#i guess i jinxed all the going home thing i was so excited so fucking ruined everything

[iftitah]

im so fucked right now 🤣🤣

[gorejo]

▸ manager in public, creampies in private - gojo satoru (hockey player/fwb!)

synopsis: His jinx — fucking the manager behind his coach’s back before every game — has become a rather risky ritual that he’s secretly developed over the years. With you, a regular pattern of his life, Satoru proposes a deal before his final game — the last time he’ll confess, “you wanna fuck me or do wanna date me?”

contents: wc: 15.2k(i am so sorry y'all.... i have no words for this), unedited. fem/afab!reader, she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as "girlfriend," pet names: baby, pretty, (there are so many), satoru calls himself daddy as a joke, locker room sex, fwb!, explicit language, p -> v penetration, creampies, lots of fucking. suguru moved to another uni. cunnilingus, squirting, fingering, teasing, mating press, doggy, gojo can carry the reader because he’s strong like that. little bit of Satoru’s pov..

The stadium is cold the moment you walk in. It’s enough to make your cheeks mildly sting and send shivers down your back, leaving the tip of your nose to feel frozen. From the crisp smell of the rink that’s been brushed out just moments prior, to the vibrant conversations of adults and the cheers from children anticipating the next game, everything tugged for your attention. 

At the apex of winter sports, today will mark the champions for the national collegiate tournament for Division I Hockey. 

For the normal attendee or avid fan of the sport, being there should be exciting. 

But it couldn’t be far more inapplicable for you. A nervous pit coiled inside your gut — a dichotomous force of friction that made your heart thump in anticipation, but your stomach churn in anxiety. 

Your mind felt like a fuzz. Guess, it didn't help that your ears also felt plugged, with every sound muffling inside that annoyingly distorted your rational thought — or whatever was left of it. 

Stumbling onto the bleachers with your cheeks feeling hot despite the chill that surpassed your skin, your legs felt wobbly while walking over to your designated seat as the beloved team manager; like a broken record, your mind replayed a moment you had not less than an hour prior. 

“Control him from doing anything irrational off the courts. That’s your only job today.” the head coach warned before making his way out of the locker room, his thick calloused hand placed on your shoulder, his firm grip a forewarning to not disappoint him.

“Whatever he chooses to do on it, he can go crazy all he wants as long as he brings home the trophy. I don’t care,” Yaga Sensei muttered, lowly chuckling as he hitched up his glasses, “you’re good at your job, make the last one count,” he firmly stated before closing the door behind you.

Of course, that was your job and in no way were you going to fuck things up. Every game was the same: regulate your star player, do damage control for his unhinged actions, and babysit him – the prodigy for the University of Tokyo, from doing anything negative that the press could get their hands on. 

Or in simpler terms: control your fuck buddy and do whatever it takes for him to not be so unfiltered — keyword: whatever.

You recalled the week prior, cringing at the aftermath of his actions, with you sowing the repercussions of damaging your almost perfect reputable reputation — a total disaster of an interview, the distress to your migraines you had every game day thereafter from both him and Yaga-sensei.

Granted, conducting an interview post-game wasn’t fun for anyone especially when it was painfully knowing that the reporters were only interested in trying to leach out any information to make a viral post of the handsome center.

His articles sold, and any gossip obtained was always a hit. 

His last article went viral — a hot topic of gossip in all outlets of social media, trending not only in Japan but in other countries as the hot man that kicked a reporter, Gojo Satoru, University of Tokyo’s center, and the most infamous, Gojo’s girlfriend. It was of a photo of Satoru midshot, kicking a reporter with his long legs easily reaching to their face with a cheeky smile while his hands were haughtily in his pants with a blurred figure hiding behind his back, nimble fingers grabbing hold of Satoru’s clothes. 

Surely, pretty privilege very much exists when more than half of the comments of netizens were:

omg look at his legs! He’s so pretty! That reporter deserved it. 

damn, wish I looked that good kicking someone. 

He makes me question my sexuality. What a beautiful man.

Definition of looks like a cinnamon roll, but would kill you. 

Don’t worry y’all! That’s me behind him! I’m the girlfriend 😘

SATORU HAS A GIRLFRIEND? I’M SICKKKKKKK

Is it weird to find this hot? I don't condone violence but if it’s Satoru… 

“So Gojo-san, what do you foresee as your next plan to defeat your rival player next week? Can we expect some friendly competition?” The reporter asked, intently waiting to type up any information Satoru had to give.

Sludging over the microphone, his voice vacant of any enthusiasm, but instead endowed in annoyance, “If he can keep up, then yea. It’s been over a year since we’ve been on the same court, I don’t keep up with his updates but I’m sure he’s been training on his own. He’s good at what he does.” Satoru tiredly sighed, brushing his bangs over his forehead, while lightly clutching onto the mic stand with his other hand, “Next question.”

And of course, the rather infamous question he gets asked every interview. 

“Are you currently dating anyone? I’m sure you have loads of people wanting to date you.” Upon hearing the rather obnoxious giggle of the reporter, Satoru’s jaws clenched with irritation. “Any special plans for the New Year with a certain special someone, specifically maybe the one you were pictured with?” 

Getting questions about his private life wasn’t out of the norm and was a regular occurrence. Usually, he’ll flirt with the idea and throw a little bait to the reporters, but particularly on this day, it rubbed Satoru the wrong way.

“What a stupid question, don’t you get tired of asking who I’m fucking?” Satoru numbly responded with life drained from his eyes despite the rather harsh clench of his jaws, “Well, if you’re so dying to know, I’m currently getting rejected on the daily by a rather oblivious person.”

“Any hints as to who —”

“Why?" he scoffed with a brow raised, unfazed, "so you can go harass her for information? Next question.”

“Hello, Gojo-San could you explain about the rumors that are going around about your fallout with Kyoto’s new center?” Another reporter quickly rode off the previous questions. 

“What rumors?” Satoru furrowed his brows, clicking his tongue against his teeth, briefly glancing at you off to the side. A fair warning that he was getting uncomfortable. 

Talking about his ex-best friend was still a sore spot for Satoru, a breakup without proper closure. 

It happened without a notice, a fallout that occurred in the middle of the season during Satoru’s sophomore year, and for a year he’s been silent until he’s made his return with the rival school.

Closing his eyes to calm himself down, fisting his hand as he clenched his teeth, Satoru annoyingly answered back, “We just aren’t on the same team anymore, nothing crazy about that. It’s normal in sports.”

“Well, people are wondering if it’s true that he betrayed you to give the game plays away to his current team.” The man responded, his ignorance seemed bliss, but the malice undertone with the slight tilt of his upper lip told otherwise.

“Betrayed?” Satoru scoffed, the air in the conference room immediately felt cold, irked from the reporter’s nonchalance in picking at his ego, “the only thing getting betrayed is you when your wife sucks my co —”

On instinct, you rushed over to cover his mouth — fucking idiot — and quickly stated through the mic with a routined rueful expression you’ve made one too many times — on behalf of this dumbass.

“I’m sorry, but we’ll conclude this interview from here on! I thank you all for coming.” 

While leaving, you quickly glanced at Yaga-sensei’s disappointed expression, his jaws clenched as he watched you both hurriedly make your way to the locker room with Satoru trailing behind with your grip over his wrist. 

You were one hundred percent going to get an earful from Sensei.

Gojo dumb fucking Satoru always making your life a complete hell; you were determined to chew his ear off.

“Just wait till we get into the lockers, Satoru” you stated through gritted teeth, your grip on his wrists getting firmer with each step.

“Yea? Ooo I like it when you’re rough with me,” he grinned, the utter audacity of him to take you as a joke, “what are you gonna do to me in the locker rooms?” he gasped, his voice innocent — it’s laughable, really — despite his breath close to your ears with his firm chest right behind you, taunting you to continue with your harmless threats.

It’s cute and makes his cock twitch and quickly pool with blood whenever you’re being dominant — at least when you try to. 

Opening the door, you snapped at him while taking a step in, “You’re fucking annoying —”

But things always seemed to take a turn to his advantage — always. 

The milliseconds leading to the locker rooms were silent — silence breaking the moment you stepped foot into it with Satoru’s lips rammed to yours, his hands hungry for greater access to your body. 

You’re completely caught off guard when his lips come crashing onto yours. The slight grunt of his voice mixed with a hint of a whine when he pushed you against the lockers, your hands naturally landing on his firm chest, easily melting into his grip — a sinful vice he’d been swaying over your head like a pendulum for the past years every time you both snuck around to fuck.

“I fucking tried,” he groaned into the kiss while he rapidly unclothed you. The annoyance that he’d felt a couple of minutes prior all dissipated out and funneled to you. It was apparent in the sheer urgency of his hands ripping off your clothes that his patience was running thin. 

“Ngh, S-Satoru!” your chest felt heavy, your mind feeling fuzzy when you met his carnal gaze, “we need to talk —” you’re cut short when his lips latch onto your neck, his hot breath lacing up your skin as he pulled your arms upward and caged your wrists with one hand, while the other traveled down your stomach, straight to your heated core. 

“Talk about what? How we fuck?” he moaned at the pleasurable feeling of your pussy being wrapped with his favorite cotton panties — the one he jokingly gifted for being his fuck buddy for a year — where soon he’ll be able to play with your cum coated folds while he fucked you against the mirror walls. 

“Oh god,” you huffed in the split moment he pulled away to catch his breath when his fingers started stroking up and down your folds, the tips of his middle and ring finger playing with your tight entrance, “Toru, w-we gotta talk, Yaga-sensei —”

Scoffing out a chuckle, he let go of your lips, his teeth pulling against your lower flesh with his voice deep. He peered down at you with his orbs strictly dilated and dark, “Aren’t you cheeky? Trying to get Sensei involved.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip, the throbbing pain of your skin feeling sensitive when his calloused finger presses against it, “but you need me to explain to him how we always fuck behind his back?” 

His hand traveled down your throat, his long fingers organically wrapping around your neck, a pleasing accessory around your neck, “I’d like that, too, it’s thrilling isn't it?” he taunted, his breath brushing against your heated cheeks, “but I don't think Sensei will particularly like what I say.”

“Y-your teammates ahh! —” You barely could let out a whine when his lips came crashing again, gasping when you felt the suffocated tension of your bra unclasping, exposing your breasts to the damp, cold air, the buttons of your shirt falling to the floor, “t-they’ll hear!” you tried whispering.

“They aren’t coming,” He growled, “ I locked the door,” his tantalizing voice contrasted with the sharp pain of his teeth biting into your shoulder, a dainty string of spit hung from his lips as he continued to paint your skin with his marks, felt all together euphoric. 

“But they're more than welcome to listen, we'll give them the hottest free porn.”

You can feel his hardened bulge being pressed against your hips, it was torturous to not cup your hands over his hefty cock. And he knew. He could sense it, feel in the way you pulled back into the kiss, the wanton sounds of your needy breaths pleasantly luring him to want more of you.  

“I need you,” he groaned while releasing your wrists and leading them to his member, having your hands hold his throbbing flesh, now painfully pooled with blood, while he aggressively shoved down his athletic shorts, freeing his very erect cock to spring out.

It was a sight to see — his cock freely nodding with pre cum leaking out of the slit, his head flaring a bright red while his veins bulged down his length. You can feel your mouth salivating at the sight of tasting his pebbled release sitting so prettily on his head. 

It’s embarrassing how you were so weak to his touch, how desperately you wanted a taste of his release, to ultimately end up being completely stuffed with both his cock and his cum filling you up to the brim that it just had to leak out of your tight hole.

And it doesn’t help how your mind becomes a blank slate the moment his fingers stroke perfect circles around your hardened clit, the sounds of his reciprocated desires to devour you echoed so licentiously through your ears. 

And accustomed to, your insides perfectly carved with the shape of his length, your inner walls throbbed, clenched the moment his fingers — one, two, three — slowly stretched out your needy pussy. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” his voice was teasing with a hint of impatience, “good girl," he praised when he feels you innately opening up for him. "show me how much you can suck me in, I wanna feel every inch of you,” Satoru coaxed, “trained this pussy so well, yea?”

Obediently nodding, your arms immediately latch around his neck, pulling him closer to your heated body. And with that, something short circuits in his brain the moment he sees you vulnerably so ready for him. 

“You’re so fucking cute,” Satoru purred, the playful glint of his tone was the opposite of the sheer force he had when he quickly propped up your legs under his arms, pushing you further into the locker room as he rammed his cock inside you, your back arching at the sudden penetration — a dichotomy of pleasure and pain as three fingers surely cannot suffice and prepare you for the length and girth of his cock no matter how many times he’s fucked you. 

“Hold tight,” he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips traveling down to your ears, tauntingly whispering, “I gotta swoon over my manager with a good fuck.”

Aggressively thrusting upward as the tip of his head searched for your sweet spot, your body folded from his strength. It doesn't take him long to find it — gummy and deep — especially when you're trembling and writhing in his grip. "because she just loves my cock, doesn't she?"

“T—toru,” you moaned out, the sweet mating call of his name ringing pleasurable to his ears.

“Who’s my good girl?” cooing as he placed a kiss on your nose, gently smiling despite his cock bullying past your wet, puffy folds, the sharp slapping of his skin meeting your thighs harshly echoing in the empty locker room.

And he swears he saw stars when he hears you.

 — “Me.”

Currently shaking off the memory you had a week prior, you had one job: stop that from happening.

Well, that being another disastrous interview session — sex just so happens to come with it… always.

It’s not like you didn’t enjoy his company. It was rather quite the opposite — you craved his touch and longingly wanted to be by his side despite your words stating otherwise.

In short, you’ve been in denial. A secret you’ve upheld since the realization that he’s crept into your heart and took much more space in it than you would like to admit.

Falling in love with the university’s hot shot wasn’t something you’ve planned to do within your academic agenda. Being prompt with your studies, attending clubs, and enjoying time with friends while studying, with the occasional partying, maybe getting a boyfriend here and there, while accruing a job and work experience was part of the plan. 

Not, him.

More specifically, loving Gojo Satoru, the bane of your existence, the pretty boy with an even devilishly handsome cock, that’s won your heart despite being your fuck buddy, was not part of the plan.

It should be a universal law: to never fall in love with your friend with benefit. And if there was a fine for being defiant of such a law, you would be the one prosecuted and trialed for such a wicked crime. 

And to no surprise, even today, you were no saint. 

Moments before —

“You know?” panting with his arms wrapped around your waists, thrusting upwards while he met your pace as you bounced on his cock.

With sweat dripping down his temple, he sucked onto your perked nipples, groaning when he feels you further tightening around his length — which was already snugly wrapped around him, “we should seriously date,” he frankly stated.

“Shut up,” you groaned, combing through his hair, adjusting your position to move your hips in rhythmic waves, the fire of your thighs making it difficult to withstand this position.

“Why not?” he groaned while pulling you down, cradling the back of your head with one hand while the other motioned your continual movements, his firm touch gratifying and making you feel safe despite the vulnerability of fucking in a public space. 

“I—I don’t ahh ‘Toru that’s too deep! —” moaning from the hitch of his hips, forcing himself to go even deeper, the tip of his cock teasingly poking at your sweet spot as his girth stretched you out — each motion helping him to bottom out.

Your eyes are brimmed with tears as you hold his hair, pulling against his strands while the other digs into his shoulders, marking up his body — it was so easy for him to make a mess of you in such a short time, and he loved it; absolutely craved for it.

“You let guys that aren’t your boyfriend,” chuckling while he pushed your body down, feeling your juices run down his inner thighs, satisfied at how nicely his cock was soaking in your soft walls, “fuck” thrust “you” thrust “like” thrust “this?”

Despite the rather light tone of his voice, jealousy raged inside him. Because there should be no other answer than —

“No — “ your grasping at his back, using any part of his body to find leverage to mitigate the fullness you were feeling inside your tummy — the red scratches of his back and shoulders remnants of your relationship with him.

“Good,” he praised, gripping your ass with a sly smile teased at the corner of his lips, eventually blossoming into a brazen grin when he intentionally stopped his thrusts just to hear you whine out for him again, “and it should stay that way,” he confidently professed. 

Dating Gojo Satoru. That would be nice. 

Commitment issues? Sure, guess you can say you had that.

Insecurities? Most definitely so when your so-called partner was The Gojo Satoru — the university's hottest athlete currently in the process of being scouted to play in the professional league. 

It felt all too surreal, everything inside of you was filled with him — literally and figuratively. From the way his lightly trimmed, now wet with your cum, hair tickled your clit to the way his cock filled every inch of you in one second only to be languid — slow and easy — pulled out and the next, rammed into you like a pistol releasing its bullet.

He usually took his time before games to fuck you, to enjoy and absorb your godly pussy power — he liked to always add while balls deep inside you with your thighs plastered to your chest, his weight pushing against your body, with the silliest smile despite the rather not so silly act he was doing with you.

A jinx, he liked to argue. A just happened chance of a one-night stand, now leading to years of fucking multiple times a week, under his solid impression that without you, there was no success. 

Win after fucking. And a loss without it.

What can you say? Dick was good, but being in his arms felt even better.

It’s a sin. But at this point, did you have any leisure to contemplate if that’s even an option for you to not partake in anymore? 

For someone that sleeps with drool coming out of his mouth, to the obnoxious thirst pics he would send only to you with an even more atrocious emoji ‘😜’ with a little ‘heh’ at the end, he sure gave you butterflies in your stomach; his mere presence made you feel good.

Crying and fervently pleading, with broken moans while every crevice of his cock continually carved your insides with his template, “Right there! — fuck ‘Toru, I—Imma cum please!” and he’ll reply with the most greedy moan as he pumped his seeds into your tight hole.

Satoru liked taking his time, but he also lavished under the thrill of a quick fuck. Desperately clinging onto each other, fucked into an absolute mess while he quickly rearranged your guts — that was his favorite. 

“Can’t talk anymore?” he smiles. At the same time, he painfully fucks you at a slow pace, “Thought you were going to put me in my place?” cock twitching inside you when he notices how swollen your lips have become and the little squirm you release when you feel him growing within you, “it’s a shame, I like it when you curse at me,” he chuckles. 

“Shut up,” you tiredly croaked, “you talk too much.”

“Tired?” he breathed out, looking up with his lips slightly bruised from the feverish kiss you had with him just moments before he chose to open his mouth — the type with tongue with spit drooling down the sides, unafraid to use to teeth to bite and tug.

“Mhm,” you quietly nodded, pulling yourself closer to his body.

“Thought you’d get used to me by now,” he peppered your shoulders with gentle kisses, “you know? by how much I’ve fucked you,” his touch now soft — almost fragile in the way he held you. 

“You wanna try getting impaled by this,” clenching on his shaft for emphasis while you relished in his comfort, “and then tell me if you can get used to it too?”

“Relax,” he coached, chuckling as the padding of his fingers gently massaged your hips and eased out at your muscles, “I hear ya, just lean on me a bit.” 

The warmth of his skin felt nice. The touch of his hand pressing against your body felt like electricity pulsing through your body while the circuits of your neurons flashingly fired to cause the heat of your core to spark in flames when he pressed tender kisses against your shoulders — one too gentle and comforting for a fuck buddy to be doing.

“You know,” he hummed, “dating me won’t be all too bad.”

“Sure,” you thoughtlessly answered back, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck, taking a whiff of his natural scent.

“You like me,” he placed a kiss on your temple, “and I think we’re pretty compatible,” he continued to kiss areas of your face, spending time to adorn every inch, “Sex is good, and I’m hot, so I don’t see why you won’t date me?”

“Who said I liked you?” your useless pride spoke before you registered his confession.

“Rude, who’s the one that won’t let me go in the mornings?” scowling as he lightly flicked your head. “and you mumble when you sleep, you know?” he smirked, the tilt of his lips teasing, his crystal blue eyes half hidden from his lids as he briefly looked down at your swollen lips, “it’s cute, but I would rather have you confess to me when you’re not half asleep.”

“You freak,” pouting as you tried hiding your face, embarrassed that you unknowingly outed yourself yet still chose to proudly reject his confessions.

“How about this,” looking up with eyes sparkling with anticipation, “if I make the last point, then you go on one date with me.”

“Is there an option to decline?”

“No,” offended you would say such words, you could practically see every aspect of his demeanor — hair, face, eyes — all simultaneous sulk in unison.

“Then what if you don’t make the last shot?”

“You won’t need to worry about that,” he cheekily smiled, cupping your face to place a soft kiss on your nose before reaching your lips. You can feel his cock starting to harden and twitch, evident from the small hitches of his hips to burrow himself slowly into you.

Leading you into a kiss, pushing you upward to give a little space for him to squeeze his cock inside you, the patience within him to wait for you to slowly sink onto his length again dissipates the moment he hears you tease.

With your mouth gaping open, and eyes tightly shut while your nails dug into his chest, barely managing to garner the strength to go for another round, you always talked so big. “You’re prideful to think one date can win me over.” 

“I mean I already have,” shrugging as he leaned back on his elbows, scanning down to see where you’re both connected. it's arousing when he sees your pubic bone perfectly nestled on top of his, “You’re the one that’s sitting on my cock, no?”

“your mouth is the problem, Satoru,” rolling your eyes while you pushed him away, the heat of your cheeks burning up just as the core of your stomach flared up and coiled inside you. 

Pulling you back, tilting your chin to meet his wanting eyes, “Hey hey, look at me,” he softly breathed, “I’ll be good to you,” he whispers, “I don’t go fucking around other girls, it’s just been you. I promise.”

“ ‘Toru —” you feel him slightly adjust his hips and in tandem, his cock moves deeper inside.

“Shh… just trust me,” shoving the rest of his shaft fully inside you, clenching his jaws and immediately wrapping his toned arms around your waist. From the sudden suffocating tightness surrounding his size combined with the pleasurable sensation of you writhing in his arms, he knew today was going to be a good game — his career best, at the least.

"I'll prove it to you. I'll win."

"what if —"

And through gritted teeth, while he steadies himself inside you, with each breath he emphasized, the gushing of your wet pussy coating his cock, and the desperate whimpers of your moans sounding so organic and delicate in his ears as he prepared you for another climax, 

“Shh... you should know that best, princess. I always finish the job.” 

— 

Squirming in your seat, heart racing as you watched Satoru belatedly enter the rink, shaking out his white hair before putting on his helmet — droplets of sweat peeking through from his prior rendezvous, the slight bliss on his cheeks blooming with the puff of smoke huffed from his mouth. 

Swiftly skating to his teammates to start on warmups, donning a blue and white jersey with white lettering with the number 6, there was a divide of a deep chant of his name coupled with the shrieking enthusiasm of his fangirls whenever he effortlessly made a practice shot. Whenever he slightly even glanced over to the audience, there was a roar of adoration.

“Keep it all in for me, yea?” the source of your migraine chuckled as he held your trembling body. His hands naturally moved to lightly massage your sore hips, the huffs of his solid chest inviting you to breathe and wind down.

In response you reached up to pinch his nipples, groaning from exhaustion, "pervert..."

“it’s my last game, so be nice to me.” 

Fucking you till the last minute he could spare, Satoru decided to be cheeky and shoot his cum so deeply inside you. Huffing curses close to your ears as his arms pulled you further down on his cock, nearly piercing you with his length, his member pulsing with every splurt of his seeds pushed into you.

In conclusion, you’re now sitting in your seat, not daring to move for fear that it will spill. He was usually good at cleaning you up, taking his sweet time to kiss your cheeks and brush his bruised lips against your skin as he steadied his breath. But maybe it was from the nervous thrill he had of meeting his once friend, or the pent-up frustration of this past season that’s gotten to him, but one thing for sure was that Satoru came a lot — your wet panties currently pooled and soaked in his cum being proof of it.  

“What took you so long, was looking all over for you?” Someone chirped behind you.

Flustered from hearing his voice, you quickly turned around, flinching when you felt a lump of fluid squeeze out of your pussy.

Cheekily smiling as he pulled up his skates while apologetically smiling, “I need my strings fixed… wondering if you had any extra?” 

“Haibara-chan…” you forced out a chuckle, trying to shake away the sudden surprise, lightly shaking your head while you took his skates, “I’m starting to wonder…” slowly untying his laces, the cold stadium making it a bit difficult for your fingers to grasp onto the material, “if you’re doing something fishy with these?” 

“... That's Gojo-san,” Haibara mumbled under his breath, sitting down on the bench, the clothes of his uniform oddly too big for his growing physique, “It just somehow ends up getting worn out all the time,” the younger man sulked, “I blame Yaga-Sensei for running us so hard during practice.”

“Mhm,” you hummed while searching through the team bag to find a new pair of white laces, “I’m teasing, Haibara-chan,” opening up the fresh pack to string his skates, “just promise me, you won’t be like him.”

“Him?” Haibara curiously asked, cocking his head to the side, his blunt bangs moving with the angle of his head.

Yes, Him — the one who’s currently in a headlock from Yaga-Sensei for completely blowing off the pre-game interviews.

“Ah, guess you’re referring to Gojo-san,” Haibara looked into the field, and took a glance at you, “but you like him, no?” 

“Huh?” you felt a sudden pang in your stomach when hearing those words.

“Sorry! I meant like friends!” He raised his hands to rectify the tension from your question, cheeks blushing in embarrassment. “You’re close to him, right? We've noticed you both spend a lot of time together,” he hummed.

“Ah, yeah… I guess,” you softly answered, barely audible.

“He’s handsome and friendly, awfully a good athlete, and is smart too?” Haibara was practically bouncing on his seat while bragging about his beloved senpai, “There’s practically nothing the man can’t do!”

“Sure… but he’s the most insufferable human I’ve ever met in my life,” you grumbled, slouching in your seat to hide your face from possibly showing any emotion while talking about him. 

“Really? Wow, I’m jealous,” he whispered, yet his voice chirped in adoration, “maybe he just really likes you, you know… like how close friends do that to each other! ”

Close friends. 

Guess the dynamic of the relationship was of close friends but… not with a good conscience — close friends with benefits.

Despite the nature of your relationship with him, he wasn’t what you imagined. Indeed, you both didn’t start with the most cordial dynamic. You hated him and despised his guts when he “accidentally” stepped on your white shoes while he rushed out of the lockers. 

Normally you wouldn’t mind. Accidents happen and you weren’t particularly fussy about those things to care. But when the contender that stepped on your shoes had size twelve feet, a literal giant compared to yours, of course, you’ll get livid — especially when the dirt of his soles made your shoe look gray from one step alone; furthermore, when he didn’t dare to say a simple sorry. 

You recall grunting, mumbling curses at the stupidly tall asshole, with an even stupid smirk on his face while cleaning your shoes with a toothbrush during the middle of the night. You slept with the intent to kill him the next morning and make his life a living hell when you’re introduced as the team’s manager.

But guess what, Satoru would always have the upper hand. Before you can even introduce yourself, he’s stiffly walking towards you with a hand awkwardly scratching the back of his head while pushing something in your direction.

“Here,” he stares off to the side as he hands you a shopping bag, “I wasn’t sure what size you wore if it doesn’t fit, you can exchange it.”

“What?” you eyed him, unsure why he was acting so weird.

“Sorry, we got off on the wrong foot,” Satoru lamely threw out a pun, hoping the tension would ease out with a small laugh, instead he was met with your unfazed expression.

“tough crowd,” he softly murmured, sighing before leaving the room, “well, the receipt's in the bag if you don’t like it.”

Suspiciously eyeing the bag, you took out the box and opened it. Inside was a pair of shoes that were similar to the ones you wore yesterday before he ruined them, with a little note inside and a rather cute drawing of himself.

‘Hope we can get along. Welcome to the team.’

You felt acid slowly creep its way up your throat, gurgling in your stomach, making it painfully difficult to succumb anymore to this conversation. A stamp of reality that Gojo Satoru may possibly, after this game, become nothing more than a fever dream. 

It’s silly, really. And it was even more ridiculous how you pulsed in your seat, longingly wanting that he would win — not for his own success, but for yours.

“Sometimes I wish he would be —” 

“Yu and Kento, get your asses over!” Despite being from across the rink, Yaga-sensei’s voice boomed as if he was right next to you, breathing down your ear. 

“I think Sensei is calling for you guys,” you interjected, kindly smiling with your eyes as you passed on his skates.

“Oh shit!” His eyes rounded, face paling and body antsy in his seat, “Ahh thank you for stringing these for me.” Bowing multiple times in gratitude as he reached over his skates, “Nanami! We gotta go!”

“Tell Sensei I’m not here.” You could hear his faint voice coming from the corner, his thick jacket covering his whole body with only his laced skates peeping from the bottom.

“I’ll give you five seconds, ” Yaga-Sensei threatened, “or you’re both running laps around the field till you drop tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir!” Haibara immediately stood up, quickly dragging his fellow blonded friend along with him — for someone less enthusiastic about his games and practices, Nanami was always fully dressed for the game. 

“Ahh Gojo-san! Look this way!”

“GAHHH! Gojo-senpai is coming here! My phone! I need a picture!”

The shriek of his fans' screams painfully rang in your ears. 

The chant of his name gets louder, the shrill becoming overbearing when you notice him skating towards your side of the stadium.

“Don’t you dare come here,” you mouthed, your eyes shooting daggers at the smirk on his face.

You could tell — no, you could feel every inch of your body being observed by the audience, daggers being sent in your direction. 

Did he just fucking wink at me? 

It was infuriating just how normal he was on the court while you writhed in your seat, having a mental shock whenever you felt a hot gush of viscous fluid drip onto your panties. 

Satoru makes a crisp stop in front of you, taking off his helmet and shaking his hair. It was comical the way his fans fell to their knees, girls practically foaming at the mouth and guys mentally noting how to up their rizz game like the athlete.

Opening up the side door, he leans against the railing with his elbows resting on the surface, “you good?” he arrogantly asked. Though his words sounded caring, the slight mischievous twinkle in his eyes told otherwise.

“What do you think, Satoru?” You hissed through your teeth despite the friendly smile you gave him.

“Good girl,” he whispered out, just enough for you to hear, “ wouldn’t want you to waste any of it.”

“Gojo Satoru, I swear —”

The stereo briefly shrieks before announcing, “Ladies and Gentleman! Here come the visitors onto the rink! Give them your loudest cheers!”

Immediately you can see his jaw clenching, and the once vibrant color of his cerulean eyes becoming a shade darker as he turned around to face the opposing team. his gaze specifically lands on the team captain — Geto Suguru, Kyoto Spartan’s center. 

“Are you going to be okay?” softly placing your hand on his forearm, worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself and act on his emotions. 

“Yea,” he turned around half-heartedly chuckling as he looked down at your hand comforting him, only to look up with a smug look on his face, “you worried about your soon-to-be boyfriend?”

“I’m being serious, Satoru,” you lightly gripped his arm, the look of your eyes solidified his one of many reasons why he fell for you in the first place. 

You were kind. well, kind enough to accept all his bullshit.

“I know, and I am, too.” He calmly reassured with his gloved hand placed over yours, “It’s gonna be a good game, and I gonna make you my girlfriend, so don't fall too hard, okay?” Satoru playfully winked, briefly squeezing your hand before leaving you to join his team,  “I’ll be fine, worry about me after the game because I’m going to need it.”

Today would mark the champions for the Mens Division I finals: the Tokyo Trailblazers vs. the Kyoto Spartans. 

The final terminus of once childhood best friends, Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, now stood on opposite sides to be the final victor. Star players of both universities who played together till two years ago now stand as rivals at the collegiate championships. 

“Eyes on the puck at all times,” Yaga-Sensei forewarned, “You’ve practiced with Suguru, and knowing his playstyle should be second nature, by now.” taking a glance at Satoru in his zone, eyes fiercely determined yet his composure was calm, “he’s not in our team, so play aggressive. Don’t ever fall behind Satoru, keep up at his pace and pass when you see the moment.”

“Yes sir,” the team harmoniously responded.

“Yu and Kento, remember to be careful, be vigilant and sharp, especially you, Nanami…” Yaga-Sensei cautioned, the lines of his furrowed brows behind his sunglasses deeply cut into his forehead, “No one else knows your position better than Suguru.”

Sophomore year, summer —

Jinx. noun. An evil spell; a person or thing supposed to bring bad luck.

It all started during your second year of university. 

Just like how everything just happens, so does your relationship with Gojo Satoru. It started naturally — or you would like to convince yourself. 

You were the team’s manager by title, and Satoru’s freelancing PR manager in private. 

“Why the fuck do you always have to make my life miserable!” You hissed at Satoru uncaringly stuffing his clothes from his locker into his bag, “Sensei’s gonna kill me tomorrow,” you groaned, leaning against the lockers and sliding down to the cement floor.

