#i have spoke enough to fill up an entire month

[k-atsukibakugou]

[prologue] — after another date ruined by your needy roommate, fifteenth to be exact, you hatch a revenge plot that'll either end with you moving out or finally scratching the itch that's been driving you insane.

w/c: 1.2k warning/s: f!reader, making out notes: i am having so much fun imagining annoying this man to death — don't expect serious storytelling here lmao inspo/acknowledgements: loosely inspired by how to lose a guy in 10 days + what's your number (rom-com/chick flick vibes)

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

fourteen. that's how many times your roommate had called you mid-date, mid hookup, god, even mid-masturbation in the time you'd been living under the same roof.

"what could you possibly want?" you hope he can't hear your panting, hope he doesn't hear your dates chuckle, hardly muffled by your hand pressed over his mouth, your other tucking the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, reaching between your thighs for your dates belt with your now-free hand.

"is that any way to speak to a friend in need?" you roll your eyes, his voice thick over the phone as he lazily spoke, you could practically hear that infuriating smile he always had plastered on his lips through the technology. your hips jump, the deep sound zapping through your nerves; already pent up from kissing after… you can't even remember how many months without a date ending like this.

breathless, you respond in a tone you hope has at least a little venom threaded through it, more than a little irritation, "spit it out, aiku."

"need your key, i locked mine inside." your body slacks on top of the brunet beneath you, defeat filling you, your head falling forward with a silent groan, "you're kidding, right?"

fifteen.

he chuckles at your despair, a deep sound that echoes down the line, sounding just as unapologetic as he truly is, "sorry, pretty, you'll be good, won't you?"

tonight might be the night you kill him.

you'd had roommates before, accustomed to the arguments about chores, about mess, about bills, about noise, meeting eye-to-eye with oliver on every issue. the only problem with your apparent heaven-sent roommate? his habit of interrupting your dates, of cock-blocking you, leaving you at some level of unsatisfied the entire time you shared the apartment — some weeks it was bearable, more like a dull ache in your stomach, others having you about to claw and scratch at the walls.

"call me? we can do this again some other time?" leaning over the threshold, you press a final, sultry kiss to the brunet's lips, sliding a slip of paper with your number in it into his pocket as you did; your hope at a rain check diminishing the moment you step back, your date already tucking his belt back into its loops, thick fingers that were just gripping your thighs already tapping at his phone screen, the familiar pink and white flame symbol beneath his thumb.

you watched number fifteen slip through your fingers, probably the most attractive of all the men aiku had ripped away from you.

the final man, you decide.

you're almost certain your passenger rating had suffered dearly from all of your frustrated, angry mumbling as you sent hushed rant after hushed rant to your friends about how absurd your roommate is on your way back to the shared apartment (omitting some of the details about your intense need after making out for twenty minutes, mostly for the sake of your driver), most of them responding with meaningless gushing about how he at least was kind enough to give you free shows, the muscular expanse of his back something burned into all their minds after aiku crashed your pre-gaming session once after returning home from a game. one of them (uselessly) advising you to just bed aiku instead.

by the time the car had turned the final corner to your place, you'd stewed in your anger for too long, tossing your keys at oliver a little too hard when you face him, just after nine. he catches them (only infuriating you more, sure a vein is about to burst). he looks good, still in his clothes from the gym if you had to guess, a black shirt that clung to his biceps, and shorts that made his thighs more like tree limbs than human ones (only infuriating you more). he quirks a dark eyebrow at you, twirling the keys around his finger before sliding them into the lock.

"do you plan this?" trailing in behind him, dragging your feet as you do, you tug your keys back out of the door, too annoyed, too frustrated to even care about your roommate lifting the tight shirt over his head, gripping the collar at the back of his neck to pull it off, shoulder blades flexing and rippling with every movement, no matter how minute.

"plan what?" oliver shouts from his bedroom, keeping the door ajar, awaiting your answer as he changes.

"do you know how many men you've scared off?" you throw yourself down onto the couch dramatically, "have you bugged my phone or something? hack it so you can call me the moment i’m with a guy?" 

oliver's face splits into a grin, his expression only described as proud, mismatched eyes glimmering as he tightened the watch on his wrist, "hack you?" 

reaching for a decorative cushion, one you’d bought months ago to make the flat less of a bachelor pad, you bury your face in it, half to muffle your loud groan, half to avoid looking at him, now in slacks and a shirt you’re sure is a size too small, following every sharp plane of his shoulders, chest and hips, the top three buttons left undone to show off the tanned muscles beneath that he spent hours working on. the maddening sound of his laugh still invaded your senses, despite the stuffing around your ears.

it's like it was a talent, to sense when he was unwanted, when you were inches away from sating your craving, when all you wanted to forget all about his stupid face, his stupid deep voice, his stupid smug laugh. 

"maybe you have a sixth sense, like that kid who sees ghosts." 

"i think of it more as happy accidents." oliver dodges the cushion, his hand coming up to fix his hair as the other tosses the cushion back towards you, landing square on your chest as you groan childishly again at him. 

stupid face, stupid voice, stupid laugh, stupid reflexes. 

you track him as he moves around the apartment, eyebrows drawn down in a fiery glare as he tosses his shed clothes into the washing machine. the apartments tidy, you note, catching a glimpse of his spotless bedroom from the corner of your eye, his bed sheets crisp and pulled tightly over the mattress, pillows fluffed, every inch vacuumed and dusted.

the oliver you knew was never this clean, he pulled his weight but it’s not as if your apartment looked this brand new often. the oliver that had left no less than four sweaty shirts in the back of your car when he'd change after begging you to pick him up from training on your way home from work, the same oliver that had a varied collection of abandoned water bottles typically adorning his bedside table. this was different than tidy, there wasn't asign of mess anywhere in the apartment, counters freshly cleaned in the kitchen, still sparkling beneath the kitchen lights, not even a speck of dust along the top of the tv screen. 

it was immature, completely, utterly foolish, there's no other word for your decision, but it's impossible to talk yourself out of it as you study him, returning from the immaculate bedroom smelling musky, woody, expensive.

a happy accident he called it? your celibacy while he dates and fucks anyone he wants? while you suffer week after week with your ache growing stronger, your toys hardly working for you any more.

you refuse to see that arrogant, satisfied smile plastered on his face again.

“got a hot date tonight, aiku?”

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[beautiful-detective]

I wonder if there's any story where the MALE character goes crazy/insane and evil because they can't have children or their children were basically illusions the whole time(Like it was in the case of Wanda/Scarlet Witch). I can't think of a single one but perhaps I just haven't read that many stories

[luffington]

cream-filled ♡

➤ summary: Your devoted husband really wants to have a baby with you, so he figures out a solution to your size difference. (18+)

➤ pairing: charlotte katakuri x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.2k

➤ warnings: extreme size kink, breeding kink, belly bulge, age difference (reader is mid-20s), cumplay, titjob, creative use of mochi, established relationship, fluff, 'wife' for reader

➤ notes: katakuri’s height is biblically accurate and i did very questionable math to figure out his dick size.... this is literally so nasty but silly donut man is definitely a freak <3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Months after your wedding, your husband marched into your shared bedroom, arms crossed and face buried in his scarf, and stated, “Mama wants us to have a baby.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. If Big Mom really wanted little Katakuris running around, she should’ve considered your physical incompatibility before arranging your marriage. He was practically double your age and triple your height. Plus, the Emperor typically prioritized babies from her weaker children – Oven, Daifuku, and Perospero all remained childless, and her second son’s bounty spoke for itself. She occasionally made lighthearted comments to you about wanting a grandchild, but it sounded more like a fantasy than a demand.

As a thick silence settled between you, Katakuri became increasingly flustered. A lightbulb went off in your head and a knowing smile spread across your face. The tips of his ears turned red as he finally admitted, “Okay, I want a baby.”

Oh, he was precious. “And I would love to have one with you, honey, but I don’t know how. Your dick just can’t fit.”

Everything about Katakuri was enormous, and his cock was no exception. At full hardness, it measured at least eighteen inches – nearly the size of your entire torso. He understandably had a hard time finding sexual partners previously, and poor Katakuri was almost more nervous about showing you his dick than his fangs. Lucky for him, you didn’t scare easily.

As an average-sized human, your body was certainly too small to take it, but your sex life was absolutely thriving. Your husband worshiped every inch of you, and eating your pussy as ferociously as Mama during a hunger pang became as routine as his meriendas. And anything you could do with his cock turned him on – your dedication to pleasing him was enough to make him lightheaded. 

He’d even started training you to take his gigantic length. Katakuri replicated his dick into a mochi dildo with a donut-shaped base, then fucked you slow and deep to let you adjust to its size. The dildos got bigger and bigger, and you had already made some progress in loosening your hole. Neither of you cared if nothing ever came of it – it was intimate, fun, and incredibly sexy. 

“I came up with a solution,” Katakuri muttered shyly. “I… I think you’ll like it.”

“So mysterious,” you giggled, though you expected nothing less from him. Shifting your position to emphasize your skimpy lounge outfit as you spread your legs enticingly. “Alright, get in here.”

Your husband crossed the room with two thundering footsteps, draped his feathery scarf over a chair, then carefully removed his spurred boots. Two intimidating accessories stripped away barely affected his menacing appearance, but to you, it revealed the gentle giant underneath. Katakuri’s knees sunk into the huge mattress yet he still towered over you, a mix of adoration and hunger burning in his dark eyes. 

He easily flipped your positions so you rested on top of his bare chest. Always overly careful with your small frame and wanting to eliminate the risk of harming you, which usually resulted in him underneath you. The man who supposedly never lied on his back cared more about your safety than his outward image of perfection. He adored his pretty wife, his tiny wife. Blood rushed to his dick when he noticed that your toes barely reached his hips in this position.

You cupped his jaw and kissed him passionately, running your fingers through his cropped hair. The taste of sugary strawberry frosting overwhelmed your tastebuds as his broad tongue penetrated your mouth, though he was cautious about keeping his teeth away from your delicate skin. Sensing his hesitation, you broke the kiss to lick along one of his protruding fangs seductively.

“Such a gorgeous little thing,” he murmured reverently before pressing his lips against yours again. “How did I end up with someone as perfect as you?”

“Mama has good taste,” you shrugged with a grin. Katakuri undid his skull-shaped belt buckle and slid out of his tight leather pants, not missing the way you subtly rolled your pelvis against his solid abs. He was incredibly disciplined but he adored your impatience – everything about you was so fucking cute. 

“Jerk me off,” he grumbled against your lips. Straightforward as always, but never intentionally harsh or commanding with you. Katakuri lovingly rubbed the top of your head with his huge hand then brought it down on your ass with a light smack. 

You squealed and gave him one final peck on the lips before stripping, carelessly throwing your clothes onto the floor. Dark eyes admired your naked form as you crawled down his body, playfully tracing the vertical lines of his tattoo, then slid down the elastic waistband of his donut-print underwear. Even at half-hardness, his cock was big enough to split you in two. You straddled his hips and settled your bare core atop his heavy balls.

Katakuri licked his lips at the lewd sight of you wrapping your tiny hands around his dick – your fingertips couldn’t even touch. Spitting on the mushroom head as a meaningless attempt at lubrication, you firmly stroked your palms up and down his massive length. He willed his hips to stay still and let you set the pace, though it was relatively hard to control his animalistic instincts in bed with you. Your tongue darted out to kitten-lick his slit, fingers trailing along his cock’s more prominent veins. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, get me nice and hard. Show me how much you want my cum deep in your womb.” His words went straight to your cunt, and you relieved the ache by grinding down on his testicles. Katakuri cursed under his breath and watched you open your jaw as wide as possible to suckle on the head of his dick. His salty precum had a slight mochi aftertaste – the sticky substance permeated every bit of his body, and the flavor was strangely addicting. 

You noticed your husband eyeing your breasts, their softness squished against his cock and hard nipples massaging the sensitive skin. Even more blood rushed south when he pictured them swollen with delicious milk. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist sucking them dry as an additional afternoon snack. With a mischievous smirk, you situated his giant length between your tits and pressed them together for good measure. Katakuri’s cock jerked against you, smearing a hefty load of precum on your cheek.

“You like it when I give you a titjob, huh? Do my boobs feel good wrapped around your dick?” He nodded as if he was in a trance. “Dirty old man,” you chuckled, turning his cheeks an adorable shade of red.

Katakuri never admitted this to you, but he sometimes imagined using you as his own little toy. The most fucked up version of it involved using you as a fleshlight, your body stretching like dough around him as he speared his dick inside your tiny cunt. Seeing how deep it could go, then lifting you up his length and trying again. 

However, that was obviously unrealistic, so he usually imagined you exactly as you were now. Warm skin flush against him, dick nestled between your arms and tits as he used your body to jerk himself off. Maybe that did make him a dirty old pervert, but he had a feeling you’d be willing to try it. 

That dirty fantasy, paired with your debauched expression and your hot cunt moving against his balls, almost pushed him into dangerous territory. But no, he needed to save his cum for something much more important. Katakuri grabbed your thighs and flipped your positions again, hovering over you with lust-blown eyes. 

He growled at the sight of your drenched pussy. “This all for me?” His thick thumb parted your folds to collect your slick, then he stuck the digit in his mouth and slurped happily. “Mmm, so sweet, I could get addicted to this.” As if he wasn’t already. “Can I have more?”

You giggled. “You can have whatever you want, Kata. No need to be so nervous.”

“Don’t wanna break you,” he mumbled breathlessly but didn’t give you a chance to respond. He dove between your legs, his impressive tongue easily splitting your cunt apart and making your eyes roll back into your skull. 

“K-Kata… holy fuck.” Your thighs shook around his head as your brain quickly dissolved into mush. “Harder, ahh, please…” 

Your husband eagerly complied, holding your thighs wide open and prodding his wet muscle even deeper inside you. He was already drunk off your juices and your pussy continued to gush around his tongue. When he found the spot that made your back arch off the bed, he licked over it incessantly, pulling away for only a moment to lap at your neglected clit. 

A sharp fang brushed against the delicate flesh of your inner thigh and made you flinch, but you just grabbed his hair and kept him pressed against your cunt. You would gladly take even the harshest teeth marks if it meant he kept eating you out like that. 

Katakuri restrained himself from going any further when he noticed the telltale signs of your orgasm. “Ready?” He asked, his chin completely soaked in your juices. You nodded eagerly despite not knowing what you were consenting to. You trusted your sweet husband to treat you well – and you wanted a baby just as much as he did.

He sat back on his haunches, clutching your thigh in one massive hand and grabbing the base of his cock with the other. Tilting your bottom half slightly upwards until his dick was aligned with your cunt. For a terrifying yet exhilarating moment, you honestly thought he was going to push it inside. 

“Hold yourself open for me.” Oh. That was his plan. You gladly used both hands to spread your pussy lips wide, your fluttering hole completely visible and begging to be filled by him. Katakuri began roughly jerking off, pretty eyes laser-focused on your cunt as he grunted quietly. He pressed the flushed red tip of his cock against your hole, which was already straining from the tiniest bit of pressure.

“Fill me up, honey,” you whimpered with a blissed-out grin. “Prove that you want to be a father.”

Your husband came with a deep moan as if on command, emptying his balls and spraying copious amounts of thick, creamy cum across your skin. Some of it miraculously made it into your spread hole and trickled deep inside your soaked cunt. The rest overflowed onto your thighs and tummy, globs dripping down the crack of your ass and onto the sheets below. 

Without wasting a moment, Katakuri gathered up some stray cum with two fingers and plunged them into your cunt. You nearly screamed from the sudden intrusion – his digits alone were bigger than any of your past partners’ cocks, and so much better. He repeated the perverted process until nearly every drop was shoved inside your pretty pussy. But he didn’t stop there. An obscene squelching noise echoed throughout the room as he scissored around the pool of his hot semen. Your stomach was stuffed so full of cum that it bulged out into a pretty bump.

“So fucking full. Imagine what you’ll look like pregnant – fuck, I’d get to see this every day.” He practically drooled at the visible outline of his fingers thrusting in and out. Your tiny little body worked so hard to accommodate his size and you loved every second of it. “My sweet cream-filled donut, I could eat you right up.”

You wanted to laugh at his endearing ridiculousness – his adorable love of sweets even found its way into dirty talk. But all air was knocked out of your lungs when he prodded at your cervix, literally trying to shove his cum inside the miniscule opening. He lifted you off the bed by your leg even more, willing gravity to assist the semen flowing inside you.

Katakuri continued to finger-fuck you with calculated thrusts, but when his teeth sunk into your thigh – hard enough to break the skin but not enough to bleed – you finally hit your peak. You shrieked loud enough for all of Totto Land to hear, making it known that your seventeen-foot tall husband likely just fucked triplets into you. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth and you almost blacked out, but Katakuri kept you grounded in reality with gentle kisses on your cheeks and forehead, holding your hand and willing your heartbeat to slow down. 

After a few minutes and constant reassurance that you did a great job for him, Katakuri pulled his fingers out and quickly replaced them with a small plug made of mochi. Just to make sure everything stayed inside you (and because he could stare at your stomach bulge for hours).

“Do you think it’ll work?” You panted quietly, eyes fluttering shut with absolute bliss. “Use your Haki. Will I be all swollen with your baby soon?”

“I can’t see that far into the future,” Katakuri smiled, heart overflowing with love for you. “So let’s keep trying until it does.”

[bwabys-scenarios]

Illumi stares at you often, and when I mean often, 95% of the time spent with him involves him staring at you at least a little.

His big, black eyes always seem drawn to you when you’re in his vicinity, pulling you into their dark depths. You’d think it would feel cold, considering his profession or cold personality, but looking into his eyes feels strangely warm and fills you with fuzzy feelings.

The dark haired assassin had never felt the way he felt about you before. At first he hated the way you made him feel, avoiding you at all costs. But the distance made his heart hurt, which again, is something he’s never really felt before.

If he hadn’t met you, none of this would have happened. Maybe… just maybe if he just took care of you and ended your life, that would make his heart stop racing every time he spotted you.

But he could never do it. You were full of blind spots, way too trusting, and much weaker than him, but still… he could never find the chance to kill you.

No… that’s not true. Just by walking past you alone, he could count at least 14 ways he could have swiftly ended your life within seconds, but when he moved to pull out his needles… he physically couldn’t. The needles heavy in his pocket, his heart thumping against his chest so fast that it made breathing difficult.

Killing was the only way he knew how to really interact with others. Killing them, killing for them… it’s all he really knew. So when you spotted him at a party for Hunters that he only attended so he could gather information on a target and invited him to join you for a drink… he couldn’t say no.

While the two of you talked, every little thing you did was noted down by him and stored away in his brain. The way you drilled your fingernails against the table when you were trying to remember something, the way you smiled softly when he occasionally spoke up, and even the way you breathed.

When you got up to leave, you gently patted his shoulder, saying that the two of you should ‘hang out sometime’.

And that single touch was the beginning of the end.

Just that small amount of physical contact made him feel way more drunk than the drink he’d been sipping on. The warmth of your touch reminded him of the first time he tried rum. The warm, almost scorching feeling of the liquor running down his throat almost matched the intensity of that little touch.

And he wanted more.

