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scoonsalicious · 4 months

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Reminder: I am on a posting break for new content until May 23rd so that I can focus on writing WFLT...

In the meantime, please enjoy this second installment of Unwanted: Unusables, or, chapters from the first draft that didn't make it into the final cut of the finished story! Today, I have an early version of Chapter 6: Unattached. A lot of the beginning is the same (the dinner itself), but there was a LOT I added, then removed, from the end of the chapter. Jade was going by Jewel at this point in the draft, and Tony had gifted Pocket a Ferrari Sergio as his post-Civil War apology.

Why did I scrap this section? Easy: I couldn't realistically convince myself that Nat didn't know how to drive stick shift, lol.

Since this is the whole chapter (as it was) in its entirety, it's long AF.

Enjoy!

You and Bucky arrived at the common room an hour or so later, the sound of laughter filtering out from inside.

"Sounds like it's going well," Bucky turned to you with a hopeful smile. "Try to play nice in there, okay?"

"I'm always nice," you pouted, but when Bucky gave you a pointed look, you sighed. "Fine. It goes against my better judgement," you said, adjusting the collar of Bucky's shirt, "but I'll do it for you."

The look he gave you was indiscernible. There was warmth and affection there, but also an undercurrent of sadness in it that left you unsettled. You swallowed, looking away from him. "Alright, let's get this over with," you said, putting more conviction in your voice than you felt.

He took your hand, and together you walked into the common room. It wasn't hard to spot Jewel-- she was presiding smack dab in the middle of the room, telling some story that had Sam, Steve, Rhodey, Thor, and even Bruce all at rapturous attention.

"I'm going to go introduce myself real quick, then be right back," said Bucky, letting go of your hand and heading over to where Jewel had was holding court. The temperature of the air seemed to drop ten degrees without the warmth of his presence by your side.

You watched as he made his way over to stand beside Steve. In seemingly no time at all, Steve was making the introductions. Bucky took Jewel's hand, and to your surprise, he bent over and kissed her knuckles. Your mind's eye took you back to the day you'd met him, when you'd pulled your own hand back after he'd refused to even shake it.

Jewel demurred and looked away from Bucky, bashfully, before putting a hand on his chest and saying something that made Bucky laugh and caused his cheeks to blush.

"Careful, you glare any harder, you're liable to bore a hole straight through him," Natasha said, coming up alongside of you.

"What if I aim for her, instead?" you asked, reaching for the tumbler of alcohol she offered you and taking a sip to distract yourself.

"What happened to no-strings-attached, friends who happen to fuck?" Nat asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me you've grown strings, Pocket."

You looked away from the scene in front of you. "There might be some growing of string, in theory," you mumbled to her. Nat was the only person you had confided in regarding your arrangement with Bucky. Of course, your friend had been thrilled that there had been something going on between the two of you, but she'd been more concerned about protecting your heart-- was this the safest thing for you to do? You assured her at the time you'd be fine, but now...?

"String Theory?" asked Tony, popping up behind you both with a glass of whiskey. "Seems like a heavy topic of conversation for a social gathering, ladies."

"How'd the interview go?" you asked, hoping to move the topic of conversation as far away from Bucky as possible, now that Tony was there.

"She's everything you said, and more," said Tony with a sad shake of his head. "She put on a good show, though. Cap was eating right out of her hand."

Disappointment coursed through you at his words. "Looks like he's not the only one," you murmured as you watched Jewel let out a coquettish giggle at something Bucky said.

You kept up your conversation with Tony to keep yourself from openly staring, but it was hard to concentrate on anything else. Your heart sank every time they shared a laugh or a joke, or Jewel leaned into Bucky ever so slightly. You found yourself tensing each time Bucky reached out and put a hand on Jewel's arm or shoulder in response to something she said-- all too familiar gestures that you'd grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of, not watching him impart on others from a distance. So much for his "be right back."

You hated yourself for feeling this way.

Eventually, Tony's personal chef, Raul, called everyone to the table for dinner and the little gathering around Jewel broke up. Normally, you would be excited-- you loved it when Raul cooked special dinners for the team, but tonight you were on edge. Following Nat and Tony to the table, you froze in your tracks while you watched Bucky pull back a chair-- your chair, the one you had sat in, next to Bucky, for every meal for the last year-- for Jewel, pushing it in for her as she sat down.

Your heart felt like it was being ripped in half. Your brain automatically began thinking up excuses you could make for leaving the room, but you knew that would only make things worse for you in the long run.

The air around you suddenly felt as though it had grown colder. Everyone around you had noticed Bucky pull out a chair for Jewel-- silently declaring to all that tonight, she was the one he wanted next to him, and not you, despite your unspoken ritual. Sam shot you a sympathetic look, and Steve, who had been getting ready to sit at Bucky's other side, moved to offer you his chair, instead, as if that would make up for Bucky's slight.

You grimaced and silently shook your head at Steve, not wanting to draw any more attention to the awkward situation you found yourself in. Instead, you made your way to the only remaining seat at the table next to Nat-- directly across from Jewel and Bucky.

As you sat down, Jewel looked up at you with a bright smile. "Hi," she said, voice like honey. "I don't think we had a chance to meet yet. I'm Jewel, but you can call me 'Vixen.'"

You looked at her, confusion leaking into your features.

"I thought the two of you met when you gave Vixen her tour earlier," Bucky said, apparently remembering that you did exist, after all.

"Oh, no," Jewel (you absolutely refused to refer to her as 'Vixen,' even in your own head) said with a dismissive laugh, "they had some little bitch of an intern give me my tour. I should actually complain to Stark about her, she had an attitude."

"No, that was definitely me," you said, fighting to keep the annoyance out of your tone, "attitude and all." You had literally wasted three and a half hours of your life escorting this woman around the Tower and she couldn't be bothered to remember you? Jewel didn't even have the decency to look chastised at calling you bitchy to your face.

"They let interns have dinner with the Avengers?" she asked in disbelief, instead. "Have to say, I thought it be a little more... elite."

"Pocket's not an intern," Steve said with a laugh, as though it were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, and you were grateful to him for coming to your defense. "She's an Avenger, just like the rest of us." You gave Steve a warm, appreciative smile.

"Thanks, Cap," you said, truly touched he had called you an Avenger.

"Well, she's more like Avenger-adjacent," Bucky amended. The words shouldn't have stung-- it was how you had referred to yourself hundreds of times, but you tended to reserve it for your low moments, when you were feeling unequal to Earth's mightiest heroes. Hearing the words come out of Bucky's mouth, as if he, too, shared in your belief that you were inferior to the rest of them... well, that fucking hurt.

Steve let out a surprised laugh. "Pocket may not have enhanced physical abilities, but she's brilliant. She's an expert in strategy, she's got a PhD in Mechanical Engineering and Computation, and she's got a black belt in Krav Maga. It's no exaggeration to say I'd be dead a couple dozen times over if I hadn't had her at my six. If anything, I think it makes her more important than the rest of us. We're here because of the physical things we can do; Pocket's essential to the team because of how she thinks. We're replaceable, Pocket's one-of-a-kind."

You were speechless at Steve's words, your throat tightening with the emotional lump that had formed there. That may have been the kindest, sweetest thing anyone had said about you, ever, especially on the heels of Bucky's comment. Catching his eye, you mouthed a silent thank you, wishing you could convey how much his words meant to you. He winked at you in acknowledgement.

"I just meant that we try to keep Pocket away from the dangerous stuff," Bucky backpedaled, weakly, in your opinion. "Can't risk her getting hurt." He smiled at you, but you just stared back, impassively, until he looked away, embarrassed. He knew you only called yourself 'Avenger-adjacent' when you were being hard on yourself. He fucking knew it, because he had told you to knock it off a hundred times.

"So, Pocket's an interesting name," Jewel said, and you were momentarily grateful to her for trying to move the conversation on to something less embarrassing for you. "Did your parents, like, hate you or something?" she continued with a giggle. Well, that was a short-lived respite.

"Yeah, they did, actually," you said, completely straight-faced, "but the feeling was mutual, so no love lost there."

Jewel's mouth dropped open in shock and you had the distinct impression you'd ruined whatever power play she'd been trying to pull on you.

Nat broke into laughter next to you, and soon everyone else around you was joining in. While only a select few at the table knew the full extent of what your parents had put you through, it was no secret that you had experienced abuse at their hands, and it was second nature for you to use dark humor to help you cope with it.

As the laughter died down, the small talk started up again. You were thankful for the distraction, but your appetite was gone, which was a shame, because Raul had done an excellent job. You pushed your food around your plate, occasionally nodding along as though you were paying attention to the conversations around you.

You tried to ignore the little glances and gestures that Jewel directed at Bucky, but your eyes kept flickering over to them. You couldn't help but notice the way his body leaned in slightly towards hers when they talked. Did he do that when he spoke to you? He hadn't even said a word to you since the horrible Avengers-adjacent comment.

"So, Bucky," Jewel said, her voice low and flirty, "handsome super hero like you, you got a girlfriend?" Your eyes snapped up, watching him, sure he was going to look to you, make eye contact. Something to acknowledge what was between you, that would make you feel like you were still in the same room, hell, on the same fucking planet, as him. But he didn't.

Bucky grinned, running a hand through his hair.

"Nah, no girlfriend," he said, glancing over at Jewel. "But I'm definitely open to the idea." You had been stabbed in the abdomen on a mission once, and that hurt less than hearing the words that came out of Bucky's mouth, and you had to resist the urge to get up and leave the room at that moment.

"Really, man?" Sam asked from where he sat on the other side of Natasha, his voice hard in disbelief. The atmosphere in your corner of the table had shifted. Natasha, Steve, and Sam all stared at Bucky with looks ranging from incredulity to flat out disgust. Maybe the two of you hadn't been as secretive as you'd thought.

You couldn't bring yourself to even look at Bucky anymore. It felt like a betrayal, the way his eyes had met Jewel's and not yours. You tried to focus on the conversation around you, but all you could hear were your own thoughts. How could he be so callous as to openly flirt with someone else in front of you? Had you meant nothing to him?

You took a deep breath, trying to steel yourself against the pain that was slowly building inside of you. You knew that the two of you were never anything official, but you had thought that there was something there between you.

As the dinner continued, you couldn't shake the misery that had settled in your chest. You excused yourself with no explanation, abruptly getting up from the table, and made your way back to your room. Once you were alone, you let out a shaky breath, tears streaming down your face.

How could you have been so stupid? You had let yourself believe that there could be something real between you and Bucky, but clearly, you had been wrong. He was interested in Jewel and you were just a convenient friend. Being kept in a holding pattern until something better came along.

You collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your pillow as sobs wracked your body. How could you even face him now, knowing that he had no real interest in you beyond your friendship, after all the things you had done together? You didn't know if you could bear being in the same room with him, pretending like everything was okay between the two of you.

As you lay there, lost in your thoughts, you barely registered the sound of your phone buzzing from your bedside table. Picking it up, you saw you had a new message from Nat.

Do you want me to kill them?

You wiped away your tears, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Leave it to Natasha to offer such a straightforward solution. Despite your heartache, you couldn't help but appreciate her loyalty and fierce protectiveness.

You typed back:

No, as tempting as it might be. Thank you for offering, but I don't want you sent away for double homicide.

Her response was almost instantaneous:

I'm insulted you assume I'd get caught :)

The smiley face at the end was too much, and you actually laughed. You were so grateful to have her as your friend.

Thanks for having my back, Natty.

Any and every time, Pocket. You know that <3

Other texts started trickling in from the rest of your family. Everyone checking in to make sure you were okay, since you had left the table so suddenly and without giving a reason.

But none came from Bucky.

Your suite suddenly felt too small and hot-- you needed to get out, go somewhere that wasn't covered in memories of Bucky so that you could breathe. There was only one thing you did that always helped clear your head. You needed to go dancing.

You changed your clothes for the third time today, opting for a pair of skintight, red leather pants and a black halter top. You did your hair and put on some makeup-- just enough to mask that you'd been crying, but still enough to turn a man's head.

Shoving your phone, ID, and credit card into your back pocket, you left your room and headed back to the common room. You could have just texted Nat to ask her if she wanted to come with you, but you wanted to see Bucky's reaction to how you looked, if he even had one at all.

You were surprised to find the common room far emptier than you'd left it a little over an hour ago. It seemed as though, once dinner had ended, the gathering had broken up and people had started going their own way. Glancing around, you saw Nat standing by a window, looking out over the Manhattan skyline, but Bucky and Jewel were nowhere to be seen. You tried to ignore the rock that had taken up residence in your stomach.

"Natty," you called, getting her attention. She met you halfway across the room, a large grin spread across her face.

"Damn, girl," she let out a low whistle as she assessed your outfit. "You trying to give Barnes a heart attack?" she asked.

"No," you said, "I want to go dancing. I need to get out of my head. You want to come?"

"Absolutely, if only to keep you from making any decisions you might regret in the morning." She paused, assessing you. "He's walking her out, by the way. In case you were wondering where they were."

You had, but your stomach soured at the knowledge, all the same.

Down in the lobby, you were just about to call an Uber for you and Nat when you spotted Bucky standing off to the side with Jewel. They were standing far too close together for your liking. You hoped you could sneak by without attracting their attention, but Jewel caught sight of the two of you and began waving you over.

"Natasha!" she called (okay, so maybe she wasn't waving you over). "Come join us!"

Nat gave you a questioning look, silently asking what you wanted to do.

"Might as well," you muttered. "Night's already gone mostly to hell."

You and Nat made your way over to where Jewel and Bucky were standing.

"Did you come to say goodbye?" Jewel asked Nat, the eagerness in her voice palpable.

"Uh, no," Nat replied, obviously confused. "Pocket and I are heading out. We're going dancing."

"Oh. My. God." Jewel practically started jumping up and down. "Bucky, we should go dancing with her!" It wasn't lost on either you or Natasha that Jewel seemed to be purposefully excluding you from the conversation. Bucky, unsurprisingly, didn't seem to notice.

"Sorry," you said, suddenly struck with inspiration, "but the car's only a two-seater. Maybe next time."

Nat raised a questioning eyebrow at you as you picked your phone out of your pocket and dialed the Tower's garage. "Hey, Carl, it's Pocket.... Good, thanks... you?... Listen, can you have someone bring my Sergio to the front entrance? I'll be taking it out tonight... I know ... Great... thanks!" You ended the call and looked to Nat. "They'll bring the car up in just a minute."

Nat couldn't hide the grin that had spread across her face. "Finally! I have been dying to get my ass into that car forever!

"What's a Sergio?" Jewel asked. "I've never heard of it before."

"I wouldn't have expected you to," Nat said, giving Jewel a tight, fake smile. "Seeing as how Ferrari only ever made six of them."

"Pocket," Bucky said, the first words he'd spoken to you since you and Nat had arrived, "can I talk to you for a minute?" He took your arm and led you away from Nat and Jewel to a more secluded section of the lobby.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice low and with a hint of warning behind it.

"Going dancing with Nat," you said simply.

"Come on, you never drive that car. You're too scared of damaging it. So, how come the first time you decide to take it for a spin is right in front of Jewel?"

"What are you insinuating, Bucky?" you asked defensively. He looked at you as though you were a child lying about who broke Grandma's favorite vase.

"You're pissed about the intern comment, so you want to flaunt how much money you make. That's really not like you, Pocket. I'm disappointed."

You were physically taken aback by his words. "You honestly think I'd do something like that?" you asked, incredibly offended he could think such a thing of you.

"I didn't think so, but..." he let the rest of the statement hang in the air.

"I called for the fucking car because I didn't want her just inviting herself to join Nat and me," you snapped. "It has absolutely nothing to do with showing off how much money I have."

Bucky ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "God, Pocket, would it kill you to be nice to her for just a minute? I don't understand why you have it out for her so badly."

"That girl has been nothing but nasty to me all day," you said through gritted teeth. "And if you haven't noticed that by now, nothing I say is going to make you see it." God, you were so disappointed in him. The hurt and betrayal you'd felt earlier had subsided and now you just felt... sad. Deflated. "I don't want to argue with you, Buck. Especially not about her. So, can we just agree to disagree on this, and Nat and I can be on our way? I'm sure you have more important things you'd rather be doing than giving me the third degree, anyway."

He crossed his arms, giving you a hard stare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Tilting your head, you pursed your lips and gave him a look. "Really? Everyone noticed it, Bucky. Everyone."

"Pocket!" Nat called out to you, preventing Bucky from responding to your insinuation. "Car's here!"

With a heavy sigh, you began to make your way to the front doors. "See you later, Barnes," you called over your shoulder. You were more than ready to get out of there and lose yourself in the music.

Hours later, you were coated in a sheen of sweat from dancing and completely and utterly shitfaced. You hadn't intended to get drunk, let alone this drunk, but once the alcohol started numbing your feelings, all you wanted to do was drown your emotions in it. Now, you were sitting in a booth in the club, head pressed against the wall, fighting to keep your eyes open. Nat had taken your phone and was talking to someone.

"Hey, it's Natasha. Can you do me a solid and meet up with us? ... Pocket's plastered and I don't know how to drive stick. ... It means I can't get her car home. ... She already shares her location with you, right? So just take an Uber. ... You can drive her back to the Tower and I'll take the Uber home. ... Did you forget how she dragged your ass home when you were drunk on Thor's Asgardian shit? ... I'd say you owe her. ... Text her phone when you get here; I'm holding onto it. ... Good, see you in a bit." She hung up and bent down so she was at eye level with you.

"Sweetie," she said gently, "don't be mad at me, but I called Bucky to come get you and bring your car home."

You scrunched up your face in disgust. "Bucky? Ew. I'm mad at him. He sucks."

"I know, honey, but he's the only other person I know who can drive stick who's awake at this hour, and your car's too expensive to leave in valet parking overnight." She brushed your hair away from your face as you turned to look at her.

"What's wrong with me, Natty?" you asked her, your emotions fighting their way back up through the haze of the alcohol.

"Nothing, Pocket. Honey, nothing's wrong with you. Why would you ask me that?" Nat's voice was full of concern.

"Why doesn't he love me, then? Why am I good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love?" The last of the words came out in a choked sob.

Nat wrapped her arms around you, rubbing her hands up and down your back in a soothing pattern. "You'd have to ask him that, sweetie. I can't answer it for him."

"It's 'cause I'm just a gross, used up whore," you told her. "'s all I've ever been good for-- sticking dicks in. Nothing else."

Nat held you at arm's length so she could look you in the eye. "Pocket, stop. That's Darren talking, not you, honey. You know that's not true."

"Then why doesn't he want me?" you hiccuped. "Fuck, Natty. 'm so in love with him, it hurts." There. You finally admitted it, not just to Nat, but to yourself. You were in love with your best friend, and you had been for a while now. You'd been too afraid to acknowledge it, to open yourself up to the idea that maybe you could have a real relationship with him, and now it was too late. He'd found someone else, and you'd missed any chance you might have had.

"I know, sweetheart," she said, embracing you again. "Everyone knew and, for what it's worth, we were all sure he felt the same way."

"He doesn't, though," you sniveled into her shoulder. "And why'd it have to be her? Natty, she's so awful. He could have anyone he wanted, why did he have to pick her?"

Natasha sighed. "Because he's a guy, and he thinks with his dick," she told you. "And since dicks don't have eyes, it makes it hard for men to see what someone like Jewel's really like. Especially when Jewel doesn't want them to."

You snorted, imagining Bucky's dick with googly eyes attached to it. "His dick was the best, Nat," you bemoaned. "I'm going to miss it so much. So many times, when we were finished, I couldn't even walk after."

It was Nat's turn to snort. "That does sound like some good dick, Pocket," she admitted.

"And his tongue," you sighed. "'s so long, you wouldn't believe--"

"Okay, Pocket, I think that's enough sharing, don't you?" You pouted but didn't say anything else.

Your phone buzzed then, and you looked all around for it before you watched Nat pull it from her pocket and look at the text you'd just received."

"Alright, Magic Dick's here," she said, taking your hands in hers and hoisting you up. "Up you go."

With her help, you stumbled out of the club, only tripping over your own feet twice, which you thought was fairly impressive, given the circumstances.

Outside, Bucky was waiting for you, a stony expression on his beautiful face. God, he looked so handsome. "Magic Dick," you whispered to Nat, then burst into a fit of drunken giggles that had you tripping over yourself all over again.

Bucky was immediately at your side, taking your weight off of Nat and putting it on him.

"Well, hey there, Magic Dick," you giggled. Bucky shot Nat a look over your head.

"How much has she had to drink?" he asked her.

Nat handed the valet the claim ticket for your car. "More than she should have, that's for sure."

While you waited for the valet to bring your Sergio around, Nat leaned down to look at you. "I'm going to get in the Uber now, Pocket. Bucky's gonna take you home, alright?"

You nodded and reached out to drunkenly stroke her face. "Okay, Natty-Nat. Love you."

"Love you, too, sweetheart." She kissed your forehead and headed for the waiting Uber. Before she got in, she turned to Bucky. "Don't give her any shit tonight, okay?" she ordered before closing the door, leaving you and Bucky to wait for the car alone.

"What's going on with you tonight, Pocket?" he asked. "You haven't been acting like yourself." The car pulled up and the valet held the door open for Bucky as he slid you into the passenger seat.

"Just wanted to dance," you murmured, tilting your head sideways to look at him as he fastened your seat belt. "Makes me feel better. And then there was alcohol. Oops."

Bucky let out a sigh as he closed the passenger door and made his way around to the driver's side. He had a point; you seldom got drunk. It reminded you too much of your mother, so you only ever let yourself get a little buzzed. But tonight was a special occasion.

Bucky pulled out of the lot and onto the street. Even at the late hour, New York was still alive with activity. You leaned your head on the windowsill and watched the lights as they passed by.

"You're supposed to be on my side, you know." The words were a whisper, and you'd spoken them into the night. If he had been anyone else, he wouldn't have heard you.

But he wasn't anyone else. He was Bucky. "I am on your side, Pocket. Always."

Though it felt incredibly heavy, you turned your head to face him. He looked so beautiful driving your convertible, the lights of the city reflecting off the lines of his face, the warm night breeze tickling his hair.

"You weren't tonight." Your voice was small, reflecting every bit of the self-doubt you'd felt over the course of the evening, every ounce of the pain.

Bucky sighed, his flesh hand gripping the steering wheel of the Sergio so tightly his knuckles were white. "I don't know what you want from me, Pocket."

You let out an exhausted sigh, the beautiful drunken haze fading from your system and leaving an ache in its wake. You're stomach growled and you remembered you hadn't eaten much dinner. "Can we get something to eat," you asked him, "and go somewhere to talk?" He nodded and changed course, heading away from the Tower.

A few minutes later, he pulled the Sergio into the well-lit parking lot of a 24-hour diner. Like lightning, he was out of the car and coming around to open your door before you'd even finished fumbling with your seat belt. He reached his flesh hand down to help you step out of the car, and to your surprise, didn't let go, hold your hand as you walked into diner together. Most likely making sure you didn't drunkenly fall on your ass and embarrass him, you thought.

Inside, the perky blonde hostess gave Bucky a long, appraising look while he asked for a table in the back. Even at this time of night, the diner was bustling with patrons. The sound of chatter and clinking cutlery filled the air, competing with the soft buzz of fluorescent lights overhead. Waitstaff hurriedly made their rounds, taking orders and carrying plates with a clatter of dishes.

When you reached the back, you slid into the booth the hostess directed you to, and instead of sitting across from you, Bucky slid in next to you. The hostess handed you your menus before casting a final, lingering glance at Bucky and walked off, leaving you alone with the super soldier and not sure what exactly you were going to say to him.

You unwrapped your silverware and began playing absentmindedly with the band that had been holding your napkin in place. You could feel Bucky's eyes on you, but you didn't turn to meet his gaze until you felt the fingers of his metal hand gently reach over and brush a strand of hair away from your face.

"You wanted to talk, doll," he said, softly, "so let's talk."

You bit your lip and turned to meet his eyes, the blue of them so soft and gentle as he looked at you. "I'm not saying this to attack you, Buck," you began, gathering your thoughts, "or to try and make you feel bad, but you really made me feel like shit tonight."

He swallowed thickly, but before he could answer you, your waitress approached the booth to take your order. You ordered a chicken Caesar wrap and a glass of chocolate milk for yourself; Bucky ordered a coffee and a large basket of waffle fries.

Once the waitress had left, Bucky turned back to you, taking your hand in his metal one and lacing your fingers together. "The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you," he told you. He brought your hand to his mouth, placing a tender kiss on your knuckle. "I'm sorry. I was a dick tonight. Finding out that Jewel has the same kind of abilities as I do... it made me feel less alone, like maybe I'm not just a fucked up science experiment that went horribly wrong."

"Buck..." you began, but he continued talking.

"It doesn't excuse how I treated you tonight, but I was so eager to get to know to her, to see how she copes with it. I've only ever had Steve to talk to about it, and Steve's... well..."

"Steve's fucking Captain America," you provided, understanding now where Bucky was coming from. "The perpetual boy scout. You don't want to open up to him about the darker stuff, because you're afraid it will change how he sees you."

Bucky closed his eyes and nodded. "He's already done so much to save me from the worst parts of myself; I don't want to burden him with any more than I already have."

You cupped his jaw with your hand. "Steve loves you, Buck. He will never see you as a burden. I promise you that."

He smiled at you, but it was sad. "I already cost him so much. More than you realize, Pocket. It just felt like, with Jewel, maybe I could have someone else to discuss those parts of myself with, someone I wasn't afraid of letting down."

Your first instinct was to be hurt that he felt he couldn't share those parts of himself with you, but you realized why he wasn't able to.

As if reading your thoughts, he said: "Please don't think it means that I want to share things with her instead of you, though. That will never be the case."

"But there are things that I'll just never be able to fully understand," you supplied, "because I'm not a super soldier. I understand."

He nodded, leaning his head down until his forehead was pressed against yours. "But I don't need to be friends with her," he said. "You said she was horrible to you, and I believe you. That's not the kind of person I want in my life. You're the most important thing in the world to me. I need you to know that."

You would have sworn you felt your heart momentarily stop. More important to him than Steve? Your cheeks grew warm at the implication.

"Bucky, I never want to be the kind of person who tells you who you can or can't be friends with. If talking to her helps you process whatever you need to process, then please, do it." You nuzzled your nose against his. "Just, you know, never flirt with her in front of me again."

He pulled his head back and looked at you, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. "Doll, are you telling me you're jealous?" You made a scoffing sound and playfully pushed him away from you. You were treading dangerously close to feelings territory, and you'd only just gotten back to a good place with him; you weren't about to risk it, but you weren't going to lie to him, either.

You ran a hand through his hair, leaning closer until your lips were pressed against the shell of his ear. "You know I've never been a good girl when it comes to sharing, Bucky," you breathed before taking his earlobe into your mouth and sucking on it.

Bucky let out a low groan and shot his metal hand over to possessively grasp your upper thigh, sending a shiver through you. "Be careful, doll," he growled in the way that had you clenching your legs together, "otherwise I'm liable to bend you over this table and fuck you so hard, you won't remember your own name."

You pulled away from him. "Promises, promises," you teased.

Before Bucky could follow through on his threat, the waitress returned with your orders. Without thinking, you handed Bucky half of your wrap at the same time he deposited a generous handful of waffle fries onto your plate. Catching your eye, he gave you an amused grin, and you both burst into laughter. The tension between you two seemed to dissipate, replaced by the comfortable banter you were used to.

The conversation throughout the meal was light, ranging from random anecdotes to plans for the next day. Occasionally, Bucky would say something that made you giggle uncontrollably, causing a few patrons to give you curious glances. But he just flashed them his charming smile, making most of them blush and turn away.

After finishing your meals, you scooted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you watched the diner's activity. His arm automatically wrapped around you, pulling you closer into his side. You could hear his heart beating steadily in his chest, a soothing rhythm that made your eyes droop sleepily.

"You alright there?" Bucky asked softly, noticing your languidness. You hummed in response, too comfortable to move or open your eyes properly.

"Gettin' sleepy," you admitted as you tried to stifle a yawn. "'s been a long night."

"Then let's get you home before you turn into a pumpkin, princess." Bucky helped you out of the booth, then tucked you into his side so you could lean against him as you walked toward the counter to pay your bill. You tried to hand Bucky your Amex card, but he shooed your hand away. "I got it, doll. Least I can do after everything I put you through tonight."

You didn't argue with him, not because you didn't have the energy to, but because you knew it was his way of making amends. He settled the bill quickly, leaving a generous tip, then led you back out of the diner into the cool night air. You leaned against his sturdy form as he walked you both back to the Sergio, opening the door for you and helping you with your seat belt, despite your protests.

"I'm not that drunk anymore, Buck," you laughed as he leaned over you to click the belt into place.

"Damn it, woman, be quiet and let me take care of you!" He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before closing the door and making his way around to the driver's side.

Though the drive to the Tower wasn't very long, you quickly found yourself lulled into a comfortable stupor, your mind at peace for the first time in what what felt like weeks. You barely registered when Bucky pulled into the Tower's underground garage, or stopped to give the Sergio's keys to the night parking attendant. You were vaguely aware of him picking you up and cradling you in his arms as he carried you back to his room.

Once inside, he carefully helped you strip out of your pants and halter top and into one of his shirts. Once you'd changed, he tucked you both into his bed, curling his body against yours until you didn't know where his body ended and yours began.

"Better?" he asked, softness threading his voice. You hummed in response, half asleep as your body molded into his welcoming warmth.

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest, "Sweet dreams, doll," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he adjusted the sheets around you both. His metal arm wound under your pillow comfortably while the other rested on your waist, giving you a sense of protection that no fortress could offer.

You curled closer into him, snuggling into his broad chest like a kitten seeking warmth. His steady heartbeat and slow breathing became your lullaby, luring you closer to sleep with every second.

He stroked your hair gently as you fell off into sleep, whispering words of affection and apology into the quietness of the night.

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satoru-psych · 6 months

Text

Learning curve - Gojo Satoru x Reader (18+)

| Pairing: Gojo Satoru / Fem!Reader (afab) / F/M / Teacher! Gojo x Student! Reader.

| Tags/content: Slow burn, Teacher x Student, Age Gap, Smut, Rough sex, Oral sex, Cunnilingus, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Eventual sex, Corruption Kink, Vaginal fingering, Drinking, Mild Dub-con. Just. A lot. Of stuff. *Minors Please dni.

| Summary: Gojo takes you on as a student after the other two 3rd years get suspended. little does he know, there's an ulterior motive behind those doe eyes of yours.

*Gojo is 28, Reader is 18.

| CHAPTERS 1-4

| Next Chapter: Coming soon.

| Series Masterlist

| Word count: 15.4K

//Note: Hiiii ^_^ A few people told me I should post this on here, since it was already on my AO3, and since I just updated with the latest chap, I thought might as well post them all together since it’s not that long. I’ll be linking the next chapter once it’s up. This is actually my first ever fic so I hope you guys like, oki byeeeeee!

AO3 link.

———————————————————————————————

CHAPTER 1 (PROLOGUE): LOLLIPOP

Gojo cares for his students, he really does. He knows the cruel, heartless nature of the Jujutsu world can shatter the hearts of even the strongest, and having experienced that first hand, he vowed to never turn a blind eye again.

So he pays attention, well, as much as he can with his busy schedule, even if it means little things like remembering their favorite sweets and bringing a box, or taking them out to eat after a mission.

It brings him a sense of peace to see their smiles, a feeling in his chest akin to a blue spring.

Despite his adoration for his students, he was never the kind to favor one over the other, and since he’s started teaching he treats all his students equally. Though as much as he tried to deny it, he may or may not have a very tiny insignificant soft spot for your saccharine smiles and honey dipped voice.

Gojo was also a very busy man, missions and lessons with the 1st years taking up a majority of his time already, so he’s not entirely sure why he’s considering adding you to his list of students too. He wasn’t a teacher during your first year, but he basically treated you like one of his students anyways, albeit not as close because he wasn’t around you as much. so what harm would it be to start teaching you too right?

He stared at the email on his computer screen from Yaga, announcing that the other two 3rd years have officially been suspended and that you needed a teacher for the time-being while he sorts things out with the higher ups in regards to the suspension.

“Well, guess I can help out a little” he muttered to himself, throwing 5 cubes of sugar in his tea as he wrote back to Yaga, saying he can take you as a student effective immediately.

He sipped on it while he waited for a reply, getting one a few minutes later that reads,

“Great, meet me in my office in 30 minutes so we can discuss scheduling and paperwork.

~ Yaga”

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

“Thank you for agreeing Satoru, I know this was really short notice but Atsuya said his hands were full and Nanami has no interest in teaching”

He motioned for Gojo to sit on the sofa in his office, paperwork splayed across the small coffee table.

“But are you sure you have the time? If not I can work something else out, maybe a transfer to Kyoto-“

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be alright, what’s more one student? Her underclassmen adore her, so I’m sure they’ll be ecstatic” Gojo interrupted, twirling his pen in his hand as he stared down at the class transfer forms. “So where do I sign?

Yaga sighed, contemplating the boards decision to even make this man a teacher in the first place, while showing him where to sign and cringing at his signature. “Are you 5 years old?”

“I’ll have you know my signature is very-“

A knock on the door cuts Gojo off, he scoffs and sinks back on the couch, signing a few more papers with a childish pout as Yaga gets up to answer the door.

“Oh, Hi Yaga-san, did you find someone to teach me yet?” Your sweet voice makes Gojo’s ears perk up slightly

“Yes, come in. Gojo-san is just finishing up the paperwork but I need you to sign a few things too”

You walk in and shoot Gojo a doe eyed smile, giving a curt wave that he returns with an unusual smile of his own. The lollipop you’ve been nursing in your mouth doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and you swear you could feel his gaze for a split second under that blindfold.

“I need you to sign these papers that Gojo-san has” Yaga gestures to the coffee table, so you walk over and take a seat, a little close to Gojo but not close enough for it to be anything noticeable. But he’s more perceptive than he lets on. Still, he decides to ignore it. All you did was sit down after all.

You pick up the pen and lean forward to start signing, your hair gently falling over your face, and Gojo shoots a quick glance at you, taking in your glossed lips and the lollipop you’ve been swirling around in your mouth.

He always thought you were pretty, nothing more. So it wasn’t like he didn’t expect you to look pretty right now either.

But what he really didn’t expect is the feeling of a slight strain on uniform trousers when he saw you swirling your lollipop around.

What the fuck?

A sheer moment of panic washed over him when he felt his length throb, so in a daze he frantically grabbed some papers, putting them on his lap to hide the tent that was forming , whilst pretending like he gave two shits about whatever was written in them.

It’s only until he hears your voice again that he is snapped out of his frenzied train of thought,

“Thank you so much for taking me on, Gojo-sensei, I really appreciate it”

you stood in front of the table, giving him a shy smile and batting your eyelashes.

He straightens up, still covering his crotch with the papers and clearing his throat in an effort to compose himself, “don’t mention it, I’ll see you tomorrow then”

“Sounds great, Gojo-sensei” you waved goodbye to him and Yaga.

the way his name rolled off your tongue left a sugary sweet taste in his mouth, and for a second he wonders if it was your effortless charm or the 5 sugar cubes he downed in his tea just a little while ago.

He felt his trousers tighten again, and began to internally panic before Yaga snapped him out of it, “Ijichi-san will work out the schedules for both of you and send it out by tonight. Do let me know if something comes up and you can’t follow through”

Gojo gulps, thankful for the interruption because it’s impossible to stay even a little bit hard when Yaga speaks. But wait, why was he even hard in the first place? Surely it wasn’t cus of…

“Satoru..?” Yaga raised an eyebrow,

“Oh uh, yeah, sure thing” he stands up quickly, handing Yaga the signed papers and heads out quickly.

heading back to office he sits down, eyeing the sugar cubes that sat in a box next to his empty tea cup, and your voice lingers in his head again…

‘shit..when did she get so cute?’

