#none of this is serious if you couldn’t tell

[kimberly-spirits13]

Break Ups and Make Ups

Jason Todd x reader

Synopsis: Jason breaks up with you to keep you safe only to get saved by you a few weeks later.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Jason being angsty

Word Count: 3233

Jason couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in a bed that felt too large and dreamed of futures he lost from his grasp. Every night was the same. He’d spend his energy patrolling to forget you, drag himself through his apartment, and then come to the realization that he was entirely alone the second the AC hit in the face. What made him even angrier was that it wasn’t even your fault, not entirely at least. To Jason, you were the epitome of perfection and had done nothing wrong. You were meant to be protected at all costs and Jason was sure that he could never protect you when you were with him. Every body he saw, every victim of Gotham he encountered had your face. Maybe it was a fragment of his delusion that caused him to worry so intensely, but to him, it came out of a place of real possibility. 

That’s why he broke it off with you when things started getting serious. All he really remembers from that day was you screaming something he doesn’t remember (or tries to forget) at him and telling him to leave. It was the worst day of his life, and he would have died a thousand times over again to avoid it ever happening. He’d never seen you so upset before and hated that it was because of him. Every night, this was what he saw before he fell asleep, and once sleep had finally taken over there was no rest from his regret. He’d dream of all the futures you could have had together, bringing newborns home from the hospital, you, walking down the aisle with tears flowing from everyone’s eyes, and the endless possibilities of bliss that he threw away that night. 

                  That was what was keeping Jason up last night. He was exhausted, struggling to stay awake as the cycle of regret repeated every time he shut his eyes. 

                  “You alright Jaybird?” Dick asked, standing in the mirror adjusting his tie.

                  “Fine.” Jason gruffed in response.

                  Jason was sitting in one of the many armchairs in the manor staring at the window, brooding. Usually, he’d hear your laughter with the girls from down the hallway, joking about whatever appealed to them at the time. Tonight was different and all he heard were the voices of his sisters, sometimes bringing you up, lamenting the loss of your presence. 

                  “Do you think she’ll show up eventually?” Steph asked, “I mean she kind of has to for press.”

                  “I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t” Jason heard Barbra reply, causing him to cringe.

                  He was in the wrong for breaking it off with you. Jason saw that now, regretting the pride that came in with thinking it was only up to him to keep you safe, or that you couldn’t play some part in it. To your credit, you’d survived Gotham for so many years before meeting him, even as a socialite. Why did he think it would be any different? 

                  “You know, it would be worth just talking to her.” Dick said, “If that’s what you’re brooding over. I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re brooding over.” Dick said.

                  “It’s none of your business.” 

                  “Yea, not really, but you’re acting like you’ve been tossing up the idea of swan diving off Gotham Bridge.” Dick chided, “So maybe you should talk to her. Sounds like she didn’t want to break up anyways, so you’d probably have a chance.”

                  “She’d kill me.” Jason replied coldly.

                  Dick didn’t say anything in response, but Jason knew what he was thinking, “Yeah, and right now, you’d deserve it.” 

                  When the car pulled up to the carpet at the front of the gala, it was all Jason could do to not sink and melt into the floor. There would be plenty of questions from reporters asking where you were. It had been three weeks since he dumped you and the internet had been stirring. 

                  “Just walk past them.” Dick said, “And don’t beat anyone”

                  “No promises.” Jason answered, stepping out of the car, and giving his hand to Cassandra to help her out.

                  Cass nodded at him giving him enough signal of, “I’ll walk with you.” 

                  Reporters and fans shouted at the family. Jason wished that anyone else was the center of attention, but instead all the questions were centered around his relationship with you. 

                  “Where’s Y/N?” 

                  “Are you and Y/N still dating?”

                  “Why haven’t we seen you together?”                   Bruce managed to shove in front of Vikki Vale to protect Jason from her invasive questions and everyone else made their way inside. The lights of the flashing cameras faded through the crowd inside the gala. Jason felt like all eyes were on him. It was one of the first times that he felt like hiding in a corner, wrapped up in a ball at one of these events. Women with hair overdone and plunging V-neck dresses approached him, assuming that he was no longer off the table. It’s not like they cared when we still dating you whether it was appropriate to hit on him. 

                  If you were here, you two would be making fun of everyone here acting like they were on top of the world instead of the true trash of Gotham, but you weren’t, and now he was awkwardly standing next to Dick ignoring the conversation he was engaged in. Jason was pretty sure they were talking about something related to Wayne Enterprises, but he focused on the bitter cold at his side where you were meant to be on his arm. You’d be making some comment about an increase in recent sales for some company WE were working with, and he’d be staring at you wondering how he got so lucky. Now he stares at the floor wondering how he got so stupid.

                  “Dude, you look like a dog that just got its favorite toy taken.” Dick said once the person he was talking to left.

                  Jason left out a gruff in response. He didn’t have a response to that. Instead, Jason was counting down the minutes until he could leave and go crash in his apartment, though, he wasn’t sure that would be any better. Twirling a toothpick from some fancy snack he just endured, he thought about what he’d do if he tried to make it up with you.

                  “Seriously, go home, take a shower, and call her.” Dick urged, “We all know she liked you; you’re just going to have to explain a few things.”

                  “She probably hates me.” Jason answered, running his hand across his face, “I can’t blame her though.”

                  “Maybe she hates you, but maybe she’s just waiting for you to get your head out of your butt.”

                  Before Jason could respond to that, he heard glass shattering in the building and gun shots echoing. He looked towards Bruce, trying to gage whether they would spring into action. Bruce was busy ushering guests out of the building and not paying too much attention to where everyone else was. Dick and Jason ducked for cover, trying to see where the shots were being fired from. As they scanned the room, they saw a dark gas creeping towards the table where they were situated and there was nowhere to run.

                  “Tim’s still on the mission with his team.” Dick said

                  “Can’t blow our cover.” Jason responded, “Isn’t there that new vigilante running around town that Bruce has been trying to pretend he isn’t working with?”

                  “And you think that will help?” Dick snorted,

                  “You’re right. We’re screwed.” 

                  You were currently speeding through the streets of Gotham, riding at full speed towards the hotel where the gala was tonight. Bruce had asked you to avoid it since all the others were on a mission or at the gala. It was a precaution he had in place just in case something happened. You were still bitter about what happened with Jason. He was an idiot. Jason thought you had no idea of his persona as Red Hood. He had no idea that you were the recent vigilante in Gotham, Batman took in for your skills. Here you thought Jason would be a better detective. 

                  Flying towards the police lights, you pulled your bike near Gordon’s patrol car and jumped off, helmet in hand. 

                  “What do you have?” You asked.

                  “We’re waiting for Batman.” Gordon replied, “Hostages have been released other than the Waynes.”                   “Batman’s not coming.” You countered, “He’s on a mission with the League.”

                  “He never told me about that.” 

                  “You think he’d tell you about a classified mission with the League?” You lied, “I’m all you have, so get over it.” 

                  “You really are with the Bat.” Gordon sighed, “Bane sent his men to capture the Waynes and is demanding a ransom of $1 billion.”

                  “He does realize that most of that is kept in separate investments, right?” You mumbled.

                  “Apparently he doesn’t” “He’s got them in an east river warehouse and will begin executions at 12am. First one to go is Jason Todd.” 

                  You looked at the time blaring on his phone, beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead, “Two hours.” 

                  “Surely he doesn’t think we could retrieve $1 billion in two hours.” Gordon responded.

                  “I don’t care what he thinks as long as you convince him that the money is coming.” You said, “I’ll recover the Waynes.” “Keep him ignorant, it’s our best option.” 

                  The drive felt like hours even though it was thirty minutes through the traffic. All the while you were thinking about what Gordon said, “First to go is Jason Todd.” You were still upset with him, but that didn’t negate the fac that you loved him. Jason breaking it off with you felt like someone tore your soul out of you. You were pretty sure once you explained everything to him, he’d understand, but you didn’t have the energy to track him down and convince him to listen to you. Serving around a slower driver, you sped onto the side road that led straight into the warehouses. Bane has a usual point of operation here that you were sure he was staking out in. He wasn’t the most intelligent guy on the block, but it was too risky for the special ops team to come flying into the building with such a threat. 

                  You haphazardly parked your bike and sprinted towards the warehouse you knew they’d be in. The comm in your ear began buzzing and you clicked the button to turn on the feed. 

                  “He’s about to start executing.” Gordon said.

                  “What? There’s still an hour and a half left?” You whisper yelled, “Did your men screw it up?” 

                  “Haven’t found out yet, Bane has demanded that the time be dropped.” “Are you in there?”

                  “Almost, how much time do I have?” 

                  “Fifteen minutes.” Gordon replied. 

                  “When I knock him out, I expect that you put him in the most uncomfortable cell in Black Gate.” 

                  “Without a second thought.” Gordon said, confidence lacing his voice.

                  There were 10 guards outside the warehouse heavily armed. Bane must have been juiced up which meant he was more confident in not needing security, just someone to collect the money and bring it inside. If you were on your own, you’d probably kill them all and let GCPD handle it, but you were in Batman’s turf and had to respect his bounds. Instead, you opted to tranquilize them and leave the clean-up to GCPD to save time.

                  “I’ve got 10 unconscious out front, make sure they’re in cars before they wake up.” You said, “Don’t come in with sirens and lights on.” “I’m going in”

                  “Understood.” Gordon responded quickly. 

                  Going to the roof, you looked a window down to see Bane dragging Jason with a bag over his head, to the front of a room where a camera was. There was one other man with a mask on holding a rifle pointed to where Jason was now kneeling. He ripped the bag off Jason’s head to show reveal him with a busted lip and a fresh bruise appearing on his jaw. He must have said something that rubbed one of the recruits the wrong way. Your heart began to race as you watched in horror. With your boot, you kicked the glass once and watched as the shards fell to the ground. From below, Jason heard the crashing of the glass and didn’t look up in case it was falling on him. A loud pop echoed through the building and the sound of metal hitting the floor sounded in his ears. Another shot was fired and after a few seconds, the man standing behind him stumbled backwards and finally fell. 

                  With the immediate threat to Jason neutralized, you jumped down, landing on Bane’s shoulders. 

                  “You picked the wrong day Bane. I’m not in the mood” you said.

                  “I’ll kill you all!” He screamed, reaching his arms around his back, trying to grab you off him. 

                  “Is that the most intelligent thing you can think of right now, big guy?” You laughed.    

                  Reaching into your utility belt, you pulled out a large knife and positioned to cut into the tubes that pumped his venom. Before you could do that, Bane reached around and grabbed your leg. With a grunt you were thrown to the ground but recovered quickly. Jumping back up, you ran towards him, launching yourself in the air to kick his jaw. A tooth flew past you and blood began to run out of his mouth. These were the moments you were grateful for steel-toed boots. Bane stumbled for a moment before regaining his strength and barreling towards you. You ran back from him, giving yourself space and leading him to a place where you could get back on top of him. He started reaching his arms back again causing you to glide your knife over his arm. Blood was drawn again, and he recoiled in pain. Taking this opportunity, you ran the knife through the pipes, venom spewing out everywhere. He fell back right as you flung yourself off him and out of his reach. Quickly, his muscles started constricting and falling back into their regular form. It was a disgusting sight to and you found yourself grimacing at the sight. 

                  In the commotion of it all, you weren’t aware that the camera had knocked over. Bruce and Dick were still sitting patiently, waiting for you to uncuff them. 

                  “Target neutralized, I’ll bring out the Waynes and Bane.” You said into the comm.

                  “Got it, ETA five minutes.” Gordon answered 

                  You grabbed the keys that were hanging on the wall next to where Bane had been standing and began to uncuff Bruce and Dick. 

                  “You always manage to get yourself into trouble, don’t you?” You asked, a smirk evident in your voice despite your mask.

                  “You know it.” Dick said.

                  “Thanks for the rescue.” Bruce stood up as you helped Dick off the floor, “We can drag Bane out. It seems you’ve got some explaining to do.” 

                  Jason was sitting and staring at the wall, contemplating his life. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but you could bet it was something about being glad he broke it off with you after something like this happening. You watched for a minute as Bruce and Dick dragged Bane out of the room, giving you two a moment.

                  “Jason.” You said, trying to get him to turn around.

                  “You gonna uncuff me?” He asked.

                  “I was getting there.” You knelt behind him and unlocked the cuff.

                  The clank of metal quietly rang out. An awkward silence fell, and you weren’t sure what to do so instead you started assessing injuries. You moved to kneel in front of him and examined his lip and the bruise that was getting darker by the second.

                  “Anything feel broken?” you asked.

                  “No.” He moved away from your touch, something that hurt your heart, “Who even are you? Batman’s new recruit?” 

                  “Jason- do you?” You huffed and began to pull off your mask, “You’re an idiot.” 

                  Once you had your mask off, he started at you, lost for words. So many emotions ran through his eyes, confusion and then realization being the two most prominent ones.

                  “Y/N?” He asked bewildered, “How did you keep this from me?”

                  “I figured you knew, Red Hood.” You said, tucking your mask under your arm.

                  “You knew about that?” 

                  “You’re not very inconspicuous about it, Jason.” You laughed, “I mean every time patrol ended, Red Hood would head in the direction of your apartment and then you’d drop by thirty minutes later after taken a shower and typically with some sort of wound dressing. Plus, it helps that I went to the cave a few times.”                   “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, hurt lingering in his voice.

                  “I realized you probably didn’t know anything about it and planned to talk to you about it but you kind of dumped me before I got the chance.” Your smile faded and was instead replaced with a stoic look. Jason knew you were upset, “What do you think I was yelling at you for?” 

                  “I thought you were just yelling because you were mad.” He answered, shame now replacing his look of hurt.

                  “Yeah, I’m pissed with you. I feel like you thought I can’t handle myself, even if you didn’t mean to come across that way. I was trying to get you to stop so we could talk about it. You were bound to get in and get out.” Tears began swelling in your eyes and you quickly wiped them away. 

                  “Y/N I’m so sorry.” He said.

                  “Yea, so am I.” Your head hung low for a second before you picked yourself back up, not wanting to break down in front of Jason right now.

                  “No, it’s not your fault.” Jason grabbed your hands, “This has been the worst few weeks of my entire life. I can’t live without you. Day and night, you’re the only thing I think of. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything right now. I’d rather die a thousand times over than not have you.” 

                  At this point you started crying and Jason grabbed you, pulling you into his chest. You cried into his suit that was already ruined by the dirt and tears from tonight. He was crying to, no matter how much he didn’t want to be.

                  “I’m so, so sorry Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just thought this was best for you. I didn’t want you ending up hurt or dead or- I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”                   “Jason” You laughed through tears, “I’m a Gotham CEO, I was already unsafe by myself.” 

                  “I didn’t think about that.” He said, making you laugh more. 

                  “Do you think you’d have me back?” Jason asked, a now solemn look coming across his face.

                  “Yes, absolutely.” 

                  Jason pulled you into a kiss that felt like it lasted forever and once it was over, he rested his head in the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply.

                  “I missed you so much.” He said. 

                  “I did too.” 

                  Jason’s family was going to be ecstatic about this. They probably weren’t going to let him live down you realizing he was Red Hood before he realized you were a vigilante.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.

Does that even make any sense?😭

Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit

Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope

TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy

Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌

Dear (Y/N),

I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.

Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.

I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.

I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.

I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.

I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.

I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.

I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.

I want to go every where you go.

I want to slow dance with you.

I want to head bang with you.

I want to paint with you.

I want to sing to you.

I want to hold you.

I want you.

I love you.

I’m in love with you.

And I’m sorry.

Sincerely,

Sally <3

Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.

Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.

~next morning~

‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.

You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.

Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“

You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.

“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.

“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.

As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.

“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.

“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.

“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.

And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol

[thosefuzzywordfeelings]

Can I make a request?

Eddie munson with 67 and/or 68?

If not, that's totally fine. But either way, Thank you!

whewwww i love those prompts so much 😮‍💨 thank you for the rq! ✨

CW; mention of slight violence from eddie towards someone else (protective king), spanking, slight? choking 😌✨

“Eddie, I’m serious. Like, deadass serious right now.”

“I couldn’t hurt you love. Not that far. Little smack on this pretty ass is fine but that?” Eddie sighed, as you straddled his waist and looked down at him. He was smiling up at you softly, curls fanned out on the pillow as his hands stroked up and down your thighs.

Things could get pretty rough between the two of you, asscheeks often red if your face was smushed into the mattress, but he was always so…sweet. Little praises, ‘you’re doing so well for me sweetheart’ and ‘look so pretty when you take it like this’. But you’d seen him the night before outside the bar when the barman got a little handsy with you, Eddie’s hands scrunched up in the barman’s jacket as he shoved him up against the wall, getting in his face and threatening him with a ‘if you ever lay a fingertip on her, or your eyeballs roll in her direction, i will fucking ruin you.’

Since then your body had been on fire, his dark eyes somehow darker etched in your mind. And now this, after a morning spent napping and drinking painful amounts of coffee to wash away the liquor of yesterday, you were atop your boyfriend, needy.

“Baby…” You whined quietly, leaning down to kiss along his jaw and down his neck. His hands slid up over your back, resting there before travelling down to the swell of your ass and pulling it down against him.

“Yes love?” Eddie spoke back, his voice rough from smoking but his tone gentle and sweet. As always.

Reaching a hand down between the two of you, you’d cup his growing length through his pyjama pants, squeezing him hardly.

“Fuck - what’re you playing at? Tryna rile me up?” Eddie growled softly, his hand coming to your wrist but you quickly pinned it up above his head with your free hand, bringing your face up to hover above his.

“I want you.”

“You can have me.”

“But I want you…rough, Eddie. I want you to make me cry. I want you to-“ You brought your lips to his as they suddenly hung open in shock at your quick change of demeanour, “fucking ruin me.”

His big doe eyes looked up at yours, searching for any jest or hesitation, and when he found none - only sincerity and pure unadulterated lust in your irises - his eyes darkened. Just as they did the night before. His hand snaked up your chest, settling around your throat as he smiled sweetly before pushing you back ferociously against the mattress; a gasp leaving your lungs as you focused on the way he knelt in between your legs.

“Last night….” Eddie spoke, a new tone to his voice, “turned you on, didn’t it sweetheart?” His hands ran along your thighs again, squeezing them tighter than usual as he spread them open further to settle on top of his own. You nodded cutely, your own eyes widening as the throbbing between your legs grew.

“Say it again. Tell me how it made you feel.” Eddie whispered, pulling your hips so your ass rested in front of his knees before leaning down to hover above you this time.

“You - you looked so angry, Eddie, so protective, just made me - want you like that.” You’d stutter as his hands travelled across your body, fingertips digging in harder than before.

“Yeah. Fucking asshole, thinks he can lay his hands on you, just because you’re gorgeous and sexy and beautiful and wonderful-“ Eddie started his sentence angry but pressed kisses to your lips with all the praises that followed.

You giggled against his lips before pulling away, noticing he was smirking down at you.

“You’re rutting against me like a feral little puppy do you know that?” He taunted lowly, looking down at where you were subconsciously bucking your hips up in an attempt to feel him. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

“Please-“ You begged softly, hands pulling his wrists away from your body and down towards your inner thighs. Thinking you were in control for a moment, you let out a slight giggle but it was quickly squashed with a gasp and a loud mewl as he brought his hand down to smack your clothed core.

“You want me to ruin you and you can’t even wait five minutes? Oh sweetheart…you’re gonna need to be more patient than that.” He condescended, tilting his head with a smirk as he watched you fall down the rabbit hole of submission.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

After The Fall (Hannibal/Will)

Description: What would happen if Y/N was there doing the fall?