“I think that’s a you problem,” he hummed, taking a glance down at you before he continued to pack his bags, “I told you, I wasn’t going to do that interview, especially after that shitty game.”

“You're doing this on purpose huh?” you numbly asked, the throbbing pain of your head making you feel dizzy, “you’re just a prick that can’t accept a loss.”

“Not exactly,” he nonchalantly responded while closing his locker, clicking his tongue in annoyance, “I just didn’t want to answer the same damn questions I get all the time, that’s all,” he stroked his hair back to expose his forehead before crouching down, leaning on his elbows, manspreading to your level while sitting on the bench, “it’s nothing personal, princess,” he winked. 

His face was dangerously close to yours, almost as if he was taunting for something more than just a petty banter — especially in the way he titled his face, making it so easy to just —

“I wanna strangle you sometimes, you know?” you huffed out, glaring at him gloating down at you with the most irritating grin to exist. 

Maybe it was the anger that blinded your senses but strangely he looked so fucking handsome, especially in his gray sweats that — you scanned him from top to bottom, and you can almost see the definition of his crotch through the lining. he was big.

You can almost bet the pink of his lips was so soft to touch, and plush to suck  — what the fuck were you thinking.

Smirking when he caught your gaze on his lips for a second too long, he drew even closer. reaching down to grab your wrists to grip around the collar of his shirt, licking his lips while he challenged, “It’s your lucky day, Princess. Try me.”

Starting is always the hardest, the rest is easy. 

you wanted to kiss him, badly. clenching onto his shirt with a million thoughts spiraling through your head, mentally cursing him with every possible word you knew. Everything soon became quiet the second your eyes zoomed in on him licking his lips — it was absolutely perfect — glossy with a perfect shade of pink that seduced you into agony.

So without thinking, your lips go crashing onto his. The harsh breathing through your nose sounds impatient and gruff. Kissing him, with teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, Satoru immediately reciprocated by pulling you up to his firm lap.

“You wanna fuck me so bad, don’t you,” he panted in between kisses while his hand sneakingly ventured under your clothes to unclasp your bra and while the other pushed its way into your pants, harshly groping onto your soft ass.

Despite the tease in his voice, the quick speed of his hands curiously touching every inch of your body, groping and clawing, showed otherwise but leisure. 

“you started it,” groaning as you threw your head back, allowing his lips to peck kisses on your skin and for his tongue to trace up to your chin.

“You’re so honest when you’re needy,” he chuckles, “practically fucking me with your eyes.” Satoru always had a way with his words. He always irritatingly managed to get under your skin, as if he had an encyclopedia written on how to annoy you, he was practically an expert at it by now.

Normally you would scoff at his ego, and throw in curses just for some flavor. But you fell silent, pussy suddenly clenching on the air when you took a peek at Satoru, easily pulling off his shirt with one hand. His warm body was draped in a perfect muscle tone while he molded your breasts to his palm, his mouth sucking on your nipple, tongue tenderly swirling around your areola. 

“ngh shut up!” you rasped, “you’re so full of yourself.”

“Hmm,” he sounded pretty humming in response. Using his lips as a decoy to distract where his fingers were trekking towards, he pulled your panties off to the side to slip his slender fingers to touch your pussy — throbbing, warm, and laughably wet.

“let’s see,” groaning when he feels the warmth of your core, and your viscous juice coat his fingers. He swears that’s enough for him to cum in his pants but with all the willpower he had, he didn't — he couldn't until he's at least fucked you a couple rounds and has gotten a taste of your pussy — he lowly chuckled, “where you’re weak, princess.”

you gasped out a quiet, “fuck mhm, right there ‘Toru — j-just like that — please,” while tugging onto his hair, the hiss through his teeth sounding so melodic to your ears. 

With your fingers harshly entangled in his hair, you tried to register how this all happened. Your clothes were one by one thrown onto the cold floor, with Satoru now shirtless as he littered your bosom with tender kisses, holding you behind your curved waist while you pressed your chest further into his mouth, to feel the gratification of his warm tongue sucking on your nipple.

As his fingers stroked up and down your folds, the lewd noises of your erection squelched loudly while his mildly calloused fingers rendered pleasurable friction to your clit — a new, profound sensation you’ve never felt before, especially not with your fingers or even your most reliable toys. 

And it felt good — so fucking good. 

“you’re so soft,” he pulled out a groan deep in his throat, “hold onto me,” he ordered, his tongue trailing up your chest while he switched positions to have you lie on the bench.

Quickly pulling out his hand from touching your cunt, to strip you from your pants and throw them off to the side, he smirks when he hears a subtle whine subconsciously release.

“No — ’Toru please —”

That's all he needs to hear. Satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs and meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he can see it through your damp panties. He almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. call you out on your ego, but the ache that shoots down to his cock, painfully throbbing in his briefs, banging to be freed, reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself — probably worse and much more needy, desperately wanting, than you can imagine. 

“I got you,” he huffed, pressing a tender kiss on your knees before spreading out your legs to settle in between them, his eyes soaking up every inch of your pussy to have it practically memorized, “I just wanna see you a bit.”

Pulling up your panties and seeing your puffy folds perfectly enveloping the fabric made his cock twitch, forcing his hips to push his hardened bulge against your needy core while a tantalizing, static pulse ripped through his body.

The thick padding of his finger pushes against your flesh. And if there was a pageant for the prettiest cunt, Satoru was goddamn sure you would win. especially with how your pussy softly recoiled every time he poked your wet flesh, simultaneously eliciting an even prettier, desperate moan. 

“god you’re fucking wet,” Satoru purred as he played with just how thick your juices strung onto his fingers, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he delightfully praised under a solemn breath.

“Satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most. 

So what better way is there than to play his own game — to tease and have him be the one yearning, begging at his feet.

“Yea?” gaining a bit of your conscience to lean your weight on your elbows,  instead of needly lying on the bench, expecting Satoru to do something — anything, fast, “you’ve seen other pussies? Thought you were a virgin,” you teased while looking down at Satoru, pushing his bangs away from his eyes — his white hair a mess, cheeks heated and eyes dark and dilated. 

but, it’s his game. no one knows the rules better than he does. 

So instead of your expected reaction, Satoru chuckles, and takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, blowing air while he watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing. your hole pulsates in desire as arousal drips and leaves you into a burning mess.

It’s perfect—you’re perfect, everything about you is what he’s dreamed of — no, it’s better, far better than what he's fucked his fist to all this time.  

“Cute, you think so highly of me,” he snorted, unfazed by your mockery, eyes still focused on your pussy, “but you can see for yourself —” Satoru fastly pulled you down, causing you to yelp in shock at how strong he was. his face was now dangerously close to your leaking core, fingers delicately spreading out your folds, to uncurtain your pulsing hole and clit, contently smiling in adoration.

“—if I’m a virgin or not.”

“do you even know where the cli— oh my god,” you sobbed, the heaves of your chest becoming greater the moment you feel Satoru suck on your hardened bud, the plush of your thighs pushing against his head, curving your back as you pulled onto his hair, breathless from how he, too, was desperately eating you out.

it’s jaw dropping hot when his veins bulge and Adam’s apple bob while he gulps down thick saliva mixed with your sweet cum down his dry throat, his palm presses down your stomach to keep you pinned from squirming away.

he hears you and feels that you want him to. so he works, he works till his forearms burn and his biceps beautifully flex every time he fucks his finger into you, completely stretching you out, expertly adding more of his fingers to see your tight rim around his fingers clench in needy desire.

It doesn’t take him long to make you cum. Perfectly in tandem with the pressure of his mouth sucking your clit, to the rhythm of his finger inching deep within to find your sweet spots, guess, it’s not a surprise it takes him less than two minutes to locate it and another minute for you to be gushing. Quivering in his reign, the pleasure overwhelming as you came in his mouth— it’s almost painful how euphoric it felt.

Sucking and lapping every last bit of you while steadily pulsing his fingers in and out as you slowly came down from your climax, it wouldn’t be Gojo Satoru if he didn’t get the last word.

Letting go of your abused pussy with a soft kiss to your clit, his lips down to his chin were drenched, glistening, and dripping with your cum.

“You were saying?” he grinned.

Two hours thereafter, that day, Gojo Satoru performed a career-high of scoring seven goals.

Day of finals, thirty seconds till the game starts —

“Nanami,” throwing his arm around his Kohai, "I always knew you would be most fitting for this position,” a gentle voice welcomed himself.

“Geto-san,” Nanami's voice was emotionless, “you’re more than welcome to come and take it back,” the junior sarcastically jibed.

“Me? Don’t know if Satoru —”

“Get away from him, Suguru,” Tokyo’s team captain cut the rival off, “the game’s about to start, Nanami.”

Suguru shrugs while Nanami swiftly strides to his position as right-wing, carefully watching the scene behind Gojo’s back.

“Satoru!” The raven-haired now standing in front of Tokyo’s center amicably called out, eyes forming a crescent behind the thick black and white helmet, “long time no see.”

Satoru was straight to the point, desperate, “why’d you leave…?”

“No hello? My… Satoru,” the other chuckled while he comfortably situated his stick, next to the puck while both teams waited for the starting bell to ring, “where have your manners gone.” 

“are those rumors true?” Satoru asked while lowering his stance, preparing himself to get the first puck to start the game.

“The rumors?” Suguru questioned, a slight twitch of his lips giving away his faux innocence, “Oh —” scoffing while reciprocating Satoru’s actions, “Ahh, the one about me being a traitor?”

“Suguru, I know you. Tell me the tru —”

A loud buzz echoes in the stadium, Satoru’s words falling blank under the blaring cheers of the fans.

“Taking the lead —” the announcer reported live through the blaring amplifier.

“Guess, we’ll both have to see how much you know me, Satoru,” Suguru swiftly stated in the milliseconds of passing Satoru, speedily making his way for the opponent’s goal.

“— ladies and gentleman, has the Tokyo Trailblazers finally found their match? The Kyoto Spartans will take the lead with player Geto Suguru setting the pace!”

The second period, five minutes till the buzzer for intermission —

Tokyo (3): Kyoto (3)

Grunting as he pushed his way through the defense, despite the chaos of the stadium, he could hear the familiar crisp sound of skates closely behind him, “I heard you’re finally sleeping with her,” Suguru smirked, now skating parallel to Satoru.

“Shut the fuck up,” Satoru grunted, making every effort to keep pushing for the offense, expertly navigating through the rink while juggling the puck past the opposing team, quickly passing the biscuit to Nanami, “it’s none of your damn business,” Satoru hissed out.

“You're scared that she might not like you? ” Suguru breathed behind his ear, “when that’s all you’ve been painfully doing till now?”

Wrong, Suguru couldn’t be more far from it. 

Because since the beginning, for him, noncontingent of your response to him, it’s always been you.

And outside being the gifted athlete who’s endowed with greatness, with you, Satoru had two personas.

the one that desperately fucked you.

Crashing into the lockers, the impact of your back being further pushed onto the cold medal sent shivers down your body with every desperate thrust of his cock into you. It was awfully dangerous to moan out of his name, let alone to even breathe when his teammates were just outside the door.

“Shh, be a good girl,” he grunts while slowly fucking his cock out of you, only to ram it back in with even greater force, while his hand simultaneously covers your mouth, “don’t want people to hear you getting fucked, do we?” 

Muffling your moans with his palm, his cock relentlessly pistols in without any leisure to be accommodating to your aching core. His breathing becomes more hitched as his thrusts become more languid to press deeper — his length reaching as far in as it can go — it would be an understatement if you weren’t scared that he could practically rip you in half in this position.

You grab him. and your nails dig deeply into his back, marking his skin with angry scratches of crimson red. maybe he was a masochist, but the pain of your nails coloring his back was nothing compared to the pleasurable satisfaction he got when your gummy walls suffocated his cock.

Kicking out his teammates, only to fuck behind their backs as they cluelessly started on their warmups before a game was routine.

He’s memorized every inch of your body, studied where it makes you writhe, tremble, and immediately latch onto him for your dear life while he helps you reach your high. 

And right now, he knew. He can feel it in the way you’re clenching down on him that you were close. Not that he had any idle leisure of his own, but just enough to pump his cock feverishly into you, bullying past your abused hole as he lavished in the melodic symphony of his balls slapping against your cunt.

He has you folded against the wall, his arms holding you up and hitched under your thighs while he mercilessly fucked you. The burning in his muscles and the strain he felt in his body was nothing comparable to the heaven he was experiencing with your powerless stance under him while his hips snapped forward, his cock dominating your insides with his hand covered in your drool.

“—Toru please” you tried yelling, only for your voice to fall faint each time he rutted inside you, his cock completely disappearing in your body only to magically reappear to stretch you out again and burrow its length deeply within.

“angel,” he taunted, his breath fanning against your heated face, causing your eyes to swell up in tears when your eyes linked with his, briefly opening up his hand to allow you to breathe, “you gonna be quiet?”

You softly nodded, your insides clenching to stop the weird pressure that was building up inside, “it feels weird here, Toru — ahh it’s too much!” you whimpered, touching your tummy while your body ricocheted from his force.

“Yea? Then cum for me princess, I know you’re close,” he growls into your ear, his hot breath making it even more difficult to breathe, “you’re such a good girl taking my cock so well,” he praised, groaning when he immediately felt you throbbing around him in response.

The moment you see stars and your mind fall blank is when thick ropes of cum shoot inside you. you can almost feel the individual splurge of his hot seeds coating your walls, with every desperate thrust he made to completely milk out his cock, his tip throbbing while he grunted with pleasure. 

“I fucking love —” he rasped out, face nuzzled into the cave of your neck. it was difficult to mesh out his last word from his harsh panting to catch his breath as he felt the lumps of his cum squeeze past his member, still inside you, splattering onto the floor with a warm trail of liquid gushing down his thighs.

“good luck today,” you whispered.

Luck? he didn't need.

But you? he absolutely, detrimentally did.

Or, the latter.

The one that, still, fucked you — because he loved you, like a lover. 

With the days that surpassed as being his friend — with benefit — the more he’s taken a place in your life. It started with freely coming over after practice — fucking, despite not having a game the day after. Your bathrooms would naturally have another towel hung, and an extra toothbrush would stand next to each other.

Groceries were always Satoru’s duty, while you stocked up on the self-care necessities. Satoru particularly loved getting a facial with you with all the high-end masks and oils, cuddling under the blanket while you both watched cringy romcoms.

But it was undeniably his personal favorite when he could give you a facial with his cum splattered onto your face — it’s beautiful seeing you covered with his seeds. Or when his face is drenched in your sweet juice, despite his lungs desperate for air he immediately pushes you further down to sit on his face when he catches you trying to move away.

It’s become a ritual. you've become his religion.

He comes at exactly 8:47 P.M. And you wait for him.

The key to your door opens at the exact time. 

He grins when you walk up to greet him.

“Waited for me?” he softly cooed, placing his index finger under your chin, his lips onto yours while sucking gently before pulling away, a string of saliva connecting you both, but quickly snapping when he brushes his thumb across your cheeks.

If the universe orbited around you, he was your centripetal force.

“So pretty,” he praised while looking into your eyes, breathless as if he could be absorbed into it.

“I have food —” 

"Later,” he abruptly cuts you off, pulling you close to his body, ”but, I think —” humming with his lips barely brushing against your cheeks, his hand squishing them together as he confesses.

“— I'm gonna fuck you so hard,” his voice was unusually sweet for saying something so crude, “that you won't even be able to see out of those pretty little things."

You softly gasped, flustered and unsure of how to respond to such a comment. Instead, you roll your eyes as your hands find the back of his head to pull him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core. 

His hands roam around your body, particularly groping your ass before his fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts — his favorite ones that always managed to get him bricked up.

"No panties, huh?" He states with amusement, "Aren’t you a bad kitty acting all coy,” he chuckles.

"Shut up," you retort, your cheeks feeling hot under the pressure.

“You don’t want it?” he rebuttals, taking a step back as if there was even a choice.

It’s infuriating how much power he had over you, enticing you in his grip as you mindlessly frolicked in his palm. And it doesn’t help that he looks… well… he looks gorgeous, dangerously handsome — especially with his hair mildly wet, and his warm body fragrant with cologne and body wash. 

“I said,” wrapping your arms around him, further pulling him by the neck — so close that you can feel the tent that’s bulging under his sweats and the desperation that overflows in his visage while he angles his lips to perfectly match yours, “fuck me.”

“That’s more like it,” he murmurs before kissing you — it’s feverish and wanton, the type that makes you weak in your knees and your core to burn up in flames. 

His steps immediately guide you to your bedroom, groaning and grunting while clothes are being stripped off one by one, leaving a trail of evidence with no intent of stopping the kiss. 

Your feet knock against the foot of the bed, his signal to push you onto the mattress, abruptly ending the kiss as he looks down at your flustered expression with a smirk on his lips. 

Relishing in your gaze, Satoru strips in front of you. Pulling his shirt over his shoulders with one hand, he flexes his stomach and takes his time to get naked.

He knows you'll look — you always do. Outside of being an athlete, what was the purpose of hitting the gym? To catch you lusting after him. He can practically see your mind racing with thoughts, and he couldn't wait to show that he's better than what your silly, pretty, little brain could ever imagine him doing to you.

Examining him from top to bottom, propped up on your elbows, you absorbed the sight of his smooth, toned chest as he stripped, the dentures of his muscles beautifully sculpted down from his chest to the crisp lining of hip dents that led to his crotch. 

Leaning over, his body caging you with his toned arms, he gently places a kiss on your forehead, “like what you see?” he chuckles, “I’m pretty sexy, right?”.

"what the fuck?" you suddenly gasped.

“what?!” he whines — you can see his hair practically deflate.

Brushing your fingers over his chest, running your hand down to his abs, it’s smooth and toned. “thought your nipples would be pink,” you snorted, pinching his nipples.

He flinches at the pain, "it’s a brownish pink, for your information," He states, pouting, “and you’ve only noticed it now after how many times you’ve seen me naked?”

"I’m joking, stupid," You laughed, the melodic tune of your joy ringing in his ears like a constant melody.

“but I’m pretty right?” he pouts, biting your shoulders and softly kissing his denture marks. 

“Yea sure whatever,” you breathe out, throwing your head back as he now kisses up your neck, your heart just about to burst out of your chest.

"Let's get this off, hm?" Satoru kindly asks while tugging on the bra strap.

Obediently nodding, you raise your arms like a kid, and he pulls it off over your head. And unlike the trail of clothes you’ve both left behind, he manages your garment with care — especially after the last one he “accidentally” ripped.

His hands rest on your stomach, fingers stroking every curve before he brings them up to cup your boobs, pushing up your breast to squish it softly.

“Feel good?” he asks, watching your expression slowly unfold in bliss.

And before you know it, he's dragged his hands down to your thigh, his fingertips softly grazing slowly to your panties, getting dangerously close to womanhood.

"Tell me how much you want me to touch you," He whispers, and in response you shove your fingers into his hair, gripping tightly.

The light callous of his fingertips trail over your clothed clit, gently stroking the base with his fingers, feeling your panties slowly becoming more damp with each touch. 

Further opening up your legs, allowing him full access, he immediately takes the offer and ventures further along. situating himself in between your thighs to pull your panties off, kissing your hardened bud while peering up to see you touching your breasts, it’s a sweet sight to see for Satoru — breathless — while you longingly waited for him to just hurry the fuck up. 

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “That’s fuckin’ cute.”

"Right there-" you whisper, and he nods, dragging his fingers along, slowly moving them around to stimulate you as he sucked on your clit, taking his time to prep you

“You still didn’t —” The vibration of his voice further stimulates your needy pussy, gasping as you curve your back, desperately reaching for more of his perfect stimuli, “answer my question,” he states.

"Don't piss me off," you groan, pushing his face back into its rightful place.

"Goddamn," He mutters, the grip of his hand on your thighs becoming harsher, and the stuck of his mouth further fueled fire to your core. 

"I don't know how much longer I can wait when you treat me like that," he grunts while standing up again, simultaneously pushing down his pants and briefs, wasting no time as he wiggles out of his sweats.

You can see his dick is hard, twitching as it greets you. 

He exhales heavily, stroking his length as he situates his head to brush over your pussy. He’s seen it countless times, but will never get enough of measuring just how far he can settle inside you. The sweet plush of your tummy offers more cushion and excitement as he watches you hitch up your hips, impatiently waiting for him.

"aren't you excited?" Gojo says with a grin, using his thumb to rub circles around your clit, guiding himself past your folds, purposefully missing your entrance to coat himself with your natural lubricant.

He doesn’t even wait for your answer, and wastes no time pushing himself in, pulling out a whimpered groan, allowing your walls to open up and welcome his entrance.

He picks up his pace, rhythmic and balanced while sliding his hands under your hips to lift you up slightly to make sure his entire length can fit inside. 

"You're so tight.” Satoru grunts with a furrow in his brows as he dug his nails into your ass. hissing through his teeth while he continued to fuck through your tight hole, “You don't make this easy for me, do you?" He mocks, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulls you forward, your naked breasts bouncing with every impact.

You close your eyes, feeling every inch of his cock inside you. The slight tickle of his trimmed pubic hair brush against your clit as he slowly starts to roll his hips.

"You're so —" You whined, concentrating on keeping your sanity every time his tip painfully brushed back your sweet spot, "ngh — lazy!"

"Lazy, huh?" he scoffed, licking his lips like a predator locked in on his prey.

“ahh!” you yelped. within seconds you immediately find yourself on your stomach with Satoru’s weight crushing you from above. flipping you over without notice, wrapping a hand under your jaw as he turned your face towards him to deeply kiss, his feet harshly spreading and locking your thighs apart while his cock rammed into you, his balls splattering your wetness with each thrust.

"Maybe I won’t be so lazy if you become my girlfriend,” He states with a smirk, “just give in angel, you like my cock.”

“fuck — ‘Toru! slow d-down” you managed to cry out his name, his cock mercilessly thrusting into you, “you have n-no,” by now you were a babbling mess at how good he was fucking you, drooling with your lungs burning inside your ribs, “game tomorrow.”

“boo you’re boring,” He provokes, pushing his hand under your stomach to pull you on all fours, “never answering my questions.“ 

It doesn't take long for Gojo to adjust himself behind you. especially since your dripping cunt made it so for him to slide through every time. but it takes moments for you to readjust to him — every new position meant greater access for his cock to rearrange your insides.

“but this pussy will always be my good luck charm.”

It's almost as if you can feel his smirk as he grabs your hips, and begins to roughly pound into you in doggy.

"Look who’s lazy, c'mon, keep hips up, angel," He effortlessly teases, spanking your ass and firmly gripping onto the pulsing flesh.

"S-shut up, asshole,” you hissed, putting your head down on your arms for more leverage — it’s shocking how you’re not flying onto your headboard from the force of him thrusting into you.

"That's rich considering your asshole is right in front of me.” he chuckles, spreading open your cheeks to see your other hole pulsing on top of the one he was currently fucking, the rim barely withholding his girth, “ wanna try anal? it’s pretty, by the way."

"D-do you ever shut up?" You complain, reaching over to grab your pillow to muffle your moans. but in that split second, Satoru catches your wrists and pulls you backward, your back heavily arching and breasts rapidly bouncing in all directions, mimicking the robust thrusts of his cock pistoling into you.

“how can I, when you look so pretty,” his thrusts become more aggressive, “getting” thrust, he watches you crumble, face contorting in pleasure, he can tell you’re close, “fucked? thrust “by” he quickly catches your hand trying to reach down to stimulate your clit, “my” deeply pushing in, further splitting you open in half, the tip of his member knocking against womb, “cock.”

“too much…ahhh—wait! ‘Toru!” The bed violently shook as he drove his cock, balls slapping your wet pussy as your legs trembled with warm liquid dripping down from your thighs, slowly pooling onto the sheets.

“just say it, princess, you love me,” he growls, thrusting more as he nibbles on your lobes, pleasurable tears sliding down your cheeks as you instead gasp out his name.

“at least your pussy is honest.”

---

“I’m not here to talk, Suguru, get the fuck out of my way,” Satoru growled while pushing the other off.

“Don’t tell me, you still got no pussy to ask her out, Satoru,” the raven hair taunted.

“Nanami!” Satoru called out noticing his wing’s position wide open to shoot for a goal. It was apparent in the way Satoru briefly lost his balance, his composure starting to chip away from the strain of his muscles that he was getting exhausted — a feat Satoru would normally never struggle with until the last couple minutes of the game. 

But speedily passing by and braking with thick shaving of ice spraying from the sudden stop, intercepting the puck when Nanami passes — a gameplay Suguru’s practiced countless times with Satoru — the Kyoto’s center was now in possession of the puck, taking no moment to rest before charging the opposite direction.

In those split seconds, Suguru jeered, “wasn't this our favorite play?”

“Fuck!” Satoru muttered under his breath, quickly changing momentum to skate the opposite way.

And just before the buzzer goes off, Suguru easily angles his stick to chip the puck, the force of the impact causing the biscuit to shoot straight into the net.

Satoru huffs just meters away, dumbfounded at how much Suguru’s improved and curated his craft. A force he once relied upon and leaned on, trained tooth and nail while shedding blood, sweat, and tears together since fourteen now has become a thorn to his side that contrived to bring him down, Suguru bypasses his once best friend, standing in shock.

“are you still in denial, or have I answered your question about who’s the traitor, Satoru?”

Tokyo (4): Kyoto (5)

Intermission before the third, final period —

A tie (6:6)

It was the longest eighteen minutes of your life. no one dared to even speak. Through the chatter and vibrancy of the stadium, only the heavy huffs and gulping of electrolytes of the players were heard. Even Yaga-Sensei just sat there, brows furrowed with his thick arms crossed over his chest.

And Satoru, too, silently sat on the bench, leaning on his elbows parched to his thighs, manspreading with a towel thrown over his head. The heat of his body contrasted with the gelid stadium had faint white smoke radiating from his expended body.  

“Satoru,” you gently called out while handing out a fresh towel for him to use, “you’re going to catch a cold.” 

“Don’t need it,” he dully murmured without taking a second to raise his head to acknowledge you.

“I —,” Yaga Sensei grasped hold of your shoulder to stop you from saying anything regretful that would further disturb him. Biting your tongue, you sighed, “Sure.”

The cold response of someone who literally just rearranged your guts so wantonly before the game, sharing an intimacy with him throughout the years that bloomed into something more than what you’d like to acknowledge than simply being a friend with benefit caused both frustration and helplessness to boil within you for not being unable to help him.

Not like he needed your help, nor did he ever ask. But from time to time, you wished he would let down his burdens with you, and allow you to carry his weight for a while.

Only once has he ever shown you his emotional side. The infamous night when Satoru received the news of Suguru’s departure, you found him drunk in front of your apartment waiting for god knows how long.

all you could remember was that the night was awfully cold for someone to have a broken heart.

That night, despite no words being said, the comfort of your arms and the warmth of your skin helped him to sleep despite the storm that raged in his mind. 

It was understandable his mood. Normally he wouldn’t be so emotionally invested in a game, even if he had lost. During intermissions, he would either be chatting up a storm, blowing your ear off about all the plays he’s made and if you’ve finally fallen in love with him. Or, two, he’ll be listening to you nagging at him to not go throwing his opponents against the wall while wrestling for the puck.

Hockey was aggressive, but it was also an athlete’s duty to learn how to play smart and do their best to abstain from injuries that could potentially harm their career — especially, if the athlete in question is one preparing for his national debut to representing Japan in the Winter Olympics the following year.

Awkwardly, eyeing your expression, Haibara laughed while scratching the back of his head, cheerfully asking, “I would like a new one, mine’s a little damp.”

“Me too,” his blonded friend chimed in, his voice not as enthusiastic as Haibara’s.

Smiling in appreciation, you lent them a towel and extended the care to the other players as well.

“Why’d you give him the steal?” Sensei bluntly asked, looking at the rink while sternly watching Suguru make his way onto the field. His ex-disciple gave his old coach his respects with a little bow when he caught his gaze. 

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?” Satoru numbly stated, the clenching of his fists reflecting his true emotions.

“You know what to do,” Yaga-Sensei firmly stated, pushing his sunglasses up his thick nose, wasting no time before the buzzer rang again to redirect his player, “you know him better than anyone else, trust your instincts.”

Twelve minutes till game —

The crowd roars. Currently in the last period, with a couple more minutes on the clock to crown the final winner, both teams ferociously fought to control the game. 

The pluck clicks with each hit against the blade. Speedily sliding against the ice it was almost difficult to see it on the field. 

Currently, in possession, Nanami pushed forward, putting pressure on Kyoto’s defense as Haibara simultaneously rushed to the other side, leaving Satoru wide open for a pass. Nanami prepares to hit a pass over to his captain, hitching the puck in the air for a quicker velocity towards Satoru, who’s ready to receive —

The glass walls tremble on impact. Flinching at the loud noise, your eyes widen when you see it unfold in slow motion. Both bodies harshly collided against the wall with Satoru getting sandwiched between two forces. expelling out a groan as he slid down the wall, with puffs of white smoke spewing from his lips with each harsh huff of his chest. 

“Seems like a brawl has occurred between the two captains!” 

“And from the looks of it, Gojo Satoru is struggling to get back on his feet!”

“No,” you muttered under your breath, face paling and body going cold despite the adrenaline pumping through your blood, you pushed your way through the audience to get to where he was.

Your mind felt like a minefield. With bombs ticking, threatening to explode with each step you took. Nauseous from the anxiety, it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe as if there was a ball stuck in your throat. And despite the efforts to try and stay calm, it was rather difficult when your thoughts replayed the countless other injuries Satoru sustained during your time as his manager.

“He’s going to have to take at least 8 to 10 weeks off for his fracture to heal.” The emergency physician stated, pointing at the small crack on his right clavicle.

“He probably won’t listen,” Sensei remarked, crossing his arms while letting out a deep sigh, “is there any way he can recover faster?” 

“It’s fine guys —” Satoru tried playing it off.

“Shut up,” you and Sensei simultaneously interjected, scolding him to be quiet as if he were a child.

Clearing his throat, “As I was saying, it must’ve been painful for him to have played in this state, I imagine this was an ongoing injury he’s sustained in the past,” the doctor murmured while further analyzing the film.

You immediately shot daggers at him, glaring when the doctor unintentionally outed Satoru’s injury he’s been keeping a secret. Flinching, Satoru slowly sank further into his bed, covering his face with his blanket. 

“Though, being diligent with his PT and fully resting his body for at least six weeks will be the fastest route for recovery.”

But, well… it doesn’t take more than five weeks for you to get a text from Suguru.

From: Suguru

Don’t get mad… 

To: Suguru

You saying this makes me already mad. What happened?

From: Suguru

Just bring some icepacks and some sweets and head over to Satoru’s place. 

To: Suguru

I swear to god if you guys play —

From: Suguru

... it's his fault.

And it doesn’t take you more than thirty minutes to be blowing up his doorbell, knocking on his door at exactly 12:34 A.M. with an ice cooler with icepacks and a bag full of his favorite candy. 

Thud! 

“Fuck… ow that hurt.” You heard a muffled voice through the door. 

“It’s me.” You curtly announced.

Quickly opening the door, his elbow leaning against the door with an insouciant tone to his voice, he cracked a boyish smile, “Ah, isn’t this my favorite person. What brings you here?” 

“I told you not to —” Rage bubbled up inside you as you glared at him. 

“Okay!” Nervously holding up his hands, doing his best to calm you down, “before you get mad —”

“I’m already mad, Satoru —”

“Okay! Fine! Before you get even madder,” taking the heavy loads off your shoulders, settling them onto the floor, his warm hands cup your face, “it’s really nothing big. Just feels a little strained that’s all,” he tried to reassure when he sees you about to object.

“Really, I’m fine,” his eyes urged you to trust him, “I just… missed being on the rink, that’s all.”

Your eyes soften when you see the little sulk on his lip, and notice how he’s lost a little weight in his cheeks. Quickly letting out a deep sigh through your nose, you mumbled out, “I’ll be the one to decide if you’re fine or not.”

---

“Take your shirt off.” You ordered, firmly holding onto the hem of his white shirt while saddling on his thighs.

“Oh wow.” he placed his hands on his chest, acting innocent from your forwardness.

“Satoru, take your shirt off,” you grumbled, pulling at his shirt and rolling your eyes when it was easily removed, despite him acting naive, again his hands covered his bare chest — just managing to barely cover his sculpted pectorals.

“It’s really nothing,” he blushed, awkwardly looking off to the side with a guilty smile. 

