a few lines resulting in you staying over with ingrid while mapi knocked some sense into your wife. "ale just hates to see her upset, that's all."

"how are the two of you doing? alba mentioned that she can't seem to get the two of you to brunch at the same time," eli was gentle with her prodding, but it was still prodding nonetheless.

"we have had some arguments, but nothing too permanent," you told her. eli didn't quite believe you, or at least she didn't believe that you were relaxed about this. she had seen how you and alexia were, how terrified you got whenever alexia seemed a bit annoyed. eli knew that one of your biggest fears was that alexia would leave you.

"if you need help with the big baby, let me know," eli told you. you chuckled a little and nodded. there had been times when you wished that you had eli's help while arguing with alexia. the woman could be acting like an asshole all week, but would immediately be on her best behavior if her mother was there.

…

"mummy!" jaime squealed as she reached for you from alexia's arms. lately, you had been jaime's favorite person, which was making alexia jealous. you could see the way that her jaw clenched as jaime began to scream and wail until you took her out of alexia's arms. "mummy."

"yes, mummy's here," you cooed softly. jaime rested her head against your shoulder as you walked her around. alexia watched from the couch as you got jaime settled down enough to rest in her playpen. once she was down and asleep, you joined alexia on the couch.

"she hates me," alexia grumbled. "i left for a tournament, and now she fucking hates me."

"alexia, she doesn't hate you. she just isn't used to you being back all the time. when you left, she was in shambles, it took a lot to get her to stop crying all the time. you weren't here, so you didn't see how we got to this point," you told her. it was a second too late when you realized that you had said the wrong thing as alexia's face fell.

"yeah, i wasn't here. that's the point," alexia raised her voice at you, something that hadn't happened since she came back. "you told me to leave, and then i had the euros camps. is this what you wanted all along?"

"ale, why would i want jaime to hate you?" you asked her. you hoped that it would help her realize how ridiculous she sounded, but it seemed to do the opposite instead.

"because you were so torn up about before. you and mi madre plotting behind my back. how many times did you go running to her before she told me that i had to go back home with her for a bit?" alexia asked you. she was slowly getting louder and louder. you didn't want to leave jaime in the living room all by herself, but you had to get alexia out of there. you knew she'd follow you to keep the fight going, so you got up and walked to the bedroom. "now you're walking away from me, ridiculous! we aren't done here."

"did you only come back to fight with me and see jaime?" you asked her. alexia paused, not having expected you to bite back. normally, you just sort of took whatever she threw at you until you had a chance to text or call eli or alba. you didn't have the energy to fight and make up with alexia in the same night. "because i can't do that, alexia. i'll go stay with ingrid or something and we'll work out a schedule, but if you are going to act like this, i'm not staying here anymore."

alexia seemed to realize that she had really fucked up because she immediately began to apologize and plead with you. "that's not what i want, (y/n), i swear. when i left, that was my little girl. she adored me, but now she cries when i'm in her arms. it's like she can tell that i've been bad. i'm sorry for snapping at you, i don't know what's wrong with me."

"you're stressed ale. jaime is picking up on the stress. there's nothing wrong with you to make our daughter hate you. she's still your little girl. do you think you can handle staying here while i go to ingrid's for a little while? i just want to calm down," you told her. alexia nodded. you could see that she wanted to hug or kiss you, but knew that you were mad at her. "i love you, ale."

"i love you too. i'll be better, i swear," alexia promised you. you pressed a kiss to her cheek on your way out. alexia ran a hand through her hair, let you leave the apartment, and then went back to watch jaime as she slept.

…

you laid curled up in alexia's arms as mapi laid on the grass with jaime. they were playing some game together, one that they had been playing inside originally. ingrid had shooed them outside at alejandro and manuel's naptime. you smiled as you watched the scene in front of you as mapi and jaime played together with ingrid watching from the porch.

"she's getting so big," alexia whispered in your ear. she ducked her head down a bit to press a kiss to the side of your jaw.

"yes, she is. i think it's the putellas genes. she's got your height," you told her. alexia hummed in agreement. jaime was nearly half a head taller than the other kids her age. she was also the spitting image of alexia, despite having your more reserved nature. next year, she'd be old enough to start with soccer, and alexia was so excited.

"if we start the treatments again soon and they go well, we could have a baby by my next birthday," alexia mentioned casually.

"i don't remember asking you what you wanted for your birthday," you teased. alexia scoffed as she gave you a little nudge. "i think that i'd like that too, but you would be playing for a lot of the pregnancy. are you okay with missing appointments?"

"back and forth. i'd like to retire with my girls on the pitch with me," alexia told you. you smiled at the thought of alexia giving her speech with you, jaime, and a second baby by her side.

"how do you know that we'll have another girl?" you asked her. to be fair, alexia had been pretty accurate in telling you beforehand how jaime would be.

"i don't for sure, but i've got a feeling. so, what do you say?" alexia asked you.

"i'd like that. the plan was three, wasn't it?"

"it was, but i'd like to carry the last one. i want to give you something as special as what you've given me." alexia pulled you in for a kiss, one that was only broken at the exaggerated gags of mapi and jaime.

"ew, gross mami!" jaime squealed. her squeals mixed with laughter as alexia got up and scooped jaime into her arms. alexia alternated between tossing jaime up and peppering the little girl's face in kisses. "te amo, mami."

"te amo mucho, jaime. your spanish getting much better," alexia said. jaime beamed at the praise. jaime had taken to english, but struggled with her spanish to the point where alexia wondered if they'd ever get around to catalan."

[bbyseok]

at first sight? — GOJO SATORU

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader

word count: 10k (idek i was possessed)

banner by @/bbyseok , dividers by @/bunnysrph !!

a/n: um hi. its finally here ! thanks to all who liked the teaser, this is my first jjk/gojo fic ever but i really think everyone needs some comfort after jjk chap 261.. and fuck u gege !!

content: soulmate au, gender neutral reader, minimal use of they/them pronouns for reader but gender is not specified, sorcerer reader, nicknames ‘sweetheart’, ‘pretty’, ‘baby’, fluff, mild angst with a happy ending, slowburn??, several pov switches, suggestive/implied nsfw at the end but nothing explicit, brief swearing/explicit language, brief violence/injuries, alcohol consumption, reader gets mildly drunk but nothing else, implied satosugu as past soulmates: can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic, fic takes place after jjk 0 but before the show starts

analysis: this is a world filled not only with curses, but soulmates—in which you know someone is your soulmate when you first make eye contact with them. but for your case, things can get a bit complicated when someone is wearing a blindfold.

here, in this universe, you can tell that someone is your soulmate by simply looking at them. so with that, the saying of “love at first sight” is actually pretty accurate here. you see them for the very first time and barely know the person and yet, somehow, they’re the one you’re destined to be with.

with that, you’d think it’d be pretty common for two random people to run into each other while crossing the street or something and bam! suddenly you’ve found the supposed love of your life!

and you? well, for you, that hasn’t happened yet.

to be fair, it’s not like you’re actively trying to look for your soulmate. handling curses as a jujutsu sorcerer is difficult enough. (maybe you’ll run into them one day after saving them from a curse or something. how romantic!)

it’s better to leave it up to fate. it’s fate who decided your pairing anyway, right?

your transfer to jujutsu tech had been fairly smooth. after being stationed in kyoto for a while, tokyo was a nice change of pace.

coincidentally, you had been out of the country during the incident known as the night parade of a hundred demons. a scary event that proved the threat of curse users to be formidable.

because of that, your decision to transfer to tokyo seemed like the right thing to do. and so far, it’s been decent.

it’s a nice change of scenery. the students are aspiring; while maki and megumi aren’t the friendliest, they’re warming up to you. toge and panda are gradually improving.

nanami’s pessimistic outlook on jujutsu society and shoko’s overall unenthusiastic demeanor are certainly interesting for the most part, but your coworkers are pleasant to be around.

well. except for one.

gojo satoru knows that you are his soulmate. he has indeed known this fact right from the very start, ever since your first meeting.

even with his blindfold on, he could see your own eyes before him. his six eyes can see everything. the thing is.. he didn’t know he could have another soulmate.

his situation with geto suguru is something he doesn’t talk about with anyone. maybe shoko at times, but even then, it’s rare. it’s not that he doesn’t want to, but it’s pretty hard to talk about.

after suguru defected, gojo could still obviously feel their bond. even though they were no longer together as the strongest duo, did it really matter when their souls were still connected to one another? it was a factor that played in avoiding (and perhaps meeting up with) each other as the years went by.

satoru felt their bond die that day after the events with okkotsu and rika. and it had frightened him. that lingering presence of the bond was no longer there.

so imagine his surprise when he sees you.

a new sorcerer in kyoto, now transferred to tokyo. normally, gojo doesn’t seek out the new recruits, but yaga had dragged him over regardless. besides, he might as well get to know his possible assistant teacher that would be helping him out with the new first years.