He shakes the thought out of his head, telling himself it was probably just an accident, a funny little coincidence, maybe it’s because he neglected his morning wood when he woke up, ah yes that’s the one. It’s gotta be!

So he decided to call it a day, he was obviously not in his right mind today. he makes a motion of interlocking his fingers and clasping his hands together to warp into his bedroom, sighing in relief upon entering his personal space.

“Maybe I just need a nap” he takes off his jacket and slides off his blindfold, running his fingers through his snowy hair, before settling into his ridiculously expensive bed.

“Yeah…I definitely need a nap..” he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the lingering taste of sugar on his tongue.

————————————————

CHAPTER 2: RISING STEAM

The walk to your dorm room back from Yaga's office had you questioning some things. You could’ve sworn Gojo-sensei was acting a bit…. Off, you just couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Plopping down on your bed, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. The weather was getting warmer, but there was still a breeze in the air, so you decided to submit a request for a new summer uniform.

The school allowed everyone to rotate their uniforms and customize them as the seasons changed, and although you prefer practicality over fashion during combat, it wouldn't hurt to try and look a little cuter this summer. Your motive behind this was totally not the fact that you were Gojo's new student. you would never try to seduce your teacher or anything like that. duh.

You typed in your measurements, moving on to the design, your usual choice of a hooded-romper uniform came to mind, maybe you'd modify it to be sleeveless? maybe you'd make it a two piece suit? A different coloured collar?

As you began to visualize your options, an email notification came in, it was your updated schedule for the next 3 weeks from Ijichi, with Gojo CC'd into the email, it contained an average class and mission spread, nothing too exciting, but what caught your eye was that two of your upcoming missions were going to be supervised by Gojo. you weren't sure why but you sure as hell weren't going to protest..Impulsively filling out the rest of the tailoring form with a not-so-subtle smirk plastered on your face, you made sure to choose pickup instead of delivery so you could collect it after your mission tomorrow, and what you were going to pay towards the delivery fee can now go towards a new lipgloss…perfect.

You started on your bedtime routine and your mind wandered. This new schedule was giving you a prime opportunity to get to know Gojo-sensei better! Especially since he’ll be accompanying you on a couple of your missions. That's a nice thing to do right? find some common ground and have deep meaningful conversations with each other. Yes, that's exactly your goal here, nothing else.

Maybe you could pester your underclassmen about it when they're back from their mission, but for the time being you've put on your investigation cap and opened up a social media app while brushing your teeth.

He was ridiculously easy to find, given that all you had to do was search up his name and the user @Gojothestrongest1 came up, making you roll your eyes. there was however the obstacle of him having a private account which you definitely did not foresee.. he seemed like the kind of guy that would show off and flaunt any chance he got so this was definitely strange, and you wouldn’t be caught dead requesting to follow him online the same day he got appointed as your new teacher, that’s too weird right?

Maybe you need to sleep on it, you have an early start to your day and an evening mission tomorrow, plus you’ll be picking up your new uniform after, so you want to be well rested.

You spat out the toothpaste, observed the saliva-mixed white liquid in the sink, mind wandering back to Gojo-sensei for no particular reason, and you giggled.

Though what started as a simple everyday bedtime routine ended up manifesting into what you could only describe as some sort of self care ritual, cleanse, tone, moisturize, scrub your lips, shower and shave every inch of your body, apply body oil, this is totally your everyday routine.. Finally you slid into some comfy pajamas and headed back to bed to get some shut eye.

—-----------------------------

Birds chirping can be heard faintly through the sound of your sliding glass windows, morning dew settles on the glass and you wake up feeling like today is gonna be a good day. Though the morning is uneventful, you go about your school day like normal, classes in the morning and sparring in the afternoon, you did some hand to hand with Yuji which left you with a bruised left shoulder and hip hone, which he apologized very profusely for afterwards, even promising to buy you tickets for his wormo-man movie , but you feel okay enough to go on your mission this evening, it’s reported to be a grade 2 curse in the family section of a run-down fast food joint that likes to hide in the playground. Cute.

It’s in a dodgy part of town but your missions were always in…questionable places anyways. It’s unlikely that a curse would manifest at a nice botanical garden or an artsy modern museum, so roughing it out was something you grew accustomed to.

Car tires screech against the curb, window rolling down to show Ijichi, you wave at him and he he greets you back “good evening, the mission site isn’t too far away so let’s head there now” he smiles and unlocks the car for you to get in, so you sling your bag across your shoulder and climb inside.

“I’m sorry, I have a meeting with the principal later, I won’t be able to collect you after your mission is complete so I’ll send Nitta-san.” he semi-bows strangely while driving. Who bows while driving?

Perfect.

“Oh that’s okay, Ijichi-san, you don’t have to bother Nitta-san, I’ll figure it out by myself” you shoot him a smile through the rearview mirror.

“But i’m not allowed to leave the students alo-”

“I said don’t worry, Ijichi-san. I’ll be fine” you interrupt.

He sighs but ultimately agrees, muttering something under his breath about how he’s not paid enough for this. The rest of the car ride is silent apart from the radio news channel that Ijichi seems to be invested in.

Once he drops you off you head towards the dingy looking building, arms stretched upwards in a tired sigh to stretch your sore muscles, “let’s get this over with”

An eerie bell jingle fills the atmosphere when you swing the doors open, the place is surprisingly not dirty, just very run down. The painted children’s characters on the walls are chipped away leaving them with deformed faces, booth cushions are sunken in and appear lumpy, and the counter is littered with fallen stacks of paper menus and coupons. The curse was doing a solid job of hiding its presence so far, but you could see the faint aura surrounding its footprints that lead into the playground, so you follow them carefully, keeping your guard up as you pass through the door frame.

From the back the curse looks like a child, about 6-9 years old, cowering inside the ball pit with its freakishly humanoid hands wrapped around its knees. It had long matted hair that looked neglected, but when it turned around revealing its face to you, you audibly gagged.

Sunken eyes that resembled two voids on its face were housing what looked to be tens of bugs, it lacked a nose but had a vertical mouth with tight sutures holding the pale rotted flesh together that began to rip and ooze this black-ish blood as it gave a feeble attempt at speaking,

“M….m….ma..ma…………..mama………p-p…..pa….papa….?” it repeated, like a broken record. Great, an abandoned child curse with bug infested eyes, no way in hell were you gonna let that thing get within five feet of you. Jumping a few steps back, you pulled a vial out of your utility belt containing an amaranthine purple liquid, and discreetly unscrewed the top, using your technique to manipulate a thread like stream of it towards the curse, allowing it to trickle into the ballpit, slowly forming a puddle.. Drip, drop, drip, drop, drip, drop..

There was no hostility in the air, although you had a feeling in your gut telling you that any wrong move or sound could warrant an attack, so you didn’t want to risk it.

Still taking calculated steps back while trying to maintain a steady stream, you still when you hear a squeak as the back of your heel comes in contact with a toy basketball, “shit” you mutter under your breath, head shooting up immediately to see the curse standing up at its full height, but it stopped its yapping now. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Sweat trickles down the side of your face, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand with goosebumps on the surface of your skin, and before you have a chance to react the curse lets out a visceral scream, lunging towards you with pure killing intent.

Your feet move on their own, just barely getting you out of line for the hit, but the curse manages to land a momentary blow on your bruised left shoulder, you hiss in pain, clutching your shoulder and sprinting into the ballpit.

The curse is fast but you evade it’s attempt to strike you again, causing it to land in the ballpit with you, it tries to reach you but the balls hinder its movements slightly, allowing you to manipulate the small puddle you trickled into the ballpit earlier, you coated a couple of balls in the liquid, imbuing the liquid surrounding them with your cursed energy and shooting one at the curse.

One lands against its abdomen, making it brutally cough up more of that black-ish blood through its mouth sutures, another scream pierces your eardrums and this time the curse rips through the threads binding its mouth closed, and you utilize this prime opportunity to launch the second ball into that bloody abyss of a mouth, it hits the back of the curses’ throat and you manipulate the liquid once more to trickle down its throat.

The curse attempts to resist, coughing out spurts of the blood-mixed cyanide you just savagely forced down its throat, it comes out of the eyes, forcing the bugs to crawl out of the void and into the curses’ hair in an attempt to seek refuge. Its unsightly, sour bile rises in the back of your throat and you swallow it down as you watch the curse asphyxiate, falling onto the blood splattered balls with its hands around its neck, trying desperately to breathe.

You almost feel bad for it, you can’t stand to look at it die so slowly anymore so you pull out a small cursed knife tool you keep on you, and chuck it through its frontal lobe. Then the silence hits, the curse disintegrates into mere particles and you make a move to pick the knife up. At the corner of your eye you spot a small window, you tuck the knife back into your utility belt and walk in its direction.

Outside the window there’s a peculiar looking building, you squint your eyes to read the sign, and you sigh, it’s a school for orphaned children..Your heart pangs in your chest for a split second as you remember yourself as an orphaned child…No, this is no time for emotions…

“Fuck them kids..” the words escape your faded glossed lips in a quiet mumble, with no real bite behind them, as you pad out of the restaurant into the somber street. You’re tired, your shoulder feels even more sore now, so you postponed picking up your new uniform..fishing your phone out of your pocket you dial Gojo-sensei’s number.

“Hello?” He picks up on the second ring, he must have been on his phone.

“Hello, Gojo-sensei? Can you come pick me up? I just finished a mission and Ijichi is in a meeting” Your voice comes out shaky, unintentionally.

“Where are you? Send me the location, are you hurt?” His tone is soft, it makes you feel tingly inside..

“I’m fine, sensei.. My shoulder is just a bit bruised up..” you gulp, why do you feel nervous right now?

“Stay where you are, i’ll be there soon” he hangs up, making a beeline to his car, still in his casual clothes. He had been lounging at home when you called, his next mission wasn’t til tomorrow afternoon so he had some rare time off for himself, but he couldn’t help but feel worried for you now, he’ll have to scold Ijichi later for leaving you all alone..after all, he does care very deeply for his students.

The sound of his motor revving fills the parking lot of his snobby rich people apartment complex, and he goes out into the night, location displayed on the screen of his luxurious car that he seldom drives.

It only takes around 10 minutes for him to reach your street, it was a quiet night and few cars littered the roads. You perk up as soon as you see him park in front of you, you hear a small click signaling that he unlocked the door, and you climb into the passenger seat, it’s comfy and spacious, fit for a princess..

“Hey, how are you feeling? Was the mission okay?” he turns towards you and you make brief eye contact over his circular glasses.

Your eyes rake over his frame and his exposed arms in a short-sleeved white tee as they flex inadvertently while he makes a U-turn. He notices you zoning out but he doesn't pay it any mind.

“Oh, uh, I’m alright, Sensei..the mission was fine, nothing I can’t handle” your words come with a grin, which he returns with a genuine one himself,

“I never doubted you, well done” the sincerity in his words mixed with his slightly hushed voice burns a pit in your lower abdomen and you inhale deeply to calm yourself down. You thank him and stare out the window, trying to distract yourself, you’re too tired to converse too deeply, despite how badly you want to.

The sight of neon signs and street lights fills your heavy lidded eyes, and you’re on the verge of sleeping when the car comes to a halt at a red light, you scan your surroundings once more and your eyes widen when you spot a sign for a private onsen. Perfect.

“Gojo-sensei!” you turn to him, excited.

“Yeah?” he smiles at you.

“Can you take me to that onsen? I feel really beat up, I could use a dip in a hot spring..” you sigh, pressing your hand to your bruised shoulder.

He hums and makes a turn onto the street, parking his car in front of the building and taking out some crisp looking notes from his wallet to hand to you,

“For the entry fee, I can pick you up when you’re done” he smiles, you take the money and pocket it, that won’t do.

“Huh? What do you mean? You’re not coming in with me?” you feign innocent confusion, and you can almost hear the gears turn in his head when he asks “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you went with Megumi and Yuji a few weeks ago, right? So why don’t you wanna go with me?” your indifference while asking him a question like that has him sweating bullets in 20 degree weather.

“Isn’t that kind of…” he gulps “..weird?” and you frown,

“Why would it be weird? It’s the same as being in a public onsen. Don’t you wanna relax too, sensei?” you shrug oh-so-casually, and he sits there for a second, pondering it seems..

‘She’s right…why am I overthinking this?’ He straightens up and shoots you a coy smile, “sure, I guess I do.. Let’s go then”,

Suppressing your smirk was no easy task, especially after pulling that off, you expected him to downright refuse, so now you have to go along with a whim you weren’t even sure was gonna play out.. Deep breaths, in, out, in, out… The car door opening startles you, when did he get there? But you clear your throat and step out, walking alongside him to the entrance of the building. There are a few vending machines that stock green tea and water outside, and the reception area is small and dimly lit.

After the fees are paid you are both shown to your private onsen, it’s overlooking a rock garden with bamboo fencing sectioning it off from the other springs, next to the door was a small shower booth, along with a rack full of unscented body wash and thin white towels. You make the first move, shedding your bag and shoes and leaving them by the door,

“Can I shower first? I’m dying to get in that water” you pout dramatically and he chuckles, but it comes out tense,

“Sure, go ahead, I’ll turn around so you can change..” and he does so immediately, facing the wall which in turn also hides his slightly blushed cheeks. “ Stop it, she’s your student. This isn’t a big deal..” he internally scolds himself, he feels conflicted, part of him wants to back out and leave, but technically, there’s nothing inherently wrong about being in an onsen with your student, he’s done it before like you said…It’s not like he got a raging boner when he saw you with a lollipop yesterday…’wait, no, that was because I ignored my morning wood, yes! I’m not a pervert!’ but his train of thoughts is derailed when he hears you coming out of the shower, your damp footsteps echoing on the floor, then he hears your dulcet voice calling out to him,

“Your turn, Gojo-sensei!” you watch as his tall figure turns around, expression unreadable behind his pitch-black glasses but you can sense his gaze on your towel clad body. He clears his throat and you take that as a hint to turn away, giving him the same privacy he gave you, despite the overwhelming urge to see him undress..you dip your foot into the steamy water, then your leg, entering with a sigh as the warmth engulfs your body, ridding you of a majority of today’s fatigue. Smooth rocks press against your skin as you lean back, getting comfortable, but you wince when your left shoulder brushes against the rock wall, so you tilt your head the opposite way and begin to massage the soreness away.

Gojo exits the shower booth with a towel wrapped around his waist, skin damp from the water and steam and the first thing he sees is the side of your pretty figure, wincing in pain as you massage your bruised shoulder, your towel was thin, clinging to you like a second skin, and his eyes subconsciously trace over the curve of your brea-

He clears his throat, determined not to let any sort of twisted thoughts plague his mind right now. The sound makes you turn to his direction, and your jaw nearly drops. Gojo-sensei was standing a few feet away from you, abs and chest muscles glistening, skin dewy with steam and staring at you through his glasses whilst you’re both clad in thin white towels.. fuck, you have to play your cards right. So you feign innocence once more, smiling softly at him and beckoning for him to come in, spewing some bullshit about how great the water feels, when the only thing on your mind at this moment is how great he would feel.

He settles into the water and you go back to massaging your shoulder, and it's as if a lightbulb went off in your head at that very second, so you pretend to struggle, groaning in frustration because you just can’t massage yourself right… and he feels bad, you’re in pain and he’s just sitting there watching, what kind of sensei would he be if he just let you stay in your sorry state when you should be relaxing? So he turns off his brain for a moment and calls out to you,

“Do you..need a hand?” he asks softly, not wanting it to sound wrong, and you bite your cheek to suppress your smile again.

“Yeah, please, sensei..” you reply with a groan, turning so that your back faces him now, “it’s really sore..I can’t bear it..” you dramatize your words. And before you know it his large hands are on your skin, he’s close enough that you can hear his breath and it makes goosebumps rise under his fingertips but he doesn’t comment on it, instead focusing on relieving his poor little student of all her unbearable pain…

His hands are practiced, experienced, he presses into your sore spots with the right amount of pressure, making you whimper and breathe shakily, which he tries his absolute hardest to ignore, to tune out, you don’t sound cute to him right now, you’re just in pain…that’s right…he’s not on the verge of losing his composure if you keep whimpering so close to him while his hands press into your ridiculously soft skin…”Focus, Satoru..” his internal voice screams at him.

But your mmh’s and ahh’s are deliberate, and they’re working. However it’s getting increasingly difficult to deal with the situation between your legs. Your thighs have been pressed together for what feels like hours now, yearning for some sort of friction, some sort of relief , and all logic flies out the window when you decide to trace your fingers up your thigh, inching your towel up slowly and discreetly, and it’s when you slide a finger against your slit that you gasp, nearly squealing at how sticky and good it felt, this startles Gojo, prompting him to ask, “are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine, sensei…just, don’t stop…the soreness is going away” you lie through frenzied breaths, all he did was gulp and continue his ministrations. He was probably under the impression that he was helping you out, which technically he was, just not in the way that he thinks right now..poor sensei..

Your middle finger teases your folds under the towel, dipping into your slit to gather the strings of wetness and coming back up to brush lightly against your neglected clit, the feeling of his skilled hands on your body, and your fingers on your most sensitive parts is erotic, you feel light-headed at the gentle stimulation you’re giving yourself, meanwhile Gojo seems like he has his head in the clouds, hands moving on their own as he tries to distract himself enough so that he doesn’t accidentally get aroused again. He hasn’t even noticed or commented on your obscene act, you were either really good at hiding it, or he was just too focused on not focusing on you that it just went unnoticed.

Either way, you’re winning, your pointer finger joins your middle in tracing feather-light circles around your clit, pinching it lightly between the tips which has you biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, the metallic taste lingers on your tongue as your fingers pick up the pace slightly, alternating between figure eight’s and circles, going down to tease at your entrance, you’re floating, before you knew it the familiar knot twists in your stomach and suppressing your moans is starting to hurt. Your fingers lose their rhythm, no longer tracing practiced shapes, as you desperately fight to push yourself to that edge, in the most quiet way possible.

Euphoria washes over you in waves, starting from your core and spreading down into your toes, you’re breathing so heavily you could fill up an air mattress, rubbing lightly at your now swollen nub as you ride out, possibly, the most silent and scandalous orgasm you’ve ever had.

“Are you..” he coughs “are you okay? You’re uh…breathing really heavy” his voice is hoarse, he sounds…Troubled.

“Y-yeah…thank you, Gojo-sensei…that was a great..massage..” you don’t mean to pause before saying massage, but he picks up on it, his hands leave your skin and you suddenly feel cold, despite the steam surrounding your body,

“We should probably um, leave…now.” he sounds dazy, something’s definitely up with him but he’s not saying, you didn’t feel his eyes on you while you were… helping yourself out ..so it can’t be that.

He stands up, clutching his towel around his waist and steps out of the water, frantically grabbing his clothes, muttering something about needing the restroom and to meet him at the car, and he’s gone like the wind.. You shrug, feeling satisfied with what just happened so you step out of the water too, changing back into your uniform and loitering outside while you wait for Gojo-sensei, scrolling through some random social media feed..

—---------------------------------

Gojo all but breaks the restroom door down, clawing his way into a stall with the most painful boner he’s had since his late teens, he slams a fist into the wall and it cracks under his knuckles, “what the fuck just happened? Was she fucking touching herself?” The truth is, he noticed it right away, from the moment you pressed your pretty round thighs together a little too hard, he has the fucking six eyes, of course he noticed. But he ignored it, like a good sensei would, maybe he was just projecting his perverse inner thoughts onto you, his sweet innocent student, as delicate as a flower…you’d never do something that corrupt..But you did…you did? You touched yourself that way while he was massaging your shoulder and yet he still ignored it…why? He doesn’t know.

Maybe part of him wants to give you the benefit of the doubt here, maybe you were just…itchy? Yeah, that’s reasonable. Way more reasonable than his sweet doe eyed student cumming while he massaged her. There's no way. There's no way. You would never…you were too innocent..too sweet..he’s just a pervert. Fuck, he’s a pervert.

Even if you truly didn’t do that, the mere thought of it had him rock hard in the palm of his hand, fisting his leaky red tip with his forehead pressed against the cold tile of the wall, in a measly attempt to ground himself. “Stop it, Satoru…Fuck..” his internal voice blaring at him like an alarm, red and loud, telling him his thoughts are reducing him into a low-life pervy scum that shouldn’t be allowed within twenty feet of a woman.

He shouldn’t think this way, he shouldn’t be this way, he shouldn’t act this way, he’s the strongest fucking sorcerer, why is he in a single restroom stall fantasizing about his students’ warm, wet pussy right now? She didn’t even do anything, he’s the pervert here. It’s his fault for thinking of her that way. He should feel horrible, he should feel ashamed.

He’s so fucked..

He tucks his still-hard cock into his boxers, throwing the rest of his clothes on and taking deep breaths as he walks to where the car was parked. If there’s one thing Gojo Satoru knows how to do, it’s mask how he’s feeling, so he plasters on his most nonchalant smile, opening the car door for you and swallowing the saliva he didn’t know had built up in his throat. The drive back was silent, there was an unspoken tension so thick you could barely hear the faint music of his playlist over it, before you know it you’re in front of the dorm building in Jujutsu High.

You turn to Gojo-sensei and he smiles at you, bidding you goodnight and you lean in and give him a slight side hug, which makes his sleepy eyes shoot open, you whisper in his ear, “Goodnight, Gojo-sensei…see you tomorrow..”, and then you’re gone, walking off in the distance to your room, and he buries his face in palms, “you’re making this a problem, she was just saying goodnight…what’s gotten into you, Satoru?” he shakes his head at his thoughts, driving back home in total silence, not in the mood for music.

You go about your routine as normal, cheeks blushed and body on fire, you’re replying to a text from Maki when a notification rolls in..

“@Gojothestrongest1 has requested to follow you”

——————————————————

CHAPTER 3: MASQUERADE

‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god? Gojo-sensei requested to follow me? Right after what just happened at the onsen?’ your thoughts blare at you like a broken car horn, why is he doing it NOW of all times?

Could it be that he felt something for you? He did offer to massage you after all..but the car ride said otherwise.. He felt tense.

This is completely normal right? The rest of the students follow him so this isn’t a big deal. But if you accept it now you’ll seem desperate, which of course you are, but you can’t make it that obvious. You have to keep him on his toes, he followed you, so maybe you should wait a day or two.

Your phone bounces on the edge of the bed where you throw it, staring up at the ceiling with a heat in your cheeks that matches the one burning in your core, this means you have a chance right?

He could have refused your onsen offer, maybe he didn’t give it much thought, but he still could have taken you to any other one, there were a few in the area that were separated by gender, and he knows that. So surely he wants you a little bit right?

The thought of him potentially wanting you the same way you want him has you kicking your feet up, almost like you have a little school girl crush. Then it hits you. You are a school girl. You do have a crush. A big one at that. Maybe you’re too far in your own delusions right now, fantasizing about a man 10 years older than you, but something in your gut tells you to grab your running shoes and chase those delusions at full speed.

It’s the weekend tomorrow so you’ll have plenty of time to delude yourself into thinking he’s into you, so you hug your pillow and drift away for the night.

—-----------------------------

“Hey- ouch! That hurts!” you exclaim, bringing your hand down to massage your poor inner thigh that is currently being stretched way past it’s limit

“Your combat has been shit lately, so shut up and stretch” Maki rolls her eyes pushing further down on your shoulders so you sink deeper into the splits “It’s not even that bad. Baby”

“Urgh, how nice of you to call your senpai that while t-torturing her,” you groan in response, “But I think you’re getting me mixed up with your overseas boyfr- OUCH!” She cuts you off with a smack on the head.

“First of all, I wasn’t calling you a pet name, I was calling you a baby. It was an insult, and second, he’s not my boyfriend” she scoffs, plopping down on her own yoga mat next to yours, giving a slight chuckle when she sees your pained expression as you maneuver your way out of the hellish stretch to a more normal sitting position.

“Aw, long distance not working out?” you tease, watching her cheeks grow red which she tries to mask with a hand on her face and furrowed eyebrows, ‘cute’ You think to yourself, as you take a sip from your water bottle, nearly choking when she points her middle finger at you. “That’s no way to treat your elders, you know” you smirk.

“Maybe if said elder wasn’t a bitch, I would respect her more” she jabs, stifling a laugh when you exaggerate your gasp, putting a show of putting your hand on your heart to show how offended you are.

“Damn, kids these days” you shake your head, laying back down on the silicone on your mat and staring up at the crows perched on top of the tree you’re using for shade.

“Oh shut up” she laughs, grabbing her phone and scrolling through her socials, she visibly cringes all of a sudden and sighs, “That blindfolded idiot doesn’t know how to post just one picture does he?”, which catches your attention.

“What was that?” you turn your head to the side to look at her, to which she answers

“Just Satoru making it everyone’s problem that he can’t decide on a suit. I swear whoever put this old man on social media is gonna have to pa- hey!” She’s cut off by you lunging for her phone, grabbing hold of the device to feast your eyes on the sight that is Gojo Satoru’s instagram story of him at an expensive looking suit shop.

You click through what feels like over fifty mirror selfies of him with various suits on, you can’t see his face but you can see the side of his sharp jawline and his mess of white hair, ‘he must not be wearing his blindfold because it looks softer than usual, fuck. He looks good.’

“Um, hello? What was that about?” Maki questions, taken aback at your sudden brashness.

“Do you know where he’s going?” You ignore her and question back eagerly, looking up at her with a devious sparkle in your eyes that she’s never seen before.

“Uhh, some masquerade ball at this hotel in Roppongi, apparently Nanami had bought himself a ticket a while back but he can’t go anymore so he gave it to Satoru. He’s been blabbing all week about he’s gonna come back as a ‘Refined gentleman’ and how he’ll ‘Give Nanami a run for his money’ from it” She explains, making finger quotes while trying not to visibly cringe, “Why do you wanna know anyways?” She raises an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, no reason” You toss her phone back to her, averting her suspicious gaze as you stand back up and begin to roll your yoga mat up.

“You’re going already? It’s barely noon” Her eyebrow raises again, trying to spot an ounce of bullshit in your words, you simply shrug and pick your things up, smiling down at her to say “I have a date, gotta go get ready, though you wouldn’t know about that 'cus your love life is like your cursed energy” you poke your tongue out at her and she laughs in disbelief.

“You really are a bitch!” She shouts at you while you walk back to the dorms.

“Love you toooooo!” You shout back, grateful you were able to evade her suspicions, you think.

—-----------------------------

You practically run out the door the second you change out of your sweaty active wear, not bothering to hop in the shower, you’ll do it later anyways. Jujutsu high was a fair distance away from the city center so that gives you plenty of time to phone up some hotels in Roppongi to ask about this alleged masquerade ball.

You have a few stops left on the bus before you get to the shopping district, It was one you frequented so you know the shops well, you dial the next hotel on the list while staring out the window, sighing as a knot twist in your stomach, 'this is probably futile, I’ve called so many already..'

Mentally preparing yourself for yet another fail, when you ask about the ball, but to your surprise the person on the other end of the phone answers,

“Yes we are hosting an anonymous masquerade ball tonight from 7, Tickets can be purchased for the drinks bar but the ball itself is free to attend!”

'Finally! Wait..did he say'..” Anonymous?” you question, to which the worker explains that one of the rules was to refrain from sharing any personal information about oneself, including names. Interesting, must explain the whole mask thing.

The bus comes to a stop and you hop off, striding down the busy streets to this dress shop you heard Nobara rave about a few weeks ago, it was fancy, way more than you could afford right now, but you’re already making unwise decisions, so will it really hurt to add financial ones to the list?

Probably, but all you can really think of now is how to dress to attract, you're no stranger to balls, you’ve attended a handful with your parents as a child, but that was before the… Nope. Not today.

Clearing your throat, you step into the shop, eyeing the racks of couture dresses and shoes to match, you feel the materials, occasionally pulling one off the rails and holding it to your body in the mirror to contemplate,

“Can I help you with something, miss?” A saleswoman calls out to you, waving politely from behind you, you turn around to speak,

“Oh, I’m actually going to a ball tonight, a masquerade.. Do you happen to have any masks here?” You explain.

“You’re in the right place! Masks and accessories are on the floor above, would you like me to lead you there?” She smiles, and you nod, eager to see the options as it all finally starts to come together in your head, you’re that much closer..

You follow her with a nervous smile, still holding on to that last dress you pulled off the rail, she takes you up the elevator, leading you to a lavish looking accessory room. You’re browsing the seemingly endless options of masks and jewellery when she suddenly cuts in,

“Um, I couldn’t help but notice, the dress you picked out is a dark navy..Are you a fan of the color blue?” She questions, you look down at the silk dress draped over your arm. Blue, huh?

“I guess you could say so? I mostly picked this out for the shape and the material, why do you ask?” You smile back, curious to hear what she has to say.

“Well..If you’re set on that option, I would suggest that you pair it with something like this..” She approaches with a black box in her hands, inside it is a Venetian style mask, decked with silver trimmings and crystals, in a piercing shade of blue…a very familiar piercing shade of blue..

You can’t help the chuckle that leaves your mouth in disbelief, this is golden , what are the odds?

“I’ll take it. And the dress. And the matching pumps.” You grin, despite the ridiculous amount of money you’ll have to cough up, you can’t miss out on this.

The saleswoman triumphantly guides you to the cash register after grabbing your size in the dress and heels. You try to seem nonchalant when she rings you up, but you can practically hear the faint screams of your bank account when you swipe your card to pay. No wonder Nobara only shops with Gojo’s Card..

—-----------------------------

“Champagne?” A server approaches with a tray,

“Oh, No thank you” You politely decline, you’ve been here for an hour already and there’s no sign of Gojo-sensei anywhere.. It's starting to get busier by the minute, but you aren’t giving up now, not after spending an ungodly amount of money and time getting ready. A few attendants compliment you, more notably, your mask, you opted for a subtle makeup look, focusing on your eyes to make them prominent under the mask.

Nobody can tell who you are even if they try, the mask covers the top half of your face, and your hair is done up rather than being worn down. You look different. Hopefully different enough to the point where a certain white haired man won’t recognise you.

Speaking of white hair, your heart skips out of your chest when you see a flash of it towering over the countless heads in the crowd. He’s here. Gulping, you decide to follow as he makes his way to the bar, he chats with the bartender for a minute, you can’t hear him over the music but you can finally see him properly.

Slicked back hair, a black and gold phantom mask, and an all black suit and tie. Holy fuck, he looks alluring.

You’re too engrossed in his ridiculously attractive face to notice the flock of women that begin to surround him, all too nervous to make the first move, yet for some reason he pays them no mind, simply opting to lean against the bar and take large sips of his overly fruity cocktail while crowd watching. He finishes his drink relatively fast, motioning for the bartender to make him another, and you decide to approach him.

His eyes land on you the second you infiltrate the busy bar area, breath hitching when he realises you’re about to talk to him. Truth is, he spotted you moments after he walked in, your cursed energy was practically seeping out from how nervous you are. He thought it may be a coincidence until you start following him, and now approaching him, before he has time to collect his thoughts properly, you’re draping yourself over the counter, arms crossing over it as you peer up at him through your blue mask and long eyelashes.

He glances down at you from the side, sipping on his cocktail and masking his nerves with a trademark smirk, “Hm? What have we here? Can I help you, pretty girl?” He tries not to stare down the curve of your breasts where the dress dips, but from where he towers over you it’s inevitable…

“Maybe, I just happened to spot a handsome stranger all by himself so I thought I’d keep him company” You smirk back, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, making him chuckle. ‘Stranger, huh?’ He thinks.

“I’m honoured” He grins, taking yet another large sip of his cocktail, “Any reason you chose me out of all the men here?” his eyebrow rises with the question.

“Why do you ask?” You question back, to which he lightly sighs, ditching the cocktail straw and chugging the rest of the tall glass in one go.

“Hm, I don’t know, I just thought I seemed a little old for you..” He answers, silently praying you’ll give up your flirtatious antics and move on to the next man. But all you do is bat your eyelashes at him with an innocent smile before saying,

“Not that I know how old you are, but..” You stand on you tip toes, leaning over his shoulder to whisper in his ear “What if I like it that way?”

You don’t miss the way his grip on the counter tightens, splintering the wood under his nails, and for a moment you linger, breathing against the shell of his ear, waiting for him to break the silence but he doesn’t.

His mind runs a mile a minute, he shouldn’t have had any to drink, 'fuck, i’m a lightweight'.

The mix of alcohol and conflicting emotions he’s feeling for you since the night before at the onsen is stirring his head up.

Surely you know it’s him, right? But why would you knowingly approach your teacher and say that? No. You would never. If you knew it was him, you would have said so. Maybe he’s reading too deep into this. He was wearing a mask after all.

Before he has the chance to respond, you brush your lips against his earlobe, leaving a faint lipstick stain as you whisper once more, “meet me in the bathrooms outside the main hall”, Disappearing into the crowds with a pounding in your chest, equal to the one in his pants right now.

'So she doesn’t know. She thinks I'm just some stranger. Why does she want me to meet her there? Wait, don’t be stupid, Satoru. You know exactly why. Fuck. Should I do it? What would your reaction be if you found out you just flirted with your teacher? You would be mortified…right…?'

He sighs deeply, staring at the door to the bathrooms, how the fuck did he even get here?

'Should I go in? I mean, I’m already here. Might as well, right? Maybe she just wants to talk..yeah..talk..' He tries to reason with himself.

With shaky hands, he pushes the door open, stepping in to find you sitting on the sink counter, patiently tapping your nails on the ceramic. The side slit in your dress fell to the side, exposing your crossed legs to him. Your head shoots towards the door and you smile, turning your body slightly to face the door,

“You came” You jump off the sink to stand at your full height, waiting patiently for his next move with a glint in your eyes behind the mask.

He’s trying, he’s really trying to hold himself back, but the alcohol stirring his head up, and the way you’re looking at him like you’re famished, and the fact that you apparently don’t know that it’s him.. He’s seconds away from breaking.

'She’ll never know, right? Fuck’

He’d be a horrible person for doing this, but he wants you so badly right now. If it wasn’t for the liquid courage he would have never found himself here in the first place.

Click, clack, your heels echo as you make your way towards him, reaching one arm behind his back to lock the door and the other arm around his neck, pulling him inches away from your face, your heart is racing, you feel like you’re about to faint if he doesn’t kiss you right now.

Staring into his eyes, your lip quirks up into a half smirk to say “So..?” in a challenging tone, and he breathes in sharply through his nose.

'She’ll never know, right?.'

'Fuck it.'

His lips smash against your own in desperation, you move in tandem with him as he brings his hands down to your waist and backs you up to the sink again. The edge pokes at your lower back and you squeal when he hoists you up with no effort to sit you down, never once separating his lips from yours.

Your bodies are on fire, the rush you both have from knowing how wrong it is to be doing this is only serving to amplify the lust and attraction, you moan into his mouth and he groans, pulling back and breathing so heavily that you start to wonder, 'is he okay?'

Though your mind only falters for a split second, as his lips are back on yours in an instant, licking your bottom lip 'til you grant him access, he slips his tongue into your mouth and just when it’s starting to get heated, he pulls away, you see a look of uncertainty flash across his face and he drops his head down to kiss at your jaw instead,

His lips trail down the side of your jaw down to your neck, he bites at your sweet spot, and your mind blanks when he sucks at it lightly and runs his tongue across it, you can’t help the moans that escape your lips. His breath stutters when he hears your pretty voice, hands trailing down the sides of your waist, sliding to your lower back, and grazing the curve of your ass lightly, he brings his lips closer to yours again, brushing against them as you pant against him.

