#only took. a year and a half of on and off playing

[oneshotnewbie]

𝐆𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐫

𝐸𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 "𝐺𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟". 𝐷𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑢𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑 𝑓𝑢𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 ♥

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝐵𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛 𝐹𝐵𝐼 𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑗𝑜𝑏 𝑏𝑦 𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐸𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑟. 𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝐸𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟?

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This chapter includes the topic of stalking and some swearing. The plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Your head was already hurting the morning before you got on the jet back to Quantico. Throbbing pressure in your temples and stiffness in your neck after a strenuous mission was common. Nevertheless, the failure and the resulting frustration largely gnawed at you and increased the additional pain.

You could not believe such a wrong game had been played with the entire crew. As soon as you arrived in Michigan and the encounter of the local police, they lusted after a dying gazelle like a horde of scavengers. The chief police commissioner was only out for triumph in making headlines, rather than catching the perpetrator, focusing on the victim and their survival.

All the information and files created were unsorted and a sheer disaster, taking you numerous hours to rummage through and filter out the most important points for Spencer and you. Forensics had not photographed the body from every angle and even moved it beforehand, so there was no original picture showing the woman in the position where she was found. All the evidence was flawed and incomplete.

Nevertheless, you managed to create a profile that was most suitable and customized for the murderer. Based on your profiling and the plots of the murders, it was quickly determined that notorious serial killer Jacob Sykes was involved.

For the past five years, the FBI has been frantically searching for him after he went into hiding. Sykes had seventeen women between the ages of 20 and 35 on his conscience, with whom he always acted the same way. Raping and killing them with short, straight cuts on both sides of the neck at the main arteries before dumping the bodies near children´s playgrounds.

The number of reporters at each crime scene was exceptional and nothing you had ever seen before. They ignored the distance behind the tape and disrupted the collection of evidence with screams or angry shouts. The press did not hold back on comment, leaving a bitter smack of tasteless speculations and insults directed at the BAU.

It took an immense amount of self-restraint for you to get the press to walk away without getting physical.

"Hey, how is your head?" lost in thought, you were startled by the suddenly appearing voice. Looking up from your paperwork with slight irritation, you launched a half-hearted smile at the figure, who has flopped down in the seat across from you and held out a water to you.

You hid yourself in the back corner of the plane on purpose, making yourself small to isolate yourself from the rest of the group. You just wanted your peace so as not to transfer a bad mood on your team but your best friend did not let herself be shaken off. Never.

Emily knew you were particularly struggling with the case. Five months after joining the BAU, you first heard about it from Rossi and have been obsessed with solving it ever since. Why was uncertain, but disgust was written all over your face every time his name came up.

"As if someone had taken my brain out and replaced it with jagged rocks"

"What do you think of pizza at my place after we call it a day? Would probably do you some good," she grinned at you while you gratefully accepted the water and the painkiller, which she also held out to you.

Actually, it was clear to you that you wanted to crawl into your own bed after the harsh days and sleep until you woke up on your own. But you could not refuse anything that she wanted from you and so you agreed.

"I am in, but please give me a moment alone," the black-haired agent nodded and locked her eyes with yours, silently and dreamy before caressing your cheek tenderly and getting up to go back to her seat.

"Y/n," she managed let a tentatively whisper past her lips. You carefully turned your head back in her direction, letting your chin rest on the palm of your hand while waiting for what she had to say. "We will land in a few minutes. Make sure to take everything with you"

ᕚ---ᕘ

While the whole team walked through the hallways of the BAU to the elevators, you hurriedly ran up the stairs to the second floor, where your shared office was. You hated elevators. They were too narrow and it was understandable that you did not trusted the squeaky mechanism of the cables. Also, you felt uncomfortable between the metallic walls of the cabin.

You were always faster than everyone else when you took the stairs anyway.

Two other agents opened the big glass doors before you entered the office; all emotion draining from your face. You stopped strictly in the middle of the office and ran a hand through your hair in confusion. You stared at your desk in silence, not quite sure how to react to that.

"What´s that crap?" you barked your question to Morgan and Reid, whose footsteps and chatter you could already hear behind you, irritated. They, who entered the office´s right behind you with the girls shortly after, were slightly startled by your angry voice. Everyone looked at you questioningly before you pushed aside and allowed them to look at your workspace, which was covered with flowers and chocolates. "Did one of you pranksters order this before we left? That is not funny"

"Seems you have a secret admirer," your work colleague proudly walked over to you in amusement and laughed as he gave you a slight punch on the shoulder. Morgan lifted the bouquet of bright red roses up while JJ grabbed the box of heart shaped pralines and disappeared to her desk.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance and buried your arms under your chest. You watched intently as Derek looked at each rose from all sides and tugged at one to pull a white envelope from the thorny stems. "Someone left you a note. Read it!"

"Can you guys stop meddling in private things?"

"They can not, Em. It is their damn job," fed up with today, you snatched the little card out of Spencer´s hand, which he was holding out to you and fiddled at the little heart sticker that kept the whole thing locked. Before you got the little piece of paper out it´s packaging, you looked intently at the two boys who were standing at Emily´s desk, grinning. "If that is a shitty joke by either of you, I will kill you."

As your gaze got lost in the individual letters and the maze of scrambled words spiraled into a text, your jaw dropped to the floor. Disgusted and confused, you felt your heartbeat spread through your body. Blood pounded in your ears and your mouth went dry.

In a haze, you turned your head vigorously in every possible direction. The world spun around you, scanning the entire office for suspicious people who might be looking at you, wanting to catch the moment of a first reaction to their message.

"Y/n, is everything okay?"

Your gaze quickly wandered in the direction of the black haired. "No," you answered shakily and she was able to filter the strange tone of anxiety and fear out of your voice immediately. Emily´s eyes were fixed squarely on you, her eyebrows raised high while her lips pressed into a thin line. 

Approaching you, she lowered her glance to the card you were squeezing tightly in your fist. With her fingers, she pinched the last corner that was sticking out and genly pulled it out of your palm so as not to accidentely cut you.

<I am obsessed with you, darling.   I want you to be mine and only mine.   Let me under your soft skin, let me know everything about you.   Let me feel every inch of your small body, let me get high on your vanilla frequence with the powerful note of jasmine flowers and the fruity nuance.   Pretty soon you will be all mine>

It was to be expected that she would read the letter aloud in front of your team. As she did so, you drew closer to her private space, no longer feeling secure. You nervously stroked the goosebumps on your bare arm and followed every movement that happened around you while racking your brain for a clue as to who this might have been but came up short.

"One study found out that in random samples, the lifetime prevalance of being a victim of stalking is 11.6% and rising. Women are affected up to 6% more than men," the words flowed from Spencer´s mouth. A small voice in his head rebuked him, but he resolutely brushed it aside.

Sooner or later, you would be faced with another gift from the unknown person so it did not help to wrap you in cotton wool.

"Does not help, Reid!" as suspected, none of the teammates standing around you were happy with this fact, but more like fire and flame. You were the youngest on the team and automatically unleashed a protective instinct in every single person.

"I will tell Hotch," JJ immediately tossed the chocolates in the trash can, glad she had not began to eat any of them yet. Maybe they were poisoned or laced with some deadly substance meant to hit you. With a quick walk, she disappeared up the stairs and walked straight to Aaron Hotchner´s office to inform him of the incident in great detail.

"And I will take this to forensics. Maybe they can salvage some fingerprint so we can catch the bastard and I can-" Morgan kept his remarks extra vague so as not to completely upset you. But it was already too late for that.

You were beyond insecure.

The answer from the unit chief about further actions was not long in coming and appeared a few minutes later in form of a briefing. The message to the team was very short, telling everyone that they would have to wait for the forensic evaluation, but that you still needed to be kept under surveillance.

"We can not just ditch it and wait," Derek shrugged in frustration as he complained about the lack of action. His arms were tightly crossed behind his head, staring intently at Hotch. When it came to you, he tended to be quite protective, almost like a big brother, and the unit chief understood him, really. You were his responsibility. "The guy is talking about her perfume in detail. He is around"

Unfortunately, Aaron could not contradict the statement, but it annoyed him not to know what else he could do. He had no traces. Nothing of any importance. The only thing that promised a little beginning was the shop from which the flowers had been sent by courier, which might offer a promising clue.

"Prentiss, Morgan. Drive to Achara Florist on Richmond Highway, the flowers were ordered from there. See if you can find out anything about whoever placed the order," both nodded in agreement and slid back with their chair to get up. The individual documtens that they had placed in front of them until recently, were stacked in the middle of the table before they left the room. "Hotch, what can I do?"

"You are staying. As long as we do not know in which direction this is going, you are safest here,"

"But that is my.. whatever. I should be there. After all, I am the only one who this stuff is dedicated to!" you scolded while helping JJ sort the papers into a file and put the chairs back at the table. You knew Aaron was just as concerned as anyone and preferred a safe option; you were in no good constitution to talk him into changing his plan now.

It was useless.

He gave you a warning look that silenced you. Snorting, you handed the last papers to the blonde and looked demonstratively back in his direction. It was not a comfortable silence that stood beween you, but better than bickering with your chief.

Without a word, you turned away and left the conference room. The case was nerve-wracking enough and dealing with a weird guy who seemed to have been watching you for a long time was pushing your limits so you used the path to your desk trying to cool yourself off.

ᕚ---ᕘ

A gentle dance of two fingers on your shoulders snapped you out of your daydreams and made you startle in your chair. You had been absorbed in the case of Jacob Sykes for hours. Well, actually you only pretended to work hard on it.

You had been shuffling files, moving them from pile to pile and made some drawing that had absolutely nothing to do with the case. Totally bored, tired and with your thoughts somewhere else, you were ready to just go home and forget the days events.