“Satoru you just took off your sleeve,” you murmured, placing an ice pack on his collarbone, your voice filled with worry. 

“I’m really fine, baby,” he loosened up after seeing the cute pout on your lips, your brows faintly furrowed as your fingers ever so lightly iced his injury.

“I’m not your baby,” you stated with a glare, clearly not impressed with his defiance to go against his doctor’s orders, “I don’t date people that don’t listen to me,” you said without much thought while tending to his bruised clavicle.

“Oh —” his ears perked at hearing your words.

Fuck.

“Wait! What I meant was —”

It was evident that he was trying to contain his smile from the way he bit his lips. “You so wanna date me don’t you?” 

---

It’s not a surprise how you ended up in this position.

It started off with a light kiss, lips softly meshing with each other with light teasing of tongue — he swore, it’ll be just one kiss.

Soon enough hands start to idly move on their own accord, groping areas, and massaging places that wouldn’t particularly follow with just one kiss, leaving you both simultaneously panting and yearning for more. 

And then you’re grinding on his throbbing cock, spit slightly leaking from the edge of your mouths while tongues feverishly fought for dominance, naked with your pussy pulsing and dripping in need to swaddle and engulf him whole. 

Progressing forward, you’re slowly sinking onto his length, bottoming out with your ass seated on his thighs, foreheads linked while you both took a minute to adjust to one another. like an unspoken language, you both solemnly breathed, that even if the world crashed around you both, nothing would matter because the other was there.

He’ll cum.

It’s beautiful how he does it. And in moments like these, you can’t deny that the man who’s chasing after his high under you was the man you loved. 

With his mouth gaping open, his white brows furrow as he gasps for air while his large hands grip your bum, spreading out your cheeks for easier access through your hole. He desperately thrusts into you, unrhythmic and hips helpless from the warm seduction your plush walls have over him. His seeds shoot straight to your womb, filling you entirely with pulps of his cum leaking through your cunt. And it takes him a couple seconds to breathe as he rides out his high. 

And then you’ll be sandwiched in between the sofa and his heavy body, his cock rummaging inside, amplifying the sound of his member shoved through your dripping cunt. It’s loud and sloppy the way he fucks into you. Wanton and bashful in the way his muscles tighten in tandem with you clenching down when his head hits just the right spot. 

Your legs immediately wrap around his hips, securing him down to fuck you in that position. And he doesn’t retaliate from the limited position, instead, he welcomes it. With his face burrowed into the curve of your neck, his palms pushing your thighs to your chest—  biting, clawing, scratching, and licking — doing whatever it takes for you to rectify the burning ache in between your thighs, and for him to release his seeds into you again — again, and again, and again. 

“—toru! please,” you cried out and in your plea, he answered, “I’m right here,” Satoru groaned, “Keep up with me — fuck, I swear, jus’ a little more.”

Tightly wrapping his arms around you, his face nuzzled closely to your ear. Despite him already being inches deep within you, his every grunt and pant, the desperate moans he releases while he states your name, mixed with delirious curses has you craving for more.

With his mind hypnotized from the pleasure of his cock rummaging your insides, swaddled in care despite his cock bullying past your folds, he becomes possessive and carnal.

“This is mine,” he harshly bites your shoulders, pleased when you yelp while simultaneously tightening your reign on his cock burrowed within your walls, “all mine. You’re fucking mine,” he proclaimed.

“ — ‘Toru please keep going fuck right there!” you sobbed, cheeks stained with euphoric tears.

“Just say you want it,” he growls muffled with his lips smashed with yours, “tell me you want me.”

“yes, I want it. I want it so, so bad — need you so bad ‘Toru!” you mewled, letting out a soft whimper, feeling the vibrations of his grunts, pulses of ecstasy pulsing through your veins and straight to your core as you succumbed all authority and control for him to do whatever he desired.

“Fuck fuck fuckkkkkk.” he curses when he hears your words. Like a broken record, it echoes in his brain, with every release of his cum, his breath hitching and body vibrating as he finally reached his climax.

The voice of you calling out his name so dearly repeats so melodically in his ears. 

Soon, the room once filled with the savage slapping of wet skin and immoral use of dirty curses of pleasure while you both partook in unholy matrimony was now filled with a thick smell of post-sex pheromones, coupled with softened breaths and sweet hums of foolish lovers. 

“Be careful,” you softly mumbled, under him, while your hands lightly weaved through his damp hair. you placed a soft kiss on his bruised collar, his pale skin accentuated the blue-green tint, making it look far worse than it was.

“aw, you worried for me? I’m so touched,” he faked a sob as he pulled you tighter into his arms, mumbling while he lavished in your warmth.

“I still didn’t forgive you,” you lightly pulled on his hair. his eyes were droopy and his body felt even more heavy over your limp one. 

“Yea?” he hummed closer to your lips, gently kissing you while slowly grinding his hips to your wet core, “thought your harder harder ‘Toru harder was you forgiving me,” he lightly chuckled in between kisses.

“You’re the worst,” grumbling as you tightened your arms around his neck, snuggling closer to his warm body.

“Wow, you love me? I’m so touched,” Satoru softly chuckled, gently stroking your heated cheeks as he held you in his arms, he too, soaking in the warmth and feeling the beatings of your heart. 

—

Your eyes focused on nothing but him despite the chaos around you — just a couple of steps from touching his slumped body,

A loud buzzer goes off, quieting your thoughts, the loud announcement ringing static in your ears. 

“ Sustaining the blow, Gojo Satoru gets back on his feet again! He proves once again on the court he is The Honored One!” 

Two minutes till game —

Head throbbing, and every inch of his body burning from the strain, Satoru vigilantly fought for control of the puck. Every second felt like an eternity, and every stride of his skates felt tortuous as if every fiber of his muscle were being torn apart.

Satoru quickly passes to Haibara, and fastidiously receives the puck again when he's open. Faking a move to juke out his opponent, Satoru was getting closer to Kyoto’s goal. 

It was evident that fatigue was overwhelming each player on the court. With their voices hoarse, and sweat starting to sting their eyes, while puffs of smoke perspired with each agonizing breath causing their lungs to burn in their chest, no one was willing to back down.

Watching from the side while nervously biting your cheeks, you observed the game as Satoru flew through the rink. From the calmness of his eyes, and confidence in his strides, to the quickness of his feet and the gentle care to his game, things started to make sense.

For the man that obnoxiously barged into your life, ruining your pair of white shoes, to managing a spot in your heart, he sure made you fall — hard.

On one random afternoon while you watched him soundly sleep in your arms, lightly drooling as he mumbled something incoherent about some zunda and cream at Sendai Station — loving him came easily.

Because even if you tried running away, your feet would always end up back to him. And you knew the fire that you'll hold for him was going to burn, but you couldn’t resist the flame that he lit in your heart.

“With seconds to the clock, with Gojo Satoru’s lead, the Trailblazers are fighting desperately to win this game!”

Gojo Satoru — with him, it wasn’t exactly love at first sight, but it was something like that. 

“The Spartans are putting up a ferocious fight, Geto Suguru tries to steal the puck but is unsuccessful! Ladies and Gentleman, Gojo Satoru goes for the goal —”

Satoru sped his way across, the white tint of his jersey barely recognizable with his speed. The crowd cheers, sirens blow off to the throne the victors of this year’s champions.  

And currently, tears freely flowed down your cheeks. And you let them despite the blur as you rushed onto the rink, the soles of your shoes about to slip on the scratched ice.

Because the saddest word in the world is almost, and he was worth more than being dwindled down to a regretful almost. 

And if you had to defy fate, and create your own ending, so be it. You’ll suffer the consequence of meddling with destiny, and amend for your sins, in the future, when you’re dead if that meant there was a guarantee to have him in the present. 

Because in the world of almost 8 billion people, somehow your worlds are intertwined. 

“Be careful!” He panicked, throwing off his helmet as he rapidly skated over to you, “You’re going to hurt yo—”

Grabbing holding of his jersey, you slammed your lips with his — with thousands in the audience, cameras obnoxiously flashing up the rink in all directions. 

You won’t hear the end of it from Yaga-Sensei, he’s certainly, most definitely mad. 

Your anonymity is fucked, and now everyone will know you as the ‘girl that kissed Gojo Satoru’ — probably will be trending on all socials for at least a week, and that's being generous. 

Maybe you were delusional or so high off adrenaline that you didn’t notice the mayhem surrounding you  — especially not Satoru’s shocked expression when you suddenly kissed him. 

But your ignorant bliss was soon interrupted when you slightly opened your eyes and were met with a thousand flashing lights that almost blinded your vision.

“— oh my god!” you squealed, immediately embarrassed at what you just did, only for Satoru to quickly hide you in his embrace, your face nuzzled into his chest. 

“Looks like I’m not the one that’ll get in trouble by Sensei time,” he teased with his cheek placed on top of your head.

“Get me out of here,” you whined, “I’m so embarrassed…”

“Nah” Satoru cheekily smiled, tightly embracing you, “not until you give me a date.”

“You didn’t make the last shot stupid, Nanami did.”

“False, I assisted,” he stated after briefly calling out for one of his teammates, “If you weren’t so lovestruck by my handsome face, and actually saw my brilliant performance, then you would’ve seen the phenomenal play I had with Nanami.”

“Satoruuuu,” you whined, lightly stomping on your feet, getting increasingly squirmish from all the mess you’ve created.

“Told you,” whispering into your ear, “I’ll always win,” he stated before pushing his helmet over your head, reaching down to hold your hand as he led you out of the rink. The confidence in his walk looked almost arrogant, with you helplessly following, as he made his way to the lockers — a routined celebration after a game now as your boyfriend —

“Because you're my lucky charm, babe.”

author's note: if you made it to the end, thank you. i didn't expect a silly thought to lead to my distress about creating another au for him. But nonetheless, I hope you've all enjoyed ◡̈

[clownpi]

Fucken wild idea (you can use it if you want, I'll probs never make a fic in my life, I cant write for shit)

Jinx has a mental breakdown while living with Silco at like age 14 (before Vi gets out of prison) and thinks she's going to jinx Silco and getting independence for Zaun and pulls a journey to the west (yes I have been rereading the jttw don't @ me) and goes on a pilgrimage to find enlightenment/ how tf not to be a Jinx to everyone around me, everyone thinks she's fucken dead coz this was entirely impromptu, including Ekko and Zeri (she's there). And Jinx just kinda travels the world meeting new people making enemies and friends along the way including one "special" Demacian *wink* *wink*. She ultimately makes her way to shurima (note Janna has been guiding her journey) and finds like this sunken temple that was dedicated to Janna full of forgotten ancient relics and scripture detailing Zaun and Jannas history. And Jinx is all like tf do I do? And Janna visits her in her dreams and is like, daughter of mine, rewrite our old scripture and traditions into modern zauns language and once you've done become my priestess and bring back our culture to Zaun. And jinx is like seems legit and does that for like 2 and a half years (she's like 18 after this) and makes her way back to Zaun

Meanwhile back at the twin city's, Caitlyn broke Vi out of prison to help with her investigation, Vi finds out from sevika that jinx is probs dead, and Ekko basically confirms it, shit happens Zaun gets it's independence, a year goes by and Jinx 5 years older one pilgrimage and religious awakening later has finally made it back home to Zaun and Silco, Silco of course is ecstatic to have his daughter back and wants to show off to Zaun and Piltover that the princess and heir of Zaun has finally returned, Jinx is like umm dad, Ive had like a religious awakening and such and went on a pilgrimage across the world and I brought back a bunch of scripture of Janna and the church of the storm and I'm basically a priestess now can we umm get Jannas old church back up and running? Silco of course agrees, anything for his little girl. A gala at Piltover rolls around and what's the best way to announce the return of the princess of Zaun then to upstage a piltoven event? So Jinx and slico and the other chembarons go to the gala and guess who's there, Caitlyn, Vi, Ekko and Zeri also Lux and a bunch of Jinx's friends from around the world (jinx has so many political connections it's scary)

You can kinda imagine what happens next, Vi , Ekko and Zeri freak the fuck out, Jinx/powder is alive what? Ekko and Zeri are like do we need to fight she works for Silco, but this is a gala and Jinx is clearly been invited judging by her dress. While Vi is all like at first HOLY SHIT POWDER IS ALIVE, WHAT THE FUCK IS SILCO DOING WITH HER, WHY THE FUCK IS HE WITH HER, GET TF AWAY FROM MY SISTER! Jinx is like Vi wtf ,don't make a scene and drags her off. Caitlyn is all the while awkwardly standing there not really know what to do but be kinda excited to know that vis innocent baby sister is alive, and is like new sister pog as well as the fact she seems to be very close to a Crownguard who has been basically been a bodyguard and shadowed her the entire evening which can only mean good things(Ekko never had the heart to tell Vi jinx worked for Slico, and Vi just talked about her little sis to Cait all the time and Cait has gotten attached to her even tho she's never met her)

Eh can't be bothered to keep going, it's like past 12 am for me and I need to do work tomorrow

Night clown

We Prince of Egypt AU now, love it (I know the movie is based on the bible, but I've never read it so Prince of Egypt AU it is). Jinx having a spiritual journey just like Moses did while wandering through a desert.

You could almost cut everything and just focus on Shurima adventures too, especially if you wanted to have Jinx interaction with the colourful Shurima champs (or actively try to ignore them while doing her translations only to have them constantly bug her). Jinx could still have traveled all over the place, but you could keep it to backstory or references just to keep the story focused, anything you'd want more detail in could just be side stories.

Like Jinx has holed up in an old catacomb or something and just is constantly interrupted. Nasus could stop in to teach her how to read ancient Shuriman (useful, Jinx likes), which then makes Renekton come bursting in to fight (even when Nasus isn't there and after the first couple times of Jinx actually fearing for her life she just kinda gets used to it and tells him Nasus isn't there much to Renekton's disappointment).

Sivir could show up initially thinking it was a new tomb to explore only to find Jinx, somehow they hit it off and Sivir starts bugging her to raid tombs together since Jinx is an explosives expert + her lessons with Nasus means she can read ancient Shuriman and knows a lot about old architecture.

That could then lead Azir (leaning on his interactions with Sivir from LoR) to showing up trying to use Jinx as a means of getting close with Sivir or even just learning what she's doing, because she wants nothing to do with him. He'd just call her Scribe or something like "Scribe, how was my great granddaughters day? Did she....mention me at all?" Have Azir go off on "For your usefulness to me over the years I shall consider you an honorary Shuriman when Shurima finally rises to its true splendor under my rule! Feel pride in earning such a status Scribe! Maybe even Royal Scribe may be in your future should such usefulness continue!" to which Jinx just goes "Yeah sure, cool."

Taliyah could be the one normal friend she actually likes to see because when she see's Jinx is busy she'll just come back another time while leaving a note. They can go sand surfing together and Taliyah would deliver Jinx's mail correspondence with the other people she met on her journey to keep in touch.

Not really sure about the other Shuriman champions. Would be funny if Jinx went "You know, I think you're my favourite of all the Shuriman weirdos I've met, you keep things simple y'know?" towards Rammus who just responds with "OK" While with Amumu it's "Y'know I get you, but I'm still not hugging you. Maintain our agreed upon distance."

The reason so many years pass before Jinx finally leaves is because of the constant interruptions, but through it she ascends (hehe) to a level of patients not previously thought possible. She gets so used to dealing with the constant interruptions from these Gods and other powerful beings she doesn't even blink and just accepts it.

Upon actually returning to Zaun would be kinda funny if people were more weirded out at how incredibly mellow Jinx is than the fact she's actually back.

At that Gala would be where she could interact with the others she met on her journey. Everyone could be weirded out at the Shuriman delegates just approaching Jinx going "Scribe, Emperor Azir wishes to seek your wisdom on a most important topic. He wishes to know if you have any knowledge as to what Lady Sivir's favourite food might be? Emperor Azir wishes to gift her such for his upcoming visit."

Idk, does sound like a fun idea that I might possible look into doing something for (adding it to the pile ;-;) since Shurima is a pretty neat place which also bleeds into my childhood love of Egypt (I wanted to be an Egyptologist as a kid :3).

[kahluamystery97]

SATELLITE CH 3

CHAPTER THREE

 "That was really fucking promising." Liza said, throwing her purse into her Infiniti QX80. She was a tall commanding woman. She decided her car should be the same.

 'I don't want to jinx it but I think they loved the project." Alex sighed relieved. She leaned her back against Liza's beast of an SUV.

 "I mean if we can get this movie made I can die happy." Maggie said and tossed her own purse into her Mercedes convertible.  This film was her baby. A script and a new writer she found. She wanted this project more than she had ever wanted anything before.

 "Let's not die for it yet." Liza laughed. "Yet."

 "I vote we blow off the rest of the day, drink margs and gorge on Mexican." Alex volunteered. It was very un-Alex like of her.

 "Are you feeling okay?" Maggie asked, raising an eyebrow surprised at her sister. The mom of two never suggested getting wild or blowing off the day. If she wasn’t working she was home with her husband and kids.

 Liza chimed in, "Pod people got her. I knew it."

 “Oh you two are just hysterical. Real comedians.” Alex proceeded to flip them off. “ I just don't feel like working or being a mom just now. I would like to be irresponsible," Alex looked down at her Rolex, "at 1pm."

 "Wait for it because it isn't pod people, it’s Freaky Friday. I'm the tired one." Maggie covered her mouth as a yawn escaped.

 Her sister's both looked at her. Alex said,  "Probably because you are up at the ass crack of dawn working out. Let me guess running?"

 "Rowing." Maggie shrugged.  "Also, I was sort of up all night fucking that guy I met at that party."

 Liza's eyes shot up. "Which guy? The bartender?"

 "What party?" Alex asked.

 "That shitty party at Martin Graves house that Liza dragged me to. I was bored out of my mind so I decided to drink five whiskeys apparently."

 “You took her to a Martin Graves party?” Alex gave Liza and accusatory look. “You have heard what happens to pretty young things there, right?”

 “Al, nothing like that happened. I was okay. I agreed to go. Making a move for some last minute funding if this fell through.”

 Liza narrowed her eyes, “I would never let anything happen to her.”

 Alex touched Liza’s arm. “I know. I’m sorry. Liza gave her a smile.

 "Ok so you met a hot bartender? Oh Margaret we need all the dirty deets. See, let's go have drinks and you can tell me everything." Alex pleaded.

 "He's not a bartender. Dirty deets? Seriously, who are you? " Maggie asked.

 "El Coyote. We are going - now.  I'm driving over with Maggie. Sail the yacht over by yourself." Alex mocked Liza's SUV.

 Liza rolled her eyes. " Jesus Christ Al."

 Maggie and Alex got into the convertible and drove out of the parking garage.

 "Why does it kill Liza to be fun now? Remember fun? " Alex sighed.

 "Al are you having some weird mid-life crisis?" Maggie asked as she turned right.

 "Perhaps. Just feeling like an old woman. Maybe I'm a little jealous you’re picking up hot bartenders or not bartenders and having late nights. If my night is late it is because one of the kids won't sleep. I love my life but some days I want to be young and carefree again. I want to have sex without having to plan it like a mission to Mars."

 Maggie reached over and squeezed her sister's hand. "Get Perry to take you out or better yet take you away. Liza and I got the girls, you know that."

 Alex smiled. "I know. You guy -"

 The phone ringing through the Bluetooth cut her off and startled them both. The screen flashed 'H - Hills Party'. Maggie put her fingers to her lips to shush Alex.

 She may have been giddy but Maggie cooly answered, "Hello."

 "So..." Harry said.

 "So?" Maggie asked.

 "You were quite excited about your very important meeting today.  So how did it go? "

 "Good, really good." She said enthusiastically. "I'm not saying another word though because I'm a bit superstitious."

 "Would you like to celebrate or is that bad luck?" He asked.

 Alex was staring hard at her. She started nodding her head and giving her a thumbs up.

 "Actually I'm headed out with my sisters to El Coyote."

 "No shit?" He asked. "I'm over at CBS Studios. Maybe I could meet you afterwards?" CBS was conveniently right around the corner from the famed Mexican restaurant.

 Maggie was afraid Alex was going to sprain her neck. She was nodding so hard.

 "Sure. I'll text you." Maggie offered. Alex silently cheered and then began to make some crude gestures. Maggie nearly burst into laughter watching her grown ass sister act like a twelve year old boy.

 "I'll be here." He said.

 Maggie disconnected the call before finally giving into the hysterics she was holding in.

 "What the fuck?" Alex screeched laughing now too. "I don't care what he looks like. I nearly just nearly made a mess of my pants - that voice. I’ve changed my mind I do care what he looks like. Tell me you have a photo of him? But don't show me if he isn't good looking. In my mind he is amazing.”

 Maggie was laughing so hard now. "Oh my God girl you are a disaster. He is very hot actually."

 “So wait. Sexy British accent. He is hot. No way you had a fucking orgasm? God doesn’t give with both hands Mags.”

“Try three orgasms.” She looked over the top of her sunglasses at Alex who had her mouth wide open in shock.

 “Three? I’m not even sure that’s physically possible. Three?”

 “Three. Do you think I’m making it up?”

 “Course not. Fuck me. I feel like I need a cigarette.”

 “You gave up smoking like a million years ago.”

 “Yeah well if I had three orgasms in one night I would pick it back up quick. Three. My mind is blown.”

 “Mine too.”

 Before they could go on she pulled the car into the parking lot and got her valet ticket. Liza was directly behind them.

 The three walked in and stood in front of the hostess stand.  The Dunne sisters were a stunning trio. Maggie the youngest was also the shortest. All three had piercing blue eyes. Liza, the oldest, had long dark hair, plush eyelashes and high cheekbones. Alex, the middle child was as tall as Liza, full figured, long legs. Blonde and blue eyed like Maggie. Alex had a stylish chin length bob with side swept bangs.

 "Booth in the back?" The hostess asked them. They were regulars.

 "If you have one." Maggie smiled brightly.

 "Of course. Follow me.”

 Once the sisters were settled and margaritas ordered Alex piped up. "Maggie is meeting the guy from last night after this. He is some sort of British sex wizard.”

 Liza looked up from her phone distracted. "The bartender is a wizard? Only in LA I guess.”

 "Oh my God he isn't a bartender. I swear I have said that multiple times. Are you deaf or senile?”

 Liza shot her a look. "Maybe a little bit of both. Or maybe I don't care who you bang as long as you don't end up all over social media and gossip rags because he can't keep his mouth shut."

 "He's a singer. He’s very well known and he doesn't want to be all over the tabloids either. "

 "A singer?" Alex asked. "That makes so much sense. That voice. Wait, what’s his name? I have to Google him."

 "What are you going on about?" Liza asked.

 "He called while I was in the car with Mags. Super sexy British voice. Maggie had THREE orgasms last night!" Alex announced a bit too loudly.

 Maggie flushed bright red as she looked around. “Louder so the kitchen staff can hear it. This is totally going to be on Deuxmoi. Anon pls - Maggie Dunne had three orgasms with a wizard.”

  Alex rolled her eyes and waved her hands. “Oh get over yourself.”

 "I know I met this person but I literally have no memory of him." Liza shrugged. “Seriously, three?” Maggie nodded. Liza smiled and looked down at the menu.

 "Seriously give me his name." Alex was poised to type into her phone. Maggie took a beat longer than what Alex was expecting. "What is his name Maggie?!" She yelped even more loudly than before. Some patrons nearby looked over.

 The waitress appeared with their margaritas at that moment. "Can I get her a second one right away? Sorry it is sort of a margarita emergency." Maggie flashed the pearly whites at the waitress and nodded toward Alex.

 "Sure. I'll be right back."

 “What constitutes a margarita emergency? Liza asked sipping at her drink and trying not to spill. 

  Maggie only raised her eyebrows and gestured at Alex as to say, “This. Her.”

 "Sorry I'm really excitable today." Alex said flushed.

 "No bullshit here - kid are you okay? Need an edible?” Liza asked as she motioned toward her gigantic Prada bag which always had an edible or ten in it.

 "I have no clue what is going on with me. Sorry. Mags diagnosed me with a mid-life crisis earlier."

 "Her initials are MD, not her profession." Liza offered with a smile as she sipped the frozen concoction.

 "She's not wrong. I haven't even played a doctor yet." They all laughed.

 The waitress brought another margarita for Alex and took their order. Unsurprisingly they all ordered the chicken fajita plate. Maggie could pick at the chicken and veggies and not get asked too many questions about what she was and was not eating.

 "OK so I'm going to ask you one more time, calmly. What is his name?" Alex gulped the last of her first margarita and started in on her second.

 Maggie lowered her voice and moved in closer,  "Harry Styles."

 "God that sounds familiar. Isn't he in a boy band? How old is this kid? We don’t need that sort of press." Liza asked as she tapped away at an email on her phone.

 "He was in a band. He’s a fully grown adult thank you very much." Maggie said, sipping her margarita.

 Alex had her head down scrolling through her iPhone. "Oh he sure grew up. Yum that mouth.”

 Maggie looked over with flushed cheeks. “Yeah that mouth.”

  “Full service?

  “Mmm hmm.” 

 Alex offered the phone to Liza. She shrugged.  "Oh that guy."

 They rolled their eyes at Liza. "So do you like him?" Al asked.

 "He's really nice, seems down to earth but I don't really know him. Didn't know if we'd talk again after he left this morning."

 Liza looked Maggie in the eye. "So now he's called you. Are you interested?"

 "You guys know I don't have a lot of time in my life for that. Casual has always worked better for me. I’m not in the market for a relationship."

 Alex was deep into that second margarita. "Can't be casual forever Margaret. Eventually you need your teammate. You deserve some happiness."

 "I have my teammates and you both make me mostly happy. Except you with the judgy eyes." Maggie smiled at Liza.

 "You know what she's saying though." Liza ignored the rib and doubled down on what Alex was expressing.

 "I do. I don't feel lonely and I'm not planning on living a life of solitude or anything.  I just happen to like my life right now."

 Maggie wasn't lying. She did like her life. She answered to no one. She felt safe behind her walls. She felt like she couldn't be hurt or exploited. Feeling safe was everything to her after some of the dark shit that happened in her past. She understood why her sisters might want her to couple up. Liza and Alex married two of the best men ever created. Maggie was so lucky to have them as her brothers. Along with the girls they took such good care of her.

 "I like all of our lives right now. Look at us. We have come a long fucking way." Alex laughed hard. She was definitely on her way to drunk.  "Can we get three more of these?"  She pointed to the empty glasses.

 Liza motioned for two not three. The waitress nodded.

 "He dated Taylor Swift." Alex said seriously looking up from her phone.  "Oh no."

 "Which album? What did he do?" Liza asked seriously.  

 Maggie said. "1989. Style. Wildest Dreams.”

 Liza and Alex looked at each other. "Okay 1989 isn't that bad." Alex said. "I mean it could be worse. Though there is always Clean and Out of the Woods. He’s a bad driver! Be careful.”

 "At least it’s not Dear John. Remember the time I 'accidentally' spilled red wine on John Mayer. That piece of shit." Liza spat angrily.

 "How could I forget?" Maggie cringed remembering John Mayer pulling out all his best lines and Liza dousing him in red wine and pulling Maggie away to a ‘very important call’ at 11pm.

 "Fine but if you go near John Mayer I will have you put down." Liza said.

 Maggie held her palms up. "I am fairly certain he wouldn’t let any of the Dunne’s in a ten mile radius of him after that.”

 When the last fajita was eaten Alex looked up and announced. "I'm totally shitfaced. It is 3 in the afternoon and I'm shitfaced." Then she began to laugh and laid down in the round booth.

 Liza and Maggie exchanged a look, their eyebrows high on their foreheads. "Holy shit." Liza mouthed.

 Maggie was definitely not going to be driving but she wasn't drunk. She should probably let Harry know she was just going to let Liza take her home. When she made that announcement at the table Alex began laughing again even harder.

 "What’s so funny?" Liza asked pulling her upright.  “Get it together woman.”

 Alex put Maggie’s phone down in front of her.  "I texted him. He’s on his way over to pick you up."

 Maggie looked stricken. "You texted who? What? Harry? What? What did you say? What did you do?" She opened her phone quickly.

 'Had a three margarita lunch. Now is probably a good time for you to pick me up.'

 Harry responded, 'On my way now.'

 "I am going to murder you." Maggie said through gritted teeth. This only made Alex laugh harder with a snort.

 Liza looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Christ the two of you. I know you were joking about Deuxmoi earlier but I am definitely going to get a fucking call on Sunday."

 A few minutes later all three of them looked up to see Harry walking toward them. He was in a plain white t-shirt which displayed all his black ink and rippling muscles. Jeans and black Vans to round his look out.  His sunglasses were perched on top of his head keeping his unruly curls back. He smiled a perfectly white, dimpled smile.

 Alex took a sharp breath. Maggie took a sip of water. All the blood in her body rushed directly between her legs. She slid out of the booth.  "Hi. I didn't expect you to come all the way in."

 "Felt sort of rude sitting in the parking lot and texting." He smiled and then looked over to her sisters.  

 Alex drunkenly struggled to navigate her way out of the circular booth. Harry offered her his hand. She smiled up, dazed and took it. "I'm Harry," He introduced himself as he helped her up.

 "I'm married." Alex said with a hiccup. "To Perry. He is very tall. Even taller than you." She looked Harry up and down a few times. "Harry rhymes with Perry." Another hiccup.

 Harry looked puzzled but smiled wider. Maggie was flushed red and worried her armpits might start sweating anytime now.

 Liza stepped in. "This is Alex. She doesn't normally consume four margaritas midday so if you'll excuse her. I'm Liza." She offered Harry her hand.  They shook. Liza then looked him up and down with immediate disapproval just as she had done the first time they met.

 Harry felt her dislike for him. Liza wasn't subtle. He was so used to charming people right out of the gate.  Liza made him uncomfortable and awkward. That people pleaser in him wanted to win her over.

 "Nice to meet you both. Can I offer you ladies a ride?"

 Alex got a big grin on her face. Maggie gave her a death stare. She knew there was definitely a sex joke about to fly out of her sisters mouth. Alex clamped her lips together.

 "I'm the sober sister. Since this one is married to Perry I think I'll take her. I guess you take that blonde one." Liza offered.

 "Only seems appropriate." Harry said.

 Liza led them out. Alex swayed unsure on her Manolos. Harry offered his arm to her. She wrapped her hand around his bicep. Maggie trailed them.

 "I mentioned I'm married to Perry, right?" She asked him.

 "You did mention that. Perry is a very lucky man."  He said amused by Alex's drunk antics.

 "Oh good. He would want me to remember that. And I'm a mom. And I don't really drink. And I'm old."

 "Old? No way." He said.

 "I mean I'm Hollywood old. I'm 39. Tell him Maggie." Alex turned around to her sister.

 "Yes you are Hollywood old. When I'm 39 I'll be playing George Clooney’s mother." Maggie repeated a line she had said many times before.

 "Well I'm not from Hollywood. In the real world you are young. Old people aren't this beautiful day drunk on margaritas." He smiled over at Al as they walked down the few steps and out into the parking lot.

 "I like you even if you aren't a bartender and are likely a terrible driver. Please be careful with my baby sister." Al slurred.  Harry was totally confused. He just continued to smile.

 The valet saw Liza and ran for her SUV. Liza spoke to the other valet about leaving Maggie's car. Liza told Maggie she would make sure the car got to her house.

 "This is me." Harry motioned to the black Range Rover near the front door. "It was so nice to meet you. Both of you."

 "We should do this again sometime." Alex said. "This was so fun. You are fun Harry." Alex gave him a hug. He was laughing now and hugging her back. “Remember what I said about driving safely.”

 Liza's SUV pulled up. "Get in the car Drunkerella." Liza said to Alex.

 "Bye Bubs. I love you. Drink lots of water ok." Maggie hugged Alex and kissed her cheek.

 "Aww I love you my baby. My first baby." Alex kissed her forehead and pulled her in close looking weepy. "Do you know when you were little  -"

 "Fucking hell Al get in the goddamm car before you start crying." Liza yelled from the driver's seat. Maggie helped Alex in.

 "You aren't the boss of me, Liza.  I'm not scared of you. I'll kick your ass."

 "Goodbye you two. Have a pleasant drive all that way together. Sad I'm going to miss it." Maggie laughed as she shut the door.

 Now both Maggie and Alex turned to flip her off.  Then they were pulling out onto Beverly.  

 Harry had tears in his eyes from laughing.  "What the hell was that? Your sisters are fantastic. What does she know about my driving? Did she talk to my mum?”