“i guess i can check out some new faces,” he relented with a sigh, adjusting his blindfold and looking to the side as yaga’s steps slowed as they approached you.

gojo rolled his eyes–not that you’d see it anyway–as yaga introduced you with your name and your sorcerer grade. he stopped to stand next to the principal.

you extended your hand to offer a handshake, and gojo finally turned his head.

that feeling as his gaze fell upon yours beneath the blindfold was familiar—frighteningly so—and unfamiliar at the same time. as if he could breathe for the first time in ages. your eyes are unaware, but they’re so revealing to him.

satoru stuttered in his movements, reluctantly taking your hand. the skin that touched yours felt like it was on fire. he briefly held on to see if you felt it too.

but you simply smiled up at him.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo,” you said, blissfully unaware of the revelation currently dawning on the man before you and the turmoil it brought as he abruptly retracted his arm back.

gojo stiffened. he merely offered a curt nod before turning on heel and walking away briskly. he could faintly hear yaga protest about his sudden departure before apologizing to you hastily. satoru shook his head.

how was this be possible? how could the universe give him two soulmates? he didn’t even know that was a thing that could happen. he wondered if there had been a similar occurrence before.

gojo couldn’t help but feel nauseous. was this the world playing some sort of sick, cruel joke on him? or was it perhaps giving him a second chance?

and truthfully, it wasn’t like gojo even wanted another soulmate. not after what he had been through with suguru. he hadn’t given it much thought.

was it really worth it?

what if he couldn’t protect you too?

so satoru had decided on one thing that day: the blindfold stays on. concealing his eyes from the world not only for him, but for your sake too. he was certain in his choice; he would never tell you the truth.

as far as you were concerned, you haven’t met your soulmate yet.

and never will.

your first meeting with gojo wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t something you could describe as good either. you’ve been left with the impression that he’s cocky and indifferent.

and that he doesn’t like you.

it’s been around.. two? three weeks? it’s been a while since your encounter with the white-haired sorcerer, and you’ve only seen a few glimpses of him here and there on campus.

okay, he doesn’t display any outright mean or ill intention towards you. on the very rare times the two of you do interact, he is obviously curt and clipped. seems like he’s deemed you worthy of the only either nods or one word responses.

you’ve yet to actually participate in a lesson or mission with gojo, but you prefer it that way. providing individual training and advice for the upcoming second years has been going great. at this point, you’re sure it’d only be awkward.

besides, the strongest sorcerer alive doesn’t necessarily need assistance in dealing with curses after all. that much is understandable.

you’re currently in the teachers’ lounge room with nanami. even though he isn’t actually a teacher, he pays visits sometimes. he’s good company anyway.

“it’s nice to hear that you’re settling in well,” the blonde says with a nod. he loosens his necktie absentmindedly as he adjusts the newspaper in his lap. “especially with that gojo around. he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

you frown at the mention of the sorcerer, crossing your arms. you’re seated across from nanami, watching him idly look through the newspaper.

“oh, well, actually, he isn’t too much trouble. for me, at least,” you reply, brows furrowing, “he barely talks to me.” (in fact, he seems to avoid you like you’re carrying the plague or something.)

nanami looks up, raising a brow. “huh. you should be grateful then.” he then hums, “but maybe that’ll change once there’s actually new first year students to teach. you both are assigned to them after all.”

you lean back in your seat, your shoulders committing to a halfhearted shrug. “maybe. it’s not like i never did anything bad to him though..”

nanami sighs gruffly. “don’t think about it too much.” before he can continue, there’s the sound of footsteps. nanami brings his newspaper back up, muttering, “speak of the devil.”

“nanamiiii!” gojo’s voice sounds from around the corner. it almost startles you how lively he sounds. you realize you’ve never actually heard or seen how he acts without you around.

nanami doesn’t respond, rolling his eyes.

gojo strolls in enthusiastically, blindfold on. “heyy, nanami, we should-” he cuts off when he presumably sees you, falling quiet and stopping short.

you blink, a bit hurt. does he dislike you that much? but you don’t let it show, resorting to greeting him politely like you usually do when you occasionally pass each other.

“good afternoon, gojo,” you muse, offering a little wave.

nanami notices his reaction too, but doesn’t comment on it. he continues to ignore the sorcerer’s presence in fact, eyes still roaming over the newspaper.

gojo clears his throat and resumes his pace. “afternoon,” he responds, focusing his attention back on nanami. he reaches the two of you, giving you no further acknowledgment.

you don’t care if he can see you looking at him, you opt to stare at the black blindfold covering his face. you have a hunch that he can see, or at least feel, you staring at him.

“can i borrow you for a sec, nanami?”

nanami emits an exasperated sigh, but stands nonetheless to follow gojo out of the room for some discussion not meant for your ears apparently, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

do you make gojo uncomfortable? you don’t know what you could’ve possibly done so though. from what you’ve heard from the others, he can be rather eccentric and overbearing.

does he just not like you? perhaps he views you as inferior, too below his level and power to actually converse with you. while it seems a bit of a stretch, you’re sure it’s not out of the possibility also based on what you’ve heard about him from others.

your frown returns. before you can dwell on it any longer, nanami comes back into the room. “well, i certainly see what you mean from what you said about gojo earlier,” he announces.

his words do nothing to falter your frown. “right.” you then shrug once more, “it’s okay. it’s just a bit.. strange.” you then shake your head, trying to be a bit optimistic. “but also like you said earlier, that might change! who knows?”

who knows, indeed.

megumi tucks the cursed tools inside their designated box and closes the lid. he moves on to the next one right as gojo enters the shed, beaming a smile.

“hey, megumi. you almost done wrapping up things here?” satoru asks, undoing his blindfold naturally. there’s a pair of glasses in his hand ready for use.

the teen nods. they had used a few cursed tools during training session today, and the storage did need a bit of tidying up. “almost done.”

satoru makes a noise of approval as he places his glasses on. “great! do you need help setting up your dorm room?” he looks excited at the idea, still grinning.

meanwhile, megumi looks disinterested at his offer. “no thanks. i think it’ll be easy enough. it’s not like i’m decorating it anyway.”

“oh, boo.” but gojo doesn’t insist on it any further. he actually falls strangely quiet, which causes megumi to glance at him curiously.

his teacher looks.. distraught. it’s hard to actually tell, but he seems to be looking at the floor, maybe lost in thought. before megumi can say anything, gojo’s expression changes and he starts talking again.

“you’re, uh, with the new teacher for tomorrow,” gojo then informs. he shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks at the floor absentmindedly. (he’s fidgeting. subtly.) “it’ll just be you two, i think, on a small mission. so they can get used to actually working with students on field. it’ll be good for the both of you.”

megumi nods. he tilts his head afterward. “you can say their name, you know. it won’t kill you,” he says a bit pointedly, “and they’re not technically new anymore. it has been a few weeks now since they’ve joined the school.”

“right, right.” megumi’s face scrunches up as gojo’s hand comes down to ruffle his hair gently. (a habit that has not died since his younger days.) “whatever you say, megumi.”

despite your minimal interactions and his rather closed off demeanor, megumi is actually one of your favorite students. (and yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have favorites, but oh well.)

your mission with megumi, or rather, the mission you’ve been assigned to supervise the student on, is rather simple.

there’s been reports of a low grade curse roaming the premises of a supermarket neighboring a nearby cemetery, so megumi is to obviously exorcise it under your watch. the area has been closed off with a small veil. megumi had decided to check the parking lot first for any lingering traces, so here you are.

“i think we’re good here,” the teenager confirms as his demon dogs return to his feet, seemingly in the clear. you nod and let him lead the way towards the inside of the store.

as the two of you begin to walk down each aisle with one of the demon dogs trailing behind, megumi says your name in an inquisitive tone. “what do you think of gojo-sensei?”

the sudden question has you blinking in surprise. your eyes scan megumi as you both continue to trek down the aisle. “what makes you ask?”

“no reason.” he doesn’t meet your gaze.

you bite down on your lip in contemplation. you’re not sure what brings this question to mind for him, but you’re willing to indulge him for now. “well.. i think he’s.. alright.” you pause. “as a sorcerer, i admire his strength. though, i think a lot of people think that obviously.”

“and as a person?” megumi presses, turning to investigate the next aisle. he still doesn’t glance over to you, still preoccupied with searching for the curse.

(hell, for a teenager, he sure is perceptive.)

you choose your words carefully, thinking it over with a brief pause.

“i’ll admit, i don’t think i know him well enough to be sure. as a person, i think he’s.. self-centered and rude. sometimes, i see him act very carefree in a way. he’s.. obscure, i guess.” you clear your throat and reiterate, “but again, i don’t really... know him.”

you can see megumi go over your words silently. the quiet continues. the conversation seems to be dying, but it doesn’t matter when monstrous gurgling sounds up ahead.

a curse appears in front of you, the shelving of the aisles toppling over as it gargles some unintelligible roar. megumi doesn’t hesitate, using his technique to summon his demon dogs once more to swiftly engage in combat.

the fight is easily handled in three minutes top. (they weren’t kidding when they said it’d be easy.)

after the commotion has settled, you allow megumi to do one more check up around the store just in case. just as you are prepared to exit and bring down the veil, you decide it’s your turn to ask him now.

“and what about you, megumi?” you inquire lightly, giving one of the demon dogs a few head pats for their good work. “what exactly do you think of gojo?”

megumi hums.

“i agree with most of what you said actually,” he answers honestly, causing you to chuckle in amusement. the teenager tilts his head and finally looks at you. “but i also think he’s kind when he wants to be.”

his frontward honesty surprises you once more. this kid sure is something. you believe his words; he has no reason to lie to you, especially about gojo of all things. still, you poke at him teasingly, “really now?”

you don’t really expect him to answer, but then megumi says in a mumble so quiet that you nearly miss it.

“well, he did sort of raise me after all.”

“i just don’t think he likes me, shoko,” you puff out a sigh, watching as she puffs out smoke. “i’ve seen the way he is around other people, and he’s not like that with me.”

she’s on break right now, so you thought you could talk to her about a certain blindfolded sorcerer who’s been plaguing your thoughts.

it’s interesting to hear about the different sides of gojo satoru from your peers. from nanami, you’ve learned that he’s pretentious and troublesome. from megumi, that he can be caring in his own way. and shoko?

“he’s crazy.” the doctor waves her cigarette at you with a shrug of her shoulders. “but it beats me on why he doesn’t particularly like you.”

you groan, slouching in one of the chairs set up in the infirmary. “maybe i should’ve stayed in kyoto,” you mumble. it’s more of a joke than anything; your.. weird terms with gojo isn’t enough to actually deter you.

but shoko puts the cigarette back to her lips and tilts her head. “want me to ask him about it?”

you straighten your posture abruptly and look at her. “what? you don’t have to. he might think i asked you to or something.”

she shrugs again. “your call.”

your brows furrow. “maybe we just got off on the wrong foot somehow. even though all i did was shake his hand.” you snort. “maybe i can get him something to break the ice. what does he like?”

shoko doesn’t even hesitate. “sweets. he likes his sweets.”

oh. oh, okay! you blink and nod. who would’ve thought? the strongest sorcerer in the world likes sweets. “i can handle sweets.”

you, in fact, cannot handle sweets.

why are there so many? you’re at a local bakery staring at the rows and rows of pastries they have on display, looking as if you’re trying the decipher the world’s hardest math problem.

shoko never specified what kind of sweets he liked during your conversation with her a couple days ago. cake? ice cream? cookies? you might as well buy the whole damn store at this point with your luck. the last thing you want is to buy him something he won’t actually eat.