But you had to wait until you could mark the day as over.

"Nice doodle. Desk work is no fun, huh?" Morgan asked, snatching the piece of paper away from you all while walking through the aisle of your individual desks to his. "No, but do you like my drawing? The thing should represent you" you asked back and he gave you a confused but smirking look as he lowered down on his chair.

"Hm," he said, staring at you until you averted your gaze and looked at the raven haired. Her leather jacket was slightly soaked, her straightened hair had turned into loose, frizzy curls, although the weather forecast had predicted a sunny day.

This was a welcome change as there had been an uninterrupted heat build-up since Monday last week, making it impossible for you to concentrate on any work. Not that you did not like the sun, but you liked rain a lot more.

"Did you find out anything?" you leaned back in the chair and tilted your head, resting the back of your head on her midsection. The addressed just shook her head and gently brushed a lost strand of hair from your forehead. "The shop was already closed when we arrived. We left out contacts there, hopefully we will get an answer tomorrow"

You closed your eyes with a sigh. Your frustration was clearly visible on your face. Emily waited for a few seconds but you did not reply to her answer. She knew you wanted to mumble something back and curse.

"You can all go home," you looked around, slightly frightened, and tried to find the voice of the male figure in the much too large office until you got stuck on the railing of the first floor. Aaron Hotchner stood alone on the narrow balcony-like platform and looked down at his team. "There is nothing more we can do today"

It had not surprised him in the least that you did tried to get out of the FBI building the quickest and that you did succeeded in the end. You did not need to be told twice. Jumping out of your seat, you packed up your stuff swiftly and almost ran out the office, but not without giving JJ a hastily big hug.

Laughter broke out and Emily had closed her eyes, shook her head and obviously resisted the urge to roll her eyes before trying to catch up to you. Aaron did not mind, he already noticed the tiredness and tension on your face this afternoon, which had worsened with the passage of time.

ᕚ---ᕘ

"Hey Serg," you greeted the black cat, who jumped off the scratching post and reared up in front of you with expectant eyes as only cats can and made the appropriate noises, showing you that he was happy. Even before you stepped into the hallways behind the young agent, he snuggled up to your lower leg and made you smile. "Aw, did you miss me?"

While Emily disappeared into the bedroom to get rid of her wet clothes, you sat cross-legged on the floor and dealt with the young cat, who meanwhile began to purr loudly under your touch. He enjoyed the closeness and absorbed any negative feelings you felt that day.

As if in a small bubble, you forgot everything around you and only noticed the vibrating of his small body under your palm and the gentle tapping of his paws on your jeans. His fur was fluffier and softer than usual as he snuggled up to your outstretched hand, gently scratching behind his ear. "Unbelieveable!"

You heard the black haired bleating and looked up at her as she almost jealousy leaned against the door frame. She was now dressed in sweatpants and a simple black top, which subtly emphasized the muscles in her upper arms. These were locked tightly under her chest, her lips curled into a soft pout. "He gets more attention from you than me. And he is a cat!"

You giggled and shook your head before you took him in your arms and stood up carefully. Sergio mewed softly as you cradled him in one of your arms like a baby and nudged his nose in amusement. Slowly taking your shoes off with your heels, you walked over to Emily while being busy scratching the cat´s white belly.

You glanced at the taller woman as you invaded her personal space and watched her get visibly more tense and nervous. A mischievous grin spread across your lips, carefully hiking your eyebrows. "Purr for me like a kitten and you will get all the attention you want," you winked at her, smirking widely.

She swallowed hard as the blush rose in her cheeks. Uneasy, she closed her eyes to steady her rapidly beating heart, slowly licking her lips as she felt your warm breath brushing her thin skin. How she would like to just grab you and kiss you, but she tried to keep her composure. The cold that hits her skin shortly after you crept past her made her shudder and left her with a gentle tingle in the pit of her stomach. It snapped her out of her thoughts and brought her back to the cold reality. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself away from the wall she was standing against and walked over to you where you already sat on the couch with a slice of pizza and a glass of wine.

[chaotic-toasters]

Invisible

TW: Bad-ish mental health

Chelsea!Reader

Ex-UNC!Reader

I don't think this makes any sense but whtvs

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

Transfer to Chelsea, they said. It'll be fun, they said. Well, you said that they were wrong.

You signed for Chelsea under the promise of playing time and friendship, only to be immediately benched and left to wander the halls of Cobham by yourself.

In hindsight, it was a stupid decision to join the Blues. The winning WSL side had no need for you on their already stacked roster, and in no way were you going to be able to compete with the likes of Zecira Musovic and Hannah Hampton.

You'd once been told that only truly deserving and talented people could reach the professional level of a sport, but you were seriously doubting it. You weren't a quitter, but you were genuinely wondering if you should wait for your 23rd birthday next year to announce your retirement or if you should just announce it now. You were still young, and you weren't about to waste any more of your life waiting for your footballing career to blossom.

It was funny, you thought, how the same cycle just kept repeating. When you played in your home state of Chicago for the Red Stars, you'd sat on the bench and watched Alyssa Naeher, your captain and USWNT starting keeper, guard the net, but you'd at least been happy, being good friends with most of your teammates. Then, during your time at Manchester United, Marc Skinner had promised you that you'd play in games against easier opponents. You never did, always internally scolding yourself for believing that he would want to play you. Now, at Chelsea, you were all alone, not a familiar face or start in sight. The only time you'd been in the net during games was in college, where you'd been head of the DoD for UNC. That time was long gone, though.

-----------

"Y/N!" you almost missed Emma calling your name, too busy wondering if anyone would notice if you napped on the bench during the match. It was against Arsenal, but you were practically invisible to your teammates and the media alike.

"Yes?" you glanced up from the ground, only half-paying attention.

"Zecira isn't here and Hannah can't play on with that calf. You're going in."

"Okay." You didn't move, your manager's words not registering in your brain.

She stared at you. "Aren't you gonna go get your gloves?"

"Oh, right." You took off towards the changing room, grabbing your gloves, waterbottle, and blinding-white sweat towel that you'd had for the past three years.

When you went back outside, Emma patted you on the shoulder, offering you a word of advice and reminding you that the score was nil-nil.

It was embarrassingly quiet when you jogged into goal, the only cheers being a few quiet Chelsea fans in a sea of blue. You just shook your head to yourself, bouncing on the balls of your feet as play started up again. No distractions.

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

A breakaway in the 51st minute had you barking orders at your backline, but none of your defenders were fast enough to catch up. Stina Blackstenius was sprinting at you full-force as you came out of your goal, and though her body shifted to the left and she passed the ball between her feet, you noticed how her eyes momentarily flicked upwards. Your hand instinctively shot up, smacking the ball away like a cat would a toy on a string, and as it flew over the crossbar, the entire stadium was silent other than the soft pitter-patter of rain on the roof.

The roar of the crowd rang out seconds later, and the Arsenal players eyed you with a newfound wariness as Steph Catley ran to take the corner kick.

"Hey," someone whispered, nudging you. "That was sick. I knew you still had it in you."

You glanced up and smiled. "Thanks, Foxy."

She ran back, sharing a few words with your other former UNC teammates, Alessia and Lotte, the three of them giving you small smiles as the whistle blew.

You came out of the net again as the ball came flying into the box, jumping up over Blackstenius again and swatting it away once more. The cheers from the Chelsea fans was deafening, drowning out whatever Emma was yelling to you from the sidelines.

Chelsea forwards and Arsenal defenders chased after the ball into the Arsenal half, leaving you, your defenders, and Arsenal forwards in your half. "Hey," Alessia called, giving you a little wave from the edge of your box. "Nice saves."

You waved back. "Thanks."

"You haven't changed a bit from Uni," she commented, jogging away. "Reflexes sharp as ever."

"You haven't changed either," you grinned. "Clumsy as ever."

Her head whipped back around indignantly. "Hey!"

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

It was strange being a part of your teammates' conversations. It was as if you'd been invisible before the match, and each save slowly made you appear before their eyes. They'd met you with smiles and claps on the back after the game, all too happy to secure a tie in the wake of losing their first two keepers. You could care less about your current teammates, though. The ones who really mattered were your old ones.

"We totally would have won if Chelsea didn't have you," Emily scoffed jokingly, giving you a light push. "You saved their asses."

You pushed her back with a shit-eating grin, lowering your voice. "I'll be saving your asses instead soon enough."

Lotte spit out her water onto Alessia, who shrieked in disgust. "Really?!"You snickered. "Yeah. Don't tell anyone, though."

Alessia pinched her jersey in her fingers, airing it out. "Have you thought about this? The Chelsea fans aren't going to like that at all. Trust me, I know."

"I don't care," you shrugged. "I'll be happy at Arsenal, and I know I'll get playing time."

"Well, we can't wait to see you at Colney," Lotte grinned. "Arsenal red will look great on you."

You grinned back. "I know it will."

[amelia-acero]

Hi, my name is Amelia and this my first time writing in very long minute, but I got inspired by the lovely @thefallennightmare , she’s become my favorite writers on this app, with all that being said, someone requested a head canon of the reader having a cryptic pregnancy, she wrote out the head canon and it reminded me so much of my best friend going through that too. I got inspired by it and decided to put my spin in it. So without further ado, please enjoy. I’m gonna use character names, but please feel free to use your own preferred names.

“Oof, damn it that hurt.” Anya whispered to herself, rubbing her back from the most recent cramp out of many for the day.

She was folding up the merch table and boxes of unsold merch from the most recent Bad Omens concert, they were currently in their last show of the tour in Sacramento and we’re all getting ready to head back to their homes. Half in Los Angeles, including her and the other half in Virginia.