 Maggie lightly shoved his arm. He led her to his SUV and opened the passenger door. Harry waved a thank you to the valets and then got in the driver's side.

 "So Maggie Dunne, what do you feel like doing?" He asked as he pulled out of the lot.

 "Well Harry Styles I have eaten. I have had margaritas. Not sure there is anything better than that."

 "More margaritas?"

 "And just like that you figured it all out." She smiled over to him.

 "A frozen Casamigos margarita by the pool?"  Harry raised an eyebrow.

 "Yes please."

 "Is my place okay?" Maggie nodded her approval. "So your sisters are hysterical.  Oh my God I might love Alex."

 "Everyone loves Alex. She's the mom. She's not whoever that lady was. I mean not normally. She is going to be mortified tomorrow but I'm glad she had fun today. You have a sister, right? What’s she like?"

 "Really smart. She's sarcastic. Reminds me a lot of Alex when she has had too much to drink. Whiskey not tequila. Like your sisters, she's my best friend."

 "Teller of truths? An ass kicker? And she is in England?"

 "Yes, exactly.  She does live in London. She comes quite a bit to visit me here which is nice. I mean I have to annoy her into it but she gives in."

 "It is nice to have that. You know I moved here alone. Broke. I had this dream that I would be on my favorite soap opera. Maybe go to college. I got my role on the soap and then a few months later I got a part in a Scorcese movie. Once my dreams started to become a reality it was hard to enjoy it without them. So they gave up their lives at home and moved here. All six of us lived in my little house."

 "No way! Your house you live in now?"

 "Yup. It was crazy but still some of my happiest memories were made together there."

 Maggie looked around. "You live near the Strip?" They were on Sunset.

 "Above." Harry pointed up.

 She smiled "Have to be close to the excitement?"

 "I did when I bought it. Now it feels a little silly." He said as he pulled at his bottom lip.

 Maggie pressed her thighs together feeling aroused just by that simple move. He was effortlessly sexy.

 The Range Rover climbed the hills. Harry hit the clicker and a large gate opened. A white three story house with massive windows and glass railed terraces stood before them. He parked just outside of the garage.

 They let themselves out of the car. Harry looked Maggie up and down for what was probably the millionth time in the thirty minutes since he had picked her up. She was in a white lightweight tweed Chanel dress with drop waist and black ribbon trim, black tights and black patent heels. The dress had a Chanel signature brooch pinned over Maggie's heart. Her blonde hair was loose and her lips painted perfectly red.

 He closed the distance between them. "You look really beautiful today." Harry said.

 A small smile danced on Maggie's lips. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him.

 "Thank you. This is my ladylike business meeting look. Hoped I could seal the deal in it."

 Now it was Harry's turn to smile. "Oh you've sealed the deal Miss Dunne."

 She rolled her eyes. "Is that you trying to get in my pants? Ugh, that was tragic." They laughed.

 Harry took Maggie's hand and led her into the house. She looked around at all the dark furniture and tall ceilings. This was an LA bachelor pad for sure. There was some large pieces of art hanging but beyond that not much else said Harry lived there.

 "I feel you judging me. I was 20 when I bought this place." He said a little self-consciously. "And I know it isn’t homey and warm like your place. I just don’t spend enough time here for that.”

 "I'm not judging you. Stop being such a weirdo." She laughed.

 "How about I make us those drinks? Then we can go out by the pool?"

 "I'm in." Maggie followed Harry to the kitchen.

 Harry fussed around making drinks in an oversized frozen margarita maker. Maggie stepped out of her heels. She laid her Chanel bag on the stool of the kitchen island.  

 "Salted rim?" He inquired, looking over as she shimmied out of her black tights.

 Maggie sighed in relief as she was freed. "Yes please. Sorry I have been dying to take those off."

 "Get comfortable. No worries." Harry salted both glasses and poured the drinks.

 Maggie slipped her dress off and put it on the back of the chair. She stood clad in her white boy shorts and matching bra. "I mean I can't wear tweed by the pool." She shrugged accepting the drink.

 Harry swallowed hard. Then he pulled his t-shirt off and then quickly shucked off his jeans. Now he stood in his black boxer briefs. His palms itched with want to touch her.  Maggie let her eyes wander freely.

 "You lead the way."  Her tongue slowly licked a spot of the salt and then sipped the cold margarita.

 Harry's pulse quickened at the sight. He turned and pushed the large wall of glass doors open.

 They made themselves comfortable on a double wide chaise. Maggie leaned back facing the pool. Harry faced her with his legs crossed in front of him pretzel style.

 'What sort of torture devices were you wearing?" He asked, looking at the red angry creases in her feet.

 She smiled looking down.  "Very expensive ones. They're ok."  Harry pulled her foot into his lap and began to gently massage. Maggie's eyes fluttered and she bit down on her bottom lip.

 "Better?" He asked.

 "Are you bad at anything?"

 He thought. 'So many things.’ Instead he laughed and kissed the pad of her foot. Then he started on the second foot.

 Maggie slowly sipped the margarita and watched Harry. Her body was on fire. Normally she wouldn't see someone twice and even so never two days in a row.

 Once Harry kissed the second foot she put her drink down. Then rolled off the chaise and onto her feet. His eyes followed her as she walked to the pool and gracefully dove in.

 He took that as his cue to follow her. Harry was not quite as graceful but he launched his long body in.  Making a splash he heard Maggie laugh. It was a lovely sound.  Before he had blinked all the water from his eyes he felt her legs wrap around his middle.

 Maggie pressed her lips to his. He parted them to allow her tongue entry. He had wanted to kiss her from the moment he picked her up today.  He wrapped an arm around her waist and gently pulled her in by the back of her neck. She smiled against his lips.

 Looking down at her now sheer bra and seeing her pink nipples stand at attention made him instantly hard.  Maggie pushed his wet hair back. Her hands slipped down and laid loosely around his neck.

 "Thank you for coming to pick me up."

 "Well thank you for coming over. If I'm honest I was nervous to call. We didn't really establish any ground rules this morning."

 "Ground rules? I think you should know I'm not incredibly fond of rules. I like organization and order. Rules not so much."

 Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh a bad girl, a rule breaker." He let his hands run down her back and squeeze her perfect ass.

 Maggie let out a surprised squeal. "I'm not sure I'm quite a badass. Just not a fan of rules. What sort of ground rules are we talking about?"

 "I guess I just meant when I left this morning we didn't establish if that was a one time thing,  if I should call you or you should call me."

 "Yeah that. This morning I was so focused on the meeting I was going to. I'm happy you called.  I had fun last night." She smiled as she tangled her fingers in the back of his hair.

"You are very easy to have fun with."

 "So are you. So let's not overthink it."  Maggie leaned back into the water to get her hair wet. Harry quietly groaned at the sight of her nipples straining against the sheer white bra. "How about one ground rule?"  

 "I'm listening."

 "We can call or text whenever we want but no pressure. Busy? Not feeling it? No problems. Keep it casual."

 "You have yourself a deal. Should we shake on it?"

 Maggie shook her head. "I don't want to shake your hand. I want you to take me inside and fuck me." She said boldly in his ear thanks to tequila.

 Harry moved swiftly with Maggie still around him to get to the pool stairs. He kissed her one last time before they untangled themselves. Maggie took the hand he offered her as they rushed toward the house.

A few orgasms later …

 “What happened here? Appendix?” Harry asked. He let his finger linger over a small white scar on her lower pelvis as he kissed her shoulder.  He was propped up on his elbow, legs tangled with hers. Maggie gave him a small smile.

 “Uh no. I had a tummy tuck and up here if you look close enough you can see where my arms were done. After I lost all of that weight I just had too much loose skin. Needed a little surgical help.” She shrugged it off.

 “I’m sorry that was rude of me. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t know.” He stuttered, turning a bit red with embarrassment.

 “It’s ok. You didn’t know I was fat or I had cosmetic surgery? Everyone knows I used to be fat. You are a shit google searcher if you completely missed my fat pictures. I mean no matter how many photos are taken of you and your abs in your bikini people will always put them side by side with your fat photos.”

 Maggie reached for the sheets and pulled them up a bit self conscious. Harry pulled her in closer by the waist. He leaned in and kissed her mouth as he gently pulled the sheet back.

 “Don’t do that. I’m sorry I didn’t know. I’m not trying to embarass or hurt you.”

 “Honestly it’s who I am. It’s part of my story.  I just thought you knew.”

 “Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asked unsure if he should drop the topic or not.

 “Not much to talk about. I used to be fat and now I’m not. It isn’t that deep.” Lies. Liar. It’s deep. Really fucking deep. You are never getting close enough for that buddy.

 He nodded sensing he should leave this alone for now. “Would you object to a shower together and a snack?”

 Maggie leaned up and captured his lips between hers. She cocked an eyebrow when she asked, “What sort of snack are we talking about?”

 Harry’s tongue trailed down her body until it reached the scar. He marked her there and it soothed it with his tongue. He made his short descent down her body to between her legs. “I was actually thinking about feeding you but I’ll take mine first.”

[damienthepious]

wahoooooo tuesday time :3c

heart beats best in a bed (chapter 17)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ch 5] [ch 6] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [ch 11] [ch 12] [ch 13] [ch 14] [ch 15] [ch 16] [ao3] [ch 18] [???] [Rating: Mature Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien, Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla Characters: Sir Damien, Lord Arum, Rilla, (others? eventually?) Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Rivals With Benefits, (I CANT BELIEVE THAT WAS ALREADY A TAG THANK FUCK), Mutual Pining, Secret Relationship, Denial of Feelings, Alternate Universe, (it’s not ROLE reversal it’s like. RELATIONSHIP reversal), (the timing is fucked with), (who knows who first), Sex with Feelings, Relationship Negotiation, (i literally never know how to tag things), (some miscommunication and mild angst in the future), Pining While Fucking, Porn With Plot Summary: Sir Damien is a committed, dedicated knight with a shining record and spotless reputation. Barring, of course, his one minor indiscretion, his singular, secret exception. It does not bear mentioning, of course. The arrangement is purely practical, purely physical, utterly inconsequential, of course. It is not as if a monster would- could care for him in any meaningful way, after all. The idea is impossible; as impossible as the idea of Sir Damien possessing any feelings whatsoever for the monster in return. Chapter Summary: The rest of Sir Damien's morning, and all that entails. Chapter Notes: looks like im on a roll with this one! of course, saying that just now might have jinxed it. oh well, guess we'll see what happens next week :3c also I've been trying to politely look away from the chapter count on this beast but i'm fairly certain that it's going to (somehow) wind up longer than Scattered, just considering how much plot is still left in my back pocket. Exciting!

also ALSO, chapter warning for a panic attack. take care of yourselves!

~

Walking home from his rendezvous in the sun feels precisely as strange as seeing Arum in the sun had, though in a much different way.

(He would be embarrassed, now, about his desperation for the monster this morning, his neediness, had Lord Arum not responded with equal hunger.)

The jungle is oddly beautiful, oddly peaceful, in the early morning light. The heat is still mellow, now, and the dew has not yet infused the air above with the usual sticky humidity. There is a particularly alluring sort of Tranquility to it; if Damien had not already delayed his morning so egregiously (if he could not hear Lord Arum's voice in his mind admonishing him for even considering the risk of lingering in the jungle without his armor), he might be tempted to pause, for a moment, and find a place to meditate out here in the wilds.

As it is-

He tries to enjoy the peace, while it lasts. Tries not to think too hard on any particular source of worry, while he walks. Tries not to think about his failings, his guilt, his sins, his-

Deep breath. Slow steps. Easier thoughts.

Perhaps he will stop by Rilla's hut on the way. He won't be able to bring her any breakfast, of course, coming from this direction, but it is so lovely to spend the time with her regardless, and it isn't as if he is meant (allowed) to report in for another few days, so it isn't as if he'll truly be missed.

He can pass along Arum's oddly charming, oddly pleasant threat, as well. He wonders what the monster will decide upon, for his return gift, and he thinks- Rilla was not lying, when she told him to claim a competitive spirit as the motivation for her own present, and likely this exchange will not end after Arum's next volley. Damien suspects (with a smile) that this endeavor will remain ongoing. Arum is stubborn, Damien knows this well, but- Rilla has no lack of tenacity for her own part.

(Arum with his claws trailing gently through the dirt, his eyes intent, his smile such a subtle, tender curl of the lip)

Damien sighs.

He does not know how it is possible for one person to feel so unworthy and sinful, while nevertheless-

More and more, Damien cannot help but feel blessed.

... Saint Damien forgive him, for that. He knows he does not deserve such a feeling. He does not deserve Rilla and her cleverness and her understanding and her kindness, nor does he deserve to feel so utterly safe and spoiled in a monster's den-

Rather. Den is... an unkind word, perhaps.

(Damien wakes before Arum, cradled in the glowing dark safety of his Keep.)

Damien shakes his head, trying to clear it, blinking against the sun as it filters and flickers through the trees.

(Damien wakes before Lord Arum, and it may very well be the first time he has ever seen the monster so... relaxed. So at ease, so content. His scales warmed by Damien's heat, his breaths slow, his face untroubled and his limbs curled loose and lazy around Damien as he watches the monster sleep.

It is well before dawn, he thinks, the strange mellow glow of Arum's Keep suffusing the space with just enough light that he can examine the monster's face, luxuriously detailed from this close by.

Damien cannot help the smile that sweeps his lips, the way he sighs with a fluttering, strange happiness, before the guilt in the pit of his stomach wakes as if alerted by the more gentle feeling. He tries to sigh quietly, the relaxation in his body thwarted by the cold interruption of reality, and he very, very carefully extricates his limbs from Arum's lazy tangle, standing to stretch.

He doesn't...

He can't be certain how early it is, ensconced in the Keep's structure, but- there looks to be a balcony, so Damien slips through a curtain of something like trailing willow branches, inhaling the cooler air outside.

Judging by the particular silvering edge of the sky above the dark shapes of the swamp below, Damien still has at least an hour until dawn. Though- the glow of the swamp below does unsettle that estimation, somewhat.

He supposes he should have expected the flora outside the Keep to be infused with magic, as well. There are scattered pools of luminosity in the gloom, enormous violet buds like sentinels out at their intermittent posts. It is... rather beautiful, especially painted below him like this, like some sort of surreal artistic mural laid out at his feet.

Damien jolts at the sudden interruption of song, scattering his thoughts, and- the Keep, that must be what- it pauses its song as if surprised in turn by Damien's flinch. After a moment it sings again, and Damien realizes only belatedly the hushed tone of its twin voices.

He glances over his shoulder, back through the curtain of vines, but Lord Arum still sleeps, tangled limbs in silk sheets, and Damien turns back towards- well, not towards the Keep itself, but- more towards where the song seems to be currently emanating from.

It... it sings something, clearly, but Damien does not know enough of the creature's unvoiced language to even begin to interpret. It sounds... serious, at the very least. Hushed, still, and perhaps a little urgent.

"Er... I apologize, of course, but... I cannot understand you. Should I wake Lord Arum, perhaps? So he may-"

It interrupts, still quiet, and the denial in its voice is clear enough that Damien, for this particular sentiment, does not require translation.

"Well," he continues, wary, "if you do not wish for your lord to participate in this conversation, whatever it is, I cannot say how fruitful it may be. You seem to understand me, but without understanding in the other direction-"

The Keep sings again, a pleading sort of song, and then it- drifts vines down from the overhang of the balcony, slow and careful. Damien tenses, instinct winning over- politeness, perhaps, and the movement stops for a moment. The Keep pleads again, more gently, and Damien thinks that he hears a question and a reassurance in its voice. He hesitates (a monster, an enormous monster with powers untold and unknowable and considering the sheer scope of it and its ability to shuttle Lord Arum two weeks of travel to the south at will-), but-

(It is simply... protective)

Damien nods, but then he isn't certain if the creature will understand that. "Er- alright. What are you...?"

He lifts his own hands out, still wary, and the Keep gives a relieved trill as it lowers its vines, curling around his hands and moving them very carefully, turning them palms up, cupping them together and then trailing a vine into the resulting space.

It sings a purposeful song, the tone very familiar and warm, like a teacher giving a very simple lesson, perhaps, and though Damien still does not understand, he tries to listen.

In his palms, a plant grows upwards, and Damien thinks again of the honeysuckle Arum grew for him, so long ago. It isn't honeysuckle this time, though. Damien doesn't recognize it until the pale lily blooms, the creamy delicate white of its trumpet bowing slightly under its own weight. He exhales a surprised breath, taken by the beauty of the thing, taken by the aching likeness to Lord Arum and his proud frill, but-

The Keep is not yet done with its explanation, apparently. Another plant grows as it sings, curling vines around the stem of the lily, caressing the leaves and snaking around the neck of the flower, and eventually- strangling it, snapping the flower from the stem, and leaving the second plant to bloom in its place.

And the replacement plant-

It is honeysuckle, again. Strangling the life out of the lily.

Damien swallows. The Keep releases his hands, tenderly pulling the exemplary plants away and carrying them off somewhere unknowable, and it gives another, even more gentle song, still pleading and, perhaps, a little apologetic, and Damien tries to think, tries to understand-

Tries to interpret that demonstration in any way but the most obvious, because-

"Keep," he says, very slowly. "Keep... I... I wouldn't hurt him. We've promised, and- and even if we hadn't, Keep, I would not hurt him."

There is a pause, and then the Keep sings again, in the tone of someone very delicately delivering terrible news, and Damien wishes with his entire being that he could simply know what this creature means-

"I don't want to hurt him," he says, more decisively. "I know- he says that you are protective of him, and I- I understand that, and to be entirely honest I am extraordinarily grateful that he has someone to take care of him, to ensure that he does not overwork himself, to comfort him when he needs. I am unspeakably grateful, and I understand that who I am, what I am must inevitably be a source of concern, but- Keep, I swear to you, I would never hurt him."

It sings again, and Damien realizes that it is the same song as the previous, but its tone is a little more desperate, a little more frustrated, and it reaches towards him again with its vines. Damien tries not to flinch, this time, but it only moves to press against his sternum, splaying out runners like fingers of a spindly hand, and then it pulls back and repeats the song.

"I don't understand," Damien says, apologetically, and then-

Arum stirs, back in his room, and Damien turns to look over his shoulder automatically, magnetized by the noise. The Keep whispers its next song, even more pleading, and Damien realizes, recognizes, knows that it is asking him not to let Arum know that it tried to tell him-

Whatever, exactly, it just tried to tell him.

Damien tries to smile, despite his confusion, and he gives a small nod before he brushes the curtain aside and smiles more fully for the monster as he grumbles himself awake.)

Damien frowns, the leaf litter of the jungle crunching beneath his boots, the whir of insects in his ear.

(Arum pulls Damien back into the bed with a growl, nipping at his shoulder and tugging him tight against his chest for a few more moments of stolen heat, and the encounter with the Keep escapes Damien's mind entirely until-)

Now.

The Keep is protective, Damien reminds himself, still frowning. Of course it would not trust a knight with its lord. It cannot know all that has passed between Arum and himself, and it must only have Arum's assurances to comfort it in his safety. Damien knows that assurances can ease worry, momentarily, but they tend to fade into uncertainty with little enough time. Saints know that Arum likely is not the most comforting to his Keep in this particular arena, if his grumpy berating the night before is any example. The poor thing must simply be frightened of Damien's position, and of his proximity to Arum.

Though...

The splayed vines pressed to his sternum (his heart?) like a gentle hand. He wishes he could just ask, wishes he could understand. He doesn't want to hurt Arum, and if the Keep thinks that he will- or-

Or...

The repeated song, each time he said he wouldn't hurt Lord Arum. Gentle frustrated denial. Damien thought, at the time, that maybe it was saying that he would, but-

Hand to his heart. The particular cadence, the pleading.

(You already have.)

Damien slows, stops for a moment. He shakes his head.

How? How would he have- did the Keep mean the argument, the other night? When Damien accidentally made Arum cut him, when he spoke carelessly and nearly- does the Keep know of that? Or has Damien done something else, careless and foolish, perhaps earlier in their arrangement, when Damien knew Arum less well, when he assumed the monster more- more callous, when he assumed the monster had less capacity in the way of feelings-

He flushes with that memory, now, the idea of Lord Arum of all creatures as some unfeeling, cruel thing, the idea of the monster who holds him so gently, the monster who will card claws through his hair and hush him and hold him in the depths of his panic without complaint and refusing apology, the monster who tends his garden with the care of true, earthy love, the monster who laughs with delight whenever he surprises Damien, the monster who-

Oh. He- Damien must have, then, mustn't he? Sometime in the earlier days, sometime in the dark of his denial, when he would- when he would sleep with the monster and then hate himself so thoroughly that it would bleed through into his words, when he would snipe at the creature to distract from his own guilt-

He realizes that he must have started walking again, at some point, his feet rushing forward without input from his mind, agitated into motion, and he recognizes the trees, recognizes the sound of the chimes in Rilla's garden, another minute's walk away at most, and-

He feels the familiar heaviness in his throat, the sensation of buzzing tightness in his skull, the way his hands begin to tremble, and he-

(He would know if he had hurt Arum, wouldn't he? He would know. Wouldn't he? Why would Arum not tell him, if he had managed to fumble so viciously as to harm the monster? Why wouldn't he say something? How could Damien not know?)

He won't be able to breathe at all, in a few moments. He knows this feeling.

He should leave, he thinks, with a manic sort of terror. He should not burden Rilla with this- this- whatever is broken within him that makes him fall into these spirals, he should turn on his heel and march towards the Citadel instead, should find a spot by the road to crumple and choke until he can breathe again, he shouldn't-

But-

Rilla is a doctor. She- she would want to take care of him, wouldn't she? Even in this. And Damien- Damien wants to see her, so terribly, if she would just hold him then perhaps the swimming of his head might stop.

He realizes, again, that his legs have taken leave of his instructions, stumbling out from the trees into Rilla's garden, aiming him towards her door, and he screws his face up with misery and uncertainty and desperation when he lifts his shaking, weak fist to rap at her door.

"Rilla," he manages when the door cracks open, his throat already strange and his breaths already strangled and edging towards impossible. "Rilla I- I'm sorry, I can't- I need-"

It isn't Rilla, standing in the doorway, though. It's a stranger, tall and plump and wide-eyed with surprise.

"Ah- oh? Uh- Rilla?" he calls over his shoulder, and at least she's still- oh he cannot think, like this, all his focus drained into the simple act of staying upright, of continuing to breathe, of not biting his tongue too hard or screaming or-

Rilla nudges past the stranger, locks eyes with Damien, and her expression goes serious and professional so quickly that Damien could sob. He knew- oh he knew, he knew she would know what to do, oh-

She lifts her hands, slow and nonthreatening, leaving her palms just a breath away from his shoulders, and says, "Damien. Are you hurt? Can I-"

He shakes his head, then immediately nods frantically, leaning forward enough for her palms to press to his collarbones, and she takes the cue to squeeze gently. Damien very nearly sobs a second time.

"Can't-" he gasps, and then, "help-"

"Okay, okay, it's okay," she says, and she moves him into the hut with her hands still a gentle anchor on him. "I've got you, you're okay. What's wrong? Can you tell me-"

Damien's vision has gone strange and tunneled enough that he wouldn't have noticed the second stranger still sitting by Rilla's table if he didn't make a confused, questioning noise. He doesn't exactly have the presence of mind to worry about that, at the moment, however, and he tries to wind himself back together enough to answer.

"Can't- breathe," he manages, relieved that he managed the most important part of the explanation first. "Happens," he tries with a smile that feels staggeringly weak, "when- when- overwhelmed, and- and-"

The first stranger, the one at the door, tenses, and Damien glances towards him in time to see a look of odd recognition on his face, and a twinge of sympathy.

"I'll get water," he blurts, wincing and turning away, and Damien can't focus on that either because Rilla squeezes his shoulders again, and the pressure is reassuring enough that he manages another breath as he turns his attention back towards her.

"This has happened to you before, then?" she asks brusquely. "Just nod yes or no." He nods. "Touching you is okay?" Another nod. "Do you want to go in the exam room where it's darker and quieter?" Nod, quick and jerky and oh please, and Rilla's hands shift as she moves to his side instead of in front of him, guiding him through as he struggles to gulp down air, as he struggles not to feel the pounding of his heart as something that might kill him.

She moves him to the cot, sitting him there, reaching a hand to drop the curtains and lower the light, and then she puts her hands back on his shoulders, squeezing and rubbing her thumbs gently across his collarbones.

"Okay," she says, "it'll be okay. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. If you can tell me how I can help you better, go right ahead, but if you can't talk, that's totally fine too. I'm not going anywhere."

Damien's throat tightens again, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, and he tries to swallow against the reassurance, against the unworthiness in his breast because- how to help him, how can she help him, how to explain-

"Arum, A-Arum would hold me and- and breathe- breathe with me, let me feel- feel him breathing and- I'm sorry, I'm-"

Rilla tsks, a casual, unworried sound, and Damien chokes on another breath as she steps a little closer to the cot. She doesn't lean down into his space, instead nudging his legs a little more sideways and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, cupping the back of his head in a hand and pressing his cheek, his ear against her chest.

"It's okay," she says again. "Nothing to apologize for. Just listen to my heart, listen to me breathe, and let me hold you. I want to do this for you. You have nothing to be sorry about. Here, just listen. Just breathe. I've got you."

Damien makes a noise something like a moan, and then he closes his eyes, trying to ignore the shame of the tears on his cheeks, the pathetic noises in his throat, and he- he wraps his own arms around her lower back with a strange combination of care and desperation, and he tries to do as Rilla said, tries to listen, tries to breathe.

She strokes her hand through his hair, and then again, and then again, in time with her own breaths, and Saint Damien above she's so clever, he did not even mention- Arum doing the same, Arum's hand on his chest in soothing rhythm, oh he doesn't deserve such-

"Shh," she says, the reverberations of her voice humming warmly with his ear pressed against her chest, and he doesn't know at all if he somehow spoke his panicked thoughts or if she can simply feel him going more tense instead of less. "Shhh, sweetheart. I've got you. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you'll be through it soon, it'll pass. Do you want me to keep talking? Is this helping?"

Damien nods almost before her words are out, a sharp noise of distress in his throat, and she breathes a relieved sort of sigh above him, her hand still careful in his curls.

Don't stop, he thinks, pleading and weak, please don't ever stop.

(please, another part of him whispers, Arum, please- where are you? Please-)

"Okay, good. I'm glad. I want to help you however I can." She pauses, just for a moment, and he hears her hum a breath of consideration before, "Would it help if I... do you want me to sing for you? I could..."

The idea- like a bubble of surprised delight in the center of the grim dark panic, so sweet and earnest an offer- he nods again, squeezing his own arms around her. She breathes something close to a laugh, not mocking him, just a noise of her own relief, he's certain, and then she cards her hand through his hair again.

And then she begins to sing.

"Meet me by the river where the elderberries grow when stars are silver no one needs to know..."

Damien's breath hitches, catches, goes hushed and surprised. He thinks- he's never head this song before, but- has he? What-

She caresses him again, feeling the change, but she does not hesitate in her song.

"Meet me by the river by driftwood and stone I’ll float down with her no one has to know."

It's the melody, Damien realizes, not the words. He knows this melody, he is certain-

Arum.

Arum hums this song, on occasion. In the dark, tangled together, breathing slow, the monster will hum this song close by Damien's ear. A lullaby, he deflected once, when Damien felt curious enough to ask, and then he changed the subject before Damien could inquire further. A lullaby, and apparently one that Rilla knows as well.

His heart, his heart-

It feels so full. Arum's echo even here where his presence is not possible in truth, his song on Rilla's lips, her voice so sweet and soothing, his heartbeat slowing in response to her own beating steady-sweet against his ear, her body so warm and casual and easy, their arms wrapped around each other.

"Better?" she says, eventually, quiet and calm.

Damien takes a slow, deep breath to test his steadiness, and then he releases it in a sigh, nodding against her.

"I'm sorry," he says, but Rilla huffs and taps him twice on the spine with the hand around his back, an extremely gentle admonishment.

"I already told you. No sorries. You're fine." He feels her shrug, and he feels just brave enough to lean back, warily catching her eye. "It's not the first time I've dealt with a panic attack. It happens, it's not your fault, and it's not something you need to apologize for."

Damien blinks, leaning further back. "P-panic attack?"

Rilla opens her mouth, closes it, then opens it again. "Oh. You didn't-?"

"Is that- there's a- a name? This isn't just- just- me?"

Rilla's brows lower, her lip twitching in obvious sympathy. "No. It isn't just you."

Damien-

Revels in that revelation for a long moment, staring blankly as Rilla goes to answer a gentle knock at the door, her other guest passing a glass of water and a nervous little smile into the room before he retreats and Rilla comes back to his side, encouraging him to rehydrate with stubborn insistence.

She nudges him back with a hand, after he drains the glass, and he-

"But- but-"

"Lay down, take a nap."

"The sun only just rose," he protests, "I couldn't have woke much more than an hour ago, Rilla, I-"

"Panic attacks are draining," she says insistently, scowling and pushing him back by the shoulders until he's horizontal on the cot. "You are supposed to be recovering. No chances with Scorpion Queen venom, Sir Poet! Lay down."

He could resist, could push back, but- her sturdy hands always feel so good on him, and he cannot deny that he loves the feeling of her pushing him down.

(He won't think about the implications of that, just at the moment.)

"Rest for an hour," she says, her tone shifting towards gentle and placating, and then she- she lifts her hand, her lip curling into a very soft sort of smile, and she brushes the curls from his forehead before she leans down to place a kiss there.

His heart pulses again, almost painfully, and he makes a soft noise as she straightens back to stand. He reaches and takes her hand in his own, kissing her knuckles and trying to convey- trying to pour out the gratefulness he feels into the small, innocent point of contact.

She smiles, squeezes his hand in turn, and then she steps back towards the door.

"Rest up, Sir Poet. Doctor's orders."

Damien laughs, helpless against it, and Rilla seems satisfied enough with that as an answer. She smiles, and closes the door behind her.

And Damien-

He does feel rather drained, despite himself. And... she insisted. She wants to take care of him, he reminds himself, and that idea makes his smile twist a little awestruck, a little sheepish. He sighs, and tilts his head against the pillow as if to bury his blushing cheek in the fabric.

Well, he thinks, closing his eyes. No arguing with doctor's orders.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Damaged Souls

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: dark humor, cussing, loss of parent. 

A/N: A comfort fic for myself/ me dealing with my dad’s passing. NOT EDITED, sorry for mistakes. 

Summary: While waiting to meet with Steve, Bucky meets a woman trying to skateboard. 

The park was twelve steps away from where Bucky parked, waiting patiently for his usually on time friend. He leaned against his hood, a cup of stale gas station coffee in hand. The plan was to meet Steve for some down time - he hadn’t gotten much time off from work lately. Sam and he were doing some intense intel ventures that brought him away from home in weekly intervals. Now that his oldest friend was, well, his oldest friend - he tried to see the aging gentleman as often as possible. 

His cell phone rang and he picked it up to Steve apologizing for running late. “I guess old age has its disadvantages.”

“Come, on, punk,” Bucky teased, eyes following a woman who was walking passed him. She held a skateboard in hand, a duffle bag thrown over her shoulders. “By the time you get down here, I’ll have gray hair too.”

Steve laughed and promised to be there as soon as he could. “Go grab us a bench, before they’re all taken.”

“Jesus, you really are old.”

“Respect your elders,” Steve coaxed, laughing as his dog barked for his attention. “Be there soon, Buck.”

The friends hung up and Bucky sighed, pushing himself off the car hood. He walked further into the park, sipping on his coffee and enjoying the fresh air. Admittedly, he was tired and a little run down. He was truly looking forward to meeting up with Steve, so he wasn’t upset that he had to wait a little longer. It was nice being out, so he took his time looking for a bench and ended up finding one near a basketball court. No one was playing, so he sat down and relaxed. 

That’s when he noticed you walking up to the court; he wondered if you were going to play alone but saw the skateboard in your hand. You were the woman who had passed him in the parking lot - he watched as you threw the duffel bag down at the edge of the court. Drinking his coffee, he focused on you - observing as you put on knee and elbow pads on. That was more protection than Sam wore on missions, the thought made him laugh a little too loud because you turned his way. Bucky quickly took a sip of his coffee, pretending to not notice you.

You looked away and continued to secure yourself before moving to the middle of the court. Embarrassed, Bucky tried to not stare, cursing his friend to hurry up so he wouldn’t look like such a creeper. He attempted to think of the things he wanted to tell Steve, mainly asking him for advice on how to rein Sam in but those thoughts were momentary. His eyes quickly went back to watching you attempt to skateboard. 