He had never gotten as hard as he did the night after you touched him. He found himself jerking off to pictures he found of you on your social media, imagining your pussy clenching around him instead of the touch of his hand.

As the months passed, you found yourself encountering Illumi a lot more than you had in the past. Whether it be on jobs, random bump ins at the bar or while you were shopping… it’s like you saw him everywhere these days.

Illumi felt no guilt over putting a small tracking device in your bag. After all, he killed people for a living, this was nothing.

He told himself that he was just fascinated with your ability, or perhaps even your knowledge on a specific subject. But that shouldn’t have been enough for him to be carrying you home from the bar after you had a few too many, his hands holding back your hair when you needed to vomit.

Illumi had never taken care of someone before, but when he attempted to leave you to your own devices, your hand held onto his sleeve.

“Don’t go…”

This is when he realized that he didn’t want anything you could give him that he thought. Your knowledge or your abilities meant nothing to him in the moment, what mattered is that he was curled up next to you, staring at you as you slept.

Illumi could go multiple days without sleep, so he spent the entire night just staring. Here you were, with your cheek squished against his arm, your hands clutching his shirt as you slept.

Could you ever even comprehend the things he had seen and done? Did you even understand that the man you had allowed into your bed ended other’s lives for a price?

You slept so soundly, as if you were not curled up with an experienced assassin. He couldn’t help but reach out and cup your cheek, squeezing the soft flesh between two of his nimble, pale fingers. This made to whine a bit in your sleep, but it didn’t wake you.

He was just… in awe of you. Everything you did had his heart racing. Even asleep, your actions could send him into cardiac arrest if he wasn’t careful.

As he caressed you, something he had been wanting to do for a while, his mind wandered.

What would happen if someone like him was sent to kill you? You were too trusting, too kind and naive for your own good.

He couldn’t let that happen.

That thought made him pause. For the first time in his life, he wanted to protect someone instead of use them for his personal gain. You weren’t just a means to an end or a stepping stone to his success… you were you.

And he loved you.

Love… the concept was foreign to him, but if that was the word that described what he was feeling for you… maybe he could somewhat understand the cheap romance novels he had read when bored on missions.

In the morning, you were sick again. He did his best to help you. Illumi had seen plenty of nasty things, he could handle some vomit and tears.

“Thank you, Illumi…”

He glanced to you as he put on his coat to leave. You were in your pajamas still, your face still a bit warm from embarrassment. The two of you barely knew each other, yet you had roped him into taking care of you.

“It was… no trouble.”

“B-but it was! Can’t I do anything for you to make up for it?”

He stopped, pausing by the door. “… be mine.”

The heat in your face increased tenfold. “What… did you just say?”

“I said be mine.”

Illumi was in front of you in no time, his hand was cold, but firm on your waist. “I want you, (Name).”

“Um…”

You laughed nervously, flustered. “How about a date?”

“Those terms are acceptable.”

As Illumi walked towards the car that had come to pick him up, he was already planning out how he’d bring up the prospect of marriage to his family. Of course they wouldn’t stop him, but he would prefer their approval.

Illumi opened his phone, seeing that you had texted him.

(Name): how about Sunday at 7 pm?

That was in two days. Would he be able to find a ring that suited you by then? Ah… but he really wanted to see you again as soon as possible.

Illumi: Sounds great.

He could feel himself get hard with excitement. As he looked out at the scenery passing by, he wondered if you wanted one or two kids.

‘Three or more would be best… but I’ll let her decide. She’ll be the one bearing my children after all.’

Unbeknownst to you, your entire future was being laid out for you. For the better or worse.

[pipwritesoccasionally]

perfect little family

dad!nanami x mom!reader

in which your daughter visits you at work and your perfect husband comes with her!

warnings: fem!reader

higuruma mention because i love him too

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

the day started off ordinarily. you’d gone to work as you always did, even stopping by the bakery next to your daughter’s daycare to pick up a croissant. it was hot and buttery, just how you liked it, and it lessened the feeling of dread that came from working in a law firm every day. 

“good morning!” you exclaimed to the assistant at the front desk, who smiled right back. you’d been good friends since you’d started working in the firm three years prior. 

“good morning (y/n)! how was your weekend?”  

“not long enough. the kiddo decided that she didn’t want to get any sleep, so kento and i were going a little mad. luckily, she’s at daycare for the day, so i can get some peace and quiet while at work,” you recalled, feeling some of the exhaustion seep back in. 

“i know right! my twins wouldn’t sleep through the night for months at a time and i thought i would pass out right here at my desk.” 

“i can’t imagine what we would do if there were two of her. she’s so cute, but she can be a menace. if kento weren’t around to help her i think i’d just have to quit working.” you loved bringing up your wonderful husband, as he truly was the person who made everything alright in the world. 

“i’m so jealous!” one of your coworkers groaned as they walked by. “when do we get to meet this perfect husband of yours (y/n)?” 

“sorry, we’ve just been so busy lately! no one told me the terrible twos last until they turn four! i promise i’ll get him to come out sometime!” you apologize, knowing that your coworkers have been begging to meet kento ever since you began working here. you two were a more private couple, so you didn’t really have pictures of him on your desk. just some notes from him or your daughter, as well as a calendar with all of the important dates on it. 

“oh (y/n), higuruma said he left some papers on your desk to fill out before your meeting in an hour.” your friend at the front desk said, and you thanked her before heading there to fill them out. 

the stack was menacing, but you got it all done, and ran to meet with your boss and the other attorneys of your firm. you slid the door open and shuffled to sit in your seat. higuruma gave you a slight smile in acknowledgement, and you smiled back. you’d become something like friends in the few years you’d worked at the firm, so at least he was a friendly face. 

“alright, i’m here to make sure we’re all on the same page about the client we’re defending before our meeting with them on thursday.” your boss began, before making his way through the information in the documents you had been given earlier. 

he was in the middle of talking when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. you grabbed for it, meaning to shut it off, before realizing it was from your daughter’s daycare. 

“excuse me, i need to take this. it’s about my daughter. sorry!” you exclaim, rushing out the door of the meeting room and answering the call. 

“hello! is this (y/n)?” a cheerful voice on the other side spoke. 

“yes it is! is something wrong?” 

“your daughter seems to be not feeling well, and she keeps asking for you. is there any way you can come pick her up?” you frowned, remembering that she had been fine this morning. not to mention the fact that your schedule was jam packed all day, and that missing these meetings would severly affect your performance in front of the client. 

“i’m so sorry, my schedule is entirely full. however, my husband kento should be home today, is there any way you can call him?” 

“of course! we’ll call him right now,” the daycare worker says, and hangs up. you sigh, and head back into the meeting. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

hours later, you were in another meeting, this time with some new attorneys, as your boss had asked you to discuss your firm’s processes when it comes to civil or criminal trials. you were currently presenting in front of a group of ten, when a knock echoed across the room. the group went silent, and the closest attorney stood to open the door. 

as soon as the door was open a crack, someone pushed it open and ran over to you. 

“mama! mama!” a little figure ran across the room and threw herself at you, barely making it so you could catch her. she had kento’s brown eyes and (h/c) hair, making her instantly recognizable as your daughter. 

“sweetheart, what are you doing here?” you whisper at her, placing her on your hip. 

“i wanted to see you, so daddy said we could come see if you were busy! but then the lady at the front desk said you were here in a meeting, so i came to see you!” she smiled, her grin showing the spot where she’d lost her first tooth a month ago. 

“well we can’t play right now, but you’re welcome to watch me present if you can sit quietly in that chair over there.” you point at the empty chair, but she shakes her head. 

“no mama! i want you to hold me,” she pouts, and you know that you have to give in. you sigh, before standing straight and grabbing the control for your powerpoint. 

“slight change of plans. this is my assistant, (d/n), and she will be helping me present.” you tell the other attorneys, who are holding back laughter, before continuing your presentation. 

once it’s over and the other attorneys begin to pack up, you take your daughter’s hand and lead her back to the lobby, where your husband is surrounded by a group of your coworkers, including the one from earlier. 

“so, what brings you to the firm?” one woman giggles, clearly infatuated with him. 

“my wife works here,” he says, pushing his glasses up with his hand to show off his wedding band. 

“wife??? who’s your wife??” one of the other women exclaims, but at that moment your daughter chooses to run at him in a full spring. 

“DADDY!” she exclaims, “THE LAWYER PEOPLE SAID I WAS REALLY PROFESSIONAL DURING MAMA’S MEETING!” 

“were you now?” he says, placing her on his hip. “where is your mama anyways?” 

“i’m right here,” you say, and the group of women turn to face you. 

“(y/n)?? he’s YOUR husband??” the coworker from earlier says, and you nod. 

“how can you not have pictures of him on your desk?? he’s gorgeous!” she yells, and you laugh. 

“he mostly takes pictures of me and (d/n), but it’s more of just a safety thing so people don’t find out where he and (d/n) live.” you reply, smiling. you walk past them to your husband, who pulls you into his other side immediately. 

“hi darling, sorry about her,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your temple. you hear a chorus of squeals behind you, and your friend from the front desk asking them to disperse, but you pay them no mind. 

“it’s no big deal. i think the new attorneys were less stressed out because she was there.” you poke your daughter on the nose, and she giggles. 

“anyways, we should probably get going. when will you be home?” kento asks, and you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“early today, i just have one meeting left and then i’m done. so in around two hours?” you feel the vibration of his chest as he hums. you pull away and step back towards your office, still facing your little family. 

“alright (d/n), say bye to your mom,” kento says, and your daughter waves with an enthused “BYE MAMA!”

you wave back, watching them leave. nothing could compare to the feeling of your perfect little family.

[crappycamille]

a/n: gasp, i actually wrote something. be easy on me okay, i haven’t done this in a while. just some fluffy conjecture tbh, although there is one suggestive line but that’s why all my stuff is 18+, minors dni please… enjoy <3

Bakugou Katsuki had never experienced touch.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He had been touched before: punched and hit by those desperately trying to escape his pursuit, clung to by those fearing for their life, gentle yet encouraging pats on the back from friends, loving but annoying pinches of the ear from his mother. He’s even been pawed at and caressed by lust-filled women that satisfy temporary needs. And even more dangerously, he’s been fondled by the promise of love disguised as lust… But never had Bakugou been touched.

At least until you.

The first time you touched Bakugou is a memory he will never forget. He was bone tired having worked an incredibly grueling month-long mission.

Instead of going home to catch up on much-needed sleep, he immediately went to his office to get the paperwork done. Most people don’t know that a lot of things on the legal side can’t go through until his side of the paperwork is done. Bakugou constantly feels like he’s never fast enough. No matter how fast he can get to the victims. No matter how fast he catches the villain. No matter how fast he gets things done he wasn’t fast enough to prevent the victims from becoming victims in the first place. So, in his mind, the least he could do is get his paperwork done as fast as possible so that those involved can get their justice.

But, of course, the moment the mission is done—before he’s even had a chance to change out of his hero suit—he’s met with nothing but a mountain of news articles and tabloid headlines ridiculing his name. They find joy in villainizing him over the smallest of details.

Most of the time, Bakugou ignores those things. It doesn’t matter to him what others think. They can nitpick whatever they want because despite that he won. He saved the people who needed to be saved. To him, that was all that really mattered… usually.

It must have been his level of exhaustion, but he couldn’t help the way his brows furrowed in disappointment reading the headlines. The words for the public sitting heavier on his chest than normal. His emotions got to him more than normal as he walked down the hallway from his official, finally heading home.

It was late.

Far too late for anyone else to still be there. Yet, he swore he could hear the soft pitter-patter of heels clicking against the floor. As he turned the corner he was met with the sight of you packing up. You hadn’t noticed him yet, so he watched with confusion as scurried around filing documents, turning off computers, and locking doors.

“The hell? Why’re you still here?” He internally cringed as his voice boomed more than he meant it to since you nearly jumped out of your skin upon hearing him.

“Oh Dynamight, Sir! I apologize I meant to be out of here before you noticed I was here.” Exhaustion seeped through your voice, giving you more rasp than normal.

“That’s not what I asked you. The hell’re you still here for?”

“Well…” you scratched your head feeling a bit shy, debating on whether or not to tell him the real reason why you were there. “I stayed to make sure all of the paperwork you submitted just now went through. As head of your legal team, it’s my job to make sure things on the agency’s side are squared away. I understand you like to get things done immediately after a mission, Sir.”

Bakugou was speechless. So many questions riddle through his head he wanted to ask. Had you done this after every mission and he never noticed you? yes When had you noticed that he came in after missions to do paperwork? Why did you care? Instead, he watched wordlessly as you gathered your things.

“You don’t need to do that.” He finally spoke. His tone was unusually soft, nearing sweet if you squinted hard enough. You breathily chuckled. You had been working for Bakugou long enough to know that was his way of saying thank you.

“It’s really no problem, Sir. No reason you have to be the only person in the office so late, especially after working such long missions.” You softly smiled at him. With you being so close, he could see the exhaustion prominent in your own face.

The two of you worked your way out of the building together in silence. Bakugou felt that he had so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to ask, but they all muddled to the back of his mind.

It was only when you guys reached the front lobby exit that he became aware of the incessant buzzing of his phone. Countless mentions, tags, reposts, and message requests were flooding in from every social media app. He could’ve sworn he turned his notifications off a long time ago, but there they were. Those same articles that called him a corrupt hero, a heinous/reckless man, and nitpicked things down to the way he breathed were being sent to him over and over again. A constant reminder that so many people disapprove of him.

He hadn’t noticed how tightly he had been gripping his phone. How clenched his bicep was until he felt a gentle squeeze on his arm. Your hand was small in comparison to his but its presence was overwhelming.

Your thumb subtly rubbed soothing circles on his clenched bicep. “If it’s worth anything, I think you’re incredibly kindhearted. The world is lucky to have a hero like you protecting it. Goodnight, Sir. Get some rest.”

Bakugou thought he was going to melt the second you pulled your hand away. Your words rang loud in his ears, but his skin buzzed even louder at the lingering effects of your touch. He had to stop himself from sobbing in the lobby that night.

There was something oh so special about your touch.

From the first time you ever touched him to the way, you touch him now as his wife. He swears he has to stop himself from sobbing every time. It’s the overwhelming love that pours out of you every time your skin connects with his.

He was so incredibly touch-starved before you came along. Starved from the kind of touch that doesn’t come from platonic relationships. Starved from the touch of someone that didn’t expect to gain something from him in return. Starved from the intimate touch of true love.

He revels in every little touch you grace him with. The way you hold his hand under the dinner table. The way you pinch him lovingly, reminding him of his mother, when he says something out of pocket.The way you squeeze his thigh and rub soothing circles on him when tensions get high in a meeting. The way you nestle your face in his back as he cooks. The way you lightly slap his shoulder as you laugh hysterically. The way you drag your hands along his sides as he lays on you. The way you claw at him desperate to somehow bring him impossibly closer as he thrusts into you.

In all honesty, he still has a hard time fathoming that you are his. That you are in love with him. That you choose to be with him every day. He feels undeserving, but you always definitively object. He believes that you are so much more than anything he could ever be, but that’s exactly how you feel about him.

Your touch is just one of the things he obsesses over you. Because he is just so incredibly in love with you.

[folkloresthings]

BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY / CL16.

in which the world’s favourite pop princess becomes tangled in the life of a certain formula one driver, flipping her entire world upside down.

( charles leclerc x singer!au )

track one: lonesome. track two: fast times. track three: nonsense. track four: opposite. track five: how many things. track six: bad for business.

✩⡱ warnings: nope

INSTAGRAM.

liked by fernandoalo_official, scuderiaferrari, and 720,553 others

charles_leclerc starting P3 in abu dhabi for the final race of the season! fingers crossed for a good result

view all 267,394 comments

carlossainz55 a good result in the race or somewhere else

⤷ charles_leclerc shut it

user 2022 season almost over :(

landonorris bring it on 😏😏😏

scuderiaferrari let’s race!!

INSTAGRAM.

liked by charles_leclerc, badgirlriri, and 943,600 others

yourusername MY NEW ALBUM “emails i can’t send” OUT AUGUST 14. this year has been a whirlwind of emotions but it’s given me a lot of very dear songs. thank you for your patience 💌

view all 510,305 comments

user NEW MUSIC ALERT

gracieabrams squealing with excitement

arianagrande SO excited 🤍

user a whole album inspired by austin AND charles???? yes please

landonorris preordered and presaved can you send me a signed copy

taylorswift EEK!

it was finally here. the weekend of the final grand prix in abu dhabi, the end of another season of racing. you’d had your flight booked for weeks, but you hadn’t decided what you were going to do with it. all of your contemplating had made you late to the airport, having to rush through the terminal just in time to make the flight. and even then, thousands of miles in the air, you kept wanting to turn back.

you wanted charles, that much you knew. but you didn’t want to get hurt again, you were sure your heart was running out of bandaids.

no one knew you were here, besides lewis. he had helped you sneak in and out of the hotel, and into the paddock, without being caught. you didn’t want to let anyone know you were here, considering you might still change your mind at the last second.

but then it was sunday, before you knew it, and you were donning a red ferrari cap as you waited the race prep out in lewis’ driver’s room. every so often, you got the sudden urge to get up and run away, far far away. your heart was racing — maybe charles had changed his mind since you last spoke. three months was a long time, long enough to find someone else.

the race began and you watched it intently on the screens, biting at your fingernails every time charles rounded another corner. come the final lap, your feet were carrying you out to the paddock, away from the mercedes hut and towards ferrari. the crowd erupted nearby, charles crossing the finish line in P2. your heart swelled with a thrill, happiness for him filling you. a podium on the last race, something he’d spoken of time and time again.

you squeezed yourself through the celebrating ferrari employees, right to the front of the fence, watching as charles’ car pulled into it’s space after the cool down lap. you pulled the hat off, hoping your hair on show would catch his attention better. his fist pumped as he clambered out of the car, pulling off of his helmet and beaming at the crowds.

by instinct he moved to run towards the group all in red, the usual celebrations waiting to follow. but the monegasque driver stopped, his eyes stuck in the middle of the group. on you. you had come — you had actually come. charles could have pinched himself, sure he could never have gotten so lucky.

you felt your mouth run dry, unable to read his expression from where he was standing. everyone around you carried on celebrating, but the two of you were frozen. you smiled a little, shoulder shrugging with a slight chuckle. and when he smiled back at you, you knew.

you knew this was where you were meant to be.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by danielricciardo, nicohulkenberg, and 762,401 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc possibly the best race of my life, i won the greatest prize of all ❤️❤️❤️ oh and i got P2

view all 511,024 comments

user SCREAMING

landonorris i cried seeing that on the screen after the race

carlossainz55 they grow up so fast 🥲

user i never thought i’d live to see this day

scuderiaferrari OUR FAVS!!!!!!

yourusername my one and only ❤️‍🔥

⤷ yourusername pls ignore all the times i curse u out in the new album thanks 👍

writers note: i was THIS 🤏 close to her not getting on the plane

[shy-taylorsversion]

The Courting Season

Pairing - Colin Bridgerton x Reader

Requested by anonymous

Word Count 1.4k

Warnings - none ◡̈

A/N - I’m absolutely horrible about writing consistently so this took forever to post but here it is!! in honor of part 1 of season 3 ◡̈ enjoy!!