“Is your back still hurting darling?” she heard a familiar voice ask. She turned around and saw Noah standing there, looking at her with concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, but this time it felt stronger than the others and now it’s coming every 30 minutes and lasts about five minutes.”

”Would you listen to me if I told you to head to urgent care and get yourself checked out?”

She shook her head while folding up the last box of tshirts.

”I already know what they’re going to say, ‘You have irregular periods, ma’am, It’s just probably your period coming in again.’”

Noah just nodded, after working with them and being on tour with them since their album Finding God, Before God Finds Me came out, they had gotten to know each other and began to really know each other after being in a relationship for almost two years. Noah took the box that Anya was holding and helped put it in the truck where their equipment and merch was being held.

“Come on, let’s get back inside and I’ll make you chamomile tea to soothe your cramps. When did they start?” Noah took off the jacket that he was wearing and put it around Anya’s shoulders, knowing that when she had cramps the cold never did her any favors.

Anya nodded and pulled his jacket closer to her body, while slightly admiring Noah’s body. Something about Noah after a concert always made her want him, but sadly tonight was not going to be one of those nights.

”They started around noon, but only recently they started coming in slightly quicker.”

They reached the door of the tour bus and went inside where the rest of the band was waiting for them.

“We ready to head home?” Matt asked.

Everyone on the bus cheered and loud music began to play from hip-hop to rap to country anything the boys could use to celebrate going home after a long 11 months of back to back tours across North America, South America, Europe and Japan with Bring Me The Horizon, Sleep Token, and Dayseeker. Everyone was more than ready to be back home, none more than Anya; she wanted nothing more to sleep off her cramps and just get enough rest before going through festival season all through California. Noah went to the kitchen part of the bus and poured a water bottle into the kettle, and turned it on. Once the water was ready, he poured the water in a mug and put the tea bag in the mug, and carefully handed it to Anya. She let the boys enjoy festivities and went to the back of the bus and closed the door to get some peace and quiet, drinking the tea Noah had made. After about 3 hours into the drive, she woke up and found that the rest of the bus had quieted down and possibly had fallen asleep. She however was not feeling anymore peaceful and in fact was feeling worse.

“Ahh fuck.” She whispered to herself.

She tried to stand up and sat back down again, the pain being worse than before. She was no longer able to fully stand on her own. Another cramp passed through her and unlike the ones before, this was intense. Anya wrapped her arms around herself and the pain caused her to groan, she tried her best to be quiet to not disturb the guys in case they were asleep. After what felt like forever, she felt someone else’s presence, Anya looked up and saw Noah look at her with concern and fear. He knelt down and tried to sit her up, but instead she just slumped her head on his shoulder.

“Ok, for once this time can you please listen to me when I tell you that I’m going to tell Matt to stop the bus so we can go to the ER. This is way past urgent care at this point.” He said, cradling her head in his hand

”Noah, I promise that I’m fine. It’s just my period about to start.” She said, trying not to worry him.

He gave her a look that clearly said he didn’t believe her for one minute.

“Darling, I’ve seen you on your period, this is way beyond that. Stay here , I’m going to check if Matt or Bryan are awake to help us.”

Noah got up and left the back, after about a long 10 minutes, he came back with Matt, if he was asleep before, he clearly wasn’t anymore after taking one look at Anya.

“Holy Fuck, how long have you been like this?” Matt asked

”I’ve been feeling shitty all day, but it just started feeling worse about almost two hours ago.” Anya said.

Matt knelt down and to get his arm around her.

”Alright man, let’s get her up.” Matt said.

Noah and Matt stood on either side of her and put her arms around their shoulders. As soon as she was up, Anya gasped and felt something warm and wet trickling down her legs. She looked down and saw that her sweats were soaked. Whatever pain she felt was now intensified by tenfold. She bent over and fell back on the floor when the next cramp started again, this one almost causing her to yell out loud.

“Oh fuck, I’ll go tell the driver to drive to the closest hospital, I think were in Fresno right now.” Matt said.

Everyone started to look out their bunks and saw Anya laying on the floor with Noah right at her side. After that everyone immediately woke up and began to help in any way they could.

The bus stopped and without hesitating, Noah picked up Anya and carried her in his arms. He carried her out the bus and through the hospital doors.

”Can we get some help here?” Jolly yelled out

In an instant two nurses, one male and one female came up, and another nurse brought a gurney. Anya could no longer and started yelling out at the pain. Noah placed her on the gurney and was hesitant to let go of her hand.

“Sir, we got her and we’ll get her situated and figure out what’s going on.”

Noah nodded, but was slow to let go of her hand. Anya was wheeled into a private room, and immediately her shirt was raised exposing her abdomen.

“Ma’am we need you to stay still just long enough to see what is going on.”

Anya was writhing around in pain and screamed at the pain, but something felt different, something hard coming out of her.

”I can’t, I feel something coming out.”

The nurses looked up at each other, grabbed a scissor and cut Anya free from her sweats and underwear. The sight astonished them, they looked and saw a head crowning. From that they got a hospital gown on her and immediately moved her into a different room.

“What’s your name sweetie?” The nurse asked.

”Anastasia Mendoza, but I go by Anya.”

“Anya sweetie, I need you to listen to me very carefully, you’re having a baby sweetie and the baby is coming out now sweetie.”

At those words, the world felt like it stopped and Anya looked up at the nurse.

“That’s not possible, I’m not pregnant.”

”Sweetie, unless my eyes deceive me, this baby is ready to come out, whether you like it or not. Now, do you know who the father is and where he is?”

Anya remembered all the times she slept with Noah and realized the possibility of her being pregnant was true, they weren’t truly safe in their sexual activities, but because of her irregular periods, she thought the possibility of her getting pregnant would be slim. She looked at the nurse.

”He’s the one who carried me in the waiting room. His name is Noah Sebastian.”

She nodded and told the male nurse and began to hook her up to machines and heart rate monitors for both her and the baby, and put her feet in the stirrups.

Outside in the waiting room, Noah, Jolly, Nicholas, Folio, Matt and Bryan were all waiting on news, Noah was walking back and forth. Not knowing made his anxiety skyrocket.

”Noah, she’s getting checked out, she’ll be fine, now stop walking back and forth, because I’m getting dizzy watching you.” Folio said.

”Don’t ask me to stop man, Anya’s back there and I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

The male nurse helping Anya came out.

”Noah Sebastian?”

Noah looked and immediately went up to him, along with the rest of the guys.”

“How is Anya doing? Is she alright?”

“Relax sir, everything is fine, both her and the baby are alright. Now if you can follow me, I need you to put on a hospital gown. Right now gentleman, I just need Mr. Sebastian, we can let you know when they can accept visitors.”

In his anxiety induced haze he didn’t catch his mention of the baby. Noah followed behind the nurse and Nicholas stood there thinking over what the nurse just said.

“Did he just say what I think he said?” Nicholas asked.

”If you’re thinking he said baby, then yes, I heard him too.” Bryan said.

Everyone was thinking about the signs they could’ve missed and all the signs that could’ve given away her being pregnant.

“I didn’t even know Anya was pregnant, why didn’t she tell us?” Folio asked

”Man, I don’t think Anya even knew herself.” Matt said.

”I think we should create a baby basket and start ordering what they're definitely going to need now.” Jolly said.

They all left the hospital and began to head to the nearest Target.

”Wait, what about Noah? I don’t think he heard about the part with the baby.” Nicholas asked.

“I think he’ll figure it out when he sees the baby come out dude. Come on.” Matt said

Noah walked to the room while putting on the hospital issued scrub gown and looked up and saw the sign reading ‘MATERNITY WARD’.

“Are you sure I’m in the right place? My girlfriend isn’t pregnant.”

”You’ll see sir.”

He reached the room and saw Anya on the bed and immediately rushed to her side. Anya screaming her head off from the pain and white knuckling the bed rails. She saw him and immediately held on to his hand.

”What is going on?” Noah asked.

”Sir, you're aware that your girlfriend is having a baby right?”

Noah’s eyes widened and realized that this was happening right now, from the bassinet on the side of the bed to everything included in having a baby. At his delayed response, one of the nurses looked at him.

”Sir, if you’re going to faint, just know that we’ll ignore you, because right now we're focused on mom and baby.”

Noah focused on what was going on and gripped Anya’s hand just as hard.

”It’s ok darling, I’m here. Let's do this, you can do this.”

Anya nodded and cried out.

”Ok sweetie, on three you’ll push and push for 10 seconds. One, Two. Three. Push!”

Anya gripped Noah’s hand and began to push.

”Push, Push, Push, Push, Push.” One of the nurses said. After 10 seconds of pushing, Anya couldn’t push anymore.

”Ok, take a quick breather sweetie and then we’ll start again.”

Anya shook her head.

”I can’t, it’s too much. It hurts so bad.”

Noah kissed Anya’s forehead.

”Darling, I’m here. Whatever you need, I’m here. You want to break my hand holding it? Do it. Scream my ear off? Scream.” Noah said.

Anya looked up at him.

”Oh my god, we’re actually having a baby right now.” Anya breathed in, sweat sliding down her forehead and her hair clinging onto her head. “Oh my god, we’re having a baby and we have nothing prepared, no clothes, no diapers, no food, nothing.” Anya said, the heart monitor picking up the increase in her heart rate.

”We can worry about that later darling, right now let’s just focus on you and the baby.” Noah said.

”All right sweetie, let’s get ready to push again.” The nurse said.

”On three sweetie, One. Two. Three. Push!”

Anya pushed and pushed the pain becoming unbearable by the second.

“Alright, the head is out, come on sweetie, just a little bit more.”