He noticed how unsure you were at first, getting on the board and kicking off but stopping yourself right after. Personally, he never rode a skateboard in his life - he already spent too much time off the ground and he could only imagine how silly he would look. So, it was interesting to watch someone attempting to learn - he was living vicariously through you, whoever you were. Feeling a bit more relaxed as you noticed him less and less as the time went by, Bucky watched freely and even felt excited for you when things started to go smoothly. You were balancing yourself perfectly and even picking up speed, and as if his promising thoughts were jinx - he watched as the skateboard halted and you flew backwards. 

Bucky couldn’t stop himself, leaving his coffee on the bench as he raced forward. You had fallen on your back and when he got to you, he was shocked to see you were laughing on the ground.

“Miss, are you okay?”

You blinked a few times before waving a hand in the air. “I’m fine, just...my ass hurts.”

Bucky laughed and offered up a hand. “Let me help you up, it looked like…”

“I ate shit,” you murmured, letting him pull you off the ground. Rubbing the back of your head, he asked if you hit it. “Not hard at all, I guess that’s what I get for being 30 and thinking I was Tony freaking Hawk.”

Bucky had no clue who you were talking about, but he just smiled. “I’m glad you’re okay, if it helps, before the fall it looked like you were doing great.”

Reaching down for the skateboard, you shrugged. “I guess, it’s really not that hard but my body felt that fall.”

“It looked brutal,” he admitted, pointing to the bench he was occupying. “Maybe you should sit down for a bit?”

You looked to the bench then back to the man in front of you - he was attractive, that much was obvious but his smile was kind and that’s what reeled you in. You wondered if he did this often - lingered around the park for silly women who did silly things to occupy their depression. 

“I probably should, let me go get my bag.” 

Bucky watched as you started to walk away but stopped, turning to tell him your name. He took the hand you held out and shook it lightly. “I’m Bucky.”

“Thanks for watching me fall on my ass, Bucky,” you amused, nodding to where your bag sat. “I’ll meet you at the bench.”

He watched as you left to retrieve your bag, scratching his head and praying that in his old age, Steve would take even longer to get to the park. Jogging back to the bench, Bucky sat down and picked up his coffee just as you approached. You were limping a little and he had to hide his smile as you sat down, tossing the bag down to the ground along with the skateboard.

“I have to ask,” he said, trying to get the conversation going. “Why skateboarding?” 

You let out a low laugh but your smile faded quickly; he recognized the pain in your eyes and he felt guilty for asking such an innocent question. 

“Well, my dad passed a few months ago,” you explained, feeling the constant lump in your throat forming. “And...it was one of those things, where life just feels empty. So, here I am, trying to cure my depression one new hobby at a time.”

Bucky felt a sting in his throat as you shrugged and laughed - god, he knew that feeling all too well. He lost all his family and the hell he had been put through since then, had crushed his soul. “Sorry about your father.”

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t kill him.”

It was apparently raw, the false sense of humor in your voice - trying to deal with your pain with dark jokes. He could tell you used it often by the shrug you gave, paired with a nervous laugh. Bucky just grinned back and asked what number hobby was skateboarding.

“Shit, number six. I’ve done knitting, rug making, yoga, day drinking, throwing myself off buildings,” you laughed as you rattled off random things. Bucky grinned and shook his head, asking if you had found something worth sticking to. 

“I kinda like skateboarding, just gliding around feels free. At least...I don’t know,” you said, embarrassment written on your face. Here you were, showcasing your dead dad personality to a complete stranger….again. The difference was that this time, the person wasn’t walking away confused and unsettled by you - a person so terribly broken all she could do was just laugh at her life. Laugh loud and abruptly because it was either laughing or crying, and fuck, were you sick of crying. 

“I understand,” Bucky said quietly, half smiling as he stared down at the to go cup in his hands. “It feels like you’re just standing still while everything around you keeps on living, like you’re frozen in time…”

“Exactly,” you practically yelled, holding back as you laughed a little. “I mean, shit, can I bitch get a break?”

Bucky’s eyes widened at your vulgar humor and you apologized. “Sorry, I just - I blurt things out without thinking, more than ever now. “

He held up a hand and grinned. “No need to apologize, it’s actually refreshing.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, glancing down at your cell. “I have to go, I just decided to randomly come to practice but I need to go meet my sister. We have our weekly crying sessions over ramen and slushies.”

You reached down for the duffel bag and skateboard, and he watched as you took off the knee and elbow pads, stuffing them in the bag. Zipping the bag, you stood up and groaned. “Yeah, my ass is going to be sore tomorrow.”

“Ice it,” Bucky teased, standing up with you. “I’m glad you’re okay...it was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, again, thanks for witnessing my downfall,” you remarked, unable to move. This was different, it felt strange and a part of you didn’t want to leave the bench or this stranger. Not wanting to miss your chance and this possible attractive sign from the universe, you decided to make a move. “So, I’m going to be coming back here tomorrow around noon to practice some more…”

Bucky felt relief in his chest as he smiled over at you. “I’ll bring a bucket of ice.”

Laughing, you pointed a finger at him. “That was a good one, I better go - my sister might commit suicide if I’m not there on time and I can’t let her go see our dad first. I’m very competitive like that.”

Your eyes watched for Bucky’s reaction and when he shook his head with a chuckle, you just knew he understood. Whatever he had gone through, although not the same as yours or maybe it was, it definitely was a pain the two of you could connect with and that was enough reason to show up the next day. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he nodded, his smile small and kind. 

Holding back a smile, you started to walk away but turned to wave at him. He waved back, although you had to admit, he looked pretty dorky. Laughing, you turned around and nearly bumped into an elderly gentleman with his dog.

“Oh, sorry!”

He smiled and shook his head. “No problem, sweetheart, have a nice day.”

Usually a sweetheart from anyone irritated you but his sweetheart was kind and surprisingly genuine. Smiling at him, you left the park somewhat happy for the first time in a long time.

…

Bucky watched as Steve made his way to the bench, patting the seat next to him. “About time, old man.”

Ignoring the comment, Steve sat down, whistled for his dog to sit, and nudged Bucky in the ribs - he was still pretty strong for a man of his age. “She seems nice.”

Not surprised at all, he laughed. “So you saw that whole thing?”

Steve shrugged. “I saw enough, are you going to see her again.”

Thinking of the sadness in your eyes and the familiar reflection he saw in the mirror every morning, he glanced over to the basketball court. He had felt lonely for so long and while he wasn’t going to depend on anyone else or put his own baggage on others, but something about you felt interconnected. 

Two damaged souls, it sounded very dramatic but hell, his whole life had been dramatic. 

“Yeah,” Bucky said through a smile. “I’m definitely going to see her again.”

[eternalstann]

Quarantine

You and your best friend Tom spend some quarantine time together, and it isn’t exactly what you expected...

Warnings: fluff, angst??, smut ;)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Normally you missed Tom, since he was always on the go. But since this ‘quarantine’ began, the two of you had been in the house together for 6 days straight. Tuwaine, Harrison and Harry had come over for a bit, but decided to be with their families instead. Harry claiming Sam missed him. You had almost begged him to stay, but he assured you you’d be fine with Tom. And you were, at first. Slowly you began to notice all his annoying habits.

Like leaving the toilet seat up, or his dishes all over the house. Albeit it was his house, but still.

You’d woken up on day 7 feeling sluggish even though you’d done absolutely nothing but sleep and lie around for the last week. You leave the guest room you’d been staying in and make your way to kitchen. Tom must’ve been still asleep. You pull out a bowl to make yourself some cereal and tea, deciding to make a cup for Tom too when he wakes up. You scroll through your phone while you eat, pausing when a FaceTime comes in from Harry.

“Y/N!” He called cheerily through the phone. And you smile, “Hey, what’s up!” You respond. “Nothing just seeing how things were over there, miss you already” he spoke and you grin. “It’s fine, I miss you too” you listen to the chaos in the background, so different to the near silence where you were. Tom was one of your closest friends, and you loved him dearly but things were off. You just summed it up to all the craziness going on in the world. It was more than enough to put anyone in a mood.

You and Harry chat for a while longer until you hear a door slam. “He’s risen” you laugh, you hear his footsteps getting closer. “I’ll talk to you later Harry” you smile but Tom walks in with a frown. “No, no - don’t let me interrupt your love connection” he grumbles and your eyebrows go up to your hairline. “What?” You and Harry both exclaim at the same time, “Jinx!” You do it again before bursting out with laughter. Tom rolls his eyes about to walk out, “Wait, I made you some tea!” You offer and he takes it without so much as a thank you and goes to sit on the couch.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed” Harry jokes and you shake your head before hanging up. You take a deep breath before approaching your solemn friend. “Goodmorning!” You chirp, plopping down on the couch next to him. He glances at you, then turns back to the T.V. “You know, if you’d rather be with Harry you’re more then welcome to go” he tells you and you feel a pang in your chest at his sharp words. Was he serious? You do your best to brush it off, “Tom what’s the matter? You’re not acting like yourself.” You sigh inching closer to him.

“I’m not acting like myself? You’re the one fawning over Harry like he’s gods gift to this earth. And he’s eating that shit right up. When this all went down, I was looking forward to spending time with you...I missed you. But I see now you were - are, fine without me” his voice is low and you’re in shock. You can’t believe he thinks you like Harry. You almost want to laugh. Harry was your friend...but he was the one you were crushing on. “Tom, I promise you there is nothing between me and Harry. We’re just friends, and we wouldn’t even be friends if it weren’t for you!” You explain.

“Better friends than you and I?” He asks, eyes looking at yours now. You and Harry had shared laughs; but Tom? Tom has been there for you through everything. And you for him. “Nobody’s better friends then you and I” you assure him. You watch the way his face relaxes. “I don’t know..it’s just when I’m away I feel like I’m missing so much. I came home, so excited to see you but then I saw all your inside jokes with Harry and your handshake with Tuwaine. I felt like I was losing you. I’m not gonna lie...I miss when you were just my best friend.” He laughs a little at the end, and now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah well I’ve always had to share you!” You remind him and he nods. “I know. I guess I was just..jealous?” He squints and you bite your lip.

He was jealous? Do people get jealous of ‘friends’? Does this mean he feels for you as more than a friend?! Your mind is racing now and your heart feels like it might jump out your chest. “Well you could never lose me Tom, you’re my best friend. And I love you” you hug him. “I love you too Y/N”

You pull away, tired of all the moody somberness and glance towards the fridge. “Fuck this tea, lets get drunk” you smirk and Tom laughs. “This is why you’re my best friend”

—

You’re on your fourth...you think?? Cup of wine. Tom’s standing across from you, face red from the alcohol. He’s still holding his beer in his hand as he explains the stunt to you. “Just run at me, I’m gonna grab your hips and flip you over and onto the couch” he explains.

“Tom I swear if you drop me!” You giggle before running towards him at full speed. He lunges towards you and when you’re close enough his fingers wrap around your waist and hoist you up. You squeal as he tosses you on the couch, and Tom cheers before jumping over so he’s on top of you.

You’re breathing heavily, a giant smile on your face as you stare up at the brown haired boy. His eyes sparkle with something you’ve never seen before. A happy, goofy look on his face. “I love you Y/N” he says in between pants. His gaze makes your face hot and you blink; “I love you too Tom” you tell him again. “No- Y/N I’m in love with you” You’re eyes go wide at his confession. “Shit, I’m sorry. God, I shouldn’t have-“ you cut off your stuttering best friend with a kiss. But the word kiss didn’t do it justice.

Your eyes close the moment your lips meet. You feel him relax, body sinking into yours; his weight on top of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. “Tom..” you murmur and he hums, lips traveling from you jaw to your neck. You feel like you’re in a dream. Toms hand creeps up your chest and shoves down your tank top to expose your breasts and you gasp when his tongue licks your nipple. He circles the hard bud, his fingers tweaking the other one. You arch into his touch, hips subconsciously grinding against him. “Tom; please..” you wine. You don’t even know what you were asking him for but you’d take whatever he’d give you.

“I got you” his voice rumbles from his chest, hand leaving your nipple to toy with the waistband of your shorts. “Can I?” He asks, eyes searching yours. You nod, craning your neck to kiss him again. “You smell good” you compliment and he just smiles.

“Thank you” and then his hand is beneath the fabric that had separated you. His finger trailing between your lips before finding the sensitive bud that has you moaning his name. “That’s it baby..” he encourages you. Your nails dig into his back while he works on you. “Fuck..I’m gonna cum Tom” you call out. His hand slides down so his fingers can pump into you, his palm pressed to your clit with every movement. You shake as you reach your peak, cumming on Toms strong hand. He keeps going while you ride out your high, watching you writhe beneath him. You sit up to look at the man in front of you and he smirks while he licks his fingers. You always knew Tom was a freak.

“Lay back” you instruct, pushing your shorts off and Tom does as you say, kicking off his sweats. “You can get rid of those too” you tell him, pointing to his boxers. “Straight shooter, I like that” and you roll your eyes. “You’re so funny Tom, anyone ever tell you that you should be a comedian” you whisper in a sultry voice, straddling him. “Yeah all the ti-oh fuck!” His voice cracks when you sink onto him.

“Oh shit, Tom!” You moan, feeling all of him when you’re fully seated. Tom can’t help but stare at you, tits out and head thrown back. And you were like that because of the pleasure he was giving you..he could’ve cum right then. You plant your legs and bounce on the brunette, watching his jaw go slack. You lean forwards, hands resting in the middle of his chest to balance yourself so you can go even faster. You want to watch Tom but your eyes fall shut from the way his thick cock felt inside of you. “Fuck; Tom..cum for me baby” you groan feeling yourself getting close again.

“Y/N...” he calls your name, hand reaching up behind you to tug on your hair. Your walls clench around him when he pulls and that’s it for Tom. His groans are like music to your ears when he orgasms. You grind against him a few more times before reaching your own peak and falling against him.

Tom tilts his head to look down at you, a lazy smile on his face; “I just got some quarantitties”

——————

I was really tempted to name this quarantitties 😂, I hope you enjoyed! I hope you all are well and pleaseeeeee send me some prompts I’m bored out of my mind!!

[a-monsters-love]

Distance - Soulmate AU

Gif found [here]

[Master List]

Aizawa Shouta x Reader

Summary: When we turn 8 our dreams don’t just become our own. We don’t know when it started but we start to share our dream scape with our soulmates. The closer we are to them the better we can hear them in our dreams, the farther we are the less we can hear them. When the other wakes you get a small, very brief, glimpse of the world around them. If soulmates have different sleeping schedules then the dreams you have without them you typically won’t remember.

Genre: oh it’s fluffy y’all

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: mild swearing, implied abuse, quotes from the MHA Vigilantes series, native language I’m using for y/n is English

A/N: I’ve always wanted to write a Soulmate AU ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡. And y/n’s quirk is based off of Jinx from the Teen Titans lmao

With love to my favorite bby who helped me form the ideas for this @eraser-baby​

(Y/N) = Your Name (H/C) = Hair Color (E/C) = Eye Color (H/L) = Home Land i.e country of origin (N/L) = Native Language

————————————

If you’ve learned anything in your life it’s that girls love talking about soulmates. Sure, it’s romantic and very fairytale-esk but isn’t there anything better to talk about? You sighed as your classmate gawks about her soulmate and what they did together in her dreams. “Come on (Y/N)! Tell us about your soulmate! You never participate in these conversations!” Your friend says. The other girls in the locker room agree and you let you head drop back dramatically.

You roll you neck and look at each of them, “I don’t have one.” You shrugged, “I don’t have anything to offer.” Their faces grow visibly shocked at your statement but you weren’t one to lie, “Don’t look at me like that. Come on, we have to get to training.” The last thing you want is for them to pity you. Pity for not having a soulmate was the last thing you should ever receive pity for, not with how your life was. You couldn’t help but huff at the idea as you pulled your gym shirt over the scars that were riddled all over your skin.

——

“You’re lying!” Oboro accused his friend, “No one just doesn’t have a soulmate!” His nagging on the topic has only gotten worse as his friendship with Aizawa Shouta went on.

Hizashi chuckled, “He’s telling the truth, I don’t believe he doesn’t have one either though. They’ve just never met.”

Shouta groaned at the conversation, “If I have one I’ve never met them, not having one makes more sense.” He shrugged, “I mean, it’s been 7 years and I’ve had zero contact.” Oboro groaned into the pillows on Shouta’s bed in frustration. “We have like 30 more minutes to study before we should get to sleep.” He tapped the textbook in his hand.

Not having a soulmate was unheard of, both of you knew this. Both of you were certain that the other died or you were an anomaly in the universe. Of course you both would enjoy it but neither of you cared enough to worry about something you didn’t have.

———

“Come on, (Y/N)! You can do better than that!” Your gym instructor yelled, you hissed at how sore you were but knew it would be worth it. You weren’t in the heroics course for nothing, you were here to prove your quirk wasn’t villainous.

“Fuck.” You huffed to yourself, you propelled yourself up and bent low towards you opponent. You pressed your hands to the ground letting magenta hues blast from your hands to destroy the field directly in front of you. Having the quirk ‘Jinx’ also referred to as ‘Probability Manipulation’ will make you malleable for hero work but took twice as much training.

The earth cracked towards your opponent causing them to fall, only to kick a decent sized chunk of stone towards you. The impact knocked you unconscious.

You hit the ground hard, “FUCK.” You yelled, “Why didn’t I go for the knee caps? Should I just strike them with Bad Luck?” You start rambling before realizing you don’t recognize where you were. You look around and see blue skies and tall grass surrounding you, you see a boy with messy ebony and dark eyes staring at you in surprise. You look at yourself, still in your gym uniform, and then back at him. “What?” You hiss at him.

Shouta looks over you, the way your (H/C) hair framed your face. He visibly gulps at the way your (E/C) eyes bore into him, he knew who you were immediately. He opens his mouth to speak but you started to fade.

When he doesn’t respond you squint at him before waking up. Shouta catches a brief glimpse of your fight, it’s day light where you’re at. You’re face was stoic as blood ran down it when you shove yourself off the ground and sling two magenta crescents at your attacker from your hands before the vision stops.

Shouta jumps out of his bed in a panic, he looks around and see’s Oboro and Hizashi asleep on his bedroom floor. Hizashi stirs and rubs his eyes, “What’s wrong listener?” He mutters, still half asleep.

“I think I just found out why I hadn’t met my soulmate before.” He huffs out, catching his breath. Hizashi’s eyes widen in surprise and elbows Oboro awake to listen to him explain his dream.

“I fucking knew it.” Oboro whisper yells as he sits up from under his blanket.

“It was so weird though, I could see them talking but I couldn’t hear them.” Shouta pushes his hair back with one hand.

“Well you said it was day time for them so they must not live in Japan.” Hizashi suggests, the three agree and drop the subject to go back to sleep. Shouta wouldn’t admit it but he was excited, and relieved. He’s glad you’re alive.

You’re sent to nurses office after you finish your match to bandage up your wound. You can’t get the image of the strange dark haired boy from your mind but decide not to worry about it. “Weird dream.” You mumble to yourself, rationalizing it as dreaming of someone you’ve met before or some nonsense dream. The fact of meeting your soulmate was the farthest thing from your mind.

———

Shouta tries his best to catch you at random hours in the day for him, he justifies it as looking for confirmation but isn’t able to catch you. “When does she sleep?” He groans to his friend, he’s tried his best but there’s only so much sleeping he can squeeze into his school schedule before getting into trouble.

“I’ve never seen you so devoted to something.” Oboro teases giving him a wide toothy smile.

Shouta rolls his eyes, “I’m getting the feeling I just hallucinated the whole thing.” He presses his face into his hands with a groan. “I just want to know if it was real..”

His two friends chuckle and pat his back, “Give it time man.” They reassured him.

———

You on the other hand hadn’t thought much of the incident again for months, you didn’t have time to. You went to school, did homework in the library, trained and only went home to sleep. You tried to avoid your foster parents as best as you could, knowing the consequences of disturbing them. Your focus was on your heroics work and aging out of the system.

Over a year had passed and you had completely forgotten about the incident. Shouta had given up trying to track you down, your soulmates, you’re meant to run into each other at some point, right?

“The three of us should open up our own agency!” Oboro said over lunch one day. Shouta hummed in curiosity, “I think we work well together.” He took another bite of his lunch, “Take you for example, Shouta. You’re not the type to get action started on your own, but you’re always sweating the small stuff. You’ll add a layer of polish to everything!” Oboro smiles wide and slings his arm around Hizashi’s neck and pulling him closer. “Cause we suck at it!” The two laughed loudly.

“Yeah… I guess so.” Shouta frowned at the idea. “You two share the same two brains cells.” His friends laughed harder and the conversation continued.

“We could recruit your soulmate!” Oboro adds.

“You said they looked like they were in hero training.” Hizashi adds.

A light blush heats Shouta’s cheeks and his brows knit. “That feels like a cop out.” Shouta mumbles, “I should be able to stand on my own before asking for someone else’s help.” He scowled at his bento.

———

You were taking a break from your morning jog by laying in the grass on your schools campus. “(Y/N)?” You hear, you stretch your neck and look in the direction of the voice. “You’re here early.” Your teacher says, look at their watch. “Very early.” They hum the last part and sit next to you.

“Yeah, I just prefer jogging on a track.” You make an excuse, you didn’t want to talk about your home life with a teacher. Knowing it would make things messy, you continued. “I’m just an early bird, I like to stay busy, ya’ know?” You smiled at them and chuckled a bit.

They hummed in understanding, “Your performance has gone up a lot. Are you still planning on being - as you say - a freelance hero?” They question, nudging you with their knee.

You smile wide and look at the clouds above you. “Yeah, I’ve always wanted to travel.” You hum and talk about all the places you’ve read about, not sure where you’ll end up.

Your teacher hums at the idea, they’re a retired hero. “I wish I had that mindset when I was your age.” You both chuckle and you hop upright, offering a hand for them to get up. “Is your soulmate a hero or a hero in training?”

You freeze at the question, dusting yourself off as an excuse for your silence. “I dunno, I’ve never met them.” You shrug at their confused look. “I’m gonna run a few more laps and I’ll be out of your hair.” You smile politely and run off.

“Don’t over do it, (Y/N)!” They yell out to you. “You’ll get sick!”

You wave at them in acknowledgement, you think about their words for the rest of the morning. You remember one of your friends mentioning how most soulmates quirks are typically balanced matches for each other. You have a mutation quirk so you doubted the validity. “What could balance with Bad Luck?” You question aloud.

“Something to get rid of the bad luck I imagine.” One of your classmates chirped, you jumped at the sudden appearance. “I wonder if your Jinx quirk is the reason you haven’t met yet.” They further suggest.

You hum at the idea, that would make sense. Not that you had any clue as to what would but you didn’t let it bother you too much, having an answer satiated your curiosity.

It wasn’t until you got knocked out again that your curiosity was piqued again. You sat in a field of tall grass and flowers, you looked over yourself and realized your in your gym uniform. You snap your fingers and imagined your favorite outfit. When it appeared on your body you figured it was a dream.

You stood and looked around and saw the same ebony haired boy staring at you. He sat against a tree in the shade, a breeze blew in and brushed the hair out of his face. You gave him a once over, noting it’s the same boy from a year prior and waved at him. A blush dusted his cheeks and he shyly waved back. You walked towards him, squatting in front of his figure and tilted your head. “You stare too much.” You said, his brows knitted. “What?” You questioned, he was quite cute now that you had a better look at him. He looked at you the way a wet kitten looked at a passerby in the rain, confused and nervous but full of hope.

Shouta watched you appear in his dream, you appeared out of nowhere. You faced away from him, he couldn’t see anything but your (H/C) hair at first. When you stood he was able to take in your figure, you were beautiful. He could see the confidence radiating off of you in the way you carried yourself. When you squatted in front of him he felt like the dream was almost real. When he watched you speak he noted that he couldn’t hear anything again. “I can’t hear you.” He pointed from his mouth to his ear and shook his head. He watched you make a small frown and plop down to sit. You stared at each other for a moment, taking in each others existences. His eyes scanned the visible scars littering your skin, you watched the way his cheeks heated as he shamelessly checked you out. It wasn’t until you visibly looked like a lightbulb popped with an idea that his attention was pulled back to reality. You smirked and closed your eyes, two whiteboards appeared in front of you with markers.

You handed him one and started to write, ‘Hello, where are you?’ You wrote, flipping the board around and waved at him. He squinted at the letters on the board, understanding what you wrote by your body language. English is a required language to learn in Japan but he wasn’t the greatest at it. When he wrote a greeting on the board you frowned again, not recognizing the language, this time you imagined a globe and two pins, a purple one for him and a yellow one for you. You scanned the globe and put a pin in your general location and pointed from the pin to yourself with a soft smile, he felt his heart flutter at your smile. You handed him the globe and the black pin, he looked at where you were and frowned himself as he put his own in. Shouta handed you the globe and you frowned again as you looked at the two locations, he was in Japan. It makes sense that you’ve never met, the difference in your time zones was vastly different.

You grabbed the whiteboard again, ‘Well Fuck.’ You wrote down your name and pointed at yourself. Shouta did the same and you two briefly practiced writing each other’s name before you disappeared. He watched the glimpse of you again, you were in a nurses office and he watched you shoot up and frown at your friend. Your (E/C) eyes light up and the machinery around you spark and popped. He watched your friends phone explode and you just shrugged when the vision stopped. He practiced writing all the things your wrote in his dream before he woke himself.

When he did wake up he wrote everything he practiced in his notebook and brought it to school. He showed Hizashi and Oboro what you said and told them what country you were in. The two laughed louder than necessary at your words “She wrote ‘Well fuck’ at the fact that you’re so far.” Oboro snorted, “I like her already.” Shouta rolled his eyes, but held a small smile as if to say ‘me too.’

Moving forward he works on his English better than he had before, and you made it your mission to learn Japanese. In the random and few dreams you shared you practiced each other’s language, using the near magic of the dreamscape to correct each other. Even though you couldn’t hear each other you each made the other practice writing short notes you could remember when waking up to make the process easier. Things to the degree of ‘work on pronouncing hard letters like L’s and R’s first’.

You hadn’t seen Shouta in your dreams again for sometime, the next time you saw him was at night your time when you went to bed. You were surprised when he appeared in your dream, however you were more worried about the way he seemed to be followed by a small storm cloud. Something must’ve happened, you thought. You sat beside him, wishing you could say something comforting but you knew he couldn’t hear you. You imagined an umbrella and held it over the two of you and rubbed his back. Shouta glanced over at you, you had a solemn expression on your face. Your mouth quirked in a half frown as if to ask if he was okay. He shook his head ‘no’ and you leaned your head on his shoulder.

He showed you a memory of the fight he had during his work study a few days prior. He watched you gape at the scene, at the loss of his friend. You cried and dropped the umbrella, you turned and pulled him into a tight hug causing tears he didn’t know he had left fall from his eyes as he returned the embrace. You pet his hair as the dream went dark in his anguish. When he sat back up he wiped his face and nodded at you in thanks.

You decided to share a few of your own memories with him, your hero training at school, a bit of your school life. He chuckled at how much you study, you flash him a memory of the past week of you learning Japanese and stick your tongue out at him. He blushes lightly and rolls his eyes, leaning into you lightly before he started to disappear.

You watch the scene unfold of him waking up from his nap in class, you chuckle as he crawls out of a bright yellow sleeping bag in his school uniform. His blonde friend says something that causes Shouta to cover his ears. The glimpse fades and you drift off to deeper sleep.

Over the next several years you only ever met him briefly, your exchanges were demure and always quiet due to the circumstances. You found out you both became underground hero’s after graduating, you exchanged emails after forgetting to for so long. You found typing in Japanese was harder than writing it and speaking it combined, he didn’t mind though. He wrote to you in English at times but your interactions were limited due to hero work.

Due to being underground hero’s both of you had sporadic sleeping schedules, you received an email from him at one point telling you to go to sleep. You chuckled and looked at your phone, I could go for a nap, you thought and emailed him in response. You returned to the place you were staying and laid on the couch, quickly drifting off to dreamland.

When you appeared in you shared dream Shouta pulled you into him, rolling you over so he could lay into your stomach with his arms wrapped around you. You giggled at the action but made no effort to rouse him, running your finger through his soft hair. He felt you giggled as you felt him talk, he wished for subtitles as he talked but it was too annoying to focus on them and talk at the same time. Shouta talked about some vigilante brats he’s started to run in to, about what he was dealing with. “(Y/N), I don’t know what to do.” His arms barely squeezed you but you felt it, you tightened your grip around him instinctively. He buried his face in your abdomen, you smiled sadly, you were barely sure but you knew you felt the same.

After a few years you had completely traveled around your entire country while working as a hero. You told him about your completed travels and how you became something of an urban legend, almost a boogie man for villains.

“Don’t you want to meet her?” Hizashi asked over the phone.

Shouta hummed at the question, thinking about an email you sent a few weeks ago. “I mean sure, but I don’t have anything to show for.” He sighed, “I can’t just ask her to move out here and expect her to be okay living the way I do.”

Hizashi went to argue but he understood the point, he had made a comment once about how private you were over email. Suggesting you might be more open in person like you are in your shared dreams, but your schedules were too different to have a proper conversation. With instant villains popping up all over the country the last thing he has time to think about is keeping up appearances.

“What about that gig at UA Kayama suggested? It’d be a stable gig.” He could hear his friend smile over the phone. The last thing Shouta thought was a good idea was him being a teacher.

“I don’t have time for this I’m on patrol, I’ll talk to you later.” He quickly hung up on Hizashi and stuffed his phone in his pocket, looking up at the moon that shown brightly even in the dark alley he stood in.

———

You stared at an email Midnight sent you, regretting the suggestion you made to Shouta to exchange emails of your most trusted associates/friends ‘in case of an emergency’. You sighed and leaned back into the sofa you sat on. “You know my office isn’t your office right?” Your friend said, you looked over at them and pouted. “Seriously, I have an agency to run.” They snorted.

You rolled your eyes and picked up your laptop, “Take a look at this for me.” You placed the device on the paperwork they were looking it, forcing them to read it over. “I don’t think it’s a good time but I’m not sure how to respond.” You scratched your head thinking about it.

They read through the job offer and hummed in cognizance. “I think it’s a good idea but you are right it might not be a good time, with-“ They waved their hand around. “Everything going on. Maybe just say that?” They advised.

You both tossed ideas back and forth, as much as traveling to Japan enticed you, you knew how long it would take to wrap up all your current cases. You sent Midnight a response, apologizing and declining the teaching position, informing her that you’d love to but you are currently in no position to just pack up and leave. You pulled out your Nokia Brick phone for the time and started packing your bag. “I have to go, thanks for letting me mooch your internet.” You winked at your friend who groaned.

“When are you going to get a smart phone?” They teased.

“When they make one I can’t break, this thing is a beast!” You pointed the device at them and were on your way. Upon entering a back alley past your friends hero agency you received a call. “Detective!” You answered, “Oh. You found the- uh huh.” Your eyes narrowed, “I’m on my way.” You ended the call and ran to their office, maybe it wouldn’t take as long to wrap up all your loose ends as your originally thought.

———

5 years have passed as you and Shouta have grown closer via dreams and emails. He shows you memories of things that happened with his class during the day, most of it you find hilarious and he scowls at you in response. You write an apology and provide suggestions, he finds that he quite likes laying his head in your lap or on your stomach as you comb your fingers through the messy mop of hair he has. You find it almost natural, both of you rant about your day. Fully aware that the other can’t hear you, you’ve found writing and showing memories became second nature. You nearly cried laughing when he showed you the memory of him expelling an entire class as an example to say ‘I wasn’t joking’.

You and Midnight chose not to tell Shouta about your potential teaching position at UA, you didn’t want to say anything because you didn’t want to get his hopes up. Midnight suggested keeping it quiet in case you decide to come, saying it would be a ‘pleasant surprise’ for him. You rolled you eyes reading that, knowing how she can be.

You received another email halfway through the school year from Principal Nezu, inviting you personally. You didn’t reply to the email for sometime while going over your case work, when you did respond you informed him that it would take you about a month to finish up the cases you’re involved in and that you would be late in regards to when summer break ends and the new semester begins. He tells you that’s fine, and you request that he doesn’t mention who the ‘new teacher’ would be.