“Please, just touch me already..” you plead, voice laced with a desperation he just can’t deny right now.

So he slots himself between your legs, brushing his hands up and down the tops of your thighs, slowly opening your legs up for him and you shudder when the cool air hits your most sensitive parts. Taking one of his hands and cupping your heat, he expects to find the damp fabric of your panties, but is instead met with the slick dripping off your bare pussy, he groans in surprise, length twitching in his suit trousers when he feels you hot and wet against his palm,

“Shit, no panties huh?” He smirks, surprising himself with how into this he is when says, “Kind of feels like you planned this, pretty girl”. You whimper in response, grinding your hips into his hand and he grabs your hip to stop you.

“Use your words. What do you want, hm?” He asks, biting at your neck again.

Your mind is so hazy you can barely form a sentence, still in disbelief that you’re actually here right now, spreading your legs for none other than Gojo-Sensei, and he doesn’t even know it's you.

Through frenzied breaths you manage to choke out, “F-fingers..I want your fingers..please..” And he bites his lip so hard he starts to taste metal. 'So polite, so cute and needy, you don’t even know who you’re begging right now..This is so fucked, but i’m already here. Might as well finish what I started right?'

A long finger teases your folds, dipping into your heat for a split second and pulling back out to trace feather light circles over your clit.

You’re dying at this point, head tipping down to nuzzle into the crook of his neck as you whine, begging “please, please, do something..” you shudder, and he rubs a hand along your back soothingly.

“Shh, I got you, baby.. Only ‘cus you asked so nicely..” He coos, sliding his middle finger inside you to the base of his knuckle, and you gasp, his fingers are so much bigger than yours, and that’s only one..

He starts to slide it out slowly, pushing it back in with a curl to prod at that spongy spot that has you gripping his bicep and digging your nails into it, “Right there?” He adds another finger, curling them up at your G-spot again, and you nod frantically, moaning so sweetly for him while he stretches your impossibly tight cunt.

For a short while, it drowns out any stray thoughts about morals or about this being wrong.. All he cares about right now is your sweet little pussy, dripping all over his fingers and squeezing him for dear life. 'You’ll need way more prep if you’re going to take my cock..Fuck, if you’re this tight around my fingers then..'

His groans and your moans fill the atmosphere, along with the lewd squelching of your arousal as he finger fucks you, hard. He brings his other hand forward to slide your dress straps down, freeing your breasts, he’s quick to bring his head down, placing open mouthed kisses all over and in the valley between them, he then latches his lips onto one of your nipples, peering up at you through his phantom mask, never letting up his pace with his fingers.

Your eyes meet and he bites down lightly, causing you to arch your back and furrow your brows, “Fuck, fuck, fuck… ”, and he chuckles when he feels you start to clamp down on his fingers,

“Sensitive? Are you close, baby?” He whispers, tweaking your other nipple with his fingers, and you nod again, throwing your head back against the sink mirror as you near your release, and he knows it, he feels it.

“Cum for me, pretty girl, go on, make a mess for me”, He breathes against your mouth, just barely brushing his lips against yours but not kissing them, and your coil snaps, you moan loudly as you come down from your high, thighs shaking uncontrollably, this is your first orgasm that wasn’t self induced. And it was given to you by Gojo-Sensei..Your mind feels so foggy..

His fingers slow their pace, helping you ride it out as he feels your cum coat his fingers, and he wants to do it again, he wants, no, he needs to feel you cum again, but on his cock this time..

In the blink of an eye he grabs your legs and pulls you forward, you yelp when you feel your ass hang off the sink, but he grabs you and wraps your legs around his waist, pressing the large tent in his pants into your still throbbing cunt, and it feels so big..

You’re still recovering from your orgasm when he grinds into you, making your body shake, and bringing his lips to your ear to whisper “Think you can take my cock now, baby? Think that little pussy is ready for me?” He grinds into you again, making your eyes roll back.

“B-but..” You hesitate, and he looks you in the eye,

“But what..?” He raises an eyebrow at you, unsure of what could possibly come out of your mouth next..

“I’m…a virgin..” You confess, peering up at him through your mask, as you see him freeze, and your stomach drops. ‘Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that.’

“A…Virgin..” He repeats, slowly, trying to process the information. ‘She’s…a virgin. She’s a virgin. Wait. Of course she’s a fucking a virgin. She’s so innocent. She’s my student. Oh god. She’s my fucking student. What have I done? She doesn’t even know it’s me. Fuck. Yep, the alcohol just wore off. This is too far. I went too far.’

He slowly sets your legs down to the floor, taking a step back with a deep breath, ‘calm down, Satoru, just make an excuse to leave now, and freak out about it at home.’

Pulling his phone out and enacting an emergency, he dramatically gasps at his screen, placing a hand on his cheek as he fakes reading a supposedly very important text message,

“Ahhh, shit, so sorry sweetheart, I really have to go, I uh.. My son's dog, he’s really sick! Throwing up all over the house, it’s really bad..” He inches closer to the door,

“We might need to put him down! Poor thing, practically waiting to be put out of his misery now. I’ll have to console my son and everything..You know how it is! Thanks for understanding! Take care!” He tries to pull the door open, but it’s locked, “Shit” he mutters under his breath, turning the lock as quickly as he can and all but lunging out the door to run to his car where he can panic in peace.

No fucking way.

You’re left dumbfounded, staring at the door with trembling thighs and a slightly dropped jaw. He did not just do that. You try not to take it personally, I mean, he literally didn’t know it was you, but wow, that was…wow..

Your lip starts to tremble slightly as thoughts flood your mind, ‘why didn’t he wanna fuck me?! Is it because I'm a virgin? Fuck, I shouldn’t have told him..’ You rip your mask off, tossing it away on the floor, and all but ripping your hair out of your up-do. What if this was your only chance with him and you just blew it?

Walking out of the bathroom, you feel tears staining your cheek and your mascara run but you don’t care in the slightest. Avoiding any and all reflective objects so as to not witness the hot mess you are right now.

One chance. You had one chance to actually fuck the man of your dreams and you blew it. You were so close, he fingered you, he fucking fingered you and then you fumbled. Fuck, you hate yourself.

Not even thinking twice, you make your way out of the main hall, trudging down the parking lot onto the street and into the nearest bar. Alcohol will help. Alcohol always helps.

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

A shot turns into two, then to three, then to who knows how many, you lost count, but you’re drinking! Who doesn’t love to drink? Not you, you fucking love it. Drinking makes the feelings go away!

“Excuse moi! Can I haveee just oneeeeeee more shot of Tenquila? Pleaseeeeeee?” You slur your words to the poor bartender who looks at you with concern.

“I think you’ve had enough te-quila miss. Ten shots to be exact. Do you have anyone that can take you home?” He questions, hoping you would say yes.

“Boooooo! I still wanna drink though!” You frown, making a thumbs down gesture at the bartender who is definitely not getting paid enough to deal with this.

“Miss, either you call someone or we’ll call you a cab, but I’m kicking you out. For your own good.” He says sternly, instantly regretting it when he sees your eyes well up with tears.

“FINE!” You sniffle, fishing your phone out of your purse, and dialling the first person that comes to mind..

Though your little drunk self doesn’t seem to notice, or care, that she hears a phone ring behind her, at the exact moment she is making the call, which picks up in an instant anyways. You don’t give him a chance to answer before you shout through the speaker,

“GOJO-SENSEI…CAN YOU COME PICK ME UP? I’M B-BEING KICKED O-OUT…F-FROM A BAR..” You shout, in between sniffles and sobs, throwing your head down on the bar counter and closing your eyes.

A minute or so passes but it feels like ten, because when you lift your head up, Gojo sensei is paying your bill and leaning forward to drape your wobbly arms around his shoulders.

“Sensei! Y-you came! That was fast!” You exclaim, hiccuping mid sentence as you stare at his face, his hair is up and he has his blindfold on now, you throw your head on his chest as he picks you up from the bar chair, bridal style.

“Yeah, of course I came, darling, Let’s get you home, okay?” He swallows the lump in his throat, still beating himself up about what happened earlier. He took advantage of you and you didn’t even know, and here you are, thinking of him first to call for help.

The guilt hits him hard when you nuzzle into his neck during the walk to the car, drunkenly muttering something about how he makes you feel so safe. You’re so pure and wholesome. He’s just disgusting.

But still, he can't help the small smile that creeps up on his lips every time he glances over at you, passed out in the back seat on the way back to the dorms. He’ll make it up to you, he’ll atone, in his own way.

How you didn’t notice him following you down the street and into the bar to keep an eye on you was beyond him. He must have really upset you when he left so suddenly, but it was the right thing to do.

He’ll have to teach you more about noticing your surroundings, what if you had been stalked by someone, or ambushed by a curse in your vulnerable state? He sighs while carrying you into your room, setting you down on your bed as slowly as he can to avoid waking you.

Your heels clack on the ground where he disposes of them, before pulling the covers over your body. For a second, he stares down at you, taking off his blindfold to really look at you. Runny mascara, disheveled hair, and a crease between your brows as you drift off into dreamland.

He’s unsure of what he feels at this moment. Guilt? Lust? Confusion? All the above?

A light snore snaps him out of his thoughts. Right, he should let you sleep, after all that happened, this is the least he can do..

“Goodnight, pretty girl” He bites the inside of his cheek, as he leaves your room, sighing as he teleports into his own.

Stripping off his clothes, he lays his head on the pillow, arms crossed over his chest as he stares into the ceiling, knowing at least one thing for sure;

He’s not getting any sleep tonight.

————————————————

Chapter 4: CRUSH?

Nausea, a thrumming headache, and bile rising in the back of your throat are what greet you the second you open your eyes. Clearly last night went great for you, though your hazy mind is telling of the fact that you will have no recollection of it for a while.

It’s not exactly pleasant, spending the first portion of your morning hunched over the toilet bowl, spilling your guts (and regrets) from the night before, but in a way it’s like you’re letting it all go, flushing it down the drain where it belongs so you can pretend it never happened and peacefully move on.

Which, speaking of what happened, what the fuck did you even do last night? Do you even wanna know? Probably not. But judging by the fact that you went out drinking and ended up in your own bed, clearly nothing happened with Gojo-sensei.

You’ll take this failed attempt with a grain of salt, there’s always more chances after all, or at least those are the bullshit words you’re spewing at yourself now to make you feel better.

Accepting that fact, you spend the rest of your morning fighting through the urge to go back to sleep while you get ready for your mission later today. You’re supposed to be joining Yuji and Nanami to gather more leads on the patchface curse, but Gojo will be taking you there, and regrouping with you all at the end of the day.

All the more reason to get dolled up, aside from masking the fact that you look and feel like a walking corpse, courtesy of your lovely hangover of course. Cherry lip gloss, fake eyelashes, and a bow in your hair are enough to do the trick, you reckon.

You decide to grab a quick bite before heading over to the main building to meet Gojo. You’ll need the energy to prepare for whatever antics you have in store for this poor man today. On your way to the cafeteria, you get a message informing you that your new uniform is ready for pick-up today. Perfect, Gojo-sensei can drop you off.

—------------------------

“Morning, Sensei!” You shout, walking across the courtyard to his car and he waves back in your direction, leaning against the hood and scrolling on his phone, he immediately stuffs it into his pocket when he sees you and straightens up.

“You’re early, that eager to work with Yuji again?” He smiles, remembering how well your previous missions with the pink haired boy all went. He opens the car door for you to climb in.

“Maybe i’m just eager to see you” You smile, buckling yourself in while he climbs in next to you, doing the same, though his hands fumble with the buckle slightly when you give your reply. He quickly catches himself, coughing and fixing his rearview mirror as he shifts the topic, a little more tensely,

“Did you eat breakfast?” He asks.

“Oh, yeah I did, actually..do you mind taking me somewhere?” You ask back, tilting your head and looking at his side profile. He opted for his blindfold today, his hair sticking up, accentuating his side profile. His sharp jaw and long nose make him look nothing short of a sculpture, something someone spent hours of their time carving and shaping into absolute perfection. He licks his lips in contemplation, the thin layer of saliva casts a small sheen on them, and you can’t help but lick your lips back at the thought of how they would feel on top of yours, it invades your mind, the same way the artificial cherry of your gloss invades your mouth, a taste you’re sure a certain somebody with a sweet tooth would love.

You’re positive you’re wearing these emotions on your sleeve, at least it’s enough for him to sense it, since he shifts his attention back to the road, his smile falling a little at how intensely you’re staring, a sort of hunger present behind those wispy lashes of yours, not bold enough to comment on it, but it subtle enough for a man as perceptive as himself to pick up on.

“What-” He clears his throat “Where do you want to go? I don’t mind if it’s on the way.”

“The tailors” You reply, reaching into your bag and pulling out a lollipop, the rustling grabs his attention and he looks over.

“The tailors? You got a new uniform?” He asks, typing in the location to the tailors on his phone, and smiling at you.

“Mhm, everyone’s switching to summer uniforms lately. Thought I was due for an upgrade” You explain, extending your lollipop to him with a small tilt to your head, and he shakes his in response, thanking you anyways for the offer, you shrug and pop the plastic off, wrapping your lips around the candy with a satisfied hum, muttering a soft “your loss” as the sugar melts on your tongue.

It really is the simple things in life that fill you with joy, like the taste of artificial fruits, and the blush your sensei is so obviously trying to hide while he forces himself to focus on the road rather than your sweet little hums as you suck, and suck, and suck on the sugary treat, a little more feverishly than a normal person might. 'You must really love candy', he thinks. Swallowing down the saliva he didn’t know gathered in his throat.

You decide to bite some more, not sure if you can chew it all just yet, but still biting for the thrill of it.

“You sure you don’t want some? I know you have a sweet tooth like me” You pout, taking the sucker out of your mouth with an audible pop, holding it up to his face, and a groan dies in his throat. This is basically indirect kissing, right? Or is he overthinking this? Technically, he already kissed you once before, even though you didn’t know it was him, and you ended up getting trashed hours later and passed out in the back of his car.

He must have gotten lost in thought for a while because you start waving it around, pouting as you say “Come on, share with me! It’s too big for me to suck on all by myself” Suppressing your smirk at the last line as you enunciate each word with a soft whine.

He stiffens a little, mind going a hundred miles a minute as he tries not to focus on how every word you say somehow translates into an innuendo in his sick mind. There’s nothing inherently wrong with what you said, or what you’re offering.

He’s the weird one here. You’re just dying to share this lollipop with him. Who is he to refuse, especially when you’re being so kind to offer it twice. 'What’s sharing a piece of candy with your student, right?' he tells himself.

He opens his mouth, and you giggle, plopping your lollipop onto his tongue, his lips wrap around the candy and his breath hitches slightly, the sucker had your saliva all over it, he can taste you faintly in between the notes of sugar and fruit, and although light, it still overpowers the sweetness of the candy to him, all he can taste is you, not the same way he did a few moons ago at the ball, but still tasting you nonetheless. And just as he remembers, you’re sweeter than any candy. He unintentionally sucks harder, hoping to sap every last drop you left on there. If he can’t kiss you the way he wants again, he’ll savor any taste of you he can get.

‘This is messed up’ He thinks. How his tongue swirls around the candy languidly, savoring the taste. To the external eye, he’s just nursing a lollipop. And just as he thought, when he turns his attention back to you, you’re zoned out, tapping your prettily manicured nails atop his window. Unaware that his pervy self is concealing a semi because you're sweet enough to share a candy with him.

‘Damn, I need to get laid soon..’ He shakes his head, deeming that the case for his teen-like hormonal surge as of late. He doesn’t need you, he can’t need you, he just needs someone to relieve him of his tension. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t escape the mental image of you with your dress tugged down your pretty tits, head thrown back in ecstasy as you moan and gush all over his fing-

“Your destination is on the right!” The GPS announces, snapping him out of his lewd train of thought. With a shaky sigh, he pulls into the parking spot.

“I need to make a call, so you go ahead.” He lies through his teeth, leaning forward to hide the growing tent between his legs. Maybe he should ask for a looser pair of pants while he’s here..

“Hm, okay, I’ll be quick, but first-” You smile, daringly leaning over to place a quick peck on his cheek and to your surprise, he lets you, dropping his infinity barrier a second before your sticky plump lips meet the softness of his cheek. He freezes and you take the chance to slip the lollipop out of his mouth, popping it into your own with a smirk, leaving the car before he even has a chance to speak. He sits there for a moment, processing what just happened. It was just a sweet gesture right? No ill intentions behind it..Right?

Your lipgloss stains his cheek, and he brings a hand up to his face, brushing over the pigment, transferring the residue to his thumb. He observes the soft sheen, slightly red with specks of iridescence. It glimmers under the sunlight that seeps in through the cracks in the clouds. It’s pretty, he thinks, the subtlety of the color perfectly compliments a sweetheart such as yourself. It’s a downright shame the thoughts that plague his mind are anything but sweet.

With a gentle lick to his thumb to rid it of the stain, and a long sigh, he throws his head down onto the steering wheel, sliding a hand down over his trousers to grip his now fully hard erection with a hiss. He needs to stop. From now, all he’ll think about today is Gakuganji in the shower, another mental image he’ll never be able to erase, but a far less thrilling one. It’s humorous how quickly his hard-on went limp in his hand, and he silently thanks himself from 12 years in the past for breaking into the old geezers quarters to replace his shampoo with hair removal cream.

Minutes pass, and he finds himself reminiscing on his school days with a soft smile, one that slightly falters when you enter the car again, in a much shorter skirt.

One that was definitely borderline against school rules, especially with the way you’re sporting it with no tights underneath. Normally he wouldn’t care about things this trivial, you have the freedom to wear whatever you want anyways. But he’s sure you’ll rub some staff members the wrong way while practically parading around in a mini-skirt. He clears his throat, pulling out of the parking spot and handing you his phone.

“Wanna play music?” He offers, and you accept, scrolling through the music app to find your favorite songs and adding them into a playlist titled “ Your fav student :P”

The rest of the car ride is silent, but it’s comfortable. Apart from your occasional hums and mumbles to the song lyrics, there’s no pressure from either of you to hold small talk or conversation. Gojo-sensei drives relaxedly, an easy smile on his face, his eyes flicker to your thighs every once in a while, sighing in the process, and thankful he wore his blindfold today, so you wouldn’t see the way he ogles you, simultaneously wanting to punch himself for letting his gaze wander yet again.

When he drops you off with Nanami and Yuji, he bids you all farewell, and unsurprisingly, you lean in to give him a hug before he leaves, which prompts Yuji to do the same, throwing himself into the mix like a hyper-active puppy that just wants to be included, screaming “Group hug!”

“Alright alright, get in here both of you!” Gojo chuckles, wrapping both his arms around yours and Yuji’s shoulders, tucking you under his freakishly long arms. His large hands rest atop your heads, ruffling your hair as you squirm around, the three of you laughing like idiots.

The sudden sound of a throat being cleared snaps you all out of it, the blonde haired man standing before you seems unimpressed to say the least.

“Gojo-san, if you’ll excuse us, we have a lot of work to get on with. Please reserve your foolishness for another time.”

“Someone’s a buzz kill..” Gojo mumbles, dropping his arms to his sides, and stepping back. You turn to face him, cupping your hand around your mouth as you whisper shout “We’ll resume this later!” With a grin, and he chuckles in response, waving you off as he walks back to the car.

You turn back to face Nanami, who is already eyeing you up and down with an unreadable expression on his face. You had never worked with him before, but you’re no stranger to teaming up with Yuji. At least he’ll make this fun, you think.

A monotone voice calling your name forces you to straighten up, you lock eyes with Nanami as he blatantly says,

“I understand you’re Gojo-san’s student as well, let me make it clear that I am not of the same mindset. I expect you to be on your best behavior if you’d like to stay on this mission.” You frown at his words, what’s that supposed to mean?

Yuji must have sensed your discomfort because he immediately resorts to damage control, laughing nervously with a hand behind his head as he reassures you, “Nanamin is like that with everyone, he was even worse with me at first. Don’t let it get to you.” He smiles, and you can’t help but feel your heart warm. Perhaps this mission won’t go so badly after all.

Nanami interjects with a sigh, fixing his ugly glasses as he says to Yuji “I told you to stop calling me that.”

Yuji shrugs, retorting with a simple “Loosen up, Nanamin!”, to which the drained looking man sighs for what seems to be the 20th time in the span of a few minutes, opting to shake his head and start talking the two of you through the plan for today. He goes on, and on, seemingly never stopping with his useless explanations.

'It’s just a stupid curse' you think. you can all just tag team it and get it over with in a day. Why does he have to overcomplicate it? You rest your chin in the palm of your hand, struggling to keep your eyes open.

It's going to be a long day..

—------------------------

“They’re human.” Shoko confirms your suspicions over the phone, causing a tension so thick in the room it nearly starts to feel stuffy. You had noticed it, from the moment the first few transfigured curses fell at your hands. Something felt off, Yuji sensed it too. It was only when Nanami took a photo of the curses’ arm that you knew. But hearing it out loud just makes it more real.

Your eyes drift to Yuji, who is seated beside you on the small sofa, across from Nanami. His gaze never leaves the ground. He’s sulking, despite Shoko reassuring the two of you over the phone that you didn’t kill them, they were already dead. Death in this sense is upsetting, but it isn’t major to you, nor is the act of killing another human for that matter. Though for Yuji it seems to be a completely different case, you know he’s beating himself up about it. He’s empathetic, the type to really feel affected by the suffering of others. You admire how he wears his heart on his sleeve, unlike you who buries all your pain in the back of your throat and swallows it whole without chewing.

“Yuji?” You call him softly, and he meets your gaze for the first time since sitting down. “You mind showing me the restroom? I forgot where it was here.” You smile, and he smiles back gently. He knows you’re lying. There’s signs all over the building that lead you to where you need to be, but he still stands up, getting the message that you’d like a minute alone with him.

You reach the end of the hallway when he finally turns to ask “What did you wan- oh.” You silence him with a tight embrace, wrapping an arm around his neck and another around his head, bringing his face down to your shoulder.

“Shut up. Just let me comfort you.” You whisper, rubbing his shoulder soothingly as he relaxes into your hold, his sniffles are muffled against the fabric of your uniform, as he lets it all out.

“Senpai, I-” he tries to speak again, but you cut in once more, knowing what he needs most now is to hear “You’re not alone. Whatever you’re shouldering, I will too.” You smile when he hugs you tighter, nodding as he wipes away the tears threatening to spill from his ducts.

“And don’t call me Senpai. It makes me feel old.” You poke at his side, and he squirms, smiling and pushing your hand away.“You are old though.” He jokes, but you punch his arm, making him wince like a child and laugh.

“Alright, that’s enough comfort then. You don’t deserve it anymore.” You laugh with him, both of you walking back to the room where Nanami is. You’re unsurprised when you see Gojo-sensei in the same room. He did say he was going to regroup with you all at the end of the day. Yuji brightens up when you sees him, rushing to his side on the small sofa.

You follow with a smile, waving at Gojo as you approach the group, though you quickly realize there’s nowhere for you to sit now. The 2-seater sofa is occupied by Yuji and Gojo, and atop the only other chair in the room sits Nanami.

Gojo notices and makes a move to get up and offer his seat to you, but in a swift movement, you grab his arm to stop him, slotting yourself in his lap before he even has a chance to interject. He freezes. Nanami freezes. Your heart races, knowing this could either go very smoothly, or very badly. Though, to your surprise, Gojo simply clears his throat, relaxing back on the sofa as he turns his head to Nanami.

“So. Where were we?” He asks, as if nothing just happened. As if your perky little ass isn’t seated right on his crotch in front of another student and a coworker. He can’t let this get to him. Not in front of everyone. You’re just taking a seat. Nothing more, nothing less. It just so happens that your already-too-short skirt has ridden up enough for him to feel everything.

Nanami moves the topic quickly, continuing his explanation to Gojo about the events that occurred and the leads you were able to get today. You, on the other hand, are still not making it any easier for your poor sensei.

You absentmindedly tap your nails against the arm of the sofa, shifting in Gojo’s lap to get more comfortable. A particular shift from your hips causes his cock to twitch. He groans, disguising the noise with a cough. He gently places a hand on your upper hip, stilling your movements with a deep breath as he tries for the life of him to focus on anything but the warmth emanating from between your plush thighs. ‘Naked Gakuganji, Naked Gakuganji…’ He repeats in his own head like a mantra.

He talks back and forth with Nanami, discussing the next steps in tracking down the patch-face curse, you couldn’t be bothered to listen, knowing it’ll all get simplified in an email later on anyways. You must have been pretty zoned out because a tap on your hip snaps you back to reality.

The reality where Nanami is staring you dead in the eyes as he speaks, with anything but a gentle tone, “...As as I was saying. Will you and Itadori-kun excuse us for a minute? I need to have a word with Gojo-san. Alone.” He emphasizes the last few words, making it clear he wants the two of you gone, now.

You nod and stand up from Gojo-sensei’s lap, Yuji follows as the two of you walk to the door, Yuji waves to both of them with a sweet smile, and you turn your head back, saying goodbye as well, but only Gojo says it back.

There is a silence that fills the room once yourself and Yuji leave. Gojo is about to make some snarky comment when he gets sucker-punched in the face by Nanami’s question.

“So how long have you been fucking your student?” Nanami asks in a tone so sure it even makes Gojo doubt himself for a split second.

“What?” Gojo asks back, unable to process what just hit him.

“You heard me the first time.” Nanami states.

“Yeah and I'll also hear it if you told me you liked your job but that doesn’t make it true.” Gojo scoffs, running a hand through his hair as he realizes the absurdity of the question he's being faced with.

“You seriously have the nerve to be sarcastic when faced with a question like that?” Nanami's tone comes out a little more aggressively.

“Well you had the nerve to ask me that stupid question in the first place.” Gojo retorts, with a similar bite in his tone.

“Don’t take me for an idiot.” Nanami grits his teeth, removing his glasses to squint his eyes at the white haired man sitting in front of him.

“Hard not to when you’re accusing me of being a fucking pervert.” Gojo argues, clenching a fist on his thigh.

“Then do you care to explain to me the reason she acts so suggestively towards you?” Nanami asks, clearly trying to back his coworker into a corner.

“And what exactly is suggestive about the way she acts?” Gojo’s knuckles turn white from how hard he’s clenching.

“Leaning in to you, batting her eyelashes, licking her lips, the try-hard tone of voice she puts on only when you’re around-” Nanami starts to list off, before he’s interrupted by Gojo’s incredulous laughter.

“Yeah, just like every other young girl I speak to that tries to get my attention?” He retorts, shaking his head with a deep sigh. ‘ What the fuck is Nanami’s problem? ’ He thinks.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much.” Nanami rolls his eyes, fed up.

“It’s not flattery, it’s fact.” Gojo states blankly, having had enough of this conversation,

“She sat in your lap.” Nanami poses, certain he can’t deflect this argument.

“There was nowhere else to sit. If it was so ‘suggestive’ do you think she would have done it with others around?” Gojo defends, “Maybe you’re the perverted one here for seeing it that way.” He spits out, bringing a deep furrow to Nanami’s eyebrows.

“What the hell are you saying?!” Nanami growls, raising his voice.

“I’m saying, no girl is immune to the effects of my charm.” Gojo shrugs, as casual as ever, as if he’s not having one of the most absurd conversations in his life.

“Quit fucking around, Gojo.” Nanami sighs, straightening up in his chair.

“You see, Nanami, this is actually what it’s like when a girl has a crush on you. Not that I expect someone like you to know about that.” Gojo states, laughing in his coworkers face, but faltering for a moment. ‘Wait, Crush? Why would I say that?’ He thinks.

Nanami simply stands up, having heard enough of Gojo’s shit. This conversation was going nowhere, not when the man before him is deflecting like he’s born to do so.

“You’re full of shit, Gojo, and you know it.” Nanami states, walking towards the door without bidding a second look. “Yeah, well…you’re not even a fart!” Gojo shouts at his frame as it disappears past the door and into the hallway.

He sinks back on the sofa, sighing deeply as he tries to digest everything that happened to him today. Surely none of it was obvious, right? You aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re just a sweet girl who happens to be the object of his twisted desires. Maybe Nanami sees through that, in that case he just needs to up his masking game, something he’s more than used to already.

But it still isn’t an excuse for the man to just throw baseless accusations like that. It’s disrespectful to him, and also to you.

Anyone could tell those were bullshit claims, anyways. Though, it does cross his mind that everything you seem to be doing is exactly what he was used to from girls that wanted him in the past. The thought grows in a way he really doesn’t want it to. Those girls were always his age. It makes no sense that an innocent girl like you would intentionally act that way with a teacher. Right?

Well..Unless you do have a crush on him, he thinks..Then it hits him. The lollipop sharing. The staring. The physical contact. It all starts to click.

“Shit.” He mutters, throwing his head into the palm of his hands.

You have a crush on him.

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 2 years

Text

The calls contain important references from Victor’s Glacier Date. So, please make sure you read the date first! ♡

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for content yet to be released on the global server! ⌚

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

–

[1st Call]

Victor: I was in a video conference just now and couldn’t pick up your call.

Victor: Anyway, I’d really like to know what on earth is it that happened to a certain someone?

Victor: Why did I receive a bunch of crying and rolling around memes the second I turned on my phone?

MC: That… it’s actually not that big a deal.

MC: It’s just that I really don’t want to come to work anymore, sob sob sob sob––!

Victor: …

Victor: I seem to have heard the exact words more than once.

Victor: Why is it that every time a vacation ends, a certain someone always adheres to making this complaint without exception?

MC: Because every time I come back to work on the first day, it feels like being in hell!

MC: And especially since we were away for so long this time, it’s really like I’ve returned to the hell inside the hell!

MC: We received feedback on the previous works, and now we have to do follow-ups on them. At the same time, we also have to prepare for new projects.

MC: We still haven’t landed on a schedule regarding when I’ve to go to LFG to submit the quarterly report, so I still have to check with Goldman…

MC: By the way, the report I missed before the vacation, I’ll email it to you later at…

Victor: I remember it’s supposed to be the lunch break at [MC’s Company Name] right now.

MC: Eh?

Victor: I mean, how come a certain someone who says she doesn’t want to work is calling me and still talking about work?

MC: …!!

MC: In fact, there are, of course, also other things outside of work that I want to talk to you about~

MC: For instance… uhh… for instance, I think the sky doesn’t look good today, and there’s a good chance that it might rain!

Victor: It will indeed rain, but it’s gonna stop around 7 pm.

Victor: Have you forgotten? You put the umbrella in my bag in the morning.

MC: Sob sob, it turns out that I already reminded you… I’m dizzy from all the work rush.

MC: …by the way, Pudding hasn’t been eating very actively lately. So, I opened a can for it in the morning, and its appetite seemed to have improved a little~

Victor: That’s just its habitual trick, and it does the same thing every time it gets a craving for canned food.

Victor: And you are the only one it still manages to fool every time.

MC: …that’s because it calls out so pitifully every time! Oh, there’s also…

Victor: All right, no need to rack your brain to divert the subject.

Victor: Just now, I simply wanted to remind you to not get bogged down in work all day long. Occasionally, you should also hop around a little bit and let your mind rest for a while.

Victor: Let’s end the chat here for now. My next meeting is about to start.

Victor: Do you still have to work overtime tonight?

MC: Mm, I need to work over…

Victor: Remember to text me when you’re almost finished. Don’t worry, I’ll bring late-night snacks as comfort.

–

[2nd Call]

Starts at – 2:07

–

Victor: Are you working overtime tonight?

MC: No. It just happens that I can get off work on schedule. Just need five more minutes, and I’ll be able to sneak out of here~

Victor: That’s good. Come with me when you’re done, and we’ll go together to pick up the car.

Victor: The 4S store contacted me in the afternoon and said that the maintenance has been done and it’s good to be received today.

MC: Okay!

MC: It drove us through the desert and onto the glaciers. It was indeed time for it to take proper rest.

MC: By the way, has the scratch on the front of the car been repaired too?

Victor: It’s fixed. That was especially taken care of to make it exactly the same as before.

Victor: Or perhaps we could leave it as it was. You know, as a commemoration of a certain dummy’s driving skills.

MC: Victor! There’s no need for this kind of commemoration!

MC: Besides, I got it scruffed just that one time… all my parallel parking was perfect after that!

Victor: It was indeed perfect. It’s just that the duration became directly proportional to the result.

Victor: I had finished reading several emails, and a certain someone was still staring into the rearview mirror, meticulously adjusting the steering wheel.

MC: I was just being cautious, that’s all! Haven’t you heard of the saying, “it is better to be late in this world than to be early in the next”~

Victor: I’ve indeed heard of it. But if I remember correctly, this is a slogan to exhort drivers against running red lights.

Victor: A certain someone trying to use that as a justification for dilly-dallying while parking doesn’t seem very convincing.

MC: CEO Victor, you don’t need to poke holes into such small, insignificant details.

MC: How come you happen to notice all my occasional mistakes... my driving skills clearly aren’t that bad.

MC: You probably don’t know. You were so comfortable that you were actually snoring when we were on the highway~

Victor: ...okay, let’s assume that you’re telling the truth.

MC: What assume... what I said is exactly what happened! I’ll most definitely be the driver next time and wipe clean the “bad” impression you have of me.

MC: But calculating the time, it’ll be quite a while before we go on our next trip...

Victor: It doesn’t need to be quite a while. You can experience that one more time today.

MC: What?

Victor: It doesn’t only have to be the self-drive tours. You can also practice your skill on the route to when we go to work and return home.

Victor: I didn’t drive up here today, all so to give a certain someone the opportunity to “prove herself.”

Victor: All right, five minutes have passed. Come to LFG now. I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.