Anya pushed even harder, Noah looked over and saw the baby’s head and shoulders come out and eventually it’s whole body, the cold in the room making the baby cry out.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor announced.

“Nurse, Date of birth is September 3rd, 2023 and time of birth is 3:23am.”

They took the baby to clean him up and wrapped him up. The baby was crying loudly and when the baby touched Anya’s chest, the baby immediately stopped crying. Afterwards the placenta came and they took it away to ensure that nothing was missing.

“Alright sweetie, you’re going to feel a slight pinch, you tore a little bit, so we’re gonna get you stitched up.”

Anya and Noah both focused on the baby, just absentmindedly nodded. Anya didn’t realize until she felt the prick of the needle. Afterwards it felt like nothing.

“A baby boy Noah, what should we name him?” Anya said, looking up at Noah.

”I don’t know? I’m still trying to reel in from the fact that we became parents without realizing we were becoming parents.”

”Did you notice anything?”

”I mean, I noticed that your breasts were becoming slightly bigger than normal, but I didn’t think twice about it.”

”I also thought my bras and pants were slightly tighter than normal, but I didn’t think about it either, and you know how my periods are at this point, pregnancy was the last possibility on my mind.”

After about 30 minutes of cleaning up Anya, Noah took off his shirt to do skin to skin contact with the baby. Noah held the baby and fed him some formula, while Anya took a well deserved nap. About two hours passed before a flash caught his attention. It was Bryan and Matt, they came in with a diaper bag, filled to the brim and Bryan had his camera on him, ready to take the next picture.

”Hey man, congratulations!!” They yelled out, but Noah was ready to shut them up to not wake up Anya or the baby. Matt put the baby bag in another guest chair.

“Congratulations!” They whispered.

“How’s Anya doing?” Matt asked. Walking over to look at the baby.

Noah looked at her and smiled warmly, that sight was enough to get another picture out of Bryan.

“She did amazing, terrified, but amazing.”

”Yeah, no shit.” Matt said. “Oh fuck! Can I curse around the baby? Oh fuck it, the baby won’t remember this.”

“The baby might not, but I will, so no cursing around my baby.” A sleepy voice joined in. All three men joined to look at Anya. Noah quickly walked to her side, helping her sit up.

”How are you feeling darling?”

”Like a baby I didn’t know I was pregnant with came out of me.” She joked. The baby began fussing at his mother’s voice and Anya began to reach for the baby. Noah helped with handing the baby to her and put his shirt back on.

”Watch his head.”

”I know.”

Once the baby was safely in Anya’s arms. The baby began to settle, Anya looked up at Noah and gave him a loving look.

”I love you so much.” Anya said.

”I love you more.” Noah said. “Please let’s not find out you’re pregnant like this again.” He joked.

Anya giggled, another flash went off and Bryan looked at the camera.

”Speak for yourself, I thought I was going to die.”

”Ha! That shit was terrifying, so please don’t do it again.” Matt said.

Everyone in the room laughed.

“Hey where’s the guys?” Noah asked.

”I’m pretty sure they’re all looking at baby stuff, Matt and I were in charge of the baby bag, and last we saw, Folio and Jolly were arguing about which crib looked cooler and Nick was getting all the stuff you guys actually needed for right now. He’s getting you guys a car seat, he said he’ll rent a car to get you back to LA, while the rest of us go back on the bus.” Bryan said. “We also brought you guys some extra clothes too.”

“ Thank you guys.” Noah said.

“That’s amazing of Nick, I actually didn’t think of it.” Anya said.

”Have you thought of a name yet?” Bryan said.

”To be honest, nothing on my end. Anything on your end love?” Anya asked.

“Nothing on my end either.” Noah said.

Matt and Bryan both got a chance to hold the baby and Bryan got more photos, eventually Nick, Jolly, and Folio came and wished their congratulations, they all brought their own gifts. After a long argument with each other, Jolly finally explained the crib that he chose for the baby and that it was going to be delivered to Noah’s house. Everyone got a chance to also hold the baby as well and a few more pictures were taken by Bryan, afterwards everyone left the new happy family to enjoy their time together.

Anya was holding the baby while she was breastfeeding him. She looked up at Noah and gave him a deep kiss. She looked back at the baby and stared at him with a new found maternal love.

“Do you think we’re ready or will ever be with our new roles as parents?” Anya asked.

“Absolutely not, but as long as I have you and him by my side, we can figure it out together.”

”We really should come up with a name though, I don’t know how much longer I can go with calling our son ‘Baby Boy Sebastian’” Anya chuckled.

”I think I have one in mind.”

She looked down and caressed his hands that held a very special name.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Noah asked.

”Mhmm.”

“I just wish he was here to see this.”

”I think he is, why else would our son be born on his birthday.”

“I think he would get a kick out of knowing he’d be sharing his birthday with a baby.”

The baby began to cry and to keep her from getting up, Noah took Baby Keaton from her and began to change his soiled diaper and change him into a different onesie. Little began to move his hand back to mouth in an attempt to eat something. Noah wrapped him up slightly and picked up his son and kissed his nose.

“I think our son is hungry again. Should I get a formula bottle or do you want to breastfeed him?”

”I’ll do the bottle this time, just so we can get him accustomed to both. Especially if we decide to take him with us on tour.”

Noah carefully placed Keaton in Anya’s arms and while adjusting his shirt she noticed some writing on the shirt with a sharpie, she moved his blanket and saw the words written on his shirt.

’WILL YOU MARRY MY DADDY?’

”Noah what -

She turned and saw Noah kneeling by her bed with a velvet ring box, a beautiful emerald ring surrounded by diamonds and with a white gold band. A little tongue tied, Anya couldn’t find the words to speak.

”I did have reservations for my proposal to you at La Boucherie in about two weeks, not going to lie, before I found you last night, I was looking at the ring in my bunk and practicing on how to propose. If you ask the guys, they’ll tell you that I had each of them practice and pretend to be you to get an idea of your reaction, but this is a lot better. Our son being here with us was very unexpected, but a welcome surprise. So now that I have both of you here, I wanted to ask.”

”Oh Noah…”

”Anastasia Mendoza, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

”oooh.” A little coo-like sound came from baby Keaton.

Noah chuckled.

”I think our son said yes for you.” He whispered.

”Lucky for him, mama can speak for herself and her response is yes. With all my heart. Yes, I’ll marry you Noah.”

Noah placed the ring on her finger and kissed her again. It was all overwhelming, but they both knew that as long as they had each other, it wasn’t bound to be perfect, but it can be easier with each other. They don’t know what the future holds, but each day will bring a new surprise and hopefully they can be prepared.

[mixtapedoh]

and it was all yellow | y.j.

welcome back to SVTU ! lost your way? refer to our campus map for directions.

pairing: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader with guest appearances from c. seungcheol, h. joshua, w. junhui, and more !

word count: ~5.9k genre: neighbors to friends to lovers warnings: language, intermittent Lore Dumping™ (i have to kick us off into svtu somehow), jeonghan is a little shit, light suggestive themes (heavily lampshaded and perhaps only occuring twice?)

☄. *. ⋆

olive's notes: these individual headcanon sets are going to be very ~stream of consciousness~, so bear with me, here. second, cheol and jeonghan are brothers (and there's a secret third brother i'll introduce eventually, don't you worry), also, thank you for stopping by <3. now here's the content you signed up for.

☄. *. ⋆

now playing... ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ... ⌜ angel baby — troye sivan ⌟

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW ☄. *. ⋆

— it all started when jeonghan realized that jun was loaded.

now, don't get him wrong. it wasn't as though he had befriended jun because jeonghan had been looking for someone rich and easily persuaded. it's not like jeonghan used his ineffable charm to win over the quasi-cryptid that was wen junhui because of jun's apparent legacy funds.

not that jeonghan couldn't have done — he clearly had the persuasion and cunning to do it — he just didn't. jeonghan wasn't in need of someone else's money. please. he was very capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much, he was just also, however, very good at knowing things.

especially those things that could be used to his advantage.

— and well... wen junhui was loaded. wealthy as shit. a classic trust fund baby. a walking dollar sign that just so happened to share classes with jeonghan every year since he started SVTU as a political science major (of arts, of course. he hadn't taken latin in high school to not absolutely crush the romance languages in uni).

— you see, SVTU had this fun little program for long-suffering students interested in the government and manipulating it to their will wherein if you took merger courses — lectures that ate up a hell of a lot of your time and money but gave substantial credit hours that counted for both applied and allied course credit — you could get a jump start on your degree, be offered more opportunities for internship, and explore a subject's "many facets" through "multiple lenses."

to jeonghan, it meant working faster and harder so that he might graduate early and get into the actual politics of pol sci quicker — at a more “genius” and “revolutionary” age.

(half of politics, after all, was being appealing enough to make headlines. there wasn’t time to waste, in the long run.)

to wen junhui it had to mean something different — after all, jun was a pre-law student with a completely different career path from the other party involved (though jeonghan had considered law at one point in time — something he’s not above admitting though certainly not pining after). merger courses for him likely meant an expedited process to law school. but that was truly beside the point. an aside.

— what mattered in the end, was that jeonghan and jun had more than enough shared merger courses to go around, and in the process of things, had gone from strangers to acquaintances, then study partners (blame it on the fact that jun — the altruistic leaning bastard he was — actually tutored in his free time. willingly. as in, not a joke.) to committed group project members, and eventually to that nebulous thing called friendship.

ask them both when that final stage commenced and you’d get varying responses — jeonghan always far more generous than jun in such regards, but almost annoyingly so, like he wanted to be the one leaning more on the ridiculous.