That night you have a pleasant dream, when Shouta enters your dream he found you reminiscing. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pulling them tightly under your bust as he rests his chin on your shoulder. You lean your head against his and squeeze his arms, a smile crept up your face and you start speaking about you coming to surprise him at UA. He can’t hear you which makes you chuckle, you turn you head and kiss you cheek. It’s been years since you’ve met but you’ve never kissed before, part of you wanted to save it for when you met him in person but you were so excited.

Shouta watches you talk, wondering what you’re talking about that has you laughing. He’d give anything to hear you laugh in person, anything to be with you. He watches your memories, chuckling when you show him the fight that caused the two of you to meet. When he feels your lips press against his cheek he blushes deeply, almost jumping away with his hands still wrapped around you. He watches your fingers curl and hover in front of your mouth as you giggle. He pulls you into his chest and leans in to kiss you.

You reach up for him but give a sad smile as he starts to fade, indicating that he’s waking up. You cup his face in your hands and then he was gone, you can’t keep this up. You know you need to meet him, you know you will soon but it feels so far. You see a glimpse of him waking up, the scowl on his face and his students freezing made you chuckle. You were so excited.

If looks could kill, the classroom would have been massacred with the deep scowl on Aizawa’s face. The room felt like ice when he sat up from his in class nap to prepare the class for gym, the sensation of your hands on his cheeks is still present. He cups him own face in frustration, unable to think of something that could allow you two to meet.

After a few week Shouta meets up with you in your sleep again, your face held a deep blush and you sent him the goofiest smile he’s seen on you yet. You clap your hands together in front of your mouth as you tilt your head, he rolled his eyes and chuckled as he realizes you’re drunk. You show him memories of your going away party, you and a handful of hero’s all suited up in their uniforms were drinking at someone’s large house. Even in your drunken stupor you manage to keep anything that says ‘going away party’ out of the memory. You did accidentally slip a memory of you drinking 2 hero’s, that were 3 times your size, under the table. He sees you sitting behind the table with a mischievous grin on your face as the other two were either throwing up or passed out. When he glanced over at you there was an air of pride on you, he starts to play with your hair affectionately. He smiles when you lean into him, blushing slightly when you lay across his lap. Somehow you had snaked your arms around his waist, he chuckled in any attempt to admonish his growing feelings that made his stomach flip and his chest quake with desire.

———

You slept off your hangover on the flight to Japan, you saw Shouta a few times while you flew towards Japan. The closer you got the more nervous you became, you knew Midnight would be picking you up so you weren’t too worried. You wondered what he would sound like, what he’d smell like even.

When the plane entered Japanese waters you knew immediately, even in your sleep. You could hear him talking, you blushed as soon as the audio became clear. His voice was so smooth and deep you couldn’t help but blush. He looked at you questioningly and you moved your mouth like you were talking but didn’t let your voice escape. This was a lot more difficult to do that you imagined, you silently chuckled. He kissed your forehead, “God I wish I could see you in person, I can’t stand this.” Sadness and pain laced his voice like barbed wires, you cupped his face and gave him a sad smile. You gently pressed your lips to his, the action seemed to surprise him as he quickly poofed out of his nap. You catch a glimpse of him shooting up out of his chair and off his desk in the teachers lounge, a deep blush coating his pale skin. You woke up soon after and started getting your carry on bag together to get off.

You and Midnight had exchanged pictures via email before your flight so that the two of you would have an easy time finding each other. When you got off the plane you carried a small backpack and a briefcase with your hero uniform. “(Y/N)!” She yelled, waving her hand fast. “I’m so excited you’re here!” She hugged you tightly as soon as you were close enough.

“Midnight, I’m excited to be here.” You said, “I haven’t told Shouta yet so we need to make a plan to surprise him.” You wink at her, noticing the devilish grin growing on her lips.

“Call me Nemuri.” She says and loops her arm with yours, you nod as the two of you walk to baggage claim. She told you all about the dorm system and that there’s a room prepared for you, telling you that it’s pre-furnished and about all the finite details.

——

He took another nap, hoping to apologize for being surprised awake. When he did manage to sleep it was only for a short time and you weren’t there. Aizawa would admit he was confused, he looked at his phone to check the time when he woke. Knowing you should be asleep, he worried that something happened. Gym class had started and a few of the student looked at him in concern, noting his grumpier than usual attitude.

“What do you think happened?” Uraraka said, “Aizawa-Sensei isn’t usually this grumpy after his naps..”

Asui and Midoriya nodded in agreement, sneaking glances at their teacher. “Maybe he just didn’t sleep well?” Midoriya suggested with shrugged shoulders.

“He does keep looking at the time, kero.” Ausi notes.

Shouta glares at them and they separate for their training. When gym is over he takes another nap, hoping to see you again.

You and Midnight made quick work of getting your bags into your new room, you had swiftly changed into your Hero costume and headed towards the school. Nermuri used her quirk to help you calm down as you approached class 1-A, “Do you think he’ll be mad?” You whisper to her.

She chuckled softly, “I don’t think he could be mad at you.” She patted your shoulder as you slowly opened the door to the classroom. Class was almost over so you knew he’d be napping.

You saw him asleep against the wall and the students looked at you confused. You and Midnight both pressed a finger to your lips to indicate they should be quiet and ignore you. You snuck into the classroom as quietly as possible and squatted in front of Shouta. You watched the way he slept so peacefully, his ebony hair messy in front of his face. You resisted the urge to move it and waited for what seemed like ages for him to wake.

When Shouta woke he rubbed his eyes before opening them, yawning and noticed someone in front of him. His eyes saw your feet first, quickly traveling upwards to see you sitting in front of him. Your (H/C) perfectly framed your face, your (E/C) eyes bore holes in him as you made eye contact with him. This has to be a dream, he thought. “Surprise.” You said shyly, you voice was soft. It was so delicate that it made his face burn, eliciting a few ‘ooo’s and ‘awes’ from his students. He stared at you in awe, frozen where he sat in utter disbelief. You giggled softly, you stood and introduced yourself to the class. Informing them and Shouta that you were a new teacher at the school. They had a million questions for you but you dismissed them stating they’ll find out later, the bell rang dismissing the class.

With school over the students made their way out of the classroom, leaving you and their homeroom teacher alone. You went to close the door and turned back to face him after waving the kids out. He unzipped himself from his sleeping bag and instantly pulled you into his chest. You blushed loudly and completed the embrace, wrapping your arms around him. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist while the other cupped the back of your head. “(Y/N). Why didn’t you tell me?” He said softly, you giggled into his chest and squeezed him a bit. The sound of your name on his lips made you happier than you imagined.

Lifting your head to him, you never realized the difference in your height while you dreamt. You hummed at his question, “I wanted to surprise you.” You offered a small smile. “And I didn’t want to give you false hope if something came up and I couldn’t come.” Your admission seemed to quell his confusion.

Shouta smiled and lifted you up, “I couldn’t have asked for a better surprise.” He leaned his face into yours, pressing his lips against your own. His lips were soft in comparison to his calloused hands that held you against him. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders, cupping the back of his neck. Desperate to not let go. He tasted like coffee and smelled like spices, he was warm and felt like home. When you pulled away to take a breath you pressed your forehead to his. “I couldn’t begin to imagine my life without you now that I have you here.” He said with a soft smile.

You giggled as he set your feet back on the ground, “I was thinking the same thing.” You both to a moment to look over each other. He was taller and more muscular that you had anticipated, you were shorter and softer than he imagined. He loved every ounce of you, “We should go home.” You offered your hand to his, god he could melt at the sound of the word ‘home’ falling from your lips.

You would be introduced to the rest of the faculty and students tomorrow, soon you would meet the teachers responsible for class 1-A at the faculty dorm you’d be staying in. Tonight you’d be spending all your time with Shouta, familiarizing yourself with each other. He had never slept so well as he did with you wrapped in his arms and pulled into his chest, he was never going to let you go.

[iamvegorott]

A New Life Ch. 8

Too Many Names

Illinois woke up with a painfully dry mouth. He kept his eyes closed as he blindly reached around for one of the several water bottles sitting on the end table. He managed to open it up and then drank the whole thing in one go, gasping for air when he finished. Illinois rubbed his face with both hands and then started patting around the bed, trying to find Yancy. 

“Yanc?” Illinois’ voice came out hoarse, making him clear his throat. “Yanc?” He tried again, a little clearer this time. Illinois noticed the mess that was the blankets and decided to look over the edge of the bed, holding back a laugh when he finally found Yancy. 

Yancy was on the ground, stomach down, head to the side with his mouth wide open as he slept, little hums coming from him as he breathed, showing that he was still asleep. Illinois smiled and crawled off of the bed and laid on the ground next to Yancy, noticing that his movement had started waking Yancy up. 

“Wha-” Yancy scrunched his face up. 

“Morning~” Illinois sang.

“No.” Yancy turned his head to the other side. 

“If you’re going to sleep in, at least be on the bed.” Illinois sat up and crossed his legs, poking at Yancy’s side. 

“D-Don’t.” Yancy tried to hold back a giggle. 

“What was that?” Illinois kept poking at Yancy. 

“Stop!” Yancy rolled over to his back. 

“Gotta make sure you’re up.” Illinois crawled over and sat on top of Yancy, going full force into tickling him. 

“Ah! I’m awake! I’m awake!” Yancy slapped at Illinois’ arms, laughing loudly. 

“Morning.” Illinois stopped his hands, leaned down, and grinned.

“Yous a shit,” Yancy said.

“You’re right.” Illinois winked. 

“I…” Yancy found himself losing what he was going to say. He placed a hand on Illinois’ chest and felt his face get warm when Illinois took that hint and moved in closer. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” Illinois waited a second before going down all the way and pressing his and Yancy’s lips together. 

Yancy had his other hand go to Illinois’ chest as well, telling Illinois he wanted more and was comfortable. Illinois had his own hands go to Yancy’s waist and give it a little squeeze, tilting his head and silently telling Yancy to part his lips with his tongue. Yancy’s hands curled up and a little whimper came from him when he did what he was told. 

“You’re adorable,” Illinois said when he parted to let them catch their breath. 

“N-No I’m not.” Yancy’s face was bright red and he couldn’t keep his mouth closed as he panted.

“Sure you’re not.” Illinois went down for another kiss but paused when the door was knocked on. 

“Wilford?” Yancy asked.

“He wouldn’t knock.” Illinois got up and helped Yancy to his feet. Both of them went over to the door and opened it, not expecting to have to look down.

“More kids?” Yancy said, seeing two young boys in front of him. One stood in front of the other, bright purple hair and glazed over gray eyes, and the one behind him, who was much shyer had a tint of blue to his own hair with black eyes and strangle lines on his face. 

“You see dads?” The boy in front asked. 

“Dads?” Illinois asked. 

“My dads Chay and Mar and Blank dad is Mare.” The boy in front gestured as he spoke. 

“The parents,” Yancy said. “Chase and Marvin, right?” Yancy saw the boy nod his head. “And Mare is his, Blank’s, dad?”

“Yep!” The boy perked up. 

“And you are?” 

“Oh! I Robbie.” The boy pointed a thumb at himself. “I zombie.” 

“You’re...a zombie?” Yancy wasn’t sure if Robbie meant it literally or not, either would not shock him. 

“I Virus, like Ant.” Blank finally spoke, but stayed behind Robbie and was holding his arm. 

“Anti?” Yancy got another head nod. Illinois stayed back and watched Yancy interact with the kids, figuring that he was doing really good on his own and didn’t want to throw off the vibe. 

“You know where at?” Robbie asked. 

“Sorry fellas, but we hasn’t seen them yet. We just woke up.” 

“Okay! Let go ask Wilf.” Robbie took Blank’s hand and lead him down the hall. 

“I need coffee,” Illinois said. 

“Same.” Yancy slipped out of the room. 

“Hopefully we’re not missing anyone else. I don’t think I can keep track of any more names.” Illinois chuckled as they made their way to the kitchen. 

“Yous just jinxed us.” Yancy bumped Illinois with his hip. 

“Morning guys.” Illinois greeted Mad and Mare when he saw them. Mad was drinking from a fairly large glass with what looked like iced coffee in it and Mare had a mug himself. 

“Morning.” Mare greeted back while Mad just tilted his head, staring at them. 

“I’m guessing you crashed here last night?” Illinois asked. 

“Everyone did, there’s plenty of room here and it’s safer to keep everyone in one place when alcohol is involved,” Mare answered. 

“Is that why yous kid here?” Yancy asked, seeing Mare’s face change to worry. 

“He’s up? He shouldn’t be up.” Mare placed his mug down. 

“He’s in the hallways with Chase and Marvin’s kid.” 

“I was hoping they’d sleep in.” Mare sighed and headed out of the room. 

“Blank is-”

“I know,” Mare said to Phantom as he passed him. Yancy quickly looked away from Phantom when he realized he was only wearing an oversized shirt. 

“You know it’s proper to at least have some pants on when you’re at someone else’s home,” Mad said, finally snapped out of his staring. 

“It’s also not proper to get fucked in someone else’s house.” Phantom giggled while Mad clamped his lips together. “And boy, did I get fucked last night.” Phantom took the mug Mare was drinking from and took a sip himself. “Let me tell you about how Jackie-”

“We don’t want to hear it.” Mad cut Phantom off. 

“Then plug your ears because I am excited to talk about getting the life railed from me.” Phantom laughed loudly as Dark came into the kitchen. Phantom smirked and bounced up to sit on the counter, eyes on Dark as he went to the kettle he was next to. 

“Yes?” Dark said, not looking at Phantom. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one who had fun last night.” Phantom poked Dark’s neck, pointing out the several bruises that were there. 

“Don’t touch me.” Dark slapped Phantom’s hand away. 

“I forgot, only Anti can touch you~” Phantom tucked a leg up. 

“Shut up.” Dark pushed Phantom’s leg back down. “Don’t expose yourself more than you already are. 

“You mean like-” Phantom started to lift up the shirt but in a blink, Jackie was suddenly in front of him, hands on the shirt and keeping it down. 

“What the fuck?” Yancy fixed his hair that had been blown messy by a strange gust of wind. 

“Aw, you’re already possessive?” Phantom teased, wrapping his arms around Jackie’s neck. “Someone’s been wanting me longer than he’s let on~” 

“I-uh-we-we’re gonna-” Jackie grabbed Phantom and the two were gone, the same wind from before brushing by Yancy and Illinois. 

“Speed,” Dark answered before they could even ask. 

“I need bleach in my eyes.” Mad groaned and downed half of his coffee. 

“Do I need to tell Mare how fast you’re drinking that?” Dark said.

“Do I need to tell Edward how much sugar you’re using?” Mad said back.

“I feel like I’m watching one of those family shows on TV, but like, the more mature ones,” Yancy whispered to Illinois. 

“Hey, Darky~” Anti was now on the counter when Phantom had been before but at least he had pants on with his not-fitting shirt. “Oh, thought you’d be alone.” Anti popped his lips. 

“When are we ever alone?” Dark sighed. 

“I mean, last night-” Anti was cut off by Dark placing a hand over his mouth. “Darky, you’re supposed to have it here.” Anti lowered Dark’s hand to his throat. 

“I don’t want coffee anymore.” Yancy moved to leave and went face-first into a chest. 

“Sorry, didn’t think you’d be turning so fast.” Wilford chuckled. “How-” Wilford went to wrap an arm around Yancy’s shoulder but paused. “-may I?” 

“I-uh-yeah?” Yancy was not expecting him to ask permission. 

“How are we doing this morning?” Wilford grabbed Yancy’s shoulder and had him face the others. 

“Learning more about the others than expected or wanted,” Illinois said. 

“You’re just seeing the aftermath of a family gathering.” Wilford laughed. 

“I hope they don’t happen often,” Yancy muttered. 

“Well, now that Anti’s more in Dark’s favor, they might.” Wilford let Yancy go and went over to Dark and Anti. “We still on for our jobs today or do I need to make some calls?” Wilford asked Dark. 

“We’re still going as planned. Tell the others to meet in the room by noon and we’ll sort out from there.” Dark stated. “Have them be ready for the day as well, they are not to go on a job, they are just to observe the setup.” 

“Got it.” Wilford fired a finger gun and went right back over to Yancy and Illinois. “You heard the boss-man, get yourselves ready by noon and I’ll take you over to the meeting room. It’s time for you two to finally see what we do around here.” 

“Finally,” Illinois said and Yancy looked at Mad, who was once again watching them. Yancy turned away and joined Illinois at the coffee pot, he’ll ask about that later. 

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

Tag List: (let me know if you want added or if your name has changed) 

@rainymae523 @m0th-goo @windymischeif @voonespelle @ashywasteland93@its-miinty

[doomtodivide]

Imagining The Future: Bastille's New Era Analysis

Hello all! The following is taken from the first of my new era update posts on r/Bastillecult. I highly reccomend reading all the posts on there!

Last time I had a few solid guesses with the whole Goosebumps EP transition period, so I figured I would try my luck with this new era. I've broken everything down into a few categories that should hopefully flesh out a sketch of possibilities

Aesthetic: The new logo has a very sleek design. This complete change in aesthetics is very noticable. Bad Blood was filled with literature references, a cozy and nerdy looking dan, and more earthy looking tones. Wild World focused on nihilism, movie references, and an all too realistic dystopian city aesthetic. Doom Days focused on escapism, partying, fucking, and a red and home-y vibes. The lack of color and the clean and sleek look points towards it being a more future oriented era.

Triangle: For a deeper background, I highly recommend reading u/casperwyomingrex 'spost.

The WW era triangle and this new triangle are technically called deltas. While I am by no means a geometry person, I’ve been told by a few math nerds that these triangles are technically not possible in certain plains and spaces, making them impossible. While it is likely that Bastille just needed to explore just slightly outside the normal definition of a triangle to match this aesthetic, the impossible triangle t-shirts hint that there is significance to having “impossible” triangles. This hints that there may be more in common between the WW Era and the Future Era, ie. a dystopian society.

Dystopia: Bastille created an entire dystopian corporation for WW. I remember them saying somewhere they hated the promo and touring process for this album, leading them to switch up the process for DD and the Goosebumps EP. With the record label change and covid shaking up the world, this opens up the opportunity for them to have a redo with this era, especially considering it is a fan favorite era. Many people have pointed out that hint has a vibe similar to black mirror, a sci-fi dystopian show, which would fully support a sci-fi dystopian aesthetic era.

Sound: Though the clip is only 8 seconds long, it gives us some hints about the new era. Bastille once again uses synths for sound, creating a reference to Sci Fi sound effects. The clip mirrors the effect of oscillators to create things like laser sound effects, teleportation, warping, and other “space” noises. I find the juxtaposition of Sci-fi interesting; it was most popular in the early 1900s, meaning Bastille is referencing the past, yet it focuses on the future, which in the lense of Sci-fi, would mean the 2000s and beyond.

In the lens of broadcasting, short interludes are used throughout advertising to the point where many people don’t even think about this. A lot of them are used to hook us in and signify a certain company or thing. In advertisements they are used to signify the company’s presence and to worm the product into our brain. In casinos they are used as a dopamine reward. News stations use them to signify the station. This especially could be relevant in a dystopian society. I’m mentioning this because the clip doesn’t sound full enough to be a song, rather an intro to a news station segment. I find this especially notable considering WW had a news anchor. Looking back, a few videos from wild world could hold significance. This video

has a sci-fi esc clip in the intro.

In Previous Context: In the context of ReOrchestrated, Bastille is no longer letting imposter syndrome or shitty opinions stop them from what they want to do. Meaning they are going full force into the future. There's one specific time during the ReOrch doc where the boys talk about how ReOrch made them realize they could try new shit, even if management thinks it will fail. Dan has spoken in a few interviews now about being excited about collabing (and mentioning relinquishing control to others in the ReOrch doc), a few artists have come forward about working with Dan. While it’s unlikely that every collab we’ve theorized about will go through, Dan Wilson and Ryan Tedder seem to be confirmed in the roster based off of their interviews

When considering the past, a lot of previous songs focus on nostalgia; for example, in Fake it “We can never go back / We can only do our best to recreate.” Post ReOrch and DD, Bastille has worked up enough confidence to push into making their own future, one unlimited by nostalgia and fear.

In the Context of the Goosebumps EP, Inception and Vanilla Sky are both referenced. Both of these movies mark the first time* (to my knowledge

) that futuristic sci-fi has been referenced in Bastille. There is significant overlap with dreaming and time travel, something that could definitely be applied to this era. While it could be coincidental, Bastille has been quite purposeful with using references to add to the era’s aesthetic (see Aesthetic section). Referencing them during a transition period points towards both the literal future (new era) and a new aesthetic.

*Cosmos: War of the Planets and twilight zone have both been referenced but fall into a different category of sci-fi than Vanilla Sky and Inception

In Regards to Distraction Tactics Space Week and WW, alot of it holds very similar aesthetics. This video

from WW also holds a similar aesthetic. Considering DT is linked through space and WW is linked through dystopian this might MIGHT be related.

Hints: It wouldn’t be a new Era without Dan “Soon” Smith teasing us a bit, so here are a few highlights. In this interview

, Dan says “I want to tell you but I can’t! We just want to reflect on the future…” The No Bad Days tweet and the #ToTheSky post likely plays a part in the new era, but the 8 second clip does not have any immediate hints. The art installation in the #ToTheSky post originally caught my interest when it was posted. James Turrel, the artist that created the installation, uses light as a medium to create art. The installation, called the Space That Sees, is described as an “allegory of light that we generate from inside and light that comes from outside: the emergence into space where light comes forth as in a dream." While I have no fucking clue how to interprete this allegory, I imagine space, light, and dreaming will become key players in the new era. A few other notable works of his are the Raethro Pink and Alta Pink, both of which are pinkish purplish white triangles light projections surrounded by inky blackness. The use of Bastille’s triangle logo and a flash of light purple light means there are likely deep ties between the new era and James Turrel’s creations; furthermore, he also acquired a dormant cinder cone volcano to turn into an a museum/observatory using light apertures to observe the solar system, adding further ties to the space and light themes.

Meaning: "You Don't Predict The Future. You Imagine It" I have purposely not used predict in this analysis so I don’t jinx this era. I’ve found a few variations of this saying (You Can’t Predict The Future. But You Can Create It), but all of them seem to point towards creating the future instead of guessing. I imagine not many of my predictions of this era will not be accurate because I am not the one imagining it. I feel like this might also point towards being conscious about what you want out of the future instead of merely guessing where the tides will take you. This could also be like that one story of a kid's drawings turning into real creatures because of the kid imagining it. I feel like “future” and “imagine” point deeply towards sci-fi because of the creative inventions that will take us there. This could also connect to the theory that the survivin’ coin is linked to A.A., and this statement being a motto to help someone escape addiction. Personally, I feel like this clip is the beginning of some sci-fi choose your own adventure video game, but that's my own opinion.

My Personal Crazy Conclusion: It wouldn’t be a post from me without me shooting out some crazy theories. A Light Cult Utopia. That's right. It would be the opposite of WW, meaning it would be new territory for Bastille and it would break a mold (ReOrch doc). It would also give Dan the ability to be more positive then he has been in the past, while also allowing for his normal cynical undertones. Bastille is purposeful with their references, meaning the Jonestown reference in DD might have a bit more purpose behind it. The lighter colors used in the clip would point to happiness. Considering utopias are “imagined” it would fit the phrase in the clip. Sci-fi would also fit into this as being imagined. Considering there are a few space references, I imagine that humans have imagined perfect spacecraft, further fitting sci-fi and a utopian society. Also, Dan collabed with Future Utopia on the track “What’s In A Name?” That's right, what’s in a name? The name being Future Utopia? An entire new era being the name? That right cultists, Dan ”Soon” Smith snuck this under our noses the entire time that bastard.

Summary Statement: This new era will likely bring collabs from an entirely new approach. A Sci-fi dystopian (or utopian) world, one focused on dreaming, light, and space will likely be the aesthetic for this era.

Loose ends: I am only one human, meaning I physically could not rewatch Inception and Vanilla Sky while also researching James Turrel, so there might be a few things I missed in my brief look at them. If anyone would like to read 1984 by George Orwell through the whole dystopian thing, there might be a few connections there.

Based on some things I’ve heard from a little birdy, expect some big non-album projects that tie in with this era and other things….

Special thanks to u/0verjoyed and @ ja9zimm on twitter

[bubblesam06]

TWIN FLAME

JJ Maybank x reader

Requested: no

Warnings: Light smut (barely), Fluff, swearing

A/N: This is my first Fan fiction, I’m sorry if it’s bad, I tried :/ anyway please request some ideas because I really want to start doing little blurbs of OBX... hopefully enough for a master list! THANK YOU!!! enjoy! ❤️

Description: The government created a system to better relationships. They thought soulmates were overrated so they created the Twin Flame where two people with the same personality connect with one tattoo.

*NOT MY GIF!! CREDITS TO OWNER!!*

Being John B’s sister is already hard enough, but dating JJ Maybank is like a crowd of underage high hormonal teenagers in one body. I have to say although that may seem tough he’s like my other half or as some would call it “twin flame” even if it’s not yet confirmed I can feel it.

After my dads disappearance JJ has helped me a lot, coming over at 2am just to comfort me, bringing all the snacks you could imagine, and even getting high and running through the neighborhood together. John B has taken it the hardest and believes he’s still out there but me, I have just came to my senses and accepted his death.

———————————————————————

“Y/N, baby let’s go!”

“J give me a minute ok, I’m trying to find my favorite shorts!” JJ always thought you didnt need to dress up for anything he say things like / “you’re already beautiful” “Baby you need to stop worrying about clothing” “you look amazing with or without makeup babe, I still don’t think you need it” \ which you love very much about him but you’re just too insecure thinking you look like an oompa loompa.

“love, come on I put them on the dresser after last night- oh hey Kie” he obviously didn’t realize she was here, “do you think I can talk to Y/N for a minute... alone”

Kie hesitated for a minute before giving in, “yeah I guess, I’ll meet you guys on the boat”

JJ watched as Kiara slowly left the room and right when she closed the door he spun his head around wrapping his arms around your waist picking you up, quickly you wrap your legs around him so you won’t fall. He presses your lips together moving in sync fitting perfectly like a puzzle peice.

“you have no idea how much I needed that” you smile cheekily up at him, his ocean eyes meeting your (Y/E/C) ones, “you know I am almost positive that you’re my twin flame” you smile at his words looking down as your cheeks flushed a light red.

“me too”

that’s all it took for JJ to push you down on the bed his lips attacking your neck, you lean your head back as a low moan escaped your lips

“J-“

he pulls your shirt over your head “J, babe... I wish we can but they’re waiting on us outside-“ your breath hitched as he sucks on a spot that made you crazy.. “never mind... continue- oh god please keep going baby”

you rip his shirt off without breaking the kiss “don’t worry love, we’ll be quick-“

“you guys good? we’ve been waiting- Oh shit guys come on!” John B says as he opens your bedroom door quick to cover his eyes

“JB what the fuck? ever knock?!” you quickly reach for your shirt putting it on, “ok you can look now”

“are you sure?” John B asks

“yes we’re fucking sure” you and JJ say in innusion, “jinx”

“let’s go... hurry up”

you follow JJ out of the room when stops grabbing John Bs shoulder, “you’re a cockblock”

you giggle at JJs remark

“I am not”

you decide you add your own remark “JB as much as I love you, JJ is right this is the sixth time”

he looks down and walks out the door while smiling, “shut up”

You and JJ both laugh at John Bs sudden words “don’t worry love we’ll finish tonight, I promise”

your cheeks turn bright red “oh I know we will” you say as you kiss his cheek

“finally what took so long” kie and pope asked annoyance written on they’re faces “well I found this two on top of each other almost naked” John Bs voice getting louder as his head turns looking at you two

JJ nudges your arm noticing you were dozed off, him not knowing you were thinking about the twin flame hoping you and JJ’s tattoos match.

“it’s not my fault my baby wanted some kithes, plus I told him you guys were waiting” you say grabbing JJ’s cheeks while making kissy faces. JJ repeats your actions, “oh yeah what happened to ‘oh please JJ keep going uhhh don’t stop’ ”

your face turns red as the other pogues fake gag, “oh but you weren’t afraid to moan-“ he places his hand over your mouth stopping you from continuing to talk.

“anyway are you guys excited to see your twin flame tattoo?” Pope asks

you nod in return, “very... but I already know my twin flame” you say as you wrap your arm around JJ he quickly grabs you and places you on his lap “yup dis’ my babygirl” he says kissing your head

“in just four hours we’ll found out how our lives will be forever” Kie says euphorically

you look down at your hands fidgeting them nervously. “Love are you nervous?” JJ whispers tone full of concern, “a little, I just really want it to be you” you whisper “me too bubba, but don’t worry everything will be ok”

He read me like a book

———————————————————————

“sarah JJ wanted me to be with him when we get our tattoo”

“yeah yeah I bet he did now hurry up!” She retorted

You always knew JJ was your splinterbean, but ever since John B and Sarah matched tattoos you got scared because they seemed like complete stranger opposites

“Sarah I swear to god did you take my $50 I was supposed to use for barry- I mean uh my new gold club!” you hear Rafes voice echo throughout the Cameron household. Rafe Cameron. he always had a crush on you even though you were a pogue he still called you cute and sexy which you hated, but JJ it was different when he called you cute and sexy you knew he meant it and you loved that about him.

“oh hey Y/N!”

you roll your eyes “hi” you say trying to walk passed him, you felt a strong hand slap across your butt causing a yelp to leave your lips

“what the fuck Rafe!” you yell bringing your hand across his face creating a loud slap

“aren’t you feisty” he retorts, “wonder what you’re like in bed” That’s it he pushed your buttons. you grab his arm twisting it clockwise then you take your foot kicking him directly in the dick.

he groans making you satisfied that is until he reaches for your leg pulling you down on the ground, he proceeds to punch your face until he saw blood or until Sarah ripped him off you.

“You’re psyco Rafe!” you scream spitting blood from your mouth “go to hell! you know what Sarah i’m gonna go, I don’t know why I came I should be with JJ right now-“

“no please I just wanted to talk to you about something” she says helplessly

“I only want JJ right now”

———————————————————————

after walking for what felt like hours you made it home seeing John B sitting on the porch with Kie and Pope they were taking about something. but you couldn’t see JJ.

“Y/N you’re back- woah what the hell happened?!” John B asked

“nothing”

“that don’t look nothing” Kie added

“I said it’s nothing ok!!” you yell leaving them shocked, “where’s JJ?”

“he’s uh inside” Pope said

you quickly walk inside checking the time, 11:08, shit

“Bubba? Bub where are you?”

“i’m in your room baby!” he answers you

“thank god I thought I was gonna miss the tattoo- Y/N what happened to you?!” Concern and anger flooded his tanned face

his toned body twinkled with sweat from the scorching heat of outer banks, you were mesmerized and couldn’t believe you were his, and he was yours.

“love?” he asked again

“can we just find out our tattoo please?” you ask, “everyone’s outside waiting”

“guys it’s almost 11:11pm we have your tattoos from the mail” The tattoos are etched into your skin like a real tattoo would by a machine that you place on your wrist

“ready baby?” you ask JJ, he nods

“no matter what i’ll always love you” he says before placing the machine on his arm, you doing the same

“and I’ll always love you more!” you say

“Babe what the fuck we’ve been through this I love you more-“

“enough with the fighting!” John B yells

“JB did it hurt this much for you?” you ask between gritted teeth

“it wasn’t bad” he reply’s

after five minutes you take the machine off after hearing it beep and so does JJ, you got excited knowing they were similar tattoos because of the time it took.

“ready Love?” he asks, your heart melted at his nickname for you

“always”

you look down at you wrist seeing a simple line of a wave flowing across your wrist, “it’s beautiful” you say

“on the count of three... one, two, three!”

“a wave!” you both yell in innusion

you scream and shove your lips onto his, squeezing him making sure he doesn’t go anywhere. A simple tear slipped from your eye

“get a room!” John B boos causing the others two shove him

“peace out guys imma go have fun with my twin flame!” JJ yells carrying you in the chateau

“JJ!” you shout playfully slapping his shoulder

“wear protection! and don’t be loud we’d like to sleep tonight!” John B shouts

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 15: Trapped - Adulting: But Ghostly

Screwing up in the Fenton Lab was a pretty normal regular thing, but screwing up in such a way to botch someone’s age and humanness without actually changing said we and humanness was a weird one. This is totally definitely Tucker’s fault. Danny caused it, but it’s still Tucker’s fault.

Tucker chuckles at his two friends, “honestly, helping clean up the lab is a weak ass punishment”, shrugging, “all things considered”.

Danny glances at him while pointedly picking up some very sticky and slightly mouldy, touching it with as few fingers as possible, “you sure about that one?”.