Word Count: 1,515k

Y/N gasped as Will pushed her out of the hug, all three were sharing and pushed himself and Hannibal off the cliff. She fell to the ground with a groan. She got up and yelled their names as she ran to the cliff. Except, she didn’t see them. She didn’t see any bodies, didn’t hear any noise besides waves of the water. Tears welled up in her eyes, thinking the worst.

Will had gotten hurt pretty bad during the fight. She looked down at the wounds she had and thought she was in no better place. She turned to look at the body of the red dragon. The memory that happened 5 minutes ago played in her head. They killed him. She, unlike Will and Hannibal, had never killed anyone. Not even as self defensive. Though she didn’t feel bad for what she did, how could she? This man, this thing had tried to kill her husband and their boyfriend. The Red Dragon, what a joke, she thought. She couldn’t believe what Will just did, that wasn’t part of the plan. Though to her, none of this was.

“Are you sure?” She asked Will as they drove to the prison that Hannibal was in. He shook his head and chuckled. “No, I’m not sure.” He said and looked over at her. “I’m not either.” She looked down at her hands. “I love him. We both do.” She said, looking over at him. “But this is our way out. Out of Jack and all that’s come with it.” He gave her a small smile. “Yeah, that would be nice.” He said, she looked at him. “I’m serious Will. Maybe we shouldn’t go.” She said. “We’ve thought long and hard about this, Y/N. We love him and if all goes well. Years from now we can be a happy family.” He said and placed his hand over her stomach that held their 2 month old baby.

Though they’ve been married for years, she just recently got pregnant. The baby was Will’s given the fact that Hannibal has been in prison the last 3 years. “I don’t know. I just have an odd feeling about this.” “Y/N, I can’t promise you that everything will go right in the end. But you will be safe, no matter what.” He promised. Luckily, the wounds were on her arms and not near the baby. Hanni and Will made sure of that. She felt sick and it wasn’t because of her pregnancy. Why would Will do that? What was his goal? He lied to her, except he really didn’t. She was okay, physically but mentally she was not. Did they drown?

A million questions ran through her head, none that she had a reasonable answer to. She walked into the house and sighed. Anywhere she looked, she thought of them and what the hell happened. She didn’t have her phone on her or anything. She walked out of the house and to the cop car. She remembers them stealing it and thought it wouldn’t be best to drive it. Hannibal was still a wanted man. She began walking away from the house, praying that nobody would see her. She began the walk down the road away from the house. Tears streamed down her face as she came to the worst conclusion. Will and Hannibal were dead. She didn’t think that Will survived that given the wounds he had. Hannibal, maybe but even then.

It would be months later that she was back at her and Will’s house with the many dogs they collected over the years. She was now 7 months pregnant and she lived alone. Occasionally, Alana would come visit. Y/N tried her best to forget the events that happened 5 months ago but it was hard. She didn’t sleep in the bed anymore. She just couldn’t, not without Will. She barely went in there. The dogs missed Will as well, she could tell. When she opened the bedroom door the cold air hit her. She hadn’t been here in months. The bed was still made as they left it that very morning before the fall. Pictures of them littered the bedroom which made her tear up. She walked up to one of the pictures and sighed. Will was such a happier man before all this happened. Hannibal, Jack, The FBI. She missed that life.

But it was no longer and hadn’t been in a long time. She walked over to Will’s closet. She opened it and saw his clothes. She looked through them before grabbing a shirt. She brought it up to her face and sniffed it. It smelled like him, and god did she miss that smell. She sat on the bed and held it up to her face. The scent of him entering her nose. She started sobbing into the shirt, not being able to control herself. She did this for the next 2 minutes before she heard a knock at the door. She looked up from the shirt and got off the bed. She sat the shirt on the bed and wiped the tears from her face. She tried to make it look like she hadn’t been crying.

She walked to the door as the dogs went crazy. She sighed and opened the door. Her eyes widened and her heart stopped. Will and Hannibal. They gave her small smiles but she couldn’t move. She didn’t believe what she was seeing. They looked the same, I mean it had only been 5 months but they looked good. When it finally clicked in her head that they were there and real she started sobbing. Will went in and hugged her. She sobbed on his chest as Hannibal watched the two with a smile. “You were dead.” She sobbed. Will shook his head, “No, I wasn’t. We survived.” She pulled away and looked up at him. He looked down at her with awe in his eyes. She reached up to grab his face but ended up slapping him.

“Why did you do that?” She asked, hurt lacing her voice. “Why didn’t you contact me?” She sobbed. Hannibal and Will felt guilt lace through them. “We didn’t want the police finding us.” Will said. “Why’d you throw yourselves off a fucking cliff?” He sighed and shrugged. “I told you that I couldn’t promise that everything would work out but I did say that you would be okay and you are.” He said. “No I’m not. What were you gonna leave me to raise our baby alone?” She yelled. He shook his head, “No, of course not we planned this out. I’ll be here for our baby and you.” “So will I.” Hannibal said. She looked over at the man.

She missed him as well but wanted to punch him and scream at him. A part of her blames him for what has happened. “You guys planned this without me?” She asked. “We didn’t want the police to know anything. It was for the best.” Hannibal told her. She scoffed and walked in the house. The two men look at each other and follow her. Will greeted the dogs and let them tackle him to the ground. Y/N walked back into the living room and watched them play with the dogs. She felt relief knowing that they were safe but she was still so mad at them.

Will stood up from the dogs and noticed that she wasn’t wearing her ring. “Where’s your ring?” He asked her. “It’s in the bedroom. I thought you were dead so I put it in there with everything else.” “Everything else?” “The memories Will. The day that you decided to fall off a fucking cliff and leave me.” She yelled. He understood her anger as did Hannibal. “I’m sorry baby.” She shook her head. “Yeah I bet.” “I’m here. We are here and will be spending the rest of our lives making it up to you.” He said. Hannibal agreed with him.

She sighed and looked at them. No matter how mad she was, she still loved them with all her heart. “Well what are you waiting for? Get over here so we can hug and this time don’t push me.” She warns Will, making him laugh. They walked over to her and hugged her. She sighed and drowned in their scent. After what felt like seconds but was minutes, they pulled away. They looked down at her stomach that was bigger than it was before.

“It’s a girl.” She told them. Will smiled with tears in his eyes. Hannibal kissed the man’s head as they looked at the woman. “Wow.” Will whispered. Y/N couldn’t help herself and she kissed him. He immediately kissed back and they fell into the kiss. It felt good to be kissing him again. She never thought she’d get the chance. They pulled away when they needed air. She looked at Hannibal and did the same. He smiled into the kiss and pulled her closer. They pulled away and she sighed, happily. Her two boys were back and better than ever.

[katerina-marie]

Bathtub Confession (Eres Tú)

Sukuna x Reader

Part 3 to this

The one where you learn that certain confessions don't always have to be romantic, but others certainly do.

Word Count: 5.7k

Notes: Part 3 of my Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au. Takes place directly after part two. Song of inspiration: Eres Tú by Carla Morrison

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, found family vibes, some angst, fluff, crack, humor, out of character Sukuna (he's so fluffy), suggestive, maybe lightly explicit, tho no sex actually occurs just yet (sorry), so please avoid accordingly.

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“Should I change my name?”

A beat of silence. A drop of water.

“No.”

“Should I get a wig?”

Another beat of silence. A clink of glass on tile.

“No.” 

“Should I flee the country?”

A minuscule half second of silence.

“Not if you’re going to quit paying me,” Toji grumbled. 

His response made the frown on your face dip down further on your lips, and you rolled your head against the back of your porcelain tub to stare at the ceiling.

“Is that all you see me as?” you whined, “A paycheck?”

“You want me to lie?” 

“That’s it, I’m going to drown myself.” 

That gets a long, heavy sigh from your bodyguard and you can hear him readjust himself on the chaise lounge seated in the middle of your expansive bathroom before he carries on.

“First off,” he grunts, “no you’re not. That would require me to pull your sad self naked from the tub, and we both know we don’t want that. Second…you know you’re not just a paycheck.” Toji goes quiet for a moment. “I’d like to think that we’ve become a sort of family over the last couple years, you, me, and Nanami. Shoot, even Megs too when he’s around.” 

His soft confession brings a smile to your face, and you turn your head to the right to look in his direction from behind a large mahogany privacy screen. It stands tall, wrapping just barely around the ends of your tub where your feet and head lay, keeping you securely tucked away from any prying eyes. It found its way there long ago, because this wasn’t the first time that Toji had played therapist from his dedicated chaise while you lounged in a hot bath and the two of you shared a bottle of wine. 

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, “I’m grateful you’re my friend…and my family.” 

“Don’t worry about it, I know you are. But don’t go on getting too upset or sentimental just because you’ve had a rough day. Things haven’t been that bad,” Toji said, and you groaned at the reminder.

After finally arriving home safely—no thanks to you—Toji immediately went into damage control mode and spent the afternoon fielding phone calls and text messages, though nothing too serious had been blown your way yet. 

You had received a none-too-pleased email from the producer of the movie you and Satoru were co-starring in, accusing you of sabotaging the release by not waiting to reveal your relationship with Sukuna until after the movie premiered in a few short months (as if he couldn’t tell that what happened today wasn’t by choice). Luckily, Satoru swooped in with his sweet-talking words and buttered the producer right back into promising extra money for a job well done. Though Satoru’s idea of fixing things was convincing the producer that the only premise that sold better than a classic love story was the angst of a good ol’ fashioned love triangle, and he was more than happy to play the jilted lover dead set on winning you back. You wondered what it must be like to live in such delusions. 

What really put the cherry on top of a bad day was the text you received from Sukuna shortly after arriving home. It wasn’t anything particularly worrisome, a straight to the point, “I’ll call you this evening, busy smoothing a couple things out, x,” but it had you in a fit nonetheless. After sending a quick affirmation back, you threw your phone across the couch in your living room and flung yourself onto the nearest surface to bemoan your miserable existence. Toji was not amused when that nearest surface happened to be his chest, and he only offered you five minutes of soaking his shirt with snot and tears before he drug you upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the hot water to your tub, and shoved you into the bathroom with a promise to return with wine if you quieted down for just a second. 

So here you were, an hour later, soaking under a mountain of peppermint scented bubbles while you toed at the hot water handle at the end of the tub. 

“You think if I begged hard enough Nanami would let me come stay with him for the rest of his vacation? I’m afraid I’m in need of a tropical escape,” you told Toji, already calculating in your head how quickly you could pack your bags and be on the next plane to Malaysia. 

Toji chuckled, “No, I don’t think he would, considering he refused to tell us anything more about his trip other than what country he’d be in and when he’d be back. You showing up would take seven years off his life. Add three more if he opens up the door to you sobbing like you’ve been all day. Besides, running away to another country just because you’re afraid to talk to your boyfriend is a cowardly move.” 

You ‘tsked’ at him for calling you out on poor behavior and slouched further down into the hot water in shame-filled defeat. Instead of wallowing in it further though, you popped your ankles up on the rim of the tub, tossed your arms back to hang behind your head, and clapped twice to get Toji’s attention.

“Another glass of wine, please,” you mocked in as snobby an accent as you could manage.

“What do you take me as? I’m not your damn butler,” he complained, but you could hear the quick successive cracking of his back as he stood up from the chaise and stretched. 

“Just one more and that’ll be it, I promise.” You considered what else could entice him into doing your bidding. “I’ll let you be done for the evening and take the day off tomorrow if you also bring me a plate of cheese and crackers, please.” 

Toji was silent before letting out a begrudging “fine” and shuffling out the door without another complaint. 

You marveled in the silence, nothing but the occasional lap of water as you adjusted yourself in the tub to break it. After a few minutes, however, you realized the absence of conversation was the perfect environment for your thoughts to run unhindered, and that was not something you cared to partake in at the given time. Trying to concentrate on anything else though was futile, and perhaps trying to wade through your own head for a few minutes would leave you feeling better when you chose to pointedly ignore it once your butler…ahem, Toji, returned with your snacks.

Besides falling on national television—and underneath Gojo Satoru nonetheless—you had a particularly difficult time deducing from yourself what exactly about the accidental revelation of your relationship with Sukuna caused you so much embarrassment. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be associated with him or that you always intended for the relationship to remain secret until it had reached its course; your desire was quite the opposite, actually. It was a feeling best left to baser animals and bedroom activities, but the idea of staking a claim, proving that he belonged to you in a way, was not unappealing and not something you could talk your way out of thinking, especially with the world the two of you lived in. 

If you got down to it, the real problem lay in your unfortunate habit of caring what people thought. You didn’t want Sukuna to see you as childlike, only a few years younger than him in age but miles behind in maturity. You didn’t want him to view today’s incident as a misfortunate foreshadow into the “what if’s” of your relationship. Neither did you want the world looking at the two of you and questioning how exactly something like it came to be. Where Sukuna was all sharp angles and dark colors, suave nonchalance and carrying a presence that demanded to be seen, you felt painfully opposite. You wouldn’t self-deprecate and believe that you were unworthy of standing beside him, but just cognizant of how different you felt. More like something that could be just as appreciated, but more likely to be overlooked and favored over something brighter. A “mismatched pair” is what they would call you, something that struck you so vividly that the pressure in your chest increased ten-fold. You knew he would hear it, see it, be made aware of it, and while he may not agree right away, you wondered how long it would take for the sphere of influence to get to him too. The anticipatory grief (as your actual therapist called it, usually followed by anxiety) of waiting for someone you valued so much to realize that he had better options was enough to make you consider running away from the whole thing entirely. 

And that’s how you came back to scheming your departure from the country. If you hurried, you could probably towel off, pack a bag, and slip out the back before Toji realized (you wondered if the big oaf had decided to take a nap instead of bringing you snacks for how long it’d been since you last heard him). Surely Nanami wouldn’t abandon you in your time of need if you were wailing at him over the phone in the airport of a foreign country. 

But alas, you heard your bathroom door open, effectively cutting off any means of escape.

“It’s about time, Toji. What took you so long?” He neither spoke, nor took another step. “Eh, no matter. Bring me my snacks, please.” 

Footsteps continued again and before you could chastise Toji further, a voice spoke up from right behind your privacy screen. 

“Should I be concerned with the normalcy of your bodyguard attending to you while you’re naked in the bath?” 

The shock of hearing Sukuna’s voice caused you to jolt, sending your legs into the water with an unmistakable splash and leaving you to scurry back into a sitting position from where you had slipped dangerously close to submerging your whole head underwater. The indecency of it all would kill you if this conversation that was about to happen didn’t.

“I assure you,” you started, hoping you didn’t sound as wrecked as you felt, “it is not nearly as salacious as you made it out to be.” 

Sukuna hummed. “Really? Because it sounded as if you were expecting him, and when I ran into him downstairs he told me to tell you that he would be back up to deliver wine and cheese shortly. Sounds like a romantic evening to me if I’ve ever heard one.”

You were relieved to hear a hint of amusement in your boyfriend’s voice, but horrified at what he was saying. 

“Please stop implying things that’ll make me gag.” 

Sukuna chuckled, but was quiet for a minute until, “You have five seconds to tell me to stop before I move this privacy screen so we can talk face to face.” 

You shot upwards, looking around hurriedly as you tried to scrape the remaining bubbles in the tub to strategic places in order to maintain your dignity, though you realized a moment later that it was probably unnecessary. With a second left, you brushed tendrils of your hair away from your face and wiped your thumb across the top of your lip to remove any remnants of a wine stain from your skin. In the next, Sukuna was pushing aside the privacy screen and looking down at you with a blank—but not unkind—expression. You eyed him warily as he walked up to the edge of the tub and dropped a cushion from the chaise Toji was sitting on earlier to the floor. He settled himself down onto it and then placed his elbow on the edge of the tub so he could lean in close to you. 

“Hello,” you whispered to him, settling both your arms down next to his and then resting your head against them. A small smile crossed his face.

“Hello to you too.” 

You were surprised at the lack of tension in his face, no clenched jaw or heavy brow to be seen, and as you trailed your eyes further down his torso you noticed its absence there too. His shoulders were relaxed, and his chin was cupped in the hand propped up on the tub so he could gaze at you with those unnervingly observant eyes of his. You wished he’d been wearing a t-shirt instead of the thin navy turtleneck he currently had on so you could focus your stare on the black tattoos decorating his body. Aside from being intricate, and distracting, they always gave you something to look at when meeting his eyes felt like too much. 

The tenderness of Sukuna’s knuckles meeting your temple forced you to look back up at him, only to see that he was following the path his fingers were making over your skin. They grazed over your cheekbone, feathered down the bridge of your nose, and then were skimming over your mouth, his thumb catching ever so lightly on your bottom lip. His hand didn’t linger there, and it was quick to skate over your jaw before his thumb landed under your ear and the rest of his fingers tangled in your hair while his palm cupped your neck. With a slide of his other hand up your arm and down your back to press between your shoulder blades, Sukuna brought you close enough to him that he was able to reach the rest of the way over the tub and kiss you. His lips remained pressed against yours for a second or two before he broke away, hesitated, and then leaned in to do it once more, twice, and a third time. 

You were the one that put space between the two of you, sitting back in the water and drawing your knees to your chest. You desperately needed to inhale without smelling the crispness of his aftershave or the spiced warmth of his cologne, both of which were guilty of making your head spin. 

“You��re not mad at me?” you asked, breaking the silence before he had a chance to, before you lost your nerve. You watched as his head tilted slightly to one side, his expression a touch befuddled, but full of disbelief. 

“Why would I be mad at you?” He questioned slowly, moving himself to his knees on the cushion so he could go back to resting his arms on the tub. 

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t be,” you told him, your voice a bit sharp. “I inadvertently told anyone with access to the internet that we were dating, without even talking to you about it, and then proceeded to flee the scene like a coward instead of getting back out there to present myself as confident enough to own up to my mistakes. Not to mention the fall with Satoru right before. It’s embarrassing. The whole thing made us—me—look like a giant mess!” 

Your voice cracked on the last word, and you bit down on the inside of your cheek until you tasted iron. Sukuna looked pained, and he reached a hand out to play with your fingers as they sat at the top of your knees. 

“You’re not a mess,” he said, rubbing his thumb in small circles over the middle knuckle of one of your fingers, “and I’m not embarrassed either. I never intended to keep us a secret, and I’m not trying to implicate you when I say this, but I don’t think I ever implied doing so that evening.” 

“Well, yeah,” you huffed, the twinkle in his ochre-brown eyes and the mischievous grin on his face as he hinted to the night the two of you cemented your relationship into the category of “official” making your face get warm, “we didn’t do a whole lot of talking after that point.” 

You tried to jerk your hands out from under his to cover up your cheeks, but Sukuna was unrelenting in his hold, and you gave up before continuing on, “I know you never implied that you wanted to keep our relationship hidden, but that’s been the theme of whatever we’ve had going on these last ten months. We were sneaking around from the very beginning, we lied about it to Yuji and Choso, and then let’s not forget about the whole incident of being caught by Satoru,” you pointed out to him, feeling the slightest bit smug when he looked chagrined. 

“I apologized for that,” he reminded you, his voice tone faintly defensive. You squeezed his hand in comfort. 

“You did, and I’m not upset about it.” 

You took a deep breath and cast your eyes everywhere except Sukuna, taking in the details of your bathroom as you tried to muster the courage to share your insecurities with him. He never let his attention on you deviate, and between that and the heat of the water you had been in for almost two hours, you were beginning to feel lightheaded, and everything finally came rushing out of your mouth.