“oh, fuck it,” you mutter and finally decide on a small piece of cake. it happens to be your favorite kind of cake, but oh well. if he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it! it’s the thought that matters anyway, right?

as you exit the shop with your newly acquired dessert, you try to devise a way to give it to him. do you just.. hand it to him? or maybe it’ll be better to leave it in his office. or have shoko give it to him!

ughh, who knew how hard it’d be to give a man a cake? okay, okay. you’ll simply give it to him in person since he’ll know it’s directly from you. problem solved.

well, actually, problem is not solved. how are you supposed to give the cake to gojo in person when you have absolutely no clue where he is right now? after returning to the school, he’s no where to be found, so you eventually turn to yaga for help.

“he’s on a mission where??”

you stare at yaga with wide eyes as he names some city so far away you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to find an affordable ride to get you there in a reasonable amount of time.

“oh, alright,” you say, feeling a little disappointed. the cake suddenly feels a little too big and heavy in your hands.

the principal’s gaze flickers down to your little intended treat for his former student. “these kinds of missions are no trouble for satoru. i’m sure he’ll be back soon, so you can leave that in his office.”

you brighten up at that and nod. “thank you, yaga.” you then dismiss yourself with a polite bow after he informs you where gojo’s office is exactly, and you start to make your way there.

it’s only a few minutes until you get there. you open the door and catch sight of a desk. it looks rather plain, which is understandable since it doesn’t seem like he uses this space often. (though, there is a chair that looks more expensive than your entire rent.)

either way, you walk inside and set the container down on the desk with a small sigh. hopefully the gesture is appreciated! if he really does have a sweet tooth like shoko says, you’re not sure why he’d turn it down. again, you can only hope.

you sigh again and turn to leave when the sound of the door creaking open sounds again. you freeze in place when it swings out fully, revealing the very man you were thinking about.

(yaga was not kidding when he said that gojo finishes his missions pretty fast.)

gojo perks up at the sight of you in his office, and even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s got a surprised look on his face. “can i help you.. or do you have a reason on why you’re snooping around in my office?” he inquires, walking in.

while not evidently hostile, his appearance and words suddenly have you anxious. “oh, well, i-’’ you want to mentally smack yourself for fumbling over your words. “i’m sorry for intruding. i, uh, just wanted to leave you a little something.”

it’s only then does gojo look past you and makes a small noise. you can’t really decipher it, but you watch as he walks by you to open the small packaging to see the slice of cake meant for him.

and when he makes a small noise again, you can tell it’s one of delight. “you got me.. cake?” he asks, looking to you again questioningly.

“i did,” you clarify with a small nod, summoning a small smile and rubbing the back of your neck a bit sheepishly, “i didn’t know what kind of sweet you would like, so i just ended up choosing my favorite cake. um, i really hope you don’t mind the flavor, but if you don’t you really don’t have to eat it so-”

“kikufuku.”

you stare at him, confused. “what?”

“kikufuku,” satoru reiterates, and it’s his turn to smile. (it nearly catches you off guard because although very small, it’s pretty.) “s’my favorite. or.. one of my favorite sweets. crepes are good too.”

his newfound friendliness has you smiling a bit more evidently, pleased that this interaction is your most pleasant one with him so far in the weeks you’ve been here. “oh, okay,” you chuckle, “noted.”

gojo opens the container and unwraps the plastic fork that had came with it. he takes a bite of the cake and hums in approval. “can see why it’s your favorite. it’s not bad.”

your face lightens up at that. “oh, i’m glad.”

he hums, popping another slice of cake into his mouth. “any particular reason on why you’ve decided to give me cake, if i may ask?”

you falter once more, now nervous in telling that you’re hoping to.. resolve this one-sided tension with you. ultimately, you decide to be straightforward, inhaling deeply and looking at him. (well, his blindfold.)

“well, i’m not an idiot, gojo. you haven’t exactly been.. friendly to me. i’m not trying to win you over or anything, but if we’re going to work together with the first year students, consider this a gift for a truce. or um, a peace offering so we can act somewhat decent with each other.”

the white-haired sorcerer falls silent at your confrontation. you’re half expecting him to brush you off and walk out of the room entirely. especially since he seems to have stiffen up (similarly to the way when you first met, you had noticed).

he seems to contemplate for a bit. you don’t know where he’s looking at; the floor, the cake in his hands, you? it’s suddenly nerve-wracking.

“you’re right,” he finally speaks up, “i.. i’m sorry for my previous behavior towards you. can we start over?” he places the cake aside and walks back over to you to hold out his hand.

“gojo satoru.”

your eyes flicker to his blindfold to his hand, then back to where his eyes are hidden underneath. the rumored powerful and breaktaking six eyes concealed from your ever so curious sight.

against your better judgment, you repeat your name and take his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo.”

your new relationship with gojo is steadily becoming better. he’s no longer curt with you, and actually engages in conversations even with no other people around.

though, you can’t help but feel like he’d avoiding looking at you for some reason. which is pretty far off since you can’t technically see where he’s looking, but it’s a hunch you have nonetheless.

but hey, it’s progress, progress that you’re somewhat happy about.

like now, as satoru leans over your shoulder to peer at the clipboard in your hands. you’ve just finished wrapping up a lesson with the soon-to-be second years out on the field.

“ooh, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow, teach?” he pries.

“assistant teach,” you remind him teasingly, going over the contents of the clipboard. “more sparring. oh, and the registration for that new first year.”

“the one from the countryside?” gojo hums.

you nod. “yep. a.. kugasaki nobara. we won’t actually get to meet her, but arrangements for her arrival are getting finalized.”

“oh, boo. s’just more paperwork,” the sorcerer beside you whines, kicking at the grass.

“at least megumi isn’t the only one now,” you point out and finally turn to him.

just as you expected, satoru glances away to look at panda and toge finishing up. you squint at him narrowly but don’t comment on it.

“that’s true. not like that kid cares anyway, but it’ll be good for him,” gojo agrees airily, shoving his hands into his pockets.

you eye him. “hey, gojo?”

“yeah?” his head remains turned to the students. (further proving your point! you feel like you’re collecting evidence here; the gojo satoru cannot look at you in the eye!)

you hesitate. “wanna grab some kikufuku?”

he perks up at that. (like a puppy, really. it almost makes you laugh.) “mm, whatever happened to not trying to win me over with sweets?” he teases.

you laugh at that then, shaking your head in soft denial. “no- that’s not what i-”

“well, you did said kikufuku.." satoru interrupts you with a dramatic sigh and heave of his shoulders, “so how could i ever possibly resist?”

satoru doesn’t dare to look down at you.

“care to join me?”

but you smile up at him cheekily, and he hates the way the sunlight is hitting your features just right. it looks like the color of your eyes is glistening.

you’re just.. lying down on the grass of one of the training fields, admiring the drifting formations of white clouds on the blue canvas that is the sky.

satoru keeps telling himself that shouldn’t be doing this. his first mistake was accepting your cake. allowing himself to get closer to you. but when you look at him like that, he feels like he can do anything. which is odd, becaues really, he can do anything. it goes without saying as his status as the strongest.

but with you, it’s starting to feel a bit different.

when he doesn’t give you an immediate answer, you tilt your head and continue to blink up at him. “you can see the sky even with your blindfold on, right?”

he snorts. “yeah, i can.”

you pat the space on the grass next to you welcomingly, a beckoning that he just can’t resist again. “well, come on and join me,” you persist.

he hesitates, shifting his weight on his legs for a moment. against his better judgement, he joins you. it’s surprisingly comfortable, he finds, as he kicks out his legs and sighs.

it’s a comfortable silence that it’s almost startling. how easy it is just to be around you. (which is the exact reason why he had been avoiding you in the start, in fear of slipping up around you. he still might.)

“you get headaches, right? if you don’t cover your eyes.”

he chuckles at your question. “yeah.” it’s a half truth, half lie. he does get headaches, but for another reason now. you can’t get out of his head. (he’s got a suspicious feeling it’s because the soulmate bond is incomplete. but again, that’s just a theory of his.)

“‘m’sorry. that sucks.” you pout subconscously, still looking up at the sky to admire it.

he scoffs fondly, clapsing his hands over his stomach. “it’s no biggie. you think headaches can take down gojo satoru?”

“hey now, tough guy. they can take down me sometimes.”

(he’d fight off headaches from you if he could.) his heart is thudding against his ribcage, warning him. but he doesn’t heed the warning, and continues to lay down with you on the grass.

it’s a nice feeling. he doesn’t feel like the greatest sorcerer in the world with his colleague. it feels like he’s just satoru, pointing out the different shapes and animals you can spot in the sky with his soulmate.

“hey, that one looks like you!”

“hah?!”

“i’m guessing you and gojo-sensei are getting along now,” megumi bluntly comments.

it catches you off guard slightly, and you can’t help but laugh. (of course he had noticed how the both of you interacted from the beginning.) “oh, uh, yeah.”

and as you watch satoru go down the steps of the stairs to head over to you both whilst waving an arm with much more enthusiam than needed, you can’t help but smile.