—

#merry christmas everyone~ 🎄⛄❤️#hhhhhgnnn i can’t with their all married couple talks akskfjsjk #their phone calls are always like this lol all married couple talks 😂😭🫠💘#mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #恋与制作人 #李泽言 #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc translations

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neurodiversebones · 1 year

Note

I want to hear the ed + recovery thoughts. I want to hear them so badly. I have post notifications on for you and saw your post within a minute because of how much I love your thoughts.

should i be sleeping? yes i have to leave for work in exactly 8 hours (i said when i started this . as im finishing it we are looking at 7 hrs 15 min lol) . but i Have to Talk ! also just letting you know you almost made me CRY with this ask you guys are all genuinely so sweet and kind to me i cannot believe it 💗💐☀ i love you all :-((

OKAY gonna put this under a cut so anyone who doesn't wanna see ed related content can SCROLL AWAY ! gonna avoid being triggering but . protect ur peace and all that <3 also i wanna put out there that this is mostly based on my own experiences with seven years of various eating disorders so if you are reading this and it doesn't fit your idea or perception of ed's that may be why !

ok so the three main characters i have ed-related headcanons for are brennan, angela, and cam (before anyone comments that it's only the women . there is no correlation i promise . i am projecting and these are my Projection Characters .)

i hc brennan as having arfid and orthorexia-- arfid developed for her from a combination of sensory issues with food as well as food-related anxiety from foster care (not always having enough to eat, rarely having any choice in what she ate, food-related punishments within abusive homes). being avoidant is an easy way to ignore the anxiety and stress that comes along with eating, between her sensory issues and the fact that she wasn't given an opportunity to develop much of a healthy relationship with food. orthorexia also developed as a control mechanism, but later in life (around college age). it was the first time since her parents left that she had control over her life, and that included food-- she became very obsessive about what she was putting in her body, because it gave her some of that sense of control back. her obsession with being "healthy" allowed her to feel like she was the one in charge of her body for the first time since she was fifteen.

in regards to recovery, she really didn't realize she had a problem for ages. since she wasn't medically unstable or engaging in super obvious behaviours, she didn't see herself as suffering from an eating disorder at all. it wasn't until sweets pointed out her disordered eating habits that she realized there was anything wrong with what she was doing-- she brought it up to booth, who agreed, which culminated in a fairly major argument as she didn't see anything she was doing as "bad" or disordered, just "healthy" and "in control". after a Real Conversation though, she eventually accepted that she might have some sort of problem and started looking into it more. she is definitely still in recovery, as it is a very slow process after so many years of disordered eating, but she makes an effort to engage in things that scare the disordered part of her brain. her favourite memory in regards to this was getting *real* ice cream for the first time in god knows how long when her and angela were out with the kids <33

my headcanons in regard to angela's ed are very connected to my headcanon that she has bipolar disorder-- many of us with bipolar really struggle with disordered eating and i specifically hc angela as having bulimia. it started when she was a teenager and first starting to experience bipolar episodes-- when manic or depressed, it's incredibly easy to fall into b/p cycles. when she was manic, it was like a form of thrill seeking, and she didn't have the capacity to care for the destruction it was causing, and when depressed, it felt like she was putting her awful feelings into something physical. it was hard to express her emotions through words, so she used her body instead.

i think she entered recovery for the first time in her late teens (around 17) when her mental health hit like . rock bottom and her dad decided that they needed to do something about it. she got the treatment she needed, and also took time away from school to tour with her dad-- exploring the country and having so much time to just sit with her thoughts (especially now that they were a little easier to manage with medication) is what made her start doing art really seriously-- if she couldn't express her hurt with her body anymore, she was going to do it on a page, and she created some of her most beautiful paintings during that time that she is still very proud of to this day. she still has slip ups to this day when she is struggling with her episodes, but with hodgins and brennan she is much more capable of talking through it before it gets to a dangerous point of relapse.

as for cam's ed, i feel this is the one i've talked about the most before bc she is my comfort character in this aspect? i headcanon her to have anorexia, specifically restrictive subtype. for her it's a control and perfectionism thing, as well as a "growing up masking autism" thing. cam has a very perfectionist and obsessive personality type, and it's mostly directed toward herself. everything she does needs to be perfect to be enough, and she needs to feel in control at all times. food is one of the easiest ways to do this-- if she can control her body and the food she consumes, obsess over numbers and physical changes and symptoms, it makes her feel a little more at ease in her life because she feels she has *something* under her control. as for the masking thing, she often masked with hyperfemininity growing up-- she was praised frequently for being a "good girl", and part of keeping up that image was looking the "right" way (aka, thin). if she could keep up this image, people wouldn't notice the things that made her odd or how unnatural everything felt to her. it's another control thing, but with another layer to it.

cam took a *long* time to start real recovery. she had phases where it got less severe, even some to the point where she barely thought about it, but restriction and denial was always still a part of her mentality and routine. it wasn't until arastoo came along that she felt comfortable enough to explain her pain and her thoughts to another person-- she was always too scared to unload on anyone else, so she kept it a secret essentially her entire life. arastoo was the first person she trusted to listen without judgement, and he encouraged her to talk to her other friends and loved ones about it (all of whom were incredibly understanding and supportive). in a similar sense to brennan, recovery is really difficult for her, having struggled for so incredibly long and having her disorder be a part of her daily routine for the majority of her life. however, she tries incredibly hard-- arastoo is teaching her how to cook (she never learned) and she's learning to find the joy in food through that, and allowing herself to relax around it a little more <333

that is all !!!! wow this is so very long lol . i hope you enjoyed this it was cathartic for me

#local girl with anorexia projects onto their silly little scientists to feel better .#anyway i feel like it should be more normalized to talk about ed's the same way we talk about any other mental illness . this was cathartic #temperance brennan headcanons #angela montenegro headcanons #cam saroyan headcanons #tw ed #mental health headcanons

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riahlynn101 · 9 months

Text

Dad December - Day Fifteen & Sixteen: "Vault." + "Why Didn't You Tell Me?"

Combining two days, because they related to each other. Last two parts of "Prison Visit."

Trigger warnings: Kidnapping, implied/referenced childhood trauma, and All for One being himself.

word count: 3,161

@daddecember

Pt. 3 ~

All for One is led back to his cell, but he can’t bring himself to be mad about it. He smiles widely as the door is slammed in his face. This tiny space can’t hold him forever, and now that he has the confirmation that he wants, being here is simply a formality.

He sighs deeply, whirling around to his bed. It looks like it’s time to call in those favors.

-x-x-x-

Izuku pokes at his rations. The results of the paternity test sit at the forefront of his brain - taunting him. And the hardest part wasn’t even getting the test results or All for One trying to hug him to death, it was telling All Might.

All Might-the hero that he is, retired or not-hadn’t looked at him any different. He simply wrapped his arms around Izuku and said it was going to be alright, that he didn’t think differently of him. It was enough to send Izuku to tears.

But sitting here now, with his mother across from him, the apprehension he felt earlier returns with a vengeance.

“You need to eat,” his mom gently urges, taking another bite of whatever rice dish the kitchen staff threw together for the hundreds of civilians and heroes seeking shelter here. It’s unlike anything Izuku has ever seen before, and he has no energy to guess what it is.

“I know,” he mutters but continues poking at it anyway.

“Izuku, is something wrong? First, you wouldn’t hug me earlier, and now you won’t eat.” She grabs his hand from across the table. “Please, talk to me, baby.”

He puts his chopsticks down, hanging his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Izuku asks, voice quiet - barely above a whisper.

“Izuku, what-”

He picks his head up, staring daggers at his mom. Logically, he knows that being mad at her solves nothing. But he’s angry and hurt and all this could have been avoided if she didn’t keep it to herself. “Why didn’t you tell me about my father?”

His mom goes silent, face turning pale. She stares off into space, as if remembering something old but not entirely forgotten.

“Mom?”

She regards Izuku with a somber expression. “I assume you met him?” Her face reads as sad, but her eyes look highly concerned.

“More than once,” Izuku says. “Both on and off the battlefield. And weirdly, in my dreams.”

“In your dreams….?” His mom asks, thoroughly confused. Unfortunately, Izuku doesn’t feel like dwelling on the complexities of his quirk.

“All for One. How do you know him?”

“Shigaraki Hisashi,” his mom corrects, “and he was my boss. I mean, at least at first he was.”

Izuku’s stomach twists.

“But we grew to care about each other. I truly thought that he was the one. Told all my friends about it, but….” his mom trails off, looking and sounding heart-wrenchingly sad. Despite his anger, Izuku gives her hand a gentle, encouraging squeeze.

She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter what we felt for one another, because after I found out about his villainy, I packed my life up and started over somewhere new. And then, some months later, you came along and made me the happiest person on the planet.” His mom pinches his cheek, the sadness receding from her eyes. In its place, a warm, tender fondness.

“Mom,” he says, voice strained. It would have been so easy for his mom to stay, but she chose to risk her safety and financial stability for a better future without All for One in their lives.

Izuku rounds the makeshift table to embrace his mom, wanting and needing her to hold him. Even if it’s for just a second. He needs her strength and courage, because his own is failing him right now.

He snuggles into her warmth, breathing in her floral perfume. She seems just as content, even though their (slight) height difference makes snuggling up together a little harder.

“Mom?” He asks, voice muffled.

She hums in response.

“How did you end up working for All for One? Did you know what he was or-”

His mom cuts him off. “I was his assistant, but all of my jobs were office related. I met him through a previous boss I had. And no, I didn’t know who he was. I was in love with him. If things turned out differently….if I didn’t decide to snoop through the files on his desk, I can confidently say that I would still be with him.”

“But you did leave,” Izuku murmurs, still leaning against her. “You’re brave.”

His mom softly laughs. “Thank you, baby. But I think the braver thing would have been turning the information I had over to the police.” She sighs. “Sometimes I worry that my inaction and cowardice helped enable him to do worse.”

He pulls away, staring into his mom’s watery eyes. “I can’t tell you that not turning over whatever information you had wouldn’t have mattered, because I don’t know. But what I do know is that you did the best thing for us, and if I didn’t take that test I could have lived the rest of my life in arrogant bliss.”

“Oh, Izuku,” she warbles, pulling him in for another hug.

-x-x-x-

“What do you mean, All for One has escaped!?” The warden for the side of the prison that All for for One, resides in looks at his subordinates, the ones directly responsible for keeping the supervillain in check. “Well!?”

None of them dare speak, either in a state of perpetual shock or terrified about what consequences All for One’s second unauthorized departure might have on a still reeling Japan.

He scoffs, angrily. “Useless! All of you! Get out of my sight!” He watches them leave, heads hung. Clearly disappointed in themselves. “Wait!” He calls out, and they all pause in the doorway. “Tell no one about this. The last thing we need is for people to freak out.”

They nod, shuffling out the door. Once the last of them leave, shutting the door behind them, he relaxes in his chair.

The warden pulls out a burner phone from his desk. He texts only two words, before throwing it to the ground and stomping on it.

It’s done.

Pt. 4 - Final Part:

Tenko eyes his little brother (he knows that Izuku isn’t actually his little brother, but after everything they went through, it’s hard not to think of the kid as such. It also doesn’t help that the kid seems bound and determined to keep in touch with him.) The kid is awfully silent for no good reason. Well, he supposes the war and the aftermath would render anybody speechless, but this is Izuku Midoriya. Not some random NPC ( civilian , his mind corrects) cowers in the face of something terrible.

“What’s wrong?”

Izuku has the audacity to look surprised. “What? What do you mean?”

Tenko feels his left eye twitch. “I mean that you’ve hardly said a word the last two visits. Is everything okay? Is someone hurting you?” He feels his blood pressure rise at the thought of someone hurting Izuku. Which is ironic given their shared history.

“I’m-”

“Don’t you dare say ‘fine’.”

Izuku takes a second longer to finish his sentence. “Good. I’m good.”

“Liar.”

“Am Not!” Izuku proclaims, clenching his fists. “I’m just a little tired is all.”

“Yeah? And I’m tired of your shit,” Tenko shoots back. He calms down a little, no need to get Izuku all riled up. “All I’m saying is that, whatever is bothering you, you can tell me.”

“You have enough to worry about.”

“And ninety-nine percent of what I worry about is you.” It’s true, too, he often lies awake at night, thinking and worrying about his surrogate brother’s safety. He’s always the first to rush into danger, and Tenko wouldn’t be able to live with himself if one day Izuku bites off more than he can chew and dies alone and afraid. All his progress over the last month or so has been in large part due to Tenko wanting to make his brother proud. One day, probably five or more years down the road, he hopes to interact with Izuku outside these walls.

Izuku swallows before answering. “I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to think differently of me.”

A thousand possibilities run through Tenko’s head. “Nothing could make me think badly of you.”

His brother gives a nervous laugh, reminding Tenko of their first chat in the mall.

“I…well I visited All for One in prison.”

The air is knocked from his lungs. Tenko slumps over a little, dumbfounded. “You did what?”

“I know, I know, but I didn’t do it for no reason. The First One for All user told me that All for One is my father, so I-”

“What?” Tenko interrupts, focusing solely on Izuku. “Why would he say such an awful thing?” All for One, while not exactly a father to him, he was the closest thing Tenko had to a father figure for the longest time (unless he counts Kurogiri, which he only does when he’s feeling sentimental). All for One’s parenting leaves much to be desired, and he wouldn’t wish what he endured on anyone - let alone someone as good as Izuku.

“He didn’t do it to be cruel, but I got curious.”

“And you visited him.”

“I visited him,” Izuku confirms. “But he got all excited, said if I didn’t take a DNA test he would put a hit out on All Might.”

“Jesus. Where were the guards?”

Izuku doesn’t speak, shrugging his shoulders.

“Izuku?” Tenko asks, growing more and more concerned. “Where were the guards?”

“They weren’t in the room with us.”

“But they were observing you, right? Keeping you safe, right?” His blood pressure rises again - it seems to do that a lot when Izuku Midoriya’s around.

“I assume so…” His little brother stares at his hands, which are clasped in his lap.

“You assume so?”

“Well, I mean, they weren’t in the room with us and I didn’t see a camera so-”

“They left you in a room alone with All for One.” His eyes narrow. “I’m going to kill them.”

A squeak escapes Izuku, and he frantically waves his arms around. “Please, don’t. I’m fine, I promise. All for One was surprisingly decent to me.”

Tenko forces himself to settle down. “Okay. And then what happened?”

“I took the test, and had to wait a week for the results.”

“When you got pulled from our visit earlier than normal last week, that was-”

“The test results coming in, yes.”

Tenko’s mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, as his brother’s behavior suddenly makes sense. “They came back positive, didn’t they?”

Izuku fidgets with his fingers, face turning red. “Yeah…”

“How did All for One take it?”

“Great,” Izuku says, but he doesn’t sound the least bit happy. Knowing All for One, Tenko can sympathize. “He hugged me, but I felt like I was getting choked out.”

Tenko chuckles.

“It’s not funny!”

“Mhm, yeah, no, you’re right. Totally not funny. But you have to admit that being hugged by the very supervillain that wanted you dead not two weeks ago, is a little funny.”

Izuku pouts. “No.”

Tenko stiffles his laughter, ruffling his brother’s hair. “Anyway, what happened next?”

“I untangled myself from him, bolted for the door, and haven’t gone back since.”

“Smart.” He hums, flicking Izukus’ forehead.

“Ow!” Izuku looks at him, rubbing his forehead. “What was that for?”

“For not using your brain. That could have ended very badly. What if All for One decided he wanted you dead? Huh?”

“Sorry,” Izuku murmurs. “I just…I’ve never had a dad before. I mean, I have All Might, and he's wonderful and patient and all the things I hope to be when I’m older. But The First told me that All for One could be my father, and it’s like nothing else mattered. I had an opportunity to finally put a face to the other person who helped bring me into this world. To finally feel complete. I shouldn’t have done what I did, but I needed closure.”

Tenko should feel betrayed. He should feel rage and resentment, because after everything All for One did to him, Izuku went to see him anyway. But he doesn’t.

He places a hand on Izuku’s head, one finger poised (he no longer has to worry about his quirk, or quirks, but Tenko is so used to being mindful of the placement of his fingers that it’s become second nature). “You….you don’t have to explain yourself.”

Izuku looks at him - eyes shimmering even in the muted fluorescent lights.

“I won’t say I understand. I had a father, and he was….” Tenko searches for the correct word to describe how dysfunctional his dad was. How childhood trauma shaped his dad just like it shaped him. “Traumatized and cruel, but he was there. Even if I sometimes wished he wasn’t.”

“Tenko…”

He sighs, ruffling the boy’s hair. Tenko drops his hand. “You did what you had to do. Just promise me one thing.”

“Yeah?”

Tenko fixes his brother with a stern glare. “Don’t you ever do something that stupid again. Okay?”

“Okay,” Izuku murmurs. “I promise.”

-x-x-x-

Izuku lays down to sleep that night, exhausted but restless. He tosses and turns. The blanket’s scratchy and makes him too hot, but when he pulls it off he’s way too cold.

He huffs, glaring at the water-stained ceiling. One of the (many) downsides of being a part of the recovery team is the accommodations. Due to most of the shelters and bunkers going to civilians and other officials, they’re stuck with the bare minimum of essentials. A shack with a bare mattress, scratchy blanket, and no pillow isn’t the worst place Izuku’s laid down to sleep in the last week. Not that it makes it anymore bearable.

Unable to find sleep, he slides out of bed. Maybe a walk will clear his mind, or at the very least tire him out.

Outside is a mess of half-cleared rubble and piles of dust that Izuku chooses to believe is from the buildings themselves and not ...well, he would rather not think of the alternative.

The night air is cool, a breeze keeps the summer heat at bay. The moon is out tonight, shining down on Japan in all its glory. A fact that Izuku is thankful for, because all the streetlights and storefronts are gone, leaving the street desolate and dark.

Izuku hesitates for a moment. Walking alone at night isn’t a smart move, and he did promise Tenko he would make better decisions. But….

It’s not like he can’t defend himself.

It’s eerily quiet out - something he still hasn’t gotten used to, even all these weeks later. And he has to steel his nerves to keep moving forward.

Izuku hears First before he sees him. “Izuku Midoriya!”

He keeps walking, arms crossed and eyes focused straight ahead. “Hi, First.”

The First floats beside him, ghostly in appearance in the real world. “Don’t, ‘Hi, First,” me.”

“Okay.”

“Go to sleep.” A cold hand grips his shoulder, yanking on his shirt. “You need to get some rest.”

“No.”

“Izuku, it’s not safe out here.”

Maybe it’s due to the lack of sleep or the stress he’s constantly under, but Izuku rolls his eyes. “As if I haven’t been in more dangerous situations.”

The First stares at him - silent. He disappears in a puff of smoke, leaving Izuku alone. And despite his attitude, Izuku isn’t sure if he’s grateful for that or not.

And then, The Second decides to make himself known, and Izuku suddenly wishes to be alone again.

“Oi, boy, what are you doing acting reckless?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Izuku mumbles, looking at the ground. He hates when Second starts mother-henning him. At least when First or Seventh does it, they’re kinder.

“Oh? So, that gives you permission to run amok in the streets.”

“I’m not running amok. I’m just taking a stroll. It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? No big deal ?”

Izuku grumbles something under his breath. “I’m fine.”

“You’ll be fine, eventually, once you go to sleep.”

Stubbornly, Izuku keeps moving forward, over debris. Now, he has to stay awake. It’s not smart, and logically he understands the vestiges' urgency. But he would rather eat glass than admit Second might be right.

“Please, kid,” Second pleads, hovering in front of him. “If not for me, then for First. He cares about you. We all do.”

Before Izuku can respond, there’s a loud thud to his right. Danger sense hadn’t activated, so it’s probably not a villain. Still…

“Kid, I think it’s time to go- boy!”

Izuku ignores Second, venturing closer to where he heard the sound.

A half-melted trash can on its side greets him. Its lid lays a few feet away, which is likely the cause of the noise. “False alarm,” he says, over his shoulder. “See? There’s nothing to worry Hmpf!” A hand clamps over his mouth. He struggles, kicking his legs wildly. The hand tightens, and Izuku is pulled to someone’s chest. He throws out blackwhip, trying to strangle the person just enough to free himself.

“Hello, again, Izuku.”

Izuku’s blood runs cold. His eyes widened, and he freezes up, letting blackwhip fizzle out. In his brief moment of terror-struck shock, All for One removes his hand from Izuku’s mouth and places it over his forehead.

He never stood a chance, falling limp in the villain’s awaiting arms.

-x-x-x-

All for One hums, combing his fingers through Izuku’s hair. This feels like a dream. A fantasy come to life. What has he done to deserve such good fortune? He’s been nothing short of terrible since the day he was born - something that usually brings him pride. But this….this is the best thing that has ever happened to him.

If Inko had come to him, instead of running away, he would have considered giving up villany. Maybe not forever, but long enough to see their son grow up. They could have compromised.

But no, she ran away, taking the most precious thing he’s ever had. Taking away his right to be a father. Taking his child away.

The hand combing his son’s hair, suddenly grips the curls. Izuku groans in his sleep, turning his head away. All for One relaxes his hold, chuckling. “Sorry, little one.” He presses a kiss to Izuku’s forehead. “I’m just happy I finally got ahold of you. We can be a family.”

He gives his son one last kiss on the head, standing up.

All for One made sure that Izuku’s bedroom was nicely furnished, before retrieving his son. There’s plenty to do, too. Enough at least that, should he be away for a while, his son won’t grow bored.

He smiles, watching Izuku sleep. His face is angelic, and vaguely reminds All for One both of Inko and Yoichi.

“You’ll be happy here, Izuku. I’m going to take great care of you.”

All for One leaves, closing and locking the vault’s door behind him.

#daddecember2023 #daddecember #sfw #dfo au #cross posted on ao3 #mha fanfiction #izuku and all for one #vault time #no.15 #why didn't you tell me #no.16 #vault #originally no.13 #changed prompts around #queue

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leam1983 · 2 years

Text

The Whale - Thoughts

This is a long one, and it touches on topics some might find sensitive. See the appended tags for content warnings.

One of the leading lines of thoughts on here is that Charlie's character has tinges of fatphobia. As someone whose boyfriend is a self-admitted chonker, I'm used to hearing derogatory comments aimed at him, and I know how - in-context - it can feel demeaning or crippling.

That said, this is a movie. It's a movie, yes, but also a movie rooted in a play, which itself has some lived experience scaffolding its structure. It might be uncomfortable to see a big guy wracked with guilt as he caves in and snarfs a bucket of KFC on his own, but it doesn't mean that morbidly obese people can't be subject to bulemia or to other eating disorders. Fat acceptance goes a long way, sure, but the human body is like any assembly of struts bolted to a foundation: it has a certain stress tolerance that varies from person to person, and some of us shouldn't allow themselves to gather too much body habitus.

Let's dial things back down, for perspective. My BF is verging on three hundred pounds. He's five feet six, so he feels quite obviously rotund, at that weight. He dresses it well, having a yen for Business Casual that doesn't drop, ever - not after hours and not on weekends. Walter feels naked without a vest and necktie, he loves flashing his fob watch, and honestly asks me which cufflinks he should wear for this or that meeting at the office. He doesn't have an ounce of shame in regards to his weight, and even has surprising levels of cardio, being known for short straight-backed sprints down his floor's main hallway whenever he forgets to bring a document or two over to the meeting room. He, in his own words, knows he's obese, and he's never let that slow him down.

The main issue is that since we've officially started living together, his increased happiness more or less translated into an increase in appetite. He was about 260 when we first took drinks together and redid his entire wardrobe last year. That's a little over five years since, with three of them marking a notable slackening of his dietary habits.

He still doesn't mind it, or so he tells me. He's still the same cheerful and chipper guy I fell for, the same faux snob who's actually really glad to speak of his more highbrow interests to whoever'll care to listen, from high-end audio to unique pieces painted by local artists that he wants to acquire.

The problem is that he gets drowsy at an increasingly rapid pace. He keeps himself alert at work with a little radio piping Big Band standards practically every day, but the occasional serious traffic jam can sometimes result in my needing to nudge him awake once the coast clears. He also hasn't managed to be active during evenings in about a year, now. We settle in for some after-hours TV or rounds of light discussion, and there's always a point where Walt's chin dips, his breath deepens and then transitions to soft snores. If I let it go, he'll eventually rip-roar himself half-awake with a bonafide Cartoon Snore. He's been given the CPAP talk by his GP, but refuses to consider it. I've always known he had a bit of a napping fetish, but what involved charming little kips before meal prep now sees him sink quite deeply.

I've made it clear on multiple occasions that while I wanted to respect his choices, I didn't feel like losing a loved one on the cusp of their sixties. I'm lucky, in that he understands I'm not interested in Walter George the Suited Six-Pack-Packer; I just want the same old warm, kind and decent man I've fallen for to last for at least a decade or two.

His response is almost always the same. He smiles, pulls me in closer, and kisses me; pulling at my lips a few times.

"It'll be okay," he then tells me. "The moment I feel like I'm losing control, I'll take the necessary steps."

He tells me that, and falls asleep mid-sentence a few hours later, at barely a few minutes past 7 PM.

I'm not blind, I know what Sleep Apnea is. Dad has it, and he, at least, sticks to his CPAP regimen. He's also cut back on salt, reduced his red meat intake, and used the dog as a handy excuse to get out more.

Walter just sits there and pulls the William Taft card. "It's just how I am," he says, his smile radiating warmth and love even while I can recognize the telltale signs of sleep pulling at his mind: the slow eye-squints, the malapropisms, the occasional sentence that goes nowhere, the marred recipes with one or two ingredients missing when a foodie like him would not have allowed himself to omit details; the now-frequent nights where I feel like I'm lying next to a beached whale gasping for air even while he swears that he's really, seriously, super comfortable...

That, in essence, is what The Whale is referring to. Fatphobia would involve heckling someone who, despite their weight, has a clean bill of health or easily manageable quirks. Telling your morbidly obese boyfriend to be a bit more careful is not fatphobic. Brendan Fraser's character has it even worse: he's bulemic! Food is his single coping mechanism for a gaggle of real and imaginary personal flaws, and he's entirely aware that he's digging his own grave! How can it be fatphobic to have such a character realize that he needs to move forward and make amends in order to find enough courage to save himself?

If anything, Charlie's progress is slow, hard - and indubitably noble. His own white whale is a return to the life he destroyed in shutting everyone out and finding solace in food, in his working past his own self-loathing. It's not my place to keep badgering Walter on his own flaws, but there's a point where you have to admit that in the absence of a divulged weight gain fetish and in his added weight being a constant product of dietary negligence - as opposed to concerted efforts to gain weight - "how he is" is a really pithy excuse for something else. Depression, avoidant behavior or some weird form of call for help - whatever it is, something's clearly at play.

The problem is I'm not Walter. Because I love him, I can't force him to act. I can try to get him to open up, sure, but I haven't made much progress in that regard. Because I love him, I owe him to at least make it clear that I'm trying. If he wants to go down in a stroke after gaining so much weight his suits become impossible to afford, I'll be right there alongside him.

#the whale #darren aronofsky #brendan fraser #sadie sink #on obesity #on fatphobia #on bulemia

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malewifehenrycooldown · 2 years

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watching the boys, and honestly it’s not as bad as i thought it was going to be. like I had a really high bar in regards to its content, but honestly it’s not as bad. but maybe that’s because I know of the events that occur thanks to the original comic which is super fucking cynical as per garth ennis graphic novels and comics

#i might eat my words later in regards to the content but like.#i've seen this kind of shit before in like deathproof. kill bill. planet terror. the [rec] movies etc. etc.#that said i usually skip the stuff i'm uncomfortable with anyways #anyways *pulls billy butcher from the side* this man is my brother now.#sidenote: my ceramics teacher raved about this show when it first came out #shallow rambles #lmao do people know that billy butcher is so unhinged that he's frank castle but like at a powerlevel of 9000 #like literally in the comics he's so unhinged its amazing

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extravaguk · 4 years

Text

sex education 2.0

pairing: college!au, jungkook x reader

summary: "Are you calling me boring?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, looking at you dumbfounded and visibly offended. You roll your eyes, taking a napkin and leaning forward to wipe the crumbs of garlic bread on his lips.

"First of all, don't talk with your mouth full, you pig. Second of all," you stop to take a sip of your coke, aware of Jungkook's expectant eyes on you. "A little, yeah."

wordcount: 9k

genre: smut - angst(? not rlly - fluff, like tons bc im a slut for fluff

rated: m (duh!2.0)

warnings: alcohol and weed consumption, just jk and tae being bros having bro convos, switch!reader, switch!jk, but mostly dom!jk, dirty talk, glimpses of poorly written bdsm, reader being a jealous and ‘insecure little bitch’ (her words, not mine),slapping (dont worry i tried to make it funny), how i met your mother spoilers (sorry im a gemini i spoil shit), spanking, degradation kink, back at it again with the spit kink, slight anal play, beware!of jungkook being a sweetheart, a lil mean at the end but a sweetheart nontheless.

read sex education here!

Three months of being in an actual commitment with Jeon Jungkook, your brother's partner in crime since the young age of five and, therefore, a common denominator throughout your childhood and teenage years, has proven to you a few things you never knew you would discover about the boy himself: Jeon Jungkook is definitely not what you thought him to be.

You thought growing up with him would've been enough telltale about everything that made Jungkook be, well, Jungkook. He wasn't as immature as you had believed prior to the beginning of your relationship, he was funnier than you remembered -although maybe you found him funnier now that Taehyung wasn't in the picture to interfere with infantile inside jokes that you never were able to grasp-, and smarter than he had ever let you known before. Although you're sure the main reason his grades had started to improve was solely you and the way you rewarded him by opening your legs everytime he passed an exam.

But above all, if there was something that had truly surprised you about Jeon Jungkook was the fact that he was truly an absolutely and undeniably softie.

You loved it. Loved the random scribbled love notes he sometimes left in your backpack before kissing you goodbye to leave for his own class, loved the Spotify playlists he made exclusively just for you -with genres that varied between sappy and romantic and wanting to tear your 'wet ass pussy' in two-, loved the late night texts filled with emojis telling you how much he missed you when both of you were too busy doing assignments and studying to see each other -even if it hadn't even been 48 hours since you last saw each other-. You loved how careful and sweet and thoughtful he was. You really did.

But.

"Are you calling me boring?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, looking at you dumbfounded and visibly offended. You roll your eyes, taking a napkin and leaning forward to wipe the crumbs of garlic bread on his lips.

"First of all, don't talk with your mouth full, you pig. Second of all," you stop to take a sip of your coke, aware of Jungkook's expectant eyes on you. "A little, yeah." His mouth falls open and you supress a laugh. You really shouldn't be enjoying this so much, but there's something about Jungkook's reaction to his ego being bruised and that terribly adorable pout on his face that just makes your insides tingle with joy.

"What do you mean? I've had plenty of girls in bed before you, like a whole lot, and none of them have ever called me boring! They loved this adventurous and fun dick, alright? Why do you think-" you raise a brow, scrutinizingly. It still amazes you how with just a simple expression and no words needed, you can make all color from Jungkook's face banish and how quick he is to reach for your hand across his bed. "But I only love youuuu, and you're the best thing that has ever happened to me and my dick like, baby, have I mentioned how head over heels I'm for you?"

"Only like five times today." rolling your eyes again, you pull your hand from his to toy with the peperoni piece on your slice of pizza. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, he was starting to get truly concerned now. You couldn't possibly...?

"Are you not satisfied? I mean, do I not make you feel good or...?" there's clear worry in his voice and that makes you meet his eyes, shaking your head hurriedly. Now it's you who take his hand in yours.

"No! No, babe. I love sex with you! I love everything you do to me, I love how you treat me, I love how you make me feel. I'm a hundred percent satisfied, I swear, It's just..." you sigh, dropping your gaze to rub slow and reassuring circles to the ink adorning his skin. "All I'm saying is... I may also want to experience what all those girls have experienced with you, y'know... the not so vanilla stuff. But you always seem to be scared to try new things with me, and I don't know if it's because of m-"

"Baby," Jungkooks soft voice calls out to you, removing the pizza box in between the two of you to slide closer to you on the mattress. He craddles your face with his fingers, tilting your chin up to make eye contact with you. "_____, don't say that. I just don't ever want to cross any boundaries. I don't want to hurt you or do anything you might not like or regret later, you know that, right?" placing a small kiss on your lips, you hum in content nodding your head yes.

"I know that." you pull him for another brief kiss, oddly not caring about the faint taste of garlic and spice on them because that's what love will do to you. "But what if I do want you to hurt me? What if I want you to fuck my mouth with no mercy until I cry and slap my face after you've cum all over it while you call me a slut?" you pause, eyes meeting his through your eyelashes. "Or viceversa."

It's not that Jungkook is afraid. Because Jungkook is afraid of nothing in this world. He will murder any spider in his way, he will throw a punch to anyone who denies mint chocolate ice cream as the superior ice cream flavour -and he knows that means he will have to literally fight like the entire population on planet earth-, and he will Rey Mysterio you if you ever discredit or deny his incredible skills playing Overwatch.

Jeon Jungkook prides himself in being fearless in every aspect of his life. Except when it comes to you.

So yeah, maybe he was a little afraid. Because hearing you use the words 'choke', 'slap' and 'slut' in the same sentence did things to him that he didn't deem possible considering none of you were newbies anymore to intimicy. You have been together for three months, for God's sake, but you still made his cock twitch like the first day and he's sure in twenty years you'll have the exact same effect on him.

He didn't want his most primal instincts to overpower the respect and love he'd harboured for you since you were kids because at the end of the day, one, you were still his best friend's little sister, two, he appreciated you too much to ever cross any lines, and three, as cliché as it sounded, you were nothing compared to the girls he had been with previously. What he feels towards you cannot be compared to anything he had experienced before.

And fuck, was he in a predicament. Because you made him weak in his knees for you and you were not even aware of it. You were not aware of how badly he has wanted to explore and take things way further, way out of both his and your comfort zones. But he's terrified. He's terrified because all he wants is to to take care of you and what if he fails at the one thing he's swore to himself? What if he lets the darkest side of him consume him and at the same time consume you? What if he does actually hurt you, not just psichologically but also physically?

He would never be able to forgive himself. And neither could Taehyung.

And that, was also tormenting him.

Taehyung seemed fine with the two of you dating -or at least that blow to Jungkook's face seemed to ease things between them-, but Jungkook is not dumb and has felt his best friend slowly distancing himself.

Sure, they were still best friends and will ever will. Taehyung is loyal to Jungkook and Jungkook is loyal to Taehyung. Has been that way since they were five and that will not change just because Jungkook's caught feelings for his little sister.

But the phonecalls were not as often and not as long as they used to be; in rare occasions Jungkook could sense a certain type of awkwardness between them that really had never happened in their friendship, and sometimes Taehyung's jokes seemed to hold more truth than lightheartedness.

And to top it all off, Jungkook's dilemma regarding you was eating him alive and, usually he would turn to Taehyung for girl advice, only to later realize he was also frightened of doing that.

But a Friday night at 2 a.m, Jungkook decides he can't take it anymore.

"Sup, man." Taehyung's voice answers Jungkook's phone call on the second ring, like he always does.

"Hey, bro." Jungkook clears his voice, suddenly feeling self conscious. "Are you busy?"

"I don't know," his friend seems to be chewing on what Jungkook bets is red Skittles -yes, only the red ones- because he just knows him too well. "Are you busy still fucking my little sister?"

Taehyung chuckles at his own joke, but Jungkook doesn't. He knows there's no malice, but he can't help to think there might be. He settles for a sigh. "Yeah." he can hear some shuffling on the other side and the clicking of a computer mouse. Jungkook would also bet he was playing Among Us and he would lie if he said he wasn’t disappointed he hadn't called him to play with him. "Y'know what, it's not even important, I'll just call y-"

"Come on, man. You haven't even laughed at that and you usually laugh at everything I say even when no one else does." Taehyung swirls in his chair, his attention fully focused on his best friend. "Seriously, what's bothering you." Jungkook takes a deep breath, rubbing the side of his face.

"It's about _____."

"_____? As in, my little sister? Who you're fucking?"

"Tae, dude-"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Go on." Taehyung stiffles a laugh and waits patiently for Jungkook to continue.

"She um... Fuck, I hope this isn't weird, dude. I really do. She wants to like... rough it up in the bedroom, I guess? And I just... I don’t know... I'm terrified dude." There's silence filling the gap between Taehyung and Jungkook and Jungkook almost feels like throwing up.

"You're coming to me for sex advice... about my little sister?"

"I know, dude but... Who else I'm supossed to talk to? Jimin? Hoseok?" Jungkook sits up on his bed, an ugly knot beginning to form in his stomach. "I mean, you're my best friend," Jungkook swallows again, voice cracking. "...right?"

It's Taehyung's turn to sigh after a few seconds before he replies. "Forever and always, bro." His tone settles Jungkook's uneasiness. There's nothing but honesty in it. "Listen, Guk. I really don't know what kind of advice to give you because, literally, ew. But I do know my sister, and if that's what she wants and she's communicated with you about it, it’s because she trusts you. And I trust you more than anyone in my life. So there you go, man."

Relief washes all over Jungkook's body and he lays back on the bed again, heart not beating as hard as it was a few seconds ago.

"Thanks, dude." Jungkook smiles. "Sorry for calling you so late."