“I feel like we’re mismatched! It feels like everytime someone looks at us, they’re going to wonder why, like we don’t fit well together. And I’m not saying I believe that, or that you would believe that, and I know this whole thing sounds ridiculous because it is ridiculous, but it’s hard to get outside of my own head about this when I already love you so mu—,” 

The startled look on Sukuna’s face is what clued you in to the fact you had said something you had not intended to. You snapped your mouth shut with an audible click of your teeth and used your feet to push away from him and to the otherside of the tub, wrenching your hands out of his grasp. 

If someone asked why you never liked to talk about your feelings, this was why. Why the words that came out were never as eloquent—or as sane—as the thoughts in your head was something you’d pay so much money to figure out. And Kento was about to have no choice in letting you hide out with him for the rest of his vacation because you were no longer asking, and if he was interested in keeping his job he would do so without complaint. Even so, you considered that forcibly releasing Kento from the grip of a career that was so wrought with overtime would be another mercy for the overworked sal—,

“You know what I think,” Sukuna murmured, bringing you out of your own head to focus with rapt attention on the blissfully contented expression he wore. His fingers curled around the tops of your arms as he reached out to slide you back to his side of the tub, and when you were close enough again, he pushed his nose into the plushness of your cheek to nuzzle there affectionately. You were transfixed by a small tan freckle on the edge of his eyebrow that you somehow hadn’t noticed before.

“I think this whole time you’ve been so focused on pleasing everyone around you—which isn’t necessarily unadmirable, I promise—and treading with extreme care to take into consideration my feelings about our relationship that you haven’t noticed what’s been going on…or I haven’t been doing a very satisfactory job of making it apparent.” 

He said the last part more under his breath, but didn’t give you a chance to interject with an objection before he carried on, making intently sure your eyes were on his. “From the very beginning, even when all I had of you were fleeting touches and secret meetings in questionable places, I was always bound to fall in love with you.” 

You didn’t know what to say, what to think, and trying to wrap your head around the fact that what you considered to be one of the worst days of your life was ending with unintentional confessions of love in your bathtub wasn’t helping. So you did what you could and traced a finger down one of the tattoos under his eyes, hoping he would keep talking.

“We aren’t a mismatched pair,” he insisted, his eyelids fluttering slightly at your gentle touch, “I think we compliment each other quite well, so please, don’t try to hide or run away.” He fixed you with a pointed look that told you Toji had warned him of your current status as a flight risk, and you ducked your head slightly and in a way that you hope conveyed repentance.  

“Because you must know, I will always be chasing after you.”

You wasted no time in hurrying to crush your lips against his and throw your arms around his neck, because what else was there to do when words couldn’t suffice, other than to surrender to the melding of bodies? 

Sukuna reciprocated in fervor, breaking apart from you only to stand up from his place on his knees, and reached down to cup his hands under your bottom, lifting you out of the tub and securing your thighs around his hips while his mouth found yours again.

He seemed to care not that you were dripping water on the floor and soaking the front of his clothes from where you were pressed tightly against him. He stumbled back a couple steps until the back of his knees made contact with the chaise, and the two of you fell back onto it. Sukuna adjusted you to straddle his lap, his hands clasping at your hips while your hands scrambled down his back to pull up his shirt. You ground your pelvis down against him as he dropped his head to mouth at your neck, and the rough groan that elicited from his throat had you deciding that your bed was too far away to justify taking time to separate, and that the convenience of the chaise was worth going to the trouble of having to buy Toji a new one. You had no more than let the thought flutter through your head when an obnoxiously loud knock resounded through the bathroom. 

“You two haven’t drowned yet, have you?” 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. 

Sukuna ripped his lips away from where he was sucking a mark into the space where your shoulder blended into your neck, and met your gaze with one that dared you to intervene. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, using the grip he still had on your waist to hold you in place while he rolled his hips up into yours, and you prayed that the moan you let out wasn’t as loud as it sounded. Even if it was, you hoped Toji would get the hint and make himself scarce.

“Look, I get it,” your bodyguard remarked, sounding both amused and vaguely uncomfortable, “but it’s kinda, maybe important.” 

With both the mood dashed and your anxiety spiked again, you patted Sukuna on the shoulder in a bid to get him to let you slide off his lap. He rolled his eyes, exasperation—and lustful desperation—painted clearly on his face, but he helped you down without giving you any grief and grabbed a black fluffy robe from where it was draped over your privacy screen. He held it out so you could thread your arms through it, and then he proceeded to tie the belt securely around your waist. 

“Come in, Toji,” you called, moving to sit on the chaise while Sukuna came to stand at your back.

Your bodyguard waited a moment before opening the door, peeking his head around first and then sauntering in with his normal arrogance to lean against your bathroom counter just a couple feet in front of you.

“Glad to see that nobody’s drowned. There’s only one of you I’d be willing to do mouth-to-mouth on,” Toji joked, clearly proud of what he had come up with. You felt Sukuna’s hands come to rest on the tops of your shoulders, his fingertips digging into the muscles lightly. They relaxed when you bought one of your hands up to twine your fingers with his. 

“So, to what do we owe the interruption?” you asked. The amusement on Toji’s face vanished, and in its place came weariness. 

“I just got off the phone with Nanami, and—,” 

“You called him?!” You yelped, springing up from your seat, “I begged you not to!”

“Whoa, Whoa,” Toji cautioned, raising his hands up in a surrender, “easy with the accusations. He called me. He knew.” And before you could open your mouth to ask how, Toji’s expression darkened and his eyes flicked up over you to glare at Sukuna. “Uraume called him.” 

You whirled around to look at Sukuna, who—thankfully—seemed just as surprised by the news as you did. 

“I didn’t ask them to do that,” he assured you, then turned to Toji, “did Nanami say what they wanted?” 

“Just to talk about the whole situation, more or less. Nanami said they only talked for about ten minutes, but they’re planning to discuss things more when he comes back in five or six days.” Your bodyguard sighed and crossed his legs as he leaned back further against your counter. “He was nearly ready to hop on the first plane home, but I managed to convince him to finish his vacation. Told him it’d damn near break your heart if he came back early.” 

You plopped back down on the chaise, bone tired and completely ready for this whole day to be over. 

“Thank you, Toji. I’m sorry for jumping down your throat like that.” 

“Don’t sweat it, Princess,” he said, pulling a vaguely familiar set of keys out from his pocket and pushing himself off the counter to walk towards the door. “You two going to be okay if I head out? I have some errands to run and then I’ll probably crash at Megumi’s tonight instead of the staff quarters.” 

You nodded at him, sending him off with a wave before shifting to look back at Sukuna. 

“Stay with me?” you pleaded. He answered with a kiss to your hair, and then offered his arm so you could stand from the chaise. He followed after you into your bedroom, and the faint flutter of clothing made you glance back over your shoulder. Your heart began to race at the sight of his bare chest, tattoos displayed in full glory. You must have made some kind of noise because he looked up at you from where he was draping his shirt over the back of a lounging chair in the corner of your room.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said sheepishly, “my clothes are wet.” 

You shook your head, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched the muscles in his back flex as he bent down to push his jeans to the floor, leaving him in simple grey underwear. There must have been something written all over your face as he began to walk towards you, for he was reaching out to pull you into him as soon as he got close enough.

“I’m tired, Sukuna,” you warned as he pressed your cheek to his chest, though you wondered if you could muster up the energy to continue where the two of you had left off in the bathroom. Surely he would make it worth your while. 

“I know,” he told you, voice light and good-natured, and he tightened his arms around you briefly before stepping back and nodding in the direction of your bed, “why don’t you go get comfortable. Toji left your snacks on your dresser. Want to finish them off before bed?” 

With a grateful nod, you turned to leap onto your bed, sitting down in the middle and wiggling with excitement as Sukuna came to join you. He sat the tray of food and wine in between the two of you and crossed his legs underneath himself before picking up a piece of cheese and offering it to you. You smiled in thanks and began to nibble on it while he surveyed his options. 

“Mhm,” you started, an errant thought popping into your head, “I’m assuming since Uraume knows that Yuji and Choso know now as well?” Sukuna raised his head slowly from where he had been studying the various snacks, and the hint of guilt on his face wasn’t confidence inspiring. 

“They do,” he drew out, observing you carefully, “they were both watching the interview with me.” 

You groaned as white-hot embarrassment flooded your body, and you fell back against your pillows, grabbing one to shove over your face to muffle the bitter laughter you couldn’t control. “What do they think?” 

“It’s nothing you should be worrying about,” Sukuna said, suddenly sitting by your head and lifting the pillow off your face to set it above your head, “you know they adore you. Choso was his normal, level-headed self. He’s happy for us. Yuji was just as ecstatic once he got his laughter under control, if a bit disappointed that we hadn’t told him.” Your boyfriend paused, his face darkening suddenly, and you watched with interest as a muscle feathered in his jaw. 

“What?” you asked, pushing yourself back into a sitting position and poking him in the arm to urge him to explain. He shook his head, clearly annoyed.

“You know what that little shit said immediately after? He thought that you and Gojo had been secretly dating and were waiting till after your movie was over to say anything.” 

Obnoxious laughter erupted from you, and you hurried to slap your hands over your mouth to try to conceal it as Sukuna’s face fell. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you rasped out in between giggles, unable to stop it as you watched Sukuna sit back against your pillows with a huff and a crossing of his arms. 

“The little idiot is just dense. And delusional. Anyone could see that you and the q-tip don’t have any real chemistry.” He sounded an awful lot like he was trying to convince himself of the truthfulness of his own statement. You wondered, affectionately, at which brother was a touch deluded. You were a fine actor, thank you very much. And you were about to open your mouth and say so when something ‘plinked’ off the window next to your bed. 

Strange. Your bedroom was on the second floor. 

Sukuna jerked his head up, all traces of humor forgotten, and the two of you listened for the noise again. 

Plink. 

“What the hell,” he muttered, pushing off the bed so he could go inspect the noise, “stay right there.” 

You appreciated the concern in his voice as he began to lift the window pane open, and he had just begun to stick his head out to look around when something small smacked him right between the eyes, sending him butt-first to the floor. 

“Sukuna!” you gasped, rushing over to kneel by his side and lift his hand from where he had it pressed to his forehead. You didn’t get a chance to fawn over him any further before he was up on his feet and striding to your bedroom door. 

“Be right back,” he growled, throwing the door open and cursing all the way down the stairs. 

You heard something land next to you on the floor, utterly perplexed when it turned out to be a rock from your flower beds. You got up and tiptoed over to the window, just barely lifting your head over the pane as to avoid becoming another victim of a flying projectile, then shot to your feet when you caught sight of a familiar white-haired costar outside beneath your window.

“Satoru!” You screeched, dumbfounded by his mere presence and the way he waved up at you, completely unbothered, “How in the world did you get through the gate?!”

“Hey! There you are!” He called, with a lazy grin on his face, “that’s not really important right now.” 

“I would disagree!” You yelled back down to him, making a mental note to have Toji go over all the security points around your property after his day off. “What are you doing here?” 

Satoru laughed sarcastically before the smile on his face suddenly disappeared, and he propped his hands up on his hips. “Where is my car?” 

No. Way. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Satoru.” 

“Nope! Give me back my car. It’s one of a kind!” 

You groaned, reaching up to massage the burgeoning headache you could feel at your temples. “Are you sure it’s not out there in the driveway? Toji left just a bit ago, so you shouldn’t be boxed in or—,” you cut off when the memory of your bodyguard twirling an unfamiliar set of his keys around his finger as he left your bathroom flashed across your memory.

Oh god, that absolute bastard. 

Satoru must have caught the horrified look on your face, as well as how you suddenly stopped talking after mentioning Toji because his face blanched even paler than usual, and his voice was two octaves higher in distress when he hollered back up at you.

“Does that criminal have my car?!” 

You deserved a vacation at this point. 

“I’ll call him in the morning, Satoru, I promise. And I’ll make sure he washes it for you or whatever you want, just come back tomorrow.” You hoped placating him with the prospect of torturing Toji would convince him to leave, but no, he still stood rooted to his spot down below. 

“As fun as that sounds,” he mocked back up at you, “I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t?”

He looked a bit like a toddler caught with his hand somewhere it shouldn’t be. “Suguru dropped me off and then left in a hurry. He said he had something to do.” 

You couldn’t believe that the universe thought that pairing those two together in any capacity was worth the absolute chaos they unleashed on the poor, unsuspecting population. 

The slamming of your front door caught your attention, and you figured your boyfriend was about to make himself known.

“Look,” you sighed, backing away from the window slightly, “you can borrow one of my cars and swap it tomorrow when Toji brings yours.” You ignored Satoru’s protests and started to close the window. “Just apologize to Sukuna for hitting him between the eyes with a rock and he’ll open the garage for you.”

You caught the confusion on Satoru’s face, and just barely heard his panicked remark as you shut the window.

“Oh, fu—.”

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

Whew, that one took it out of me, not gonna lie. Angst and I are not friends.

[ivantillz]

find me;

ivantill, 4.1k, inspired by this post by @ivanttakethis Ivan returns - alive - after round 6 despite all odds but something is different about him. Wrong. Till is on his own to figure out what happened and how to fix it.

Till didn’t know how to describe what he was feeling – that wasn’t quite true; he had an idea. He was numb. He thought he’d been numb, before, but after watching Ivan die… now he knew what true numbness felt like.

He might not have expressed it enough, looking back. Just how much he appreciated having Ivan around. Maybe, he hadn’t even known yet how terribly empty this place would feel without him.

And now he would never get to tell him. He would never even get to talk to him again.

It was over, and frankly Till was too tired to keep fighting. It didn’t matter. His next opponent was Luka and he wasn’t naive enough to think he could win.

Strangely, he felt an odd sense of calm alongside the numbness. He was ready to go. He was ready to see if the aliens were truthful about this one thing, at least. Was there much of anything after death or just eternal darkness?

Nothingness?

Maybe that really would be better. To feel nothing. Be nothing.

Till heard a familiar bell; it was dinnertime. He curled up tighter, hugging his knees and closed his eyes. He wasn’t hungry.

-

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep when he was finally jostled awake. He blinked, once, twice, eyes having a hard time adjusting to the brightness of day.

When he lifted his head, he was met with the face of a girl about his age, dark hair and dark eyes. Unassuming. He was pretty sure he’d seen her around once or twice. They’d never talked.

“I thought you might, um.” She was wringing her hands nervously. Till shouldn’t care. He had given up caring about anything, especially whatever she was struggling to tell him.

He sniffed. “If you have nothing to say, please go away.” He just wanted to go back to sleep. Sleeping was the only time he didn’t feel completely hopeless. At least in his dreams, he wasn’t alone.

“I know we haven’t talked much or anything,” she continued, speaking just a little too fast, “but I thought you might want to see this. You, um. You were close to him, right?”

She didn’t say his name. She didn’t need to.

Till didn’t even bother answering. He just blankly stared at her. Apparently, that was answer enough.

“You really need come see this,” she said again, this time with more urgency.

Till frowned. He should just ignore her. He didn’t want to entertain whatever game she was playing.

“I’m serious,” she was fidgeting again. “Please.”

He could’ve ignored her, but he didn’t. Even now, he supposed his curiosity had a way of getting the better of him. Standing up, he winced when his back cracked and his knees popped.

She smartly didn’t say anything and just led the way. Till followed slowly. It was only when she stopped abruptly that he finally looked up, barely avoiding running into her.

“Hey,” he barked. “Watch it!”

She stepped to the side, opening her mouth, probably to retort, but he couldn’t hear anything over the rushing in his ears.

There, in the middle of a small crowd, was Ivan.

He didn’t even know what to focus on first – his hair, brushed back with a small clip on the side to keep it out of his face. His clothes, pure white and pristine. The smile on his face, warm and sweet.

But none of that mattered, really. Nothing mattered but the fact Ivan was here.

Ivan was alive.

Till didn’t even wait to see if the girl had anything else to say; he rushed past her and joined the crowd, pushing people out of the way. Some of them glared at him, some yelled, but he didn’t care.

He needed to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He needed to know Ivan was real.

When he finally reached the center of the crowd, he let out a shaky breath and just stared. Ivan was really there, standing right in front of him with a confused tilt of his head and an unnervingly polite smile.

Then Ivan opened his mouth and asked possibly the dumbest question he could:

“Are you okay?”

Till felt anger rush to the forefront of his many conflicting emotions, red hot and burning. “Am I okay?” he repeated in disbelief, and suddenly grabbed the collar of Ivan’s shirt. Ivan blinked, but didn’t move to stop him. “You seriously think you can do all that and then just ask me if I’m okay?”

Ivan stared back at him with a familiar blankness before suddenly he was smiling, soft and kind, “I’m sorry,” he said, and Till couldn’t remember ever hearing him apologize, before. “I don’t know what I did but I assure you I didn’t meant to upset you.”

He reached up and gently touched Till’s hands, still clutching his collar.

“If you would let go, maybe we can go somewhere private and talk.”

Till blinked, once, twice, before suddenly letting go like he’d been burned, his hands curling into fists at his sides “You don’t know what you did?” he repeated, slowly, icily. “Is this some kind of sick joke to you?”

His heart was thumping in his chest too fast, too hard. He felt like he was struggling to breathe.

“I really don’t,” Ivan replied softly. It was unnerving, hearing him talk like that. “But I’m assuming I did something to hurt you, and if I did, I really am sorry.”

Till bristled, fists tightening. He could feel something wet in both palms of his hands; blood, maybe, from where his nails were digging too deep.

“You really don’t remember?” he asked, terrified of the answer.

Ivan smiled again; it was too sweet. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Okay.” Till swallowed, forced his hands to relax at his sides. “Okay.”

Without waiting for any kind of response, he turned and ran.

-

For a while, he isolated himself and just tried to figure out what had happened. Maybe some kind of head trauma? That would’ve explained the memory loss, maybe, but Ivan was acting like a completely different person.

Before he had seen Ivan again - before he had gotten confirmation he was still alive - he had gone over all the things he wanted to say to him, good and bad.

Now he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it. He avoided even crossing paths with Ivan for the first few days but then he realized something:

Ivan was avoiding him too. Not on purpose, it seemed, but somehow that realization was even more terrifying.

He used to do anything to get his attention - steal his things just to return them, start trivial fights, ask him to teach him about music (he never paid attention). Now he barely looked in his direction most days, too distracted with the handful of other contestants who were seemingly glued to his side.

Before, he hadn’t had any friends. Not for a lacking of trying - many people wanted to be friends with Ivan - but he had never even bothered trying to act interested.

Eventually they had stopped trying, of course, but now that had changed. It was like people could smell he was different, and they were right.

To make matters even worse, Till had overheard a few of Ivan’s conversations with some of the contestants. He wasn’t sure if Ivan meant it but when they would flirt, fluttering their eyelashes, pouting a little, Ivan would seem interested, smiling coyly.

That was possibly the most obvious sign something was very, very wrong.

Ivan didn’t do friends - not beyond what championship he had been able to forge with Till and Mizi, possibly Sua (before) - but he certainly hadn’t flirted with others.

He hadn’t even flirted with Till prior to their round, despite seemingly having some kind of feelings for him. Or maybe he had, but in unconventional ways. He certainly hadn’t been obvious about it.

(He wanted to talk to him - the real Ivan - understand what he really felt, but now he couldn’t. The Ivan of now apparently felt nothing for him.)