“yeah, we are.”

this is a mistake. he shouldn’t be doing this.

but satoru can’t help but be so selfish, selfish in indulging in your looks, in your scarce touches. when you had confronted him with your peace offering as you had so called it, he had given in.

and now he’s spending more time with you. be it after lessons with the students, on random days where you have nothing to do, during weekends when there’s no authorities to bother him—he can’t help it.

was it the bond wanting to be complete? you were still unaware of his true identity, of what he could possibly mean to you, so why does he feel like he needs to be so close? he gets antsy at times when you’re not in his sight. it’s starting to affect him.

the soulmate bond, or lack of it—that has to be the only explanation for it. because he knows that you’re his soulmate, he’s subconsciously drawn to you and your presence. (it’s definitely not because he likes the way you smile, or laugh, or-)

fuck.

after a relatively tough mission, you’re obviously sent to see shoko. you’re not fatally harmed, maybe a scratch here and there. and okay, maybe a gash on your shoulder..

it had been enough to sort of knock you off your feet, but you’re fine. totally. exorcising a semi grade two curse at 1 a.m. in the morning was no biggie at this point.

once she’s finished tending to your wound, she dusts off her hands and places them on her hips. “you’re all set.”

you smile gratefully. “thanks, sho. can always count you to patch me up.”

she snorts. “well, it is my job.”

gojo suddenly appears right next to the table and you yelp, startled by his teleportation. shoko, on the other hand, looks unfazed, as if she’s used to this.

“gojo!” you blink, your voice taking a scolding tone soon after, “geez, you scared me! what’re you still doing awake??”

the blindfolded man falters, looking apologetic. “sorry. heard you got back from your mission.” he sounds worried, but before he can voice his concern, shoko rolls her eyes.

“they’ll be fine,” she says.

gojo’s shoulders finally drop down and he plays off his previous display of concern with a laugh. “ahaha, yeahhh, i knew that,” he scoffs with a wave of his hand, “i can’t bless you two with my presence?”

shoko gives him a displeased look before she turns around to tidy up her tools. you chuckle at her annoyance. “thanks for checking up on me, satoru,” you say sincerely. your eyes go over his appearance; he’s dressed more casually: a pair of dark slacks and shirt that expose his collarbones. not that you’re.. particularly looking.

but his shoulders seem tense again at your words and he hums quietly. (huh, strange. at least he’s not refusing to look at you anymore, you think.)

“well, i say this calls for a little celebration,” satoru suddenly purrs in delight, waving his hands in the air.

“celebration? for me getting kinda beat up?” you blow a raspberry at him, only for him to blow one at you right back. even though you had done it first, you can’t help but giggle at his childish antics.

he grins at that, then shakes his head. “heyy, i heard you beat up a semi grade two curse!” he says, “i think that does call for a celebration, does it not?”

you stare at him, unsure on whether he’s joking or not. wait, how did he even know that? well, maybe he had gone through the mission reports and assignments. still, you’re surprised that he knows. “you can wipe those out in less than a minute, gojo,” you point out with a raised brow, “don’t try and humor me.”

his grin lessens. “well, yeah, s’kinda easy for me, but i think that goes without saying. you’re telling me don’t wanna celebrate an accomplishment of yours?”

you look to shoko who is almost finished with cleaning up. she just shrugs. you look back to satoru and shrug yourself whilst rolling your eyes. “alright, we can celebrate.”

gojo fist bumps the air. and here you are again, giggling at him.

eventually, when he leads you out of the infirmary and to the teachers’ lounge. he digs through one of the fridges and hands you a bottle of what seems to be alcohol.

“i didn’t even know this was allowed here,” you mumble, settling down on what of the high chairs near the counter. you wiggle in your seat to get comfortable as gojo takes the one next to you.

you offer it to him but he shakes his head, nose scrunching up a little. “i don’t drink.”

“wasn’t this your idea?” you blink. “suit yourself, more for me.” you shrug and open the bottle to pour yourself a glass. and another. and another. and then another.

(you don’t know what particularly drives you to keep drinking as you talk with him, but perhaps it’s the way you know that satoru’s eyes are lingering just underneath the blindfold. you can practically feel his stare.)

and gojo watches you gradually drink yourself to being mildly drunk.

“okay, no more for you,” he laughs as he takes the bottle away from you and holding it above your head when you try to reach for it.

“awh, man.” you pout and rest your head on your arms on the table, looking at him the best you can. “you meanie. you got me drunk on purpose. give it back.”

he snickers, amused and endeared by your drunk antics as he pushes the bottle aside. “sorry. you’ll thank me later, pretty.”

pretty. he’s never called you that before. you wanna hear him say it again. (amongst some other things.)

“pretty.. you’re pretty. i bet your eyes are pretty too,” you say into your sleeve, your other hand reaching out to his blindfold, “everyone else says they’re v’ry pretty.”

he leans back to avoid your hand, heart pounding in his chest a little too loud for his liking. he wonders if you can hear it. “sure. i guess they are,” he says softly with a small chuckle.

“i wonder who my soulmate is,” you then mumble out. maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s your incoherent slurring, but you sound.. sad.

before he can dwell on it, you’re slurring out another question that has come to your head.

“d’you have a soulmate?”

satoru’s eyes widen under the blindfold. he knows that you’re drunk. that you’re just saying things. but your hazy eyes stare up at him with a glint that makes his heart lurch.

and you won’t remember a thing in the morning, right?

before he can answer, you’re out like a light.

you wake up in the morning with a splitting headache.

with a groan, you sit up in what seems to be a bed that seems way to be to be your own, legs kicking the sheets that had been draped over you in alarm.

you have no idea where you are, but there’s a glass of water along with some painkillers on the nightstand beside you, which you down gratefully. there’s also the smell of food coming from outside the room.

you can piece two and two together that you’re probably in the home of someone you know.. your brain racks for information of what had happened last night but it’s only causing it to ache even more.

gojo.

you shake your head and make your way to what seems to be the bathroom to tidy yourself up. you notice that your’re still clad in your clothes of last night, so gojo had done the courtesy of tucking you in.

after you’re done, you take a deep breath and head outside.

you navigate your way down the hallway and follow the smell of food. as you turn the corner, you catch the sight of satoru in the kitchen. not that you doubted that the greatest sorcerer could cook, but for some reason, he looks so domestic.

he’s simply wearing sweats and a loose fitting shirt, your back turned to you as he tends to the stove, but the mere sight of it has your heart leaping into your throat. you have a feeling that it’s a sight meant for you, for you to see.

you don’t no how long you stand there, but suddenly a laugh rings through the kitchen from satoru teasingly. “take a picture, sweetheart, it’ll last longer.”

you yelp, embarrassed. (sweetheart? you try not to think about it, but you hate the way it makes your heart leap again. he’s just.. messing with you.) “erm.. sorry. good morning, gojo.” you approach the kitchen and take a seat at the counter.

when he finally turns to you, he’s not wearing his usual black blindfold, but instead what seems to be white bandages. you haven’t seen it on him before, but you don’t comment on it though.

he says good morning back before serving you some food, which you thank him for gratefully. “thank you for the painkillers too. i didn’t do anything embarrassing last night, did i?” you inquire, half jokingly.

you try to remember what had happened last night, but your memories are still a bit hazy. all you can recall is talking with him about things and staring at him. (you’re not going to tell him that though.)

“nah,” he waves off, “just told me your darkest secrets, s'all.”

you straighten up. “what?”

“kidding, kidding!” he snickers.

you groan and drag your plate to you. “i didn’t know you could cook.”

satoru looks mildly offended, emitting a dramatic gasp as he waves the spatula at you in a petulant manner. “hey now, i’m no expert. but i can at least make some sort of breakfast.”

(he totally did not look up a tutorial on how to cook for you. definitely not. but he’s a natural at everything, so at least his naturally gifted skill is in his favor this time.)

“thank you, gojo.” a smile tugs at the edges of your mouth.

“satoru.”

“what?”

“c’mon, you’re literally eating breakfast in my kitchen,” he laughs, sliding a mug of coffee (probably with extra cream and sugar because it’s gojo) towards you across the counter. “satoru’s fine.”

you test the name on your tongue, paying little attention to the way it makes the man before you stiffen up as you grab the coffee. “satoru.. thanks, satoru.” you think you can get used to saying that.

(he does too.)

satoru turns away back to the stove. “you’re welcome.”

“hey satoru, what did you say what you wanted again? i’m thinking bubble tea but i dunno..”

he likes the way his name sounds from you.

“uh, satoru? satoru? helloo, earth to gojo satoru? satoru!”

oh.

fuck, he hadn’t realized he had spaced out. gojo lifts his head in a sudden motion, making a surprised noise. he smiles sheepishly. “what’s up?”

“you feeling alright, satoru?” you tilt your head.

keep saying his name.

“awhh, i’m feeling more than alright, sweetheart.” he shoots you a grin, liking the way your eyes reflect the café lights, giving it a warm hue. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“you seem to be in a good mood lately,” megumi points out. ijichi, in the front see, looks at the two of them through the rear view in silent agreement.

(a lot of people have noticed actually.)

gojo pauses, halfway through unwrapping the plastic of a popsicle. it’s the same one he used to consume during his youth, but his taste really hasn’t changed after all this time. “oh?”

the teenager eyes him narrowly. “yeah.”

gojo merely hums and pops the icy treat into his mouth.

“heh, i guess i am.”

you can hear gojo and shoko’s voices coming from the infirmary, causing you to smile absentmindedly. you didn’t think you’d be enjoying their company this much in the recent months—especially satoru’s.

(strangely, it feels so natural to be around him, you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same. you try to write it off as spending so much time together for a while now, but you can’t lie when you say he doesn’t make the stomach churn with butterflies.)

you turn the corner and announce your presence to the two with a smile and wave. you catch sight of them when they glance over to you, noticing something different.

shoko is wearing her usual white coat with a cigarette in hand, but she’s got her hair tied up in a rare bun to keep any strands from her face.

but that’s not what’s different as your gaze strays to the man next to her, the familiar frame of gojo catching you a bit off guard.

he’s wearing his glasses.

you’ve never seen him wear anything but his blindfold.

how does he look even more breathtaking than without it? you can’t see his eyes still, no—it’s a deep, deep shade of blue that still blocks his gaze from anyone else. but it’s a more casual look, seeing as his hair isn’t being help up and a few strands fall down and you can see his sharp facial features a bit more and-

and then he’s gone.

you audibly make a sound of confusion and hurt, because one moment he’s there and the next he’s no where to be seen. he had vanished without a single world.

he’s fucking avoiding you again; the realization of it makes your throat close up. after all you had been through with satoru.