Candlelight coated the room in a dreamy glow. Skirts swayed amongst the dancefloor as young women made their best attempts at gaining a suitor and securing a comfortable future.

Over a month into her debut season, her dance card remained blank and her days empty. She hadn’t one visitor, much less a definite suitor since the day she was presented to the queen. Eloise was frustrated by her disappointment, not understanding why it mattered so much. The lack of interest in the girls left them with the time to continue their daily endeavors. Mainly, reading and speaking of the unfair challenges thrust upon them in their society.

Y/n enjoyed their days together but with pressure from her mother to find a match soon and the prying eyes of the ton, she couldn’t suppress the feeling that she was doing something wrong. The lords seemed to flee from her, never more than a polite smile or nod during their daily promenade.

So for the umpteenth time, she found herself residing in the corner of the room, a glass of lemonade in hand. She would have opted for champagne but her mother insisted that it was not ladylike for an unmarried woman to drink. She rolled her eyes at the thought and sipped her drink, swallowing quickly when a figure approached her.

Colin Bridgerton was the one constant in her life as of this season. He seemed to be there at every turn, ready to relieve her of the dreadful outings and painful looks given at seeing her alone.

He was the one exception to her blank dance card. Though it was deemed improper for a man to dance with a woman more than twice before officially courting, Colin didn’t seem to care. They were probably causing a scandal but she couldn’t be bothered to mention it. She enjoyed their dances and conversations. When they were together, the stressors of the ton seemed to evaporate and for that she was grateful. Even if that's all it was.

“Hello, Miss Y/n,” Colin said, stopping in front of her. He extended one of the glasses he held. “It seems like you could use one of these.” She tilted her head, confused since she was already having a glass but he didn’t pull back. She sat her old glass down on a passing tray and took the offered. Not wanting to be impolite, she took a sip. Bubbles hit her tongue instead of the expected citrus causing her to gasp. He’d handed her champagne.

“Momma said I could not.” She tried to give it back discreetly so as to not cause scandal but he shook his head.

“No one can tell.” He shook his head and shuffled slightly closer to her, “With the way you were eyeing the glasses, you should enjoy some.”

She looked around the room, only to see no one paying them any mind. She relaxed a bit and took another sip, sighing with contentment. There was really only so much lemonade a lady could drink.

“Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton.” She grinned up at him. She could never look at him for too long or the blood rushed to her cheeks and she began fumbling over her words. Her eyes flitted away but back to him as he spoke.

“I believe I have asked you to drop the formalities.” He raised an eyebrow at her which caused her to look away again. She smiled at his teasing. “Now, finish up quickly because I believe you have been standing all alone for entirely too long. It is time for our dance.”

————

The next week was filled with much of the same. Outings and sporting events, promenades, and balls moved her through the days. Colin was there at her side for nearly all of them. He’d missed a few for business at Bridgerton House but for the most part, he was with her. Eloise was slightly vexed at her brother’s constant presence but y/n didn’t mind. His jokes were funny and just improper enough to not bore her, and she couldn’t help but secretly savor the way his hand would linger in hers as he helped her from her carriage.

She absentmindedly flipped through the book in her hand. After rereading the same passage for the fifth time, she decided that she simply wasn’t in the headspace to focus.

Her sisters were flittering through the house preparing for tonight's ball and her mother was rushing after them. It was endearing but distracting. She would also be lying if she didn’t admit to the pair of blue eyes that kept drifting through her mind. There wasn’t much she could do to stop it either.

No matter how much she pushed him from her thoughts, Colin was there. She sighed and blinked away the few tears that had formed, a mix of disappointment and sadness filled her. She couldn’t love Colin Bridgerton. He was Eloise’s brother and a Bridgerton for Christ’s sake.

The door creaked, revealing their maid who let her know of a visitor. Her mood was immediately raised at the idea. The maid had a small smile on her face which was abnormal. The older woman was typically brooding and huffy but she almost seemed giddy now.

She nodded to let the visitor in, trying to stifle the smile threatening to cover her face, and stood to her feet. She deflated a bit when Colin walked into the room.

“Should I be offended at your lack of enthusiasm towards my presence?” He grinned as he made his way towards her.

“No, No.” She shook her head, hoping to not have offended him. “I was just-”

“Expecting someone else?” He was teasing and it made her face go warm.

She rolled her eyes and sat back down on the sofa. He followed, knee against hers as he angled to face her. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he seemed to remember himself.

“I have something for you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. There was a glint in his eyes and a slight tension in his shoulders, he didn’t seem stressed but nervous.”It was my grandmother’s, my mother’s mother.”

She took the box from him and flipped it open, revealing a gold band with a small diamond. She gasped and her brows knit together in confusion. It was beautiful but why was he giving her a ring? It was too familial to just be a friendly gift. On top of it being an heirloom, it was valuable. It reminded her of her mother’s engagement ring from her father.

Y/n’s thoughts slowed at the mention of the word engagement. Colin Bridgerton was giving her a ring, a diamond ring. She stared at the glittering jewel until her surroundings faded.

“Do you not like it?” He said, worry lacing his voice, “We can find another if you would prefer. It is quite old-fashioned but I had assumed with your love of history and-”

He was rambling, talking faster and faster with each word. She’d sussed him out correctly. He had been nervous.

“No, Colin. I love it, It's beautiful.” She breathed out. Memories of the season fell into places like pieces of a puzzle. His seeking her out at every event, dancing with her at every ball, and whispering with her in the corner of every room she found herself in. The way she’d feel his eyes even when she’d looked away, his hand in hers for longer than necessary, every small touch. It made sense but he’d never said anything. “Though, I must be honest. I am not sure why you are giving it to me.”

He let out a huff of a laugh. Her eyes found him and the expression of confusion written across his face must have mirrored her own.

“I do believe we have known each other long enough to not draw out our courting period.”

She looked at him incredulously.

“You are asking for my hand?” Gaping, she looked from him to the ring and back, “At this very moment?”

He chuckled again and nodded. “I thought that much was obvious.”

“Colin, Since when have we been courting?”

It was his turn to gape at her, opening and closing his mouth before speaking again. His face went white with realization.

“I never formally asked you, have I?”

A laugh made its way through her before she could stop herself, body shaking in amusement. He looked at her, soon joining in her laughter.

She wiped the tears from her eyes as she caught her breath, letting out a small giggle before fully being finished.

They were quiet for a moment as she looked at the ring still in her hand. His eyes were on her once again and she glanced up at him, beaming. They stayed there, not looking away from the other.

“Yes, Colin Bridgerton. Of course, I will marry you.”

[sukirichi]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐏

+ umemiya hajime & togame jo (was gonna include suo but i got nervous characterizing him, sobs.) + angst, minimal fluff. mentions of timeskip. (pssp!! i’m new to writing windbreaker but if you guys want to request ficlets/headcanons like these, feel free!) + 3.4k wc

divider from @/saradika-graphics

— UMEMIYA HAJIME.

The night’s cool air bit at your skin as you stepped out of the restaurant. Pulling your coat tighter around you, you fight back the urge to look back at your date. The blind date your friends had set up was, to your surprise, not entirely disastrous. He was a charming architect, and a friend of a friend. Had a nice smile and the prettiest set of teeth you’d seen, with the kind of humor that elicited polite, yet casual laughter from you. It was… a good date.

Still, you couldn’t shake off the lingering emptiness in your heart – the void no one had been able to fill since he’d left.

You walked slowly, your thoughts drifting back to the past like it always did. You and Hajime had started dating when you were teenagers, a time when holding hands and stealing cheek kisses were the biggest deal between couples who loved a little too much, and knew a little too less.

Your relationship with him had been a well-guarded secret. Your parents were strict, said you were “too young to know anything about love.” Hajime was also the leader of a gang, albeit with noble intentions. Not that your parents would understand – they hear the word ‘gangster’ and immediately thought (or would’ve, if they’d met him) as a troublemaker. They wouldn’t take the time to know that his gang protected people from the real threats, the dangerous gangsters who roamed around the neighborhood. Your father would never understand it, and he would never have accepted Hajime.

Your love had been intense, the kind that only young hearts could know and experience only once in your lives. You’d whispered promises under the stars of marrying each other someday, stole kisses in hidden corners, and dreamt of a future together. A future that consisted of grandkids running out a minivan, and your hair would match Hajime’s iciness with old age.

Until that day where he just… left.

Hajime had broken up with you without warning, without explanation. One day he was there, and the next he was gone. It felt like your heart had been brutally ripped out from your chest. You remember crying for days, months even, waiting for him to come back – to tell you it was a mistake. But he never did. He disappeared, leaving behind only memories and an aching void that hadn’t been filled for the next years.

So lost in thought, you didn’t notice the figure standing by the restaurant’s entrance until you nearly walked into him. You looked up, your breath catching in your throat.

White hair, icy blue eyes, and smooth, pale skin turning red from the cold.

Hajime.

He’d changed since you last saw him. His hair was shorter, short enough that he couldn’t gel it and have you brush his bangs back for him like you always used to. His face was more mature, too, but his eyes – the same warm, kind eyes you’d spent hours staring into – were unmistakable. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the world around you blurring into an insignificant image.

“Hajime,” you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling.

He says your name softly, like your name itself was the world and he had to hold it with steady, careful hands. And he used to, once. Before he let it go. He scans your face as you gaze back at him, unmoving, as if trying to make sure if you were real. “It’s been a long time.”

“It has,” you agree with a short nod, your heart pounding. “What are you doing here?”

When Hajime smiled, it held no happiness in it. “I was just passing by. How have you been?”

“Good,” you lie, forcing a smile as you switch your weight from foot to foot. “I just finished a date, actually,” you jerk a thumb back at the restaurant, and Hajime’s gaze follows it.

“I see,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I, uh… I hope it went well.”

“It did,” you replied, though the words felt hollow despite your honesty. That was the worst part, it seemed. The date did go well – he was charming, gentlemanly, and seemed genuinely interested in you. Had it been another universe where you’d met, you would’ve agreed at his offer to a second date, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because in this universe they had given you Hajime, took him away from you, and cruelly made your paths cross again. “What about you? What have you been up to?”

“Oh, nothing interesting. But I did leave the gang,” he informs, making your eyes widen. “I’ve been working in community outreach, helping at-risk youth. Trying to make a difference.”

“That sounds amazing,” you say, and you mean it. It isn’t surprising that Hajime has gone down this path; he’d always been full of compassion and integrity. A truly good man at his core. “I’m glad to hear you’re doing well.”

Silence falls between you, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Even after so many years, you could read him like the back of your hand. Hajime had always worn his heart on a sleeve, the longing in his eyes mirroring your own. “Hajime,” your voice breaks as you dared take a step closer, “Why did you leave? Why did you disappear without a word?”

He looks away, his face falling. “Your dad found out about us,” he confesses quietly, “He asked me to leave you alone for your safety. He said he would do whatever it took to keep you away from harm and I – I’m not invincible, you know? He was right. Even if I did my best to protect you, as long as you’re with me, you were bound to get hurt. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“So you just left? Without telling me why?”

“I thought it was the best way to protect you,” he said, his voice pained. “I didn’t want to put you in any danger. I thought you would be better off without me.”

“But I wasn’t,” you whispered, angrily wiping away the tears that fell. “I was heartbroken, Hajime. I waited for you. Do you know how long I spent hanging around the neighborhood, hoping you’d show up and tell me you’d changed your mind? I-I thought you didn’t love me anymore.”

Hajime steps closer, regret pooling at his eyes. “I never stopped loving you. Not for a single day. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

All those years of pain and longing rose to the surface. “I missed you so much,” you say with a shaky voice. “Every day, Hajime. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he echoes, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought about you all the time. I wanted to come back, to explain everything, but I was afraid. Afraid that you’d moved on, that you wouldn’t want to see me.”

You took a deep breath, trying to stead yourself, hands clenching at your sides. “I never moved on, Hajime,” you whispered, “No one else could ever take your place.”

He reached out, gently brushing the tears that fell in a steady stream down your cheek. The warmth of his hand was welcomed in the night’s cold air, and you leant into it despite yourself. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, “I should have fought harder for us. I should have told you the truth.”

The two of you stood there, the world around you forgotten as you were lost in each other’s eyes. The years apart had been cruel, but in that moment, it felt like no time had passed at all. The familiar warmth of his gaze, the gentle curve of his smile – it all came rushing back to you, as vivid as the day you first met. The first time he’d taken your hand, the first time he’d hesitantly, yet eagerly, kissed you. You were just teenagers then, reckless and full of dreams, hiding in the shadows of your parents’ disapproval.

You could still recall the thrill of sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet him, the adrenaline of running into his arms through the streets, or the way he would wrap his arms around you to keep you warm on those chilly nights. The way he looked at you during those secret meetings, his eyes filled with a mix of adoration and mischief. And his laughter, so genuine and infectious, had been your favorite sound.

You’d shared everything – your fears, your hopes, your plans for a future that seemed so close yet somehow always just out of reach.

“Is it too late for us?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

Hajime shakes his head, a hopeful smile playing on his lips. “It’s never too late. If you’ll have me again, I want to make things right. I want to be with you – to be the right one for you. Someone you wouldn’t have to hide anymore.”

“I want that, too,” you say, your heart still full of love and longing for this man. “I never want to hide anymore, Hajime.”

— TOGAME JO.

When Hajime pulls you into his arms, holding you close, you feel whole again for the first time in years. The past had been painful, but it also led you back to each other – just like how he once said he would always look for you, in every lifetime, in every timeline. And as he pressed a gentle kiss at the top of your head, you knew and believed, that this time around, you would both be strong enough to overcome anything.

The nightclub was packed with people, the music pounding through the speakers, and the air thick with laughter and drunk conversations. You were out with your friends tonight, celebrating the end of a long week. For once, you felt free and unburdened. The neon lights flickered overhead, its colorful shadows dancing across the humid, jam-packed room.

You make your way to the dance floor, a sense of exhilaration passing over you. It had been years since you could go out like this – not needing a boyfriend’s permission, and doing whatever you liked, whenever you liked. Not that your exes were the controlling type – especially not Jo. Although looking back on it now, you wished he was a little bit controlling, just to show that he’d cared. Instead, Jo just nodded and hummed in response whenever you told him you were going out with friends, unbothered.

It had been two years since you last saw him, your first serious boyfriend after a string of failed situationships. You had shared so much with him, and yet, it had ended in a way that left a lingering ache that wouldn’t go away even after five drinks. The memories of your time together with Jo, both the bad and the good, were never far from your mind.

You’d long stopped trying to forget about him, however. Togame Jo was just someone you never forgot. Once he’d crawled his way into your heart, he’d make a home of it and have you carry the memories with him wherever you went.

He was your first love, after all. You’d been inseparable when you first started dating. It was a whirlwind romance, the type where you both clearly yearned for each other yet never had enough courage to say it out loud. The type of longing where everyone around you knew of your feelings except the two of you, and poor Sakura had had enough watching ‘the two lovesick fools.’ For months, the line between friendship and lovers blurred. You and Jo found yourself sharing secret glances from across the room, stiffening when the other’s knuckles brushed together, and heavily denying that no, they wouldn’t like me back, when it was as written in both your faces how badly you wanted each other.

And you did have each other, eventually. But as the months went by, things began to change.

Jo had become too relaxed, too comfortable now that he had you. He couldn’t see what you needed, or tell what it was you longed for – flowers, surprises, little gestures to show that he cared. Instead, your relationship had become routine. He rarely took you out on dates; most of your time was spent in his apartment, cuddling or sleeping, because Togame Jo slept like a log. And sure, you’d liked it at first. Basked in it even. To be wrapped up in his strong arms, and to wake up with your legs intertwined with each other, to hear his voice heavy with sleep call out your name.

Until the days became nothing but that – rotting in bed together. Each time you brought up wanting to spend time with him on a real date, Jo would just pull you back under the sheets, claiming you were warm and smelled too nice for him to want to leave the bed. It was something that upset you deeply, making you feel lonely even when he was right next to you.

You’d tried talking to him about it, but he never seemed to understand.

Jo was sweet and kind, but naïve in the sense that he made you feel invisible. The final straw came when you realized that being with him felt more painful than being alone. You’d hoped that he would fight for you, to ask you to stay, to see how much you were hurting and want to fix things. But when you said you felt like you and him weren’t working out anymore, all he’d said was, “Okay. If breaking up is what will make you happy, I respect that.”

You’re brought back to the present as the beat of the music pulled you onto the dance floor. You lost yourself in the rhythm, enjoying the moment, when someone bumped into you from behind. You whipped around, ready to apologize, only to be stunned into silence as you stared into a pair of familiar green eyes.

Togame says your name, his eyes wide as he balances a drink in his hand. “Jo,” you breathed out, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. It felt like the air had been knocked out of your chest. Here he was, standing right in front of you after all these years.

“Hey,” he says, inching closer so you could hear him through the loud music. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, it has!” you replied, your voice barely audible over the noise. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good!” he says, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “And you?”

“Good, too!” you said, though it felt like a lie. Seeing him brought back all the unresolved feelings, the questions you had never asked, the words you had never said.

Before either of you could say more, the music shifted to a slower beat. The crowd around you moved in closer, forcing you and Jo to bump bodies until your chests were pressed against each other. Without thinking, Jo downs his drink in one and starts to dance with you, your bodies moving instinctively to the rhythm.

It was as if no time had passed at all, the familiarity of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

The previous awkwardness began to melt away as you danced, replaced by a bittersweet nostalgia. You could feel the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart. It was both comforting and painful – a reminder of what you had lost. Years ago, before you started dating, you and Jo had been in the exact predicament – grinding and dancing on each other at some lame club Choji had VIP access too, touching each other yet still too hesitant to say what you truly felt. It felt like a lifetime ago already.

“Do you remember our first date?” Jo asked suddenly, his breath warm against your ear.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. “How could I forget? You were so nervous, you spilled your drink all over yourself.”

He chuckled, the sound sending a pang through your heart. “Yeah, I thought I’d ruined everything. But you just laughed and said it was the best date you’d ever been on.”

“It was,” you say, your voice catching. “You were so sweet, Jo. You always were.”

“I tried,” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “I really did.”

The two of you continued to dance, the music swirling around you. The years apart seemed to disappear, leaving you both in a moment that was both beautiful and heartbreaking.

 “Why did it end like that?” he asked after a while, his voice barely audible. “Why did you leave?”

You take a deep breath, the memories of your breakup – and the events leading to it – flooding back. “I felt like you didn’t see me anymore,” your voice trembles. “You stopped doing the little things that made me feel special. You were always so relaxed, so comfortable, and I felt… lonely.”

“I didn’t know,” Jo frowns, and you know he means it. He looked so confused; like hearing this from you now made everything clear, and all the while more confusing. “I thought everything was fine. I thought you were happy. I thought we were happy.”

“I tried to tell you,” you remind him, with tears stinging your eyes. Those endless nights of trying to be subtle, showing him photos of flower bouquets and mentioning twice about this restaurant you’ve been eyeing in hopes he’d take you there. He never did, because Jo liked the sight of you cooking in his apartment more. “But you never understood. And when I finally said we weren’t working out, you just agreed. You didn’t fight for us, Jo.”

His grip on your hips tightens, then falters. “I thought that’s what you wanted. I thought if I let you go, you’d be happier.”