— yes, it was quite a ways into their friendship when jeonghan learned that wen junhui, his sweet jun, was loaded. like, living alone off of campus in his own two bedroom apartment on the wealthy side of the city that prospered from the University Living Aesthetic™, loaded. as in, so loaded he could have easily found more than enough willing bodies to become roommates with him and help pay for the exorbitant expenses but simply decided against it because he hadn’t, and i quote “thought about it before.”

“never thought about it? jun. how much does this place cost?”

and jun had to think for a minute. genuinely think about how much he paid in monthly rent. “i suppose for a month’s rent i pay around… [REDACTED].”

and jeonghan was no stranger to dramatics, to be sure, but anyone else would have gaped the same as him. “[REDACTED]??”

"[REDACTED]."

"...shit."

— yes, jeonghan finding out that jun was loaded, living in a (rather well kept) apartment with an empty room, no roommates, and an assortment of (dying) houseplants that needed care, was truly the beginning of it all.

— after all, while the chaos settled in a year after the fact when he and joshua would finally move in with jun because of circumstances that aren't truly relevant to the here and now, all true origins start a little before dramatic changes. there's always a gentle precursor, something soft that sets the stage. rumblings of change are necessary forefathers to the strength of revolution; jeonghan learning that jun was a walking line of credit with property to his name and a work ethic that would make any professor blush was necessary groundwork for the events that would follow.

and goddamn, if things didn't follow.

— but i suppose, if we're back tracking all the way to jeonghan and shua moving in with jun on one very ill timed sunday (jun had an exam in his special topics in deviance, crime, & the law course the next day), we are also brushing up against jeonghan meeting you.

another precursor to the chaos that would follow. another tremor that would shake the ground and cause things to tumble.

— you also lived in the terraces on 17th and attended svtu. you lived on the same floor as jun — two apartments down from his, no less — and his first week there, you showed jeonghan the campus shuttle routes that passed right outside the complex (he'd come to learn that the domino route was the one you took most often, as it led right to the heart of the university, but the pinwheel route was also a convenient option for evening courses).

— you and jeonghan weren't friends right away. no, you were always a friendly face around the complex and a decent conversationalist when stuck in the elevator together, but it wasn't as though you and jeonghan became fast friends. you were just neighbors for a while; just another person grabbing mail on monday afternoons, stopping at the in-residence coffee shop on bleak wednesday mornings, ordering pizza on saturday evenings and giving joshua a slice after he weaponizes his big, brown eyes.

— and then came The Series of Fire Alarm Mishaps.

— you see, at some point in the middle of the semester, someone new moved into the apartment building, in the same hall as you and jeonghan. at first, you barely even noticed the change, and then they started cooking.

— which wouldn't have been a problem. if they had been good at it.

the first few times the (incredibly loud and not unreasonably sensitive) fire alarms from down the hall had gone off, it had been unfortunate - a mild nuisance that disrupted what jeonghan had been doing, and nothing more. but then, the first few times became multiple, and from multiple, came a pattern. every other day, at least twice, the fire alarm next door would go off. and it would always be at different times - breakfast, the afternoon, early evening, even sometimes at 1:28 in the morning. the fire alarm would sound, and while it would mostly be no longer than a minute or two, it was still enough to be irritating.

you and jeonghan talked about it every time you saw each other in passing, or just so happened to be taking the same shuttle to campus (which happened quite often, anymore, since jeonghan enrolled in an extra course to help him graduate all the sooner). your neighbor and that damn fire alarm. your neighbor and their inability to cook, yet unnecessary dedication to the craft. you both joked about the inevitability of them actually burning the apartment down.

— and then, one day, the fire alarm went off at 2:19, waking jeonghan up out of a dead sleep (he hadn't meant to fall asleep at his desk, and his neck would pay for it all the next day). he heard it, and immediately decided to ignore it, knowing it would stop soon.

but then it didn't.

at about 3.5 minutes of non-stop alarms, jeonghan was annoyed enough that he left his room and staggered into the kitchen for some water, where shua and jun were already waiting around, likely with the same idea (though it was clear that shua hadn't ever fallen asleep, and perhaps jun was in the same boat, though he'd changed into sweats and a light t-shirt).

at about 6 minutes, jeonghan opened the door to see if anyone else was, well... concerned.

and at 13 minutes, he was standing outside in the brisk autumn air, agreeing with jun as he whispered that if there wasn't an actual fire but just their talentless neighbor attempting to cook in the middle of the night, he was going to kill the bastard himself.

— and there, in the middle of all this stupidity — sleepily rocking back and forth from one foot to another — and on the other side of him, was you.

— and, well, when you offered to buy him and the rest of his roommates coffee at the convenience store that was just down the street, not far, he couldn't do much beyond say yes. what was he going to do? decline your offer?

and so all four of you walked to the convenience store and aimlessly wound your way through the almost neon colored aisles. jeonghan used the opportunity to stick to you like glue and get you to open up — about yourself and your roommates, both of whom had gone home for two weeks for (separate) family vacations (not that you were jealous. clearly the superior option was to stay at the apartment, embroiled in course work and standing outside at 2:00 am because of some loser neighbor who can't cook a singular meal without burning the building to the ground, and yet refuses to have anything delivered).

— in the end, the fire hadn't been bigger than something contained in the pan ("thank god," you had said, shaking your hands in lackluster triumph, "i have a physics exam next week. i need those notes more than you know"), but at only 4 months of having a new neighbor, someone new moved in within 2 weeks at most. and, after being neighbors for almost 7 months, you and jeonghan were decidedly friends.

after all, you bought him a triangular gimbap, ice cream, and convenience store coffee. jun had slipped away with just a banana milk (which he promptly paid back the next day), and shua nearly bought out the whole store once the two of you got to talking about the best midnight (and hours after) snacks lining the walls. at the least, he was indebted to you, which could only be solved by more trips to the convenience store with more mindless conversation, and more time for the both of you to endear yourself to the other.

and the way jeonghan saw it, friendship at that point was inevitable. especially when, at the start of the next semester, you and jeonghan both had an early morning class and used the domino route to get to class via campus shuttle.

(and sure, jun had an early class, too, and drove himself to campus everyday, meaning jeonghan could have easily just gotten a ride, but he didn't. for no particular reason, really, he just never did; but one frost bitten morning after a snowstorm, when jeonghan was waiting at the shuttle stop and you stood beside him, bundled up in a thick winter coat and rubbing the tips of your fingers to keep them warm, you turned to him, the cord of the wired headphones the both of you always shared swaying from the movement (a streak of yellow against all this white, the sun in the middle of stark winter), and smiled, "i'm glad you're here with me." and maybe — just maybe — that was reason enough.)

— and thus, for reasons above explained, in the end, it all started with jeonghan learning jun was loaded. if it weren't for that simple knowledge, he wouldn't be anywhere near where he currently stood.

— which was the open doorway of jun's apartment, garbage in hand, falling in love with you.

"what?"

and you at least had the presence of mind to be flustered by it.

jeonghan could laugh, really. "is that my jacket?"

it totally was, and perhaps the way you fiddled with the sleeve of it and scoffed awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes, was the true giveaway that you knew it most certainly was. "i don't know, is it?"

you were met with smug silence, so of course, you'd elaborate.

"i thought it belonged to my ex. i just chose what looked the warmest. it's storming out there — you might want something more than a sweatshirt if you're taking that all the way to cans." you gestured to the garbage bag — a detail jeonghan had almost forgotten at the sight of you in his clothing.

"you think your ex would have bought that?"

of course he wasn't going to take your bait in changing the subject. that would make things easy. you rolled your eyes, spinning your key ring and making it jingle. "hoseok has great style. it's just different from yours."

"and that jacket is more my style than his."

"it is," you conceded. under jeonghan's gaze you stuck one half of the jacket out, towards him. "do you want it now? you'll need it out there."

"i don't think i will. not when i'll have your sunny presence to warm me."

and for a split second your eyes narrowed. you had just come in from the storm — that much was plain to see from the wet of the jacket to the reusable grocery bag in your hand, full of pantry odds and ends. there was no need to go back out, and you and jeonghan both knew it. and not to mention that the invitation (thinly veiled) was unattractive — stay inside where it was warm or brave the stormy weather once more, all for a garbage run?

"race you to the elevator."

— and see, the truth of the fact was, it wasn't as though you made it difficult to fall in love with you (though even if you had, jeonghan would have liked the challenge, perhaps. there's fun in plenty of things). you were generous, a good conversationalist, you bitched about people with jeonghan but still tried to see the best in them, you were knowledgeable about the most random yet oddly applicable things, and for all of his teasing, you put up with him. perhaps enjoyed him.

— it certainly confused seungcheol, to say the least (but don't such things always confuse brothers).

"as someone who's had a lifetime to cherish your personality, there has to be something wrong with this y/n if they're willingly spending time with you. i'm trying to save my soul, putting up with you on the daily. they have no excuse."

"if i'm going to respond to that, you'll have to give me five minutes to run first."

and it ended with jeonghan quickly pushing away from the table, trying to duck out of seungcheol's grasp; but of course, the older brother and president of the boxing club would get him anyway, and through laughter, attempt to knock some humility into jeonghan (it wouldn't stick).

— but no need to focus on all of that, now. after all, this deep into the semester, jeonghan was busy enough without Crippling Thoughts of Romance.