“what the fuck was that?”

shoko stares at the space gojo had just been standing, just as lost as you.

there’s a distance between the two of you again. it’s painstakingly familiar to when you had first met gojo and he had kept himself strictly professional with you.

and you don’t know why.

it’s back to the cold shoulder from him; you’re seeing him less and less around campus, and those times where you did hang out off duty are practically a thing of the past now.

satoru is going to be the death of you one day, you’re sure of it.

and you and satoru aren’t even.. a thing.

then again, you’re not even sure what you are. you’re friends, yes, that’s much more than clear, but why does it feel so much more intimate than that despite the fact that the two of you have never even done anything?

however.. a part of you knows that you want more. more of those days lying in the grass with him, more of those mornings eating breakfast with him in his home, more of those afternoon café runs, more of everything with satoru.

is that why does it hurts so much now that he’s pushed you away again?

satoru is praying that you’re not in there with shoko as he approaches the infirmary a week later. she had called him over, and though he could’ve easily refused, he found himself obliging anyway.

“hey, what was that the other day?”

shoko is blunt and straight to the point once he arrived, striking him with a petulant and expectant gaze with her tired eyes.

gojo blinks innocently, tilting his head at shoko. “what was what?”

shoko then rolls her eyes. “you know what i’m talking about. what was that. you just- walked out like they we’re going to kill you or something.”

that’s the thing. you just might.

the white-haired man frowns and continues to feign innocence. he’s starting to wonder why he bothered coming here. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

his avoidance causes shoko to frown as well and she crosses her arms. “you’re doing the same thing that you did with them when they first joined here.”

when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “avoiding them, pushing them away. i thought you didn’t have any problems with them. at this point, make up your mind because you’re just toying with their feelings and it’s not going to-”

“we’re soulmates,” satoru blurts out.

shoko is cut off, staring at him all wide-eyed for once. “you’re kidding.”

satoru falters. “i’m not. s’why i always wear the blindfold. and that’s why i.. i ran last night. just my glasses was too risky.”

what if he had angled his head the wrong way, what if you saw his eyes, what if you finally realized that you were fated to be together at the whims of the universe? he couldn’t do that to you.

“how long have you-”

“since we first met. i.. i could see it because of six eyes,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know why. i didn’t think i could have another one after-”

the two fall quiet at the mention of suguru, a heavy feeling hanging in the air between them.

“what are you going to do?” shoko asks quietly.

satoru sounds wrecked. “..i don’t know.”

“well.” shoko smushes her cigarette against the surface of the metal table. “you better do something before it’s too late.”

unfortunately, the higher ups have also noticed.

(the push and pull that has been going on between the pride of the gojo clan and a random transferred sorcerer from kyoto. nothing goes unseen by their tight hold on jujutsu society.)

and you are none the wiser when you’re an assigned a mission late so at night, at a secluded edge of tokyo. you would’ve questioned it, but after looking over the details, it seems easy enough since it was a low level curse.

ijichi drops you off near the location and bids you luck. the night is dark, with the shape of the moon only peaking out every now and then due to the clouds to offer minimum light, and then the veil is coming up.

it’s fine though, as you start walking to get this over with. the faster, the better.

what the fuck? the cursed energy here is much stronger than you had anticipated, almost as if it’s suffocating. now uneasy, you continue your search with more caution.

a low growl sounds from somewhere behind you, and you turn on heel to brace yourself in case the curse decides to catch you off guard with an unexpected attack.

your heart drops.

it’s a grade one curse.

something’s not right.

satoru can feel it. he can sense it in the air. something is lingering, a presence that makes even him feel uneasy, and he doesn’t know why. nothing makes him feel uneasy. but it’s a gut feeling, it’s the bond tugging and tugging and-

you.

something’s not right.

and then gojo is teleporting and finding ijichi in record time, giving the poor man a scare. gojo’s voice is on edge and leaves no room for argument as he demands the assistant director where he had driven you minutes prior. the veil still stands, undisturbed.

fuck, fuck, fuck- shoko was right. he should’ve done something before it was too late, because now it might actually be too late as he steps through the veil.

it’s too quiet for his liking, but the lingering silence only lasts for a few heartbeats before he hears you scream.

you’re going to die.

you don’t want to think that, but you’re definitely not going to make it out of this unscathed as you dodge the curse’s scarily accurate attacks, as if it knows where you’re going to move and land.

the curse screeches out something ugly, and you’re too stunned to react in time as one of its malformed limbs swings down with a speed that you can’t comprehend.

your throat cries for help even as the air out of your lungs, but then there’s the sudden brilliant flash of red that blinds your vision.

satoru?

you can’t see and your body aches everywhere while the sounds of the curse fade out. it’s replaced by the sound of someone speaking frantically. it is satoru as he crouches down at you, hands coming to lift you up gently. his infinity is off. “hey, hey it’s me,” he voices, “it’s me, sweetheart.”

satoru, it’s satoru. satoru is here.

you emit a sigh of relief, cloudy vision gradually focusing. you try and focus it on satoru, tracing over his features repeatedly, trying to engrave it into your memory.

“shit. those damn higher ups,” gojo grits his teeth into an angered scowl. the higher ups? were they behind this? you don’t know, but you know that you’ve ever seen him this furious before. “i am going to rip those old geezers apart limb from li-”

“satoru, we need to head back.”

he looks dazed, tufts of snowy hair now hanging a bit loosely over his blindfold compared to when it’s normally pushed upright. he even sounds dazed, the great gojo satoru, when he says, “yeah. yeah, okay.”

he’s holding on to you tight and suddenly everything seems to get blurry for less than a second before you blink. you realize he’s teleported you both not to the school, not to shoko’s infirmary, but to his penthouse.

the interior is at least familiar: white walls, a little messy, a couple of decorations, and—

“my place,” he clarifies, as if he had read your thoughts. he sets you down on his couch, uncaring if you’re staining the color of the cushions. but he doesn’t let go, hands still cradling your form so tight that you don’t know if you’re still shaking or that he is.

“are you okay?” you utter out weakly and scan him for any injuries while clutching at his arms, which is ridiculous because he’s untouchable. but you’re not in the right mind right now, and you have a feeling he isn’t either.

“i should be the one asking you that,” he retorts, and you also have the feeling he’s doing the same thing with you with the help of his six eyes.

“i’m alright,” you try to reassure him with a small shake of your head. it only aids you in wincing, but the pain is the last thing on your mind. especially with him here. “it’s fine.”

“it’s not fine,” he argues, his hold tightening even more on you, if that was even possible. is that a slight tremor in his voice? “you almost died.”

“and why do you care?” it’s not a malicious question from you. it’s more of confusion, of genuine. after all you’ve been through with satoru, you’re not sure where he stands. what he feels.

he seems startled by your question, like he can’t believe you could ask such a thing. “of course i care! why-”

you clench your fists in your lap, eyes tracing over his face repeatedly. “i don’t know what you want anymore from me, satoru! you’re not- you’re not telling me the truth.”

“i didn’t want to hurt you,” he tells you hoarsely. god, you wish you could see what he’s thinking. what’s going on in that head of his.

“you did hurt me.”

gojo trembles. “i know.”

“you seem to know a lot of things.” your voice sounds tired. your hand goes to rest on his chest, where you can faintly feel his heartbeat underneath. (oh, to be the only one who can touch gojo satoru like this.) “what are you hiding from me?”

“i can’t hide anything from you.” he draws a slow intake of breath. he then whispers,

“but how am i supposed to tell you that we’re soulmates?”

your heart skips a beat.

gojo satoru is your soulmate?

astonished, you now stare at him with wide eyes. “why- why didn’t you tell me??” you ask, voice cracking. to think, all this time, your soulmate had been right there, right beside you, right in front of you.

then it all clicks. his off-standish behavior, his reluctant interactions, his avoidance. his blindfold. he didn’t want you to see his eyes.

he’s known all this time somehow—and oh, oh. his six eyes. your lips part in realization as you stare hard, as if you could see his damned eyes beneath the cloth that hides you from the truth.

“i thought that if you knew that we were soulmates, you’d-” satoru shakes his head. “something always happens to the people i love.” he hesitates, “you still have a chance. you can find someone else.”

“what if i don’t want someone else??” you say out softly in protest, gripping the lapels of his uniform.

gojo shakes his head again. despite this, he doesn’t let you go. like he can’t, like he doesn’t want to. “we’re not bonded yet,” he says your name shakily. “please.”

still gripping the collar of his uniform, you tug him closer to you desperately. it’s so clear, so obvious that he wanted this.

“satoru, have you thought about what i wanted?” you breathe out, feeling tears well up in your eyes, “that maybe, there’s a chance that i want to take the risk? that i want to be bonded to you?”

your eyes flicker down to his lips momentarily. “that i want you too?”

satoru’s breath stutters.

“you haven’t seen my eyes.”

you cup satoru’s face in your hands, swiping your thumb under the space where his eye is hidden with a fierce tenderness that makes him listen.

“satoru, i didn’t need to see your eyes to fall in love with you.”

your confession has him stilling.

(all the times he had stiffened up in your presence, he had been falling for you, bit by bit. you know that now.)

his hand comes to cover yours, the one that’s still resting on his cheek, fingers smoothing over your knuckles. and then his hand continues to go up, up, up, and-

he tugs the blindfold up and over his head, revealing his eyes to you at last.

his eyes are gorgeous, a blue that seems to spill into your vision and take over your senses. a blue that you can get lost in, a blue that reminds you of the summer sky, a blue that tethers your soul to his, and you both can feel it.

the bond between you is so electrifying that you nearly forget how to breathe.

and then satoru is surging forward, closer, even closer, until your breath is his and you forget how to breathe for a whole different reason entirely.

he’s kissing you.

he kisses you like you might disappear right before him, his head angling into yours to capture your lips with a force that makes your world spin.

and you return it tenfold, one hand still cradling his face while the other sneaks to dig its fingers into his undercut, and he’s making a noise into your mouth with fervor.

you’re all too aware of his heat against you, the frantic touches he’s now giving into as he draws you closer. the surface of the sofa dissipates into nothingness and then-

suddenly he’s teleporting you both again—or maybe he’s kissing you dizzy. but you realize you’re now in space that’s not overly familiar with you, but you can tell it’s most likely his bedroom based off of the feel of the lush satin sheets underneath you.

less than an hour ago you were fighting for your life, and now you’re fighting for your life on gojo satoru’s bed.