“I missed you,” you finally admit, circling your arms around his thick neck and pressing your forehead against his. “Even after everything, I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he says, his eyes closing as he breathes in your perfume. “Every day.”

You continued to dance, your bodies swaying gently to the music – simply because you’d both lost the words to say. As you moved in unison, your eyes don’t stray from each other, soaking in the other’s presence because it might be the last time you’d ever hold each other like this again. For a moment, it felt like you were healing, like you were finally letting go of the past.

In his embrace, there was a sense of closure, a quite promise that despite everything, one thing stayed true: you loved each other truly. The bitterness of your separation melted away, leaving behind a tender acknowledgement of what you had once meant everything to each other. It wasn’t a return to what you’d lost, but the shared knowledge that your history still held value. Now, it was time to step forward, and finally find peace.

Finally, the song ends. You pull apart from him slightly, your gazes still locked. There was so much you wanted to say, so many things you still felt. But for now, this was enough. You’d found each other again, even if it was just for a short, fleeting moment.

And it was in his eyes, too – the unspoken question if you could try one more time.

Everything in your heart and mind wanted to say yes. Yes, come back to me, Jo. Come back to me and I’ll spend forever in your bed, but it was too early. The wounds too fresh. You knew that going back to the same place and person that hurt you wouldn’t heal you. It was impossible. And Jo knew that, too.

“I’ll see you around,” he says, pulling away and detangling his arms from yours. Already, you were missing the heat of him, the strength of his body against yours.

“You too, Jo,” you reply, your heart aching for him one last time.

You part ways again – Jo with Choji and your mutual friends you’d said goodbye too, and you back to the new friends you’d made when you tried building a world that didn’t revolve around him. But this time, it felt different.

You’d acknowledged your past, and while it still hurt – saying goodbye to Jo never felt easy – it also felt like a step toward the right direction. And as you walked away, you glanced back at him one last time, seeing Jo standing there, hands in his pockets, watching you leave his world once more.

[starlitrays]

KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE

starring. pro hero!katsuki bakugo x pro hero!gn!reader

summary. set several months into the fake relationship, bakugo doesn't really like you and you tolerate him, but you both know how to appease an audience | 1.7k words

content. fake dating (obvi), second person pov, bakugo having conflicting feelings, use of 'y/n' and 'l/n' for last name, fluff if you squint, x is still twitter bc i said so, reader has a pet cat, this feels choppy to me

a/n. first time writing in awhile AND first fic post AND and i didn't fully get into the flow until i was almost done so be patient i might rewrite this after awhile

navigation. masterpost.

The cameras ate up every helping you two gave them. You and Katsuki were extremely lovey dovey around the cameras no matter where they were, but when there wasn't a camera or paparazzi or a fan around you two, neither of you said much.

It had been arranged by your managers without much input from either of you, to fake date, that is. It was for approval ratings, popularity polls, and although you individually did well enough on your own, together you shot up the charts. Neither of you particularly liked each other but you could be civil to each other, and you knew how to play a camera, so it was working out well.

Now you sat, thigh to thigh next to Katsuki with his left hand held in your lap with both of your hands, smiling at the interviewer talking to the two of you. He wasn't smiling, although that was normal. The crowd, filled with live audience members and other paparazzi looking for the perfect shot, stared in awe at the perfect couple the two of you were.

When the interviewer would ask a question, you'd turn and wait for Katsuki to say something first, and if he didn't or he turned to face you, that meant it was your turn to answer the question.

”Now, there is one question that a lot of your individual and combined fans have been asking a lot lately.” The interviewer, Notaui, began, although he paused, waiting for some kind of approval from the two of you.

You started to nod a yes, and Katsuki spoke up. ”Go on.” He sounded annoyed. He always sounded annoyed though, and you were internally rolling your eyes, although that never poked through to your facial expression. Pure focus in media and PR training had taught you how to maintain an expression while feeling something else entirely.

”Can we expect to hear of a save the date anytime in the near future?” Notaui lifted his brows up at the happy couple. You turn your head to Katsuki, but he freezes, and you squeeze his hand, letting him know you would take care of it. After all, this was bound to come up eventually, and you were prepared.

”Notaui c'mon, wouldn't that ruin the surprise of a proposal?” You say with a laugh, getting the attention off Katsuki for a few moments. At the sound of your laugh, your counterpart dry laughs right along with you. You didn't need a quirk to feel the realisation of the stupidity of the question ripple through the audience. ”Besides we're in no hurry.” You continue, turning and smiling at the crowd with a wink.

The answer you gave was perfect, Katsuki knew that. He also knew that his manager would praise him for letting you handle it, but it still pissed him off a little bit, even if the rewards got him exactly where he'd wanted to be since he decided he wanted to be a pro hero.

Notaui cleared his throat, and his cheeks got a little rosy out of what most would assume was embarrassment, but you could tell, it was disappointment from not getting the answer the producers wanted.

”You just say when.” Notaui laughed, winking at the camera. It made both you and Katsuki question how this guy got his own show, but nobody knew that. ”Oh and guess what, that's time.” He announced, telling you, Katsuki and the audience that the segment of you two sitting there looking perfect, was over.

Katsuki stood up before you did, and with your hands holding his, you were quick to follow suit.

You walked over to Notaui, releasing Katsuki’s hand to shake his, politely thanking him for having the two of you on. Katsuki didn’t shake the guy’s hand, instead just nodding along with your words before ushering off the stage just behind you, barely sparing a second glance at the audience you smiled and waved at. Still, you smiled as you politely thanked all of the behind the scenes crew, just like your manager had told you while Katsuki floated around you, hands in his pockets. 

When you two finally managed your way into the elevator and the doors shut, you both let our heavy sighs almost simultaneously. You glanced over at Katsuki, who had looked over to you at the same time. We’re spending too much time together. You thought to yourself, eyes returning to anything but him.

The ding of the elevator had your smile returning and your hand reaching for Katsuki’s for just a moment longer as you left the building, where a car had been pulled around for you both. Letting go of his hand, you reached forward, pulling the back door open before sliding all the way over to the farthest seat. Katsuki got in, sitting closest to the door he pulled shut. This left just the middle seat between you two.

“Well that was bullshit.” Katsuki muttered, arms crossed while his eyes glared out the tinted window. You turned your head to him momentarily, rolling your eyes as your head turned back to looking out your own window.

“For once I agree with you.” You responded, reaching into your purse for your phone. It’d become routine now, to check your phone after every time you and Katsuki would go out together. First you open your messages, giving a thumbs up response to your manager’s text about doing great. Then you read your mom’s text about how proud she and your father were to see you on TV, which you half-smile at. They didn’t know your relationship with Katsuki wasn’t real. Your mom gets a ‘thanks mom :)’ text back, and you close out of your texts.

Deciding against checking your email, you click on the blue icon with a white bird on it. You ignore the top tweets in your timeline, moving over to the explore page. There it is.

“We’re trending again.” You say into the air, eyes never leaving your phone screen. Katsuki just hums in response. You tap the trending tag, scrolling through tweet after tweet. Of course there were a few people who hated you, or Katsuki, or both of you, but most of the tweets were big hero culture news outlets and fans raving about you guys. Sometimes you did feel a little guilty about the whole thing. Making people happy made you happy, but it’s not like any of it is true. Regardless, you go ahead and like some of the fan tweets. 

Katsuki leans his head back against the headrest of his seat. He mumbles something under his breath and you turn to him. “What?” You ask him, eyes scanning his face.

He huffs, desperately willing himself not to roll his eyes as he always does. “I said, you’re too good at this, (L/n). Better than you should be, anyways.” He says, looking away from you. You quirk a brow up at him. “I mean-” He pauses, as if thinking over his words. “how are you always so cheerful with the fans and press?” The questions echoes in your ears.

“Easy. I think about going home.” You responded, more nonchalantly than you left. Of course the lie was tiring, but being in your own bed, surrounding by blankets and pillows and your cat Zero, his different fur colours always keeping him quite clear in your vision in contrast to the shades of your bedding as your eyes scan over the screen of your laptop, giggling at the youtube video displayed on the screen. 

Katsuki looks at you.. oddly? It’s almost a scowl, but not quite. It’s almost like he’s simply displeased. You stare right back at him and pull your lips tight together, silently reiterating your words. He grunts in response, it’s his nonverbal version of ‘okay.’ 

As the driver rounds the last corner before your apartment, you notice something in your peripheral vision. Was that..? You question, eyes looking into the driver’s rear view mirror. You can’t be sure of what you’re seeing since the angle is meant for the driver, not a passenger, but when the car stops just outside the carpark of your apartment complex, you take the chance to glance back as your readjust in your seat, gathering your purse and looking around for anything else you may have left behind in the car. Cameras. You were seeing cameras, maybe they were fans, maybe they were paparazzi, that you couldn’t tell. 

You reached for the door handle, when you felt your phone buzz. Sighing shortly, you reach for your phone, a text from your manager being the sole notification at the bottom of the screen. Without clicking it, your Face ID unlocks your phone, switching the text from a new message notification, to showing the contents of the text. It tells you that there are eyes on you and Katsuki which, granted, you knew, but it always made you shiver at how she always knew.

While you didn’t like the idea of inviting a man prone to outbursts into your safe haven, you still acted immediately. You couldn’t help how your media-trained mind worked. “Give me your jacket and come with me.” You say into the air, words clearly meant for Katsuki and he looks over to you from the window, confused while you typed back an ‘okay’ text to your manager.

When he didn’t move immediately, you lifted your eyes from the screen and looked at him. “Bakugo, now.” You told him, eyes looking at him almost as if he was crazy. Katsuki began to shed his jacket, handing it over to you with a frown. 

“Why am I going with you?” He asks, rolling his shoulders back. You start to drape the jacket over your shoulders.

“I’ll tell you when we get upstairs.” You huff, offering your hand out to him. “Ready?” 

All he does is slide his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers with a nod and a grunt.

Oh the things you do to remain at the top.

© 2024 starlitrays

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

I try to keep my Reader description vague but she's a she and above average height

Here goes nothing

Chapter 1

Warnings: Swearing, mostly angst, eventual happy ending.

Y/N, or Cookie to her friends, was at her desk, trying to finish her report so she could leave work early for one of Tony Stark's parties. This wasn't her first time but tonight her bff and mostly secret crush, Bucky Barnes, was escorting her. It wasn't the first time for that either but tonight felt different. Usually they met at the elevator but when they spoke earlier he said he would pick her up at her room. They had been getting closer in the last few months and even Steve and Sam had commented about Bucky's behavior towards her.

The night was everything she had dreamed, Bucky was attentive and always had his hands on her, respectfully of course but more intimate than he usually was. They danced much of the night and when slow songs came on he pulled her close and she could feel his breath on her neck, causing chills.

Towards the end of the night, Bucky pulled her to the elevator and kissed her until they reached his floor. They were in his room, her dress gone before she could think twice, not that she would have.

She could taste the Asgardian ale on his breath, blending with the tequila on hers. Everything was a blur of flesh and feelings she had never experienced before. She couldn't get enough, neither could he.

Y/N opened her eyes to bright light and a bedroom that wasn't hers. The pounding in her head a reminder of how much she drank last night. She looked around and realized it was Bucky's room, where she spent so much of her time. Suddenly, she realized that she was naked and her stomach dropped. She had hazy memories of shots and kisses that turned into more. The kiss in the elevator. She smiled even though her head hurt, she had been crushing on Bucky since the day they met and was amazed that he actually wanted her too.

Cookie wasn't your typical beauty, taller than most girls and with more curves than your typical agent. Of course, she wasn't a field agent but was the lead intelligence analyst on the east coast reporting directly to Maria Hill.

She reached over to find his side of the bed was cool but figured he must have gone on his morning run with Steve and Sam. She sat up and saw a bottle of water next to some pain killers, which she downed, grateful that Bucky was so thoughtful. Drinking the entire bottle of water she realized she really needed to pee. Standing slowly so as not to irritate her headache she grabbed one of Bucky's t-shirts to cover herself and went to relieve herself. When she was done she went back to sit up in bed and check her emails for today's agenda.

When she was responding to a message from Maria Hill the suite door opened and Bucky came in, sweaty and gorgeous. He saw her curled up on his bed and smiling up at him.

"Morning Buck. Good run?"

He nodded and smirked "Yeah, Sam whined at us to wait up but we just lapped him until he shut up"

"Sounds fun. Since it's Sunday and nothing is scheduled, why don't you take a shower and come back to bed?"

Bucky felt his heart stop "Look doll about last night. You know you're one of my best friends and I love you but I don't feel comfortable getting into a real relationship right now. I still have so much work to do on myself. Last night was great and I was thinking we could have one of those friends with extras, or whatever it's called. You know, to blow off steam."

Her stomach dropped and she felt her eyes filling up "You mean friends with benefits?"

He nodded enthusiastically "Yeah, that's it." he smiled hopefully.

Y/N was quiet for a minute before responding, was it worth the almost guaranteed heartbreak to have more nights like last night? She shook her head, unwilling to take that risk again.

"I'm sorry Buck but I can't do that. I get attached and end up heartbroken. I can't sleep with people that I don't have romantic feelings for."

His eyes grew wide "Wait, that means you have feelings...." He trailed off.

She nodded whispering "Yeah, I do."

Bucky's face dropped "Shit, Cookie, I'm sorry. I thought we were on the same page last night. I don't know what to say. I mean, I might develop feelings over time but I don't know. I don't want to make any promises, you know?"

She swallowed the sob that tried to escape "You don't have to say anything, we can just pretend this never happened. Ok?"

She got up from the bed, clutching the sheet to her and desperately searching for her dress from last night. When she found it she quickly put it on not realizing it was inside out.

He nodded but wasn't feeling too sure of that, he could hear her heart speed up and see her hands shaking "Yeah, sure, nothing has to change."

She smiled at him sadly, tears escaping "I uh I just remembered some paperwork I needed to finish up. I'll catch you later."

"Wait doll. I-"

"Don't worry it's fine." She cleared her throat "I could use a little space and just have work to do." She kissed him on the cheek before rushing out.

Bucky stood there, not sure how to proceed. He didn't want to lose his friend but really didn't feel like he could handle a relationship now. The stress relief from the great sex they had was something he could handle and he did have feelings for her, since the day he arrived at the compound but he knew she deserved a better man than him.

**Flashback**

Y/N was in her office reviewing some reports to glean even the smallest details before they went to the appropriate briefing packets that the field agents would use to form their strategy, when she received a text from Captain America himself, requesting her presence in the common area.

She put away all of the classified info on her desk, locked it and locked the door on her way out. She took the elevator which opened into the common area and was surprised to see a large group of agents already there.

She heard Steve shout her name "Cookie! Over here." and saw his hand waving so headed in his direction.

Steve gave her a hug and pulled away excitedly "Look Cookie, it's my friend, Bucky."

Cookie smiled and offered her hand. When Bucky looked at her she felt her breath catch, holy shit was he gorgeous, way hotter than the pictures in his file "Pleased to meetcha Sargent Barnes"

Both of them felt sparks when they touched but Bucky responded like she had burned him pulling away quickly. Cookie's smile dropped for a second before she forced it back.

Bucky looked at her through his long hair "You too, ma'am."

She could see how he was shrinking into himself, trying to look smaller so she stepped back to give him space.

Steve looked at them both oddly but smiled softly when he heard how fast her heart was beating and the slight blush on Bucky's face. That was a look he remembered from so many years ago, when Bucky met Dot.

**end flashback**

The next few weeks were tense, Y/N and Bucky barely spoke outside of Avengers business. He was always busy, rushing to train or something every time she tried to talk to him. The guilt on his face showed everything, he hated that he hurt her but missed their time together. As soon as he saw her look at him longingly, before she realized he was looking and wiped that look from her face, he had to leave. He hated himself because he knew it hurt her more every time he avoided her but he just couldn't handle seeing her and being reminded of the pain he caused.

There were other, senior agents being trained by Steve, with Bucky and Sam, to prepare for an upcoming mission. Sifting through all the related Intel was keeping Y/N up at night and her haggard appearance had been noticed by most of the team.

They had a meeting to start going over the Intel to plan their strategy. On her way in, Y/N ran into Sharon Carter who she had worked with previously.

"Hey Agent Carter, good to see you."

Sharon laughed softly "Please, Y/N, we've worked together enough for you to call me Sharon."

Y/N laughed awkwardly "Um yeah, Sharon. So how have you been? Any luck finding the power broker?"

Sharon shook her head obviously frustrated "No, he's crafty for sure but we'll get him. Rumor is this mission relates to him."

Y/N nodded, "yeah, all of the serious crime in eastern Europe seem to lead back to him." She looked up and saw Nick Fury striding towards them and straightened her shoulders "Director Fury."

He nodded at her "Agent Y/L/N. Carter. Why don't we get this started, Cookie." He looked down at the container on top of her papers.

Y/N went to the front of the room to sit next to Fury's spot at the head of the table, setting the container in his place. She saw that Sharon sat next to Bucky and started talking to him, touching his right arm and laughing softly. Y/N saw Bucky smiling and felt her chest ache, her stomach cramp up and her throat dried since apparently all the water went to her eyes. She sat down and Sam, the only one who knew what happened with her and Bucky, gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand.

They held hands through the entire meeting, Bucky and Sharon touching hands under the table. He never liked people touching him except for Y/N but apparently he made an exception for Sharon because he just sat smiling. He never even looked towards Y/N.

When the meeting ended, Bucky and Sharon were the first ones out the door as he quickly led her to his room.

Y/N could barely breathe and rushed to her own room, glad it was on a different floor from Bucky's because she didn't think she could handle hearing him and Sharon go at it.

For the next couple of months it went like that. Bucky and Sharon spending most of their time in his room and Y/N trying to stay busy so she didn't think about it. They were hands off outside of his room and insisted they were just friends when Sam mentioned they were always together. Bucky heard Sam grumble about how Y/N used to be the one he wanted to hang out with, but blew it off. Nothing wrong with having a couple of friends. And Y/N didn't want a casual relationship while Sharon was down for everything and was teaching Bucky a lot.

Sharon was friendly with Cookie in the beginning but started being nasty to Y/N, calling her names and throwing out barely veiled insults when Bucky wasn't around, and did everything she could to keep them apart. Not that Bucky ever seemed to notice, too wrapped up in the constant sex to see much else. Even at team functions Sharon worked to keep her away from Bucky, so much that Y/N just avoided the both of them when at all possible.

Y/N was depressed and missing her friend. She had lost weight and had dark circles under her eyes which she claimed were from working all hours. Time wasn't helping at all, she still had dreams about that night and felt an ache in her chest every time she saw Bucky. A couple of times he tried to talk to her, invite her for the movies nites that she never attended anymore but Sharon always started whining for him and Y/N took the hint and made excuses that she had paperwork or needed sleep, anything to avoid them.

Bucky, Sam and Sharon were offsite for a few days so Y/N could pour herself into work and not worry about running into them.

Late one night she was talking to one of her informants in Latvia and the connection was weak. She claimed to have the details on the Power Broker but static kept interfering with the connection.

Y/N heard banging

"Marta?! Marta are you ok? What's going on?"

There was more banging and a clicking noise then she heard Marta crying and begging.