— the worst damage you wrought thus far was making him choke that day you wandered into karaoke club and he was in the middle of a duet joshuji had managed to cajole him into doing on the spot (you swore up and down that you didn't know he was even in the club to begin with, but something about your flustered behavior and shua's glee at the whole affair made him consider otherwise); while it had been a (minor, he claimed) blow to his pride, it was easily pushed aside. jihoon, the bastard, might bring it up on occasion — the one (1) time angel voice yoon jeonghan chokes, and it's all on camera — but other than that, jeonghan? cool as a cucumber.

the last thing he'd do is be awkward around a crush. jeonghan was cool; jeonghan was suave; jeonghan was speaking in the third person because joshuji had been on a self-love bender a few months back and had said daily affirmations into the mirror every morning, and after finding out and teasing him relentlessly for it, jeonghan unfortunately picked up the habit.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— and now that we've gotten this far, i suppose it's time we bring up Jeonghan Habits™ because there were many, the closer you and jeonghan got to each other, strings of fate drawing you ever nearer, joining you at the hip.

— for one, it seemed that ever since that first unfortunately timed run to the convenience store at hours after-midnight, jeonghan felt comfortable just showing up at all odd hours of the evening, all messy hair and too-big hooded sweatshirts (most stolen from seungcheol, he'd reveal to you one day when you were confused as to just when jeonghan had picked up a love of maltese puppy conventions — enough to get a commemoriative sweatshirt, no less), with the oh-so-enticing offer of going to grab a snack.

he even called it a date, once, when you were wrapped up in three blankets and your fuzzy house slippers, weakly try to convince him to just rummage through you're cupboards instead

"you're so cold you're going to cancel our date? and here i thought we had something real."

(you'd been so flustered by the whole exchange you simply ended up going to the with him, hoping that the act of Just Doing It would buy you time against his rapid fire machine gun comebacks — probably exactly what the fucker had planned in his 4d chessboard of a brain — and jeonghan took the opportunity to file away in his mind the cute expression that crossed your face in the split second that the words hit you fully in the chest and you floundered, wide-eyed into recovery)

— another, of course, was his habit of casually leaving things at your place whenever the two of you hung out; the first few times he left something — his jacket, a pair of sunglasses, necklaces that you don't ever quite recall him taking off to begin with — you promptly returned it with the naive belief that it was a one-off mistake not like to happen again. but it just kept happening, and so eventually, you just stopped returning.

if it were important, jeonghan would have texted you about it — he texted you about all kinds of random things, anyway, his lost socks would be no more strange than texts of ootds or how particularly sparkly his eyes looked that day.

and he never did...

until you started to wear the things he left, of course.

'should i get two of these?' the text came in while you were walking to your next class, taking your sweet time since the weather had cleared up nicely and the campus shuttles were running smoothly — not a single one hand been late all week, a sure change from usual. a moment later your phone chimed again, and jeonghan had sent a picture of a silver ring with a greek key styling. it was cool enough, and fit in nicely with jeonghan's usual style of accessory (not that you were particularly knowledgeable of such things... haha.)

'sure, but why 2?'

'so you can have one of your own instead of stealing it.'

'???!?'

'look at your outfit right now. you're wearing MY necklace. it's been missing for weeks.'

'YOU LEFT IT AT *MY* APARTMENT??????'

'you still have necklaces of your own; didn't have to be mine.'

'😑'

'so what's your ring size?'

'stfu'

— in your defense, you didn't think it was an issue, borrowing the things he'd randomly leave at your apartment. it had started off innocuously enough — seonghwa and momo (your roommates, bless them) needed you to go grab a few last minute ingredients for dinner (they were the ones cooking, so charitably you offered to do the grunt work) and when you couldn't find your own sunglasses, there were jeonghan's, just sitting on your dresser and waiting to be used.

and after that, well... jeonghan had nice style, okay? you were not immune to convenient and accessible clothing. if jeonghan wasn't so forgetful of his own articles of clothing, it wouldn't be the case that you steal his favorite sunglasses and borrow his usual rings and get a little too caught up in the way his cologne lingers on his jackets and night shirts, a smell all-too comforting and somehow tempting...

— you attempted to give the necklace back later that week when you and jeonghan met up to take the domino route to university, but he just shrugged it off and told you that you might as well keep it. he already bought himself another.

and besides. it looked good on you.

— and as for the last of Jeonghan's Habits™ (certified and trademarked, of course, everything jeonghan did was protected by common law)... well... the discovery of this one came later, at a time you weren't expecting it, and so perhaps that explains why it makes you as flustered as it does.

— see, it's of no surprise that yoon jeonghan is clingy in a very positive sense.

being friends with jeonghan is always being kept in the loop, having an ongoing dialogue about most everything, doing lot of Things together and always knowing that if there's something you're even thinking of doing, jeonghan has already cleared his schedule in anticipation of going to do said thing alongside you.

— what surprised you, but really shouldn't have (so perhaps the right word is simply astonished, flustered, made giddy by the realization of), was that he was also very cuddly. and very hard to be talked out of, no less.

— and like, okay, sure, it was kind of hypocritical of you to be taken aback when you'd been indulging jeonghan of his affinity for physical touch for quite some time, now.

the surprise hugs whenever he caught you waiting for the campus shuttle or simply Minding Your Own Business, his inclination towards taking your hand to make you walk a little faster when the two of you were going convenience store diving (yes, again), the quite literal poking and prodding whenever he was attempting to get you to change your mind and agree with his worst impulses... it was all pretty damning, in retrospect. but it never really fazed you: jeonghan's cuddly sort of behavior.

though you had gotten a smug kind of glee whenever you initiated contact and jeonghan's cheeks would warm to a beautiful shade of pink before he'd counter his own seeming embarrassment with a comment like "aaahhhh y/n, you're so familiar, what would others think if they saw you?"

randomly touch jeonghan's forearm, whether to pull him closer for some reason or another or just to softly massage the skin while you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone (instagram scrolling was sacred time you and jeonghan shared — then you didn't have to send him the reel with your comments, you could just tap him on the shoulder and show him). they way jeonghan would get all shy at the touch — like maybe he felt some of those butterflies that perpetually fluttered about in your stomach whenever he was around — was all the satisfaction you could ever need.

— so yes, you were quite used to clingy jeonghan. but cuddly? you had never quite strayed into full cuddle territory... until you did.

— that fateful night, you had lovingly been given notice via a very abrupt group text that you would not be able to return to your apartment for the evening (someone was going to have company over, doing... things that familiar company do) and when you had told jeonghan of your plans to join seonghwa in his trip to the computer rooms at crescent hub (they were open 24 hours and while it was based on reservation, you were almost always able to get a seat), he offered you come to his apartment instead.

either that, or i guess you could spend your time watching the gaming club host whatever tournament they had going on — apparently jun was planning to be gone for Quite Some Time (as a senior member of the club) and shua was there... for moral support? that part was unclear, to be quite honest, but it wasn't as though shua ever needed a reason to be Busy and Outgoing, so it didn't quite matter much, in the end.

"why aren't you at crescent hub with your roommates, then?"

"and encourage them? ah... don't make me look soft."

and you're sure that the way you roll your eyes can be heard through the phone.

"i had an assignment to finish." / "you had work to finish."

"but! it's all been submitted now."

"then i'll meet you."

— after all, it's not like you were a stranger to jun's apartment — you'd hung out there plenty of times as your bond with jeonghan deepened and your friendship to shua and jun grew — and they did have a rather comfy couch... you were almost certain jeonghan's offer implied and unspoken 'you can at least get some comfortable sleep on our vertiable cloud of a couch when i'm done prying at the finer details as to just who momo decided to bring home.'

you both, after all, had a deep-seeded delight for gossip.

— and when you got there, it was exactly what you expected: jeonghan had seemingly raided the pantry finding ingredients so the two of you could make dakdoritang — excepting the carrot, of course.

despite his seeming love for convenience store runs and general lazy attitude toward preparing his own meals, cooking together seemed to be something jeonghan enjoyed lately — or at least, that's what you surmised. to you, it seemed that one day jeonghan woke up and chose cooking as a new hobby.

if you were to ask jeonghan, he would brush it off, of course, probably saying something about his mom visiting and praising jun's affinity for cooking and there was no way jeonghan could let the bastard win — but really all it had taken was one (1) absentminded hand on his chest from you and a "hannie, can you pass me the garlic cloves?" for him to make cooking with you a new personality trait of his. go figure.

— and so the two of you made your stew while debating which movie you should watch when you were done. you ended up compromising on some drama that you'd seen people claim was so bad it was good, and it really was. the cringe,,,, the mutual yelling at the tv,,,,,,, threatening the lives of fictional characters,,,,,,, talking over whole dialogue scenes because you had a brilliant rewrite in mind and jeonghan simply couldn't resist the way you looked when there was an earnestness in your eyes and an opinion on your lips,,,,

it was quite late, indeed, before you even knew it. and when you switched the tv to a music video you really wanted to show jeonghan, the autoplay sort of took over, and your mind sort of shut down... drifted off to sleep.

— you woke up at some point in the early morning; the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening wasn't the sound you were used to, in your apartment two doors down, and it was just enough to snap you awake momentarily, still half in dream yet with one foot in reality.

it was just shua and jun, and they whispered an apology before padding off to their respective rooms (jun his own, shua his shared room with hannie), clearly worn out from their gaming activities.

— but that little push to semi-wakefulness was just enough for you to take stock of where you were, and you noticed belatedly that jeonghan had never left to go back to his room. you were both sleeping on the couch, legs intertwined; jeonghan was resting his head on your shoulder and your hands were reaching out, as if almost to give him a subconscious hug.

— the embarrassment ran through your nervous system almost instantly, and when you made to slowly and gently move your limbs so you were less... interwoven, jeonghan stirred and, still sleeping, pulled you back towards him. perhaps even closer than before.

you couldn't help yourself. a giggle escaped you; perhaps half nerves, mostly endearment. jeonghan stirred again and the sound and you covered your mouth, not wanting to wake him.

he stilled soon enough, and before drifting off again, you kissed him on the forehead.