“satoru, s’toru, wait-” you’re gasping for air, for something as he engulfs you with his presence. he’s everywhere all at once, and it feels as if the bond is intensifying everything he’s doing to you.

“nuh uh. think we’ve both waited long enough for this, baby,” he gasps against your lips, like it’s impossible to be separated from you again, “don’t know how much i wanted this, wanted you. drove me crazy.”

his words makes your head all fuzzy. you don’t even know if it’s the bond anymore, or just the way he makes you feel. maybe even both. your lungs feeling like they’re burning, but even then, you manage to get out,

“you have me, ‘toru, you have me.”

“yeah?” when he pulls back, it’s not even a few inches, his nose brushing against yours. his alluring eyes glimmer in the darkness of the room, and you’re almost so mad that you feel like kissing him again because he’s kept them from you for so long.

your hands hook over his neck again. when your fingers run over his undercut again, you can actually feel him shiver, causing you to giggle in delight. “yeah, ‘toru.”

“yeah, pretty,” he sighs out and he’s losing himself in everything that is you once more so willingly. your eyes, your very being, compels him to give you everything, so he does. “y’have me too. all of me.”

his confession rings through your ears before he’s kissing you again, kissing you breathless. it’s a blur on what happens next; feverish touches and passionate symphonies, but one thing’s for sure,

the magnetic glow of his eyes in the dark of that night is something that you’ll never forget.

as your stir amongst the tousled bedsheets, you can feel the warmth of a certain someone creeping over you, like a cozy cat searching for cuddles.

your eyes peer open to meet the blurry sight of the ceiling, along with the sight of messy white hair tickling your chin.

“good morning to you, sweetheart,” a voice says cheekily, followed by cascading kisses down your jawline, prompting you to giggle softly.

you watch sunlight spill over into the bedroom, engulfing the man above you in an angelic glow as he finally pulls back to look down at you.

so maybe you didn’t fall in love at first sight with gojo satoru.

that’s okay.

cause as you stare up into your soulmate’s pretty ceruleans in the morning light, you think you can fall in love with him like this a little more.

BONUS!

“you owe me.”

nanami drags a hand over his face as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. “this is the first and last time i make a bet with you,” he grumbles.

shoko merely smirks. “you have such little faith in gojo.”

“bet or not, can we go back to before they were together?” nanami looks like he’s close to investing in a pair of one of gojo’s glasses that can block any normal person’s vision.

satoru is clinging onto you like a sloth.

“babyyyyy,” your boyfriend whines, resting his chin on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your torso. you can’t help but giggle, endeared by his clinginess. (he had claimed it was to make up for the way he had acted in the past and for lost time.)

he’s like another part of you now. not that you mind. being his soulmate is everything and more—from the tender touches to the passionate ones, to the talks of everything: to the mundane to the serious. after all, your soul is his, and his soul is yours.

(and then his hands are sneaking off to places they shouldn’t be.)

“‘toru, not here!”

nanami heaves out another sigh as his hand comes to pinch the bridge of his nose. “is it too late to quit being a sorcerer again?”

TAGLIST : @spn-obession , @deepestartisanhumanoidshark , @scarasw1f3 , @kalopsia-flaneur , @90s-belladonna , @peachipeachy , @chrystinaamanda , @kalulakunundrum , @hunnyheavenn , @dekusdante , @dontmindmelove , @cherries-lostgirls , @rv19 , @etherealstarlightqueen

+ a/n: this fic ended up being way no longer than i expected omg.. but thanks to all who asked to be on the taglist !! some didnt work so im sorry about that </3

like this fic? feel free to go ahead and check out my other works here! -> masterlist

[chaldeanu]

golden hour ノ sunday

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 1.0k ノ fem reader — reader is sunday’s chambermaid . secret affair . boss & employee relationship ノ making out right after waking up . pulling out . he cums in your mouth ノ surprisingly domestic fluffy smut

“please, don’t get up yet. we still have some time… i can always explain if you’re late,” he murmurs into your hair, scooping your body closer.

the only reply he hears is just a soft grunt and a sigh as you let yourself be convinced. the sheets are messy, crumpled, and you already think how long it will take you to change them because of this delay.

as if sensing your mind being preoccupied with something else, sunday starts smooching you all across your head, getting closer to your face, feathery touch tickling you here and there slightly until you giggle into his lips and reciprocate the direct kiss.

there are no mornings or evenings in penacony. always an hour set by the clock, and everyone just lives around it. it’s dark behind the curtains of the guest bedroom in his office, but it’s constantly dark here, if not counting the dazzling and sparkling, shimmering spectacle of lights of the neons, billboards, lamps and other attractions the golden hour can offer.

there’s only one rule here — live to the fullest at all times. for once, the prim and proper young man tries to apply it to his own routine, risking being late just to feel your body close to his own one more time. he runs his hand across your shoulder, leaving goosebumps where he touches. then his fingers glide downwards along your side and waist until he cups your thigh and pulls your leg over himself before you can even react.

“ah…” you hum sweetly and your whole frame trembles at this movement that was meant as a casual gesture and gets turned into a pleasurable foreplay so easily.

he shifts slowly, rubbing his cock between your folds as you wrap yourself around him with every limb like ivy. resting foreheads against each other, dishevelled hair tangled together and, almost moaning out loud from your intoxicating heat and wetness, he places the tip inside.

it’s difficult not to rush. he holds onto control tightly, keeps himself contained and careful so much that sometimes it makes you want to see him break out of these walls, come undone completely with passion. this time is no different. it seems as if you could barely hear his heartbeat quickening up against your ear while you press your lips against each other sloppily. but he slides into you with caution nonetheless, enjoying every inch of you wrapping around his length.

slowly, carefully, steadily, he’s making love to you for minutes now. soft cries die out between ruffled bedsheets along with quiet slick noises of his cock dragging through your walls and pulling back in, covered with your juices. the leisurely pace is just perfect for you today — there’s no need for excitement nor to have a shattering orgasm. everything is so warm, cosy and satisfying…

and then sunday picks up the tempo abruptly.

the feeling is so sudden; it catches you off-guard. your inner walls are hugging him tightly in response to the new, rougher approach, but he doesn’t give up. now it’s the tip hitting that sensitive spot inside, which sends waves of pleasure all over your body and you have to moan out loud to release the tension.

“i… ha-aah! i thought you wanted to take it s-slow, mmh!” you pant in surprise and protest. it only makes him chuckle at first as he watches your flustered expression with interest and adjusts your hips slightly to reach even deeper.

“forgive me this time, will you, dove?”

the friction is too much to handle. what he sees is you — a quivering mess — panting faster with your eyes closed shut to deal with it. your chest heaves shakily against his own one with every huff. but he wouldn’t dare stop again when you’re reacting so intensely, not unless you tell him so.

untangling your arms from himself before he manages to pull himself up just so he can comfortably reach between your bodies and put his hand on your clit, just above the delicate flesh that now parts with each of his deep thrusts. you squeal from this stimulation at once and squirm under him, trying to hold on to his forearms.

he knows exactly how you like to be touched, never turning away his gaze from your reactions. the tender bud swells even more under his fingertips and sunday smiles watching your body jerking suddenly and reflexively with every move he makes. you’re moaning out loud as if you had no worries about being heard and he wonders if maybe he could make you scream out his name someday — but maybe not yet, not when you two shouldn’t even be in one bed.

brows furrowing with an upcoming climax, he gives some extra attention to your clit for a while until, finally, there’s no way back for you. his ears enjoy hearing you almost singing your cries of relief and pleasure, shuddering throughout your entire silhouette as it grips on him from inside and releases him with wet sticky warmth. hissing at this, he’s barely able to pull out in time and clumsily crawls up on top of you while fisting his cock above your face.

ignoring the heatwave rushing down your every nerve, you open your mouth and let him smack the tip over your tongue over and over again until a few ropes of cum fall right on it. your mind goes blank, being high on the ecstasy of the recent orgasm, and your lover milks the last drops out into your throat as you continue to gently suck on his girth.

as you’re coming to your senses and the bliss of afterglow subsides, sunday begins cleaning you and his own cock up, planting a gentle kiss on your temple with a heavy breath before sitting upright on the bed.

“would you consider not wearing me down first thing in the morning?“ you tease, but he remains silent with a distant smile, stroking your cheek as he continues cleaning your body with wet wipes he keeps on the nightstand.

“just another perk of staying here late at night,” he eventually replies, quietly, almost like an afterthought, and then proceeds to gather the clothes for another day. “i’m always waiting to see you come to tell that i should rest. just so i can hug you and take you to bed with me…” he confesses softly, the same vague, half-amused, half-wistful look in his eyes.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Secret relationship and they find out you're being transferred to a different team.

Anon...how DARE you. But really, the angst that this prompt is giving is everything. I want to warn readers now that I was not nice with this one. There is a lot of angst happening here. There is nothing spicy about it. It's all pain with a little comfort sprinkled in for a few of our boys.

(Sorry not sorry)

These are presented in four individual double drabbles.

Content & Warnings: angst, mild emotional hurt/comfort, secret relationships, yearning, heartbreak, 141!reader

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

“We’ve got two weeks!”

“Soap.”

“Can you believe that?”

“Johnny.”

Soap’s smile remains but melts slightly. “What?”

“I’m leaving.”

He chuckles. “We both are.”

You shake your head. “No. I’m leaving the team.”