"No problem, bro." Taehyung smiles as well, swirling his chair back to his computer screen. A weight of his own being lifted. "Among Us next time?"

"Yeah, I'll let you know. Good night, bro."

Taehyung calls Jungkook's name before he can hang up. "Hey, man?"

"Yeah, man?"

There's a pause between them and then Taehyung speaks. "I love you, man."

Jungkook supresses the threat of tears about to spill because he knows Taehyung would try to bruise his other other eyebrow if he ever found out. Or hug him to death. Or both.

"I love you too, bro."

"This reminds me of the first time you gave me a blowjob." Jungkook chuckles, watching you get down on your knees between his spread thighs, make up free and sporting a similar low messy bun as that time he's mentioning, except this time you're wearing one of his hoodies engulfing your smaller frame. Proof that this time around, you're exclusively his and no one else’s.

"You mean the blowjob of your life." you giggle as you reach out to pull down his sweatpants, deligthed to see he decided on not wearing any underwear. Your spit on the back of your hand and immediately wrap it around the base of his rock hard cock while his own darts out to push the strands falling down your face behind your ear, heart eyes emoji looking down at you looking up at him.

Your tongue swirls around the tip timidly, swallowing the drop of precum oozing as he sighs heavily and lovingly. "Every blowjob you give me is the blowjob of my life." he unties your hair from the band holding it together because he prefers his fingers to be the hair tie, prefers to be the one to guide the bobbing of your head up and down his dick.

You hum in appreciation against him, cherry balmed lips wrapping fully around the head of his cock and he hums back. "Love seeing you on your knees for me with your pretty mouth stuffed, fuck." You take him deeper, closing your eyes.

Your hand moving accordingly to your mouth and your panties already wet, clinging to your folds. It's really not your fault Jungkook is the most delicious eye candy on earth and how fast can the mere sight of him make your pussy lips quiver. You slurp around the head obscenely , a moan of yours mixing with a moan of his. "Hands on your back."

You obligue, removing your hands and growing excited at the dominating low tone his voice exerts. The grip he has on your hair tightens and controls your motions, pushing you further down his dripping shaft until your nose hits his pubic bone. He holds you there, his own eyes closing shut and his dick twitching insde your mouth. A thrust of his hips make you gag and has one of your hands flying to tap his leg two times, letting him know you were in need for air.

He releases you, pulling you back until his cock is pulsating in front of you. He looks down at you, both breathless but the difference is you look so messy. Eyes watery, chest moving heavily and saliva leaking from your lips.

Yeah, there was a reason Jungkook hasn't been like this with you before. The sight of you submitting completely and looking so nasty was too much for him to handle. He might never want to see you any other way than this.

"Isn't this what you wanted, huh?" the free hand that had been supporting his weight on the matress grasps your face harshly, making you lock eyes with him.

"I thought you wanted me to choke you with my cock like a little whore?" you nod your head eagerly, unable to form words. Your pussy throbs, prompting you to rub your thighs to get some sort of relief as his thumb smears the spit adorning your lips. You're quick to envelop it in the warmth of your mouth, an involuntary moan leaving your throat. "Such a pretty slut," he lets his cock slap against your cheek, removing his thumb to move his hand back to his previous position. "Open again."

You do, his length entering your mouth again -that you gladly accept- and then he's shoving you down by your hair. "Shit, gonna fuck your mouth so good..."

And he does, not holding back anymore, his hand thrusting your head along his shaft until your throat tightens around him repeteadly, struggling for breath. But you take it, you take the aggresiveness and the degradation because fuck, you've been waiting for so long to know what this feels like. To have Jungkook be mean and have this type of control and power over you and you're enjoying it a bit too much.

"F-fuck, I'm gonna cum, leave your mouth open." he releases on your tongue, not able to look away from the image of you with tears falling down your eyes and mouth drenched with him and your spit, some of his cum staining down your chin and the corners of your lips that he gathers with his thumb and pushes back into your mouth. He groans, watching you swallow all of it like a good girl, your tongue grazing around his digit for the remainings, gaze not leaving his. "Let me grab my phone real quick, I need to take a picture of this."

You were definitely not the jealous type.

You prided yourself on being able to recognize when your behaviours were due to your own insecurities and removing all sorts of feelings of uncertainty from your mind. You never liked toxic patterns or the glamorization of them and your relationship with Jungkook was proof. You knew relationships were supossed to be based on blind trust and faith in your partner and yours definitely reciprocated in the same way.

"So can anybody tell me why Eunha is basically all over my boyfriend right now?" you wish you could blame your state on Hoseok's weed, who's sitting on the left side of the couch right next to you at the frat party. You really wish you could have an explanation for the way your heart tugged in such a weird way and your stomach swirled dangerously until almost making you nauseous. You really tried to blame your overthinking on the joint you had just passed to your friend.

You knew it was bound to happen someday, especially considering Jungkook had always been a ladies' man and the kind of attraction from both men and women he was able to manifest, willing or unwillingly. You just never thought it would happen so soon and in such way that made you clench your fists so tight and your nails dig into the palm of your hands so painfully.

"I mean, they did have like a long fling a few years ago, didn't they?" Seulgi, sitting on your right, chimes in.

That was true. Longer than most flings Jungkook ever had before you.

"Yeah, before she dumped him." Hoseok adds.

Your eye twitches and your jaw contracts. Because that, was also true, and it was mostly what was bothering you so much.

Had it been Jungkook the one to move away from his situationship with Eunha like with most girls, you wouldn't have such a problem with the way she's shamelessly leaning towards him from across the room. Or the way she's twirling a strand of her hair between one of her fingers while battling her lashes. Or the way she's hysterically laughing at whatever he was saying, because your boyfriend was funny, but he was not that funny.

You were not the jealous type, and Jungkook definitely wasn't giving you any reason to be, because as coquettish as the blonde was being or as provocatively as she was pushing her tits into his arm, he politely keeps his distance and tries to also engage with Jimin in conversation, leaving her pouting. But that wasn't enough to not make you start seriously questioning your feminist ethics right now.

"Wait, you're not jealous, are you?" Seulgi turns to you, offering you the joint -how long had you been focusing your attention on Jungkook and Eunha to not realize it was your turn again to smoke?-. You take it, hesitating between answering right away or taking a hit before doing that. You were never a good liar. You look between your two friends who are looking back at you with their eyebrows raised.

"I-" you close your mouth and run your fingers through your hair. "Maybe? I don't know what I'm feeling and I don't like it one bit."

"Aw, babe." Seulgi squeezes your knee, eyes showing you sympathy. "Jealousy is a natural response to any relationship."

"I know..." you take the joint in your hand, taking a long drag before letting the smoke out. "I just don't want to sound like an insecure little bitch!" you whine. "I don't want to be like 'Oh, why would Jeon Jungkook, a God of the Olympus, dare give his attention to a peasant as unworthy as me!?' Like no, he's just a man. A little less mediocre than most but a man nontheless. I'm not going to doubt myself or other women just because he's more beautiful than most, and hotter, and funnier and has a massive co-" you notice you're getting carried away by the look of disgust in Hoseok's face and Seulgi trying to hold back a laugh.

"Anyways, he's lucky to have me. We're both lucky to have each other but sometimes I feel like I might be the luckiest out of the two. And seeing Eunha looking so pretty and throwing herself at him is triggering me because..." you pause to take a deep breath and lounch back on the couch. "What if he realizes one day that I'm luckier than he is and he could be luckier with someone else?"

There's, ironically, a long silence. Ironically because the sound of Travis Scott making the walls tremble is anything but, until Hoseok speaks.

"I think you feel that way because you still haven't seen how that boy looks at you, _____." and then he motions to the spot from across the room you had been observing for too long, the spot where Jungkook is now glancing at you after noticing your detectable distress, with a frown on his features.

'You okay?' he mouthes, his fist raising in the air in a thumbs up, questioningly.

Your heart jerks, and not out of bitterness or envy caused by a girl trying to get your boyfriend's attention. Because his attention is always entirely on you, no matter how many feet are separating the two of you.

'Yes' you mouth back, with a nod of your head and an encouraging smile that has formed itself on your face. He beams as well at you. Mouthes an 'I love you' and puckers his lips in a flying kiss that makes you giggle. You mimic him, your heart tight against your chest.

Hoseok is right. You have nothing to worry about.

Jungkook is in love with you. Sometimes, he thinks, he's too in love with you.

"Can't believe I'm letting you do this."

"Can't believe you're such a pussy."

Jungkook huffs in annoyance. He would smack your ass right now if his hands weren't restricted by a scarf of yours he had never seen before to your bedpost. He would also send you a mean look if his eyes weren't covered by the only tie he owned and had so generously lent to you.

When you mentioned you wanted to try this, he expected you to be in this position. Not the other way around.

He's sprawled on your bed, only his boxers covering him as your legs straddle his waist and you tighten the hold of the scarf around his wrists sternly. He winces and manages an 'Hey!' He knows you're only wearing your panties because he can't feel anything else and he's felt one of your naked tits brushing his face as you tied him up. He also tried to catch one of your nipples in his mouth as a form of punishment, to no use because you swiftly backed away from his attempt.

"I've never been a bottom before, this is new for me." he says. He really doesn't mind any of this. He's just not used to it. He knows he'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on a little bit, even if he'd rather be the one to have you completely unmoving and naked beneath him. Especially now that you're skimming your nails up and down his torso.

"Mm, good to know." your lips follow the path your fingers created, from the center of his chest up, moving steadily and tracing soft kisses over his flesh.

"Don't worry. I'll be gentle." you croon, dragging your tongue from the pulse of his neck to his earlobe, nails scraping lightly over his left nipple. Jungkook shudders, air sucked in through his teeth as his mouth opens on its own. Taking advantage of this, you place a kiss on the corner of his lips before slipping your tongue inside.

He answers simultaniously, his own tangling with yours, swallowing each other's moans. Your hips set a slow peace, clothed cad core griding over the length poking between your thighs. His hips move unvoluntarily, trying to find some sort of friction to make up for the fact that his hands are unavailable to knead your ass and pull you closer, if that was even possible.

You separate from him, raising on your knees. Jungkook whines in protest, hips buckling up from the mattress to try to meet yours again.

"Jungkook, I'm serious, stay still!"

"I take it back." his voice shaky and hands straining against the tight hold the scarf you tied around has on them. "I don't like this. Untie me so I can fuck you, babe." he complains. You sit on his tiny waist, your thighs trying to stop his movements.

You take a moment to assess him. He looks too beautiful for his own good: hair courtaning his forehead, biceps bulging and abs flexing. You can't see his eyes but you know they might be glassy. You bite your lip to supress a whine of delight. You almost consider doing as he says. Almost.

But you mantain your ground. Your jealousy from the other night had been crawling slowly from within these past few days and since you couldn't take it out on Jungkook any other way because he really wasn't to blame, you figured you'd try something new to punish him and let some of your supressed anger vanish.

Twisting your body back to pull down his boxers, not all the way, just enough to have his cock springing free from the confines of the fabric and slapping against your asscheeks.

"Has toxic masculinity seriously polluted your brain so much you can't take this seriously?" you fall forward, one of your hands balancing you beside his head as the other wraps around his neck, a tentative hold not yet to constrict his breathing.

He gulps, his body's tense and his Adam's apple is prominent under your touch. All he can see is black but he'd do anything to watch your pretty tits bouncing in front of his face. "I don't like this conversation either." he pouts.

"Then why are you so hard?" you grin, holding yourself back from laughing as he hesitates for an answer. You lean closer, mouth against his ear as you whisper. "I'm so wet right now, I could take you just like this. No lubrication at all and my pussy would just swallow your dick." Feeling his girth still between your ass flutter, clearly affected by the sultry tone of your voice. You remove your hand from his neck seeing as he has stopped moving obediently. Reaching back, you slide your panties to the side and align your entrance to the head of his leaking cock.

"Fuck, baby, please~" Jungkook's pleads fills the air, hips desperately back in motion and sliding just a few inches inside your drenched heat. The warmth envoles him instantly, your pussy pulsates around him and neither of you can't help the in synch groans tearing from your throats.

"Just the tip" you lick your lips, your voice betraying you as you resist the urge to glide the rest of his lenght inside your quivering core.

"Just the tip, my ass."

Out of sudden, Jungkook is swiftly lifting his hips from the matress, sinking all the way in. You cry as your body jumps forward, face hidden in the juncture of Jungkook's sweaty neck. His thick cock stretches you out as nice and deep and perfectly as he always does. You mewl. This was not supossed to happen at all.

"See? This is what you really wanted." you can hear the chuckle threatening to spill from his lips, anger starting to boil inside of you again.

Regaining a little bit of your lost control, you lift yourself on your trembling knees and sit back again, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix. You groan in unision, placing your hands on the hard planes of his chest and steadying yourself to try to reclaim your dominance. Finding it troublesome, because Jungook is set on having it his own way, his thrusts meeting yours in perfect synch.

You really shouldn't feel your climax approaching so soon but somehow battling for control while bickering with Jungkook is about to send you over the edge and that's making you even more annoyed.

"I swear to God, Jungkook. If you don't stop moving and shut the fuck up..." your murmur through gritted teeth, jaw slackened and eyes fluttering shut.

"What?" he spats, breathing rugged and voice coarse. "If I don't shut up, you'll wha-"

The sound of a sharp smack echoes inside your room and Jungkook's movements freeze on the spot. His head is turned to the side from the impact, and a faint print of your fingers is adorning his already stinging cheek. None of you mutter anything for a few seconds, until concerned words start to rush out of you.

"Ohmygod, Jungkook, I-"

"Did you just slap me?" Jungkook is unmoving, his mouth agape and you can picture the incredulous expression his eyes might be oozing. "Baby, what the fuck?!" You're mortified. Your hands cover your mouth and your eyes, wide open, stare down at him although he can't stare at you back.

"Babe, I don't know why I did that, you wouldn't stop talking and I know that's not an excuse but it-"

"It was fucking hot." a breathy laugh in disbelief leaves his chest. Your forehead creases, hands falling down to your chest to try to steady your incessant heartbeat. His tongue darts between his pearly teeth, a smug smirk on his features. An eyebrow of yours raises as you size him up, the realization that his body is completely motionless now hitting you.

Lurging forward, you pinch his jaw between your fingers, your hips carry on their grinding on their own accord. He releases a raspy moan, your walls clenching around him as another hit strikes his cheek, softer this time.

"You gonna be good to me?" you mutter against his lips. He nods slowly, his mouth salivating as your hips swirl on top of him. He blindly tries to reattach his mouth to yours, but you dodge him, going for the skin of his clavicle instead. "Can I fuck you slow like this until you're filling me with your cum?" He squirms when he feels you sucking a pretty purple bruise on his flesh, your cunt dropping all the way down his cock, leisurly grinding against his pelvic bone, looking yourself to find some relief to your clit.

"Ah!" his head tilts back, back slighlt arching as you soothe the mark on his neck with your tongue. "That m-might be s-sooner than you think, babe" he admits timorously, swallowing the lump in his throat, the veins on his neck on full display.

You sigh in content because, thankfully your orgasm is also closer than he thinks it is. "M-me too-" you gasp, your face buried on his shoulder, letting your fingers brush his ebony hair, nails gently scrapping his scalp as you keep the tortuous movements of your hips against his, his girth hitting that spot just right everytime until you feel the knot in your tummy finally snapping. "C-cum, J-Jungkook, I-m-"

Jungkook doesn't need to be told twice because he has been holding back from it for a while now, not really willing to admit he was enjoying this as much as he was. With a thrust of his own fused with the way your pussy is tightening around him it's enough to send him over the edge, an unpredicted cry emanating from his vocal chords harmonizing with your own, his whole body tensing as your walls milk every single drop of his cum.

For several minutes you stay just like that. Jungkook's hands still tied, blindfold still on, his mouth still agape as his chest rises and falls until his breathing becomes steady again. And you, on top, your fingers tangled in his dark locks, your breath fanning against his neck and his release dripping down your thighs. You stay like that until your body starts shaking with uncontrollable laughter.

Jungkook tilts his head towards yours, eyebrows furrowing and eyes still covered.

"What was that noise?" you manage through your giggle fit. "'Aaah!'" You've never made a noise like that before, I can't- it was so funn-"

Even while still being strained and blindfolded and with you making fun of him, a loopsided goofy smirk starts making an appearence on Jungkook's features.

Fancy dinner parties were never your thing.

Wearing heels that were too high -specifically to try to match Jungkook's height-, a new expensive dress that you were surely going to return as soon as the event was over because you definitely could not afford it and socializing with Jungkook's clique was definitely not the way you envisioned your Saturday night going.

At least Jungkook had barely been able to keep his hands for himself at the sight of you wrapped in emerald green silk and lace. But even that couldn't make you feel less uncomfortable and out of place.

Yugyeom, one of Jungkook's friends, had definitely more money than your boyfriend had previously let you know. Apparently, being a 'lil rich' as Jungkook had mentioned meant booking a luxurious restaurant to hold a dinner party with at least fifty people who looked just as 'lil rich' as Yugyeom's Gucci tuxedo.

'It'll be alright babe. Yugyeom always insists on celebrating his birthday like it's an Oscar after party. We'll just eat some of that disgusting caviar and then head home to watch Netflix, I swear'.

And yes, caviar was gross, but so was the fact that Jungkook had failed to mention a certain someone would also be making an appearence.

After introducing you to a few of his friends and realizing that Mingyu's frendliness and amiability helped you feel more relaxed, he had excused himself to the bathroom, leaving you and his friend to entangle in a heated conversation about How I Met Your Mother's finale season.

You were thankful for Mingyu's humble nature and easygoing talk for a few minutes until you finally spotted your boyfriend making his way back into the room, stopping in his tracks to acknowledge a group of friends from his class.

Again, you wouldn't have such a problem with a certain blonde if she would just stop looking at Jungkook with stars in her eyes and pressing her cleavage against him while playing with her hair. It was hard to keep track of your conversation with Mingyu while Eunha was standing right next to your boyfriend and seemingly ogling up at him. It was also hard to not let your mind waver to dangerous territory when you took notice of how disgustingly good they looked together.

Just two attractive people who would look disgustingly good together.

Mingyu's voice makes you turn back to him.

"...I don't know, like, Barney was a womanizer until Robin, you know? He changed for her! They were just perfect for each other, but they had to throw it all away by killing the mother and then making Robin marry Ted? And Barney going back to his old ways?" Mingyu sounds exhasperated and you would laugh and find it cute if your stomach wasn't tugging again in a way that made you regret drinking so much wine so fast. Specially after his last statement.

"That's what I'm saying." you mumble, turning your attention back to your boyfriend in the crowd.

Jungkook wouldn't go back to his old ways. He loves you. There's nothing to worry about.

But as you watch him start to make his way towards you, you also watch the way Eunha grabs the sleeve of his blazer to pull him back. She leans in, whispers something in his ear to which he just shakes his head, says something that it's impossible to decipher from here you're standing and simply walks in your direction.

Still, as much as you tried to be neutral and objective and not a 'jealous little bitch', it's almost impossible to hide the sour expression on your face. It's impossible to unclench your jaw throughout the entire evening or lose the too tight grip on your glass of wine. Even when Jungkook whispers in your ear if you're okay, you merely nod yes. You avoid eye contact with him and everytime he tries to slip your hand into his, you dodge him it by wrapping your arms around yourself, claiming how cold it is.

Jungkook is not dumb.

He know something's up but he's also not stupid enough to cause a scene in public or preassure you into talking. So he settles on wating and being patient. Even as he slips his jacket on your stiff shoulders with pouty lips and his eyebrows drawn together, all he does is press a small kiss to the back of your neck. It takes all power within you to not throw yourself in his arms.

But as midnight approaches and it's time to leave, you notice a change in Jungkook's behaviour as you say your goodbyes. His hand on your back is not just a soft caress, instead, his fingers pull you closer, dig into your skin as he drags the both of you to where his car is parked. Now it's him who avoids your gaze. His tensed jaw and his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek is a visible indicator that Jungkook is pissed.

You know his body language as well as he knows yours. And now, as he opens the door of the passanger seat so you can slide in, the guilt and the remorse of acting cold towards him for hours is finally dawning on you.

"Are you going to tell me now what was that about?" when he closes his own door shut, he doesn't bother to put his seatbelt on. Just grips the steering wheel as he turns to you.

"I-I don't know what you're t-"

"You don't know what I'm talking about?" he laughs, not a bit of humour in it. "I know scenes like this make you feel uncomfortable but I actually thought everything was going fine. I leave you for five minutes with Mingyu and when I come back, you won't look at me, won't touch me, won't act like I'm your boyfriend. Like I did something wrong. So please, _____, tell me, what's going on?"

You know there's no excuse for the way you acted. You know it's not Jungkook's fault he attracts attention and it most definitely not his fault if an ex of his is still hung up on him. You know it's your own fault and you know you should not try to excuse yourself and fight back. You'd swore to yourself you'd push down any feelings of jealousy deep inside until they disappeared. But something about tonight makes you explode.

"Why was she being all over you?"

Jungkook's face twists in confusion. "What? Who?"

"Eunha! Who the fuck else? She was all over you a few weeks ago at Minghao's party, and she was all over you tonight!" your voice is louder than you would've liked but at this point all you care about is letting it all out.

"This is what all of that was about? Eunha?"

"Yes! I've seen her on campus as well! Always trying to get your attention! I don't care that you have friends in common, but specially tonight, she whispered something to you and she was looking at you like she-"

"Who cares how she looks at me? All you need to care about is how I look at you because the only thing I care about is how you look at me!" Jungkook exclaims, clearly exhausted of this conversation.

You sink in your seat and look away as the knuckles on his hands turn white from gripping the steering wheel.

"_____," he calls you gently, but his voice mantains a stern tone to it. "We don't do jealousy. I thought we were supossed to trust each other blindly. Have I not proved to you how sickenly in love with you I am? Do you not trust me and what I feel?"

"I-... Of course I do. I-just... I don't know. You're right. That was uncalled for." you wrap yourself in the warmth of Junkook's blazer, trying to make his scent wash away any ugly resentment and guilt in your body.

"Wanna know what she said to me?" a rethorical question, because he was going to tell you anyway. "She asked me if I was going to stay for Yugyeom's after party, way past midnight. Wanna know what I said?" he turns to you. "I said no, I'm spending the night with my girlfriend."

None of you say nothing after that. He just puts his seatbelt on and starts driving. It's not too much of a far drive to his dorm, but the silence and the awkwardness makes it feel so much longer than it should be. You don't remember the last time Jungkook was mad at you. Actually, you don't think Jungkook has ever been mad at you. He loved the banter, loved to tease you, loved being competitive with you. But you had never seen him being avoidant of you. And that feeling tears your heart on the seat of his car.

"Are you mad at me?" you ask, voice barely audible, when the car stops at a red light. His dark eyes meet yours, his face immediately softening as he studies your expression. Then he picks one of your small hands in one of his big ones, brings it to his lips and lightly kisses your knuckles. He communicates with his eyes what he doesn't with words and it's enough to make you feel secure, at least for now.

When you finally arrive at Jungkook's room, he holds the door ope for you and lets you walk in, but he's still unusually quiet. So much so, you start to worry you might have fucked up big time.

You stand there, not knowing what to do as you watch him sit down on his bed, slipping his shoes and socks off and loosening the tie around his neck. His hair, that was perfectly styled a few hours ago, is now messy by the amount of times his hand has pushed it back. He looks too yummy, and you hate the fact that tension and a little bit of fighting has managed to make him look as delectable.

You ignore the heat starting to form in your belly because now it's not the time to be horny. Not when you still need to apologize and make things right. He's rolling the sleeves of his black shirt down his forearms when you decide to speak.

"Jungkook, I'm very sorry." you start, as you remove his blazer off you and place it on the chair right in front of his desk. "I don't know why I acted the way I did. I dont get easily jealous and I really don't think I am but..." your throat constricts your words for a moment. "The more I love you, the more frightened I get when I think that one day you'll realize I'm better off as your best friend's little sister. I-I dont know what I'd do with myself if that ever happene-"

"Take off your dress." Jungkook's impassive voice and emotionless face startles you and you freeze on your feet.

"What?"

"Did I stutter?"

His elbows rest on his knees and he's holding your stare with his. His doe eyes lack that free spirited and amusing glint they usually have. He looks bored, scrutinizing you. He's not challenging you. He's commanding you because he knows you will obligue.

That's why you gulp and slowly slide the straps of your dress down your arms until the fabric pools at your feet. His eyes waver along your naked breasts, nipples perking up like the mere intensity of his gaze is ordering them to. He doesn't make a move and doesn't say anything for a few seconds. He doesn't compliment you like he normally would at the sight of you almost naked in front of him.

His lack of words make you feel insecure, regardless of how turned on you are. You're used to Jungkook being reassuring, you're used to his lighthearted jokes and his playful kisses in the bedroom. But you're not used to Jungkook telling you what to do and keeping his distance while doing so. Your arms move on their own to hide yourself.

"Don't. If you hide from me, I swear to God, _____." he watches you as you let your arms fall back to your sides, your chest moving up and down while you struggle to breathe. You can't deny Jungkook's gruff voice and his eyes studying every bit of skin available to him like he hasn't seen you naked before is not making your underwear stick to your lower lips.

"JK, I just don't think this is the right moment to-"

"On my lap." your heart skips a bit, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

"Jungkook-"

"I said, get on my lap, face down." he says again, this time slower. One of his eyebrows quirk up. "Or would you rather me drag you myself? Or make you crawl?"

Your eyes widen, and your feet are quick to approach him. Your nipples tingle, your core is throbbing and your cheeks are adorned by a beautiful blush that Jungkook doesn't miss.

He doesn't move until you're in front of him, just to help you lower yourself on his lap, your cheek and your nipples touching the mattress and your ass up. You close your eyes when Jungkook skims his fingertips over your skin, his carressing relaxing your body until he eases your nerves a bit. He sighs when he notices the way that poor excuse of a thong sticks between your folds as his strong hands massage your buttcheeks.

He's taking his time, his fingers gliding over your soft skin, his breathing too calm for your liking. Until one palm of his hand collides sharply against your right cheek, sending your body forward. You gasp, the stinging making your body want to pull away. But he's quick to catch both your wrists behind your back, keeping you in place.

"Jungk-!"

Another smack, this time harder, on the same cheek.

"Did I give you permission to talk?"

Smack. This time on the left cheek. Your back arches on its own will, presenting more of your ass to him unwittingly. Your eyes squeezed shut and bite the inside of your cheek as you rub your thighs together. You keep quiet as his hand lands another blow on your ass.

"That's a good girl. Now," his voice is gentler this time as his hand soothe your reddened cheeks. "do you think what you did tonight was okay?" you say nothing, only a mewl slips past your lips. Another smack. "Answer me."

"No." you lick your lips, anticipating more.

"Do you think it was funny to pull a stunt like that?"

Smack.

"N-no!"

"No, it wasn't. Spread your legs for me." you do as you're told and he finally pulls down the drenched piece of lace down your thighs. He leans forward, spreads your cheeks with one hand as he lets a glob of spit fall directly into your lips. He makes you gasp when his fingers start sliding up and down your folds slowly.

"I've had to put up with this kind of behavour since the day you begged me to fuck this tight, virgin pussy like the little slut you are." you whine, face red as humiliation starts to creep in. Jungkook slips one finger in, pumping it slow and easy. Your hips move to take him deeper.

"I tried to be a gentleman, you know?" he says, adding a second finger. "I've tried to treat you nice and sweet and be the best boyfriend I could be to make you happy and keep you satisfied in every sense of the word." his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tortuous circles.

"Been compeletely whipped since I kissed you for the first time. Haven't looked at other girls because I just can't when I have everything I want to look at right in front of me." murmuring, he starts to get lost your pussy and how it swallows his fingers and how obscene you look and sound, dripping right on his trousers. He watches his fingers moving in and out, almost hypnotized. "Yet, somehow..." he pulls away. You whimper in protest.

"Somehow, you still seem to doubt me." His hand smacks your cheek again, wet fingers spreading your essence all over your skin.

"P-please, please." you cry. You miss Jungkook's sadistic smile before he releases the grip on your wrists, still keeping you on his lap. Both his hands spread your cheeks now, and another glob of spit falls right into your asshole. His fingers find your cunt again, easily taking you almost over the edge.

"If you could only look at yourself right now... All spread out for me like a needy whore in heat" his thumb teases your unexplored rim, hesitantly, coating it with his spit and your own arousal. He presses in slowly. You gasp, your body tenses and Jungkook stills his movements immediately. There's silence for a few seconds.

"Too far? Should I stop?" and there's your Jungkook, concern lacing his voice. His free hand caresses your back, your body relaxing, laying back down obediently. His fingers are still inside you and his thumb is still asking for entrance. He leans forward, placing a small but comforting kiss on the bruised skin of your right asscheek.

"Go on." you whisper, but he doesn't move right away. This time, it's his own body that tenses momentarely before going back to his tranquil demeanor. He breathes through his noise as his fingers pick up where they left off.

"Yeah?" you swear you hear him swallow a lump in his throat. "Gonna let me finger this tight little ass like a good slut? Mm?" his thumb slides deeper, slightly stretching you out while his fingers work your pussy in a solid rhythm. "Gonna let me stretch you out little by little until I can open you up with my cock one day?" his movements speed up, fingers sliding out of your cunt to play with your clit and his thumb slowly moving in and out. "You don't wanna talk now? You just want to stay silent while I fuck your ass and-"

And then you're cumming, so unexpected it takes both of you by surprise. Your hands grip onto Jungkook's sheets, your thighs clasp around his hand as you scream his name. He doesn't stop though. He rides you through it, encouraging words mixing with filthy insults that prolong your orgasm until you're squirming beneath him.

"Shit, baby... My hand is soaked." he mumbles, as he slowly removes his fingers and thumb from you. "You okay?"

You faintly nod your head yes, not able to find words through your dry mouth and your pussy still convulsing.

"Good. Get on the bed. On your hands and knees."

You somehow manage to slip from his lap and position yourself as he says. Except your arms and legs are shaking. Although the sound of Jungkook undoing his belt and his hands gripping your hips and bringing you towards him until the head of his dick is at your entrance is enough to make you forget about how tired your body is. You surrender to him, not even bothering to hold yourself up on your arms, your fingers crumbling the sheets and your face buried into the pillow.

When his cock enters you, a pitiful moan leaves your mouth. His thick lenght slides into your heat, filling you perfectly as he always does. It's a wonder how well he fits inside you.

"Such a perfect slut for me. Always ready for me to do whatever I want with her, since day one. So tight, so ready. So, so perfect. All mine." he talks as measured as he moves, dragging each word out as his hips find a nice tempo.

Then he doesn't move for a while with his dick buried between your walls, and you know he's holding himself back. You turn your head slightly to look at him. He catches your eyes instantly. Sees your mascara running down your watery eyes, and your smudged lipstick and your messy hair and then he's giving you that look. That look that lets you know that Jungkook is, indeed, whipped for you. Leaning in, he presses his shirt-covered chest to your sweaty, naked back. His cock dives deeper, not an ounce of space between you as he lovingly kisses your cheek until his mouth finds yours.

He kisses you hard but soft, tongue meeting yours for the first time since you entered the room. Jungkook is not a man of words. He's silly, and a jokester, and finds it difficult to express how he's feeling. But when he kisses you, or looks at you, when he touches you, or when he makes love to you, even if it's as dirty and filthy as right now, he's always able to transmit exactly what he can't vocally.

He's telling you there's no other place he'd rather be than here, with you.

When he pulls back, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, his hand moves to the back of your head, fisting your hair in a tight hold that makes you arch your back and desperately moan for him.

"A-and you're mine." you sob.

It's like something snaps inside of him. He growls and suddenly his hips lose control. He nails you against the mattress, his grip on your hair pulling your head back, his lips against your ear as your cunt clenches around his cock.

"Just yours. All yours." his grunts send shivers down your spine and you're close again, even in the painful and uncomfortable position your body is in. Being at Jungkook's mercy and him being at yours is enough to have you seeing starts.

"This is the only pussy I want wrapped around my cock. Your lips are the only ones I want to kiss. You're the only one I want between my arms." It only takes two flickers of Jungkook's free hand against your nub and his next words to tip you over. "You belong to me, and I belong to you."

You squeal as you come, and Jungkook bites your shoulder to keep himself from doing so as well as he follows shortly. He fills you up with his release, but he doesn't release you from him. He wraps his arms around your frame, both your bodies becoming soft as he rolls over to one side with your back still pressed to his chest, cock still inside you. His lips find their way to the skin of your shoulder and the back of your neck. His breath fanning your flesh makes you smile.

"That is so not like my sister. I'm telling you, she never gets jealous." Taehyung says over the phone. He's munching on something again and Jungkook would bet all the money in his wallet again he's eating Skittles. Red Skittles. "So, everything cool now?"

"Yeah, man. We just talked it out, you know?" Jungkook's gaze falls on you, laying on your stomach on his bed, laptop iluminating your face, earbuds on and your head moving to whatever music you're listening to. Jungkook would bet all the money in his bank account it's Shape Of My Heart by The Backstreet Boys. Or at least that's what he's been able to guess so far. He was never good at reading lips, specially when trying to guess boybands' lyrics.

Friday's nights meant late 1990's/early 2000's pop nostalgia for you. It meant shaking his head and spending the following week trying to get Britney and Xtina songs out of his brain for him. Although lately, he hadn't been trying that hard. Jungkook sighs in content, not really trying to cover the fact that he might be looking at you like a starstruck teenager. Which, it was totally fair because that's exactly how he feels about you. "Communication is key, bro."

He keeps watching you until your head perks up and catch him gawking. You smile at him and he smiles back.

"By 'communication is key' you mean you actually fucked my little sister silly right? Bro, I swear, I'll block your numb-"

"Sorry man, gotta go."

"And now you're gonna fuck her silly again, right? You son of a b-"

Jungkook hangs up just as you take your earbuds off, making his way to you to kiss you silly.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #FINALLY #took me a month to gain motivation and inspiration back!!!

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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

Note

could you do the anxious tics prompt with fo3 and new vegas companions? sorry, i think i’ve asked you to add characters a lot but i just really love your writing ^^”

FO3 and FONV Romanced! Companions react to Lone's/Six's Anxiety Tics

Here you are, my love. Please never feel bad about requesting more people! It's honestly what I live for, and I loooooove making content for the FO3 and NV folks, since I feel like there's a lot less written about them in general 😊

So thank you so much for the ask!

Here is the prompt with FO4 Companions!

FO3

Butch:

The flash of large red-framed letters had caught Butch’s attention as the pair stood waiting to speak to Doc Church outside his clinic in Megaton. “Whatcha got there, babe?” he had asked, before realizing that it was, in fact, exactly what he had thought. Lone blushed as they looked up at him, hiding behind the pages of their comic book. “You really kept that? After all these years?” They had nodded to him, explaining that it was a sort of security blanket for them, that they could always count on reading the same story, seeing the same happy ending each time they looked between the pages, each time they felt uncertainty or stress, they could count on Grognak to see them through it. He grinned whenever he saw them with it, often curling up beside them, or leaning his head on their shoulder to try and read along with them. In these cases, Lone had to read the pages slower than they normally would, reading the same comic book over and over for the last 10 years means you can skim through it pretty quickly, but they don’t really seem to mind. Now they get to watch as this person that they care so much for enjoys the comic book they relied on and adored for so long.