A muffled womans voice came on the line "You better back off of the Power Broker or you will regret it"

Y/N was pissed "Who the Hell is this? Where's Marta? What did-" she heard a gunshot and the crying stopped.

The voice chuckled "She's unavailable and if you don't wise up, you will be too."

The call disconnected.

Y/N had tears in her eyes. She had met Marta a few years back, she had kids, a family. Now Y/N took that weight and swore to whoever was listening that she would make sure the Power Broker paid for this on top of all the other death and destruction.

Y/N refused to stop and eventually passed out on her laptop. She woke to a loud knocking "Y/N you in there? Fury got a package and wants you in his office 20 minutes ago."

Y/N sighed, Maria Hill. "I'll be down asap."

15 minutes later she was out of breath on her way into his office. "Cookie, there you are. I don't know who sent this but both of our names were on it so I'm hoping you know what's up."

Y/N looked over the package, Latvian stamp no return address. She sighed "Looks like it's from one of my informants in Latvia. I was on the phone with her last nite when she was shot. And a distorted womans voice told me to back off of the Power Broker or I'd be next."

Fury nodded "Alright well let's see what she had."

Y/N carefully opened the package which included a large white envelope that felt like it was full of pictures and a zip lock with a post-it that said 'fingerprints'.

Fury called an intern in to take the prints for processing as Y/N pulled out a stack of pictures. Her jaw dropped as her heart sped up and she began to shake. There was one thing the pictures all had in common......

Sharon fucking Carter.

Chapter 2

[raysrays]

Fatal Attraction Chapter Four (NSFW)

18+ MDNI‼️

CW for the entire story: Breeding, Size Difference, Size Kink, Jealousy, Scent Marking, Age Difference, Vaginal Sex, Possessive Behavior, Angst, Twisted, Creampie, Angry Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-pulling, Biting, Master/Pet, Light Dom/sub, Violence, Knotting.

Content disclaimer: This story is inspired by the amazing artist @PammyJammy117 on Twitter/X. I in absolutely no way own or claim the idea of the "Cryptid Rengoku" character. Please give credit to the original artist who inspired the story.

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three,

Y/N Perspective.

The walk home was quiet, filled only with the sounds of the woods and the clicking noises he made. I knew where he was taking me: that den. Despite the haze that clouded my mind when I woke up this morning, I managed to recall certain details I noticed while trying to quietly escape.

It was just as you would expect from a cryptid living deep in the woods. The den was secluded, hidden by a tree line, and resembled an ominous cave. It appeared cold and empty, nothing that would stand out if you happened to notice it.

The inside told a different story. It was warm, with the floor lined with coarse furs and wool from other animals. It remained dark for the most part unless a fire was lit or the sun managed to peek through. Towards the back was the “nest” he spoke of; he said he made it for me, for us.

It was exactly what it sounded like: a nest. It was large, with a base of sticks and wood, topped with furs that were different--much softer and plush to the touch. Truthfully, with some blankets, it could be the most comfortable place to be during the cold winter months.

I’ve also noticed that Kyojuro is quite comfortable himself. His fur is soft, and he radiates warmth like any fire. Sure, he’s a ruthless, psychotic monster, but at least he’s nice to sleep with.

It didn’t take long for us to reach our destination. Once we arrived, he led me straight to the nest, sitting me down inside it. Before I could say anything, I felt his tail wrap tightly around my waist, pulling me against him. He curled up around me, holding me close.

"I’m not going to run," I reassured him.

He scoffed, as if I'd just told a ridiculous joke.

"You really expect me to believe that after the stunt you pulled this morning?" His eyes narrowed at me.

"You don’t understand. It wasn’t what it looked like. I didn’t leave because I wanted to escape. I needed to leave because--"

"Tamayo." He growled her name as if she were the bane of his existence.

"You do not belong to this Tamayo woman. You belong to me." His tail tightened around my waist, starting to hurt.

"It’s not like that. She gives me a place to stay. She’s been extremely good to me."

"I also provide for you." His pointed ear twitched in annoyance.

"I will always provide for my mate. No matter what some human can do for you, I can do more!" He sat up straighter, his voice loud and confident.

I glanced over at the opening of the den. Through the vines, I could see the sky turning orange. It would be late soon.

While I’m completely aware I’m not much assistance to Tamayo as a whole, I can’t just abandon her. She has every right to throw me out and tell me to fend for myself, but she doesn’t. She gives me grace every time. I don’t know her well enough to call her a friend, but I can say she is a good person--a mentor with a passion for monster hunting.

I can’t just disappear.

I have to help her, find something, anything to aid her research. I owe it to her. A hundred times over.

I turn back to look at Kyojuro, his red eyes staring holes into me. Glowing red.

“You are not going anywhere,” he said sharply and to the point.

I could feel my body tense up. This was a cryptid’s influence--the influence of a mate.

Even if I wanted to sneak off now, my body wouldn’t let me, or it would make me sick until I came crawling back. If I wanted to make things right, I had to convince Kyojuro it was a good idea.

“Will you please, please just hear me out at least? Just let me explain.” I sounded pathetic, begging like a damn dog.

I could see his gaze soften slightly as he sat back to get a better look at me.

“Fine, I’ll let my mate explain why she needs to go gallivanting off to this woman so desperately.”

I thought for a moment about how to make him understand. I wasn't sure how well a cryptid could grasp human emotions, let alone human relationships.

To him, anyone who interacts with me seems like a threat, someone who could take me away. Of course, that isn't true, but it must be his animalistic instincts.

"Kyojuro, before I met you, I was living alone, just trying to get by on the streets of that village you saw."

I saw a slight shift in his gaze, a mix of confusion and maybe pity.

"My point in telling you this is because Tamayo was the one who helped me. She saw I was struggling and took me in, gave me a place to stay and food to eat. All she asked in return was my assistance."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, the clicking sounds starting up more intensely as I went on. The sob story wasn’t working. I needed a different approach.

"Without Tamayo, it's very possible I would never have met you, Kyojuro. It’s because of her that we found each other."

I saw a slight change in his demeanor; his tail loosened a bit.

"Tamayo isn’t a bad person, Kyojuro. She has helped me a lot, and I haven’t been able to do a single thing to return those favors."

I looked at him desperately.

"Please, I'll be your mate, I’ll come here every night, whenever I can, but please don’t make me never see her again.”

He looked conflicted, seemingly considering it for a moment, until his tail lifted me off the ground to look me in the eyes.

“Y/N, as my mate, you are to stay here. No exceptions. I marked you as mine, I claimed you as mine. And you agreed to it.” His face was so close to mine.

I couldn’t deny it. It was true. All of this, I agreed to it. I wanted to tell myself I did it out of fear, afraid of what would happen if I said no. But I knew that was a lie.

The hard truth is that I am attracted to him. I genuinely have feelings and a sexual attraction to this cryptid monster, one of the nine most dangerous in the region.

"I know, I know I agreed to be your mate. I still want to be. But can’t there be a way for you to meet me in the middle? After all her kindness and patience with me, I can’t let her think I took advantage of that and abandoned her.”

He hesitated, looking at me as if he needed to process my words.

“Please… mate, please let me make this right.”

His eyes immediately softened at my words. He set me down gently on the nest before hovering over me.

“Y/N L/N,” he growled my name in a way that sent shivers down my spine, his voice echoing and causing my heart to race.

“I will allow you to pay your debts that you feel you owe. I am not cruel.”

I could practically feel my body relax.

“However.”

I looked up at him.

“As I said, you belong to me. You are bound to me.” He growled as he leaned down closer and closer to me. “What I say goes. You will be allowed to see this Tamayo woman during the day and aid her in whatever it is she wishes to prove, but at night, you will be here with me, in our nest. Without exception.”

I took a deep breath. His demands would be difficult, but I had to make it work. This was the best compromise I could hope for with him.

"Yes, okay. I can do that," I agreed quickly.

He stared at me for a moment before slowly rising. He looked out and finally noticed the darkening sky.

"The sun is setting. You may return tonight. Blame your tardiness on 'your old friend' from the market," he scoffed.

I stood up, glancing at my tattered clothing. I wasn't sure how I would explain it this time, but I’d figure something out.

I felt his eyes burning into me, making me uncomfortable and a little hot and bothered.

His large hand grabbed my face firmly, his claws digging slightly into my cheeks.

"That man you were with in the market today. Stay away from him," he spoke lowly.

I knew cryptids were possessive, but I never realized they could get jealous. Oh, if only he knew how little Yushiro liked me.

I nodded to show I understood. He let go and took a step back, looking me over.

"Your visit will be brief. You will return here tonight, or I will drag you here myself." The threat was clear and immediate.

“Okay, I’ll return later tonight, you won’t have to come get me.” I reassure.

His intense gaze never faltered. Now that I know kyojuro has a human form he can change to at will, I wouldn’t put it past him to follow me around everywhere.

He gives me the approval to leave.

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

The walk back was just as annoying as I remembered, hiking out of the woods only to return the same night.

This sucked. I know I’m not in a position to complain, but I feel like he forgets I’m human. My body is sore and tired; all I want is sleep.

Once the house was in sight, I made my way in, passing a few of the other people Tamayo has recruited, until I spotted Yushiro.

He looked up and saw me. As soon as he looked me up and down, he gave me his usual look of judgment.

“What the hell happened to your clothes? And where have you been?” His tone was skeptical but with a hint of concern.

“I’m sorry, I was with my friend and…” I hesitated, unsure how to explain my torn clothes.

“…we decided to go for a walk in the woods while we talked. I accidentally tripped.” I gave a sheepish smile.

What a dumb lie.

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at my clothes again.

“I’d say it’s impossible to mess up your clothes that badly from a trip, but knowing you, you’d find a way.” He scoffed.

Before he could walk away, I gently grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait, where is Tamayo? Is she in?”

Yushiro nodded.

“She’s in her study, probably settling in for the night. If you’re going to bother her, do it quickly.” He shrugged my hand off his shoulder.

Before I could say anything else, he was already halfway down the hall.

This shouldn’t take long. I just need to understand Tamayo’s plan and coordinate it with Kyojuro’s demands.

I stood in front of her study door and knocked lightly.

“Come in,” came her faint voice from behind the door.

When I entered, she was standing behind her desk, putting away some books. She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze softening when she saw me.

“Ah, Y/N. How was the market with Yushiro? He said you ran into an old friend,” she said casually.

“It was fine. I’m sorry for taking so long. Did Yushiro give you the supplies I got?”

She nodded as she placed the last book on the shelf and turned to face me.

“Yes, I got everything. I was pleased to hear you have someone to talk to outside of the group,” she said with a smile.

I started to feel awkward. Any time Kyojuro was mentioned, guilt washed over me. Tamayo had been searching for these creatures her whole life, and here I was, sharing a nest with one of them, keeping it a secret from her.

“Yes, it was very nice to see him again. It had been quite some time,” I said, playing along with the story I made up.

Tamayo's gaze swept over me. “Looks like you had a nice time indeed.” Her teasing was unexpected.

Tamayo rarely discussed anything with me other than monster hunting, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. I needed to focus on why I was here.

“Tamayo, I actually needed to talk to you about your next steps for the group. Is there anything you need me to do?”

She looked a bit surprised; it wasn’t often I showed much interest in her projects.

She grabbed a small map off her desk and unrolled it, pointing to the northeast.

“We didn’t have much luck in the northern area, so I think it’ll be better if we start going east. I intend to cover the whole region.”

A worry gnawed at my chest. Kyojuro's demands about what I can and cannot do echoed in my mind. He had expressed his anger with me for going north--the same night he marked me and claimed me as his mate.

“So, how can I help with that?”

“You’ll travel with Yushiro and me. It’ll just be us.”

I couldn’t believe what she was saying. Why me? Yushiro hates me every other day, and I contribute nothing more than eating their food.

“Why do you want me to go? Wouldn’t it be better to send some of the more experienced hunters with you?”

She gave me a slight nod.

“Yes, usually that would be the case. However, those hunters are only ‘experienced’ because they’ve had the chance to gain that experience. You, Y/N, need to get some under your belt as well.”

Well, I guess that makes sense.

“Another reason is I need some of the people who have been here longer to keep an eye on the woods around this place. We’ve noticed some strange noises and activity lately. It’s quite possible there could be something out there, so close, and we wouldn’t even know it.”

I had to keep a straight face, but my heart sank. It had to be Kyojuro; he keeps coming around because I’m here. He’s going to blow his cover and be found out.

I needed to talk to him, to explain that Tamayo and the others were catching on to his presence. I had to warn him to stay away.

Tamayo tilted her head, noticing I was lost in thought.

“Y/N?” She called my name softly.

I met her eyes for a moment before speaking. “When will we start our journey? Is it soon?”

She shrugged. “I’m still working on the details. Give me a day or so to get everything lined out, and I can give you a proper timeline.”

I felt a little relief. At least I had two days to process this with Kyojuro. Maybe with more time, he wouldn’t be as aggressive or angry. At least, that’s what I hoped.

----------

The walk back to the den wasn’t as bad as I expected. It was hard to see in the dark, but I was starting to memorize the path.

Sneaking out of my room was going to be annoying. They weren’t exactly keeping tabs on me, but people would get suspicious if they saw me walking into the woods every night and not returning until morning.

Everything about this felt complicated, but I was sure I’d get used to it. I still didn’t know how to convince Kyojuro to let me go east with Tamayo and Yushiro--probably two of his most disliked humans at the moment.

Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure another Hashira lives in that area, mainly near water. Tomioka...something like that. I remember reading about him in the books I found while trying to learn more about Kyojuro.

The only thing I remember about Tomioka is that he looks like some kind of kraken/human hybrid. Probably like a creepier, more unsettling mermaid. But the book never mentioned he was aggressive or dangerous like Shinazugawa.

Maybe Kyojuro wouldn’t be so opposed to it this time.

I could see the den, a faint light peeking through the vines that covered the entrance. When I walked in, I saw Kyojuro sitting by the fire he had started, which lit up most of the den.

He looked at me, his ears perking up, and smiled with his sharp teeth.

“Ah! So you can follow orders correctly!” he laughed enthusiastically.

I was caught off guard by his demeanor. Before everything that had happened recently, Kyojuro and I had talked casually in the woods. I wouldn’t call us friends exactly, but he was always playful and entertaining.

Given the recent circumstances, I hadn't seen this side of him in a while. He must be relaxing a little bit.

Do I really want to ruin his mood by asking to travel?

He got up from his spot by the fire and walked over to me, his tail wrapping around my waist to pull me closer. He lifted me up in his arms, nuzzling his head against my cheek.

“My mate has returned to me, just as she promised. Now we can spend the night together!” His voice echoed in the den, amplifying his excitement, and his clicking was loud.

Damn, he’s being cute.

He seems so happy; I can't talk to him about leaving right now. I miss this side of him. Sure, his looks are strangely attractive, but what really drew me to Kyojuro was his personality--fun, happy, and confident. Traits I wish I had more of.

I petted the top of his head, scratching behind his ears a little. He started making a growling purr, so I guess he liked it.

“What did you do while I was gone?” I asked, continuing to pet him.

His bright red eyes widened, and he smiled. “I hunted for you. You’re human and very small, so I made sure to bring you plenty!”

I couldn’t help but smile. He’s so happy to do things for me. Even when Kyojuro was angry with me, he’s been attentive since he claimed me. He makes sure I’m fed, that I’m not cold, that I’m safe. He doesn’t let his anger get in the way of being a provider.

Honestly, I know a lot of human men who could use a lesson in that as well...

“Thank you, Kyojuro, I’ll be sure to enjoy it.”

He set me down near the fire where some raw meat and a wooden skewer were laid out.

As I started to cook the meat, his tail draped around me, and his glowing red eyes stared into mine as he smiled. It was a little creepy, but I knew he was just happy.

The meat was good; I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now. Dealing with monsters and monster hunters can make you forget you’re a human who gets tired and hungry.

I could feel myself slightly dozing off as I ate. Curling up in the nest with my cryptid mate didn’t sound so bad right now.

Once I finished, I looked up at Kyojuro, who was still staring at me.

“I’m getting a little tired. Do you think we could go to bed now?”

His eyes flashed, and his expression changed. This smile was different--mischievous and full of lust.

“My mate wishes to sleep already? The night is still young for us, my dear...” He stood over me like a giant, his clawed hand gently grabbing my arm and pulling me up. He leaned down close to my face.

“You forget, I haven’t eaten yet. I’ve been waiting for my meal to return to me since she left.” His growl was low and seductive.

My mind was a mix of fear and arousal at his words. I couldn’t tell if he meant literally or figuratively, but I guess I was ready for either.

“What do you mean?” I struggled to find the right words.

His hand moved from my arm to my face, holding it softly.

“It means I’m going to devour you.”

Blood rushed to my face. I didn’t care which way he meant it, I was ready.

He picked me up again and carried me to our nest.

He set me down gently and leaned back to get a good look at me. His eyes darkened, his smile turning stern and commanding. His claws tugged at my already torn-up shirt.

“Take these off,” he growled lowly.

My heart pounded as I lifted my hands to unbutton my shirt. My mind was racing. I’d already let him fuck his aggression into me this morning after the run in at the market. But I could definitely go again.

I started to remove the rest of my clothes, slowly letting the fabric pool at my feet.

I could feel his intense stare his eyes wide with need, his fur standing on end.

Once I was completely bare I looked back up at him. His gaze was predatory, almost scary.

In an instant I found myself being pinned to the floor of the nest and he towered over top of me. One of his large clawed hands held both my wrists above my head while his tail pulled my legs apart.

His eyes taking me in hungrily. I could feel my body heating up.

"You are perfect," he purred.

Before I could react, his long wet tongue ran over my face and down my neck. I could feel his sharp teeth graze my skin as he moved further down my body, licking and biting as he went.

I arched into his touch, wanting more.

Suddenly his mouth closed over one of my nipples, his tongue swirling around it. The sensation made me moan loudly.

Kyojuro smirked against my chest, clearly pleased with my reactions.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" His clicking starting up again.

"Mhm," I whimpered, unable to form a proper response.

"Good." He kissed his way back up to my face, capturing my lips in a deep kiss. I couldn't help but moan again as his tongue invaded my mouth, tasting every inch of me.

I felt him release my hands, his clawed hands traveling down my body.

My body tensed up as he touched me.

"You're mine. All of you."

Kyojuro's tounge pressed against my folds, causing me to gasp.

"Kyojuro!"

I felt a sharp sting as his claws cut into the soft flesh of my thighs.

His eyes darkened, and his grin grew wider.

"My mate is so wet for me already..."

I blushed, embarrassed by his words.

"Do not be ashamed, love. I will take care of you." His purrs in my ear.

I gasped as his tongue finally found my clit, lapping over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

I gripped the fur on his shoulders, unable to keep my hands off of him.

I could hear him growling as his tongue moved faster and harder against me. My hips bucked against him, desperately trying to gain more friction. My orgasm was building quickly, and it wasn't long before I was moaning loudly, my legs shaking uncontrollably.

"Oh, Kyojuro, fuck! Please don't stop!"

my orgasm came so quick, I couldn’t believe it.

I lay there panting trying to catch my breath. It was so fast, I was almost disappointed.

This clicking noise suddenly grew louder his hand releasing my wrists and moving to my waist forcing me to sit up.