Soap frowns slightly. “Retirement?” He shrugs. “Seem a bit young.” That smile returns and he saunters forward, his large hands grasping your hips. “Means we can go public.”

He leans in for a kiss, but your heart isn’t in it. Soap realizes the reluctance the moment your lips meet. “It’s something else,” he says.

You nod because that is all you can manage. Originally, Captain Price said he wanted to tell the team together, but he doesn’t know about you and Johnny. Soap needs to know first before the rest. If not, it’ll come as a blow and a betrayal. You can’t do that to him no matter what Captain Price says.

“I’m being transferred,” you murmur, voice breaking slightly.

Soap does not retreat. He rests his forehead against your own, eyes closing as he inhales. His arms slide from your hips to your back, drawing you against him.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says rubbing your back. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle enters the meeting room. It’s the last one before everyone breaks for a month.

But there is someone missing.

Laswell and Captain Price talk quietly, their heads bent in conversation. Soap is showing something to Ghost on his phone.

You are not among them. You are not in your usual spot.

Laswell glances up and Price clears his throat. “We can start.”

“Hold up, Captain. We’re missing one.”

Kyle gestures toward the chair you usually sit in and Price frowns.

“Transferred on another mission,” interrupts Laswell.

Kyle says nothing, sinking into his chair. He listens but most of it slips right out of his head. The only thing he can think about is that you’re not here and you didn’t say anything.

When Laswell and Price are finished, and everyone begins to exit, Kyle lingers, intent on talking to Price.

“Not gonna talk about our missing team member?”

“Nothing to say,” shrugs Price. “Transferred this morning.”

Kyle swallows down the emotion rising in his throat. No one knows about the two of you, and if he pushes too much, he might reveal something he shouldn’t.

“Coming back?” asks Kyle.

“Eventually,” answers Price. “Not sure when.”

Eventually. There’s hope then.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“You’re leaving.”

“Simon.”

“Did you plan on telling me?” You remain silent and Simon shakes his head. “Waiting for Price to do it?”

“That’s not true.”

Simon takes a step forward, entering your space. “I saw the transfer on his desk. I saw the date. How long have you known?”

“Does that matter?” you ask.

“Of course it does,” he snaps.

Simon is never angry, not with you. His anger is subtle which makes it more terrifying. This is something else. Simon is hurt, and you’re the cause of it.

“I’m sorry you found out like this. I planned on telling you.”

“When?” He’s closer now, towering over you.

“When I had more information.”

“More information?”

“I don’t know where I’m going or with who,” you add.

“Might not tell you until you get there. Happens all the time.”

You understand his meaning and know that Simon is right. Would you have left without telling him anything, only saying something once you’d left?

No. This thing between you might be tangled but he is the only one you want.

“Are you upset?” you ask.

Simon deflates. “Not with you.” He tugs you against him, creating a cocoon of warmth. “Never.”

John Price

The transfer papers mockingly stare at Price.

All this time, he believed he could have you without repercussion. Didn’t matter that you were another member of the team and his subordinate. You were his, and Price could protect you.

But these papers came from someone above him, and he cannot refuse them. No matter how much he wants to.

And no one knows what the two of you do when there isn’t anyone looking. But now, that’s shattered. Broken. And Price must grieve for your departure in silence. Price has already raged. He punched the wall until his knuckles bled.

After that, he walked until he came to terms with it.

You don’t know yet. You have no idea. Telling you will be the hardest part. What will happen? How will the two of you move forward? Can the secrets remain, or will it all need to be out in the open?

Price sighs and runs his hands over his face.

This is a punishment. Must be. Why else is it happening?

There is a loud knock at the door. Again, Price sighs, knowing that he has to face the reality of the situation.

You are on the other side.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving

@childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666

@unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath

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@hantheconqueror @sapphichotmess

[aperrywilliams]

That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.

Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.

Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)

Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.

A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!

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

Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.

But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.

He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.

From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.

But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.

You were extremely shy and reserved.

In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'

He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.

But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.

At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.

It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?

If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.

From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.

You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.

'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'

'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'

And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.

And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.

But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.

Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.

In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.

The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.

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

A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.

Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.

All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.

Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.

"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.

"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.

"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.

"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.

"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.

You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.

It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.

"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.

"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.

"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.

That's it—the elephant in the room.

Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...

There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.

Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.

"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.

And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.

But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.

"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.

"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.

"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.

"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.

And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.

Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.

When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.

"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.

That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.

You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.

Emily is who stops everyone's rant.

"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."

And this is how the discussion is settled.

Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.

When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.

"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"

You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.

"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."

"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.

You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.

Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."

Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.

"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.

Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."

If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.

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

You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.

Everyone has a role in the plan.

Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.

Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.

When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.

"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.

"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"

Your cheeks redens.

"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.

"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."

You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.

"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."

"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.

One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.

At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.

For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.

Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.

"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.

The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.

As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.

Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.

Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.

Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.

You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.

Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.

At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.

"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.

"Show time," you mumble to yourself.

You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.

That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.

You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.

Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.

"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.

JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.

"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."

Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.

"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."

You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.

Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.

Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.

Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.

Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.

JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.

As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.

"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.

Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.

There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.

"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.

With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.

He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.

"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.

"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.

Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.

The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.

"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.

You get closer to him to speak in his ear.

"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.

Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.

You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.

"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.

You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.

It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.

Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.

When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.

As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.

Everything that happens after is too fast.

The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.

But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.

There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.

You shyly approach him.

"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.

"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.

"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.

Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.

Everything except that kiss.

If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.

A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.

You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.

What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.

"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.

Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?

"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.

A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.

There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.

"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.

"I know," you say with some hesitation.

"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"

Now, you are the one who smirks at him.

"Evidence, huh?"

"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.

"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.

Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.

This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.

------------------ 

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[hhughes]

♯ 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐎◞ 𝑴𝑩¹³

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⤫ leclerc!sister x mat barzal

✰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⤫ in which the paddock’s favourite sister arrives at the Monaco GP with a new guest

✰ 𝐜𝐰 ⤫ none.

✰ 𝐚/𝐧 ⤫ ngl. . . this is very self indulgent 🤷‍♀️ but I hope you enjoy anyway <3

f1wags

f1wags: our favourite girl has returned to the paddock; and this time it’s with a guest! Y/N leclerc shows up to the monaco track with who I presume to be her bf, and sits down for lunch with her brothers. the first time we’ve seen the entire leclerc family together in a while since Y/N has been in New York for work.

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user15: family reunion🥺

user19: my royal family of Monaco fr

user77: I’m so happy to see them all together again. I just know Charles missed her so much🥲

user66: I read an article that said Y/N came straight from the airport so this is the first interaction they’ve had in months!

f1wags: he hugged her for a good ten minutes before he let anyone else get a chance

user51: um- are we gonna skip over the bf part??

user16: how do we know it’s her bf tho…

f1wags: they were very affectionate since the moment they got out of the together. the car that arrived from the airport, so assume he’s american and flew with her. they also kissed and it looked like he was meeting her family (charles, arthur, lozenzo, pascal) I mean we won’t know 100% until she confirms it but it sure looks like they’re together. . .

user77: nooo… my wife is taken 😔

user11: I really wanna know who her bf is tho cause I’m sorry but he’s fineeeee

user62: I expected nothing less from a leclerc sibling. they always bag the prettiest people

lando.jpg

liked by charlesleclerc, ynleclerc, matbarzal and others.

lando.jpg: boat day with the bestie(s?) 🛥️

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user23: DID HE JUST—

user65: HE DID😭😭

user21: did lando just hard launch Y/N’s relationship?

user57: yep. tagged the guy and everything💀

user66: he’s such a little menace

user22: I’m not complaining I’ve been trying to figure out who it is for days🙏 thank you lando

ynleclerc: oh lando🫤

landonorris: don’t “oh lando” me, you didn’t say it was a secret????

ynleclerc: what do you think the words NOT PUBLIC means??

landonorris: the lad had his hands ALL over you in the paddock, it was gonna be public news by the end of the weekend… at least this way it came from a reliable source🤷‍♂️

user62: don’t let the fact that Y/N is dating some hot hockey player from New York distract you from the fact that the besties are reunited!!! I’ve been missing this duo so much

user90: and they’re causing chaos as usual🥲

ynleclerc

liked by charlesleclerc, matbarzal, and others.

ynleclerc: since we were little, I’ve always been your biggest supporter and that will never change charlie. watching you achieve a dream you’ve worked your whole life to achieve is something so magical and all I could ever wish for you as a sibling. congratulations C! I love you endlessly❤️💌

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user13: “watching you achieve a dream you’ve worked your whole life to achieve is something so magical and all I could ever wish for you as a sibling” UM— EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO SOB😭😭

charlesleclerc: I couldn’t possibly do any of this without your love and support. my lucky charm, always. je t'aime❤️❤️❤️

ynleclerc: ❤️

user76: he finally did it😭🙏

user66: these are so beautiful… did you take them?? @.ynleclerc

ynleclerc: I did! I’ve never been so grateful that I carry my camera with me EVERYWHERE. I feel so honoured that I got to capture this entire weekend. I’ll cherish it forever😚

matbarzal

liked by charlesleclerc, jackhughes, and others.

matbarzal: starting the off-season right ❤️

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noahdobson: just casually posts a picture with charles leclerc and lando norris 🧍‍♂️

matbarzal: I’ll still remember you when I’m famous😘

user72: what. the. fuck.

user77: all of us rn cause this is the wildest crossover I could ever imagine between F1 and hockey😭

user11: they’re both so hot it’s kind of unfair

ynleclerc: ❤️

matbarzal: je t'aime❤️

user55: I wonder if she made fun of Mat’s awful canadian french 😭😭

mattymarts: you expect us to believe you did laundry? I don’t think you even know how

charlesleclerc: I won. guess you’re gonna have to come to every race now 🤷‍♂️

matbarzal: should’ve never told you about superstitions 😔you don’t need them, that win was all you bro😉

charlesleclerc: miss you guys already. gonna have to come to a hockey game next season

matbarzal: you should! we’d be honoured to have you

user77: did someone say bromance??

user19: someone check on beau

ynleclerc

liked by charlesleclerc, matbarzal, and others.

ynleclerc: monaco❤️

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matbarzal: red is definitely your colour baby❤️🥵

scuderiaferrari: we agree😌🏎️

charlesleclerc: thanks for coming sis❤️

arthurleclerc: miss you already🥺❤️

sydneymartin: so iconic😍

ynleclerc: says the ms. iconic herself 🥰

user21: UM— Mat looks so good OMFG

user72: she definitely dressed him

user62: YN please keep the Mat content coming🙏

user14: if I was YN leclerc all my life problems would be solved

ynleclerc: If I had your lashes all my problems would be solved. you’re stunning 😚

user16: you know those couples that just make sense? they’re definitely one of those

user88: can’t wait to see her at games and stuff

[sushirrrry]

fiabesco a harry styles x reader one-shot 2.2k words cw: so much fluff

“No, that's not– give it to me.”