Tucker waves him off, “only makes sense for you to clean up the nasty shit. Unlike us, that won’t get you sick”. Danny flips him off while dropping the soggy piece in the garbage bag. Sam just smirks.

Not even five minutes later Tucker knocks some spray-can thing onto the ground, which in typical fashion explodes. Danny eyes the pink mist and sighs, “whelp, now there’s more mess, thanks Tu-”, cutting himself off at feeling a slight tingling across his skin. Turning to glare at Tucker, “oh fuck you”.

Relenting in said glaring at noticing that Tucker and Sam are both glowing now, glancing to his arm and groaning over the matching glow.... Great, just great. Quirking an eyebrow over watching the skin on his arm slowly stain a pale blue and increase in muscle mass? Looking up to his friends and gapping slightly. Jet black skin patching over Tucker’s face and pale green on Sam’s.

Tucker sounds slightly in awe but also worried as he flips over his clawed hand a few times, “okay, might have fucked up a little”, and blinking at the echo to his voice.

Sam grabs at her hair, seemingly made of vines now and with purple flowers popping open, “ya think?”.

Then both of them turning to Danny and grimacing, while he’s having a slight crises at definitely recognising the feel of ecto-flames where there should be hair. Immediately moving to check his pulse, the other two quickly following suit with wide eyes. Sam snapping, “if we just got offed, I’m gonna be pissed”.

Danny’s the first to sigh in relief, being the only one who very frequently checked his pulse normally. He could do without being any more dead, thank you very much.

Tucker snorts, “awesome, so I didn’t just accidentally kill us”.

Danny points at him, “meaning the labs death toll is still only half”, pausing, noting the deep baritone, and touching his throat, “woah”. Then grabbing his much larger than normal hands around his forearm with a quirked eyebrow. Looking up to his friends who are effectively copying him. Both a bit taller and more muscular. Both had longer hair too, though Tucker’s was barely past his ears and dreaded with gold caps on the ends, while Sam’s was nearly past her waist and looked like long vines of purple asters. Their faces were kinda different too and Tucker even had facial hair. They looked... like adults? adult ghosts at that, minus still being in their regular clothing anyways; which definitely didn’t fit super well anymore. Moving his arm a little and actually cringing slightly over the strain his shirt was under; okay, it’s good he wore baggy clothing or he would have ruined his clothing entirely. He might ruin them as it is.

Sam pointing to him, “you sound like Dan”.

Danny shrugs a bit awkwardly, “sound different to myself”. And thank the Ancients for that. He could do without hearing Dan’s voice every time he opened his mouth. Does feel slightly bad for his friends though.

All three make their way over to the back wall mirror and poke at their faces. Blinking eyes and baring fangs. Tucker chuckles, “I have fucking facial hair”, and starts hopping around on his feet, “and what am I? Like six feet tall?”.

Sam and Danny roll their eyes. Danny crossing his arms and looking down at Tucker. Who pauses just to shove Danny, “hey, we all already knew you were going to be a tall bastard”, then going wide-eyed, “dude holy shit! That stuff turned us into adults! Awesome!”.

Sam points at him, “and ghosts”, pulling at the corner of her eyelid, “though yes, green eyes are pretty wicked”.

Danny points at her, “and your skin’s such a pale green than your eyes don’t blend in”. Sam just smirks at that. Tucker pats him on the back though, “well at least yours aren’t red”.

“Amen to that”.

Sam shakes her head a little, putting her hands on her hips, “okay, as cool as this is -though it is kinda curious we’re not displaying powers- I think we should, I don’t know, fix this?”. Danny rubs his neck while nodding and Tucker snatched back up the can before flopping into a chair, “I got this. Hold your ecto-knickers”. Trying to lean his head back only for the headrest to not be up high enough, muttering, “man that’s weird”, as he readjusts it.

-

Forty minutes later finds Tucker groaning, “okay, I officially really screwed up. Completely screwed the pooch”. Earning loud groans from his two friends.

Sam pushes herself up, “alright, Mr. Bad Luck, the fuck’d you do?”.

Tucker sticks out his hands, smashing one on a table, “ts not what I did! It’s what the Fenton’s didn’t do! Also, ow”.

Danny and Sam sighing, “let me guess, no reverse option and they didn’t write the formula down?”.

Tucker snaps his fingers at them, “bingo. Man, it’s like you’re psychic”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “more like my parents are just predictable... and kinda incompetent”. Everyone cringing a little over that.

Sam rubs her eyes, “alright, so now what are we going to do? We can’t go anywhere like this and we-all-know-who will shoot us the second they get home”.

Danny taps his chin, “well, I’m not in my jumpsuit so I don’t look blatantly like Phantom so I think I’m in the clear for that. And we have planned for a situation where I couldn’t change back human. So I’ve already got makeup, wig and contacts. But Wig and contacts only work for me and I’m definitely not your guy’s colour”.

Tucker snorts, “you don’t say you pasty-ass fuck”.  Sam rolls her eyes, “excuse you?”.

“You’re pale, he’s pasty”.

Sam nods curtly with a smug grin. Danny just chuckles.

Tucker claps the chairs armrests, “whelp we should probably at least get you looking human, before we run out of luck or something”. Sam grumbling, “you’re gonna jinx us”. Which Tucker, of course, waves her off as they all get up.

However when they walk into the living room just as the front door opens, Sam and Danny glare at Tucker who laughs awkwardly, “oops?”. All three snapping their heads towards the pair of hunters as said hunters immediately, and predictably, draw ecto-weapons, “hold it right there spooks!”.

Danny holds his hands out, “wait! Wait! We’re not ghosts!”.

His mom doesn’t let him continue, “can it, we know what ghosts look like”. His dad nodding, “you might be able to trick some regular joes but not the Fenton’s”.

Sam mutters, “wow this is awkward”. Tucker just nods slightly at her while gulping.

Danny makes pacifying motions, “but wouldn’t we be floating and stuff if we were newly formed ghosts. We’re not even glowing properly”, it was true, their glows were so small they practically weren’t glowing at all, “so could you put the weapons down, mom, dad”, putting his hands down and shrugging loosely very intentionally, “I’d really rather not get gooped”.

His parents actually look to be considering this, not dropping their weapons though. Figures. His mom readjusting her grip as she goes to dig in her pocket. Producing a chunk of ectoranium seconds later, “well if that’s the case and you’re not ghosts then you shouldn’t have a reaction to this”, and moves to poke Tucker’s arm with the tip, gun staying trained on them all the while. Everyone watching as absolutely nothing happens.

Tucker grins almost apologetically while Danny speaks, “see?”.

Both his parents look puzzled at the ectoranium and Tucker’s arm before Maddie blinks and looks at each of them, her eyes widening, “Danny? Tucker? Sam?”. Which the three of them nod rapidly at. Thankfully their moods do a complete one-eighty at that.

Jack practically bounding over to Danny and actually having to look up at him slightly, laughing and patting his head, “ha! I knew someone was going to get my Fenton genes!”, and pats him on both shoulders like he was measuring how wide he was. Maddie smiles sweetly at him before giving the group of teens who don’t look like teens a puzzled look again, “what I don’t get is, how’d this happen?”.

Danny and Sam immediately pointing at Tucker, but wind up smacking him in the face. Danny chuckling, “shit sorry man, ain’t used to the arm length”. Tucker predictably waves both of them off, though rubbing his cheek from Danny’s hit because well, getting effectively smacked by someone with super-strength and hands that look like pure muscle hurts.

Sam rolls her eyes and explains to Maddie, “that idiot knocked over a spray can looking thing that sprayed pink mist everywhere”.

“Hey, at least I didn’t do it intentionally”. Everyone ignores that.

Maddie taps her chin, “I don’t understand. It shouldn’t have been able to do this without something ectoplasmic around”. While Jack is off in his own world wrapping his fingers around Danny’s biceps.

Danny chuckles at his excitable dad before looking to his mom, “mom. My contamination?”.

That gets both his parents attention, them blinking and going wide-eyed, “oh”.

Sam huffs and crosses her arms, “and really, you’d think you guys wouldn’t have teens, especially Danny, cleaning up down there if you even think you have stuff that can go off like this. It’s irresponsible”. Tucker chuckles, “I’m just glad we only look like ghosts“. Everyone, especially Danny’s parents, nod rapidly at that.

Tucker nodding his head at the lab doors, “I tried to find a reverse or the formula and back engineer it, but you guys forgot to do that... again”. Making both parents cringe a little, Jack rubbing his neck awkwardly.

Danny nods at Tucker before looking back to his folks, “so on that note, do you think you could fix this? Because you didn’t recognise us and I don’t think that Red will pause long enough to hear us out”. Sam scowls and rolls her eyes over that. Danny adding on, “something to at least get us looking human again. We can probably handle the adult-looking thing”.

Tucker chuckles and strokes his facial hair, “it is pretty neat”, smirking at his friends, “I bet the ladies will dig a guy with facial hair”, glancing to Danny’s face, “that isn’t on fire”. Both Sam and Danny predictably hit him.

“No trying to pick up older women, you pervert”.

“Hey, you can barely tell it’s flaming and you’re still you so don’t count on that”.

Tucker pouts at both of them, “why do you have to be so mean”, but obviously doesn’t mean it.

Maddie and Jack smile at the threes antics, if they hadn’t already been sure they would be now. Maddie smiles sweetly at Tucker, “you’re a minor. So please don’t do that”, shaking her head at him waving her off though knowing he probably won’t actually chase after an older woman. Looking to the three of them, “how about we get you three back down to the lab and see what we can do? Alright?”. The three look to each other, exchange shrugs, and following the pair of hunters down to the lab. Jack immediately bounding off and picking up the can.

None of the trio are really surprised that Maddie gets them to sit down and starts examining them, leaving the can to Jack. Her putting a stick in Danny’s mouth and blinking at the forked tongue, “well sweetie, you make for one very intimidating ghost”. Her continuing when the trio all cringe, “technically that’s a good thing. Ghosts are supposed to be scary, you wouldn’t want to be like the Box Ghost now would you?”, all three cringe way more over that, so Maddie gives a satisfied curt nod. While Danny starts fiddling with his tongue.

Maddie pokes at Sam’s flowers, “can you feel this?”.

“Yeah”, putting a little bite in her words, which sounds more than a little threatening with the echo, “so maybe don’t go ripping them off”. Maddie nods while Tucker chuckles, “man the echo sure changes the way we sound. I doubt you meant for that to sound like a threat”. Sam just huffs at that, making Danny and Tucker chuckle at her expense. Maddie, however, smiles slightly, relieved that she hadn’t actually been being threatened; it could always be hard to tell with Sam.

Maddie stares at and inspects Tucker’s skin quizzically, “we’ve never even seen a ghost with pure black skin before. Wonder why”. Everyone shrugs at that, except Jack who’s off in his own world tinkering away. Tucker snickers and elbows Danny, “well we’ve all seen ones with blue, isn’t that right”.

“Do you want me to punt you through a wall? I’m pretty sure I could very easily”, Danny flexes slightly for emphasis but facepalms at ripping sounds, “damnit”. Everyone else snorts and starts laughing at him.

Jack makes a hum that sounds more unhappy than anyone wants to hear, him grabbing Maddie’s arm to drag her over without even looking at her. The trio exchanging glances, all three muttering, “fuck”. Maddie turning around and looking a bit apologetic, “well, it seems that Danny’s contamination sort of... messed with things a little”. The trio groan. “Or rather, bonded with it. Even now the ecto that he sheds off is feeding into the chemical that’s in your systems. If you stayed away from him for at least a week you’d go back to normal on your own. But there doesn’t seem any way for us to artificially force this to revert”, sending Danny a very sympathetic look, “and I can’t see any way to fix this for you sweetie, sorry”.

Danny leans back and groans, before giving his friends awkward looks and rubbing his neck. They don’t even let him get a chance to say anything before Sam snaps, “not happening then”. Tucker nodding and smiling, “yeah, we’re not avoiding Danny-dude. And we’re especially not leaving him to put up with this by himself”. Maddie can’t help but smile at them, “you guys are probably the closest friends possible”. Which all three beams over, even if Danny still looks pretty apologetic.

Everyone turning their heads at Jack shouting, “ah-ha!”, and spinning around in his chair, “alright, so we totally can make another spay that could hide all this ghost-looking stuff!”, muttering at the floor, “won’t fix the aged up thing”, looking back to them, “but! It’ll get you looking human! All of you”. Earning grins all around.

Maddie looking back to the trio, “we’ll work on that, you three go upstairs and play games or eat. I don’t think any of us want you down here in case the prototype malfunctions”. Which all three laugh at.

“Yeah wouldn’t want to make this worse!”.

“Besides, Danny needs to change”.

“Hey. But yeah”.

Maddie shakes her head at the three as they head upstairs.

-

Danny flops down on his bed, having changed into a very stretchy sweater and sweats, “so I guess we’re stuck like this huh?”.

Sam giving a very apathetic, “yup”, as she flops down in her beanie, before wincing and sitting up, pulling her hair out of the way. Grumbling, “this is why I keep my hair short”. Tucker shakes his head around, making the dreads and metal on them smack his face, “I don’t know, it’s kinda fun”.

“Grow it to ass length and see how you feel then”.

“Naw, I’m a guy so”.

“Are you saying only girls can have long hair!”.

Danny snickers over what sounds like a mild slapping match. They’d be fine. School though, ho boy that was going to be a fucking trip. There was literally no way in all the infinite lands of the Ghost Realm that people wouldn’t freak over them looking like adults. Zone, he could see people asking to get sprayed too. Because honestly? Who wouldn’t want to automatically know how they’d look when they’re older. Danny gets that it’s a little less novel for him due to the whole Dan thing, but still. Adding in the ghost thing. Tilting his head, though it was kinda funny Sam wound up with flowers in her hair and wait... wasn’t the area around Tuck’s eyes a bit darker? Glancing at his friends and squinting, yeah Tuck looked like he kinda had makeup... on... wait a second. “Guys”, pointing at the two of them, “Pharaoh. Undergrowth”.

They both blink at him before Sam grabs at her hair and shoved a pocket mirror at Tucker to poke at his eyes. Tucker blinks and hands back over the mirror, “huh, well let’s not point this out to your folks. Like seriously dude”. Sam nods and frowns, “you don’t think this’ll give Undergrowth some control over me?”, looking between the two boys, “and should we really be surprised? We already knew the stuff that happened those times wasn’t really something that just goes away. Undergrowth adopted me”, pointing at Tucker, “and your soul is still T. Duulaman’s, sceptre or no”.

Danny hums and taps his chin, “I don’t think we have to worry about being controlled. We’re not actually ghosts. We just look like them. But fair point. And not like we can really do anything about it”. The two sighing, “yeah”. Danny points at them again, “but if this does start negatively affecting you guys, like our kind of negative, then you guys are staying away from me to get this to wear off. I’ll go hide at the ClockTower Citadel if I have too”. They both roll their eyes at his typical overprotective antics but they do nod.

Tucker points at him and leans forward, “honestly, you should visit ClockWork over this, I’m not sure if this ‘aged up’ thing would count as messing with time. Especially for other people to see”. Danny hums and nods at that. Sam nods herself and gets up to flop on the bed next to him, “and maybe ask them how to fix you. Because you being stuck ghost-looking in both forms screams bad news”.

Tucker joins them on Danny’s other side as Danny replies, “yeah. As it is when I’m an adult ghost my parents are so definitely going to put the pieces together now”. Both them snort at that, pointing out that that was ridiculously obvious. Tucker smacking him, “first, you need a bigger bed. Second, it’s not like you intended to keep this from them after Highschool anyway”.

Danny snorts, “true, on both accounts”.

-

It surprisingly doesn’t take long for Danny’s folks to barge into the room. Jack presenting a little perfume-looking bottle dramatically, “it’s done! And was surprisingly easy!”.

The trio blink, Sam muttering, “huh, that never happens for us”. Making them chuckle a little as they go about getting up. Danny asking, because he has to ask, “and it’s good for me? You checked it against my stuff?”.

Maddie nods at him reassuringly right off the bat, “no worries sweetie, that’s the first thing we did”. Which he grins over as the three stand to let themselves get a good spray down. Everyone watching in fascination as their skin starts patching back to their normal human skin tones. Jack actually whispering, “that looks so cool”, and Maddie patting him on the arm.

The first thing Danny does is pat his hair, sighing over it no longer being fire. “Awesome”, and puts his hand to his throat, “huh”.

Tucker blinks at him, “you know, without the echo you actually sound kinda sexy”. Everyone looks at Tucker with disbelief; Sam smacking him over the head. Everyone starts laughing after a bit though.

Danny giving his mom a hug, which is weird with her being so much smaller than him, “thanks mom”. She leans up to ruffle his hair, looking slightly apologetic, “of course, Danny. And we’ll try to keep the volatile stuff put away from now on”. Sam and Tucker snicker knowing that won’t even last a week. Never did. Danny just laughs, “appreciated”, even if he also knew it wouldn’t last.

Jack laughs, hands on his hips, “well you kids’ make for pretty fine looking adults!”. The three all grinning at him. But that gets Maddie to tilt her head and squint at Danny. Him quirking a sharp eyebrow at her before she leans forward and sticks her fingers in his mouth, “uhhhhh”.

Jack and Maddie both blink at him, though Sam and Tucker bend over laughing. Maddie speaking up, “you have fangs still”. Danny leans back to get her fingers out of his mouth, “ah well, my contamination was bound to affect me, right?”, and rubs his tongue over his teeth. At least his tongue wasn’t still forked. That was something.

Tucker leans over and flicks his ear, “ears are pointy too”, and snickers. Danny batting away his hand.

Maddie frowns a little but nods, “yes, I guess that would make sense. Can’t say I like it though”. Jack waves her off, “oh it looks manly on him! And people intentionally get their teeth and ears pointed sometimes! Right Sam?”. Sam nods but is frankly surprised he’s waving this off. Honestly, so is Danny.

Maddie purses her lips but nods, “you do have a point”, looking to Danny, “well I guess you better get used to it. You’re stuck with it”.

Danny shrugs, “eh I’m not complaining. Didn’t even notice”, baring his teeth, “are they that noticeable though?”. Sam rolls her eyes, “yes”. While Tucker snorts, “Vlad would be jealous”.

Jack tilts his head, “Vladdie has fangs?”. All three blink at him in disbelief and speak in unison, “you didn’t notice?”. Jack shakes his head and shrugs, while Maddie taps her chin, “now that I think about it, yeah I’ve noticed. But it’s been so long that I don’t think I really notice any more”.

Sam mutters, “that tracks”, to herself. Danny rubs his neck, “ah well hopefully you’ll get used to mine then too I guess”, he seriously can’t believe his dad’s never noticed though. Vlad flashed them threateningly all the time. Or maybe Danny was just more likely to notice thanks to heightened vision and ghost instincts.

Maddie hums, “well anyway, you kids should get some rest before school tomorrow. I don’t doubt that will be a bit hectic”.

All three giving matching deadpanned, “obviously”’s. As the couple turn to leave, not without Jack patting Danny’s head excitedly though.

-

The three stare at the door for a beat. Tucker clapping Danny on the back, “I think your dad likes the height”. Sam rolling her eyes as she moves back to the bed, “only because someone’s finally taller than him”.

Danny shrugs as him and Tucker move to join her, “eh, can’t say I blame him. It’s just like how being around ghosts that are actually stronger than me makes me feel less overpowered”, squinting at them, “and no, I don’t just mean ClockWork”, which earns laughs from the two.

Sam sighs into the blankets, “you know, when you’re an adult, an actual adult ghost, ClockWork probably will be the only one”. Danny grumbles, “don't remind me”. Which she snorts at.

Tucker rolls over and watches the ceiling a little, “at least being stuck as adults will really only be weird for a few years”, fiddling with his hair a little bit, “think I should keep the dreads?”.

Danny just grunts while Sam actually answers the boy, “they suit you. Keep ‘em. Why do you think I went and gave you fake ones when you tried the whole goth thing”. Now it’s Tucker’s turn to groan, “now don’t remind me”. Making them all laugh.

“Hey, nothing could compare to Sam’s pink get-up when I un-half-died”. Sam hits Danny for that one. Sam smacking Tucker for good measure, “you’re never going to live down hitting on me”.

“More like never going to not wish you hadn’t said yes before I realised you were you”. Sam shoves him off the bed with a scowl for that one.

Danny mumbles, “sleep sleep time”, and sticks his arm over the bed to physically drag Tucker back up, “come here pillow”, and wraps his arms around both of them tightly.

Tucker chuckles, “your hands are fucking huge now. Seeing that coming for my face was mildly horrifying”. Danny just grumbles incoherently into the bed. Sam sighs, “you’re not going to let us up, are you?”.

Danny grins into the bed, “nope. You’re trapped now”. Earning fond sighs from the two as they settle in to sleep.

[dumbchickwrites]

office affairs -- part 4

Pairings: CEO!Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary: Sam is the CEO of the Red Wing PR agency where Reader has been working for the past two years. Problem is, they both think one hates the other. However, when their friends set them up on a blind date, they’ll realise it was all a big misunderstanding.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: language, Reader is still thirsty, fluff, Mimi wants to gossip.

A/N: This series is part of @marvelmaree​‘s birthday challenge. You can find the masterlist on my blog and hers! Enjoy!

Brunch with your friends and your sister is always a good time. You can’t complain. You have drinks, food and some of the people you love the most. And on this particular Sunday, you still feel the euphoria of your date with Sam.

All weekend you tried to let it go already, telling yourself that you were acting like a middle school girl. But at the same time, who cares, right? Once again, you reminded yourself to let yourself be for a moment, without your self-consciousness stopping you from simply feeling.

“Is she daydreaming again?”

“I bet she’s thinking about Sam.”

“Who’s Sam?”

“No one, baby. Eat your food.”

Someone snaps their fingers in front of your face. You blink a couple of times before frowning at the owner of said hand. Maria doesn’t flinch under your glare.

“Where did you go?” Noelle asked.

You take a sip of your mimosa before you answer.

“Back at L’Orage.”

“Annnnd…?” Natasha pushes.

“We—” you begin, but your gaze meets Michelle’s. 

She’s looking at you like she also wants all the tea. Your eyes lower to her empty plate, hers follow your gaze. You know what she’s thinking, and she knows what you’re thinking. 

“Mimi, you’re done eating right? Why don’t you go watch some TV inside?” you say before her little hand reaches the basket of pastries on the table.

“But—”

“Auntie Henny is right,” Noelle cuts her and you roll your eyes at the nickname. “We don’t want you to get sick, right?” she says, rubbing her belly.

“Okay, Mommy. Can I get more juice from the fridge, please?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you!”

Just like that, she’s back inside the house.

“I thought the use of that nickname was forbidden in this house,” you say.

“We’re in the backyard,” your sister gives you an innocent smile.

You throw your napkin at her but she easily catches it.

“Anyways. We kissed.”

“Huh,” Natasha crosses her arms over her chest and lays back on her chair. “But?”

“What?”

“There’s a but. There’s always a but with you,” Maria says.

“There’s no but. We kissed, that’s it. It was a very nice kiss. Then he took me home—Back here!” you add quickly when you see how big Maria and Natasha’s eyes got. “He said he’s down for a second date.”

“So how do you feel about him?” Maria asks.

“Do you want me to tell you you were right? Because that’s not gonna happen.”

Maria gives you a look. You sigh.

“It turns out he doesn’t hate me at all. He was actually kind of shocked when I talked to him about that. He thought I didn’t like him,” you take another sip of your drink. “I like him a lot. He’s nice, funny, he listens to me when I talk.”

“Annnnnd…?” this time it comes from Noelle.

“And I kinda want him to bend me over a desk some time.”

The four of you burst out laughing like madwomen.

“More seriously, I guess I should thank you guys. I had a really nice time.”

“Aw, you’re welcome, sweetie,” Natasha rubs your arm. “Personally, I think you guys are a match made in heaven. Literally.”

“Don’t jinx it, Nat!” Maria exclaims.

Natasha makes a zipping motion over her lips with a little smirk.

As Noelle refills your champagne flutes and you move on to another topic – here Noelle and Laetitia, the mother of the new kid in Mimi’s class --, you can’t help but feel grateful for this moment.

You were lucky to find people you can rely on other than your sister after so many years. After everything that happened. Sure your sister is your best friend and vice versa, but sometimes you can’t help but feel guilty about all the stuff you dump on her.

It’s not easy for you to interact with people and maintain healthy relationship. You try your best to find a nice balance between over communicating and totally isolating yourself. You’re still a work in progress though.

That’s why all this dating business was pushed aside for a few years.

Maria and Natasha end up spending the rest of the day at your house. You order takeout, drink some more – responsibly though, all while binge-watching Disney movies and playing board games with Michelle. It’s the nicest day you’ve had in a hot minute.

When the girls leave and it’s finally time for bed, you go to sleep with the ghost of today’s smiles still dancing on your lips.

*

In your opinion, Mondays are overrated. You never understood this whole thing anyway. Sure it’s the beginning of a new week, but it’s still a day like the others.

This particular Monday though, is a bit special. You’re excited to see whether or not Sam had the flowers delivered in your office. So excited that you’re walking around with a huge grin, your face beaming as you step into the elevator.

“Well good morning m’lady,” Scott from HR greets you when you step off the elevator. He’s at the front desk, talking to Rumlow.

“Morning Scott,” you say, still smiling.

“You got a secret admirer, huh?” Scott asks.

“Excuse me?”

“Your office is filled with flowers. And I mean filled. Janet walked by ten minutes ago and she hasn’t stopped sneezing since. Y’know, allergies.”

“Oh, um… I—” you stutter, not really knowing what to say.

“I’m just messing with you, kiddo. Just—If it’s a dude from around here, just make sure you stop by my office some time, ‘kay?”

Okay… You need to end this conversation now. You can feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Honestly, it’s not that you don’t like Scott, everybody likes Scott. It’s just that he can be a bit too much sometimes.

“Sure thing, Scottie. You have a good day, okay?”

You don’t wait for his answer before you keep walking towards your office, climbing the stairs leading to the first floor with ease.

A woman you don’t recognize is standing in front of your office, staring at the glass wall. The cleaning crew must have left the blinds open again despite your multiple notes.

“Hello,” you greet her before you reach your office. “Can I help you?”

You can’t see the inside yet but Scott was right, the scent is strong. Just how many flowers did Sam send?

Her gaze meets yours as she whips her head towards you, her long burgundy hair following the movement. She’s wearing a green suit, a bold but beautiful contrast with her skin tone.

“Hi!” she smiles. “I’m sorry, is this your office?”

“Yes. You’re new here, right?”

“Yes, yes. My name is Gamora, I’m the new Digital Manager,” she offers her hand for you to shake.

You introduce yourself as you shake her hand. “… I take care of—”

“Events, yes. It’s written on your door. Anyways, I was just looking at the flowers in your office. Must be nice. My boyfriend… He’s not really that kind of guy.”

“Um…”

Once again, you don’t know how to talk to people.

“Sorry if I’m being weird.”

“Oh, no, it’s… Don’t worry about it. So where are you from?” you ask.

You figure you should at least try to make small talk with her. She seems nice, she has a very kind face. There’s something about her eyes though… She’s clearly been through a lot.

“I’m from New Asgard, in Norway.”

“Wow, how did you end up here?”

“My boyfriend, Peter. He lives in the US and he asked me to move in with him. I couldn’t say no.”

The name makes you flinch, but you wipe the discomfort away as soon as it appears. Peter is a common name. In this city alone there are hundreds of them. You need to get used to it, it’s been years already.

“Well, on behalf of the entire Red Wing team, I’d like to say welcome,” you give her a genuine smile.

“Thank you so much. That means a lot.” With a sigh, she throws one last glance towards your office before she starts walking away. “I better find Scott, we’re not done with the tour yet. I’ll see you around, I guess?”

“Sure. Have a good day!”

Once she turns around the corner, you take the last few steps that lead you to your office.

“Oh my God,” you whisper.

Your office is filled with flowers all right. It’s not just fifty like Sam said. At least a dozen of bouquets of red roses, tulips and peonies are scattered around your office. On your coffee table, the empty spaces on your bookshelf, the floor… everywhere but on your desk. Thank God, the scent isn’t disturbing to you.

“Oh my God,” you whisper again.

You can’t believe your eyes. You set your bag on your desk and draw the blinds over the glass walls to keep the prying eyes out of your business. Walking around a bit, you take the time to inhale and admire every single bouquet.

“Wow, he really wasn’t joking.”

You turn around to find Natasha and Maria standing in your doorway, holding huge mugs.

That’s right the morning coffee. Morning coffee is always in your office on Monday and Wednesday.

“Aw sweetie, don’t cry!” Natasha grabs a tissues from the box on your coffee table and hands it to you.

You didn’t even realize you were crying. Damn, he really had you in the palm of his hand, huh?

“It’s just, no one has ever done something like this for me before, and I feel stupid now because I’m crying for fucking flowers.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid, okay?” Maria chips in. “From what you told us, you’re not used to this kind of treatment, so it’s perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed right now. Here,” she hands you one of the mugs she’s holding. “Mantis told us you just got in so we figured you didn’t have time to make your cup of tea yet.”

“Thank you.”

You take a sip of the beverage, the hot liquid helping with the lump in your throat.

“Is… Is he here?” you ask.

Their offices are located on the floor above yours along with Sam’s, so you rarely see him during the day.

“Not yet,” Natasha replies. “He’s late. Something about getting Falcon a new cone.”

Oh yeah. He mentioned his dog’s surgery Friday night.

“Good morning, ladies. You talking about me?”

There he is.

Sam is standing in the doorway, a smirk on his lips, always handsome. A warm feeling spreads in your chest at the sight of him, and this morning’s grin is back in an instant.

“Samuel,” Maria greets him. “You’re late.”

“Ah shit. The boss wouldn’t like that, would he?”

“Whatever,” Maria rolls her eyes at him.

“Maria, come to the kitchen with me, I want to see if the pastries have been delivered already,” Natasha says, grabbing Maria’s arm.

“But shouldn’t we go with—” her sentence is cut short by Natasha’s pointed look. “Ohhh. Right.”

The girls shut the door behind them as they exit your office, you and Sam left alone.

“Morning,” he says, slowly approaching you. “Do you like the flowers?”

“I do, very much. What happened to the fifty flowers, though?”

Sam shrugs. “They were supposed to represent the number of times I wanted to kiss you. But as the weekend went by, I lost count, so…”

Goddammit.

“Come here,” you mumble.

You grab his hand and pull him closer to you, your free hand finding its place at the back of his neck. The kiss you give him is slow and sweet as you do your best to express your gratitude. You’ve been on one date, yet he has managed to make you feel more special than you’ve ever felt. He really is something. Sam kisses you back, and you can feel him smile as he does.

“Thank you,” you say when you break the kiss. “This is… wow.”

Sam keeps your body close to his, not wanting to let you go just yet.

“You’re welcome. So… about that second date. How do you feel about roller skating?”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“I kind of like it. I haven’t skated since I was a kid, though.”

Sam nods. “Dinner and roller skating. Let’s say… Wednesday?”

“Wednesday sounds good,” you smile.

“Okay.”

Sam peppers small kisses on your lips and the corner of your mouth before letting you go. You instantly feel colder.

As he walks to the door, you seat at your desk and power up your computer, ready to start the work day.

“Wait, I need one more,” Sam says.

He rounds your desk and spins your chair so you’ll face him, before giving you another kiss. Once again, he peppers small kisses on your lips and cheeks and this time, you can’t help but giggle.

“It’s not even noon yet and I’m having the best day I’ve had in a while,” he whispers.

“Stop it. You’re gonna make me blush,” you joke.

“Now that would be my greatest achievement.”

Sam leaves shortly after that, leaving you to start working with the same dumb smile from earlier on your lips.

***

Tags: @marvelmaree​ @ljstraightnochaser @blackmissfrizzle​ @youdonotghostnickfury​ @minillamakeup-blog​

[allforhader]

The Unexpected

Bill Hader x (F) Reader

Requested by: Anon

Warnings: Langauge

Bill having three kids already, he should be experienced in those stressful situations where you’re going to have to drop everything when your wife goes into labor. But he also didn’t plan for Y/N to not make it to the hospital when she delivered. LA traffic is a bitch.

——

When Y/N and Bill got married, they didn’t really plan ahead for anything. Bill went back to filming for Barry after their honeymoon and Y/N was a writer for the show so she had to get her job done. The two found few energy filled moments when they had a day off from Barry and when the girls were with Maggie.