Could a head trauma do that? Till wasn’t educated in that kind of stuff; some of the others were, the way he was interested in music, but even they hadn’t had many chances to explore it with their limited resources. So when he asked, they simply apologized and said, honestly, “I don’t know. Maybe?”

He was grateful for the honesty but it had brought him no closer to figuring out what was going on, or how to reverse it (if that was even possible. He really hoped it was possible.)

-

Till finally reached a breaking point after Ivan won round 7.

(Since nobody had expected him to survive, and it was unprecedented, they had decided to add two new contestants to the lineup; one to go up against Till and one to go up against Ivan, extending the season to 9 rounds overall. The finale would make history as - for the first time - three contestants would go up against each other at once. Till really didn’t care about dissecting what that meant for them, in the future.)

Obviously he was glad he had won - he had been watching the broadcast with bated breath - but he had won by singing a new piece. Till felt an odd sense of comfort, hearing his voice again (maybe the only thing that hadn’t changed) but then he had started to pay closer attention to the lyrics.

And it was wrong. All wrong. Since when did Ivan sing of birds flying through clear blue skies, free and fearless? Of requited love, sweet and true?

It might’ve been his voice, but those weren’t his words. Something was wrong. Ivan was here, but he wasn’t.

Then finally Till made a realization. It was a working theory, of course, but at least it was a start.

-

It started with Till watching Ivan even closer (something he didn’t think was possible). He started to slowly notice other details that were wrong.

Just little things. Things that might not have been noticeable to other people. Like the way Ivan’s laugh was a little off (slightly too high-pitched compared to before). The way his eyes were brighter, now, but somehow lacking life at the same time.

Till realized he reminded him of a doll. Too happy. Too polite. Even Mizi - sweet as she was - hadn’t been nearly as perfect. It was unnerving.

Once - still testing his theory - Till had even spilled his soup on him during dinnertime. Just to see. Ivan had barely spared him a glance, a polite smile. “Don’t worry,” he had said before disappearing to change.

He returned with another white shirt. Laughed with everyone else at a joke that was objectively not funny.

That was when Till was certain he was on the right track. They had done something to him. It wasn’t surprising, in a way. They had experimented on Till many times before, after all, but this was different. This was Ivan; the pride and joy of the season.

It was risky to mess with him, but he supposed if it was that or his death, the aliens had weighed their options and decided this was the better outcome.

And truthfully, it had worked out for them. Ivan had gotten even more support than ever after his latest round; brands were lining up to work with him, he had a new interview being published almost every week.

But Till wouldn’t be so easily satisfied. Even if this Ivan was easier to deal with. Even if he smiled more. Till missed tussling and rolling around in the grass with him. He even missed the times Ivan would steal his things just to return them a few days later.

He missed Ivan, his friend, and possibly something more, one day. He still wasn’t sure; wouldn’t be until they could actually talk about what had happened on that stage. But either way, he would find a way to snap him out of this.

-

Easier said than done. Now it was hard to even get a moment alone with Ivan, seeing as he was always surrounded by people.

Finally Till did what he had to do (and he wasn’t exactly proud of it): he pretended to be hurt, and Ivan - this new version of him, at least - couldn’t resist the bait. He helped him to his room and stood there, seemingly unsure of what to do next. Till pretended to massage his ankle.

“Thank you,” he said, and a part of him meant it.

Whether or not this was the Ivan he knew, he still didn’t like him looking so lost. It was jarring, compared to the easy confidence he usually carried himself with. Before and after. The confidence had always been the one consistent thing across both versions of him, although it had certainly manifested in different ways.

Ivan smiled then, looking more sure of himself. That smile - bright and full as it was - still didn’t manage to quite reach his eyes. Till knew this was it. He had to take this chance and find out a way to reverse whatever they had done to him, if that was possible.

(It had to be; he didn’t know what he would do if it wasn’t.)

For now he just had to keep him here with him, separated from all the others.

“Can you sit with me for a second?” he asked, and Ivan didn’t even hesitate before joining him on the bed that felt more like a concrete slab with a blanket over it.

He even sat politely, hands together in his lap, back a perfectly straight line. He was still smiling. “Did you need anything else?”

Till hesitated for a moment, mentally scrambling for an excuse to keep him here longer. “My ankle really hurts,” he blurted, “even worse than before.” He paused, biting his lip, still thinking. Then he thought of it, the perfect excuse. “Could you maybe look at it?”

“I’m not sure I’d be able to tell you anything,” he replied despite already moving to the floor. Till watched, heart pounding in his chest, as Ivan gently touched his ankle, lifting his foot a little.

He should’ve prepared a bit more, maybe, because his ankle was perfectly fine. No bruising, no cuts. Still he winced, frowning. “It’s sore,” he said, pointing to a random spot. “Around here.”

Ivan nodded, softly running his fingers over the spot with pursed lips.

Till knew he should’ve been thinking more, formulating a plan. He couldn’t just keep Ivan here forever looking at his ankle, and he was no closer to finding out what the aliens had done (or how to reverse it.)

Until he saw it:

A ring, perfectly discreet, around Ivan’s finger. It wasn’t quite silver but an odd hue that nearly blended into the color of Ivan’s skin. Like he - or someone - hadn’t wanted others to notice it.

Till felt his heart beating a little faster. There was no way, right? Surely it couldn’t have been that easy. All these weeks - all this pain - had been caused by a ring?

“Your finger,” he said, voice thick. He hoped Ivan wouldn’t notice; he didn’t, seemingly, still focused on Till’s ankle. “Where did you get that ring?”

Now Ivan looked up. For a long moment he just stared before finally he blinked, once, glancing down at the ring around his finger. “It was a gift.”

Till nodded slowly. “From who?”

“I - ” Ivan stopped, eyebrows furrowing as he idly spun the ring around his finger. “I don’t quite remember, it seems.”

Till knew this was it. He was onto something. He slid off the bed to join Ivan on the floor; Ivan gasped, just a quick breath, gesturing at his ankle with eyes full of concern. Till didn’t know if it was real - his concern. He didn’t know what was real anymore but in this moment he liked to believe it was, as unfounded as it was.

“I’m okay,” he assured him. “I just, can I - ” How did he ask for this, he wasn’t really sure. Finally he gave up and just grabbed Ivan’s hand.

Ivan let him, even as his eyebrows furrowed again, watching as Till gently turned his hand in a few different directions. It was a simple ring, no stone or decorations. It was loose enough for Ivan to spin it around his finger with ease, but too tight to fall off by any accident.

“Do you mind…?” he asked as his fingertips brushed the ring. Surely it wouldn’t be so easy, but it was still worth a try.

Ivan blinked; there was something lost in his gaze, almost like he wasn’t quite seeing. Then suddenly he was pushing Till back with enough force he yelped as his back hit the edge of his bed.

“Don’t touch me,” he said, icily, as he stood and turned toward the door.

It was all wrong. The Ivan that had been, here, for the last few weeks would’ve never reacted like that. So aggressive and cold. That was when Till knew there was no other option: that ring had to go. Whatever was going on, it was clear the aliens had put in some kind of safety measure to keep Ivan from letting anyone take it off.

Whether or not it would magically fix everything was unimportant. It was a start, at least. Till scrambled back to his feet and grabbed Ivan by the arm, yanking as hard as he could. Ivan stumbled, for just a second, but it was enough for Till to get the upper hand he needed.

He spun them around and pushed Ivan onto his bed; he fell with a huff. Before he could fully recover, Till was on top of him, pinning his arms down by his sides. Ivan had always been stronger than him but thankfully with the element of surprise and whatever adrenaline was coursing through his veins it seemed he had managed to subdue him.

“What are you doing?” Ivan asked; his voice no longer had that icy coolness to it, but he was obviously still not happy.

Till squeezed his wrists, hard. “I know you don’t remember me or - or what happened,” flashes of that night on the stage, painful and sharp, played through his mind, “but I know you cared about me and I don’t know if you knew at the time how much I cared about you too.”

Ivan just stared up at him, unblinking. Till took a shaky breath.

“I wish I had let you known, before that night.” His eyes burned but he forced the urge to cry back, swallowing thickly. He needed to focus right now. “Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have done what you did. Maybe we could’ve found another way. You had always been the smartest out of any of us. If anyone could’ve done it, it was you.”

Ivan finally blinked, his mouth pressing together into a thin line. Till couldn’t spend too long wondering if any of this was getting through to him. He just had to keep talking.

“Instead you felt like the only way to save me was through sacrificing yourself, and - ” It was too late; his eyes watered, blurring his vision just a little. “I was so mad at you, at first. I was so angry I was sick. You - ” Till paused, shaking his head, hard. “You had no right to do that. To decide for me what I needed.”

He paused, took another shaky breath. Ivan still didn’t say anything.

“I missed you so much, Ivan,” his voice wavered with each word. “I thought I was never going to see you again and I was so numb. I realized I cared about you, more than I ever realized and - and you weren’t even here for me when I needed you the most.” He sniffed, squeezing his wrists even tighter. “You selfish asshole.”

Finally Ivan opened his mouth to say something. His eyes looked shiny, glistening. Till didn’t even bother waiting to see what he had to say; he surged down and slammed their lips together so hard their teeth clanked together, sending a jolt of pain through his jaw.

Ivan made a small noise in the back of his throat. Surprise, maybe. Till used the moment to let go of his wrist and feel for the ring; as soon as he found it, he yanked it off without hesitation and threw it across the room. He heard the distant clattering and then Ivan was kissing him back with fervor, taking his face in his hands.

Till felt something warm in his chest - hope - as he shifted, deepening the kiss. He was almost afraid to stop, afraid that he’d been wrong and nothing would be changed. Afraid he was kissing a stranger, not the Ivan he knew and desperately needed back.

But finally he had no choice; he pulled back and stared down at Ivan, eyes half-lidded, mouth wet and swollen from the aggressive kissing.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please say something.”

Ivan blinked, some clarity seeming to return to his eyes. His tongue poked out, licking at the corner of his mouth where there was just the smallest spot of blood, probably Till’s fault.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and for a moment Till felt the world stop. He had failed. But then Ivan’s hands were at his sides, holding on gently. “I never even considered how you would feel.”

Till sniffed, waited. Didn’t want to get his hopes up too much.

“I can’t even lie and say I thought you wouldn’t care.” Ivan smiled, a small thing. It was nothing like the fake smiles he’d been giving for weeks now. “Because you’re you, and you care more than you let on.”

He didn’t even realize he was shaking until Ivan smoothed a hand down his back, trying to calm him.

“But one of us had to die up there, didn’t they?” Ivan’s hand stopped, low on his back. He let out a soft sigh. “And it couldn’t be you. I couldn’t let that happen.”

Till swallowed around the lump in his throat, almost too big to breathe. “You kissed me,” he said. It wasn’t an accusation, just a quiet acknowledgment. “You asshole, you kissed me and then left me here to try and pick up all the pieces by myself.”

He wasn’t really angry.

“And you just kissed me,” Ivan said, slowly. “Good way to distract me, hm?”

Till couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let things go unsaid between them, not after everything. What if something happened again? What if this was his only chance?

“I did use it as a distraction,” he admitted, but then, “I’d been thinking about it for a while.”

Ivan’s hand twitched against his back. “You had this plan for that long?”

“No,” Till answered truthfully before leaning down a little; their noses were only a couple inches from touching. “You should’ve told me, Ivan. Given me a chance to decide what I really wanted.”

Ivan stared back at him, unwavering. “You wouldn’t have chosen me,” he said with a confidence that sent a pang through Till’s chest, and maybe he would’ve been right, once upon a time, but things were so different now.

They could never go back and change the past, as much as Till wanted to, but the least he could do was be honest with himself moving forward.

“Maybe not back then,” he admitted, because he wasn’t fond of lying and it felt important to be honest here. “But I’m not the person I was back then, am I?”

Ivan gazed up at him with an intensity that made him shiver. “No,” he agreed. “I suppose you aren’t. Because you never would’ve gone through this much trouble for me, before.”

“I always cared about you, Ivan,” he replied, softening his voice, needing him to hear it. “I think I just didn’t know how much.”

Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. Till didn’t know what he was going to say, but that was okay. He wouldn’t push it. They had a lot to figure out over the next few hours - like how they were going to hide Ivan breaking through whatever the aliens had done to him, or if they even could hide it because Till didn’t want to risk putting the ring back on, or even where they stood as friends or more - but for now none of that mattered.

Ivan was back, he was here with him, gazing up at him like he used to, when he used to think Till was never looking (and he wasn’t, most of the time, but not all the time.) And Till knew he would do anything to ensure he never left him again.

[2hightocare]

ACQUAINTANCES!

Synopsis: Jungkook and you can only stand each other whenever you guys are fucking, well that’s what you guys thought initially.

Parings: fuckboy!jungkook x fuckgirl!reader

Genre: college au! fwb! e2l!

Warnings: smut!! Open ending, no confession. Rough sex, unprotected sex (pls wrap it) Smut with just a tiny bit of plot if you squint, reader is a squirter (sorry not sorry) daddy/mommy kink, cussing, blowjob, reader crying from pleasure, jk is a dirty talker, banter, a lot of bickering from both of them, cute fluff at the end for Valentine’s Day!

a/n: hai my loves, i disappeared for a while.. I’ve been really busy with school at the moment. But I wrote this short pwp for all of you as a valentines gift before I lag again.. I’m trying to write an actual f1 driver!jk fic right now so sorry if I’m not updating as much…. But anywho enjoy my little gift<3⭐️

“That’s my good girl, fuck." He plunges deeper into you, hitting your spot repeatedly. His hand lays on your head, pushing you down into the mattress, your makeup smudged from sucking his cock, and tears stream down your face.

“Right there, baby, that’s it.” Jungkook pounds into you from behind; your legs are shaking, trying so hard not to give out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his cock spreads your walls deliciously. “Agh fuck.” You moan loudly, your mouth hanging open, drool spilling out onto the white sheets.

You reach behind you, pushing him off you. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he watches your legs shake. Your breaths are heavy, and you are trying so hard to catch your breath. “Take it off.” You whine about the condom; you reach for Jungkook's cock and pull on the clear condom, taking it off.

“Want me to fuck you, raw princess?” Jungkook groans, grabbing the base of his cock, giving your pussy a few slaps with his length, making you clench over nothing. Jungkook uses one of his arms to pick you up and turn you around, your back pressed against the comfortable mattress. “Feels good, huh?” He asks as he slowly rubs your swollen, aching clit with his thumb. Jungkook watches your expression, your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes cloudy, trying so hard to keep them open, his hand reaching to your tear-stained cheeks, squeezing them, making your mouth form a kiss.

“What do you say?” Jungkook asks as you slowly nod your head. You were fucked dumb, and he knew that, which made him chuckle softly. He could tell from how you couldn’t even answer the question or even fight him for it like you usually do.

“Speak up; use your words, baby.” Jungkook smirks, giving your cheeks a light slap before squeezing them again. “Feels so good.” You slur, and you squeeze your legs together to relieve some of the tension your center is feeling. You have come four times now, and Jungkook none.

“Good girl.” Jungkook says before helping you sit up as he leans against the header, his hard laying on his stomach. Jungkook is packed, to say the least; even when he’s soft, you can see his imprint in his underwear.

It scared you at first when he pulled it out because, how the fuck was that going to fit in you? You swear you almost got up and left. 

“That’s not going to fit.” You say, your pointer finger pointing at his thick length in his hand. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jungkook chuckles, and you give him a glare back instead, showing that you are serious. “It’s going to fit; we’ll make it fit, baby.” He grins. "Plus, you can take four fingers; you’ll be fine.” He comes closer to you and says, "It’ll feel so good, I promise.” He whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your back.

You crawl your way to him, stopping between his legs; his eyes bore into yours. “You’re so pretty.” He compliments you, swiping his thumb on your bottom lip. “Fuck off, you just want your dick sucked.” You roll your eyes, grabbing the base of his cock. Your small hand, not even being able to wrap around his cock, always sent Jungkook a sense of pride to his chest.

“Gon’ suck daddy’s cock?” Jungkook moves your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “If you call yourself daddy one more time, I will bite your dick; don’t try me.” You glare up at him. "Well, isn’t she back? Not even five minutes ago, you were calling me daddy.” Jungkook chuckles at your expression. You looked hot with his cock inches away from your face, slightly twitching, waiting to be sucked.

You and Jungkook had history; to say the least, you both kind of hated each other. If it wasn’t because he said something you didn’t like, it was because he breathed a little too loudly around you. 

Just something about his smug face looking at you and throwing snarky comments had you wanting to claw your acrylics into his skin. Which was something Jungkook loved; he loved watching you roll your eyes every time you saw him, and he absolutely loved it when you fought back with him.

You had no clue how you ended up throwing insults at him every five seconds whenever he would show up anywhere; you would say it was because he was a man whore. You heard from every girl on campus how good he fucked but left right after coming, or if they were lucky, he left before they woke up. But honestly, that really doesn’t matter now that you’re in his bed getting your guts rearranged almost every seven days of the week by him.

Jungkook doesn't hate you; he just loves challenging you. Plus, he thought the only way he could find himself talking and being closer to you meant arguing; he would take it. You are well known on campus as well; his friends warned him about you, but you were just his type. So who was he to throw out the possibility of having you in his bed?

You didn’t even know how you ended up becoming friends with benefits—something along the lines of a frat party, an angry make-out session, and sex in someone’s bed. Jungkook fucked you so good; you are hundred percent sure you passed out and saw stars.

What were strictly professional meetings? how you like to call them? Turned into sleepovers, hanging out, cuddling, and calling each other cute nicknames. You guys still fought; it was more like bickering now. What you both weren’t looking for was a catching feeling; it started as having sex whenever one of you was horny, but now you find yourself wanting to be with each other regardless if you guys’ had sex or not.

“Now I don’t want to suck your dick after you called yourself daddy; that’s such an ick.” You scrunch your nose, giving his cock a tug, making him bite his lip with a laugh.

“That’s an ick? Ick when you told me to call you mommy like a month ago.” Jungkook recalls making your eyes widen. “Stop, I was drunk.” You whine, rolling your eyes. “We both said we wouldn’t bring it up, plus I said it as in sugar mommy.” You try to explain yourself as Jungkook smiles down at you. 

“Sugar mommy? I pay for everything, so just shut  up." Jungkook chuckles, grabbing ahold of his cock, giving it a pump.

You only follow his movements with your eyes as your pussy oozes with your juices, your wetness dripping down your thighs. Jungkook presses his cock to your cheek before slapping it multiple times. “My favorite view—imagine this, but on my lock screen." Jungkook jokes, which makes you glare at him. “In your dreams.” You say.

“It’s definitely in my dreams,” he groans. Jungkook moves his dick to your lips before patting his length on them. “Open.” He orders, which you immediately do, taking his tip into your mouth.

"Agh,” he chokes in a moan as you suck on the swollen tip. You replace his hands with yours pumping in his shaft while you try to take as much as you can down your throat. “Fuck.” Jungkook throws his head back, and you bob your head up and down his cock.

“So big.” You breathe out before returning to bob your head at a fast pace. Drool accumulates in your cheeks, dripping down Jungkook's cock. “Don’t boost my ego more, baby.” Jungkook howls; his tattooed hand gets a hold of your head before pushing it down. You gag on his cock, but Jungkook doesn’t care as he continues to fuck into your mouth. “Aw shit, shit shit.” Jungkook moans with each thrust into your warm mouth.

Tears run down your cheeks as Jungkook uses your mouth. Your hands rest on his hip bones, tapping slightly whenever you need to breathe. “Right there, baby, that’s it.” Jungkook mumbles, his cock twitching in your mouth, meaning he’s close. Before he could come, he pulled your head off of him with a loud pop. Strings of saliva and pre-cum connect your mouth and his cock.