— when you fully woke up the next morning, jeonghan had already began his day, but he didn't even try to hide the fact that the both of you had unwittingly unlocked a new feature in this friendship of yours. he sort of just... took the night prior as a confirmation that cuddling was on the list of approved actions and refused to let go of you, after.

not that it bothered you, of course.

it just seemed that the butterflies in your stomach were given wild energy at this new development; all your strategies for calming them suddenly ineffective.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— so.

if you had asked jeonghan at any point in his life if he were good at manipulating, his answer would be an unequivocable yes.

deceit? of course.

scheming? obviously.

lying? naturally.

blackmailing? most assuredly.

gaslighting, gatekeeping, girlbossing? undoubtedly.

changing criteria? yes.

moving goalposts? clearly.

hiding the apparent? well...

— see, the thing is... you get so good at the others that concealing the obvious isn't exactly necessary. everyone might know to be wary of the scheming, cheating, self-serving yoon jeonghan, but it didn't change the fact that he was so astute at the rest of it, image didn't exactly matter.

and besides, why save face when it was so fun to see people accuse him of what they were all very aware?

— so yes, jeonghan was quite skilled at all manner of deception. the one facet he was not so adept in was hiding his feelings toward the matter.

— thus, it should be no surprise that everyone and their mother knew jeonghan had a crush.

and it was only getting worse.

— don't ask jun when he put the dots together — he was more emotionally intellectual than he let on most of the time — and don't ask joshuji when either — that fucker had this quirk where he joked about something before it had real honest basis, but in some way only attributed to the gift of clairvoyance, he always seemed to be right. if you were to ask joshua, he'd likely recall the first time he had looked at jeonghan and wiggled his eyebrows and call that he knew then (he didn't; at least, not really).

— as for s.coups... well, don't ever ask cheol anything about jeonghan. he'd rather die than give it to you straight.

please. when he could embarrass jeonghan? seungcheol lives for that shit.

after all, what else are older brothers for?

— so yes, it was obvious to those close to him that jeonghan was in the long-suffering limbo of Having A Thing For Your Best Friend But Not Acting On It, and it had been apparent for months.

— after all, it felt like centuries ago that joshua had offered to play matchmaker for jeonghan and you — the veritable apple of his eye — and set the two of you up on a date.

it had been some lazy morning and jun nearly spit out his breakfast.

"you'd both love it! i'd get jihoon to play something romantic on the violin; well, maybe recorder—"

cue jun choking once more.

"and you could be there waiting in full suit and tie."

"with couples rings waiting in the bread basket." and joshua's eyes went comically and maniacally wide at jun's inclusion.

"ah, cheol would crash any date like that."

"but then y/n could get his blessing!"

— at some point, jun was at his wits end.

in his defense, it was him who had to see the two of you be all sweet and love-struck all the time, giggling and teasing each other on his couch in his apartment while all he's trying to do is eat a sorry excuse of a subway sandwich (eat fresh.) before jetting off to his internship again.

if you had to see that shit while eating soggy bread you'd be annoyed, too.

one more "aigoooo" while jeonghan squishes your cheeks, and you bat him away with a roll of your eyes and jun would take a knife out of the block behind him.

— especially when jeonghan started calling you "angel" at every chance he got. had jun's eye twitching, it did. never had he regretted getting roommates until jeonghan fell in love.

one day jun learned that the phrase "get a room" made at least one of you self conscious enough to at least tone it down, and he never stopped weaponizing it, since.

— of course, overtime jun's protests became background noise, but once, when your roommates and jeonghan's all went to the museum of fine arts together to celebrate the end of finals week (it was free admission so long as you had your svtu activities card), jun had deadpanned his new favorite phrase in the middle of the outdoor conversation area. jeonghan had turned to you grinning, like it was the excuse he'd been waiting for all day, and after a lighthearted "shall we?" you grabbed his hand and the two of you pranced off to explore the sculpture terrace.

jeonghan had raised an eyebrow at your choice of exhibit, but you pulled him over to a sculpture of a human figure with black wings and flashed a smile: “it’s not a private room, but i think it works.”

“if you’d prefer it, i’m sure there’s a custodial closet we could go to instead. i bet there's one right outside, even.”

you snorted. “and if i did kiss you? what would you do then?"

— you stunned him into silence. him. yoon jeonghan. 

— right as he was about to recover and shoot back some smartass comment, you laughed — the sound clear and playful, bright and radiating with warmth — and then you wandered to where they showcased student work.

— umm... uhhh... WHATTHEFUCKWEREYOUDOING WHATTHEFUCKWASGOINGONNNNNN

“angel.”

you hummed absentmindedly, only half hearing jeonghan through the internal screaming reverberating in your skull.

“y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”

he was closer now, if you focused, you were sure you could feel him, inching closer, right behind you, just to your right…

— he kissed your cheek: half on the corner of your lips, half on the soft of your skin.

— you couldn’t help yourself. you turned.

“if you were bold enough to kiss me here, i’d kiss you back. then i’d be scandalized, ‘how forward!’”

your mouth opened: in shock, in delight, in laughter, in a heavenly mix of the three. jeonghan just stood there, all self-satisfied grin.

“you could waste your time finding a comeback, or you could be forward.”

“i think i have time for both.”

☄. *. ⋆

end of file .

SVT (sophrosyne; virtù; truth) University hopes you've enjoyed your stay !

[justmeinadaze]

My Little Man Part 2 (Steddie X You)(Part of the HFOD and SS AU)

A/N: Took awhile to get through this because it made me feel things lol but I'm excited for the next chapter because I know what I want to do smut wise which will involve some slight role-play. ;).

Warning: Demon Steddie/ Human Fem Y/N, Smut but light, dirty talk, FLUFF, they love each other and their son. ANGST ABOUND!

Fall out from the last chapter, boys fight about it, Y/N suggests they go back to a certain realm to deal with certain things, details of both demons abuse is expanded on including Eddie's dad being physically violent and Steve's father being verbally a dick (so child abuse trigger for sure), Mentions of sick parents (I never gave either of her parents a diagnoses nor did I give them specific systems that allude to anything), mentions of talking care of a sick parent. I think that's it.

Word Count: 5131

First 2 Series and Last Chapter Here/ Donate to Me :)

Eddie growls as you fall through the portal, swatting away the other demon’s hands as he bends down to try and help you to your feet. 

“Where are we?”

“Oblivion.”, Steve whispers as he backs away from you both. 

“Why would a realm like this even exist?”

“It’s not uncommon to have ‘dead’ realms. This one is just most known because of its strength.”

“Strength?”

“If all realms collapsed, this is the only one that would remain standing.”

You jumped at the sound of Eddie’s wings expanding as he flew forward and tackled Steve off his feet, watching as they rolled onto the floor and began to wrestle. Neither demon said a thing as they delivered blow after blow occasionally flying over your head before falling to the ground. 

After a while, you found yourself getting annoyed as nothing was progressing. You understand this may be how they handled things back home but even you knew Eddie was so angry that this wouldn’t be enough for him. 

“Is this what you two are going to do the whole time?!”, you shouted in the air towards them. “Or are you going to actually talk to each other!?!”

Steve hit the ground by your feet rolling to a stop as the other demon glided to the ground charging towards him. Placing yourself between them, you blocked his path. 

“You were supposed to stay behind.”

“Why? So you guys could handle this alone?! I’m not mad at him for what he did in his dream. Why are you?!”

Eddie grunted in fury as his eyes glowed while you spoke. 

“HE didn’t know it was a dream! HE thought it was real and that’s how he acted!! He let his father get the fucking best of him and then tried to FUCKING KILL ME before stabbing you which I haven’t forgotten, Y/N. What the fuck were YOU thinking?!”

“I was thinking you needed me and he would fucking die if anything ever happened to you! You aren’t just his partner, Edward. You’re his best friend! You’ve known him for over 4,000 years! You’ve known me for about a year and a half. It’s not the same…”

“What?! So, you’re fucking expendable?! Is that what you’re telling me right now, Y/N?! Then why the fuck did we risk our lives and sanity to get you that fucking potion?!”

“Calm down, Eddie.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, little girl.”

You both stared each other down as Steve slowly rose to his feet and placed himself in front of you.

“Go ahead.”, he panted. “Let’s keep going. Please.” The other demon glances him over growling again as he places his hands on his hips and turns away. “No! You’re right. I deserve it. I fucked up. I was blinded with trying to find Ellis, I wasn’t thinking.”

He started to cry and your heart broke as he continued to try to get Eddie to fight him. 

“Come on, baby, PLEASE! Do it!”, Steve shouted as he shoved him trying to instigate. “Come on! I deserve it! Like Mirage said, I wasn’t raised to do anything else but fight! This was bound to happen. I was bound to fucking hurt one of you!”

“Fuck me! I’m so FUCKING TIRED of hearing her fucking name! She’s gone, Steven! Mirage isn’t here. She’s fucking miserable in her own realm! Now can we let that be a part of our past and move on!”

“It’s not just her, Edward! This is all I know. Fighting and war. How am I supposed to be a father and fucking husband without becoming my dad!”

“Boyfriend.”

“What?”

“You said husband. Even though I’d marry you both in a heartbeat…we’re not.”, you sigh. 

Both men exhale heavily while Eddie crosses his arms. 

“By your logic, Steve, that means I can’t be a father or partner without becoming MY dad.”

Growling yourself, you step forward and punch them both in their arms. 

“That’s it! Steven, take us back to Espejismo.”

“What, why?”

“Don’t argue just fucking do it!”

“Wh-what about Ellis?”

“He’s asleep and he won’t be hungry for another four hours. Now, take us to Mirage.”