“We aren’t done yet, surely my mate can keep going.” That monstrous smile made my heart flutter again. I wasn’t done and neither was he.

As he sat back I found myself crawling between his legs, his cock was huge, hooked, the large knot bulging at the base.

I was practically drooling for it.

His eyes looked down at me amused.

“Does my mate see something she wants?” His voice echoed lowly.

I had never wanted a cock in my mouth so bad.

I couldn’t resist trying to wrap my hand around it, he growled lowly at my touch.

I knew I couldn’t fit much in my mouth but I was willing to try.

I needed it more than anything right now.

I ran my tongue from the base to the lip, looking into his eyes.

He looked so aroused, so primal.

I started to tease his tip with my tongue, flicking it back and forth before wrapping my lips around it.

It wasn’t much but it was enough to get him to groan loudly.

I started moving my head back and forth, sucking on his tip.

heard him growl loudly again as he gripped my hair in his hand, holding it still.

“More.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

I opened my mouth as wide as I could, taking as much of his tip in my mouth as I could and started moving my head back and forth.

My gags and moans sounded embarrassing, but the seemed to only edge Kyojuro on.

I could feel myself getting wet again at his pleasure.

I was starting to feel dizzy as I worked my mouth on him. I was drooling all over his cock, spit dripping from my chin.

“My little human, so eager to please me. Get on your hands and knees.”

His voice sent chills down my spine.

I complied immediately.

He positioned himself behind me, his tip pressing against my soaking wet pussy.

“You are so wet, my mate. Tell me what you want,” he demanded.

His hand wrapped around my throat and pulled me back against his chest.

I could barely get the words out.

“Fuck me, please. Fuck me hard, Kyojuro.” I whined.

He chuckled lowly at my begging.

“That’s good, I want you to beg more for me.”

He slid himself in and out of me, teasing me with just the tip.

“Please fuck me, please.” I was desperate.

He pulled out and slammed his cock in me, burying himself to the knot.

I gasped out in pleasure

His tail wrapped around my ankle, holding my legs apart. He started to move in and out of me at a fast pace.

He was going to make me cum again soon and I was sure he would follow suit.

He leaned in close to my ear and started to growl and click as he fucked me.

“Oh fuck, kyojuro...” I moaned, his tail tightening around my ankle.

I was starting to lose control again, my vision blurring as the orgasm hit me again.

His tail quickly moved from my ankle to around my waist, forcing me to stop moving.

Kyojuro’s cock pulsed in me as he released himself, his knot swelling up and locking in place.

I was completely full of his seed, unable to move.

I collapsed forward, my arms and legs giving out.

Kyojuro laid down behind me, pulling me close against him. I was already falling asleep, his warmth and his scent keeping me safe and content.

I had never felt so exhausted and protected in my life.

But I knew tomorrow would be different. I needed to convince Kyojuro to let me go on this hunt with Tamayo.

He wouldn’t be happy and he would probably be angry.

But I couldn’t let him win this time. I needed to be brave enough to hold my own.

I knew Kyojuro didn’t want me to leave, but he needed to understand why I was doing it.

I needed to protect him as much as he protected me.

I knew he would see my point of view.

He just needed to trust me a little bit.

And maybe he would see that I wasn’t going to run from him.

But guess I’ll find out tomorrow.

Next>>

—————

Tags: @fandomenbylover @emmenic726

[bysaber]

Breaking up ft. Satoru Gojo

Day 13 of 31 Days of Ficmas!

summary — you break up with your partner a few weeks prior christmas.

word count — 1.2k

content — hurt/comfort, gojo is emotionally constipated but he’s trying ok, lowercase intended

notes — today was supposed to be obito’s fic but i wrote this one first because im kinda… going thru the same thing lol. enjoy <3

everything feels out of place as you lay in bed trying to place together pieces of an unfinished puzzle.

two weeks have passed since the last time you and gojo spoke to each other. two weeks since you broke up with him, leaving a part of your heart behind.

you know you have to move on, but it’s hard when you have years of friendship and a one-year-long relationship weighing on your back. you look back to all the efforts you put into it and, foremost, you can’t completely let him go.

you always knew about gojo’s personality, in fact, you fell in love with it. but it became unsustainable when you were the one doing everything while he sat back and watched.

you used to say to him, “you are a good person. you are the best person I’ve fallen for, like a window of light in the dark.” and never once you regretted those words. you made sure to repeat them to him during the breakup.

you truly believe satoru’s a good person, and he never intended to hurt you. what defined the fate of your relationship was his inconstancy, his fear of emotions.

gojo could shower you with kisses and “i love you”s for days, but they were always half-hearted and, whenever the conversation between the two of you took a deeper turn, he would instantly shut down.

become cold, even.

he also didn’t care much about life in general, talking about several topics and simply forgetting to ask simple questions like “how was your day?”

you knew he cared, but it didn’t feel like he did.

it killed you every time he’d disappear for an entire day, especially on days you weren’t okay, not even bothering to reply to your texts, and then replying with a mere “i was busy” – you knew it already, but a text would be nice.

and to match his emotionless self, you were the embodiment of intensity.

you tried to crack up his shell, always paying attention to what he said and remembering it. you dove head first into every interest he had, and supported him in every choice he made.

you cared, you asked and, mostly, you talked.

multiple times, you tried to express how you felt, how you wish he could open up more and maybe just regard you a little more – a few texts not to worry you wouldn’t hurt. gojo said he was like that, but that he would try to be better.

what mined your relationship was that lie.

because he never even tried.

and after another month of dealing with all of that, with not feeling wanted enough, cared enough, you decided to end everything.

you can’t lie a little part of you hoped he would fight for you, ask for you to stay. but as you watched distress filling his eyes, all he could muster was, “i’m really sorry i couldn’t be better.”

and you lost everything you thought you had.

you blink away your tears, trying to escape from your painful thoughts, and get up from the bed – it’s past seven now and you need to start getting ready for a christmas party at one of your friends’ house.

you need to move on.

after taking a quick shower, you put on the red dress you’ve decided to wear – a dress that gojo bought for you months before – before starting to do your makeup.

this is when your doorbell rings.

you frown, “who is it?” you yell as you make your way toward the door, but there’s no time for an answer before you open it.

you almost close it again when you see your ex-boyfriend standing there, but you don’t. you know you need to be mature about this situation, even if seeing him makes all the walls you’ve been building crumble down.

it hurts.

“gojo.”

you don’t look him in the eye, focusing on his christmas sweater instead. funnily, the one you gave him a year ago.

“can i come in? it’s freezing outside.”

if you looked into his eyes, though, you would see the big blue bag under them. you would see how faded his blue irises are, and how fucking anxious satoru is.

you don’t ask further questions, letting him into the house he knows all too well before you close the door. he follows you like a lost puppy, and keeps standing when you sit on the couch.

“you look gorgeous,” he compliments meekly.

“thank you. what do you want?” it takes all of you to not start crying right then and there, but you know you have to be firm.

“i want you back.”

satoru doesn’t beat around the bush, and the silence that follows is so loud it can be heard. you feel your heart beating in an insane rhythm, and your head spins.

“gojo, you can’t–”

“you were right. you are right. about everything,” he interrupts you. “i was a boy, and for that i’m sorry. i acted like you had to keep up with my shit, like you would always be there, and i’m sorry for that too,” gojo speaks so fast you can barely keep up with him, like he’s going to die if he doesn’t say those words. “i thought i couldn’t change, i thought i didn’t have to. because it is easier to live the way i live, but… it is much harder to live without you.”

“gojo–”

again, he doesn’t let you speak, “don’t call me that. please, don’t call me that,” gojo drops on his knees in front of you and grabs your hand. “call me satoru, toru, baby, love for all i care. just not gojo. i’ve been miserable without you, i never thought a person could get so miserable,” his voice cracks, pulling your hand towards his face in a desperate attempt to be comforted. “i promise you i will do better, i will pay attention, text you all the time, tell you all about my past and what made me who i am, scream through my pain for what’s worth. just take me back, please.”

you are so deeply in shock that it takes you a while to register the tears falling down his face, his eyes closed as he expects the worst.

all it takes is for your thumb to caress his cheek softly, and satoru sobs. you grab his face with both of your hands, cleaning his teardrops as your own fall, and you gently kiss his forehead.

it kills you to see him like that, but at the same time it gives you a reason to live to know that he’s willing to try. for you.

you kiss his nose, his cheeks, and then his lips.

satoru whimpers, pulling you into an embrace so strong you’re afraid he’ll never let go.

“toru,” you say when you part your lips and bury your face in his neck, feeling his scent. “everything’s okay now. i’m here, i’ll take care of you.”

“missed you so much, i’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“i missed you, too,” you confess, finally looking into his eyes and frowning when you notice he hasn't slept. “what’s past is past, we’ll be okay. but i guess we should just sleep a bit, hm? it was one hell of a ride.”

“sleep together, right?”

he sounds so clingy, you chuckle lightly.

“yes, toru. together.”

[euseokz]

@ eunseok — how could you hide stuff like that from me baby, you know that only riles me up more . . cws : use of sex toys . dom/sub dynamic . wc : 0.8k+ . genre : smut

BOYFRIEND! EUNSEOK who goes a little crazy when he finds out you have a sex toy hidden away in one of your drawers, somehow never having mentioned that to him in the few months you had been together.

“i assumed you’d already know!” you’d argue, resting your hip to the side against your counter as you both stood in the middle of your kitchen, your conversation about baking a cake together having somewhere along the way lost itself and became about you having a dildo stored in your bedside table.

at first you could see eunseok was genuinely surprised, but now his eyes were slowly turning darker with lust, heavier as what you could only assume were filthy thoughts filled his mind. eunseok took a step closer to you, bringing you towards him by placing both hands on your waist, hiding them under the fabric of your pajama shirt and pressing his cold fingers against your naked skin.

“how could i ever know if you never told me, baby?” he asked rhetorically, his tone finally telling you what his expression already did — eunseok was horny, and the only thing he probably wanted in that moment was to move you to your bed and act out whatever fantasies he had bubbling up in his head. “did you use it while thinking of me? did you fuck yourself and imagine it was me?” he continued, voice dripping with arousal, lower than usual, more intimate even. he raised one hand up, brushing your hair gently behind your ear and then caressing your cheek with his thumb, eyes locked on yours the whole time as he spoke.

eunseok came even closer to you, one knee settling between your legs and pressing against your middle while his lips fell to the side of your neck, leaving fleeting pecks on the sensitive skin. “you haven’t answered my question” he pressed after a few moments, nose nuzzling into your skin, mouth by your ear as he spoke in a tone no louder than a whisper. you almost whined, but still mustered up enough self-control to give him a nod, adding a small “yeah, i did”. eunseok loved how easily you fell into a more submissive position, how he didn’t have to do much for you to willingly submit to him when it came to sex. he continued his ministrations in your neck, leveling up and moving towards actually sucking on the skin, licking and biting over every spot he wrapped his lips around, enjoying how you mewled his name, your legs faltering under some invisible weight, the only thing holding you up steady being eunseok’s grip on your hips, his fingers now reaching under your pajama pants and past the band of your underwear, completely pressed against you.

eventually, and not with much more convincing needed, you found yourself in your bed, legs spread wide as you laid down, your bottoms thrown elsewhere while eunseok kneeled in front of you, sleeves scrunched up his arm and hair slightly disheveled as he held your dildo in one hand, the other drawing comforting circles on your inner thigh while he slowly thrusted the toy in and out of your soaked cunt. the feeling of it dragging in and out of you was amazing, somehow only enhanced by the fact your boyfriend was the one pushing it into you. with each movement the toy came out of you glistening even more than before, your slick completely covering the entire length, right down to its base.

“does it feel better when i do it or when you do it?” eunseok asked, starting to go faster, a sly smile on his lips while his dark eyes shined brightly, his look almost mesmerized, as if he knew what he was doing to you — which, all things considered, with how well he already knew your body, he most definitely did. you let out a soft moan, stumbling in your words as you replied that yes, him doing it did make it feel better, that it didn’t feel the same as when you did it.

“you should just say it bluntly, baby” eunseok continued, eyes drifting to your pussy, starting to move the toy more precisely, trying to angle it so it would hit that one spot inside you he knew you liked, his other hand moving to drag over your clit, stimulating it and further enhancing your pleasure, making your legs tremble and your abdomen tense up, your orgasm already starting to threaten to build up. “you prefer it when i fuck you, even if it is with just a stupid toy. you shouldn’t be ashamed to admit that” eunseok continued, continuing to spew absolute filth with a wide, satisfied grin adorning his lips until you were finally cumming around the dildo in his hand, creaming around its girth all while moaning your boyfriend’s name.

“if you put up such a nice show for me when i fuck you with a dildo, i wanna see what you do when it’s actually my cock inside you” eunseok finalized, pulling the toy out of you and starting to undress himself, ready to finally properly turn you into a mumbling mess for him.

[agaypanic]

The Fella Part 10 (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)

The Fella Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: A family occasion takes a turn for a worse when Mary tells her aunt Bridie to drop dead, which she takes seriously. At her wake, Michelle has the bright idea to bring laced scones, which are taken and distributed among the guests.

A/N: credits to @crumpets-are-better-with-jam for writing out the script of the episode for me :)) btw just a warning, it gets a bit heated a little towards the end, but not too much i think. Also talks of drugs bc duh

***

It was becoming a bit difficult to keep up with who knew about Y/n and James’ relationship and who didn’t. Y/n’s sister Erin knew that she fancied James, but wasn’t updated on the fact that they had been dating for over three months now. Clare knew that the pair were going out after catching them kissing at the Take That concert a few weeks ago. But the rest of the group and the teens’ families were none the wiser.

Except for Y/n’s father, Gerry.

One night, everyone was hanging around the Quinn household. There were movies, loads of chatting, and some dinner. But with so many people in the house, it was hard to have even a moment alone with James. So, while everyone argued over what to put on next, Y/n snuck out to the front room, boyfriend close behind.

“I thought we weren’t gonna try to keep things a secret,” James said as he leaned against the wall, Y/n tucked into his side and holding his hand.

“I know Jamie. But with situations like this, I think it’s better to sneak away. I mean, imagine the shock that would come to Mammy, Granda, or Michelle if any of ’em found out.”

“Yeah…” James sighed, realizing Y/n was right.

“Now imagine if all three of them found out at the same time.” Y/n laughed at the idea while James’ eyes widened in horror. “Besides, wanting a moment to ourselves isn’t all bad, right?” She asked, looking up at the boy.

“Right.” He mirrored her soft smile before leaning down to catch her lips in a kiss that was eagerly returned. 

So eager that the two didn’t hear the door open.

“You’re lucky it’s me catching you two instead of your mother,” Gerry spoke, startling Y/n and James, who jumped apart. He felt a bit awkward catching his daughter kissing her boyfriend, but he didn’t look too surprised that she had a boyfriend in the first place.

“Da, I can explain.” Y/n tried to go on, but Gerry held up a hand, signaling her to stop.

“I already know.” He said with a smile, hands clasping behind his back. “About you two. Never would’ve if they didn’t decide to film that concert you girls went to.” That new information mortified Y/n and James. But they didn’t have time to fully react, because Gerry continued. “I think the three of us should have a little chat.”

***

The conversation wasn’t as bad as Y/n thought it would’ve been. Gerry was clearly happy and okay with the relationship, just wanting to make sure that they weren’t doing anything too serious. That topic might’ve been the most embarrassing part of the interaction for Y/n.

James, on the other hand, seemed scared shitless the entire time. But Y/n suspected that her father wasn’t so hard on him because of how he was treated by his father-in-law. He probably didn’t want to create some kind of a cycle. Plus, Gerry was pretty fond of James, even before he learned about him and his daughter being an item.

The entire talk played on a loop in Y/n’s head as she sat in church with the rest of her family, waiting for their relative’s wedding to start. Soon enough, the familiar tune of ‘Here Comes The Bride’ started to play, and everyone in the room stood.

“Where do you reckon Aunt Sarah is?” Y/n asked her sister Erin, noticing that a family member was missing from their pew. But her question was soon answered when Sarah entered the room and started walking down the aisle, dressed in white. “Good God.” 

Gasps and murmurs filled the room as Sarah went to stand with her family in the pew, revealing a horrified bride and her father behind her.

“Jesus, but that taxi took forever, so it did.” Sarah sighed. The bride-to-be looked at Sarah, absolutely appalled as she passed by. “Ach, isn’t she gorgeous?”

Mary rolled her eyes and looked up towards the sky as she took a deep breath.

“Give me strength…” She muttered.

***

Y/n was a bit surprised that the Quinn family, mainly her aunt Sarah, was still invited to the reception. But that didn’t stop her from trying to have a good time. She, her sister, and her cousin drank and danced around as they waited for their friends to arrive.

Soon enough, Erin spotted their friends, nudging her sister and cousin to gain their attention. They quickly ran to the venue entrance to meet with the other girls and James.

“Muthafuckas!” Michelle yelled in greetings, arms spread out and grin wide. 

“How’s it been?” Clare asked with a smile.

The sisters and Orla all had different responses, but had the same reaction when Mary snuck up behind the three of them.

“Girls!” The shout startled them, and everyone whipped around to look at her.

“Jesus, Mammy,” Y/n muttered.

“I said you could invite one friend to the reception. One!”

“Mammy, they don’t come separately,” Erin said, rolling her eyes. She thought her mother would’ve learned this after years of friendship.

“We’re like one big set,” Y/n said, gesturing to the group of teenagers.

“Aye, we’re pack animals, Mary,” Michelle said. Mary was about to say something, possibly tell them to leave or further reprimand them, when James spoke.

“I love your hat, Mrs. Quinn.” He said with a smile, eyeing the accessory. Mary smiled, and the girls were surprised to see that her slightly sour mood had seemed to disappear.

“Thanks, son.” She said, giving him a nod before looking at the whole group, a bit more serious. “No wild carry-on. Do you hear me? We’re in enough bother as it is. Best behavior.”

“Completely.” Clare nodded, taking the commands to heart.

“You’ll have no trouble from us, Mary,” Michelle said with an innocent smile, which should be worrying. Mary walked off, and Michelle turned back to the group once she was out of earshot. “Okay, girls, who wants to do drugs?” Y/n snorted at the complete 180, but Michelle was completely serious.

The girls, mainly Michelle and Erin, like always, had a back and forth about the drugs and someone named Macca and so on. Y/n used this moment to turn to James, almost glued to his side at the back of the group as they all walked around the reception party.

“Trying to butter up Mammy, are you?” She asked teasingly, thinking about how James’ little comment completely changed her mother’s sour demeanor.

James laughed a little, throwing his head back, and Y/n couldn’t help but smile stupidly at the boy. He shrugged.

“Well, I figured I might as well start now to try to get on her good side. It’s only a matter of time, I think.” Y/n nodded in agreement.

“We could tell them.” She suggested after a small moment of silence. James perked up, both surprised and delighted by the notion. “I mean, like you said, it’s only a matter of time. And they’d probably prefer hearing it from us over walking in on us doing something.”

James’ cheeks reddened at the sentence. He blinked a few times, his mind clearly drifting off to some kind of thought.