Harry’s hands reached for the small device in your hand before you could speak another word. You huffed out a sigh of annoyance before you crossed your arms over your chest.

Harry looks at the phone and then back to the kettle, a few times to make sure that he's right, but you know that you are right.

“That's the right color, I promise.” Your words feel like they mean nothing as the two of you stand in front of the small display. You aren't even sure he's heard you.

It had been like this all day; you were both tired, drained from the house moving process. It was easier to shop online, you had told him. But Harry’s idea was to get you both out of the house, to give you a break from the four walls that you had moved into and been staring at for what felt like days.

That was proving difficult, as the photos and the real-life images were not matching up to either of your standards.

“This is not the same color as online,” Harry scoffed as he turned the kettle around in his hands. “This is like, a dark grey,” He holds the phone, then picks up the kettle. “This is chrome.”

You rolled your eyes, but Harry took notice before he put his hands on his hips and shook his head. The sleeves of his long-sleeved grey shirt were pushed up now; the clothes you both wore must have been filthy as you had been moving in the early hours of the day. The Italian heat was no joke, your frizzy hair and pink cheeks would speak on that.

You could tell that you were getting frustrated at one another. In all honesty, you knew that Harry wanted everything to be perfect and it was a bit frustrating to know that the item in the store wasn't what you both had wanted.

But you look at it with another eye, and note that it could work. “Let's just get it.” You say to him, shrugging. “If we don't like it in the kitchen, we can bring it back. It's not a huge deal.”

Harry’s the one to roll his eyes this time, “Aren't we here to buy this so we could have tea this evening? Isn't that why we're here and not showering?”

It was true– you had both come to the conclusion that the kettle was an important part of the first night ritual. It had dawned on you then that you couldn't really use the item and then bring it back.

“Well, let's buy this one– we can go to another store—” You were cut off by his grumbled words.

“Whatever– do whatever you want.” His visible frustration was pressing you as you bit on your lip. You thought about the photo he had shown you from the website and you really believed that you were looking at the same one.

A lot of the times, the photos were different than real life, and you think the shine may not have been as present in the photo. But you weren't sure.

As you bit your lip, you breathed outward as you spun the small kettle around in your hands.

“Do you really think—"

“I said do whatever you want! Get the fucking chrome then!” His voice was raised then; visible anger crossing his eyes as they knit together, and his hands stayed in his hips. It was a raised voice at me, and I could tell that we had both pushed each other to the brink.

Harry never got frustrated at you; he never yelled or raised his voice, he never looked angry. There weren't any frown lines crossing along his cheeks and forehead because Harry was hardly ever upset or mad at anything.

But you were pushed to your emotional breaking point as you set the kettle down on the shelf a bit too hard, making the metal shelf rattle as you did so. The tightness of your jaw only exceeded your need to cry as you pushed back the tears in your eyes.

You grabbed ahold of the bag that you held on to your shoulder as you started to walk towards the exit of the small kitchen store, nestled in the small nook of the Roman street.

Getting your dream home with the love of your life should have been a happy thing; it should have been a moment where the two of you relished in the sun and drank freshly made orange juice in the early summer mornings to beat the heat of the sun.

Instead, you were fighting back angry tears and walking away without another word because you didn't want to cry in the store. You pushed through the door, onto the street and didn't care if Harry was following you.

But he had been, he was right on your heel because that was the kind of person he was. Harry was kind; he never meant to hurt your feelings or make you frustrated. As soon as he raised his voice, his regret only further mad his anger grow– at himself this time, not the situation.

It was just that he had wanted the evening with you to be perfect. Everything had fallen into place so right. You had loved all of the furniture to the respective rooms, you set the TV up to be able to watch a film at the end of the night. After you had both showered, made love on the empty rug that blessed your living space floor, you would snuggle up on the sofa and watch one of your favorites— Notting Hill. A cup of tea in both of your hands as you allowed yourself the ideal summer night.

But instead, you two were frustrated and burnt out and in need of a meal and a shower, which felt more like it would lead to getting snuggled in bed and falling asleep on either sides.

You let a tear fall, but not anymore because now you could feel the exhaustion in your bones as you felt his presence on you now. You hear the scuffle of his trainers behind you as you lick on your lips and taste the saltiness of the tear that fell.

“C’mon, baby, I’m sorry.” You hear his voice, feeling the way that his hand grips at the back of your neck. It's in the comforting way that you like, as he guides you to turn and face him. Your head fits against his chest as you let it rest there for a moment; not caring about the way that you're sweating.

The hand on your neck moves into your hair as Harry keeps you there for a moment; letting his fingers glide into it, just below the placement of the clip holding your hair back.

“I didn't mean to snap at you,” He tells you, his lips placing on the top of your head as you stand against the wall of the store. The small nook feels private as you let out a huge sigh.

Harry laughs at that; his vibrato of a laugh is felt as you're against him, which makes you’re the edges of your lips move up in a soft smile.

“You're not mad at me, are you?” He asks, nudging an answer from you still.

This time, Harry nudges you away from him, but he places his fingers along your chin to raise you to look right into his eyes. It's a fluid movement, but you take in the way that his facial hair has grown out, the way that his skin has browned, and his eyes are light against it.

You purse your lips, swallowing as you shake your head with a discreetness that you're not even sure he could catch. But he must, because you see the way that the dimple pops along his cheek matter-of-factly.

“I think we're both stressed out,” He nods, “And we're both just a little on edge, hm?” Harry keeps pressing questions but your eyes stare at him for a moment before he presses on your chin again. His fingers feel strong as you hold your stare at him.

“I’m sorry,” You let out, wanting to keep yourself together, “I think we both just need to take a minute and get ourselves together. We were bound to lose ourselves at one point or another.”

The warm Italy breeze hits you and your shut your eyes for a moment as you feel the way that it trapezes across your skin.

“Hm,” Harry tuts, “I think I know a fix for this.”

His hand drops from your chin, grabbing ahold of your hand as you move through the small streets. They're cobblestoned and hold the footsteps of so many others before you— through love, breakup, first kisses, and first glances.

You don't know where he's leading you, but it's fine at the moment because you feel a burst of nostalgia and an outpouring of gratitude that you may have taken for granted before.

Who cared about the color of the kettle when the skies were the fiercest shade of cerulean and the sun hung in its highest peak? Who cared about any of that when the man of your dreams hung tightly onto your hand as he whisked you away and into the streets that would hold all of your memories from now on— bits of happiness here and there were awaiting you?

Harry pulled you along the streets, guiding you and marking small memories here and there as he would turn to ensure you were still with him. Even with the grasp his hand had in you, it felt important for him to know the smile and eagerness was still on your face.

As you arrived by the small socks that held rocky beaches and tented umbrellas, your eyes glided over the small gelato stand that had become accustomed to your routines since visiting Italy to begin with. But now your adventures together here had made this more of an availability than ever before.

Your heart stung at the pricelessness of the moment as you approached the stand with Harry on your hand.

“Bit of a treat to reward ourselves, hm?” He asked you, and your bit your lip as you tried to figure out what flavor you would get.

“Think I’m going to get pistachio,” You tell him, your heart settled on it.

Harrys hums for a moment before he tilts his head and purses his own lips. “Would it be boring for me to just saw custard?”

You laugh a little, nodding, “Yes, no custard. You have to do the lemon.”

You convince him; he orders the pistachio for you, and the lemon for himself— even if it was just so you could have both for yourself, taking bites of his when you could a chance.“Un pistacchio e un limone, per favore.” Your heart clenches at the words he speaks, the language flying off of his tongue as he does so with ease. You long await getaways together had turned into where you had felt your deepest love affairs. 

He hands you yours, and the spoonful is glorious. It melts in your mouth as you both stand off to the side now, the sound of the river behind you as you let your eyes meet his again. You watch the kink of his smile as he hears the pleasure take over you.

“Good, then?” He asks as he takes his own bite. His lips drift over his lips as he nods to confirm it himself, humming in satisfaction.

“This was the perfect idea.” You tell him, taking another bite.

You both head over to a bench by the water, taking in the sites of the tourists and the loved one who have made their trek around the city. So much love and admiration as you sit in a bit of silence.

“What are you most excited for?” Harry asks you, breaking the quiet. You ponder the question for a moment before turning to face him a bit more.

“I think I’m just excited to build a home,” You say, watching as his eyes crinkle by the sides. It's subtle, but you notice with such ease that happiness looks marvelous on him. “Build a family.”

Harry looks at his treat before lifting his eyes to you. “So many,” He mumbles, “So, so many of our little babies.”

You hum before using your thumb to brush over his cheek; your chin leans in to give him the softest, most chaste kiss before pulling back and giving his eyes an easy glance.

“Sono così grato per questa vita.”

Harry leans in to kiss you, your hands wrapping into his hair as you accept it with ease.

“Un fiabesco.” He says against your lips, his eyes taking a glance into yours. It's the kind of dreaming that cannot be done unless you're asleep, certainly.

Your troubles all wash away as you melt away into the sun of the day, leaving bits of memories here and there along the streets of Rome, waiting for you to remember them later— smiling at the love and memories that had adorned them before you, and very much afterwards.