“Fuck!” Jungkook pumps his cock hurriedly, his eyes shut as strings of curse words leave his mouth. “Where do I come? Shit.” Jungkook moans, his abs flexing as his hips lift up with each thrust into his hand. “Tits.” You wipe your mouth, positioning yourself in front of him before he shoots strings of his sticky cum on your round boobs. “Ahh fuck.” Jungkook chokes on another moan, giving his cock one last pump.

His chest heaves as he tries so hard to catch his breath, peeking an eye open and seeing you on your knees with your tits adorned with his cum. You giggle at his state. “I think you just boosted my ego by putting ‘expert at giving head' in my resume.” You joke as his chest rumbles with laughter.

“The head game is strong. Who taught you that?” Jungkook asks, and an inch of jealousy pikes his chest as he thinks about you ever giving a blowjob to someone else that wasn’t him. “Myself, you can do so much with a dildo.” You flutter your eyelashes at him, running your hands down his chest. His cock twitches as he watches you lay back down on the bed, your legs spread open as an invitation.

“Have I told you how good of an idea it was to get this mattress? Yeah, this one is a lot nicer,” Jungkook says as he starts to hover over your much smaller frame. “Whenever we fuck, it doesn’t leave me with back pain,” he moans when he easily slides his cock in you from how wet you are, a sharp moan that leaves your throat.

“It's al- also comfy.” You moan between deep breaths as his cock hits your g-spot. “Yeah, yeah, whatever it’s comfortable to sleep on,” he chuckles as his eyes flutter shut when you clench around him, sending him deeper into you.

“Shit! tightest pussy ever.” His grip tightens on your thighs, which are pushed up by him. “Do you see how pretty your pussy looks being filled with my cock?” He motions to his length, buried deep inside you. The noticeable bulge on your tummy has him wanting to ram inside you without restraint. 

He watches as you just hum with your eyes closed, “I said look.” Jungkook's hand gets a hold of your hair, pulling you upward, making you see his cock in you.

“I’m going to get a cramp because of you.” You moan as you watch his cock slowly slide out, making the bulge disappear before reappearing again when he slammed back, making your eyes shut with a scream. “You’ll be fine,” he laughs before slamming into you. The grip on your hair doesn’t loosen as your eyes vision is just his cock sliding in and out of your pussy over and over again.

“Open your eyes; come on, baby.” He gives your hair a little tug, making your eyes shoot open with your mouth wide open. “Fuck! Prettiest view, huh?” Jungkook's hips slam into you repeatedly.

“Ah, cramp,” you moan as he lets go of your hair, making you drop onto the mattress with a shake. His movements didn’t halt as he continued to fuck into you. 

Jungkook holds onto your legs before powering into you. Your hands grip onto the sheets as the moans flow out of your mouth uncontrollably. Jungkook spreads your legs open before pressing his palm on your lower belly on his bulge, sending a sense of shock through your body. Jungkook feels your pussy tighten, which only meant one thing, “I’m going to squirt, oh fuck.” You rush out, trying so hard to push him off.

Jungkook found out you were squirted when he fucked you in the bathroom at a Christmas party. Your red skirt lifted up to your ass, and your Santa Claus hat held on for dear life with each thrust he slammed into you. You didn’t expect to leave the bathroom with a drenched shirt; you only laughed at his reaction.

Jungkook pulls out immediately, inserting three of his fingers in you before pounding them in and out of you. Your body spasms with each curl of his fingers inside you, sending spurts of liquid out of you with a scream. Your eye vision went blurry, and as your head went lightheaded from the immense pleasure you were feeling, your hands gripped so tightly on the sheets that they went white.

“Are you breathing?” Jungkook chuckles at your spent body on his bed. He gives your pussy a small slap before kissing your cheek. "Mhm,” you pout, closing your legs, which has him laughing before he stands up and makes his way to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” You peek an eye open, watching him put on his boxers, his dick still hard from your guys previous activities. “I'm getting you a towel and clothes, princess.” Jungkook enters his bathroom, picking up a clean towel before making his way beside you.

“Let me clean you; spread." Jungkook taps on your thigh. You cover your face as he cleans you up. Small moans leave your mouth from the oversensitivity. You felt comfortable letting Jungkook do these things for you; even though they were super intimate, it didn’t feel wrong when Jungkook did it.

“All clean, let me help you put this on.” He motions to your pink panties you left a week ago in his house. Just thinking of Jungkook washing your underwear made your chest ache. "Up,” he says to your arms as he puts his black shirt over you.

“You didn’t come,” you say, looking at his erection. "It doesn’t matter; it’ll go away. Are you craving anything so I can DoorDash?” Jungkook skips over your question. “Wings..?” You pout as Jungkook picks you up and places you on the chair in his room as he changes the wet sheets for a new set.

“Order some; my phone is over there.” He points to his phone on the nightstand. Your heart skipped a beat. Not ever did one of your exes ever let you touch their phones, so for Jungkook to tell you to get his phone like nothing made your heart speed up, even if you both didn’t establish the boyfriend and girlfriend label.

Let’s just say you ended your night with wings in bed and a cute man cuddling with you all night until the morning.

[reasoningdaily]

My former U.S. Track and Field teammate Tori Bowie, who was found dead in her home in Florida on May 2, of complications related to childbirth at 8 months pregnant, was a beautiful runner. She was effortless. At the Rio Olympics, I ran the second leg of the 4 x 100 relay. Tori was the anchor. When she got the baton, I remember thinking, “it’s over.” She just accelerated. When she crossed the finish line, I couldn’t wait to run over to her to celebrate. It was her first, and only, Olympic gold medal.

She also picked up a silver (in the 100-m) and bronze (200-m) in Brazil. The next year, at the 2017 World Championships in London, Tori won the 100-m title, earning the title of “world’s fastest woman.” Tori started out as a long jumper. So seeing her thrive as a sprinter was a huge deal. She was just such a bright light, and people were getting to see that.

Tori grew up in Mississippi and had this huge Southern accent. She didn’t take herself too seriously. You felt this sense of ease when you were around her. I last saw her in early 2021, in San Diego, where she was training. She gave me the biggest hug; something about her spirit was just very, very sweet. I felt her sweetness come over me that day.

Tori was 32 when she died. According to the autopsy, possible complications contributing to Bowie’s death included respiratory distress and eclampsia—seizures brought on by preeclampsia, a high blood pressure disorder that can occur during pregnancy. I developed preeclampsia during my pregnancy with my daughter Camryn, who was born in November 2018. The doctors sent me to the hospital, where I would deliver Camryn during an emergency C-section, at 32 weeks. I was unsure if I was going to make it. If I was ever going to hold my precious daughter.

Like so many Black women, I was unaware of the risks I faced while pregnant. According to the CDC, in 2021 the maternal mortality rate for Black women was 2.6 times the rate for white women. About five days before I gave birth to Camryn, I was having Thanksgiving dinner with my family. I mentioned that my feet were swollen. As we went around the table, the women shared their experiences during pregnancy. My cousin said she also had swollen feet. My mom didn’t. Not once did someone say, ‘oh, well, that’s one of the indicators of preeclampsia.’ None of us knew. When I became pregnant, my doctor didn’t sit me down and tell me, ‘these are things that you should look for in your pregnancy, because you are at a greater risk to experience these complications.’

That needs to change, now, especially in light of Tori’s tragic passing. Awareness is huge. Serena Williams had near-death complications during her pregnancy. Beyoncé developed preeclampsia. I hate that it takes Tori’s situation to put this back on the map and to get people to pay attention to it. But oftentimes, we need that wake-up call.

The medical community must do its part. There are so many stories of women dying who haven’t been heard. Doctors really need to hear the pain of Black women.

Luckily, there’s hope on several fronts. Congress has introduced the Momnibus Act, a package of 13 bills crafted to eliminate racial disparities in maternal health and improve outcomes across the board. California passed Momnibus legislation back in 2021. These laws make critical investments in areas like housing, nutrition, and transportation for underserved communities. Further, several pharmaceutical companies are making advances on early detection and treatment of preeclampsia.

Three gold medalists from that 4 x 100 relay team in Rio set out to become mothers. All three of us—all Black women—had serious complications. Tianna Madison has shared that she went into labor at 26 weeks and entered the hospital “with my medical advance directive AND my will.” Tori passed away. We’re dealing with a Black Maternal Health crisis. Here you have three Olympic champions, and we’re still at risk.

I would love to have another child. That’s something that I know for sure. But will I be here to raise that child? That’s a very real concern. And that’s a terrifying thing. This is America, in 2023, and Black women are dying while giving birth. It’s absurd.

I’m hopeful that things can get better. I’m hopeful that Tori, who stood on the podium at Rio, gold around her neck and sweetness in her soul, won’t die in vain.

—as told to Sean Gregory

[chastiefoul]

0:56 a.m. | nanami kento

0.6k words

“kento,” you whispered into the silence of the night and the dimmed lights on your room. It’s been way past midnight and you hadn’t been able to sleep, contrary to your boyfriend who’s lying beside you—his breath steady and calm.

when your voice didn’t budge him out of his slumber you tried once more.

“kento.” this time a little louder.

he then muttered an inaudible word, still closing his eyes. his hand wandered though, tightening his hold around the back of your shoulder; bringing you close to his chest. better, but the gesture was not enough for you who’s not feeling even a little sleepy, as mischief ideas filled your head.

third time’s a charm, they said. so you called him once more.

this time it finally did something as he hummed a reply, his free hand rubbed your side in a calming pattern, his hand went underneath your shirt that’s all rode up. he settled his grip just an inch under your chest, his thumb slowly moved up and down. “that tickles,” you said as you put a hand over his, refraining his little movement. Although, you’re sure he could hear the smile on your voice.

he finally opened his eyes as he gave you a lazy little smile and you swore you didn’t remember seeing anything more gorgeous than that. “why aren’t you asleep, hm?” his voice a tone heavier than usual, a tad husky as it laced deep with sleep. “i can’t sleep,” you whispered, like telling a secret to your best friends in a slumber party. “right. so i don’t get to either, yeah?” he replied, a smile on his face; and it’s only fondness shine across his feature.

“i mean, i understand if the old man needs his sleep even though tomorrow’s weekend. so by all means,” you said playfully, and that earned a deep chuckle from him. “don’t tease, who said we should have an early night today?” he raised an eyebrow, and for such a calm sleeper he now couldn’t stop his wandering hand as he’s diligent on giving you back-scratches—not that you’re complaining. “yes, but that was before my confidence in being able to fall asleep crumbled right before my eyes,” you claimed, feigning a serious tone. “i see, my mistake.” his eyes narrowed affectionately and you had a feeling you could say the dumbest excuse and he’d let you get away with anything.

you felt the need to sit up and do something but before you could even do that he held you down gently. “none of that, you’ll feel even more restless, love.” you couldn’t even protest at that since you knew he’s always right. “then what do you suggest we do now?”

“it’s a we problem now, hm?” he stared at you in amusement, knowing who dragged him into the sleepless night as well was none other than you. “is that a complaint i hear?” you threw him a questioning look. “it’s excitement, of course.” he laughed softly as he stroke your hair ever-so-gently.

“i should just start rambling maybe it’ll get me tired,” you said randomly and he just nodded without offering any question. “sure, i’m listening.” his hand didn’t stop moving. “where should i start?” you asked, relying on his answer. And of course it came easy for the man who seemed like he knew all the right words. “start anywhere, love. you could repeat anything, skipped over some words, or even tell it backwards and i’ll be here to point it out,” he said lovingly.

and you don’t know if it’s just his power you didn’t know about but it’s not even ten minutes after you started talking and as he kept doing the little gesture you could feel the sleepiness coming, welcoming you to one of your best slumber in a while.

--

idk how it took me this long to write this man. i love him so much.

[lucyrose191]

OBSESSED|| J.F POTTER

Pairing; James Potter x Fem!Girlfriend!reader

Summary; It’s no secret that James Potter is absolutely obsessed with his girlfriend and he couldn’t be more in love.

Warnings; None. (Fluff.)

HP/Marauders Master List

The entirety of Hogwarts were not ignorant of the knowledge that when James Potter loved, he loved hard and he did it with everything he had in him.

They had seen it in the way he treated his closest friends and they had most definitely seen it when they had seen him pine after Lily Evans, trying with everything in him to gain her affections.

However, after at least a hundred hairline cracks to his heart it was important to make the decision to move on from the red head before his heart broke in two.

It was hard to believe that the Potter boy had truly decided to put the red head behind him, even his friends weren’t really sure they believed him but it just so happened that the boy was telling the truth.

He no longer put on grand performances professing his love, no longer sent gifts via owl flying through the Great Hall and no longer tried to ask out Lily on a date.

Instead he took time to focus on himself, his studies and his friends.

It turns out that when your entire focus is simply on the girl you thought was the love of your life and pranking others it could really affect a person’s grades and so when Minnie had suggested the idea of a tutor he happily agreed with her, he wanted to prove that he really was serious about his studies and his future, not just to his professors but to his parents too.

He wanted to be more than a spoilt, rich boy that got handed everything he could ever need.

He wanted to earn the opportunities he was being given.

Lucky for him, he got a lot more than he was bargaining for when he walked into McGonagall’s classroom that day to find you sitting at one of the desks with your head stuck in a book, waiting for him.

Not only did his grades start skyrocketing but he found that with each tutoring session he spent with you a weight began to grow in his chest, only growing heavier with each moment you spent together.

He’d begin to look forward to seeing you there waiting for him, hair messily pulled back away from your face, eyes narrowed in concentration as you read whatever book you had with you that week, he thought you were adorable.

Slowly, he had accepted the fact that he did indeed, have a crush on you.

He approached it differently than he had with Lily though, instead of grand gestures and eccentric performances, he instead settled for subtle acts of service and innocent touches.

An entire two months he had spent sending subtle glances your way, asking innocent questions to get to know you better, strategically taking notice in the way you’d react to his minor compliments or soothing touches to try and find out if you in some way felt the same.

He thought you did, you had to, right?

He wasn’t imagining the way your cheeks would turn pink when he brushed his hand against you or the way you’d shyly refuse eye contact with him when he looked at you a certain way.

He couldn’t have been imagining it.

He wasn’t. When he eventually bit the bullet and asked you out on a date he couldn’t believe it when you had agreed.

A night spent in the Astronomy Tower with your favourite snacks as you talks for hours and watched the stars had been the start of it all.

There was no doubt about it that James Potter loved you, Hogwarts had never seen him happier.

"He’s doing it again," Sirius groaned, seeing the way James was sitting with his head rested against his palm, seemingly in a daydream as he stared across the hall at you.

It would’ve been deemed creepy if they didn’t know he was staring at his girlfriend, you.

"Leave him alone, Padfoot, he’s in love," Remus teased, briefly glancing up from the novel he was reading, it amazed him every time at just how easy it was to read the emotions swimming in his friend’s hazel eyes.

"He was never like this with Lily," Peter piped up through a mouth of pastry.

Sirius gave him a look of disgust before commenting "He doesn’t even know who Lily is anymore, there’s only two women that exist to our Prongs here and those are his mother and the girl he’s currently staring holes into."

There was no indication that James had heard Sirius’ words but he suddenly jumped up from his seat, startling his three friends. "I need to go give Y/N a hug before she forgets about me." He briefly explained before hurrying towards his girl.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" Sirius mutters in disbelief, all three of them turning to stare at where you were now in James’ arms, looking up at him with a loving smile.

There was no lie in the saying that Potter’s only fall in life once, they just first need to learn the difference between love and infatuation.

He had been infatuated with Lily, but he was beyond in love with you.

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

TW: NSFW, yandere

gn reader

You’re attracted to Bakugou for many reasons – he’s tall and ripped and handsome and a bit of an asshole – but really, what you like about him most is that he doesn't seem like he’d be too much trouble. And you mean that in many ways. 

You’ve been in relationships before, and none of them have ended on good terms – always leading to deep upsets and disappointments. You’d come to the realization that boys, on any level that wasn’t purely sexual, were something you didn’t really need or want at the moment – which is why Bakugou, in all his disinterested glory, was just perfect for you. 

He’d fold you in half in filthy places like the locker room or bathroom or in his smoke-steeped car – making your heart beat from the thrill without that nagging feeling of being underappreciated because, well, you didn’t really care. He wasn’t your boyfriend and you weren’t committed to each other in any serious way, so there really weren’t any grounds for standards or expectations – it was just sex – carnal ball-clapping sweaty sex – pure and simple and just what you needed. No more, no less.

You didn’t go on dates or meet each other's parents or give each other chocolate on Valentine's Day or any other presents on any other holiday – you didn’t even hang out aside from seeing each other at parties and sometimes in the school hallways. He’d cock his head with a grin, and you’d smile coyly up through your lashes, and you’d meet in the handicapped bathrooms between classes to get drilled over the sink with your face smudged against the cool mirror.

It's only when he starts knowing things about you that you grow a little stiff with your arrangement - things he couldn’t possibly know from you as you’d never cared to speak about your private life. And sure, some of those things he could have easily found out through your social media standing – which already makes you feel a little iffy – but there are other things he’ll slip out, specifics about your interests and classes and whereabouts and the stuff you do with your friends – stuff you’re positive you’ve not posted anywhere. 

When you asked him about it, halfway jokingly with a somewhat nervous laugh, he’d only quirked a brow and brushed it off, insisting you’d been the one that told him. And you, despite being sure he’s lying, decide to believe it anyway. Because what the two of you have right now is still good – much better than any other fuck-friend you’d had before. Katsuki makes you so wet, and he's always so able to just pound your orgasm right out of you. 

If payment is small talk, you can humor him.

But then the sex becomes a little dull. Instead of his fist wrapping tight around your throat, he’s now sucking gentle love bites into the skin. And he no longer has his hand in your hair, forcing your face down against a cold surface with nails digging into your scalp to keep you still while fucking you fast and selfishly from behind.

Both his hands are instead holding you around the waist, keeping your body skin-to-skin against his chest as he gently lolls you on his lap – so slow you can’t even feel your heart – so slow you’re still breathing through your nose. He hasn’t slapped your ass once, and it’s beginning to get a little sad.

You want to tell him that you want him to fuck you like he’s a dirty cop and you’re a criminal resisting arrest – and not this old married couple shit. But you also don’t want to be rude. 

However, after all the one-sided heart-to-hearts he’d sat you through lately – spending more time chatting than making you cum – you were left feeling a little awkward, honestly. And between that and how he’d started texting you goodnights at eight-thirty – you were afraid he’d lost his original raw sex appeal.

He’s become so pedestrian in your eyes he might as well have been wearing glasses and a sweater vest.

You let him finish without saying anything – but you can't deny you’re happy when you feel him finally blow his load.

Dismounting him, you jump to your seat in the car and pull your underwear back up without a word.

It’s silent while he lights a smoke and rolls down his window – his hand coming to rest on your thigh after.

You look out your own window, your face in your palm while you think. And then talk. “I think… we need to stop.”

He's a little busy with his cigarette, but still, he answers, casually. “Stop what?” Smoke goes out his mouth and up his nostrils, then out again.

“This.” You answer. “Fucking.”

The hand on your thigh stirs and you catch him shifting his head to look at you, but you don’t return the gesture – keeping your eyes fixed on the puddle peppering with raindrops out on the empty parking lot the two of you’ve often spent time burning rubber drifting donuts before making the windows steamy.