“And by something… you mean like-” Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and music started blasting through the speakers. Y/n lit up in excitement along with the rest of the room, while James looked a bit confused at the commotion that started to happen.

“‘Rock the Boat’! It’s ‘Rock the Boat!” Clare squealed as she recognized the song.

“Happy fuckin’ days!” Michelle said, and the girls ran to the dance floor. Y/n was dragging James behind her, who seemed slightly alarmed by everyone’s intense enthusiasm. 

Everyone sat on the floor in long, giant rows, fighting for space. The girls were able to push their way to the front, synchronously dancing with the rest of the party people. There, the girls continued their drug conversation, with Y/n and James now joining in.

“Look, Michelle,” Clare said to the girl behind her. “Drugs are illegal, drugs are addictive, and perhaps most importantly, in this country, you can lose your kneecaps if you’re caught doing them. And I like my kneecaps, Michelle; they suit my knees.”

“You do have crackin’ kneecaps, Clare.” Orla smiled at the girl, having to leave to the side and turn her head to look at the blonde.

“Is that true?” James asked, lips close to Y/n’s ear.

“What?” Y/n turned around, almost startled by how James was to her face. “Clare’s kneecaps?”

“No. I mean losing your kneecaps.”

“Oh. Clare’s a bit dramatic, Jamie.” The girl turned back around to face ahead. “But she’s a bit right, I think.”

“What?!”

Before any conversations could continue, a dull but loud thud was heard from a corner of the room. Everyone looked to see Aunt Bridie lying on the floor, with the Quinn family looking at Mary in shock.

***

The next few days felt tense at the Quinn household. It was mainly the teenagers being fearful of Mary, because they believed that she was the reason for her Aunt Bridie’s sudden death and didn’t want to be her next victim. The house had never been so clean and tidy.

“I just cannot believe it.” Mary’s tone was almost flat as she stared off into space, clutching her teacup and rarely ever sipping it.

“Listen, Mary,” Sarah said, sitting in the chair beside her. “No matter what you’ve done, you’re still my sister. I’ll stand by you.”

“I haven’t done anything, Sarah.”

“Exactly, love. Everybody knows you didn’t mean to kill the old boot.” Grandpa Joe paused to take a sip of his coffee. “God rest her soul.”

“I didn’t kill her,” Mary responded, immediately tired of the assumption.

“You know what I mean, not kill.” Joe looked around as if he would find the word he was looking for on the wall. “Hex.”

“I didn’t hex her either, Da.” She said defensively. “It was just a very tragic-”

“My mother, she had the gift too, y’know.” Joe interrupted. “By God, that woman could make her enemies drop like flies.”

“Look, I don’t have any gift,” Mary said, letting go of her teacup to lay her hands flat on the table to show finality and seriousness. “There’s no dark forces at play here. I just said somethin’... unfortunate that happened to-”

“Cause her death?” Sarah asked.

“Coincide with her death.” Mary corrected.

Ah, yes. Mary telling her aunt Bridie to drop dead and then her actually doing it was just an unfortunate coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less.

Meanwhile, at the sink, Y/n dried the last dish that Erin washed and handed it to Orla to put away. The three girls had been working as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb Mary. Erin was the first to speak, turning around slowly with a nervous tone.

“Right. Well, that’s the dishes done. Would you like another cup of tea, Mammy?”

As if remembering she even had a cup of tea, Mary looked down at the cup and took a quick sip.

“No, I’m fine.”

“I’ll just grab the Hoover n’give the stairs a bit of a going over.”

“Aye, and I can sweep the hall and such,” Y/n added, trying to remember the last place she had seen the broom. 

“And I’ll maybe do a bit of dusting,” Orla said.

Mary raised an eyebrow, suspicion of the girls pulling her out of her dazed and solemn mood.

“What’s gotten into you all?” She asked. “What’re you up to? What’s going on?”

“Nothin’!” Erin answered, still seeming a bit scared. “We just thought that we should pull our weight a bit more, Mammy.”

“You do so much for us, Aunt Mary.”

“Aye, Mammy, you deserve a bit of a break.”

“I can’t hex people, girls,” Mary said frustratedly. “It was an accident.”

As if on cue, Gerry waltzed into the kitchen and smiled at his wife. He placed a hand on her shoulder as part of a greeting.

“So, how’s the Wicked Witch of the North West?” The question seemed so loving and innocent. Y/n would’ve laughed if Mary hadn’t seemed like she was actually about to murder someone.

“Who put fifty p in the eedgit?” Joe asked, glaring at Gerry. Gerry looked at him confused, wondering what he had done this time.

Mary groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

“God, how am I going to go to this wake?”

“It’ll be grand, love,” Joe said. “But listen, say if things do get heated, try not to rise to it. The last thing we want is another dead body on our hands here.”

Mary stared up at Joe with a blank expression.

“I’ll do my best, Da.”

***

Later that evening, the Quinns and McCools arrived at the wake. Everyone seemed a bit surprised and startled to see Mary, clearly believing the rumors that she had been her Aunt Bridie’s undoing. After a slightly awkward encounter with Eamon, Bridie’s son, the girls escaped everyone by going upstairs to the room that held Bridie herself.

“She really suits bein’ dead, doesn’t she?” Orla said after a good moment of solemn silence, staring down at the woman.

“What?” Erin seemed disturbed by what her cousin had said, but Y/n nodded.

“No, yeah, I agree. I like her better like this.”

“Y/n, she’s dead.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you liked her better living?”

Before Erin could answer, the door to the room opened. The girls turned to see Clare peeking her head through.

“Can we come in?” She asked in a whisper.

“Why are you whispering, Clare?” Y/n asked, tilting her head in confusion. Clare paused, thinking it over.

“I don’t know.”

The rest of the group crowded around Bridie’s casket. Michelle and Clare walked to the end by her feet, and James decided to stand behind Y/n. He rested a hand gently on her shoulder, as if to comfort her, and she raised a hand of her own to lay on his, as if to thank him.

“Thanks for comin’, guys.” Erin sighed, seeming slightly distressed now. “It’s nice to have a bit of support in this very difficult time.” Everyone seemed very confused by the statement. 

“You thought she was a dick,” Michelle said.

“I never said that.”

“You did, Erin,” Orla said.

“I’m pretty sure we all thought she was a dick, but you were the vocal one about it,” Y/n added.

“Aye, I’ve definitely heard you say it,” Clare said.

“Okay, can I just check something?” James asked, clearly focused on something else. The girls looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “Everybody else can see the dead body, right?”

Everyone took a glance at the body in question, trying to figure out what the problem was.

“It’s just Bridie, Jamie,” Y/n said.

“It’s Bridie’s corpse.” The boy corrected. “It’s Bridie’s dead corpse.”

“It’s her wake. What were you expectin’?” Michelle asked, rolling her eyes.

“Haven’t you ever seen a dead body before?” Erin asked.

“Of course not!” James nearly yelled, shocked that Erin would even ask such a question. Michelle scoffed.

“Christ, but the English are weird.”

Orla leaned down close to Bridie, taking her face in her hands and looking up at James. She had that childlike but absentminded wonder in her eyes and smile that she always had.

“You can touch her if you want.”

James flinched, moving his hands to Y/n’s hips as he took a slight step back. As he moved back, he maneuvered Y/n to act as a shield between him and the dead body and Orla. James looked at Orla in disgusted shock.

“Why the hell would I want to touch her?” Y/n snorted at James’ suddenly high-pitched voice.

“It’s nice.” Orla smiled brightly.

“Stop it.”

“It’s just a dead body, James,” Clare said in a comforting tone, trying to get him to calm down. “We’re all gonna be one someday.”

“Oh, thanks for that, Clare!” Horrified, James brought Y/n closer until her back was pressed against his front. It was as if everyone else was some sort of strange or bad energy that could only be warded off by Y/n, and she was happy to go along with it. “Yeah, that’s helped!”

“It’s okay, Jamie,” Y/n said, patting one of the hands gripping her hips. James relaxed just a bit, but was still weary because of how weird this whole situation was to him. “Calm yourself.”

“It really makes you think, doesn’t it?” Michelle said solemnly, staring at Bridie for a second before looking at the girls. “Death.” She sighed dramatically, and everyone immediately wondered what she was up to this time. “It just… just makes you wanna… do everythin’ and just… try everythin’.”

“What’s going on, Michelle?” Clare asked, looking at her suspiciously.

“Yeah, what are you on about?” Y/n eyed the girl with a raised brow. Michelle suddenly seemed excited, a stark contrast to her fake grimness.

“Do you wanna see something’ class?” Michelle then threw her purse, which was, for some reason, big and bulky, onto Bridie’s feet. Someone would’ve reprimanded her for disrespecting the deceased by using Bridie as a table, but they were too busy watching her pull a big Tupperware out of her purse. “Prepare yourself, girls.” She then popped the lid off to show what was inside. She looked at her friends excitedly.

“Scones?” Erin asked, clearly unimpressed.

“That’s right.”

“What’s so class about scones?”

“Scones are lovely.” Orla countered, seeming a bit offended by Erin’s uninterest.

“Aye, I like scones.” Clare nodded.

“No, these aren’t any old scones, girls.” Michelle insisted, shaking her head. “These are funny scones.”

“Funny’s the right word, alright,” Y/n said, reaching for one of the scones in the bin to look at it. As she dropped it back in with the rest, she looked at Michelle with a tilt of her head. “What’s so special about ’em?”

“They’re drug scones!” Clare squeaked, pointing urgently at the food. “She’s put the drugs in the scones!”

“Too fuckin’ right, I have,” Michelle said with a grin. “I wanted to do brownies, but this was the only recipe my ma had, so…”

“I don’t think it’s that hard to find a brownie recipe, Michelle,” Y/n said. 

“I’m not goin’ out of my way to find a brownie recipe, Y/n.”

“We talked about this, Michelle. We agreed.” Clare said, bringing the conversation back to the drugs.

“No, we didn’t,” Michelle argued. “Anyway, drugs aren’t illegal when you put them into food. Everybody knows that.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Michelle,” Y/n said.

“Is that right?” James asked sarcastically, almost glaring with bewilderment at his cousin. “I’m not sure that’s right.”

Just then, the door opened, and everybody froze. An old woman walked in, and the girls quickly recognized her as one of the caterers for the wake.

“Any cups up here?” She asked, walking towards them while looking around. She spotted the tub, and before anyone could stop her, she reached out and grabbed it. “I’ll take that.” The woman said simply before leaving the room.

Everyone stared at where the scones had once been, panic running through them all.

“What the fuck just happened?” Michelle asked the room. Y/n looked at the girl with wide eyes.

“I believe a caterer just took your funny fuckin’ scones to give out at our great Aunt Bridie’s wake, Michelle.”

After another moment of feeling frozen, everyone went downstairs as fast as possible without drawing attention. Defeated and not knowing what to do, the girls sat down on the steps. As they settled, they watched Joe pass by with one of the scones in hand.

“What are we gonna do?” Clare asked frantically.

“It’s fine,” Michelle said shortly. But everyone could tell she was just as panicked as the rest.

“It’s definitely not fine!” Clare hissed. “There’s drug scones down there. People’ll eat the drug scones, then we’ve drugged those people, Michelle.”

“Our granda included.” Y/n butted in, resting her chin on the top of James’ head, who was sitting on one of the steps just below her. “Lord knows what’ll happen to him.”

“So?” Michelle said, clearly worried but trying to seem aloof. “Drugging people isn’t a crime.”

“You’ve a very loose grasp of the law, Michelle,” James said, rubbing at his eyes in disbelief and exhaustion.

“What kind of person brings hash scones to a wake?” Erin asked with a scowl. Michelle scoffed.

“Typical.” She said. “I try to do a nice thing, and this is the thanks I get.”

“A nice thing?” Y/n repeated in disbelief, turning back to look at Michelle. “Oh yeah, how nice. Let’s all get hopped up illegally at a wake. Oh, wait. We can’t, because someone took your stupid scones!”

“It’s terrible,” Clare added, sounding as panicked and scared as usual. “There’s old people down there; what if an old person takes one?”

“Why does everyone get so sentimental about old people?” Michelle asked. “Old people are arseholes.” 

“We’ve got to get ’em back, girls,” Erin said, starting to get scared of the thought of any of her family having a funny scone.

“Look, I’m not disagreeing with you. I bought that stuff so I could get high, not your great Uncle Colm.”

“Oh Christ, I didn’t even think about that,” Y/n muttered. Colm was already a character to begin with; him being high as balls would probably turn him either more boring or unmanageable. Y/n stood up and faced the girls. “Here’s the plan. I’ll head to the kitchen to grab whatever’s left. The rest of you go and find the ones that people have taken and pray that they haven’t taken a bite yet.”

“And remember, girls,” Erin said, standing up with her sister. “Be subtle.” Everyone nodded and split up to do their tasks.

Y/n went to the kitchen and quietly crept to the swinging door. She took a quick look, saw that the few people inside were occupied with different things, and carefully walked in. She was surprised to see her father ranting about cross-contamination and using different bowls. Y/n wondered if he had been roped into helping in the kitchen, but whether he was forced or had volunteered, she smiled at the sight of his sudden passion.

Y/n spotted the scones, about half the amount from the last time she saw them, now plated on a serving platter. While reaching for the plate, the door opened behind her.

“Now listen here, you.” Y/n flinched and turned around quickly, recognizing the voice to be her granda Joe. But he wasn’t looking at her. As usual, he directed his pointed look to Gerry, who looked at his father-in-law, both confused and annoyed.

“Yes, Joe?”

“I just wanna say…” Joe trailed off, getting closer to Gerry and putting a hand on his shoulder. Gerry and Y/n looked at the old man in bewilderment when he laughed. “I think you’re doing a fine job.” Then he patted Gerry’s cheek before turning around and walking out of the kitchen. “Keep up the good work.”

Gerry and Y/n turned their shocked stares to each other once Joe was out of the room. The only thing that broke their eye contact was a timer going off, which somehow snapped Gerry back into his working mode. Using the opportunity of her dad’s distractedness, Y/n swiped the platter and walked out.

The girl soon realized that she and her friends never agreed on a place to meet after retrieving the scones. But not wanting anyone to see her wander around with a platter of scones, she snuck back upstairs, where she was surprised to see James slowly wandering the hallway.

“Hey,” Y/n said with relief, glad it was him instead of a stranger. Or worse, her mother.

“Hey.” He smiled at her, holding up a scone as he walked closer to her. “Found your uncle Colm with this.” He sat the scone on top of the others.

“Thank God you got it before he took a bite.” Y/n laughed lightly, James joining in. “Were you just waiting for someone to come up?”

“Yeah, I thought being up here would be better than wandering around where everyone else was.”

“Smart.” Y/n nodded once, looking around the empty hall. “What do you suppose we do about all of these?”

The two thought for a moment, racking their brains for an idea. James suddenly snapped his fingers.

“Remember when you snuck over to mine that one night, and we watched Goodfellas?”

“Aye, Ray Liotta was a dream, wasn’t he?”

“Sure.” James rolled his eyes at the comment. “But do you remember how Karen got rid of the drugs?”

Y/n took a quick second to think about whether or not she did, in fact, remember. The most memorable things of the night she snuck over to James’ were Ray Liotta, the snacks James had snuck up to his room, and kissing each other to keep loud talking or laughs from gaining the attention of the rest of the household.

“You think it’ll work?” Y/n asked once she remembered what James was talking about. “I mean, these are scones.”

“What other options do we have?” James asked. And to be honest, Y/n couldn’t think of any.

The sound of a knob turning startled the two teens. They scrambled to hide the stolen platter of scones behind them just before the bathroom door a bit down the hall opened up. A middle-aged woman that Y/n barely recognized walked out, and Y/n and James smiled politely at her as she passed.

Once she was down the stairs, James and Y/n ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind them.

“Let’s just wait for the others here,” Y/n said, balancing the platter on the sink so she wouldn’t have to hold it any longer. “So… what d’ya wanna do?”

It took a few seconds of silence before Y/n and James rushed at each other, quickly becoming a mess of tangled limbs and clashing lips. The couple rarely had time alone for things like this, the heat of the moment always being ignored because of the fear of being caught. But with a locked door, a few minutes of making out couldn’t do much harm.

Y/n’s hands buried themselves into James’ curls, tugging at them as he backed her into the wall next to the door. A hand cupped the back of her neck while the other stayed gripped on her waist, keeping her in place. Not that she’d want to leave.

James’ lips strayed away from Y/n’s, leaving featherlight kisses across her cheek and jaw before settling on her neck. The hand on Y/n’s neck pulled back her hair, giving James the access he needed to nip and suck lightly at the sensitive skin just below Y/n’s ear.

“Are you marking me?” She asked, breath hitching. She wasn’t opposing the matter, far from it, really. But she was a bit surprised to have this kind of behavior coming from James.

“Just a bit.” He replied breathlessly, kissing the slightly sore spot before returning to Y/n’s lips. “For a bit of fun, y’know?” Y/n giggled. She was lucky that she could probably hide the soon-to-be mark by keeping her hair down.

“Sure, just a bit of fun.” She replied, pecking James’ lips a few times.

The two were able to get themselves straightened out just before the rest of the girls found them. They closed the door behind them, and James caught them all up on the plan.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Michelle sighed as she and the rest of the group broke apart the scones and dropped the crumbled bits into the toilet. “It’s fuckin’ heartbreaking.”

“Believe me, Michelle, it’s better this way,” Y/n said, grabbing another laced scone. “Granda’s had one, and now he’s acting, like, really fuckin’ weird.”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“He was nice to Daddy.” The group made noises of shock and disbelief. “Exactly. And if Mammy starts asking questions…”

“You’re Ma won’t trace it back to us.”

“Are you serious?” Erin asked Michelle. “She traces everything back to us. She traces things we haven’t even done back to us!”

“Are you sure this’ll work?” Clare asked James.

“This is how you get rid of drugs, Clare.” He said confidently, as if this wasn’t the first time he’s had to do this. “I’ve seen Goodfellas, like, twenty times.”

“Aye, good movie,” Y/n commented as she brushed her hands on her jeans to get rid of the crumbs that stuck to her nervously sweaty palms. 

“That’s not the only way.” Orla countered. “I watched this film once about this girl who was tryin’ to hide drugs, and what she did was she shoved them right up her—”

“I’m not sticking a scone up my hole, Orla.” Michelle hissed. Orla shrugged, raising her hands in defense.

Once everyone was done breaking down the scones, Clare sighed, seeming as nervous and panicked as always.

“Okay, I’m gonna flush.” She did so, and everyone watched as not much happened. “Is it working?”

“‘Course it’s working,” James said, still sure of his plan.

But then the water started to rise, and everyone started to panic.

“Jesus Christ!” Erin yelped in a high-pitched voice. “Why is the water rising, James?”

“I don’t know! The water didn’t rise in Goodfellas!”

“We’ve clogged it.”

“Who has a plunger?” Orla asked, seeming to be the most calm of the group.

“I’m afraid I left the house without me plunger tonight, Orla,” Erin replied, clearly sarcastic. 

“Aye, me too,” Orla replied seriously. “Nightmare, so it is.”