Charon:

The ghoul was curious about Lone’s tendency to nap directly after dealing with stressful situations, but he decided not to voice any inquiries. His companion would explain themself if they wanted him to know more. One day, they did. Lone had thanked him for always looking after them while they rested off their anxiety, and mentioned that it was something they couldn’t help. Charon had nodded at them, acknowledging their gratitude, before his blue eyes had narrowed in his effort to process the rest of what they had said. It seemed strange to him, sleeping off nerves... Wouldn’t that make it more difficult to sleep? He decided that the logic of it didn’t really matter, whatever it was that caused it, he would look after his partner as they took the time to rest. Soon enough, they would beckon for him to join them, leaning against his shoulder or laying their head in his lap as he kept watch over them. A scarred hand would come to run softly through their hair, or graze lightly over their arm as they dreamed away their anxieties alongside their watchful partner.

Clover:

Lone wasn't quite sure why, but it seemed to them that Clover was always so handsy whenever they became anxious. They had to admit, they didn't necessarily mind it, but she always seemed to get frisky at the most inopportune times. Meanwhile, Clover just can't seem to figure out why Lone is always casting hints her way in the middle of stressful situations. She gets it, she totally is picking up what Lone is putting down every time they draw their bottom lip between their teeth and gnaw away so suggestively, but do they really have to do that right now?! Once Clover finds out it's just Lone's way of coping with their anxiety, she feels sort of foolish… but that doesn't stop her from getting a little turned on whenever Lone does it, even though the timing is usually inconvenient for both of them. But after the trouble and stress has passed, Lone will certainly need to blow off some steam, right? If that’s the case, Clover is more than ready for it.

Cross:

Cross often noticed when Lone had trouble focusing, she tends not to miss a thing, especially when it comes to her Lone. When she sees her partner struggling to keep their attention trained on the person speaking to them, she usually will step in and ask if the person can speak to her companion again at a later time. Her direct and clear way of speaking is a relief for Lone when they are experiencing tension, as their listening becomes almost ineffective when they are being spoken to during times of high stress or anxiety. Paladin Cross understands this, and pays particular attention to speak slowly and with great care in these times. Due to her affinity for speaking this way normally, she and Lone tend to never have issues with communication; which evidently, tends to keep Lone from becoming anxious when they’re around their partner.

Fawkes:

Within his first couple weeks of traveling alongside Lone, the mutant noticed their need to constantly snack. When he decided to inquire about it, and they hesitantly explained their habit to stress eat, he wasn’t sure he understood it, but he knew that he had his own ways of dealing with his nerves, which came in the form of wringing his hands whenever he became anxious. So, if this is how Lone deals with it, he will accept it without question. It wasn’t until one fateful day, when Lone had realized they were completely out of snacking material and they were on the brink of a breakdown, that they realized Fawkes had taken their words to heart, as he reached out a large hand, filled to the brim with an assortment of their favorite snacks from one of his pockets. All this time they thought he only kept ammunition in there, turns out, their partner always had a well-stocked stash of their anxiety-repellent hidden away for cases just like these. They smiled coyly as they took a box of snack cakes, and a tin of crisps, settling down beside Fawkes as he lightly ran his hand up and down their back as they leaned into him, their breathing already beginning to return to normal with each passing moment.

Jericho:

The ex-raider always thought it was a little annoying, the way his companion would stutter at him every time something got dicey, or when they had to deal with some sort of verbal confrontation. It was painful to watch, and when he brought it up to them, and they stuttered back an embarrassed response, he realized it was well out of their control. It would still bug him, and he might make an off-handed comment about it every once in a while, but the more he saw that those comments weren’t funny to his partner, the more they glared at him as he laughed at his own rude jokes, he decided he should refrain from such talk. Lone hadn’t developed a thick skin like most wastelanders he was used to, and certainly not like most raiders; and he would have to constantly remind himself of that. After his realization, he wouldn’t say a word about their stutter again, and God help anyone who did. You mention his partner’s stutter, you’ll probably have one too by the time he’s done with you. If you still even have a tongue, that is.

FONV:

Arcade:

The doctor almost flinched at the feeling of Six’s fingers wrapping around his thumb the first time they did it, but he managed to keep his composure and simply utter a sarcastic comment in response to their sudden action. But when their stress passed, and they explained that it was a tic of theirs that they had trouble controlling, he immediately understood. Not only was he a doctor (so you know, he has pretty extensive knowledge regarding things of this nature) but he’s also had his own lovely tangles with anxiety in the past, and can’t really blame Six for their habit (despite the fact that he has absolutely no tics of his own to deal with). However, his understanding of it doesn’t mean he isn’t going to make some sort of humorous comment on the action whenever it occurs. At Six’s annoyed expression he says that he is simply trying to lighten the mood a bit, maybe distract them with his humorous musings. Six thinks he must not have a clue that he exercises his own coping mechanism (ahem, sarcasm) whenever their gesture makes him uncomfortable, so they end up trying to keep themself from grasping onto his thumb to the best of their abilities. But, to be honest, they’re relieved when Arcade begins reaching over his hand to them in times of stress, his eyes avoiding theirs, and his comments going unuttered, but his thumb extending outward to allow easy access nonetheless. This gesture usually results in a kiss on the cheek for the doctor when his partner has gotten through their bout of stress.

Boone:

He had noticed it when he first met the courier, the way they couldn't look him in the eye. Boone hadn't been sure if it was just him, considering his constant need to wear sunglasses and his somewhat stoic demeanor, or if it was the way they were with everyone, but either way, he didn’t mind in the slightest. When he found that it was a result of their anxiety, he simply nodded to them in understanding, and the pair went on their way. The sniper honestly wasn’t big on direct eye contact himself, another boon of wearing sunglasses was being able to keep your eyes trained wherever you liked, and so people tended not to notice his own habit of avoiding eye contact with them. He threw the idea out to Six one night, and soon enough the pair wore matching sunglasses nearly all the time. And though, as he said, he didn’t mind Six’s habit one bit, the knowledge that they only looked people in the eye when they felt completely comfortable and at ease with them made it all the more special when they did decide to look into his eyes when the pair was talking, or sharing a tender moment. In those little instances, Boone liked to study the details of his partner’s eyes, committing their warm and vibrant glow to memory, paying distinct attention to their unique shape, and the way their pupils dilated as they gazed back at him. He only wondered if they noticed his eyes doing the same in return as he took in the details of the one he loved.

Cass:

The caravaner always tends to offer some form of alcohol to Six whenever she sees their leg shaking in such a way. Cass is familiar with the side effects of withdrawal when she sees them, and she'll try to help her partner to the nearest drink as soon as she can. When Six finally asks her about why it is that she offers alcohol to them when they’re feeling stressed, mentioning that it maaaaaay not be the most healthy coping mechanism for anxiety, she is a bit confused. They were anxious!? Strange, she only tends to shake like that when she hasn't had a drink in a while. With the knowledge that it’s a nervous tic of theirs, Cass uses it to her advantage to better tell when her partner needs to take a load off, or blow off some steam. At the sight of their leg thrumming away, she’ll give their thigh a pat to get their attention, and then ask if there’s anything she can do to help them. As luck would have it, a stiff drink does tend to give Six the time to calm their nerves, so that trend isn’t completely abandoned once Cass has found out the truth about Six’s habit.

Raul:

"What's the matter, boss? Can’t find the right word? Lo siento, mi corazón, English isn't my best language, but I can try and help if you want." Raul is… confused at first. Whenever Six snaps their fingers, he can't seem to figure out if they're trying to find the right word to say, or if they happen to be looking for something, maybe they're trying to keep time, or make a beat? Maybe they’re counting something, trying to remember a phrase? Once they tell him it’s just a nervous tic they have, Raul looks a little embarrassed at the fact that he didn’t assume this earlier on. The ghoul tries not to pay much attention to his partner’s habit, since he knows it must make them a little self conscious when people point it out, but sometimes he can't help but snap along, trying to make a little song to go along with their own improvised rhythm. When Six does finally notice his contribution, Raul just likes to wink at them in response, flashing a playful little smile as they blush in embarrassment at the fact that he caught them doing their nervous tic.

Veronica:

When Veronica noticed that her partner had pierced ears, she was ecstatic. Ecstatic, and jealous. She always wanted to pierce her ears, to find or make her own pretty little earrings to decorate herself with, but alas, ear piercings were certainly not within the limits of Brotherhood dress and decorum. Given her interest in them, it’s no surprise that she noticed the way Six twisted the backs between their fingers, twiddling the bits of jewelry absent-mindedly whenever they became stressed or nervous. Often times, Veronica would reach a hand out to gently pry their fingers from their earring, pulling their hand to her lips so she could give it a small kiss before bringing it to settle somewhere else, to keep them from damaging the little bits of jewelry in their ears that she envied so much.

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imaginemcyt · 3 years

Text

village fever

sbi x gn!reader

content/trigger warnings: mentions of sickness including vomiting, medication, cursing. reader is called “big man” and “mate”, intended in a completely gender neutral way. i think that’s it!

you woke up feeling… off. something felt strange and you knew it, but you couldn’t quite place what it was so you carried on with your day. you went downstairs into the kitchen, where your father was making breakfast. your brothers were already up, tommy and wilbur sitting at the table bickering while techno sat on the couch with his face buried in some mythology book.

upon hearing you enter, phil looked up from the pan full of eggs. he smiled upon first seeing you, but his smile soon turned to a frown. “you alright, kiddo? you look awfully pale.” you smiled at him. “yeah, i’m fine. just tired i think.” but even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t true. phil’s voice sounded far away and you felt extremely out of it.

phil looked at you skeptically but didn’t push it. “alright, well breakfast should be done soon, would you mind setting the table?” you mumbled a ‘sure’ and grabbed the plates. you set them on the table one at a time, yet you paused with the last one. you hadn’t realized before how dizzy you felt. the next thing you knew, there was a crash and four pairs of eyes looked up at you. when had you dropped that plate? and why was the world spinning? you looked up at phil once more. “i don’t feel so good…” you heard yourself say. then everything went black as you fell to the floor.

you woke up again after the sun had set. had you slept all day? you weren’t sure, but you had a headache and you were cold, so terribly cold. you stood up and took in your surroundings for a moment before you felt a wave of nausea hit you and you were rushing to the bathroom. the contents of your stomach (which was pretty much nothing) had betrayed you and was now in the toilet. you groaned before feeling someone lift your hair up and tie it back. you looked up to see techno with his usual blank stare. he waited until you were sure you were done throwing up before helping you stand. you flushed the toilet and brushed your teeth.

“you should get back into bed. i’ll get you some water.” you mumbled a thank you before he nodded and headed downstairs to the kitchen. you then headed into your room and collapsed into your warm bed. techno returned a few minutes later with water, toast, and painkillers. “how did you know about my headache?” you asked, your voice weak and raspy. “i didn’t, you’re burning up. it’s to bring down the fever, but it’ll help with your headache, too.”

you took the medication and drank the water, feeling parched. you nibbled at the toast, not feeling hungry but also knowing you hadn’t eaten anything all day and then thrown up, and should probably eat. as you worked on that, techno sat at the end of your bed and pulled out his book. the cover read ‘heroic fantasy short stories’. he began to read silently to himself.

as you finished the last bites of your toast, you yawned and felt sleep trying to take you again. “tech?” he looked up. “will you read to me?” he regarded you for a moment before looking back down at the text. you thought he would ignore you and keep reading in his head, but after a few seconds you heard his deep monotone voice. “here we entered, but so dark was the night that some god must have brought us in, for there was nothing whatever to be seen. A thick mist hung all round our ships; the moon was hidden behind a mass of clouds so that no one could have seen the island if he had looked for it…”

the next time you woke, you smelled oatmeal and heard birds chirping outside. light streamed through your curtains, casting a bright and yellowish glow anywhere it hit. the world seemed to be in full swing, which contrasted heavily to your groggy and feverish self. you contemplated getting up, but didn’t feel it was worth the effort.

a few moments went by of you lying there coughing before you heard gentle knocking on your door. it opened to reveal a worried looking phil, holding a tray. “hey there, mate. techno told me you got sick last night, are you feeling better?” you pushed yourself to where you were sitting up. “a little bit. i still feel horrible, but i’m not nauseous, and maybe even a little hungry.” phil made his way to you and chuckled. “good thing i brought you some food, then.” he placed the tray on your lap, which contained a bowl of oatmeal and a warm mug of tea. you smiled at him. “thanks dad.” he caught his breath before smiling at you and stroking your hair gently. you could tell he still wasn’t used to being called ‘dad’. he made his way out of the room, telling you to eat and then take it easy.

you didn’t have much to do after that, seeing as you were bed-ridden, but it was just as well, seeing as you were too tired and your body too weak to do much anyway. after a couple hours of boredom went by, you heard a soft knock on your door again. you thought it might be phil checking on you, until wilbur poked his head in. “hey there, i haven’t seen you since yesterday morning. how are you feeling?” you looked at him and saw he was wearing his yellow jumper and had his guitar with him. “not great.” he frowned. “bored out of your mind, yeah?” you nodded and he gave a small laugh. “can i play you a song? i just finished writing it and wanted to show you.” you smiled and nodded enthusiastically, or as enthusiastically as you could while feeling so awful.

he smiled and made his way over to you. he took a seat on your bed and got his guitar ready to play. clearing his throat, he began to strum and sing. “the cute bomber jacket you’ve had since sixth form, adorned with patches of places you’ve been, is nothing on my khaki coat i got from a roadside when i was sixteen…” you smiled. your brother was extremely talented, and you loved hearing him play. “my boots are from airports, my backpack’s from friends, I’m not a man of substance and so I’ll pretend, to be a wanderer wandering, leaving ascetic belongings in hostels and restaurant bins…” you closed your eyes, taking in the melody and the beautiful strumming. when he was finished, he looked up at you. you gave him a genuine smile. “it’s beautiful, wilbur. what’s is called?” “i’m not sure yet, i’m thinking of calling it ‘since i saw vienna’,” he smiled back. “well i love it.”

with a few words of thanks, he made his way to the door. “you should get some rest. phil thinks you’ve caught village fever from your visit to that village the other day, so you’ll be down for a while.” you groaned. “don’t worry, y/n. tommy has to do all your chores while you’re sick.” you both laughed at tommy’s expense, leading to another coughing fit. wilbur frowned at you and ducked out of the room, leaving you with nothing but your thoughts once more.

around dinner time, tommy brought you food. on the plate was meatloaf, green beans, and mashed potatoes. he also brought a glass of water with him. “how you feelin’, big man? dadza didn’t want me to bring you food because he said i’m ‘tOo LoUd”! can you believe this fuckin’ guy?” you chuckled and coughed a bit. “thanks for the food, tommy. i’m doing a bit better now, so hopefully i’ll be back to my usual self in no time,” you said. he gave you a smile. “that’s what i like to hear.”

you felt miserable, but you knew that with time, you’d be just fine. besides, you had a great family to take care of you, and you could get used to seeing tommy do your chores.

#dream smp #wilbur dream smp #wilbur soot #tommy dream smp #tommyinnit #technoblade dream smp #technoblade #philza dream smp #philza minecraft #sbi fanfic #sbi x reader #sbi #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois family

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

Text

Here to Misbehave (Finale | S.R.)

Summary: It’s Halloween, and there are a lot of things on Spencer’s mind.

A/N: Here it is, everyone: the end of the story. Thank you so much to everyone who’s read this far. I greatly appreciate all of you, and I hope you enjoy it! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Penetrative sex, light D/s, mostly fluff! Word Count: 7.5k

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Autumn has widely been considered the season of change. It is an understandable characterization; from the shifting hues of the leaves to the wildly fluctuating temperatures, few things stayed consistent in the fall. Perhaps that’s why someone who loathes change, someone like me, finds the season so thrilling.

It’s like the Earth and the Sun made a pact to make changes more predictable in their own unique, chaotic way. The breeze becomes biting and the days become shorter, but for these downfalls, we are granted a beauty and calmness that can’t be rivaled by any other season.

But she wasn’t a season, and when it came to my attention and appreciation, there were few choices that were easier to make.

“Spencer. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

(Y/n)’s face was half covered by the cup she held tightly with both hands, but I could picture the hidden expression perfectly, regardless.

“What? We don’t have to agree on everything.”

The truce was received poorly, her response a heavy scoff and a shake of her head. I tried to follow along with her suddenly heated words but couldn’t contain the stars in my eyes that often accompanied my daydreams. If she did notice, she stubbornly ignored the adoration to continue, “I understand you’re a genius or whatever, but I think your opinions on cider and cocoa are... wrong. They are wrong.”

It was my turn to feign displeasure (I hoped hers wasn’t real, anyway), clutching tighter to my own drink that I found myself defending on a park bench with dozens of strangers as an audience.

“An opinion can’t be wrong!” I chirped, only hating the way my voice jumped a little bit. After all, it was hard to hate it when it made her giggle. But despite how much sweeter the liquid seemed when I drank it in the presence of her smile, I also knew that she wouldn’t appreciate my immediate agreement. So, I pushed back just a little, “It can be misguided or ignorant but not outright wrong.”

“Unless it’s yours, on this topic,” she shot back without hesitation.

I tried to flash her a pout, hoping that maybe it would work for me like it did for her. It did not. Her eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped open with another laugh, and I decided that I preferred that outcome, anyway. The longer my bottom lip stuck out, the wider her smile got. I waited to stop until her eyes closed and turned away, just long enough for me to let the full force of my affection show before she noticed.

She saw it, anyway, in the form of a similar smile spread over my face when I softly admitted, “Fine. You’re right.”

“Oh, I know.”

Her tongue peeked between her lips, and I found myself thinking less of cider and cocoa and more about how unbelievably lucky I was to find someone that I never felt the need to prove anything to. A person that didn’t care if I held all the answers.

I might’ve continued down that sappy train of thought, but it was hard to do while she had hoisted herself halfway over the table to try and grab hold of my cup right as I went to drink from it. Of course, she had failed to take into account just how big the table was, and just how close I was willing to come to falling before I let her drink from my cup right after she’d criticized my preference of fall flavors.

For a second, I really thought she might climb onto the table to win, but the judgmental looks from the parents in the park must have beaten her desire to win. As forlorn as humanly possible, she fell back into her seat with a loud “Hmph!” which really only managed to elicit an equally immature giggle from me.

“Shut up,” she laughed before shoving my paper plate further into my chest, “And eat your stupid pie.”

All I could think as she grabbed my fork and stabbed the middle of the piece to try to lift the entire thing at once, was that I was right about one thing: Autumn, in all its vitality and beauty, could still never compare to her.

That thought persisted through the pumpkin patch, growing in intensity as she skipped through the vine-laden path like a regular fall fairy. It was much easier to get lost in her there, crouched and inspecting foliage. Her arguments regarding gourds were much less spirited, with her watching me wide-eyed and curious as I explained the stages of pumpkin growth and all the different uses for the fruit.

I still let her make the final choices, opting to analyze her selections and tease her for them later, instead. That was the plan, anyway, to continue the competitiveness lest she gets bored with me before the day was over. When she walked past me holding open the passenger side door, I thought it might’ve already happened.

But then she just placed the pumpkin into my hands so she could open the back door. Before I could even move, she carefully removed it from my arms again and placed it in the seat.

“What are you doing?” I said through a very amused chuckle.

She was decidedly not entertained by my confusion, stopping to turn to me with a bored, frustrated expression. “I’m buckling him in,” she explained slowly, like I might need the help. Then, to add insult to silly injury, she added, “Duh.”

I was too distracted by the details to tackle the absurdity of it all.

“Him? It’s a boy pumpkin?”

“Obviously. Look at him,” she snorted, finally clicking the seatbelt in before tenderly petting the top of the lucky little gourd. Once she was convinced it would be as safe as she could make it, she allowed me to begin to escort her into her proper seat.

“You know it’s safer on the floor, right?” I asked before she’d slipped past me. I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from the car so I could enjoy the warmth of her before it was replaced with the dry air of the engine.

“How dare you,” she balked with an open mouth that was just begging to be kissed. By the time I got close enough to try, though, her hand fervently shoved my cheek away. I tried to laugh, but she used the same hand to cover the noise, trying and failing to convince me she was being serious.

“Why don’t you just hold him?” I mumbled against her palm.

That was enough for her to abandon my embrace altogether. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she pried my arms off of her and finally made her way to my passenger seat. I didn’t fight her too hard, even taking the time to shut her door like my mother always insisted.

The mercy was not returned, with her eyes narrowed into a playful disbelieving glare that I hadn’t seen in some time. My mind was brought back to the first time she ever let me know she was jealous, bickering over blondes and preferences while she sat in the very same place. And, just as before, she was still wearing the same raggedy old sweatshirt of mine.

“If this is any indication of how you’ll be with a human baby, I have dramatically overestimated your competence,” she droned, obviously unaffected by the stars that appeared in my eyes every time I looked at her.

“The one and only time you’ll ever be able to say those words. I hope you enjoyed it,” I joked. A funny enough joke that she couldn’t help but smile through her facade.

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, “I did.”

The day could have ended there, and it would have been enough. Honestly, I couldn’t think of a single thing that wouldn’t be better with her there. In a way, I think we were trying to prolong the high of ‘hooky,’ finding even the faintest interest in an activity as enough of an excuse for a detour.

… Which was probably how we found ourselves in our third park of the day. After all, I loved any autumnal vision, so how could I decline an opportunity to let them serve as a backdrop for watching her? And that was an accurate description of how I spent the day. It might sound boring, and if it were anyone else, it probably would have been. But no matter how often I saw her, I found myself learning new things about her every single time. Each freckle and scar became a part of the high-definition collection of memories that I would never let myself forget. The most beautiful images that kept me sane in the face of evil and filth.

“Do you see that?”

For a moment, I thought she might have read my mind. But then I realized that her eyes were still fixed forward, stuck on the horizon ahead of us.

“See what?”

“That,” she pointed, “Right there.”

My eyes followed the line, finding nothing but an area of carefully manicured, yellow grass and trees already set to rest for the season. It must have been clear to her that I was lost, because her pointing became more animated and her voice rose as she shouted, “Right there!”

“The giant pile of leaves?”

“Uh-huh.”

Then, in all of my obliviousness, I just sort of stared. Even when her hand grew tighter around mine and her feet started to move faster, I didn’t put two and two together until it was too late.

“What about— No! (Y/n)!” I shouted, cutting off my own train of thought and only barely letting go of her in time to watch her jump straight into the collection of fallen foliage that some poor landscaper had obviously worked hard to gather.

I have to believe that even if that unlucky, underappreciated individual saw what she’d done to their hours of work, that they would forgive her. It was hard to feel anything but joy at the sounds that came from the pile. Yet I approached her cautiously, with both hands in my pockets to avoid the urge to throw myself into danger with her.

“You’re a terror,” I said, settling for a crouched position in front of her. Still able to see her but far enough from her grasp that she had to crawl through a wall of leaves to come nose to nose with me. “This is literally the scariest thing you’ve done all season.”

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” she purred.

As enticing as the offer was, my mind was too preoccupied with statistics of spider and snake bites, not to mention the possibility of ticks still scouring the landscape for any last second hosts. The answer was easy.

“Absolutely not.”

With another exhale of pure displeasure, she threw her body back into the leaves, burying herself into a mess of yellows and reds that somehow only made her look even more beautiful. The chaotic scene matched her energy well, and the harm she was doing was minimal considering I was absolutely going to search every inch of skin for any marks later.

The only thing that was more appealing to me than watching her make an absolute fool out of herself in a pile of leaves was the intense urge to tease her about it. So, taking a regrettable seat on the grass, I sighed, “I think I’m going to have to arrest you for trespassing.”

There was a loud gasp from the center of the pile, followed by a scuffle of flailing limbs among the foliage.

“You don’t own this leaf pile! I do! I am queen of the leaf pile!” she screeched.

“Alright Princess,” I subtly corrected, “whatever you say.”

As promised, I didn’t put up a fight. Even when she finally got a hold of my hands and dragged me into the madness with her. I followed her no matter what nonsense she demanded, just as she had with me so many times. Granted, my desires weren’t nearly as dangerous or strange. They were pretty much just a collection of foreign films and reading that always lulled her to sleep.

But that day there was no sign of her energy waning. The early sun faded and we kept going. I’m not sure how, but she managed to enjoy herself in the D.C. landscape of bars and blaring car horns despite not being able to indulge in anything herself. Although she did half-heartedly attempt to trick me into buying her drinks in several different establishments, I think she was honestly proud that I avoided the drinks altogether. It was a nice reminder that sobriety could be something enjoyed between the two of us, regardless of the environment. However, we didn’t let that stop us from jumping into a crowd of very drunk women who had insisted we join their haunted tour of the city.

“Are you scared?” she whispered into my ear. The feeling of her warm breath against my skin caused a shiver to run down my spine, ruining any credibility I had in my response.

“No. Why would I be scared? It’s just history.”

“Are you sure?” she asked again.

“Yes!” I insisted with the worst possible timing. Because just as soon as the word had left my lips, I felt the distinct sensation of fingers running down my neck and arm opposite to her. I was so convinced that’s what it was that I even spun around with a yelp, crashing into at least three different people just to find a very startled woman with the worst hung scarf I’d ever seen.

(Y/n) had already put two and two together and was lost in an absolute fit of laughter. There were already tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she doubled over, barely able to stand through it all. Because there I was, her 31-year-old FBI agent boyfriend, screaming over a scarf.

“Laugh it up,” I droned. And she did. She kept laughing through any attempts at a response, and after the initial embarrassment wore off, I couldn’t help but join her.

“I hope you know you chose me. You chose this man!” I shouted, gesturing to the people around us who had already forgotten about our shenanigans, “And everyone knows it!”

“I’m sorry I can’t—” she wheezed, pausing to take a necessary breath that was all lost with another bunch of giggles “—You’re a fucking FBI Agent!”

“Well I can’t shoot a ghost, can I?” I mumbled through the hit to my ego. But any suffering was quickly dealt with as she threw dramatic arms around my waist, pulling me close and protecting me from any other errant scarves that might show up.

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” I returned with a quick kiss on her forehead. And even if I implied otherwise, I think she knew that I was having just as good of a time as she was. In fact, it was one of the most relaxing days of my life, which was saying something, considering how much walking was involved.

But no matter how tired we both were, I still had one last place to take her. It took her a while to figure out why the route felt so familiar, but I wasn’t ready to ruin the surprise. I wanted to watch the realization dawn on her. She didn’t disappoint.

“The Mayflower?” she asked with a bit of a bashful laugh before looking up at me through narrowed eyes, “Feeling nostalgic, Dr. Reid?”

“Yeah, a little bit. Thought it was more romantic than the club,” I offered, trying to shrug off the nervous butterflies that burst through my stomach. “Not by much, mind you.”

Although I got the feeling that she didn’t know, or perhaps just didn’t remember, that wonderful night from almost a year ago was one of the most important days of my life. I knew it then, too. From the second I set my eyes on her from my pitiful place against the bar, I knew that she would ruin me.

“Nothing screams high end romance like an alley and a little light law breaking,” she sighed. I almost missed it, too preoccupied with the way her arm tugged me tighter so she could rest her head against my shoulder.

“I can take you home if you’d rather.”

“Hmmm. Depends,” she hummed. Then, turning her head up to me with that playful look that always turned me to putty in her hands, she purred, “How much longer do you think you can wait before you just have to have me?”

I sucked in a sharp, sarcastic breath, eyeing her just long enough for her to start to fume, I let out all the air with a defeated sigh, “I guess we’re staying.”

That serene sort of teasing continued past the reception desk and all the way up the elevator. If there were other people there, we didn’t bother noticing. We were too busy watching one another to even look away long enough to find our room. Doubling back through the dizzying hallways until we found the elusive number, we finally settled into the only vaguely familiar layout of beige and tan.

She was much quicker at it than I was. Before I’d even finished washing my hands and checking exposed skin for bugs that I was convinced had hitched a ride from the leaf pile, she was already stretched out on the bed in nothing but a tiny piece of lacy cotton and her favorite sweatshirt. The sight made me stop, lost for breath and logic of how I was lucky enough to be there with her again.

“See something you like, Dr. Reid?” she teased through giggles, no doubt recalling the same memory as me.

My answer didn’t need to be said, but I said it, anyway. She deserved to hear it.

“Yes.”

With arms outstretched, she sleepily begged, “Come here.”

But I couldn’t.

“Not yet… I just… I want to look at you like this a little bit longer.”

How could I move on from this moment, when it was the best I’d ever felt? So overwhelmingly safe and at home despite being in a strange, sterile room. I had no desire to move any inch of me if it meant that this image would persist for the rest of my days.

“You getting all romantic on me?”

“Always,” I chuckled. Her usual disgust for my sappy behavior didn’t show itself, overpowered by the gentle curve of her lips and hands that were becoming more and more insistent to be held. Eventually, I had to move, knowing that it was the only way to hold her.

My body reacted the way it always did when it found her. All of the tension dropped from tired shoulders, desperate to touch her more. To feel the imprint of her body pressed against mine, a mess of heat and need and love.

She was the one to kiss me first, and for a moment I let her do it without reciprocation. I wanted to feel how her touch became softer and shier as she realized what I was doing. That I was spending all of my energy memorizing the way her lips parted as she tried to hold back a giggle against my almost-still lips.

“What’s happening in that big genius brain of yours?” she murmured with eyes half open but still containing universes.

“I’m just thinking of all the things you’ve done to make me fall in love with you.”

I thanked all of the gods in every pantheon that made her too tired to tease. Instead, she just laughed, playing her part in bringing us back to that night we met.

“Like quote Picard?”

“We still haven’t watched Star Trek together,” I whined.

The sound must have stirred something new in her, because she rolled us over to take her seat on my lap. She hung over me, looking down at me, hopeless and breathless at the feel of her thighs under my hands. My heart started to race, but I didn’t know why.

It wasn’t until she spoke the words that were already running through my mind, “We’ve got time. Picard can wait.”

Everything about it was effortless. Our bodies had fallen together and mouths found each other exactly like every romance novel has ever tried to tackle the metaphor of gravity.

But if we were an orbit, it was not a binary like the traditional notion of two equal souls. Despite the nickname I’d chosen for her, nothing about her soul was small. And even though she burned bright, she wasn’t anything like the fiery combustion of a star.

She was a home. A thing so full of vitality and life that I would love to watch for whatever time I had left. I was just a moon, loyally following her and trying my best to shield her from whatever might try to harm her. To protect her when she needed rest and to lead the tides to kiss her when she wished. I would be her shadow, shining a light onto her even in the darkest time. All that I asked for in return was a spot beside her.

‘One day,’ she had said before, ‘if you will have me.’

But it was never a question. Not for me. And if she really needed me to answer it for her, I was happy to give her that. I hadn’t been waiting for even a year, but it felt like a lifetime.

“Yeah, he can,” I repeated, quiet and with such a heavy waver that I’m surprised she could understand the shifting inflections. Even if she didn’t, she knew that something had changed in those few seconds of silence.

“What’s up, Spencer?”

I didn’t know how to answer. How to explain what I was feeling. But I grabbed hold of one hand, clinging desperately to her and guiding her to the heart that felt dangerously light. The rapid pace of its beating still not enough to alert her of the true cacophony of my thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

The answer was yes. Because no matter how loud and chaotic the sounds inside my head were, they all lead me to the same conclusion.

“Picard can wait, and we have a lot of time,” I tried to explain through a dry throat that was only growing tighter with the unwieldy weight of the feeling.

“Yes…” she mumbled back, just as trepidatious and nervous as I was.

Just like I was. Because we were. We were connected by some force, whatever you want to call it. Whether it was a chemical or psychological or heavenly connection, I didn’t care. I wanted her to know how I felt. To know that there was nothing that would ever tear me away from her.

“But I don’t… I don’t think I want to wait.”

After a couple more seconds of silence, she answered with a knowing stare, “… What?”

From my position underneath her, I was able to reach over just enough to grab my jacket. Of course, it helped that she moved with me, clearly curious and terrified of the possibilities. But a good kind of terror… I hoped.

My confidence grew as her legs gripped tighter around my hips and her hands shot up to cover her chest with balled fists pressed against one another. I heard the friction of her skin as her body started to shake in a different way, with an adrenaline that I hadn’t seen from her in even the most dangerous situations.

But when I pulled a small velvet box from the internal pocket, everything stopped. She became completely still. Her eyes were wide and frozen on the object in my hands, only to look away when she heard my voice.

“(Y/n).”

“Where did you get that?” she asked like she hadn’t just seen me pull it from my jacket. The same jacket that I wore every time that I was with her. The wool fabric that she’d swaddled herself in on a number of occasions, none the wiser of how much heavier it was for me when I wore it.

“I know this is really random, a-and to be fair, I wasn’t expecting it, either,” I said through the most awkward laughs I’d ever produced (which was saying something), “I mean, I knew I wanted to marry you, I’ve known that for quite some time, hence the ring.”

I paused, but got nothing in response. Nothing except her lips quivering from their parted position, and her nose twitching as she tried to settle on just one expression. But it didn’t matter how she contorted her face; they were all exactly as they should be. Because they were all her.

“But today, with you… I-I’ve never been that happy in my life. Jumping in leaves and fighting over fall flavors and I—“

Her eyes stopped bouncing, settling with my gaze and robbing my lungs of all air. She made up her mind, deciding to leave everything exactly as it was. The honest truth of the overwhelming storm of every emotion that had been experienced in the little time we had shared together.

The knowing that everything had happened exactly as it should have to bring us here.

“I love you so much,” I whispered, careful to make every word as genuine as they were, “And I know that we have all the time in the world left with one another… but I don’t want to wait any longer for you to be my wife.”

“Ask me,” she answered immediately and abruptly.  

“Okay,” I laughed, endlessly entertained by how she could sound so aggressive even when we were both at our most vulnerable, caught in the nexus of our love.

“Um… Will you… marry me?”

There was no hesitation. No worry, no fear, and no doubt.

“Yes, you stupid old man!” she outright screamed, throwing arms around me even when it meant we both slammed against pillows and the headboard. She didn’t stop squealing even when she kissed me, struggling to find more of me to hold onto.

After she decided that tugging on my hair was the best way to express her affection, I managed to break away just long enough to shout, “Wait! I have to put the ring on you!”

“Then put it on!” she yelled, thrusting her hand in front of my face and practically slapping me in the process. But none of the pain mattered. Nothing was even recognizable outside of the feeling of her sweaty, shaking palm resting against my fingers.

I noticed for the first time that I was also trembling. I took the time to focus, slipping the ring over her finger. But once it started to safely slide into place, my eyes returned to watch what I knew to be happy tears fall over her cheeks. I wiped them away, but they were replaced with the wetness from my face when she brought us together again with a long, gentle kiss.

A calmness came over the room like the feeling following a storm. A clean slate with soil enriched for growth. A hope for a future forever changed.

“What do we do now?” she asked, biting her bottom lip and holding tight to my hands.

The answer seemed clear enough.

“Whatever we want.”

—————————————————

Is this really happening?

I stared at the diamond shining back at me with a clarity that had to be a metaphor for my heart. In the vague reflection of yellow light and us, I felt a warmth that doesn’t normally accompany metal. My finger’s new companion felt so comfortable in its new resting place. A constant reminder of the man I called home.

Then I turned back to him, unsure how I was supposed to move on from this moment. I never wanted to leave, but I also needed to move. I compromised and settled with my face against his chest, listening to the heartbeat he’d just dedicated to me. In that peaceful quiet, I heard him speak so softly I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear it.

But I did.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said with fingers dancing through the ends of my hair, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

And for once, the thought didn’t feel like a burden. In fact, it felt like freedom. I was finally free to be who I was without worry that I would be alone. Without worrying that I would be too much or too little to please him.

I was enough.

Enough.

“I love you,” I said, tasting salt from tears I hadn’t even noticed were falling.