“Why?” He eventually says. Flicking the spent filter out onto the wet pavement. Rolling the window back up and leaving the both of you in a way too tense silence of muted rain.

You sigh, leaning back against the headrest. “We’re not strangers anymore... It’s just getting a little boring.”

He taps another cigarette up from his box but doesn’t light it – just rolls it around in his fingers with his head bowed. “Boring, huh?” He repeats. And then there’s a pause. 

A hefty pause. A silent one that lasts a little too long and makes you forget the subject in favor of thinking about other things – like, had your roommate done the dishes this time, or were they still on the counter?

“What if I lock the car and drive us off a cliff?” He breaks through your thoughts, and this time, it’s you who turns your head. Looking at him while he still fingers the same slim roll in his hands – mumbling to it, it would seem. “I’ll laugh, you’ll scream… and maybe I’ll light this cig’ while we’re in the air…”

He sighs – as though what he’d just said was not what he’d said – then copies your action, letting his head fall back to rest against the leather – his face blank and his breath steady.

“If you fuck someone else, I’ll break their face.”

This time you blink when staring at him – face riddled, doubting what you were hearing come out of his mouth. “You what?”

“If- you fuck- someone else…” He repeats slowly. “I- will break- their face.” He says it so calmly you’re still unsure whether you heard him right. “Understand?” He asks – chin cocked up while glancing at you from the corner of his red eyes. “I won't stop punching until their teeth are on the ground and their eyes are so bloated and bloody they can no longer see who it is that’s throwing the hits.”

You blink a few more times. Stunned into a stupor, picturing it with parted lips without any words escaping them.

He rolls down the window again and puts the smoke between his lips.

And while he lights it and blows the roof full of grey, you’re still hung up on the image…

Maybe Bakugou wasn’t as boring as you thought.

[evera-era]

f**k you.

ellie williams x afab!reader

warnings: hate sex, ellie’s rude as shit in the first half, alcohol use, some name-calling, aggressive kissing, fingering, scissoring, brat taming, spanking, edging/overstim… i think thats it

a/n: kinktober’s here! ik im a few hours late guys im sorry. but hopefully this juicyness makes up for it !! wc 3.4k

Ellie couldn’t stand you.

She found you so incredibly annoying, and yet you shared the same friends. Which was the biggest problem, ever.

She never failed to make sure to let you know what she thought of you.

“Hey, idiot. We’re trying to have a conversation. Shut it for once, yeah?”

And you made sure to let her know that the feeling was mutual.

“Suck my dick, Williams.”

And like clockwork, she’d say something along the lines of “Sorry babe. Not into that.”

Truthfully, the two of you had been doing this for a while. This was nothing new. You’d go at eachother back and forth until one of you gets genuinely pissed off. Rinse. Repeat.

Dina hated it because she loves the two of you; she just can’t handle being in a room with both of you at once. Jesse would find it amusing until you and Ellie wouldn’t shut up during a movie.

It didn’t matter what you said or did. Ellie would either laugh, mock, or straight up disagree with you. Even if you stayed quiet and said nothing at all.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

She’d wait for your response, and when you didn’t have one, she’d keep going.

“No seriously. You look like dogshit.”

“Ellie please shut the fuck up.”

It was like she couldn’t ignore you. As if your presence was so incredibly overwhelming, that she just had to react to everything you did. You didn’t get it.

If you met up with the friend group to eat, Ellie somehow “forgot” to get you something. She’d make plans and purposely exclude you. And if you brought it up, she’d tell you to “chill the fuck out, it’s not that serious.”

You hated Ellie. And yet here you were, six feet across from her, sitting on the rug of her living room floor. Dina had insisted on a friendly get-together at Ellie’s, specifically requesting that “you don’t kill eachother.” You told her you’d try, but made no promises.

“Hey, Jesse.” Ellie said. “Could you grab me and Dina another beer?”

“Ellie,” Dina says. “You didn’t even ask if Y/N wanted one.”

“So?” She replies. “She’s a big girl. If she wants another she can get it herself.”

You rolled your eyes. She always did this — talked about you as if you were the dumbest person to ever exist.

“I’m right here, Ellie.” You snap. “I can hear you.”

“I know.” Ellie says. “That’s why I said it.”

“Guys, please.” Dina groans. “Just one night. One good night is all I ask.”

Jesse brings over more bottles. He cracks one open before handing it to you. Ellie stares at you, waiting for Jesse to hand out the rest before speaking.

“It would be easier if I didn’t have to look at her fuckin’ face all night.”

You scoffed. “You know, you’re really cocky for someone who lives in a fucking garage.”

“You’re lucky I even let your ass in this garage.” Ellie mutters. “Probably tracked in a shitton of dirt.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You ask abruptly.

Dina rubs her temples. “Guys—“

“You that stupid?” She questions. “It means I’m gonna have to sweep once you leave. Don’t want your germs gettin’ on my shit.”

“Fuck this. Nope. Not doing this.” Dina says, getting up from the floor. She whips around to face you and Ellie.

“I have tried to ignore the two of you in hopes of having a good time. I have begged you to get along for once. But clearly, none of it’s fucking working!” She throws her hands up. “I’m done. Seriously — come on, Jesse, we’re leaving.”

Jesse thinks for a moment, then shrugs. He begins walking towards the door with his beer in hand.

“Wait, what?” Ellie asks.

“You guys are gonna sit here and sort this shit out.” She says, throwing on her coat. “Until then, me and Jesse are going somewhere else.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dina—“

“Don’t wanna hear it.” She states as Jesse opens the door for her. “The two of you are smart, figure it out. You can come find us when you’re done.”

“See you,” Is all Jesse says, before pulling the door shut.

You and Ellie look straight ahead.

What the fuck.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. You didn’t know what to do. Dina was obviously pissed, but being left alone with Ellie was the last thing you wanted.

It’s as if she could read your mind.

“Get out.”

You raise your brows. “Excuse me?”

“They left because you don’t know when to shut your mouth,” She says. “And I don’t wanna keep hearing it, so get out.”

Your previous desire to get up and walk out of the door suddenly disappears. You set your drink down.

“No.”

“What?”

“You don’t like me? Great.” You say, kicking your feet back. “I don’t like you either. But I’m not gonna do what you say, when you say it, every single fucking time.”

“Wow.” She takes a sip of beer. “You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes.”

Your eyes flash over to the brunette in less than a second. But she doesn’t budge. Just leans into the couch, legs spread.

“Ellie—“ You begin. “What the fuck is your problem with me?”

She smirks as if you said something funny.

“I’m serious. What the fuck is it?” You repeat, staring intently.

“Are you that dense?” She meets your gaze. “Your attitude. If you couldn’t tell, you have a serious attitude problem. Should really get it checked out.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Like you don’t have an attitude problem.”

“Yeah, but that’s me.”

“Oh,” You nod sarcastically. “Okay. Sure, yeah. Because that makes sense.”

“See? Again with the attitude.”

Silence fills the room as you bite your tongue. The fact that you felt the impulse to respond immediately kind of proved Ellie’s point.

It pissed you off that she was right. You did have a bit of an attitude problem with her. In your defense, she never leaves you alone. You get along just fine with everyone else.

You had given up. You were ready to just go home and tell Dina the truth later. But as you stand up, out of absolutely nowhere, Ellie says:

“It sucks, ‘cause you’re hot. It’s a shame you’ve gotta act like such a fuckin’ brat.”

Were your ears deceiving you? Did Ellie fucking Williams just say that?

You laugh it off and shake your head. “You are truly something else.”

“I’m being serious.” She replies. “You could just sit there and look pretty. Don’t know why you choose to be so damn annoying instead.”

“It would be so nice if you just learned when to shut up, Ellie.”

“You gonna make me?” She says, watching you. You sigh dramatically.

“Didn’t think so.”

The way she was toying with you made your skin run hot. You weren’t sure if she really meant what she said, or if she was just trying to get a rise out of you. Either way, her sweatpants and sports bra combo wasn’t helping; you could feel yourself getting worked up.

“What are you getting at?” You blurt out. “What are you trying to do?”

“I’m not trying to do anything,” She murmurs, looking down then back up again. “Are you?”

You laugh harshly. “What the hell makes you think that?”

“You’re an attention whore,” She answers. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

The way ‘whore’ rolled off of her tongue was so incredibly casual. And yet, you enjoyed the fact that she was saying it to you. Pigs must be flying. There was no way this was happening.

“I’m not a whore,” You stated.

“Oh?” She says coyly. “I didn’t call you a whore, I called you an attention whore. But you were quick to argue, so now I’m curious.”

You shift your weight to one leg. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Ellie.”

“Yeah? Then why are you still here?”

You felt your neck and ears become incredibly hot. Ellie leans forward, pushing herself up from the couch and faces you.

“I’d be flattered if you said it’s ‘cause you like me as a person, but we both know that’s not true.”

Her eyes were dazed and unwavering. It could’ve been the alcohol, but it also could’ve been the fact that your mini skirt had been riding up your thighs all night.

And as for you, you surprisingly weren’t repulsed. In fact, you liked seeing Ellie like this. If you were sober you might have dipped already, but your legs were heavy and your panties started to feel very constrictive.

“I think…” She begins walking closer. “That you want the exact same thing. You just act like you’re too good for it.”

You could feel your inhibition weakening. You drunkenly stare up at her. “You think I’m not?”

“I know you’re not.” She takes another step. You go to step back, but your heel hits the wall.

“I don’t blame Dina for trying, but we both know we’re not gonna make up.” Another step.

“No?” You whisper.

“Mm-mm.” Her nose was almost brushing up against yours, now.

The eye contact was unmatched. Ellie wasn’t budging, and neither were you.

“I fucking hate what you do to me,” You whispered against her lips.

She smirks. “I fucking love it.”

Immediately, her lips are engulfing yours, with so much damn fervor and need. You curled your fingers in her hair, and tugged down hard. You didn’t care if you hurt her — after all, she deserved it.

Ellie smiles into the kiss, pulling you in closer as a small grunt leaves her lips. Her legs cage you in against the wall as she forces her tongue into your mouth.

You hated her. You hated her. You hated her.

So how was it possible for her to make you feel so goddamn good?

Her hands begin grasping at the hem of your clothes with frustration.

“Fuck, baby.” She moans. “Take this shit off.”

You were compliant at this point; you merely slid your hands under your shirt and did what she said. Ellie presses her head against your chin, whispering a few more curses as she looks at your exposed breasts.

“So fucking hot,” She groans, pressing her lips to your neck. You whined out of pleasure as you pulled her hips closer to you.

“This is so embarrassing.” You mumble, shutting your eyes.

“Mm,” Ellie hums. “Seem to be handling it quite well, though.”

The brunette begins trailing her kisses downwards. You jump at the new sensation.

“Ellie—“

“Shh.” She murmurs, teething dangerously close to your nipple. “Gotta focus.”

When she latches on, your head immediately falls back. You’re practically speechless as she sucks and swirls her tongue around the hardened bud.

You wanted her to keep going, but you were worried. If Dina and Jesse caught you like this…

As for Ellie, she is absolutely shameless in the way she’s going in on your tits. It was clear that she had wanted to do this for a very long time — she was just being a complete ass about it.

She pulls away with a hard ‘pop’ before looking up at you with her green eyes. “Come here,” She says, grabbing your waist and pulling you down with her.

You gasp as the two of you land on the couch. Her hand quickly finds the back of your neck as she kisses you again, bucking gently against you. A soft moan escapes your lips as you pull back.

“What if Dina and Je—“

“Y/N,” She whispers, pulling her shirt over her head. “I’m in front of you, and I wanna fuck you. Please just shut up for once. Alright?”

You blush, looking down at her chest. Her nipples were poking out, hard as rocks. “You’re so fucking mean.”

“You’re fucking mean,” She says, smirking. “Depriving me of this for so damn long.”

“Didn’t think you wanted me,” You slur against her lips.

“Yeah, well… you are pretty fuckin’ annoying.” She huffs, as you lean in to kiss her again. As the minutes pass, you find yourself rolling your hips against hers.

“More,” You say quietly.

“Hm?”

“Want more of you, Ellie.” You sighed, nudging your fingertips under her waistband. “Please.”

She grins before sliding her sweatpants and underwear off. “Only because you said please.”

When your fingers drag down against her clit, she’s wet, and you absentmindedly moan. She sneers, staring up at you.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing, just… that was the sluttiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

You hum against her skin, gently rubbing your thumb against her hood. “I could be sluttier.”

“Oh yeah?” She responds, grazing her teeth against your jaw.

You drag your fingers from her pussy to your lips, gently engulfing them in your mouth. You keep your eyes on her as you suck her juices off, groaning at the sweet taste.

Ellie’s face becomes that of a pornstar. Her eyes are half-lidded, nearly rolling back as she stifles a moan.

“Holy fuck,” She says, biting down on her lip. Her gaze drops to your lower body, and she begins shoving the fabric of your skirt up.

“What are you doing?” You murmur, watching the skirt bunch around your waist.

“Not gonna waste anymore time,” She explains, tugging at your panties. “I fucking need this pussy.”

You help her remove the undergarment, letting it drop onto the floor. Her hands settle on your ass as you gently lift her leg, lining yourself up against her.

“Fuck yes,” She whispers, watching carefully as you gently slot your cunt against hers.

Her cunt was soft, and incredibly slick and sticky. It takes you a moment to get the right angle before you begin to get a rhythm going.

Once you start speeding up, Ellie practically loses it. She’s breathing like she can’t get enough air.

“Fuck yes.” She repeats, bringing her hand down onto your ass with a hard slap. Her eyes are closed as she scrunches her brows in pleasure. “Holy fucking shit.”

“God,” You moan, sloshing your pussy up against hers. “You’re so wet, Ellie.”

The room becomes one filled with wet noises and moaning. Ellie’s hands are grabbing at everything — your ass, your tits, the couch. She’s in euphoria, seeing stars as she tries not to black out.

“Goddamn,” She mutters. “So fucking good, baby. Doing so fucking good.”

You whimper at the praise, still trying to wrap your head around what was happening. Ellie had been your worst enemy for months, and here you were, bumping clits with her like a fucking slut.

“Shit—“ She grunts, pushing her head back. “I‘m close, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Already?” You joke. “That’s quick, don’t you think?”

She quickly opens her eyes and looks at you. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” You say slyly, slowing down ever so slightly.

She smacks your ass, hard. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

You slow down even more, grinning proudly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ellie.”

“Y/N, you better fucking finish me off.”

“But… ” You whisper in an innocent tone. “We’re having so much fun, right?”

“I swear to—“ She exhales vexedly before sinking her nails into your hips. “Fuck it.”

She sits up, grabbing you forcefully before pushing you down so you’ve switched places. Ellie props your leg up on her shoulder.

“Wanna be a fucking brat? Hm?” She whispers, bringing herself down on your cunt harshly.

You moan in response, goosebumps beginning to form on your arms. You place your hands on her abs, pushing slightly in an attempt to get her to let up.

“Ellie, ‘s too much.” You mewl, as she ruts her pussy against yours.

“Shut up,” She mumbles. “You can take it.”

She keeps you down as she fucks you, ramming herself against your cunt. The sloshing of your clits sends you into a spiral.

“Oh my god, Ellie,” You murmur. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” She grunts. “You like this?”

You nod, but Ellie places a sharp slap on your boob.

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yeah,” You stammer, trying to grasp reality as the only thing going through your mind is how good her pussy feels on yours.

She uses her hand and grabs your chin, tilting your head up. “You better not fucking cum until I do, you hear me?”

You nod again. “Y-Yes, Ellie.”

The way Ellie scissors is ruthless. She’s concentrated, hair sticking to her forehead as she stares down at you. She watches the way your tits bounce as she fucks herself on you, watching as you beg her to slow down.

Her teeth clench as she nears her orgasm. She looks up at the ceiling before dropping her head back down.

“Fuck, I’m, shit— ‘m getting close.”

“Yeah?” You murmur.

“Uh-huh.” You bring your hand up to her cheek as she maintains her rhythm.

“Wanna cum with you, Ellie. Wanna cum all over your fucking pussy.”

“Fuck,” She says through gritted teeth. “Fuck yes. Keep talking, just like that.”

Ellie knew she wasn’t very far off. But she figured she’d make the most of it, in case this was the last time she got to see you like this.

“So good, Ellie,” You say softly. “Your pussy feels so fuckin’ good.”

“Yeah?” She exhales.

“Mhm,” You murmur. “Best I’ve ever had.”

Ellie’s eyes roll into the back of her head, her moans becoming choppy. She gently holds your foot as she grinds her hips down faster.

As Ellie becomes wetter, you stiffen and feel your stomach tightening. You were getting really close, and she could feel it.

“Y/N,” She says. “I’m—“

“Me too—“ Is all you can say, before drawling out into a moan. Ellie rides you deep into your high, breathing sporadically as she cums, herself.

For a second, the two of you barely move, merely catching your breaths. But eventually your leg starts cramping, and you slide it off her shoulder.

“Holy fuck.” You whisper. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“I can.” Ellie says, slowly hopping off of you.

“You’re a liar.”

“How?” She says, leaning against the opposite end of the couch. “It was only a matter of time ‘til I got into your pants.”

“Oh,” You scoff. “So it was easy?”

“It was so easy.” She says, smiling. You look at the floor.

“Shut up.” You grin, reaching over to grab your clothes. You slowly put them back on as she copies you.

“Wanna go find Dina and Jesse now?” She questions, pulling her shirt over her head.

“I thought you said we couldn’t,” You say. “Since we weren’t gonna make up.”

“Mm, ‘cause we didn’t.” She states, cocking her head. “I need about three more rounds of this before we re-visit that topic.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You giggle, tossing your jacket at her. She laughs, putting her hands up to shield herself as it hits her.

“I’m kinda serious though,” She says. “You wanna give me head next time? Or…”

You smooth your hair down. “In your dreams, Williams.”

She looks around, contemplating for a moment. “Does that mean I give you head instead?”

“Ellie please shut up now.”

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally getting help (pt 2)

This one actually is edited thanks to @basementqueercock! Thank you friend!

part 1 | Masterpost

-------

Vlad had been making a stink at the Gala about the Wayne brats taking his godson from him without his permission when the music suddenly cut out. Bruce Wayne himself stalked towards Vlad with an expression that was honestly a little intimidating, even if Vlad obviously wasn’t scared of such an empty headed pretty boy even if he was one of the richest and most influential people on the planet. He was Plasmius! He could take a rich pretty boy is he had to!

“Ah! Mr. Wayne, thank goodness! Your children have taken my Godson off somewhere! I’m sure it’s just a harmless prank but he’s a bit fragile and unpredictable so I really think that it would be best if-“

“Is he fragile and unpredictable because he’s pregnant and you knew?” Bruce asked low and dangerous. Silence spread out around them, even though there’s no way they could have heard they saw the look on Brucie’s face. He rarely got angry but when he did it was serious, when he did it usually meant someone had hurt a kid.

Vlad blanched for a moment, Danny had been so tight lipped about it, so unwilling to tell even those he trusted how did These people know?! “What? What on earth are you talking about? Of course he’s not pregnant, I mean he’s a boy!” Vlad huffed and Bruce’s jaw tightened even more somehow.

“He’s not leaving with you. Get out.” He said low and menacing, then raised his voice. “Sorry to cut the party short everyone but something has come up, a situation that really needs my attention so I’m going to have to put an end to the party early.”

“What do you mean!? He’s MY God son! MY heir! You can’t just keep him from me!” Vlad said, he knew that his eyes were starting to glow a little red but he couldn’t help it. “He’s MINE! Return him to me or you will regret it I swear!”