The toilet started flooding faster, and the girls scrambled around in a panic. Scone water was beginning to spill onto the floor, and everyone had to stop themselves from gagging as they tried to find a way to clean it up. This situation couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Dear God…” Everyone whipped around to see the adults of the Quinn and McCool families, plus Bridie’s son, Eamon. Erin laughed nervously, deciding to be the one to find an excuse.

“It looks worse than it is.” Was all she said, which really wasn’t much of an excuse.

“My mother was right about you people,” Eamon said, horrified and angry. “Wild animals have more manners.”

“We didn’t have a plunger, Eamon!” Orla shouted.

“Get out!” He yelled. “Get out!”

The teens did so gladly, running out of the bathroom and out of the house. They gathered on the front lawn, and they couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the evening. But they still feared what would happen when Mary walked out.

“The night wasn’t all that bad, I think,” James said quietly, only Y/n being able to hear him. She looked up at him curiously.

“How so?”

Instead of speaking, he raised his hand to cup her neck, gently tapping where he had bruised her. She gasped, pushing his hand away before the two of them fell into laughter, not caring about the confused looks their friends gave them.

“I’ll see you Monday, then?” He asked when they had calmed down a bit. Y/n caught a glimpse of her mother leaving the house before she answered.

“If I live that long.”

~~~

TAG LIST: @mistahjsfunnygirl @etherealdisneyvillainness @crystalsoobin-m @raggedyoldwitch @rosetintworld @regretthatsme @neenieweenie @allexiiisss @drmeghanjones @eli-com @anything-for-our-moony-toast @ilovespideyyy @eddisaurus @imagines--galore @imastabu @emma-is-a-nerd @sir1usblacksgf @kaz-2y567 @ventingtostrangersontheinterwebs @spidercrush3 @humanoid-freak14 @miilkshakess @underthebatcape @dear-jamespotter @brithedemonspawn @crumpets-are-better-with-jam @acupnoodle @nevillescomslut @hantivity @slaymybreathaway @mystic-writings @thegirlwithoutaname87 @mystic-mara

SEND ME AN ASK OR COMMENT IF YOU"D LIKE TO BE ADDED OR REMOVED FROM THE TAG LIST!

[dfortrafalgar]

Catch Up

Law x Fem Reader

You might have met your soulmate while intoxicated, making out with him in a dark broom closet. But the only thing you left with was his first name.

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT, MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!, reader is meant to be over 21, bar crawl setting and responsible alcohol consumption

--

A/N- I'm still (still!) working on requests, and posting un-posted fics from my google drive in the meantime. I'm hoping to have my inbox open once again at the end of the month, or perhaps early June, now that my work/life balance is adjusting properly since starting my new job! I'm really sorry to those who have been hoping for consistent fics from me, i really wish i could write as much as i was recently but i'm still trying really hard!

[Also posted on AO3]

Chapter 1

[Next]

It was hard to convince yourself that you weren’t just the slightest bit tipsy as you kept your head lowered and channeled all of your focus into making sure your feet walked in a linear path.  How many bars had you gone to again?  Four?  Five, maybe?  Your body swayed slightly with your gait as your mind scrambled to catch up with the last drink that you had.  It was only a cocktail, as all your other drinks from your bar crawl were.  Was it mango-flavored?  What street were you even on now?  You blindly followed the two women in front of you whose voices were gleefully mocking the words you had said some hours before the sun had gone down.

“‘I’m not a lightweight, never have been!’” chided Ikkaku, eyes crinkled in a smile as she poked fun at your previous confident statement.  She tossed a glance over her shoulder where you walked only a few steps behind.

“I’m not a lightweight!  My voice isn’t even slurring yet!” you fought back, increasing your speed to keep pace with your best friends.

“And what was the last drink you had?” Nami asked, pulling her phone out of her bra to check her map.

“A mango margarita,” you confirmed.  “With a little lime wedge and a mint leaf for a garnish.  The place was called Elgia Lounge and it was on–”

“Okay, okay, you’re not drunk!  We surrender!” laughed Ikkaku.  “I’m glad you’re not, though, because this next place apparently has some of the best pineapple daiquiris in the entire city.”

Your mouth started watering immediately at the thought.  You were always a sucker for sweet cocktails, arguably some of the most dangerous drinks due to the way the tangy, sour mixers completely blocked the taste of any alcohol added.  Sometimes, it was impossible to tell if there even was alcohol in the glass, but with the way you walked, there was obviously more than enough from your previous locations.  You hadn’t quite passed the threshold into drunk territory yet, but the image of a sweet and tart pineapple daiquiri might just be the thing to completely inebriate you.

Nami stopped dead in her tracks and looked towards the congested buildings immediately to your right side, scanning the signposts in the dark and looking for a specific one.  Tucked in between two sports bars, with absolutely zero signage on the graffiti-covered door, the red-head nodded her head toward the unmarked entrance.  “This is it.”

“Nami, you’re going to get us killed,” Ikkaku murmured, eyes squinting at the door to spot any indication that this was indeed a speakeasy and not a hidden trap house.  

“Am not, I swear this is the place!”

The three of you approached the steel door, Nami confidently being the one to ring the doorbell that was attached to a small intercom system.  It took a few breathless moments of mild worry before a voice filled with static came through the speaker.

“Password?”

You and Ikkaku were both blindsided as Nami crossed her arms over her chest and loudly proclaimed, “Suck my big, fat cock.”

Another few seconds of silence followed before the lock on the door clicked open and the same voice from before spoke, “Come in.”

“What the fuck,” you muttered in shock.

“Told you it was legit!” Nami chided with a giggle.

“A place that makes you say, ‘Suck my big, fat cock,’ as a password doesn’t seem very legit to me, but I’ll take your word for it,” Ikkaku mused as she followed Nami through the door and down a flight of stairs only illuminated with blue and pink fluorescent lights.

Graffiti completely covered the entire interior of the stairwell, leaving no part of concrete untouched from colorful ink.  Even the ceiling above you was marked in elaborate, incomprehensible swirls and zags of paint of all different colors, made even more colorful in the odd lighting.  The stairwell seemed to last forever as you followed your two friends down into the underground, clutching the steel railing for dear life as your tipsy vertigo fought with your ability to walk down a flight of steps.  You finally reached the bottom to another door, this time lined with a soft, cushiony leather fabric.  Nami pulled open the door and greeted a black-clad man standing in the small room directly behind it.

“IDs,” he grumbled.  Straight to the point.

The three of you fumbled through your purses for your driver’s licenses before handing each of them over to the man for a review.  He clicked on a pocket flashlight, scanning each card, handing them back to you with a hum.  “Enjoy the night, ladies.”  His large hand pushed open another door that was hidden in the wall itself.

The room that was opened to you was unlike any of the other bars you had entered, both during your current crawl and in your entire adult life previous.  The room was cloaked in a sexy blue and pink lighting, decorative art of pin-up models framed on the walls along with retro-inspired neon signs and liquor branding.  Groups of people filled the tables nearby, laughing and drinking through the booming music that flowed freely through the space.  It was crowded, almost overwhelmingly so, but you squeezed close to Ikkaku’s back as you pushed your way through the other patrons to get to the bar.  Your hand accidentally grabbed Ikkaku’s ass as her shoulder bumped into your breast, both of you wheezing out surprised laughter.

You popped through the stream of people to the bar which was, unsurprisingly, completely filled with every seat taken.  Two men worked tirelessly behind the counter, filling shakers with liquor and mixers, bitters and juices.  A bin of assorted fruits sat open in front of patrons, allowing the bartenders to grab their garnishes quickly and decorate their glasses with expert precision before passing them off to elated, tipsy customers.  You, Nami, and Ikkaku squeezed yourselves into the far corner of the bar, between the counter and a booth of patrons.  

“At least we can stand here!  It’s a bit crowded but it’ll do for now,” the red-head yelled through the shaking stereo that sat nearby.  

One of the two bartenders waved his hand in the air to attract your attention.  Long, spikey auburn hair framed a sharp face and crooked nose.  You were confused at the angular sunglasses that covered his eyes, but paid no mind in the end.  His voice cut through the music, but was clearly worn after a long night of screaming at people because of the volume.  “What can I get for you, ladies?”

Nami handed the man her credit card, explaining that she was going to close out after one drink for each of them, which he gladly accepted and placed in a secure box by the register.  Your eyes frantically scanned the illuminated menu above the bar, the raunchy, debauched names of the signature cocktails revealing absolutely nothing about their ingredients.  

“What the hell is a ‘Fuck Me Sideways?’” you shouted towards your friends.  

The man behind the counter cackled.  “That’s a pineapple daiquiri!  It’s sour as fuck, hence the name!”

Your mind flashed back to your conversation from the street, mouth once again salivating at the thought of the tangy, delicious concoction.  “I’ll get that please!”

The man memorized your three orders and immediately got to work.  You watched idly as he nudged his coworker’s shoulder and alerted him of the order so he could help with making your drinks.  It was then that your eyes trailed to said coworker.

All sound in the room faded into a muffled nothingness as your eyes narrowed on the other bartender, pupils dilating.  Toned, tanned arms and hands were littered in elaborate, grungy tattoos, and you could tell with the way his worn t-shirt dipped below his collarbones that he had another large piece on his chest, defining his pectorals even from beneath his clothing.  His jawline was sharp, a small goatee defining his chin, black sideburns framing his perfect face as intense, golden eyes focused on his work.   His tongue poked out from his thick lips slightly, revealing a tiny glimpse of a stud pierced through the muscle, and giving his intimidating appearance a sudden adorable qualm as long, deft fingers poured shots of liquor into his metal shaker cup.

You barely noticed the fingers snapping in your face.

“Hey, Earth to Apollo!  Can you read me?” Ikkaku hollered directly in your ear, shaking you out of your trance.

You jumped in surprise, music fading back into your consciousness as the sound of Nami’s laughter brought you firmly back to reality.

“Looks like someone’s got the hots for the emo bartender over there!” sang the red-head, leaning against the wall and making a very lewd gesture with her hands.

You grumbled.  “Do not!”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Ikkaku chuckled in response.  “He is pretty cute… if you don’t make a move I might.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you growled, making your best friends roar in laughter.  A rush of blood filled your face with an embarrassed heat.  “He probably already has a partner, a guy as hot as him can’t possibly be single.”

“There’s only one way to find that out, and it’s to talk to him,” lectured Nami.  “Come on, you’re on a bar crawl, you’re drunk, you’re hot, your pants make your ass look fucking amazing.  I would look the other way if you dragged that hunk to the bathrooms.”

“Nami!  Shut up!” you screamed, thoroughly embarrassed now.  It’s not like anyone could hear your conversation amongst the intense volume of the room, but the subject matter still made you flush from your tailbone to the crown of your head.

The conversation dissipated into enthusiasm about the location, the three of you taking note of the sex-positive decor and how good the playlist was.  Every once in a while, your eyes would dart back to the raven-haired man with his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as he filtered a cocktail through the metal strainer and into a slim, iced glass.  He reached forward into his box of garnishes, procuring a thin lime wedge and expertly slicing it down the middle to perch it on the rim of the glass.  As you were staring at him, his eyes darted up directly meeting yours.  Your face flushed red hot with embarrassment, but before you could yank your gaze away, he flashed you a grin that had your legs quivering.  He held up the drink.  It was your’s.

You pulled away from Nami and Ikkaku who hardly noticed your movement as you approached the bar and reached between two peoples’ shoulders to grab your cocktail from the man who kept his deep, golden eyes on your form the entire time.  An elated, cold sweat ran up your spine and you flashed him as good of a smile as you could through your ceaseless embarrassment that he had caught you staring.

Once the drink was in your hands, he tossed you a wink.

You hobbled back toward Nami and Ikkaku who were already holding their own orders, sipping idly through their conversation.

“You look like you got spooked by a ghost or something!” giggled Ikkaku, squeezing your left cheek with her fingers.

“Ikka, that hot emo bartender gave her her daiquiri!” Nami replied for you, making the curly-haired girl gasp in excitement.

“Did he say anything?  Did you say anything?”  The questions rolled off of her tongue faster than your heart rate.

“He just winked at me, and smiled, I guess,” you stated through nervous breaths.  

Your best friends dragged you into the conversation that had developed in the short time you were away getting your drink, but when you tossed another glance over your shoulder, you once again locked with golden eyes that froze your feet to the ground.

—

You weren’t exactly sure how much time had passed over all, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour.  You and your friends finished your drinks, closed out your tab, and proceeded to the dance floor to burn off energy under the neon disco lights and pounding music.  You let your mind stray away from the bartender’s piercing glare while you moved your hips against Nami’s, the two of you poking fun at Ikkaku from afar as she found herself in an awkward dance with a random man who was far from her type (that is to say: not a woman).  The room was dipping slightly around you, the sweet pineapple daiquiri definitely making you tipsier than you wanted to be.  You didn’t have to pee at that moment, but you figured it would be worth a shot to sober you up even just slightly.  With a nudge against Nami’s shoulder, you pointed to the bathroom, mouthing your intentions, and waved to her as you walked toward the back of the room through the sea of happy, alcohol-fueled patrons.

The bathroom was situated behind the bar past a few rows of small booth tables, and the further you walked from the center of the lounge the more the music faded to a much more tolerable volume.  The walls remained lined with graffiti, which you trailed with your eyes as you walked, marveling at the tantalizing swirls of colors and personalized messages and names memorialized forever on the concrete.  You finally rounded the corner into the small corridor where the two single bathrooms were found, along with a single broom closet that was kept closed with a padlock.  Your feet blindly led you towards one of the bathroom doors that was cracked open.

“You know, those pants make your ass look phenomenal.”

A husky voice stopped you in your tracks.  A million thoughts rushed through your mind within an instant.  Who was talking to you?  Did you get followed to the bathroom?  Were you being watched?  Were you in danger?  Should you have brought your purse with you instead of leaving it with Nami?  Were you going to make a run for it?

Fighting against your flight, you turned around to face the voice that cut through the muffled music.

Intense, golden eyes, raven-black hair, and a sly, toothy smirk.

“Sorry if I scared you, I promise I didn’t follow you back here,” he added, his face morphing from a flirtatious, mischievous expression into a more apologetic one.  “I had to take a piss, too.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, really!” you replied, inwardly wincing at how your voice involuntarily quivered with excited anxiety.  The Hot Emo Bartender was standing in front of you.  Had he just complimented your ass?  “And, uhm, thank you!  For my ass.  I mean, for saying I look good.  Or, phenomenal, I think?”  You pinched your lips shut forcing yourself to cease your drunken rambling, but your reaction only made the man’s mouth curl into a grin as a laugh bubbled out of his throat.

“Go sober up in there, princess, then we’ll talk.  I’ll wait for you out here.”  The man ended his sentence by entering the second unoccupied bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

You quickly did the same.  The bathroom had the exact same aesthetic and lighting as the rest of the establishment, the mirror completely covered in graffiti and leaving little room to view your current appearance after you finished your business.  You gazed through the dried ink, fixing your hair with your fingers and pushing your boobs into place under your top, blowing an encouraging huff out of your mouth before washing your hands, drying them, and exiting the bathroom into the corridor once more.

The man had indeed waited for you, leaning nonchalantly against the wall with one leg up checking his phone.  He was tall, much taller than you, and his legs were long and skinny, complemented beautifully by his tight, bespeckled jeans.  The spots were definitely an odd aesthetic choice in your mind, but you couldn’t complain.  Somehow, they suited his vibe perfectly.  He picked his head up and looked you up and down, that charming, mischievous grin once again returning to his lips.

“Feel better?”

“Absolutely, I didn’t think you’d actually wait out here,” you confirmed.  Somehow, your voice had evened out from the anxious drunken stupor you sported before.  Maybe pissing out the alcohol did have its merits.

“Good, I wanted to talk to you but needed to see if you were too drunk first.  Those pineapple daiquiris are really something,” he explained.

You were very quickly gaining more comfort in his presence, isolated from the club beyond the corridor in the dim lighting that accentuated his cheekbones and gave him the sexiest aura you had ever seen.  You swallowed your pounding heart and returned his grin.

“Talk to me?  Out of everyone here?” you questioned, putting on your charm.

“I don’t just talk to any random bar patron,” he responded.  “In fact, I barely talk to anyone here at all.  But how could I pass up such an alluring face?”  He stepped across the corridor to you, reaching out a hand that smelled like the generic brand soap in the bathroom.  His callouses tickled the fine hairs of your cheek and chin.

“And ass?” you asked innocently, clearly enjoying the little game you two had initiated.

“And ass,” he repeated.  “Though…” his eyes trailed up and down your body from his closer angle, eating you up through your clothes.  “You’re definitely the most stunning girl I’ve ever seen, all around.”  His golden eyes met yours once more.  “You have beautiful eyes.”

He had done it now.  You were beyond flustered, convinced that your entire body was glowing red and steaming like a geyser from your anticipation and embarrassment at his tender compliments.  A part of you still wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t the type to talk up every woman at the bar, but Nami’s words from prior bounced through your skull.  You were drunk, you were hot, and damn it, your pants did make your ass look good!  You only live once, right?

With alcohol and adrenaline fueled courage you never experienced before, you closed the narrow gap between your bodies and pressed your lips against his, standing on your toes and grasping his shoulders to steady yourself.  The anxious voice in your head told you he was going to push you away, call you some horrible slur and leave you in the dust to regret every choice you made leading up to that moment.

You were very pleasantly surprised when his lanky arms looped around your waist, clutching you close to his sturdy form as he moved his lips against yours.  You weren’t an expert kisser by any means, but something about the way his mouth moved told you that he wasn’t actually used to doing this, more of a smooth-talker than a do-er.  He was reluctant to open his mouth to allocate for your tongue, instead simply pursing and unpursing his lips against yours.  The feeling made you pull away, failing to suppress the giggle that followed.

Before you had the chance to make any snide, lighthearted comment, however, a tattooed hand traveled down your arm and gripped your hand, dragging you toward the broom closet.  He fiddled with the padlock on the door without letting you go, shoving open the entrance with his shoulder and pulling you inside.  The door slammed behind you, now almost completely muffling the music blaring from within the club.  The two of you were now free from prying eyes that might wander into the corridor to use the bathroom, completely unaware of the actions taking place just one door away.

In the stark darkness of the closet, the man’s hands found the collar of your shirt and pulled it down as best as he could, encouraging you to slip your arms out and pull it over your head.  His lips pecked at your jaw, your chin, your neck, and the dip of your breast as you unhooked your bra and let it flop to the floor.  Your own hands grasped his ratty t-shirt and yanked it over his head, its loose fit making undressing his torso much easier.  Your fingers now had access to his bare skin, your breath hitching in your throat as you blindly felt around firm abdominal muscles that met a lean yet supple chest and broad shoulders.  Even through the lack of light you could tell just how attractive this man was.  A smattering of coarse hairs covered his chest and stomach, but for the most part he was well trimmed, save for the patch of hair that you felt at his naval.  You heard his breath catch in his throat as your fingers followed the dip of his pelvic bone and trailed along the belt of his jeans.

“Wait,” his airy voice muttered.  “I need to know your name.”

You laughed, divulging your information.  You felt his lips smile against the skin of your neck.

“I’m Law,” he added.

“Law…” you exhaled his name on your soft, aroused breath.  “Can you fuck me, Law?”

A low groan rumbled through Law’s throat as his hands now played at your own waistband.  “Anything for you, princess.”