Curiously, and in a rare role switch, Spencer was the one who took a blatantly affectionate display and turned it into something else. Pulling me away from his chest, he dragged me up until he could drag his lips over my jaw.

“Don’t cry, little girl,” he cooed with what I could only imagine was a wicked grin, “I haven’t given you a reason to yet.”

Something about that gruff rumble in his throat caused my skin to ripple with goosebumps. Every inch of me burned with flames that could only be put out by his touch. I chased after his lips with my own, but he was insistent on trailing down my throat. He knew I would be powerless to him. I wouldn’t be able to argue when my hands were knotted in his hair and my hips were already rocking helplessly against his erection.

“I want you to fuck me,” I seethed. My blood was boiling from the heat I felt within, and before he could even answer I was already working at the buttons on his shirt.

“Oh? You don’t want me to make love to you?” Spencer laughed. As if that had ever been our style.

“No, I want you to take what’s yours.”

He responded to the demand by pushing me from my seat, forcing me onto my back on the other end of the bed. I wasn’t going to complain, either. The new position allowed me access to his belt, which I unbuckled before he even had time to laugh.

“Are you really challenging me right now, little girl?”

But despite the taunt, he did nothing to stop me. His hands were also busy removing my clothes. And just like before, our nakedness was reciprocated. With each lost layer, I should have felt lighter, but I didn’t. I felt so powerful, so aware of how our bare bodies twined together.

“Here, of all places? Do you remember what I did to you that night?”

How could I ever forget?

“I’m not the same girl you had in your bed then,” I purred. We both knew it was true, although not in the way I was implying.

Because Spencer had changed me. Irrevocably. He taught me so much — not just about physics, literature, or criminology, either. He taught me about kindness, softness, and vulnerability. He taught me how to trust that someone could hold me without the intention of letting me go. More than anything, he taught me that I didn’t have to learn these things alone. Even the smartest man I’d ever met needed help with them sometimes.

Then again, something told me that Spencer wasn’t in a very humble mood. Perhaps it was the fact he’d pinned me down again, with his hands clumsily gripping hard enough to leave crescent moons in my forearms.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he growled with a small, chaste kiss, “You’re still just a fucking brat.”

I wasn’t feeling bratty then, though. Especially not as I felt the head of his cock pressed against me, just hard enough to feel the resistance of my body. He waited there, no doubt taking pleasure in the way my whole body squirmed underneath him. My hips bucked, but he managed to keep a cruelly steady distance.

“You’re so precious when you’re needy,” he mumbled. And although I stubbornly avoided looking him in the eyes out of protest, he forced my face towards him again, anyway. “Go on. Say please.”

“Fuck off,” I whined through a prominent pout that did me no favors.

“Say it.”

“Please!”

I managed to make eye contact, but it was fleeting. As soon as he thrust forward into me, my back arched and I lost myself in the pillows. My hands found him, though, leaving angry red welts over heated skin. If Spencer was at all affected by the pain, he made no showing of it. His pace continued, steadily forcing our bodies together until I trembled in his hands.

He would hold me there, at my limit but not pleading for him to do anything different. With tender hands, he would fuck me until I swore bruises would follow. But I never felt unsafe; I felt cared for and cherished in a way I’d never known. I trusted him to know my limits better than myself.

I trusted him with all of me because I had already seen that when given the chance, he would do whatever he could to protect me.

The love I felt must have shone through my eyes because his hips got slower, drawing out each movement. My hips rose in tandem with his, allowing me to feel every inch of him inside of me.

“This body belongs to me now and forever,” he whispered.

It always has.

“You belong to me.”

And I felt it. The undeniable string of fate that tied us to each other. I could feel his every emotion as his fingers brushed over my throat. I melted under his touch, completely consumed by the love he felt for me. The kind of love that people spent their whole lives searching for only to come up empty. That powerful thing that drove gods to war and men to madness.

The only feeling that could tear down every wall that had been carefully crafted to protect myself. Because I didn’t need them anymore. Spencer’s arms would take their place, holding me through the storms that might follow the same way he had carried me through the ones that led us here.

“Yes,” I breathed, “I’m yours.”

For forever and whatever comes after.

The words were truer than they’d ever been before, and Spencer took it as permission to let go of any remaining hesitation. The slow, gentle thrusts became faster and our moans echoed in the small room without a second thought to the poor patrons in the rooms surrounding us. Because if they felt what we did, they would understand. Spencer still tried to hush the sounds, crashing his lips over mine in a sloppy, frenzied kiss.

I was suddenly reminded of every romantic story I’d ever heard. They all spoke of feeling so close to someone that they felt like an extension of yourself. I wasn’t sure if it was completely true, but there was no denying how at home our bodies were. The way our tongues wrapped around one another and how our noses bumped so gently in the chaos was unmatched by any meeting driven by lust or need.

His hips met mine over and over again, no matter how hard I tried to keep him closer. Even when my hips chased his to be held longer, Spencer was persistent in the ruthless pace. Because like me, he was lost in the euphoria. I knew it from the sound of his whimpers and the way he bit my lip just a little bit harder.

“Tell me what you want, little girl,” he begged. Not ordered. Begged.

“You,” I answered without any doubt, “I just want you.”

His response came even faster, even more desperate and scratchy as it came through his lips into mine.

“You have me. For the rest of my life and whatever comes after, I will take care of you.”

There was nothing left to say. I could feel the truth and force behind the words as he fucked me harder, eliciting one more quiet cry from me in the sound of his name.

“Spencer...”

When he returned the call, though, it wasn’t with any name I’d heard from him before.

“So you better get used to this feeling,” he said through a smile that I felt on my lips before he drew back. He looked me in the eye as he buried himself in me, tensing to hold himself back just a few seconds longer. To see the look on my face and let that be the feeling of us giving in to each other for the first time in our new story.

“Because I’m never going to grow tired of this, Mrs. Reid.”

Mrs. Reid.

That was going to be my name.

Mrs. Reid.

That was the only thought running through my mind as I felt the coil in my gut snap and all of my muscles tense around him. There were no whorish sounds left in my lungs, only little whimpers and whines as I tried to claw him closer. Spencer gave up his visual in exchange for kissing me while he finished. My walls held him so tightly that I felt each pulse and every place where his release filled me. But nothing was more compelling than feeling the way his lip quivered between mine as his body fell onto mine with no grace required.

Spencer could act hard all he wanted, but I felt the way he craved softness. Safety. Love. All things I was happy to give… for a price.

“Say it again.”

“Say what again?” he replied sleepily but animated enough to have a healthy dose of snark. Snark that earned him a rough nudge of my elbow into his ribs.

“You know!”

But naturally, the genius had to play dumb. With a happy little hum, he snuggled closer to me, burying his face into my neck so he could mumble against the skin, “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Please,” I sighed, “for me?”

He seemed to contemplate the plea for a little while longer, with wiggling toes I felt against my shins and a happy sigh that breezed over my neck. I tried to take in those small things while I waited, knowing that while I had a lifetime to learn them, this moment would never come again.

“Fine,” he finally settled, propping himself up to give another soft kiss followed by the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Only for you, Mrs. Reid.”

—— The Next Morning ——

Waking up next to Spencer with a ring on my finger was literally waking up to find my dream come to life. And sure, his light snoring and constant wriggling under the sheets he continued to pull off of me weren’t perfect or picturesque, but they were real. The same way that he chirped when he felt my legs wrap around him in his sleep and only woke when he heard me giggling.

His eyes fluttered open, taken aback by something that he saw. Although I would blame it on the sunlight filtering through the curtains, I was sure that he would give me all the credit.

“Good morning,” he slurred.

“Hi,” I answered with a smile and an attempt to pull him closer. But my hand was stopped by his, squeezing my palm between his fingers before dragging my knuckles to his lips. From there, he laid a gentle kiss over the diamond he’d placed there the night before. Although it was strange to be outshone by a rock, I let it go for now.

“I know you shouldn’t sleep with it on, but it’s so nice to see it’s still there,” he said with a heavy breath before lowering our still joined hands to rest against his heart. I could feel the way it beat a little bit quicker as I came closer, and I wondered if this was really what it would be like forever.

“I couldn’t resist wearing it.”

“You know you can still change your mind, right? We haven’t told anyone.”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” I replied unlike every time before. There was no teasing, no joke or anger or sadness. Just a pure, unadulterated joy.

… Of course, the question did bring up an entirely new anxiety. It did feel a bit silly, but it needs to be expressed.

“Have you?”

“God, no,” he laughed. Like he’d only asked the question to see the way I might panic. But as soon as I heard his assurance, I knew it was the truth.

My mind started to drift back to that first morning we spent together. It felt like a lifetime ago, but everything still felt so very much the same. I wondered if there were things I would change if given the chance. It wasn’t until after I ran through the laundry list of things that we would have been better off without that I realized I’d asked the wrong question.

It wasn’t a matter of what I would have changed, but what I would have kept the same. And the answer was simple. No matter what I would face in my life, I just wanted it to be with him. Everything would be okay as long as I had him.

However, when I tried to kiss him, Spencer still seemed hung up on the things he would have changed. Our lips didn’t connect for even ten seconds before he broke apart, happily laughing through the words, “This is so much better when I’m not hungover.”

“Old man.”

He didn’t argue back, wiggling under the sheets until our chests were pressed together. I took it as a very poor attempt at a power play, because instead of craning my neck to look up at him from my spot, I simply climbed his lanky figure until our noses were pressed together.

“Your old man now,” he corrected, followed by my own clarification of, “You were always mine, Dr. Reid.”

“But now you get to show everyone.” He grinned, letting go of my hand to roam over the curves of my body. His daily attempts to memorize each version of me he held. After a few more moments of silent reverence, I asked the question we’d have to face eventually, lest we face even more awkward, embarrassing moments with the team.

“Who’s gonna tell everyone?”

He barely even considered the options before he shrugged.

“Let’s just… wing it.”

I paused, certain that I’d heard it wrong. “You, Spencer Reid, would like to ‘wing it?’” I repeated, barely able to get the words out without laughing from the absurdity of it all.

But he was quick to assure me, “Yeah, I do.”

“Alright. Whatever you say,” I sighed. I figured that it wouldn’t be worth it to plan right now, anyway. It wasn’t exactly our style. If anything, we would find the perfect time completely by accident.

“You know what we should do first though?” I excitedly announced to the best audience a girl could ever ask for.

“What?”

“Coffee,” I drawled. To which he quickly answered, “I love you an ungodly amount.”

Taking full advantage of that admission, I shoved the poor soul who’d shackled himself to me forever away as I ordered, “Go turn it on. I am craving shitty hotel coffee in bed with my fiancé.”

“Fine,” he resigned with a smile while rolling out of the bed, “Spoiled brat.”

“Your spoiled brat!” I shouted back from safe under the covers that I could finally get back in his absence. They weren’t as good as him, but they would be enough for now. I buried my face into his pillow, snickering as I heard a very tired Spencer call from the bathroom, “Forever mine!”

Just as the sounds of running water filled the room, I lifted my head at the distant sound of familiar chiming beside me.

“Is that my phone?”

I didn’t answer, paralyzed in my place as I felt the most intense sensation of deja vu I’d ever experienced. Right there on the nightstand, I saw the name Hotchner.

Spencer was quicker this time to leave the bathroom, but just as he turned the corner, a thought must have stopped him. Because he paused, staring at me with hotel sheets gathered around me and his phone against my ear.

He didn’t try to fight me for the device. In fact, he didn’t move at all, watching from a few feet away with a smile I’d never seen before. The kind that I felt so deep inside of me that I realized this was what they meant to share a soul with someone.

“Hello,” I spoke softly and filled with love, “this is Mrs. Reid.”

The End.

—————————————————

Epilogue

#spencer reid #spencer reid series #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid request #reid request #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid self insert

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krreader · 3 years

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diamond maknae | too suspicious.

pairing: jeon jeongguk x maknae!reader ; bts x reader (platonic) fandom: bts warnings: eighth member of bts!reader ; mentions of sex genre: fluff ; smut word count: 1.1k+ other: for more diamond maknae content, please check out my dm masterlist

a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING THIS, I had a blast writing it

Oh, how much you loved concerts in countries other than South Korea.

Korea was and would always be your home and doing concerts for your fans there would always feel special, but in other parts of the world, you could just be more.. free in what you were doing on stage. Nobody batted a single eyelash if you exposed a bit too much boobs, in fact, they all screamed even louder if you did so.

One thing that you incorporated into this world tour was that you had special performances in every single country. Just you.

For every country, you were performing a different song, had a different choreography... just to spice things up for people. You knew that tour details would always get leaked, so this part would be the surprise that fans were able to look forward to each and every time.

And well, today had more than one surprise in store for them.

Because while you were usually performing on your own – this was supposed to be your solo performance, after all – one of your members joined you this time.

“I like it,” Jeongguk had said as he had watched you practice for this performance back home in Korea, walking around you in a circle, his hands buried in his sweatpants. The next part, he whispered into your ear as he stood behind you, though, “But it could use a bit more spice, you know?”

You let out a snort, still breathing heavily and watched him through the practice mirror, “And what exactly did you have in mind here.”

It was as if he had been waiting for an opportunity like this. Jeongguk didn't waste a single second , grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards his body, his other hand sneaking around your waist and his fingers gracing your butt, “Me.”

“That's not a good idea,” you giggled, trying to escape his hold, but he just pulled you closer towards him, “How would we even explain that. Me performing like this with you as my partner... that's too much.”

“You said you wanted them to be surprised. They will be.”

“This isn't surprise anymore, Jeongguk. Doing this will make the rumors blow up.”

One of his hands came up to your chin and he made you look up at him, a confident grin on his face, “Fine by me. Let the entire arena know that I'm the one you're riding.”

“Jeongguk,” you pushed him back, but laughed wholeheartedly.

“Come on, let's just try this. I bet it would look amazing.”

That's how this entire thing had started and it didn't take very long for you to realize that he was right. What had been missing from your performance had been a partner. That was the last piece of the puzzle. The moment he joined in, it was perfect.

But it was also... very sexy.

So... you didn't tell anyone about it. Not even your members knew.

You wished you could have seen their faces when Jeongguk suddenly ran on stage, just in time for the last part of your performance.

The fans screams roared through the arena when they spotted him and they became even louder when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him. Just like in the studio, he turned you around and wrapped one arm around your middle. You continued singing, him smirking at you while his eyes were clearly saying: “I want you so badly right now.”

And while you had been completely aware of your surroundings before, the moment he was here with you, everything else faded away. You still performed well, even better than that, if you were to give your own humble opinion, but there were absolutely zero boundaries anymore. Despite you having set them with him beforehand.

“No funny business,” your words. Out the window the moment that he looked at you like that.

You turned around in his arms and the two of you began dancing to the song like you had practiced, but the looks, the “inappropriate” touches – according to Bang later – and the fact that you two made it so obvious that you were fucking might have been a bit... too much.

You only realized that after the concert was over and Namjoon was yelling at the two of you. To be fair, you only listened with one ear, as you were simultaneously reading the thousands of tweets in regards to the performance.

“Hey! I'm talking to you!” Namjoon yelled, not believing his eyes that you'd be this disrespectful.

But you just chuckled and read out loud: “I never thought I'd want to be sandwiched between (Y/N) and Jungkook, but here I am, gay and straight at the same time.”

Jeongguk pretended to give more of a shit than you, so he only smirked a little.

“Do you think this is a joke?” Jin asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “This is going to get us in so much trouble.”

“What, exactly?” you looked up at them, “Because the alternative would have been one of our backup dancers that are all 3+ years older than me. Did you want me to dance with them like this? Did you want them to touch me like that?”

That made them shut up relatively quickly, but Namjoon, as the leader, was understandably still upset, “This was inappropriate to say the least. You're like our sister.”

That made Jeongguk snort and get up, ruffling through his wet hair, “But she's not, hyung.”

That pissed Namjoon off even more and he ran after Jeongguk when he walked out of the room, probably to give him yet another earful. The rest of the group spread out, some grabbed a bite to eat, others just rested... and then there was Taehyung, narrowing his eyes at you as you were still scrolling through Twitter.

He hadn't seen any of these tweets himself, but he pulled out his phone a moment later and went through the respective hashtag, just to see what people were tweeting about.

And it was only the first tweet that he saw that nearly made him throw up, “They're definitely fucking,” he read out loud.

You instantly looked up at him, your eyes a little wider than before. Taehyung had looked at you normally, but when he saw your looks, his eyes widened too, his mouth opening and then closing again, especially when you looked back down to your phone without denying it.

The tweets ranged from sweet “I really hope they're happy if this is true” messages to 18+ “Idk what I'm more jealous of. That Jeongguk gets ridden by this queen or that (Y/N) gets fucked mercilessly by this king” tweets.

And let's just say that Taehyung fell into a deep deep dark hole of imagining it all... and hating every second of it.

#bts imagine #bts x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jeongguk imagine #bts #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #reader #jeon jeongguk x reader #requests

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serasvictoria · 3 years

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I've Got Dreams To Remember

Pairing: Incubus Hvitserk/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 8244 (yeah, I don't know what happened either)

Summary: A certain young man keeps showing up in your very x-rated dreams.

Notes: I fully realise that the contents of this might not be for everyone, so I’ll just say that according to some stories Incubi are capable of shapeshifting. A certain aspect of this has been inspired by @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie's absolutely brilliant fic, Take Me, so if you've read that you'll know what I'm talking about. And if you haven’t read it, what the hell are you doing? READ IT.

There is another moodboard all the way at the end of this to provide a visual for something that I describe in this so have a look at it at the end.

Tagging: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @vikingstrash @quantumlocked310

He only ever came to you in your dreams.

The dreams were interesting to say the least and he always played a very big part in them. You often wondered what deep and dark recesses of your brain had conjured him up, because you would definitely remember if you had encountered someone like him in real life.

It first started about a month ago. You’d gotten out of a particularly nasty relationship a few months before. You were still trying to navigate your way through this new life that you now had and while your friends were busy with trying to get you back onto the dating scene, you persisted in that regard. You weren’t looking for a new man in your life, but you still had needs. Sure, you had your toys, but they were a somewhat poor substitute when what you really wanted was for someone to grab your ass, lift you up and fuck you up against a wall.

Maybe that was where he had come from. Because that was exactly the scenario that you got the first time that he showed up.

It was a fairly generic one where dreams were concerned. You were in a bar with some people, a wide assortment of people that you knew in real life, when you could feel someone’s eyes on you. You looked up and stared straight into the half shaded face of a young man whose eyes you couldn’t actually make out, but you saw the smile that graced his lips and boy was it hungry. You only glanced away for a second and when you looked back again, he was already gone. You’d resigned yourself to missing your chance, when a hand suddenly grasped your wrist, dragged you outside to a nearby alleyway and gave you exactly what you’d been thinking of during your waking hours.

When you woke up, you had never found yourself feeling so satisfied before. You threw the blankets over your head, rolled over and tried to fall asleep again, but sleep didn’t take you for a second time that morning sadly enough. Later that day, after getting out of the shower and glancing in the mirror before combing your hair, you stared at your reflection in confusion or to be more precise at your bare skin. In your dream, your mystery lover had bitten your shoulder and there, right there on your shoulder, were teeth marks. But that was impossible, right? Maybe the dream had been that intense that it had somehow tricked your body into believing that it had been real? Did things like that even happen?

You didn’t dream of him the next night. Nor the following five nights. Not that you were keeping track or anything. He eventually put in another appearance though. The setting for that dream wasn’t particularly inventive either and you were almost embarrassed that your mind was even coming up with stuff that gave you the impression that they should be storylines in bad porn movies. It was a department store this time and you were looking at underwear. Your fingers continuously ran over the lace trims of various bras and touched the silky panties that came with them.

Again, you felt eyes on you and it was the same young man as from your previous dream. Apparently, dream you was in a frisky mood so you held up various bras in front of your chest, most of which he disapproved of, until you came across a bright red lace number that he seemed to like. When he finally found you in the fitting room shortly after, you were wearing the set that he had wanted to see you in before tearing it off your body and fucking you up against the full length mirror.

That was the first time that you’d gotten a good look at his face. Frankly, you were impressed with what your mind had come up with. He had long dirty blonde hair that he wore in a ponytail and that you longed to see loose. His eyes were green one time and when you looked again they seemed brown. That was one of the parts about him that mystified you. That and the part where you constantly wanted to kiss the tip of his nose and his ears. That was definitely an odd experience to say the least.

He was tall and lithe of build, but with surprising strength in his arms. The way that he would hold you was intense, like he never wanted to let you go. When his shirt came off, you found yourself staring at the intricate tattoo that covered most of his left bicep and part of his chest. It was some kind of Viking design and it looked old, but it was probably meant to look like that. You found yourself tracing it with your finger a number of times, something that seemed to amuse him.

Whenever you woke up, you were annoyed that you had been torn out of this perfect little dream world. The dream world where you were fucked six ways from Sunday. You were so thirsty for this young man that you had created that he was in your nighttime fantasies pretty much every single night now. In your dreams he left you so satisfied that you had no idea why you ever wanted to leave. If only you could stay asleep and feel this bliss forever. What would make them even more amazing was if the fantasies were better. You always swore that you were one dream away from having him come round to your house so he could have a closer look at your plumbing.

“What are you thinking about?”

Rolling over on your side, you looked at the man next to you in the bed. Despite the fact that you had been dreaming about him almost every single night for the past two weeks, you had never actually heard him talk. You’d heard him moan and groan several times, but to hear his lips form actual sentences was a new thing.

“Nothing,” you replied with a smile.

“I can read your thoughts, you know.”

“You can?”

“Yeah, I never told you?” He grinned at you and ran his fingers up and down your bare arm. “Maybe I could have told you if you’d wanted to talk, but you only want me for my body.”

“What? I don’t… I never…” You were flustered and looking for words after being so brutally called out. “It was never like…”

“It’s okay,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t mind. It’s what I do.” Since he saw the obvious confusion on your face, he continued. “I’ve been feeding off you this entire time.”

“Feeding off me? But I never feed you anything.”

“Your orgasms.” A frown creased your brow and he started laughing again before leaning in and pressing his lips against your forehead. “It’s what I need to sustain myself. I can eat other food as well, but it never quite fills me up the way orgasms do.”

“So the reason that you made me come multiple times is…”

“Because it fills me. Not my belly, mind you, but on a deeper level.” He cupped your chin and brushed the tip of his nose against yours. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I suppose a thank you is in order.” His hand slipped down, gently gripping your neck, applying just the slightest bit of pressure, before moving down to it’s destination and plucking at your nipple almost idly. He was gearing you up for another round and you found that you couldn’t actually remember how many times he had made you come already. “Can I thank you with this body that you can’t get enough of?”

“Wait.”

“So now you want to talk?” He continued his ministrations on your chest as if you hadn’t been talking at all. You caught the playful smirk on his lips before he leaned in and started sucking marks on your neck. “What do you want to know?”

“You say you feed off me, but doesn't that mean that you want to eat me?”

“And why would I want to do that? I like to use my mouth for other things,” he said with a low chuckle. You hissed through your teeth when he sank his teeth into your skin suddenly and then licked the spot where he had bitten you. “Would be a waste to eat you anyway.”

“So the reason that you’re able to…”

He pulled away so he could look you in the eye. He grinned as he pushed his hand against your shoulder and he got on top of you as soon as you were laying on your back. “Are you getting shy on me now? After everything that we’ve done?” He nudged your legs apart and you could feel his erection pressing into your thigh. “But yes, that’s why my erections last so long. The aim of the game is not to come myself, but to make sure that you do.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“I beat myself off when you wake up. It’s not like I can’t climax myself, but I can make sure that I stay hard for as long as I need to.” You could feel his tip pressing against your entrance, ready to slide in at any second. “It’s a dream. Anything can happen in a dream.”

“Anything?”

“Sure. Wanna see?”

You didn’t know what he had planned, but you nodded anyway. His eyes lit up, his irises practically glowing green right now, and he started grinning, eager to show you what else he could do. He snapped his fingers and all of a sudden you were sitting on a red velvet sofa in what appeared to be some kind of high end bar. Your legs were wide open with him on his knees in front of you, his lips already on the inside of your knee and slowly working his way up.

“So you can change locations?”

“Honey, I can change everything.” You felt his teeth on the inside of your thigh, nipping at your skin playfully, mere inches away from the top of your legs. “Is the setting not to your liking?”

“How did you even come up with this place?”

“Experience?” He briefly looked up at you and shrugged. “I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Not telling.” He stuck his tongue out at you and then dipped his head down to lick a stripe from your entrance up to your clit. “I can never get enough of how you taste.” He moaned against your core. He spent most of his time with his face between your legs in your dreams. With what he’d revealed earlier, about how he fed on your orgasms, maybe that was the place where he could taste it the best? “Not really.” You moaned loudly when he spoke, because his voice was adding vibrations to what he was doing. You’d entirely forgotten that he had mentioned that he was able to hear your thoughts. “You just taste real good.”

A single finger slid inside of you, your walls instantly clenching around him, trying to pull him in deeper. When he adds another, you start whimpering and you know that you’re going to come soon. If you could, you’d have him in this position all the time. There had never been anyone in your life who had been this good at eating you out and who was so clearly enjoying himself as well. Your last boyfriend had been a disaster on that front, more often than not he would skip foreplay entirely, but he’d still expect you to suck his dick whenever he felt like it. Figures that you’d only be able to find an enthusiastic lover in your dreams.

Guys like that simply didn’t exist in real life.

You reach down to thread your fingers through his hair. The gesture makes him suck at your clit harder and thrust his fingers in deeper than before. He was practically devouring you at this point, lapping up your juices and making sounds that told you that he hadn’t been lying when he told you that he liked how you tasted. It was almost as if he didn’t want to waste a single drop. You keened out a noise as another orgasm positively engulfed you. You’d push him away and close your thighs if you could, but he had wrapped his arms around your thighs and was using all his strength to keep them wide open. Your muscles were tight as a bowstring, your back arched and pushed you up into a position that would start to hurt if you stayed in it for too long. He was relentless though, ignoring your discomfort and continuing his assault until he had managed to pull yet another climax out of your shuddering body.

When he finally released you, you collapsed onto the sofa, your entire body sticky with sweat. You blinked a few times to stop yourself from seeing stars and when you heard him chuckle, you swatted your hand in his general direction without actually hitting him. It took you a couple of minutes, but you eventually managed to sit upright again when your lungs stopped burning. He was still on his knees in front of you with an incredibly smug impression plastered all over his face. You nudged your foot against his shoulder and he fell backwards dramatically. Your face twisted when you felt the velvet against your sweaty body. It had felt pleasant on your bare skin before, but not anymore.

“I can do something about that,” he said cheerily and snapped his fingers again. When he saw the look on your face when you noticed where you were, he couldn’t hide his amusement. “No good?”

“This is terrible,” you replied with a wide grin. “I mean. Honestly.”

The flashing light underneath you made you laugh. He’d pulled this one from your bad sex fantasies again. A piece of paper slid into the tray on the side. He picked it up, looked at it with a frown before turning the piece of paper over so you could see it.

“I think there’s something wrong with this printer.” He shook his head and pressed a few buttons underneath your leg. “It really needs fixing.”

“Think you can fix it?”

“I can try.” He pushed his hands underneath your ass just as the light flashed again and a few seconds later he showed you the black and white printout of your behind with his fingers shoved in between you and the glass that you were sitting on. “That’s beautiful. Think I might have to frame that.”

“You’re such a weirdo.”

“I think that it’s funny.” He pressed his lips on yours hungrily and you could still taste yourself on his tongue. “I got this from your mind, remember? I really think we might have to work on the state of your fantasies though. They really could be a lot more inventive.”

“Maybe I’m just not very original.”

“You’re just not giving yourself enough credit, sweetheart.”

“Maybe.” You nipped at his lower lip and then pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose which was probably a little too gentle considering all the other stuff that you’d gotten up that night, but you hardly cared anymore. “You can probably come up with something a lot better.”

“I can try, but you’re probably going to be disappointed.”

One snap of his fingers and suddenly you were in the dark. You could also tell that you were alone. The other two times, you could always feel him around you, but not this time. You hugged your arms around your torso, feeling cold for no reason at all. All of a sudden a couple of lights switched on, bathing the room in red light, and you realised that you were standing on a stage. When you glanced at the side, you could see a pole right next to you. You instinctively reached out for it, feeling the cool metal against your palm and you held it as you walked in a circle around it. There were full length mirrors all around you and you briefly looked at your reflection.

The outfit that you wore left little to the imagination which was probably the point when you took the location into account. You were wearing a red triangle bikini top and a black pair of shorts that half your ass was hanging out of. The shoes, the infamous stripper heels naturally, had plastic, see-through straps and the platform heels had a iridescent sparkle to it.

When you had done a turn, your eyes scanned the place and you could see him sitting on a chair right next to the stage, looking up at you expectantly. He obviously wanted a show so why not give him one? Holding onto the pole, you slid down until you were on your knees and then you started skimming your hands up and down your chest. He was completely enraptured and kept reaching down to readjust himself in his trousers. Given how he usually remained rockhard throughout these dreams, the skinny jeans that he was wearing right now were probably incredibly uncomfortable.

You crawled over to where he was sitting. When you had reached the edge, you reached out to grab him by his shirt and pulled him up out of his seat. His eyes widened for a second or two before he composed himself again. He couldn’t resist leaning in when your face came closer to his, but you merely ghosted your lips over his before pushing him back into his chair.

“No touching the stripper,” you chided and then wagged a finger at him. “Or I’ll ask security to kick you out.”

“But you’re allowed to touch me?”

“Are you trying to tell me you’d have me kicked out?”

“No way.” He leaned back in his chair, arm hanging over the back and he started sipping at a cocktail that suddenly materialised in his hand. “Keep going.”

The only problem there was that you had no clue what strippers even did. Sure you’d seen a video, but those women were a lot more athletic than you were. You’d also seen Showgirls once, but that movie probably wasn’t the best example about what to do. The only thing that you had learned from that movie was how not to have sex in a pool and that licking a stripper pole wasn’t particularly sexy, just incredibly unhygienic. You swung your legs over the edge of the stage and put your feet on the arm rests of his chair, practically daring him to touch you. Having caught your intent, he didn’t move and then he had the audacity to feign indifference.

Sliding off the stage, you climbed onto his lap instead and started gyrating your hips against his. You reached up to grab a handful of his hair, pulled his head back and dragged your lips down the column of his throat. When he grabbed your ass, you slapped his cheek with your free hand.

“No touching,” you whispered in his ear. “I’m not telling you again.”

“Damn, baby.” He sounded impressed by how well you were taking control of this new situation. “That is such a fucking turn-on.” You pulled on his hair harder and since your mouth was still close to his ear, you took his earlobe between your teeth and gave it a gentle tug. “Holy shit. You’re a fucking natural.”

“Oh yeah?”

You leaned back so you could look him in the eye. His eyes sparkled with obvious excitement and a deeper, more animalistic need. Like he could grab you at any moment, throw you onto the stage and fuck you right there if you pushed him too far. Very tempting. Reaching to the back of your neck, you pulled at the bow that held the strings of the halterneck together and when it was loosened, they fell down your shoulders. You pushed the cups down until they hung loosely around your chest. The only thing that was keeping the top on was the string that tied together around your back.

His eyes flitted down to your chest and then back up to your face again. You wanted him to touch you, but after telling him off a few times, you weren’t sure if he was going to. So you placed your hand on the back of his head and pressed him against your chest instead. You felt him smile against your skin and then his lips started moving, shifting in the direction of your nipple.

A shiver ran down your spine and you looked up suddenly. You had the odd feeling that there was another set of eyes on you, but that was impossible since the two of you were the only people here. Looking up at the bar, you saw a young man who was leaning against the bar and watching the two of you intently. He was smartly dressed in a dark blue suit, his long hair loose and hanging down over his shoulders. Even in this odd red light, you could tell that his skin was too pale, so white that it was almost translucent and when he grinned at you, you could see that his canines were too long, too pointy. Without realising it yourself, you had frozen entirely and the young man underneath you had sensed it, looking up at you in confusion before following your eyes.

“What the fuck, man!” He suddenly shouted at the other guy, anger flashing behind his eyes. “The hell are you doing here? Fuck off!” The man at the bar shrugged and disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was that?”

“My brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, he’s a dick,” he said with a deep sigh. “Our mother would keep tabs on us when we were kids to make sure that we didn’t get into any trouble. You have any idea how weird it is when your mother enters the dreams where you’re trying to get off with a girl? Fucking embarrasing.” He raised his eyebrows at you when he noticed that you were trying to suppress a laugh and pinched your side. “I don’t know how the fuck it works, but my mother taught the little shit how to do it as well and so he just… I dunno… shows up sometimes like the little creep that he is.”

“Does that mean that he’ll come back?”

“No. He just likes to remind me that he can do it from time to time.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his head against your chest. “But fuck that. I don’t want to talk about my asshole brothers.”

“Brothers?”

“Ah shit. No. Not talking about them.” He pulled at the string on your back, pulled the bikini top from your body and threw it on the stage. “So this particular fantasy is ruined now. Let's start again, shall we?”

“Can’t we salvage it?”

“I’ve got something better.” The look on his face told you that this had the potential to be really good. “Do you trust me?”

“How bad is this going to be?” He tilted his head to the side, that wasn’t the answer that he had wanted to hear. “Yes.”

“I don’t do this a lot so bear with me alright?”

Another snap of the fingers and the strip bar starts to fade away. You were sitting on a bed now and you were wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that looked old. The new location was just as red (he really did seem to like that colour), but it didn’t look that special to you. In fact, it looked like a fairly cheap love motel, one where lovers would retreat to so they could enjoy each other's company for about an hour before going their separate ways again.

You got up from the bed and walked over to a table by the window to look at what was set out on it. There was a big bowl of strawberries and a bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne right next to it. He’d really pulled out all the stops, even in a dream. You were giggling to yourself when the door to the bathroom opened and someone appeared in the doorway. It took you a short moment before you realised who it was, but when it all clicked into place your mouth fell open.

Because leaning against the doorframe was a woman. Her dirty blonde hair was loose and still slightly wet, hinting at the fact that she’d been taking a shower moments earlier. She was wearing a silk bathrobe that was tied together by the waist with a big bow and you could see her hard nipples quite clearly through the thin material. The smirk was damn near unmistakable however. When she approached you, you instantly got the impression that you were her prey, there was just something very predatory in the way that she moved. She came to a standstill right in front of you and her mischievous eyes flashed bright green briefly.

“Feed me,” she said with a grin. You took one of the strawberries from the bowl and when you presented it to her, she held her mouth wide open, ready to be fed. You felt her tongue swipe over your fingers when you fed it to her and then she let out a single moan when she started chewing. A few seconds later you felt a finger against your chin so she could push your mouth shut. “Surprised?”

“Very.” You looked her up and down. The bathrobe barely covered the tops of her thighs and she reached down to play with the hemline, to make sure that your eyes stayed focused on her legs. “I didn’t know you could turn into a woman.”

“It’s a dream,” she stated simply. “Anything’s possible.” She leaned in to you and you closed your eyes, anticipating a kiss, but then her lips brushed against the shell of your ear as she talked. “I don’t do this a lot though. So consider yourself special.”

“All this to make up for your brother interfering?”

“Guess you could say that.” She took your hands and started pulling you along to the bed. When you reached it you thought that she was finally going to kiss you, but then she spun you round and made you sit on the bed instead. She pulled on the bow that held the bathrobe together and brushed it open, revealing herself to you slowly, like one might unveil a priceless painting. “Like what you see?”