“See him out.” Bruce said dismissively to a handful of guards who had approached at the start of the commotion A lot of the socialites were already starting to see themselves out, now was not the time to argue, or even stick around when it looked like this might get physical.

“I will be back! I will be back with lawyers and police and the brat’s parents,” Vlad vowed but couldn’t risk fighting the guards any more than a usual old man would on the way out with so many eyes on him. Well he just needed to find a place alone. Then he could transform and come back, possess Bruce Wayne and make him do something heinous in public to ruin him for this.. this- this INDIGNITY!

-------

Bruce was having a hard time keeping his Batman expressions off his face as he saw that everyone was out of his house and he knew his children were having the same trouble. Dick looked like he was ready to bash someone’s head in and Steph wasn’t that much better. Damian was standing by the door, seeing everyone out with frosty politeness that no one would mistake as genuine. Bruce felt just a little bad, it wasn’t anyone’s fault what they had found tonight. No one else knew about the clearly abused teen they were currently harbouring, but none of the family could help it either. Bruce would send all the guests gift baskets once they could announce what was going on.

Alfred was on the phone with Bruce’s lawyers, sending them the mildly distorted audio from Danny’s earlier conversation with Cas and Dick, and the footage from Vlad Master’s outburst. That had the same sort of distortion over it too which was odd, he’d have to look into it. Cas had already informed him she thought Danny was a meta of some sort, maybe it was connected to that? Or maybe they were aliens? Though Danny being trans was currently the most plausible explanation for his pregnancy. They’d find out more later. What mattered was the footage of both of those would be enough for Bruce to get emergency custody while the family was investigated. 

Tim was with Danny in the room Alfred had fixed for him, helping him settle in and lending him some clothes. Tim was the closest to Danny’s age and also one of the calmer ones right now so he was in charge of trying to make Danny feel safe and comfortable while the family took up battle stations to deal with the legal and logistical elements of this.

Bruce made sure everyone was out, the perimeter was secure, and Oracle was at her computer watching the security feed for anything suspicious including the pattern of distortion Vlad and Danny seemed to emit. He wasn’t sure how paranoid he should be about all this, but he’d seen the way Vlad’s eyes sparked red when he was angry and Batman was sure he was a lot more dangerous then he first seemed. And not just in the way that he was apparently willing to impregnate a boy young enough to be his son.

Finally he couldn’t avoid going to check on Danny anymore. Not that he was Really avoiding it, just that he knew this was going to be an exhausting and difficult conversation and he needed to brace himself for it. With every step towards Danny’s new room he felt the weight gather on his shoulders of what this child must have been through.

He knocked, and let himself in. Immediately clocking the way Danny tensed at the sight of him. Of course a rich older man would set off his alarm bells. Bruce gave the softest smile he could and went to pull out the desk chair across from the bed Danny was sitting on, well out of arms reach so he wouldn’t seem like a threat as he sat down. He glanced at Tim who nodded and went and sat on the bed next to Danny. Solidarity, willing to stand up against Bruce if Danny needed it, safety.

“Hello Danny, it’s nice to meet you. My children told me a bit about.. your situation,” Bruce said with a small grimace. “Would you mind if I ask you some questions? I promise I won’t judge you whatever you say, and I promise I am on your side. No matter what I will try to keep you safe okay? Just tell me the truth, it’ll help me do what needs to be done.”

“Alright Mr. Wayne,” Danny said, though he was still wary.

“Thank you, please call me Bruce. So first, what’s your full name?” he asked deciding to start super easy.

“Daniel James Fenton,” Danny replied softly.

“Your parents names?”

“Doctors Madeline and Jack Fenton,” Huh the fact that he called his parents doctor like it was part of their name seemed to be significant though Bruce wasn’t sure exactly what it meant.

“How old are you?”

“I’m 16,” He said. A little older than he looked but still no where near old enough to have the weight of the world on his shoulders like he did.

“And you’re pregnant?” Bruce asked as gently as he could, Danny nodded. “And you’re sure?”

“Yes,” Danny said softly and Bruce nodded, licking his lips a little.

“Did you take a test then?” He asked and Danny grimaced making a so so motion.

“It’s not… that simple,” He said softly.

“Can you explain it to me please?” Bruce asked softly.

Danny took a deep breath and licked his lips, hesitating, opening his mouth to stat, hesitating again and biting his lip. Bruce stayed quiet as he watched the conflict on Danny’s face. “You work with the justice league right?” Danny asked suddenly which seemed like a bit of a non sequitur to Bruce but he needed. “A bunch of the members aren’t human right?” Ah, Bruce nodded again. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course I am Danny,” Bruce promised, soft and reassuring. “People don’t have to be human or from earth to be people. Whatever is going on with you you’re still a person, and a kid, and deserve to be protected.”

“Okay,” Danny said as he scrutinized Bruce’s body language for any sign that he was lying. “Okay. I’ve never been able to trust any adults with this shit but I can’t keep doing this on my own so okay. I’m not human, not fully anyway, not anymore. These are..” He touched his stomach. “Like if you did an ultrasound you wouldn’t see embryos more like… Hang on Here.”

Bruce blinked as Danny suddenly, reached Inside himself, and before he could panic Danny had pulled out a perfectly round object that filled his palm. It shimmered with light from within, cold and sparkling with stars. “Our kind is more energy and light then anything else. This is Us, the mind, heart, everything we are is stored in our core the rest is formed around that. I mean for most of my kind, I’m still half human.” Danny said before replacing the orb inside him. “I have two other little cores inside me right now, feeding on my energy to develop properly, you could see them on an Xray. I don’t know how long they’ll take honestly.” He sighed caressing his stomach again.

 “But I can feel them inside me, I can feel their worry when I’m scared, and their joy when I’m happy, and their love. They’re my babies.” He said with the softest most paternal smile on his lips. The bags under his eyes were awful, he was clearly exhausted and stressed, but his expression told Bruce Danny thought it was all going to be worth it for his children. It brought a lump to his throat he had to clear before he could speak again.

“Okay, do you have access to healthcare appropriate for your.. species?” He asked and Danny nodded. Though he was tight lipped still.

“There are protections for non-human species in America you know,” Tim said.

Bruce and Tim exchanged a confused look as Danny barked a laugh. “Not for MY kind, we were specifically excluded,” He said with a wry curl to his lips. “The shadow or echo left behind when a proper human dies, not sentient or sapient they say. Malicious and dangerous they say. To be captured or exterminated on sight. They would take me, experiment on me, probably put my babies in jars or something.”

Oh, oh fuck, he was shaking, eyes blank and glassy like he was heading towards a panic attack. “Danny! Danny look at me,” Bruce said as he leaned forward and Danny’s gaze flicked up to his face. “I don’t know who ‘they’ are but I promise I will do everything in my power to make sure they don’t get you. You’re clearly not what they say, and anyone who would hurt a child is not the good guy in this story.”

“Who are they?” Tim asked with an expression that promised swift and vicious retribution.

Danny took another deep breath. “The GIW, the Ghost Investigation Ward. They’re a government agency, they’ve been hunting in my hometown for a while. Early on we tried to call the Justice Legue, but I think they were jamming the lines or something,” Danny said looking down and biting his lip.

Fuck this poor kid really couldn’t catch a break! Bruce was sure that the ‘ghosts’ these idiots were hunting weren’t really anything of the sort, but he would look into this and see what he could find. Tim was clearly itching to as well bad he wasn’t willing to leave Danny alone with Bruce, good lad.

“And what about your parents? Do you think you could be safely returned to their home?” Bruce asked, as much as he wanted to keep Danny reunification was supposed to be the goal of fostering.

“No!” Danny nearly yelped sitting up straight. “No! They work for the GIW! They design most of their weapons. If they ever found I’d been contaminated- I don’t want to think the worst of them but even if they still recognized me as their son the babies-“ He cut off, wrapping both his arms around his stomach and curling in on himself.

“Okay, we’ll call child protective services, my lawyer, and the Justice League. We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Bruce promised Danny. “And you can stay here as long as you need to. Is there any other family you would want to go to?” Bruce asked, just to be sure, but he wasn’t surprised when Danny shook his head and grabbed a pillow to hug.

“And I know Oracle and Red Robin will be itching to find out more about this ‘government agency’,” Tim said. “I want to go tell them Danny, if Bruce and I go will you be okay on your own or do you want me to ask Cas to come stay with you?”

“Cas please? If she’s not busy?” Danny asked uncertainly and Tim nodded. Bruce was getting up before Danny spoke up again. “I have a sister, Jazz. She knows about me not being fully human, but not about the babies. She’s a good person, and she’s almost an adult. I don’t know, I just need you to know she’s good, and I don’t want to mess things up for her,” Danny said worriedly.

“Of course Danny, thanks for letting me know,” Bruce said with a smile already making plans to get her out as well. “We’ll let you know as soon as there are developments.” He promised before both he and Tim ducked out. They split up, Tim going to find Cas and ask her to go back to Danny before they reconvened in the bat cave, they had a lot of research to do.

next>

[dudeitiskarev]

I Want to Hold Your Hand | Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader

Summary: Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you.

Word count: 2.4k.

Tags/warnings: hurt/little comfort; season 1 Hotch my beloved <3; canon typical violence; Haley and Jack don’t exist in this universe oopsies; angst with happy ending; Hotch is a baby; probably very inaccurate medical talk bc all I know is from Grey’s; not beta read + English isn’t my first language so good luck with that.

Author’s note: remember when I said I was probably done writing for a Hotch? Turns out all I had to do was stop taking my antidepressant 🙄 anyway, don’t get your hopes high. I just needed to take a break from my never-ending Spence fic so I wrote this. Which is basically a rewrite of what happened with Elle. I just wanted to make Hotch suffer a little so I hope you like it!

MASTERLIST

A few hours ago, Aaron kissed the top of your head and sent you back to the hotel with a police officer.

Now, he was in a hospital waiting room with his heart in his throat, hoping the doctor would show up with good news.

You’d been attacked in your hotel room, and it was his fault.

“They’re gonna set up a bed for you in her room.” Jason walked in with a cup of coffee for Aaron. His fourth one already.

“She’s… not out of surgery yet,” Aaron shut his eyes. “We don’t know if —”

“The hospital chief, I know him.” Gideon sort of smiled. “I asked him if he could go check on her. All I know is that they’re closing her up now.”

The words began to sound far and faded as if Aaron was underwater. His vision blurred and his legs would’ve given up if he wasn’t sitting down already.

It was his soul returning to his body.

He didn’t want to get his hopes high, though. If they were closing you up it meant you were alive, but nothing else. There could be a hundred things wrong with you while being alive.

All he could do was nod and put his hands together over his lips like a prayer.

You were alive.

“The doctor should be here with the updates any minute now.” Jason sat next to Aaron and gave him a gentle tap on his back.

Gideon knew. Even when Hotch hadn’t told anyone about his feelings—not even you—he spent most of his day with profilers so of course the best one in his team knew about it.

“I’m heading back to the hotel soon,” Gideon continued. “See what the hell happened. Why… How did they let the unsub enter her room. Garcia should be landing soon. We need to check every security camera.” He smacked his tongue in disappointment and shook his head.

Aaron rose from his seat and tried his best to at least let his shoulders relax but every bit of him had turned into concrete.

“Where are Reid and Morgan?” He asked, pacing back and forth and stretching his neck from one side to the other. Even in moments like this, he needed to know where the rest of his people were. Especially in moments like this.

“Back at the local PD,” Gideon answered.

“JJ?”

“She’s talking to the hotel manager, making sure none of the employees makes any declaration to the press before we catch the guy.”

Aaron nodded, and soon, the doctor walked into the room with the updates.

“Surgery was a success,” he began. “We managed to repair all the damage and save her lung. Now, she flatlined once in the ambulance and then again during surgery so her brain has been through a lot.”

It wasn’t the time to profile anyone, but the way the doctor couldn’t keep eye contact for longer than two seconds told Aaron he was aiming at something more serious.

“Just tell us.” Aaron rubbed his thumb with his fingers.

“She’s not breathing on her own yet and according to her EEG, her last exam, her brain is swollen. It may take her a while to wake up.” The doctor gulped. “If she wakes up.”

Aaron’s entire world crumbled once again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and walked to a corner to pull himself together.

This was his fault. You might never wake up and it was his fault.

“When can we see her?” Gideon asked for him.

“You can see her now but… you need to be prepared. A machine is breathing for her. There’s a tube down her throat and it might be a lot to look at.”

Just picturing you like that turned his stomach upside down.

God, if you don’t ever wake up—

“She’s gonna wake up.” Penelope’s voice entered the room and so did the light she carried everywhere.

She was one of Aaron’s comfort people. If Penelope was there, there was hope.

“Garcia,” Jason said in a don’t tone.

“She’s strong.” Penelope walked up to Hotch anyway. “And people wake up from comas. Miracles happen and—” Her eyes filled with tears once she touched Hotch’s arm to get his attention. “She needs us, she needs you. And we need her.”

Garcia also knew, apparently. And if she knew without being a profiler, everyone else knew.

“I found this.” She handed Hotch a Polaroid picture of you. You were leaning on Garcia’s desk, your arms folded over your chest and with your sweet, sweet smile. There was the hope. “I took it a while ago and kept it on my desk along with the others but…”

Aaron took it with a shaky hand. You were mesmerizing.

“García,” Gideon insisted.

A nurse interrupted to let them know they could see you now.

“You go,” Gideon said to Hotch, taking a step back. “Just call me if anything changes. Garcia, you’re coming with me.”

“Yes, sir.” Penelope gave Hotch one last hopeful smile before following Jason out.

Aaron looked at your photo again and took deep breaths to gather himself as walked to the endless hall that took him to you.

“We’ll set up your bed in a few.” The nurse smiled at him, gesturing for him to go in. “She looks good. It might not look like it because of all the machines but she’s doing good. She’s a strong woman.”

Aaron said a quiet thanks before the nurse left.

It was just you and him.

The steady beeping of the machine brought him a sense of comfort—it meant you were alive—yet his feet were hesitant to take him next to you. He stood at the door for a moment, watching you from afar.

As the doctor had said, it was a lot to look at. It reminded him of the last time he saw someone close to him like this: his father. The difference was that back then, he couldn’t wait for his dad to die.

Today, he’d found himself praying multiple times to a god he wasn’t even sure existed most times.

He dared to move and when he reached your side, he almost crumbled. You had a few bruises on your left cheek, your knuckles were split—you even had a broken finger, and you looked beautiful as ever. He wished he could see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, catch you smiling at him.

Guilt brewed at the pit of his stomach again. He should’ve gone with you. He should’ve been with you.

He lifted one hand to stroke your head and tears welled up as soon as his skin touched yours. His chin quivered and he sniffled quietly as tears threatened to spill. He used the heel of his hands to dry them away. He couldn’t cry, even if you were in a coma and couldn’t see him like this—broken. You believed people’s energy had effects on others, and you needed him to be strong. He needed to be more like you.

His bed was set soon after, right next to you. His eyes were heavy, and his muscles were sore. Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to lie down. He was scared to close his eyes. What if you died while he was asleep? He stayed sitting down, holding your hand and never losing sight of you.

“It’s raining,” he said out loud, talking to you. “Every time it rains I think of you.”

He smiled at the memories. You’d shown up at his office for your interview drenching, and he was smitten from the very first moment he laid eyes on you.

“Agent Hotchner,” your perky voice caught him off guard. No one inside the BAU building was perky—besides Garcia.

You stood by the door, both hands behind your back waiting for his signal to come in.

“Please.” He gestured with his hand to the seat across from him.

He took half a second to study you quickly. Raindrops were gathered over the shoulders of your blazer and your mascara was a bit smudged under your eyes.

“Forgot your coat, agent?” He commented, peeling his eyes off you and reading through your resume.

“Didn’t think I’d be raining by the time I arrived, sir. I don’t keep an umbrella in my car either. I apologize for my… appearance.”

It wasn’t your appearance that got you on his team, it was your outstanding resume. It made him wonder why you chose to apply to the Behavioral Analysis Unit instead of staying at ViCAP. Your performance there was impeccable.

“I wasn’t feeling comfortable there anymore,” was your answer. “And I want to seek other paths, sir. And I know I’m a good fit for your team.”

You started the very next day, and he partnered up with you to keep an eye on you during your first cases. You were a quick thinker, were fast on your feet, and stayed calm under critical situations.

Not once he felt at a disadvantage in the field for working with the new kid, which only showed him how good you naturally were. He was drawn to you and it wasn’t just because of your professionalism.

It was your fast food order. It was the first joke you ever made that only made him laugh. It was your perfume, the way you spoke with your hands, and how you raised your brows when making a point.

Everything about you made him take a deep breath. You made him dizzy. Lightheaded. Drunk.

Exactly how he felt right now while holding your hand, except that now, the room was spinning at the mere thought of losing you.

“I love you,” he murmured, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised knuckles with shaky lips. “I love you.”

He’d never said it before. He didn’t know he did until now.

“God, I love you so much. From the moment I saw you, you lit up my life. You made it better, made me better.” He kept talking to you, hoping that his voice would heal everything inside you. “I can’t lose you. I won’t make it.”

Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up.

The rain stopped, the hours passed, and the sun never came out.

It’d been two weeks and he’d already made the habit of reading you at night.

“Studies have shown that playing music they really like and talking to the person in a coma increases their chances of waking up,” Spencer had said the day the entire team came to visit you.

Most nights he read case files. Others, he liked to read poetry.

You still hadn’t woken up, but the music, the poetry, and the flowers didn’t stop.

“I hope you don’t mind if I read something by Neruda,” Aaron said as he sat on the chair next to you. “Maybe not Neruda.”

It was one of those nights where hope had watered down with his tears.

He put the book down next to you and held your hand. He hadn’t stopped holding your hand; he hadn’t stopped kissing it either. He sighed deeply and stood up to draw the blinds, turning his back to you.

A loud smack against the floor startled him, making him turn around. The book he’d left next to you had fallen. He didn’t think he’d left it at the edge of the bed, but he picked it up without much curious and went to put it where it was.

Your hand twitched when he grazed your knuckles casually.

Then it twitched again—harsher—and a soft whimper came from your chest. That sound definitely came out of your body.

Aaron was quick to check on you, towering over you and watching you closely. Your eyelids started to move and the next thing he knew, he was making eye contact with you.

Those beautiful twinkling eyes took his breath away.

“We need a doctor in here!” He was quick to react, pressing the call button.

Nurses stormed inside and moved him out of the way to assist you.

“She’s awake. She’s fighting the tube,” was all he heard before a thousand tingles rushed through him.

You were awake.

Your doctor arrived soon after to examine you and Aaron stood there as they took the tube out.

You coughed and writhed with discomfort.

“Can you tell me your name?” Your doctor moved a small flashlight in front of your eyes.

You blinked a few times and searched around the room. Your eyes landed on Aaron. “Hotch?”

Your soft voice traveled to him and enveloped his heart, mending every bit that was broken.

“Hi,” he merely said.

You shook your head and said your name instead. Your doctor asked some more questions like your birthday, where you worked at and what was the last thing you remembered, and the entire time your eyes were trained on Aaron.

“It’s vague.” You took a sharp breath. “I think I was attacked but I don’t know how. I can assume by this unglued scar, though.” You put your palm on your chest.

“We’re still going to do some tests,” Your doctor said. “But you’re great. Pupils are responsive, your lungs sound healthy and there are no signs of brain damage. No memory loss. No speech loss either.”

“How soon can she go home?” Aaron asked, taking another step closer. He finally stood by your side, and you reached for his hand.