The day Y/N found out she was pregnant she didn’t tell Bill right away. She needed to confirm it without relying on store bought tests. And she didn’t know exactly how he’d feel about having another kid. So it wasn’t until she was around three months when she finally wanted to tell Bill.

Y/N wanted to tell him before the work day started but he jumped right into filming and she didn’t know where to find room. Until Sarah Goldberg and D’Arcy Carden gave Y/N the wildest idea of having a surprised script change. The two only knew she was pregnant because Y/N told her mom over the phone as the two over heard.

“Yo! Hader, there’s been a script change” Sarah states handing Bill the new pages as he instantly looks at Y/N confused.

Y/N shrugs for the most part before standing beside Alec to watch the take be done.

“Was this your plan Y/N?” Alec asks her as Y/N rolls her eyes before whispering to him what’s going on. “Well, if he gets a heart attack from excitement. I’ll blame you”

“You’d blame me when I would probably have one if he does” Y/N gave Alec a look before laughing a bit. Alec moved his stuff from Bill’s director’s chair letting her sit. “Not my idea”

“Actors have crazy ideas. I’m not surprised that this came from the two” Alec states before nudging Y/N to look at Bill look at the script after rounding up who he needs.

“How much you want to bet he’s going to scream?”

“You want to make a bet on my husband’s reaction?” Y/N laughs a bit before relaxing. “Let’s not”

“Ok ok”

Bill stares at the two he got not really understanding how the scene they shot before lead to this one. Or where this scene will be but he froze when Sarah grabbed his shirt.

“You have no idea?”

“What?” Not scripted.

“This is going to be life changing! Get excited!” D’Arcy states as Bill stood there even more confused before looking down at the change.

Sarah suddenly took it from him when he was supposed to have it in the first place. Y/N face palms hearing Alec laugh.

“Get excited about what?!” Bill stares at the two as they have each other a look while the other actors for Barry grew confused on what the fuck was going on.

“Can I be first to say congratulations?”

“What”

The “script change” was really just Sarah and D’Arcy getting up in Bill’s personal space trying to see if he can connect the dots before stating the obvious.

“I did not write this, Im just gonna make that clear” Y/N tells Alec as he knew it was them. No brainer.

“Come on Berkman! How the fuck do you not know?”

“This is really exciting we heard it from your lover”

Bill really is oblivious and kept looking over at Y/N and Alec expecting something. But all he got was a shrug from Alec and a smile with a thumbs up from Y/N. Thanks. Very helpful.

“Can I Uh get the script back”

“Goddamn Berkman!”

“How did you not know she’s pregnant!” Fucking. Finally.

Bill stares at the two confused before being handed back the script and reading the last bit. He froze in place feeling like an idiot for not catching on, even though Sarah and D’Arcy at first weren’t helpful. He immediately looks over to Y/N watching her nod to confirm it as he started getting emotional. Bill handed the script back before quickly heading to Y/N and holding her in his arms crying happily.

“Should we call it a day?” Alec asks knowing for damn sure the two were having their moment. “Alright! We’ll pick up with the actual script tomorrow!” He states letting the two have the rest of the day.

So now Bill knows. It’s a good thing but something he didn’t take into consideration is, this is Y/N’s first and possibly only pregnancy. So even if Bill does know what he’s doing and is willing to take care of a lot of things in preparation. But when Y/N was finishing her second trimester heading into her third, she got extremely anxious over everything and would stay up unexpectedly startling Bill when he’d come home late.

“Shit-“ Bill whisper yells as when he closes the front door around 1 in the morning. Staying at the office to make adjustments to a few scenes, was a mistake.

Bill hangs up his jacket setting his keys down and before he could sneak up to bed. He stops seeing the shine of a screen distract him in the living room.

“Y/N...?” He asks walking around the couch seeing her sitting on the floor with her laptop on the coffee table open to a number of things. “Why are you awake?” He frowns moving himself beside her seeing the scariest shit he’s ever seen looked up about pregnancy. “Okay—Hey?”

“Hm...?” Y/N turns to him looking extremely tired as she was protectively holding her belly. “When did you get home?”

“Not even a minute ago. It’s one in the morning why aren’t you in bed?”

“Well, I was working on...a scene. Then got distracted by a number of things. Also you try growing a human. I can’t get up easily so I stayed here” Y/N sighs watching Bill get up moving the coffee table. He moves in front of her holding his hands out which she took to get help off the floor. “Did you know that 1.61% of births aren’t in a hospital?”

“That’s a very low percentage”

“It equals to 62,228 births, Bill”

“Okay and why are you looking that up?”

“What if I’m part of that one percentage”

“Y/N...I can promise you. When you go into the labor, you’ll make it to the hospital. I doubt you’ll have the baby in the backseat of my car”

“Are you implying that it’s a possibility?”

“Y/N. No”

“Bill it can happen. It probably would knowing my luck”

“What do you mean by that?”

“If you don’t agree with me I’m going to be even more anxious than I was before”

“We’ve gone over this...You get anxious when I do agree with you sometimes” Bill laughs a bit before bringing his wife into his arms. “I highly doubt you’ll have the baby in my car”

“Mmm...better prepare for that possibility Bill” Y/N sighs resting her head against his chest feeling him kiss the top of her head. “The baby is healthy and is on track. But one small thing can fuck everything up”

“Giving birth anywhere other than a hospital won’t fuck up everything. It happens. But still. I promise. It won’t. You’ll have our little one in the comforts of a hospital”

“Just know if fate says otherwise. I’m yelling at you”

“You were going to yell at me regardless baby” Bill smiles resting his chin on top of her head feeling her grip onto his shirt. “It’s going to be okay. Okay?”

“Mhm..”

When the time actually came, Y/N didn’t realize that her water had broke until Bill asked pointed out. Guess she didn’t think about it when it happened. Bill helped her into the backseat thinking she wouldn’t be cramped if she was in the front. He put the hospital bag in the passengers before starting to head to the hospital.

“Bill—“

“Just take deep breaths, we’ll be there soon—shit” Bill frowns seeing the traffic start to become bumper to bumper. “Shit. Fuck. Okay, how close are they?”

“U-Uh. Uhm. Shit—“ Y/N couldn’t really think at this point when she thought the contractions would be more elongated. But they were coming in more expectedly.

This baby isn’t waiting and Bill is trying to find a way out of this traffic and to the nearest hospital.

“I. Fucking—-Told you Bill”

“Y/N—I can’t predict the future!”

“But people—jinx it” Y/N moans in pain unbuckling herself which startled Bill but she knew they weren’t moving any time soon.

As traffic started to lift a bit, just enough for Bill to rely on surface streets. Y/N had already positioned herself comfortably in the backseat trying to “keep it in” until they get to the hospital. It wasn’t until Bill parked in the ER load off that Y/N couldn’t wait. Bill ran inside hurrying over to the nurse’s station.

“I uh. My wife is in the back of my car—She has the baby—“

“Someone get a wheelchair!” One of the nurse called as Bill stopped the nurse.

“She needs more than a wheelchair”

“Sir did your wife get hurt-“

“She had our baby in the backseat” Bill blurts out as the nurse he was talking to went to get an ER doctor for the time being along with a gurney before paging OB.

After two hours of making sure mom and baby were perfectly okay, Bill was let into Y/N’s hospital room finding a very tired wife holding a little bundle of joy wrapped in a blue blanket. The two wanted to be surprised and indeed it was.

“Sorry I killed your all girls streak”

“That’s the first thing you say...?” Bill laughs as the tears of joy started streaming down his cheeks kissing Y/N’s temple before admiring the little boy she’s holding.

“Told you Id be part of the one percent”

“Oh shut up” He smiles kissing his wife lovingly before climbing into the bed beside her.

Y/N instantly handed their little boy to Bill watching him still be shaky when he’s had three before this one. It was honestly and will always be an amazing experience. This one definitely having quite the story to it. Y/N rests her head on his shoulder looking down at their little boy watching him instantly ease into Bill’s arms.

“Wow. A natural” Y/N jokes as she smiles nuzzling close to her husband. “So, the third?”

“William Thomas Hader the third? Wouldn’t that be a mouthful?”

“Bill, really?”

“You know I’m just teasing”

“Mhm”

Bill couldn’t stop smiling at their son as after some time of holding him, Y/N had fallen asleep against him. He loves this, and can’t wait to start this new chapter.

[backtobackbakubabe]

I’m Gonna Make This Place Your Home (Part 3)

Bakugo x Reader

Words: 2896

*****************************************************************************************************

One night, a year or so ago Bakugo had gotten a little tipsy and decided it would be a great idea to take all of the batteries out of the smoke alarms. That way he wouldn't have to deal with them every time he thew a fit and his hands sparked up. So he was really surprised when he woke up one morning to one of them blaring. Kirishima must have replaced them.... damnit shitty hair. He groaned as he rolled out of bed, “What the fuck is going on?” 

He was absolutely exhausted. You had another nightmare last night and just like the last time you accidentally pulled him into it. He handn’t been able to sleep after that and he couldn't go to your room because then you would know he had seen it. He knew it wasn't his fault but it still felt like an invasion of your privacy. 

He strolled out of his bedroom in nothing but a pair of sweatpants and made his was to the source of his growing headache. He walked into the kitchen and there you were. You looked extremely confused and alarmed as smoke billowed from the toaster. You pulled the plug from the wall and huffed at the ruined toast. “Shit...”

He couldn’t help it. He started laughing harder than he had in years. 

You spun around, giving him a good look at the pancake mix in your hair, “OH! Bakugo I’m so sorry! I was trying to make you breakfast... but its definitely not as easy as you make it look...” You plopped down in one of the chairs and it wasnt until now that he realized you weren't wearing any pants. Just his oversized hoodie. He couldnt judge though he wasnt exactly wearing a shirt. A fact you were acutely aware of as you desperately tried to avoid staring at his perfect abs. 

You huffed again, “I ruined everything....”

He smirked, “Nah, theres nothing here that cant be fixed... well maybe not the toast. Thats a lost cause.” He held his hand out to you, “Ready for your first cooking lesson?”

He proceeded to flit around the kitchen like a true professional but he never took over. Instead he would just tell you what you needed to do. He wanted to make sure you were actually learning. He knew he couldnt take care of you forever. There were things you missed out on growing up and he was going to make sure you became a functioning adult. 

You guys sat at the table with the banquet of food around you. You beamed as you took your first bite, “This is actually good!”

He scoffed, “Excuse me? I helped you, of course it’s good...” 

You giggled, “Thanks for that by the way. I know it must be frustrating to teach a grown ass woman how to do basic things...”

“Okay first of all dont ever think that. Its not your fault you didnt get to learn this stuff. And second.... that is the second time you’ve used a curse word today. What gives? Am I rubbing off on you? You’ve only been here a week.” He wagged his eyebrows. 

You gave his shoulder a quick swat, “Maybe I swear like a sailor but I've been playing nice. You dont know me.”

He narrowed his eyes a bit, “You’re right. I dont. But I’d like to...” He bit into a piece of bacon and groaned, “I do know one thing though, you make some good ass bacon.”

He spent the rest of the day teaching you every day tasks from doing laundry to how to use the internet. You paid close attention and would periodically stop him to write something down so you wouldn’t forget.  He was currently showing you how to log in to Netflix when an idea hit him, “Oi! Do you know how to ride a bike?”  

You gave him a weird look, “I used to have one with training wheels when I was little but my mom never taught me how to ride one without them. I had wanted my dad to teach me but he died when I was little.” 

He sucked in a breath. He still hadn't told you about your mom. Did you know what she did to you? Did you know your mom sold you to the highest bidder? And your dad? He had no idea he had died.... was there anything about your childhood that was happy?  “I’m sorry to heat about your dad.” 

You just shrugged, “I was really little. My mom always said I was his little mini me. Said I looked just like him and had the heart to match. He was a really nice guy....” You expression grew sad, “Sometimes when I was younger after I had been taken by the villains... if I was having a really bad day I would pretend he was still alive. Because he never would have let them take me.” A single tear slid down your cheek but you caught it, “Look at me getting all emotional. No need to cry over something I cant change right?”

He took your hand in his and gave it the softest squeeze, “I’d say you’re entitled to a few tears. Given what you’ve been through, I don't know how you get out of bed some mornings.” Especially after the nightmares he’d witnessed first hand.

You sniffed back your tears as you returned a quick squeeze to his hand, “Easy. I have you.” 

He didnt know what to say. To the rest of the world he was Ground Zero, the temperamental, cocky hero. But you see so much more. You bring out the best in him and whether he likes it or not he's changing because of it. “Oi. Put some fucking pants on. You're going to learn how to ride a bike!” 

“....Do you even have a bike?”

No, he didnt. But Kirishima did. “You just worry about yourself, and let me figure out the bike situation. Alright?”

You scurried off to your room to change and get ready for the day. You pulled on a pair of leggings and a clean shirt. It may have been Bakugos but at this point you didnt think he’d mind. You threw your hair up in a ponytail and gave yourself a quick look in the mirror. You really needed a haircut. Even in a ponytail it was well down your back. There was a pair of scissors in the kitchen, maybe you could just cut it yourself. 

Thats how you ended up in the bathroom hair in one hand, scissors in the other. Right as you were about to make your first cut, someone cleared their throat behind you. “Oi! Crazy pants! Put the scissors down before you fuck your hair up. All I said was put on some pants not go full on Mulan...” He sighed, “There’s someone here I want you to meet. He can be pretty annoying but I promise he’s not that ba-”

“Hey who are you calling annoying you grump old man.” Kirishima looked at the scissors in you hand, “Oh cool. Giving yourself a haircut? I did that once when I was seven. Wasn't a good look. But I’m sure yours will look much better.” 

Bakugo was rubbing his temples in frustration, “Y/n this this is shitty hair, shitty hair this is y/n.” 

You gave him a soft giggle, “The fact that he calls you shitty hair makes me think I shouldn't listen to you.” You put the scissors down, “I do want to cut it though. It’s a pain in the ass.”

Bakugo scoffed, “You’re the pain in the ass, dont try and blame it on your hair. Although you do shed worse than any dog I’ve ever known. Your hair is all over the apartment.... Come here.” He turned you towards the mirror, “Alright look straight ahead and dont fucking move... how short do you want it?” 

You motioned to the tops of your shoulders, “Like around here maybe. I dont know what do you think shitty hair?” 

Kirishima chuckled, “You can call me Kirishima.” He shrugged, “I dont know anything about  hair.”

Bakugo huffed, “Yeah clearly, hence the name shitty hair.” He looked at you through the mirror, “I would go just a little longer.... like maybe here.” He motioned to a bit below you shoulder. His hand was rather close to your breasts and it made both of you blush. “I’ll see if I can get you an appointment somewhere soon. Until then what if I just braid it to get it out of the way?”

Your blush deepened, “Yeah that would be nice.” 

His fingers felt so good carding though your hair. You closed your eyes and had to fight back the urge to hum. You needed to pull it together. Bakugo was nice enough to let you into his life and has gone above and beyond to make sure you’re well taken care of and comfortable. You didn't need to fuck that up by having feelings for him. 

Your eyes jolted open when he cleared his throat behind you, “Uh...I’m done now.” Your eyed met his through the mirror and noticed his cheeks were almost as red as yours, “Ready to learn how to ride a bike?”

Kirishima caught Bakugo as you guys were leaving the apartment letting you go on ahead, “Dude? When the fuck did you learn how to braid hair? Who are you and what have you done with Bakugo?” 

Bakugo pulled his arm away from him, “Shut the fuck up and I swear if you tell anyone about it I’ll end you!” Bakugo hadn't been completely honest with his best friend about who you were or why you were living with him. He knew you were the girl from his dreams but he didnt know you had been a prisoner or that there was a small possibility you were being hunted. 

Kirishima raised his hands up in defense, “I’m just saying man you seem awfully invested in this girl. I mean she’s wearing your shirt! She’s obviously pretty and from what I can tell she seems nice and all but come on man you haven't been to work in over a week... The director says you either come in tomorrow or you’re fired....”

Bakugo growled, “As if he would actually have the balls to fire Ground Zero.” He took a few steps before stopping and running a hand through his hair, “Tell him I’ll be there tomorrow... I just need to tell y/n.”

Kirishima put his hand on his shoulder, “She’s a big girl Bakugo. I’m sure she’ll be fine without you for a few hours. Whats the worst that could happen?” 

Bakugo groaned, “I really wish you hand asked that. It’s like you’re trying to jinx us.”

When they got outside you were already sitting on the bike, rolling it back and forth looking like an excited child, “What took you guys so long?! Come on!” 

Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck, “So Y/n... how in the world did you make it this far in life without knowing how to ride a bike?” 

Before Bakugo could intercept the question you were shrugging it off, “Guess you could say I grew up sheltered. Now are we doing this or not?” 

A few minutes later Bakugo was behind you holding your waist and walking slowly as you got used to peddling the bike. 

He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Let me know when you're ready for me to let go.” The combination of his strong hands on your waist and his warm breath on your neck... it was giving you goosebumps. 

You felt a chill run down your spine, “Bakugo dont you dare fucking let go. I thought this was going to be a lot easier!” 

He chuckled, “Don’t be stupid you’re doing fine! I won't let go until you’re ready.” 

You took a deep breath, “Okay I can do this.... It’s not a big deal. Children do this.... Bakugo I think I’m ready...”

“Well good because I already let go.” 

Your head swiveled back and forth incredulous that you had not noticed that he had let go. It was a terrible idea because as soon as you weren't one hundred percent focused on peddling you started to tilt. 

“Shit! Y/n!” Bakugo threw himself between you and the pavement just in time to catch you. “Watch it will yeah?” You landed on top of him your nose dangerously close to his.You could hear your heart pounding. You were close enough to smell his signature caramel sent and it made your mouth water. He brushed a hair out of your face. “Are you okay? You’re looking at me funny....” 

You blinked rapidly trying to wake yourself up from whatever daydream you were starting to have. “Yeah I’m fine... thanks.” 

He shrugged, “It was my fault for letting go. I won't do that again.” 

Your heart picked up the pace at his words. He obviously meant he wouldn't let go while you were riding the bike, but you desperately wished he meant something else. But he was Ground Zero. He was an attractive, successful Pro hero. You were probably nothing more than a wounded animal to him. He deserved someone with less baggage. 

You pushed yourself off of him, no longer in the mood to ride a bike. “I know this is silly... but I kind of want to go get coffee.” His caramel sent was still invading your senses and it made you crave your favorite beverage. You had tried different drinks through trail and error before you found what you liked and you named it the cinnamon roll latte. It was a vanilla latte with two pumps of caramel and cinnamon instead of sugar. It smelled just like someone you knew and it was absolutely delicious. 

Kirishima walked over and helped you two get up and picked up the bike, “Coffee sounds good. I have an overnight shift coming up tonight and I’m already dreading it.”

Bakugo dusted off his pants and nodded, “Yeah coffee sounds nice. Same place as usual?” 

You smiled, “Of course!” 

You guys had been back to the same coffee house over and over again and the bitchy barista always had something to say but you kept insisting to Bakugo it wasnt worth getting her in trouble.  

You practically skipped through the door into the coffee house and right up to the empty counter. The barista gave you a bored look, “Let me guess, the usual?”

You nodded, “Yup! Him as well. He wants to try it!” You pointed at Bakugo behind you who was already taking out his wallet to pay. You needed to try and find a job soon. You couldn't mooch off of him forever. You saw a sign next to the register that said they were hiring. You knew if you brought it up Bakugo would insist it wasn't necessary, so you would just come back tomorrow when he went to work. You refused to be a burden on anyone. 

The barista who's name you had found out was Tasha rolled her eyes, “I see you finally found some clothes of your own. 

Bakugo put his arm around your shoulders, “Actually the shirts mine but it looks way better on her doesn't it?” He winked at you before retiring his attention to Tasha who’s mouth was hanging open. Bakugo narrowed his eyes at her, “I said doesn't it?” 

She handed back his credit card with a quick nod, “Yes. I’m sorry it looks great on you.” 

When you had found a booth to sit at you turned to him and slapped his shoulder, “Bakugo you have got to stop bullying the barista!” 

His eyes about popped out of their sockets, “Are you kidding me?! She's the one who always has to say some shit about you every other time we come here!” 

You sighed, “So? Let her be the source of her own misery. You dont need to stoop to her level. You’re better than that.” 

He huffed and fiddled with the napkin dispenser on the table, “Yeah whatever you say....” 

Kirishima looked back and forth between the two of you, “What..... the actual fuck? She just scolded you and you’re.... you’re okay with it?” 

Bakugo shrugged, “She’s right... there’s no point in bickering with people who aren't worth it.” 

You smiled as you leaned up and kissed his cheek. It was a bold move, but it was something you had wanted to do for a while now. 

He gave you an incredulous look and narrowed his eyes, “What the fuck was that for.” 

Tasha cleared her throat behind him, “Here’s the coffees you guys ordered. Have a great day.” 

Bakugo waited for her to be out of earshot before he belted out a laugh, “Oi! Here you are acting all high and mighty talking about being the bigger person and then you go and try to make the barista jealous? You're sneaky.” 

He took a sip of his coffee while you just giggled. He didnt need to know that you had no idea Tasha had been standing there. He didnt need to know that you had kissed his cheek because you wanted to. You looked up and mer Kirishima’s eyes. He smirked at you, “Well aren't you two just adorable?” 

********************

Taglist : @carolinawindsay​ @fukyouthink​ @targaryens-blog​

[naturaldisasterfanfiction]

35.

Moving onto my side stretching my body out “I’m gonna go to the toilet, I’ll be back” Chris said, nodding my head smiling at my daughter laying in the bed with me, she’s awake, she is content, she is happy “morning” pressing a kiss to her cheek and then resting my head back on the pillow, my whole heart. Placing my finger in her hand as she proceeded to just be in her zone and look around her, she’s just a happy baby and I’m a happy mommy. I think Fenty is so laid back with everything, we did have an episode for a few days where she was uncomfortable, but we worked it out that it was gas, the midwife helped with that, but she is ok now. My whole heart just here next to me, Chris and I have our trainer coming over today, he comes twice a week, so I woke up early. I have a lot of work to get through too, I need to chase up these gag orders that I have put through because of Chris. I have kept a low profile since the whole release of marriage thing, my dad signed the paperwork, the next time I speak to him it will be face to face, I will then have it out with him but right now I want to just enjoy my time with my daughter and husband, I am not expecting things to be so perfect, I expect bumps, if that didn’t happen I would be scared but business doesn’t stop, I have been trying to get back into the vibe of working on my business while home. Also preparing to go to California, Chris and I spoke. He was truthful and he said it to me, he wants to go back and how long can I hide away from that place but also he said he wants to deal with all that before my birthday, I don’t mind that. I told my team that we are moving together, we have to all go California together. Chris’ studio is getting done, which I am happy about. Chris seems more content, like he doesn’t let people get to him, removing Instagram from Chris is the best, he thinks of himself and that is what I want.

Chris jumped on the bed “hey! Watch it” I frowned at Chris “it’s ok, she good. My little gummy bear and gummy drop, bear and drop” he pointed between Fenty and I “you’re so annoying, so you think Fenty got my eyes?” I want him to admit to it, he keeps on saying a light shade of brown “it’s honestly a light shade of brown” he said, he is so deadass about it too “I hate you, not going to lie” side eyeing him “what we doing today Chris? You didn’t do it yesterday? You promised Fenty Skin video, it’s been about two weeks. If you are being involved in the Fenty family you need to pull your weight, so today Chris you do the little tutorial ok? I will watch you if you want. And then you need to design those boxers today. Then we can process that, we also got to prepare Amazon for the documentary, so going California will be good for us” Chris saluted me, I have lists for him because he needs to be busy “yeah, I think so too. I am excited to go back but I will do what you say boss” he knows who the boss is in this home “you’re stupid” Chris moved up from the bed and reached over his phone as it rang out.

I do hate that bitch so much and I wish she never had his number or that she never had his child but here we are, Chris is looking confused “rewind that back Amikka, what!?” he spat, Chris proceeded to put his phone on speaker “hear this” he said to me, I guess now I got to listen to that bitch speaking “say that again, Aeko is what!” Chris spat, Fenty jumped at Chris shouting “my daughter” I said to Chris “Aeko will be landing in London in an hour, he’s with my friend that was going over there. You have, well she has taken away income from me and you refuse to pay me anything” is she being real “Amikka, this is money! You are telling me my son is on a plane here!?” Chris said, she has got to be kidding me “to see his father yes, and until you can actually pay me to look after him” my mouth hung open, I am at a loss for words right now and so is Chris “Amikka, listen to me. I know we say a lot of shit out of anger, and we feel a certain way at the moment, we can sort the money out once we go to court. I am not paying for your lifestyle. I got you a home Amikka, I make sure the boy has everything he needs, you need to go to court. You are denying him of what he needs because you refuse to go and now you saying this? Stop trying to make it into a big thing” that woman is a whole bitch “Chris, I am being so serious right now, he will be landing, and you better be there to pick him up. That bitch says she wants to be the mother, then do it. I am sure you will be bringing him back over soon, and come up with a new deal of where you actually pay for the son you bought into the world. And you want proof how about you look at your messages, dickhead” Amikka disconnected the call and I am just here in shock.

Chris looked at his messages “oh fuck” Chris said, reaching up and grabbing his phone “she is dead ass! Oh my god, she has sent her son here!?” I spat, my eyes bulged out, I am not ready for this, oh my god. Pressing play on the video “be good for auntie, I love you Aeko” seeing that little boy with his backpack in the airport walking with this lady “Chris” looking at him “she ain’t lying” backing out of the message “she sent the landing time, that is literally in an hour, she wrote here. You want to take care of him then do it, time for you to play daddy. I can’t fully look after him with the lack of money” she is a liar, she is trying to look like she hard done by when it’s a lie “this can’t be happening Chris, literally this can’t” I am speechless, just when things are quiet “you barely know the boy, Chris. What the fuck!? She is just trying to be funny, that is reckless” he is just as lost as me right now, but he can’t turn a child away “what do I do!?” Chris looked at me for answers, I don’t have them and I want to say to him, this is your problem but I can’t bring myself to say it because he’s just clueless “right” getting up out of the bed “just get ready, and quick” I need to go down, I need to gather myself right now.

“Morning” Tina said “gang, meeting in the living room please” holding Fenty close to me as I made my way into the living room “Mel, I feel like I have jinxed myself, we was speaking of such things and they are coming into existence, I am freaking out” Mel shot up on the couch staring “sos?” she said, nodding my head “morning everyone” Jah looks like he has just woke up “right so, just when I thought Amikka was a thing of the past, guess what?” I have to laugh, if I don’t laugh I will literally cry instead “so she told Chris that Aeko is on the plane coming here, she can’t look after him with no money because I cut it off, so she shipped him off here and said be a father. She won’t have him back until we pay for her to be a bum, like are you fucking serious. I am panicking, I can’t have that boy here. We cursed ourselves, quick. Help me out here” I said out of breath, Tina’ mouth hung open “you’re joking!?” Jen spat, shaking my head “it’s the truth, I am literally shaking in shock, she’s dumped her son on him, Chris barely functions, and he doesn’t have a bond with his son like that, what do I do? Come on” I know it’s a lot, but they need to help me, I need someone to tell me what to do because I am not ready for this.

Jen is distraught, with the look on her face but I feel the same way “give into her” Jen said “no, if you do that then it proves that you will back down, right. This is a mess, but she is creating drama, I mean collectively we can all look after a little white boy?” Jah said “be nice” I added “see you care, uhm. Jah is right, all I am thinking is how is that child is feeling right now knowing his mom has shipped him here like some possession without a care, he doesn’t know you and he knows Chris, but he barely does know him, I am thinking of the child now. We are adults, and we need to stop treating him so unwanted, we use this as an opportunity to know him” Mel is talking sense “but I didn’t want him right now, I am not ready for that” I admitted “you married a man with kids, she is a bitch. We need to handle this right before it gets out that she shipped him off to here. I am unsure on what to do” I breathed “fuck” hearing the buzzer go off “can someone check that, we need to take her court. I am not taking that boy on, I am not. I just say it out of anger as we do. I was angry at that moment and I said it but I did not mean it” I am worried now “we get it, but I think we need to think like adults. Clearly she is not, she is doing because of what you are telling her. She wants you to break and say here have this, be quiet. At the end of the day Chris is the father and he needs to deal with it” Mel said “I am, I am taking him back” Chris rushed into the living room “just like that?” Mel questioned “yes, Germany is not far. I will get the jet and take him back, just smooth it over. He can’t be here, I didn’t ask for him to be here” Fenty whined out in my arms, looking down at my daughter she wants feeding clearly and it kind of hurt me to know a mother is doing that to her child, no matter who it is, a child is a child “stop” I said “just everyone stop, right. Stop saying those words, this is unfair, no child asks for anything. Chris, you go now because of London traffic. You get him, bring him here. That is all I want from you and your mouth” I said to him and I meant it, he talks like a child and I don’t want that “Robbie” my ears perked up hearing my mother’ voice, stepping forward a little to see my mom “mommy” my voice broke.

Hugging my mother close after giving Mel Fenty to hold “I am so sorry baby, I am sorry” that was it, my emotions came rushing back, to see my mother after all this and she came. I wasn’t expecting her to come here for me “stop it, don’t cry. I came for you, I am hurting for you. Ronald is bad news, he knows” my mom rubbed my back “thank you for coming” closing my eyes while my mom held me in her arms, I just want to keep this moment for life, I just needed her so much and I always do. Closing my eyes as I let the tears leave my eyes “I knew you was hurting, I felt it baby. I was unsure of coming but I came, I didn’t want to tell you because you would tell me not too but I am sorry, I feel awful that I had to choose such a terrible father for you” now I am just in the moment of crying, I can’t stop at all “you’re making me cry now” my mom said, I sobbed out. I am so hurt by my dad that I want to forget it but I can’t, he really did that to me “I swear, I would hit that man. I saw it all, I contacted Mel and I said I want to see it, hurt my heart so much Robyn, my grandbaby” I wish I could forget that moment, he really fucked me over.

Taking in a deep breath “why are you still here? Chris, you need to go. Don’t leave that child stranded, go” placing my hands on my hips “you’re crying, you’re upset, and I don’t like that” shaking my head “just go, and I mean it. You come back here, just go” I need to figure out my next move, this is such a mess “mom, can you come with me” walking off “Mel, I will be back. Entertain her, Chris. Seriously, go! London traffic is never good” if I come back and he is still stood here there will be problems, he is being stupid. Walking off to the kitchen, I just want to talk to my mother, well she can tell me what I am doing wrong and where I am going wrong “oh god, mom. It’s a mess, so uhm. We are going to Cali in a few days, that is not the issue but oh god” I breathed “the bitch baby mother, the other one. The Am something, the one with the son. She fucking called Chris right. So I stopped Chris from paying out money to her like fucking shut up money because why should we, that is my money now too. We are going court of course; I mean eventually we are going court. So she called and said that her son is coming here, on a flight with a friend of hers. She can’t afford to keep him, so this child is on a flight with a friend coming!? I am like what the fuck, the whole thing is mom. Chris doesn’t even know that child, she is claiming she can’t look after him, but she is doing it to get at us, I am in shock mom. I don’t know what to do or even say mom. Chris said he will take him back and talk to her but like, I don’t know. I am just in shock” I am just in shock; I am just saying words and can’t think straight.

My mom just stared at me all wide eyed, I mean she is looking at me like that but wonder how I feel right now “so many emotions going on, doesn’t the lady have money?” I shrugged “I suppose, I think she may be trying it with us. I think she wants Chris to kick off, she is up to something. I am just fucking shaking, like what do I do mom. I am going to have this boy in this home, I don’t know him, Chris doesn’t. Like what do we do?” my mom nodded her head “this is what I was worried about Robyn, the kids. He has kids here and there, it’s stressful for you. It’s hard but how long for?” my mom asked a question I don’t know the answer too “not sure, I suppose a while?” I can imagine it “you could ask Chris to stay in a hotel with him if you don’t want the child in this home or you can be the loving daughter I raised. He is a child, an incredibly young one at that and I am disgusted at how the mother is acting. I think you will be ok, but you have the choice of telling Chris to stay elsewhere but that won’t help your marriage” shaking my marriage “we do this together mom, I just need to come up with a big fuck you plan, wait. Chris!?” I shouted; I know he is here still. Storming off “Chris!” I shouted again “Dennis, get your camera!” he can add to this shit, he can show that Chris is a great guy, but the issue is that bitch. I will expose that little bitch for what she is, but I also hope it don’t’ backfire.