Your throat had gone dry and you found that you had lost the ability to form words. He was beautiful when he was a man, but now that he was a woman, his toned torso had given way to soft curves and skin that looked so smooth that you wanted to do nothing else but reach out and touch it. She took a step closer and stood in between your open legs, a sweet smile on her lips as she looked down at you.

“You’re not talking.” There was a slight teasing tone to her voice as she spoke. “That bad?”

“No.” She took your hand and moved it up until it was covering her bare breast. You gave a quick experimental squeeze. “Just surprised. Takes some getting used to.” Your other hand moved up of its own accord so you could cup her other breast as well. “I mean, I’ve never been with another woman before.”

“You can. If you want to.”

While you had only ever been with men, the thought of being with a woman wasn’t something that you weren’t entirely opposed to. Especially not with someone as beautiful and seductive as this. She shrugged out of the robe and dropped it to the floor. The tattoo that was usually on his left arm had changed into something more delicate and feminine, pink cherry blossoms with green leaves and branches in between them that curled up her arm and covered part of her clavicle. You moved your hand up and started tracing them with your fingers, gently caressing her skin, her green eyes following your every move.

When you heard a soft giggle, you looked back at her face and before you could say anything, she’d pushed you back onto the mattress. She was on top of you a split second later and then you finally felt her soft lips on yours. You could still taste the sweet strawberry on her lips and on her tongue when she slipped it into your mouth. Your hands ran down her back, following her spine and then settling on her ass. Whenever you squeezed, she ground her hips down against yours and you were suddenly overcome with the urge to see her on her back with her hair fanned out over the red sheets.

Grabbing her hips, you flipped her over and since she’d just read your thoughts, she reached up and made sure her hair was spread out just the way that you had just imagined it. She started pushing your shirt up and you almost ripped it off in your eagerness to get naked for her, even if she’d seen you like that many times before. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and shoved her hand into your sweatpants roughly. Her fingers started rubbing at your sex, finding you very wet and very willing.

Pulling her hand out, you leaned back and pushed your pants down, kicking your legs to get them off entirely without moving too far away from her. When you were completely naked, her hand settled back at the top of your legs, her movements more hurried and urgent now. With your hands on her breasts, you started licking and nipping at her neck, moaning against her skin when one of her fingers started circling your clit.

“I want to make you come,” you groaned into her ear. “Never made you… fuck… come before.”

“But you give me so many other things,” she purred back. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You skimmed one hand down her stomach and slipped your hand between her legs. “Jesus Christ. You’re so wet.” You were rewarded with a moan when you tried touching her the way you liked to be touched. It was almost as if you were moving on autopilot, like you instinctively knew what to do. “Please.”

She didn’t reply so instead you pulled your hand away from her, making her let out a displeased whine, and you pulled your face away from her neck so she could watch you suck your fingers into your mouth. You twirled your tongue around your fingers, making sure that she could see exactly what you were doing and then moved your hand down again. You pressed them up against her entrance first, teasing her with the slightest bit of pressure and then slipped them inside. She started tilting her hips up against your hand and the way that her face contorted in pleasure really was something that would be etched into your mind forever.

“Can I?” You repeated the question since you still hadn’t gotten an answer. “I really want to.” Pressing your lips down on hers again in a searing kiss, you murmured against her lips. “Please say yes.” You pressed your fingers in as deep as they could go, all the way down to the third knuckle. Since he had seemed to like it quite a bit when you did it earlier, you tangled your fingers in her long hair and gave a forceful tug. She gasped into your mouth and you knew that you had her. “I’ll just keep doing this until you say yes.”

“Fuck.” She shifted underneath you and you reluctantly pulled your lips away from hers. “I love it when you do that.”

“I know.” A triumphant grin formed on your lips and she was so obviously into it that it was hard to drop this act. Dipping your head down, you bit her neck suddenly and she squealed with obvious delight. You decided to thrust your fingers into her harder and she was so wet now that you could hear your digits moving in and out of her. “I want to make you come so bad.”

“You’re pretty good at this,” she moaned breathlessly. “Want to take this a little bit further?”

“How?”

“I’ll give you what you want, but not like this.” She wrapped a hand around your wrist and gently pulled your hand away. She then brought your hand up to her lips and started licking her own juices off your fingers with such fervour that she could have been mistaken for a starving animal. Seeing that was so arousing that you couldn’t stop a moan from escaping from your lips. “I want you to do something else.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Check the drawers.”

You scrambled off of her, probably a little bit too fast, in your eagerness to see what was in there. You were expecting a vibrator, a buttplug even, but you must have pulled a particularly funny face when you saw what was in the drawer instead because she started laughing as soon as she saw your expression. You hooked your fingers in one of the straps and lifted it up, probably looking very much afraid to even touch it. Your eyes were wide as it hung from your fingers and you turned back to fully face her.

“You want me to wear...” You gestured at it with your free hand. “...this?”

“Well, yes, sweetheart.” She got on all fours and crawled over to your side of the bed. “That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“Right.”

“You’re not sure.”

“It’s just… this is very much virgin territory for me.”

“You were doing fine just now.”

“That’s kinda different though, isn’t it?” You looked down at the strap-on that was still dangling from your fingers and she started poking at it playfully. It looked so silly that you couldn’t help but laugh. Truth be told, you were kind of curious about this kind of thing. “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.” She pushed herself up on her knees and hooked her arms around your neck, pressing her entire body flush against you. “So. What do you say?”

“This is definitely one of the weirdest dreams I’ve ever had.”

“Yes or no.” She started kissing you, nice and slow, and then sucked your bottom lip into her mouth. Your hands snaked down her back and when she nipped at your lip, you gave her ass a hard slap. “Baby!” She started giggling, her fingernails digging into your shoulder blades when you grabbed her ass and squeezed her roughly. “I love it when you manhandle me.”

“That’s new for me as well.”

“I really am pushing your boundaries, ain’t I?” She pulled away suddenly and got on all fours again, turning her ass in your direction. She wiggled her hips and peered over her shoulder until you slapped her again. “Keep doing that and I’ll climax before you’ve shoved that thing inside of me.”

“Yeah right.” But you slapped her on the other cheek just for good measure. She pushed back until her ass was pressed against your hips and then she started moving backwards and forwards like you were already thrusting into her. “I need some help… with this thing…”

She faced you again in a flash, obviously excited by your willingness to do this. The harness was on you fairly quickly all things considered and then she lowered herself, gave you a quick wink and started sucking the large dildo into her mouth. So that’s what it looked like from that angle. You stroked her hair in very much the same manner like your previous partners had always done with you whenever you went down on them. Come to think of it, you suddenly realised that you had never actually had his cock in your mouth. That probably wasn’t all that weird considering this no climaxing thing that he appeared to have going on, but whenever you’d even attempted to kiss your way down his chest, he always stopped you.

You felt her tap her fingers against your hip and then she released the dildo with a pop. “You’re overthinking this. This isn’t about me. Never was.” Sitting up on her knees again, she stroked the side of your face almost lovingly and you eased into her touch for a few seconds. “Like I said earlier, the aim is to make you come.” She flashed you a big, predatory smile and then continued, “Speaking of. You do this right and afterwards I’ll push myself into you balls deep and fuck you until your fucking alarm goes off. How’s that for a tradeoff?”

“The way that you usually are?”

“Depends on what you want.” Her hand settled on your chest and she twisted one of your nipples between her fingers. “If you want me to wear that strap-on afterwards, I can do that. No problem.”

“You’ll probably be able to tell exactly what I want when I’m done with you.”

“You bet your ass, baby.” She winked at you and then a bottle of lube magically appeared in her hand. “I know that this is a dream, but I still need to use this.”

“Do you have any idea how weird it is when you do that?” She looked at you with her perfect eyebrows raised as she squeezed some liquid into her hand, applied it liberally to the silicone shaft and then the tube disappeared again when she was done. “Magicking things up out of thin air.”

“That’s what you think is weird about all this?” She rubbed her hands between her legs, applying some more lube on her pussy and started pushing her hips up against her hands. “I can change everything about this dream, even my gender, but when I make stuff appear in my hand that’s taking it one step too far?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” She turned her back on you and pressed her ass against the sex toy. “Now get it over with and fuck me already.”

“That really wasn’t necessary.” You grabbed a handful of her hair, pulled hard and twisted her head back. She laughed breathlessly and pushed her hips back again. “I’m just going to have to fuck this attitude out of you.”

“Fuck yes! Teach me a lesson.” She was practically purring the words at you. When you pushed her forward roughly, she loudly voiced her delight. You pressed one hand firmly between her shoulder blades, making sure that her face stayed down. Grabbing her hips, you made her raise her ass in the air and then positioned yourself in front of her entrance. “I’ve been such a bad girl.” With one thrust of your hips, you slipped inside of her and she let out a long stretched out moan as you watched the dildo disappear inside of her. “You’re so fucking big.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that sudden admission. For some reason she was playing the part that loads of women seemed to play in porn movies and when you started pumping in and out of her, she wouldn’t stop moaning about how good it felt and how well you were fucking her. This really was something else and whenever you glanced down at how her ass rippled whenever your hips connected with her, you couldn’t help but be completely fascinated with how it looked, practically unable to tear your eyes away from her.

Her noises started increasing and you kept slapping her already reddening ass in between thrusts. Pulling out almost entirely, you pushed back in so hard that her moans were starting to sound muffled. Never once pausing what you were doing on her, you slid one hand down over her hip so you could touch her clit. You ran the other one up her spine, tightened your fingers in her hair and yanked her up, pulling her against your chest.

“I wanna hear you,” you groaned in her ear and she started whimpering instantly. “You gonna come for me now?”

“Almost,” she mewled back. “I’m so close.” You speeded up the motions against her clit and she let out a loud cry, reaching back with one hand to wrap it around the back of your head. You were barely able to move your hips at this odd angle, but she didn’t seem to care from the way that she was bucking up against your hand and panting. When she started whimpering and rubbing her back against your chest, you could feel the muscles in her thighs constricting against your hand. “Fuck.”

A grunt of pleasure was torn from her throat and she arched her back, all her muscles going rigid all at once when her orgasm tore through her. You kept her pulled against you, absolutely delighted that you appeared to have done this right despite being slightly weirded out about it at first. When you released her, she dropped down onto the bed, completely out of breath. You lay down on your side next to her and studied her face closely. Her eyes were squeezed shut and you ran your fingers up and down her jaw as she caught her breath.

“Gimme a sec…”

You saw her swallow hard, her throat no doubt having gone dry. You got up off the bed and giggled when you looked down. Seeing that huge silicone dildo swaying about with every step that you took really looked hilarious. When you reached the table, you were ready to struggle with attempting to open the champagne before noticing that she’d already taken care of that. There were two glasses filled with the sparkly liquid standing right next to it.

When you turned back around, you saw that she was gone and that he was now laying on the bed in her place. You briefly frowned, sad that you hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye before realising that they were one and the same person. You heard him laughing from the bed when you walked back with the glass in your hands.

“What’s so funny?”

“You are.” You sat down next to him and waited until he’d pushed himself up into a sitting position before handing him the glass. He emptied the glass in one big sip. “Wanting to say goodbye.”

“I just forgot. Until earlier I thought that you were nothing but a figment of my imagination.”

“Oh no.” He threw the glass across the room and it bounced off the wall before rolling onto the floor. He looked down at your lap and flicked his fingers against the strap-on. “I’m very real.”

“Can you help me get this thing off?”

“Or you could keep it on.” He flashed you a quick and very dirty smile. “I’d let you peg me.”

You almost choked when you tried to imagine what that would look like and blurted out a quick, “One thing at a time please.”

“Spoilsport.” He tapped a finger on the harness and then it was gone. “You’d be pretty good at it, you know. Pull my hair a couple of times and I’m yours to do with as you please.” Before you could reply to that, he put an arm around your waist and pulled you back onto the bed. Moving you onto your back, he knocked all the air out of your lungs when he suddenly got on top of you and pinned your hands up above your head. “But I promised to do something else anyway. So I win anyway.”

He kept true to his word and fucked you with such ferocity afterwards that when you finally woke up the following morning, it was a damn miracle that you were even able to walk at all. And all that just because of a dream. In the many more dreams that followed afterwards, the woman made an appearance on more than one occasion. On some nights you would just get her and other times he would turn into her while he had his mouth on your pussy. You were never entirely sure about how the entire thing even worked. He wasn’t merely something that your horny mind had come up with one night. No, he was indeed very real.

A couple of months into this very odd arrangement, where he would satisfy your every desire while you were asleep, you were at the beach with your friends. They were convinced that you were seeing someone even if you always said that you weren’t. Maybe this little weekend getaway was a ploy to get more information out of you, but how could you possibly tell them that you’d met someone in your dreams? You’d sound like a bloody lunatic.

When the four of you were looking for a spot to spread out your beach towels, you passed two guys. One was sitting underneath a parasol, dressed in a black t-shirt and black shorts, making sure that no part of him even got out of the shade that was provided by the large umbrella over his head. He was scowling at another young man with long blonde wavy hair who was sitting next to him, strumming a blue ukulele.

Your small group settled down a couple of feet away from them and stripped down to the bathing suits that you wore underneath your clothes. You were wearing a red triangle bikini, somehow now also favouring the colour since your dreams were constantly bathed in it. Your friends headed down towards the water while you sat down on your towel and started reading the romance novel that you’d brought with you.

After a couple of minutes, you realised that you had completely stopped paying attention to what you were reading but were instead focusing entirely on the young man a couple of feet behind you who had started singing. You instantly recognised the song that he was singing. It was the song that the sirens sang to Odysseus in the Odyssey. You were so hypnotised by the song, that you’d completely forgotten about your surroundings. It wasn’t until something slammed into your upper arm that the spell was broken. Your head whipped to the side and you saw a frisbee laying next to you in the sand.

“My bad!” A voice called out to you and you picked the piece of plastic up to hold it out to whoever was approaching you. “I am so sorry! I should have caught that.”

“No problem. Not like I’m…” As soon as you looked up the words died in your throat and you instead stared at the young man who was now standing next to you with wide eyes. “Wait…”

“Well, this is a surprise.” He dropped down onto his knees next to you in the sand, a huge smile plastered all over his face, and he took the frisbee from your hands. “Definitely wasn’t expecting this.” For some reason, you reached out and poked a finger against his chest. You half expected that your mind was playing some kind of trick on you, as if your finger was going to pass right through him, but it didn’t. “See? Real.”

“Serk!” Another voice called out and he tore his eyes away from yours to look at whoever it was that had called his name. “Stop hitting on girls and toss the frisbee back!”

“I’m done playing!” He threw the frisbee back which the other guy effortlessly caught. “Tell Sigurd to play with you before he drowns someone with his singing.”

“Fine! But you owe me.” He winked at you and turned around to join the other two guys that you had passed when you had just arrived. Your eyes were drawn to his back or to be more specific to the long braid that swung back and forth as he walked away.

“Stop checking out my brother.” You blinked and turned your attention back on him. “You want me to introduce you? I mean, if you’d rather want to spend time with him than me…”

“What? No!” He chuckled when your words came out louder than you intended. “Not funny.” He ran a hand down your arm, mirroring the same thing that he’d often do in your dreams. “He called you Serk. Is that your name?”

“Short for Hvitserk.” He held out his hand to you. “And what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you replied when you took his hand in yours. He repeated your name with a warm smile. “I erm… this is weird…”

“Is it?” He let your hand go and got to his feet. You panicked slightly, thinking that he might leave, when he suddenly extended his hand to you. “Come on. I wanna buy you a drink.”

“And then what?”

“I dunno,” he said with a shrug when he pulled you up off the ground. “Sit with me. Talk. I know you, but that’s the dream you and now I want to know the real you. That okay?”

“Sure.” He started pulling you along to the beach bars a short distance away. “I’d like that.”

*****

And this moodboard is based on when I described female Hvitserk coming out of the bathroom.

#vikings #vikings au #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk ragnarsson #incubus hvitserk #hvitserk x you #smutty smut smut #mar writes #mar moodboards

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seijorhi · 4 years

Note

Hi, I saw ur post about requests closing soon so I figured I’d give ya another, but it’s okay if ya don’t get to it anytime soon since you have so many!! Can I request Yandere Suga and Daichi with a fem! darling who’s oblivious to them, and they both maintain the image of friends in front of others but they’re actually fighting each other for your love, but then you start dating someone else and they both team up? I 💕 your writing so much, I’m excited to see what you do 😌

Yes of course bby! Hope you like it 💕

Daichi Sawamura x female reader, Sugawara Koushi x female reader

TW implied non-con, slight nsfw, manipulation, abuse of power (kinda), minor violence, mentions of grief

Tug O’ War

You meet Daichi first, on the outskirts of Miyagi thanks to a blown tyre and a dead phone battery. It’s just after nine pm and you’re ready to resign yourself to abandoning your car and hiking the rest of the way when the police cruiser pulls up, and sitting behind the wheel is Officer Daichi.

Sawamura, he tells you on the drive into town.

“So I take it you’re not from around here?” he asks, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

There’s a small smile adorning his face, but you know he’s just being polite, trying to break the somewhat awkward silence between the two of you. Truth be told you don’t mind the quiet. With his radio playing quietly in the background, you’re still trying to sort through your thoughts, prepare yourself for what’s waiting for you when you arrive.

But that’s not his problem, and you don’t want to be rude, so you shake your head with a faint smile of your own. “I am actually… or I was, I guess. I moved away after high school.”

A lone eyebrow quirks, “Oh yeah? So what brings you back to Miyagi then? Family?”

Fingers twist in your lap.

“… Something like that.”

Maybe it’s because of the nerves eating away at your stomach, or maybe it’s just been a while since you’ve been back, but the drive to your sister’s house feels like it takes longer than it should. Daichi makes easy conversation the whole drive, and by the time you pull up out front of your old childhood home you find yourself glad of the temporary reprieve.

“Thank you. For the lift, I mean,” you tell him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he lifts your suitcase out of the trunk and passes it over to you. “I would have been up for one hell of a walk if you hadn’t come along.”

He grins down at you, laughing not unkindly, “It is kind of my job, but you’re welcome. I could hardly leave you stranded, now could I?”

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can speak a word the front door of the house is thrown open and a tiny figure barrels out onto the front lawn. You have a split second to brace yourself before impact, tiny arms wrapping around your middle, “Auntie!!!”

A bewildered Daichi watches as you smile (genuinely, perhaps for the first time that night), ruffling the boy’s hair. “Hey buddy, how’s my favourite little man?”

Glancing up, you spy your sister standing in the open doorway and your smile fades a touch. Your nephew’s already excitedly chattering, blissfully oblivious to the situation - a minor miracle in and of itself - as he eagerly tugs you back up towards the house.

It’s only when you’re halfway up the driveway that you remember Daichi.

A glance back over your shoulder confirms your suspicion - he’s still standing there, watching the odd display with a slightly confused expression, though to his credit he manages to quickly school his features back into something a touch more befitting an officer of the law when he realises he’s been caught.

“Thank you again, really. I appreciate it. You’re kinda my hero tonight.”

He nods, and it might be a trick of the dim light, but you swear you see his cheeks flush pink, “Anytime.”

Just as he promised, your car is picked up by a local towing company the very next morning before you’re even out of bed. The tyre is replaced without too much fuss, but when you go to pay, the mechanic simply shakes his head and tells you it’s all been taken care of.

You make a mental note to swing by the station and thank Daichi (again) in person.

***

It’s only fitting, you suppose, that you meet Suga a few days later.

Thursday’s your sister works late, which leaves you to pick your nephew up from school. You’re thankful that they’re already aware of the situation, nobody questions why a veritable stranger is passing through the gates - at least, not after your nephew perks up at the sight of you, shouting your name as he hastily tries to shove his arms through his backpack. In his excitement he almost trips - would have tripped - if not for the silver haired man who catches him before he can stumble, setting him right with a shake of his head.

“Please slow down, Daisuke. You’ll hurt yourself,” he chastises gently.

Your nephew pouts, and you can’t help but chuckle a little as he ducks his head in shame as you approach. “Hey bud, did you have a good day?”

Hazel eyes regard you curiously as your nephew clings to your legs, nodding before burying his face into your side.

“You must be Y/N,” the man - Daisuke’s teacher you can only assume - says as he straightens up.

Considering your nephew had all but screamed it across the courtyard, there’s not really a need to confirm it, but you nod anyway, accepting his hand when he offers it.

He’s tall and handsome - though maybe handsome’s the wrong word. Pretty, maybe - his features are soft and delicate, with long eyelashes and eyes you could quite easily lose yourself in, truth be told.

“His mother told us you’d be coming by every now and then to pick him up. It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Sugawara, Daisuke’s teacher.” He pauses, biting his lip for a moment before exhaling quietly. “I’m sorry, by the way, about…”

You’re quick to wave him off, ignoring the painful tug in your chest, “Please, it’s- I-I’m not… It’s fine.”

It’s very much not.

Even as you say the words your hand finds its way to Daisuke’s hair, stroking it gently as his grip tightens. You’ve never been good at dealing with grief, your own or anybody else’s, but you can’t stand the platitudes - even those with the best of intentions.

Sugawara frowns faintly but he doesn’t push you and desperate to change the subject you force a smile on your face, “So, you’re the famous Suga I’ve heard so much about! He absolutely adores you, you know? You’re almost all he talks about at home.”

He laughs, and just like that you feel the tension in the air dissipate. “Oh, is that so? I guess I could say the same about you. I’ve heard nothing but ‘auntie Y/N’ all week.”

Your cheeks heat, and you gaze fondly down at the boy still clinging to your side. “He’s a good kid.”

Daisuke chooses that moment to pipe up, launching into a detailed recount of his day, much to your and Suga’s mutual amusement.

And neither you nor Daisuke notice that while you’re engrossed in his retelling, Sugawara’s pretty hazel eyes are focused on you, a soft smile playing across his lips.

Thursday afternoon pick ups quickly morph into Tuesday, Thursday and Friday afternoon pick ups as well as Monday morning drop offs, and you don’t mind one bit. For one, you know that your sister appreciates it more than she lets on and you would do anything to make this even the slightest bit easier for her, and it gives you a bit more time to spend with Daisuke, which you’ve missed more than you care to admit.

Also because whenever you do stop by to pick him up, Suga - Koushi, as he keeps insisting you call him - makes it his personal mission to strike up a conversation, whether he’s out there supervising the kids or not.

He’s friendly and warm and has a surprising habit of making you laugh at the most unexpected things, and you can’t help but find yourself being reeled in by the silver haired man. It doesn’t hurt that Daisuke thinks he hangs the moon in the sky, but there’s just something about Suga that’s… easy.

He doesn’t push. Doesn’t poke or pry. You still have a few friends in Miyagi, but the conversations inevitably end up circling back to what happened and how you’re holding up. You don’t blame them, you know they’re only worried about you, but it’s exhausting. Suga’s a breath of fresh air, and you hadn’t realised how desperate you were for a friend who didn’t know all the grizzly details.

Though being Daisuke’s teacher, he undoubtedly does.

But Suga seems content to pretend, until the day you arrive sniffling, eyes rimmed in red and unable to muster your usual smile.

That’s when the facade breaks, and he takes you back inside the classroom away from all the prying eyes of the other parents and lets you fall apart on his shoulder. You should be mortified, but you suppose that Suga’s probably uniquely equipped at dealing with emotional outbursts, considering he spends his days surrounded by six year olds.

“He was like my big brother,” you whisper after a while, your voice shattered and raw. “I miss him so much.”

He doesn’t say a word but his grip tightens and he hums quietly, and that’s enough.

***

A week after you get settled, you swing by the local police station with two coffees in hand and timidly ask the uniformed officer sitting at the front desk if Daichi’s around. The man looks at you, looks at the two drinks in your hands and grins a little too widely.

“Good ol’ Daichi, eh?” he winks, “Yeah, he won’t be back for a while. Can I help you with anything, ma’am?”

Your cheeks burn. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise considering he’s a police officer and all, but it does and you feel like an absolute idiot. Of course you should have checked before coming, but even if you’d had the foresight to do that, it wasn’t like you had his number.

Thankfully the other officer takes pity on you after you explain why you’re actually there, promising to let Daichi know you stopped by, diligently taking down your number to pass along as well.

True to his word, it’s hours later - well into the afternoon - when your phone lights up with a notification. Several, in fact.

Hey Y/N.

It’s Daichi.

Sawamura.

Srgt. Mokoto said you came to see me today?

Is everything okay??

The corner of your lips quirked up, and you get the sense that Mokoto had likely neglected to tell Daichi the real reason you’d dropped in, probably to make him sweat.

Hey :)

Yeah everything’s fine.

I brought you coffee as a thank you for the other day! Which I maaay have drank myself when you weren’t there…

But let me make it up to you! I can drop by the station if you’re around on wednesday at all?

The reply comes quickly.

Absolutely. 10:30 work?

You shoot back a quick reply confirming and toss your phone on the couch with a sigh.

It buzzes again a moment later, but the text message waiting for you isn’t from Daichi.

So a little birdie tells me you’re back in town.

***

“You know, you really didn’t have to bring me coffee. I meant what I said, it’s part of my job. My boss would have had my ass if I’d just left you stranded there like that.”

You glance over at him with a wry smile. “Yeah? And paying for my new tyre and the towing, is that part of your job too?”

Daichi’s cheeks flush pink and he almost chokes on his sip of coffee. “Ah.”

‘Ah’ indeed. “So considering I doubt you’re going to let me pay you back-”

He lifts a hand to stop you, shaking his head adamantly, “Not a chance. I know the guy who runs the garage, he owes me a favour. It was nothing, really-”

“Then coffee is the least I can do,” you say with an easy shrug. “But I know you’re busy, and I don’t want to keep you too long-”

Daichi’s hand - warm and rough - reaches out to close around your wrist, stopping you before you can stand.

“Stay,” he says, dark eyes glimmering.

***

You’ve forgotten, having spent the last few years living in the heart of Tokyo, just how small a town this really is.

You’re standing out by the school gates watching Daisuke run around with his friends when Suga decides to broach the subject.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Hmm?” You glance up to find him watching you with that same fond if not mildly exasperated expression on his face. It’s not his fault, not really - you’ve just been a little out of it the past few days.

Thankfully, Suga doesn’t hold it against you, chuckling. “Tomorrow night - are you free?” he repeats.

Your eyes widen a little, cheeks warming. “Um… well I kinda have a… thing earlier, but I should be free by then. Why?”

A silver eyebrow lifts. “A thing?” he prods.

“Just a thing. Why are you being so nosy all of a sudden?”

Suga laughs again, “Well if you’re not still tied up with your thing, I’m having some friends over for drinks for my birthday. You should come.”

Which is how you find yourself standing nervously out the front of Suga’s apartment, a bottle of wine in hand.

When you knock, however, the person who opens the door is not the one you’re expecting. Tall, broad shouldered and handsome, out of uniform for the first time since you’d met him-

“D-Daichi?”

The brunette stares, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.

“I, uh… I’m- is Suga… Is Sugawara here?” you manage to stutter out, fighting the urge to fidget under his gaze.

His brows furrow, an odd look passing over his eyes, and for one awful moment you think you’ve somehow managed to screw up the address. But before you can embarrass yourself further, a familiar head of silver hair appears behind his shoulder, slapping him on the back.

Relief washes over you. “Suga! Happy birthday!”

Pushing a still somewhat bewildered Daichi out of the way, Suga’s quick to wrap you up in a warm embrace - which takes you by surprise - with a grin. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Your eyes flicker back to Daichi for a split second, and Suga’s follow. He’s more observant than most give him credit for, but even the most oblivious would have a hard time not noticing the blank expression on the brunette’s face - or the way he was still staring at you. “You two… know each other?” he asks, ignoring the teasing and impatient shouts coming from inside the apartment.

Finally, Daichi snaps out of his stupor. “Yeah. We met the night she moved back into town.”

“Which is a polite way of saying that my car basically imploded and he saved me from having to hike all the way back to my sister’s,” you correct, and Daichi huffs in amusement, though he doesn’t disagree. “Suga teaches my nephew,” you tell him, answering the unspoken question written across his face. “I didn’t realise the two of you were friends, though!”

The two share a glance over your shoulder.

“Yep.”

“Small world, I guess.”

You laugh, passing Suga the bottle of wine, allowing Daichi to lead you inside with an innocent hand on your lower back.

There’s a decent few people squashed into Suga’s modest apartment, but somehow you manage to find yourself sitting around his coffee table, Daichi’s arm slung over the back of your seat, Suga sitting opposite you both, discussing - of all things - high school sports.

“Volleyball, huh?”

You can kind of see it. They’re both tall and in great shape - you’re pretty damn certain the muscles Daichi sports aren’t just for show - but it’s more than that. You tilt your head, chewing on your bottom lip. “What school did you say you played for?”

“Karasuno,” Suga says.

It takes a moment for it to click - though you blame that on the drink in your hand that Suga’s dutifully kept topped up - Karasuno… the flightless crows. Ah yes.

A slow smile creeps across your face.

“I saw you play once.”

Both men’s eyes widen, “You did?” Suga asks.

“Yep. The guy I was dating at the time, he played too.” You almost laugh when you glance up to find Daichi frowning at your side, an unexpected tightness in Suga’s usually easy going smile, “It’s okay,” you reassure them, ignoring the traitorous flutter in your stomach, “you guys won. It damn near broke his poor heart.” Not that he’d ever admitted as much out loud.

There’s a short silence, then-

“What team?”

You do laugh at that, “Don’t you think you guys are a little past high school rivalries?”

The ex-captain and setter meet each other’s eyes. Neither speak a word, but something utterly indecipherable passes between them, and when Daichi finally breaks it to glance back at you, there’s a sharp grin plastered across his face.

“Nope.”

You shake your head, feeling like you’ve missed something.

***

Hours later, fresh from a steamy shower, you stumble into bed and grab your phone from the nightstand. Sure enough, two unread messages are waiting for you.

You looked so damned pretty today.

Are you gonna let me take you out to dinner now or am I gonna have to get on my hands and knees and beg?

You smile into your pillow, quickly typing out a reply.

I don’t know, you used to be pretty good on your knees.

Your phone lights up a moment later, a familiar ringtone playing out.

***

Life gets busy after that.

Suga mentions that Daisuke is struggling in class, so you decide to join some of the other parents and volunteer as a ‘class helper’ one afternoon a week. Dai beams whenever you show up, and Suga seems eternally grateful for the extra set of hands - even if it’s just for craft time.

And just when you think you’ve managed to patch one hole, another appears. Miyagi might be a far cry from the hustle and bustle of Tokyo, it’s not immune to the low life creeps that used to hang around your old apartment block in the city - you’re mugged walking back from the store, a bag of groceries for dinner in arm. The guy only hits you once, a blow to the cheek that sends you sprawling to the ground, grabs your bag - the one with your phone and wallet - and runs.

Your sister almost bursts into tears when she sees the cut on your lip, and it’s guilt more than anything else that swells through you when she spends the next twenty minutes berating you for not being careful enough.

You know she doesn’t mean it, you know she’s just scared. The promise falls from your lips before you can stop it, but it’s worth it you think, when her face relaxes and she pulls you into a tight hug.

But when you drop by the station the next morning, Daichi takes one look at you, and you watch in perfect slow motion as that warm smile freezes and falls. You expect the police report he makes you file, though you don’t really hold that much hope that they’re going to get your phone or wallet back, but not the words that come out of his mouth next.

“Self defence classes? Daichi, I...” you exhale with a huff, “don’t you think that’s a little excessive?”

The dark look in Daichi’s eyes as they flicker across your face tells you otherwise. “What if they had a knife, or a gun?”

You would have just thrown your bag and run, you weren’t stupid - your purse wasn’t worth your life, but Daichi doesn’t want to hear a word of it.

“What if your wallet wasn’t all he wanted?” he presses, and you stiffen at the implication. Gentle hands reach across the table to grab yours, the rough pad of his thumb brushing against the back of your palm, “Just you and me, two hours a week, that’s all I’m asking.”

… What now?

“You’re going to teach me?”

“You got somebody better in mind, sweetheart?” he asks with a cocked eyebrow and a wry grin.

It makes sense, you suppose - what with him being a police officer and all.

And between your one on one sessions with him, volunteering at the school with Suga, making sure that Daisuke got to school on time, that the house was cleaned, there was food in the pantry and your sister wasn’t falling apart, you were running on fumes.

Yet when you come home exhausted and aching from Daichi’s place and catch sight of him, casually leaning against your doorway with a bag of takeout and that damned smirk you’d fallen head over heels in love with all those years ago, you can’t help but grin.

“Hey, baby. You hungry?”

Thank goodness for small mercies.

***

They’re more observant than you give them credit for.

Suga notices the way you gingerly stretch to put away the paint supplies one afternoon.

Daichi catches an eyeful of a bruise on your neck as he hovers over you - the makeup you’d used to hide it having rubbed off with the last manoeuvre.

Suga catches you checking your phone more often, smiling softly to yourself.

Where Daichi used to be able to coax you into staying back for a drink, you were quick to finish up and head home, claiming to be tired and hungry. You don’t take him up on his offer for dinner either.

But the final nail in the coffin came in the form of a drawing.

“Dai, who’s that?”

Suga’s crouched by his desk, gazing oddly at the picture your nephew had drawn. The task was simple - draw your family. Daisuke had dutifully done just that; him, his mom, you, and-

“Auntie’s new boyfriend.”

Suga’s eyes snap to yours and you curse your heart for skipping a beat. “I didn’t know you were dating anybody.”

***

Daichi’s fingers tap restlessly on the leather of the steering wheel.

He was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago but when the call came in, he didn’t really have a choice but to answer it. She’d asked specifically for him after all, and even if she hadn’t, the Sergeant would have tossed the case his way regardless.

Mokoto knew how he felt about you.

Spending an hour and a half sitting in your living room while your sister sobbed wasn’t exactly how he’d planned on spending his afternoon, but he supposed it came with the territory. He knows how to do his job properly, though. Listening, asking the right questions, offering sympathy without promising results - it’s nothing he hasn’t had to do before.

“Please Daichi, she- she’s all we have left, I… I can’t-”

It didn’t mean he wasn’t aching to leave with every second that passed.

Of course, it wasn’t a complete waste of time. Through her tears, your sister did manage to give up the name of the guy you were fucking.

A name he certainly recognised from way back in high school. He knows he’s going to enjoy pursuing that particular lead, but as he pulls his car into the driveway and switches the motor off, Daichi shoves the thought aside.

He has other, far more pressing matters to deal with.

His heart thrums like hummingbird’s as he walks up the pathway, nodding politely at his elderly neighbour as he passes.

The sight that greets him inside his living room makes the wait worthwhile.

You, on your knees, stripped down to your pretty, lace underwear, arms cuffed behind your back and your plush lips wrapped around his best friend’s cock.

With his long fingers carefully carding through your hair, Suga coos at you between breathless moans, praising you for being such a good girl for him with every roll of his hips. You’re shaking, trembling as silvery tears spill down your cheeks and when he drops his wallet, phone and keys on the bench and kicks off his shoes, your wide, pleading eyes turn to greet him.

Daichi’s cock stirs in his pants, a rush of excitement and something much, much darker and more primal flooding his veins.

Noticing that he no longer has your full attention, Suga’s eyes follow yours. “You’re late,” he says with a lazy smirk.

Loosening his tie, Daichi huffs out a laugh, “And I see you didn’t bother waiting.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere Daichi #yandere Suga #yandere Daichi Sawamura #yandere Daichi x reader #yandere suga x reader #yandere sugawara #yandere sugawara koushi x reader #yandere Daichi Sawamura x reader #my writing #yandere fic #tw non con #tw abuse of power #tw minor violence #tw manipulation

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