This was you. Sweet and caring even at your worst.

“I’d like to keep her under observation for a couple of days, then she can go. But just so you know, you can’t fly for at least two weeks after open-chest surgery.”

The doctor gave you some other indications before leaving, then it was just the two of you as it’d been for the past two weeks. Though now he got to see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, and catch you smiling at him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.

“I sent you away and—“ he raised his brows.

“Don’t.” You squeezed his hand. “Don’t do that. Don’t… blame yourself.”

“I should’ve come with you. I should’ve— god, you almost died. You almost died,” he repeated in a whisper, shutting his eyes with pain.

The guilt was still there.

“But I didn’t.”

“I was so scared,” he admitted, daring to look back at you.

“I… don’t remember much. Just bits and pieces but I do remember that I wasn’t scared. I think. I… channeled you at that moment.” You laughed. “I remember thinking, Hotch wouldn’t be scared, he would put up a fight, so I did. I fought the guy, which got me almost killed but I wasn’t scared.” You lifted your hand and cradled his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “You have a beard.”

He chuckled. “Barely.”

“It looks good. I like it.”

He didn’t like it much, but he was grateful it was there so you wouldn’t see how hard he was blushing. He poured you some water and handed it you to distract himself from it.

“Where are we?” You then asked, taking a sip from the straw.

“Seattle.” Aaron raised his brows while licking his lips.

Last time you two were in Seattle, you’d kissed for the first time.

“Oh,” you mirrored his smirk. “So that’s gonna be like a three-day road trip back to Quantico?”

“It’s either that or two more weeks in Seattle until you can fly there,” he responded.

“Both sound amazing, don’t you think?” you scanned his face up and down and heat rushed to his cheeks again. “Thank you for staying with me, Aaron.”

I love you, he thought.

“How could I not?” he said instead.

Never said there would be a love confession now did I 🤭 But don’t worry, hotch confesses his love during the road trip <33333 also the title is a The Beatles song bc he played The Beatles a lot while reader was in a coma. And bc he held her hand a lot.

I hope you liked it!!!!

[itiswormtimebaby]

Here’s what I’m thinking about: Bucky finds out you’ve never been eaten out and takes that personally. 

Gif does NOT represent readers physical appearance, but just look at that tongue

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Bug (+ Brother’s best friend Bucky, plus sized fem reader) CW: Explicit, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, rimming (vague), demanding Bucky but everyone’s into it, Bucky’s mouth, virgin reader

“What the fuck did you just say?” Bucky looks up at you incredulously from where he lays between your spread legs, chin poking into the soft flesh of your stomach, his favorite pillow as of late. You were just so goddamn soft, he couldn’t get over it. 

“How is that news to you? You know I’m-”

“A virgin, not a saint. You’ve dated!” Coming from anyone else it would’ve sounded like an accusation but Bucky was truly just confused, how could someone have access to your body not have their face buried in your sweet pussy twenty-three hours a day? Hell, he’d only licked your essence off his fingers and he was already hooked. You gave a short shrug in response, not sure what to say.

“What about that guy Steve caught you with?” 

“Ew! Never speak of that, he had to bleach his eyes and I had to bleach my brain.” Normally your dramatics would’ve at least earned you a playful eye roll or indulgent chuckle but he was too distraught to offer even that, suddenly rising to his knees, back straight as he loomed over your still prone form. 

“You’re seriously telling me that jackass didn’t reciprocate? None of them did?” 

Again, unsure of how to respond you just offer him a small shrug. 

“Bug, take your goddamn pants off right now.” His tone is deadly serious, eyes blazing. He genuinely looks upset by this new information. 

“BUCKY!” 

“Now or I’m ripping them off.” 

You’re quick to arch your lower back off the bed, rushing so Bucky won’t ruin your favorite leggings, his calloused fingers joining yours in yanking the waistband down over the swell of your stomach and hips before he’s throwing them over his shoulder. As soon as you’re bared to him he drops back to his stomach, rough hands pushing your thighs apart, wasting no time in nosing at your clit. Your mortified to hear him deeply inhale, but it’s quickly lost in a wave of arousal as he begins to talk, seemingly to himself; “Can’t believe no one’s ever tasted this beautiful cunt. Fucking losers. It’s mine now” Filth continues to pour from his mouth between wet open mouthed kisses to your thighs, he alternates between biting and sucking at the soft flesh, before chasing a trail of slick from between your ass cheeks back up to your weeping hole. 

You’d never understood the phrase “he ate pussy like a man starved” until now. It was like Bucky was truly trying to devour you, tongue lapping at your achingly empty opening, a perverse parallel to how he kissed you. His tongue consistently moved over your soaking flesh, licking from one hole to the other before darting back up to your clit, suckling on it as he fucked you on a finger, making you beg for a second. The cycle continued until you were spiraling towards oblivion, his left hand reaching towards you, allowing you to lock your fingers together while your other hand twisted tightly in his hair and his continued to fuck in and out of you, now up to three fingers. 

You hear what vaguely sounds like “tastes so fucking good.” And your name, your actual name, not Bug, before you're using your grip on his hair to press him further into your cunt, grinding against him as you ride out the most intense orgasm of your life so far. Nearly spirally into a second when you come back down to earth and feel his jaw working against your overstimulated cunt as he does his best to drink in your juices. 

He pulls back just long enough to peer up at you, the entire lower half of his face soaked in your slick; “their loss.”

[caelivir]

hidden lights | rayne ames

— synopsis. reading rayne ames is impossible. that's why you don't get why he offers to take you out on a date after you've been stood up again.

— pairing. rayne ames x fem!reader

— genres. modern au, you and rayne are roommates, fluff, you’re so oblivious it hurts, rayne's most likely ooc towards the end but we do it for plot,

— warnings. one kys thrown in at the end but it’s not in a serious manner

— word count. 3.2k

— notes. in honor of triple liner rayne being animated. i have quite literally been waiting to see it animated for years. also hi.

you can never tell what rayne ames is thinking. he wears the same cold, uninterested glare on his face at all times of the day. he never speaks unless spoken to, never lets you know when he leaves the apartment, never does anything to show that he actually has emotions.

you're asked on the daily how you survive rooming with him, and in all honesty, it's really not that bad. he does his half of the chores, and he doesn't leave his shit all over the apartment. really, the guy's only problem is his lack of emotion. it drives you up the wall.

finn says not to take it to personally during the one day he visited his brother. apparently, he's like that with everyone, but he's still a good guy. it just takes time.

you would like to believe that, but rayne makes that extremely difficult to believe when he looks like he wants to kill every person who so happens to exist in his direction.

so naturally, seeing him so angered after finding out that you've been stood up is surprising. it's an even bigger shock when he offers to take you out on a date instead.

you don't know what compels you to agree. even if you hadn't accepted his offer, something tells you that rayne would've found a way to get you to leave with him so there's no use in trying to deny him in this matter.

that's why you allow him to drive all the way to marchétte street, where a night market is being held in full swing. the road has all sorts of stalls lined up one after the other, ranging from foods to clothes. but because the marchétte night market is ridiculously popular, the place is packed to the brim with people.

rayne offers his hand once he notices that you're daunted by the crowds. you stare at him with surprise. when you don't make a move to accept this action, rayne huffs before grabbing your hand. he interlocks his fingers with yours and drags you into marchétte street's traffic.

the first thing you note is that rayne's hands are surprisingly warm and soft. for someone so incapable of talking, his touch is strangely reassuring.

he drags you to a vendor selling takoyaki. and even as he orders, rayne doesn’t let go of your hand.

“what do you want?” he says into your ear so that he doesn’t have to yell over all the noise. the feeling of his breath fanning over your skin sends shivers down your spin. it's maddening.

“oh. uh-” your eyes quickly scan over the menu, and you blurt out the first item that you read. out of habit you reach for your wallet, but rayne is quick to shut you down.

“absolutely not.” he grumbles, letting your hand drop to your side so he can pull out his cash. rayne hands the amount to the girl at the register, and she hands back his change that he drops into the tip jar.

“thanks.” you say quietly, still so flustered about the entire situation.

rayne only studies you before humming in acknowledgement. “come on.” he guides his hand to your upper back, moving you out the way so you can wait on the side for your orders.

it’s during this time you really look at rayne as if that would provide you with the answers you need to understand him. you try to wrap your head around it. you draft up every possible explanation, but none of them seem to make sense.

unless… it couldn’t be… does rayne like you? you shake your head, dismissing the thought as soon as it crosses your mind. no, that’s absurd, the furthest thing from logical. this is rayne ames we’re talking about. in the five months that you’ve been living together, you two have never had a solid conversation. how could he ever like someone he’s barely talked to?

you're about to confront rayne about his intentions until your number order is called, and all the courage you built up crumbles away as rayne leaves you to go pick up your takoyaki.

still, whatever his reasons for doing this may be, this is a rare opportunity to come by, and that means that maybe rayne doesn't have to continue being a stranger. maybe you can get under those layers and find that good guy finn said was there.

"i never knew marchétte had a night market." you say, breaking the silence as the two of you walk side by side through the market.

"i didn't either." rayne admits, poking his fork into one of the octopus balls, and shoving the whole thing into his mouth.

"what?" your face scrunches in disbelief. "then how'd you find out?"

"i asked finn as we were going down to the garage." your date shares nonchalantly.

you turn to look at rayne with the intent of questioning him further, but the sight of his cheeks bulging with food makes you burst out in a fit of giggles.

"what?" rayne asks, narrowing his eyes at you. you bite your lip to contain your laughter. your gaze falls on a mixture of crumbs and sauce that sits on the corner of his mouth, only causing you to smile wider.

"you got a little something there." you gesture at his lips. rayne fumbles for a moment, swiping his fingers around various sections of his mouth, somehow only cleaning half of the mess up.

you shake your head, still grinning up at him. he tenses when your thumb grazes the edges of his lips. you can feel his eyes staring deep into you, and you have to ignore the way it makes your stomach flip.

"all done." you whisper, wiping the remainders on the napkin in your hand.

rayne doesn't say anything regarding what occurred, only urging you to follow him further down marchétte street.

you swear that you see the tips of his ears go red, and something about that makes you all fuzzy inside.

as the night progresses, you and rayne abide your time by visiting stalls. well, it's more like you choose which ones interest you the most, and rayne follows behind. you comment on certain items that look nice; sometimes, you ask for your roommate's opinions to decide on whether something will be worth your money or not. to your surprise, rayne's advice is solid, and you end up listening to him.

at some point, you convinced him to buy a pair of absurdly looking mugs for the apartment. he fought you hard on it, saying that a mug shaped like a fish is extremely inconvenient, but in the end, you won with insistent begging.

when the two of you both got bored of the market, you decide to take rayne to one of your favorite spots in the city.

"the park? really?" rayne gives you a dead stare.

"hey, don't judge." you pout. "i love this place."

"why? no offense, but i don't think parks are all that special."

"i feel like i can take a step back here and just a catch a break from everything," you answer honestly. "sometimes, i sit down and watch people as they live their lives, and something about that is strangely comforting. it makes me want to keep going."

rayne doesn't follow up on your words, but you can tell that he's really considering them, and that brings a smile onto your face.

"plus, i feel like it's a good place for when you want to talk to someone." you grab onto your roommate's wrist. "come on let's go to the swings."

you practically drag rayne to the playground, which is completely deserted, but that's to be expected when it's already 10p.m. no parent would be dumb enough to bring their kid out this late.

you force rayne onto the the swing next to you, and all he does is sit there, unwilling to indulge himself in such a simple joy. annoyed with him, you hop off your own set, coming behind him.

"what are you doing?" rayne whips his head around as your hands plant themselves firmly on his back.

"oh live a little." you huff, mustering up enough strength to push him. the swing rocks forwards and comes back. even as rayne complains and threatens you, you continue to push him, watching as he goes higher and higher. he may be masking it, but you can tell that he's enjoying it.

you finally give up when your arms grow sore and a layer of sweat coats your face. slumping back into the swing beside rayne, you breathe heavily. "man, that was a workout."

"i told you to stop." your date reminds you, shooting you a look.

"you can be honest, rayne. i know you liked it."

"i did not."

"yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that." you wave him off, laughing.

for a minute, neither of you say anything. you're the one who said that the park is a place where you can talk openly with someone, yet there's not a single topic that you can think to bring up.

luckily, rayne swoops in to save it. "can i ask you something?" your half-blonde roommate asks, something more serious laced in his voice. it makes you swallow a lump in your throat. an anxious feeling creeps into your body.

"of course you can."

"why did you bother giving that guy a chance?"

it's easy to know exactly who he's referring to. you shrug. "he's nice and has good energy."

"but he had stood you up two times in the past though. clearly he isn't as nice as you make him out to be. you seriously can't be that dumb to have fallen for it three times."

that statement in itself should get you mad (even though he would be right), but there's something peculiar in what he said that had you ignoring the jab altogether. "how'd you know he stood me up twice before? i never told you that."

at that, rayne freezes, eyes blowing wide open. it's so obvious that he's trying to find an excuse right now, but you push further.

"who told you that, rayne?" you lean closer, watching as his ears turn beet red. you're not even angry with him. it's mostly curiosity making you push him. not to mention that seeing him in a flustered state is entertaining and quite cute.

"max did." your roommate finally admits albeit quietly.

you pull your head back. "max? as in max land? how the hell does he know?"

"your dates happened to be at the restaurant he works at."

"why would he bother telling you that though?" you wonder. "up until tonight, i don't think it concerned you."

"it did though." the half-blonde mumbles, thinking you wouldn't hear, but you do anyway.

"what?" you press.

"forget it." rayne shakes his head, growing irritated.

"no. fuck that.." you seethe, annoyed at his unwillingness to be honest with you. rayne bites his tongue to hold back. you see it. "don't act like this. just tell me, or i swear to god i'll text max right now-"

"it's because i knew that i could treat you better." the words rush out of rayne's mouth as he snaps his head toward you. the fire in his eyes die as he locks his gaze onto you. the harsh emotion written across his features softens. you can feel your own exasperation slipping away like that of a retreating ocean tide. he grimaces in regret, knowing that he didn't mean to let that slip out, but he did anyway. it's out in the open, and now you knew.

surely, you're hearing things wrong. perhaps you're misunderstanding what he just said. how could that be misinterpreted though? it's such a painfully straightforward statement, yet it still doesn't make any sense.

rayne sighs. it's like he can already hear your thoughts and your confusion. the least he can do is clear the air and dump everything onto you while he can. "i didn't expect to feel like this," he begins to explain. "when i moved in, i just assumed you'd be another person i wouldn't pay attention to. i'm sure you know how i am. i don't bother getting to know people, but a lot of people feel the need to force themselves into my life, and shit like that pisses me off. but you didn't do that. you introduced yourself, explained the ground rules of the apartment, and then left me alone."

"so... you like the fact that i leave you alone?" you tilt your head.

"shut up. let me finish."

"okay."

"but yeah, that's part of it. you keep your distance, but you still try to show that you care. you don't do anything groundbreaking. it's just that the small things you do for me got to me. it may sound dumb to you, but it meant a lot to me."

suddenly, you're hit like a train because you know exactly what rayne means. you recall all the times you ensured that there was dinner for him, the times you moved his laundry into the dryer when he forgot to do it himself, and the times you restocked his favorite snacks when they ran out. you hadn't realized that you did any of that. it just came naturally, no hidden meaning behind it.

"oh." you breathe out, blinking.

rayne nods, continuing. you're honestly floored over the fact that he still has more to say. "you don't notice it. at least, i don't think you do, but at some point, i tried doing the same for you. i started paying more attention to you and what you liked and how you liked things done. i did it mostly to pay back your kindness, but over time i continued just 'cause i liked seeing your smile."

you have to process that for a minute, piecing together how certain events lined up until it finally clicks into place. "s-so the island vase-"

"i replace the flowers because you like them fresh."

"the key holder?"

"you always forgot to bring your keys until i installed it."

"when you put on movies-"

"i check your letterboxd and hope that you'll sit and watch them with me."

"when i put on movies-"

"i sit with you because i want to be near you."

your jaw falls open. never in a million years could you have expected this. you thought that rayne could care less about your existence, but the reality was that that was far from the truth. cold, aloof rayne was always doing things for you. all this time, you've been so oblivious.

still, there's more to the story so you stay quiet, letting him get his feelings off of his chest. "to be honest, i was never going to say anything. max tried convincing me to confess on multiple occasions, but i was dead set on letting it pass. i didn't think you liked me in the same way anyway.

"but then you came home today and you told me about your date and i just got so... angry," rayne clenches his fist around the chains of the swing. the whole situation infuriates him every time he thinks about it. "it just wasn't fair. you spent so much time into looking your best just for that asshole to go and waste your effort. you're so beautiful, so kind and understanding, and i fucking hate the fact that he's been taking advantage of that.

"i really wasn't thinking clear when i proposed this date to you, but god after tonight, i'd do it all over again. i wanted you to know what it's like to be with someone who does care about you. i wanted to see you smile. i wanted to hear stories. i want you so badly it's all i can think about sometimes.

"i know this is a lot, and i'm freaking you out right now. i'm sorry but you-"

"rayne." you interrupt with a big smile on your face. he was unaware to the fact that you had got up.

"for fucks sake, can you let me finish? this is already weird enough for me to talk about as is." he rolls his eyes, narrowing his gaze at you, blush splashed across his cheeks. still, without any resistance, you pull him up from his swing by his wrists.

"then don't." you whisper as you pull him in.

and the moment you crash your lips onto rayne's, the world stops. he instantly melts into you, the palms of his hands finding the soft skin on your cheeks. your hands tangle themselves into his hair. his lips are incredibly soft. a faint taste of matcha and sugar syrup dances on his tongue from the boba he drank earlier. a noise of approval vibrates down his throat, and you can't help but smile against his lips.

rayne wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he deepens the kiss. you get what he was talking about earlier. this kiss is all it takes to prove it to you. you feel his affection and desire all at once. every single bone in your body is so aware of how much rayne ames cares about you.

when you finally pull away for air, it's like a smile is permanently tugged onto your lips. rayne trains his eyes onto you, engraining every detail of this moment into his head.

a comfortable silence falls as each of you take your time to catch your breaths. your stare finds its way up, admiring the night sky. there are barely any stars out tonight. no, that part isn't remotely true, not fully anyway, because light pollution drowns out stars and their lights. the reality is that there are billions of stars hanging high out of reach; they just go unseen.

rayne is kinda like that you realize. finn was right. his brother is a good guy. there's a hidden light within him behind all those aloof layers of his. you just have to squint and maybe put on some prescription glasses is order to see it. it's a shame it took you five months to to really acknowledge it. but now that you've finally found a glimpse of it, you'll continue to clear past the fog. you want to know every part of rayne and see his light just as he did with you. you want him to be able to shine at his full brightness with no fear. you'll take rayne ames for all that he is.

"come on," you coo, a lovestruck look in your eyes as you slip your hand into rayne's. "let's go home."

bonus:

rayne: finn, give me a date spot quick finn: are you actually going on a date? rayne: stop asking questions finn: there's a night market on marchétte street. finn: are you seriously going on a date though? finn: hello? finn: rayne. finn: stop leaving me on read. finn: is it (y/n)? finn: it is her, huh? finn: asshole.

delisaster: hey sorry delisaster: can we reschedule for next saturday? y/n: kys y/n: lol sorry that was my bf delisaster: bruh what? delisaster: did you have a bf this whole time? *this message could not be sent* delisaster: did you fucking block me? *this message could not be sent*