“Y/N, you’re in your pajamas—”

Your angry eyes cut him off as he hastily steps forward and does what you command. 

##############

As soon as you three step through, you are met with sunshine and people walking around the market you had appeared in. 

“Hey there, Y/N.”, a little girl grins up at you. “It’s nice to see you again. No one ever comes back to visit me.”

“Hm. I wonder why. Cut the bullshit. We need to talk.”

The world around you abruptly disappears as Mirage comes forward and scans you over with her hazel eyes. 

“That’s not usually something I do, baby. You three passed your test but I’m not going to lie after what I’m seeing I’m second guessing my choice. I was under the impression that you were stronger than the woman you used to be.”

“I am.”

“Then why are you here? Edward is right. Steven thought it was a reality and killed you.”

“If you can see what happened you should also be able to see part of that is because of what you put them through. We still have nightmares about what we saw. They deserve to see… see what the other is afraid of.”

Mirage thinks for a moment as he eyes glance towards them and back to you. 

“Tell them the truth and I’ll do what you ask.”

Turning to face them, their worried eyes meet yours. 

“I forgot we were in a dream. Like Steven, in that moment, I thought it was real. If it had been…I would have made the same choice. Out of the four of us, yes Edward, I feel like I’m the most expendable.”

Their eyes glow in anger as you swivel back towards the other woman who nods her head and gestures at the door to your side. 

“You can see things but like with what you saw with their memories you can’t interact.”

“Thank you.”, you mumble as you push through and they follow.

#################

“Fantastic. Back in this fucking hell hole. I’m really glad we came back to this realm, guys.”, Eddie growls sarcastically as you three find yourselves in his childhood home. 

“What’s your plan, Y/N? Why did you want to show us this?”, Steve asks.

“Not him. You.”

The sound of small sniffles catches the demon’s attention as he heads towards the sound, sighing at the sight of a child Eddie sitting on his bed with tears in his eyes as he stares at a photo of him and his mother. 

“EDWARD?!”

Quickly the tiny demon shoves the picture under his bed and rises to his feet.

 Steve is just now realizing he’s in a suit and so is his father as he stomps into the room. 

“What are you doing in here?!”

“Leave the boy alone, Allen. He just lost his mother.”, Wayne pleads, trying to intervene without making things worse. 

“Yeah. Now he doesn’t have someone here to fucking baby him. Come on, you little brat.”

As his dad pushes him down the hall, Steve tries to follow but is cut off by an older Eddie who tries to head for the door but is stopped when a glass bottle is thrown against the wall near his body.

“Wow, you missed. Were you aiming for me?”

“Always so fucking mouthy. Where are you going?”

“I’m going to Wayne’s. Is that a problem?”

“Hm. So he can show you another stupid fucking guitar? Pfft, I never understood why your mom was into that.”

“Well, mom was into a lot of things I don’t understand.”, he said sarcastically as he sized his father up. 

A slow chuckle left him before his father swung and Eddie hit the floor. 

Steve stepped forward with a loud growl prepared to defend the man he loved but the images in front of him vanished until he heard coughing and turned to find him bloodied on the floor. He watched as Allen stepped over him, grabbing his jacket, and leaving the house without so much as a goodbye. 

Eddie panted as he pushed himself up and leaned against the wall, spitting blood towards the door his father left through. 

The demon wanted to hold him, collect him in his arms and tell him everything would be ok, but all he could do was look as the vision of the other demon dried the tears that threatened to fall and forced himself to his feet.

“T-That’s who you’re afraid you’re going to become? You genuinely believe you could do something like THIS to us or our son?”

Eddie’s jaw tightened as he ignored Steve’s question, choosing to exit through the front door hoping it would take him anywhere else. To his surprise, it does. 

As you and Steve follow, the long-haired demon realizes you guys are back in the other demon’s childhood home. The sound of metal clanking caught everyone’s attention until you found yourselves in what must have been a training room on the other side of his home. 

Steve looked like he was in his early teens dressed in ill-fitting armor as his father came at him with full force, swinging his sword violently in his direction. 

“Come. On. STEVEN! What did I say?! No one is going to go easy on you out in the field. Do you want to die?!”

“NO! I’m just exhausted. Can we take a break?”

“Do you think there are breaks in war, son?! No!” 

The young demon hastily blocked his father’s sword as it came down from above and they maneuvered across the room. His feet suddenly gave out as he fell to the ground and even Eddie rushed towards him to stop the blade as it hit the floor just inches from Steve’s face.

“Congratulations, you are now dead. You failed me, your men, and broke your mother’s heart. Your wife is somewhere crying and mourning your death and your children will grow up to be just as pathetic as you.”, Bill sighed in annoyance as he tossed his weapon to the ground and exited the room. 

Eddie’s heart broke as he watched an angry Steve tear off pieces of his armor and throw them to the side as he tried to control his tears. 

The setting around you changed as his mother followed after a much older version of his dad. 

“Bill, we have to find him! It’s been over 50 years and I MISS MY SON!”

His father grabbed her wrist and shoved her into a nearby chair. 

“When will you get this through your head? We have no son! The kid we raised killed a fellow solider and deserted with a murderer. Not just any murderer, Janet! Edward Munson slaughtered our princess! Forget about him and move on! He deserves whatever hell he’s enduring.”

Steve’s head hung at his father’s words and you comfortingly reached out to rub his back.

The images around you three faded and you were surrounded by emptiness again. 

“He was so convincing, Edward. In my dreams, he sounds just like that. He said Ellis would die because he hasn’t been trained yet but I have. I have the training to save him.”

“No, Steven, you don’t.”

Even your head tilted at Eddie’s comment before he continued. 

“He was training you to be like him and failed. Thank fucking God. This isn’t you. You told me so many stories but actually seeing it… you have never been capable of being a dick like him. You need to stop letting him win.”

“Me? What about you? You think you could ever do that to Y/N or Ellis? Edward, you literally don’t have it in you. Trust me, that kid is so much like you, full of humor and heart. He could never hurt anyone and neither could you. Not like that. 

You and Mirage grin as they practically run to each other, cupping the other’s face as they kiss.

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to be better and stop letting my emotions take over when I’m upset. I promise I’ll stop shutting you two out. I love you both so much.”

“What about you, Y/N?”, Mirage asks. 

“What about me?”

“Oh, ok. So, you aren’t going to tell them why you think you’re the expendable one?” She shakes her head as you ignore her. “You came to me for help, honey, and I’m going to help.”

“No, Mirage, don’t--!” 

The atmosphere shifts and suddenly you’re in a hospital hallway. Your dad cuts between your demon’s and they hastily turn to follow. 

“Hey Jackie. How are things today?”, your father asks the nurse who was watching over an adolescent you as you laid in the hospital bed with your arm wrapped around your mom who was sleeping soundly. 

“She had a rough day today. Of course, she tried to hide it behind jokes and trying to get the staff to stand on their toes but…” They both chuckle softly as she pats your dad’s shoulder. “Y/N fell asleep about an hour ago. She was trying to help her with her math homework but a coughing fit got in the way.”

“Thank you…for everything.”

The images blur till you’re back home and the demons watch as a 16-year-old you sobs on the couch. 

“Baby, everything’s going to be ok.”

“No, dad! No it’s not! How can everything be ok when you’re fucking sick to!?”

Your father wraps his arms around you as he tries to calm you. 

“I’m sure it IS fine. This is just a diagnosis, honey. I’ve been pretty healthy and they have so many treatments available. I’m…I’ll be here for a long time.”

An 18-year-old version of you sits outside your high school against the wall on the last day, flipping through a paper you got an A on. 

“I still think you should submit that to a contest or something.”, your English teacher grins as she comes up to your side and sits beside you.

“Naw. No point really.”

“Why not?”

“I just got hired at the clothing store in the mall. Between that and taking care of my dad, I won’t have time to submit or make any edits. Even if I do win, I can’t go to the award ceremony out of state.”

“So, you’re just not going to be a writer anymore?”

You shrug.

“Life has different plans for me, I guess. It’s fine. I have my dad so…”

“I think your parents would want you to be happy.”

Smiling, you rise to your feet as you grab your bag. 

“Um, thank you for teaching me, Mrs. Garett. I learned a lot from you over these last four years.”

As your image pushes past them, someone follows close behind as the demons realize they’re now outside the mall you used to work at. 

“Fuck you! Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Look, will you wait a second!?”, the boy shouts as he continues to try and buckle his pants. “I’m sorry, ok?! I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“Oh so when WOULD have been the right time to tell me you’re fucking one of my coworkers?! I’m surprised I haven’t caught you yet if your both just being so out in the open with it!”

“So am I since it’s not the first time Carol and I have fucked in the break room!” Steve’s eyes glow in anger as he steps towards you both but Eddie stops him placing a hand on his chest. “You’re never around! You’re always either working crazy hours or…”

“Or what? Taking care of my sick dad? You’re right. I’m such a monster! Fuck me.”

The boy sighs, placing his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry, babe. I just—”

“Just go. Just fucking leave…like everyone else.”, your voice cracks as you turn away from him. 

As the sound of his shoes gradually disappear, you let out a loud scream into the Hawkins night sky before wiping away your tears, straightening your uniform, and heading back into the mall to finish your shift. 

Everything falls away as they turn to meet your frustrated face as you tightly fold your arms around your body. 

“Tell them.”, Mirage encourages.

“Fuck you.”

“Tell us, Y/N.”, Eddie insists.

You shrug as the tears start to flow. 

“You saw it. Both your dads were fuckers who hurt you both. Edward, you lost your mom and Chrissy. Steven, I felt how bad Nancy hurt you. Then you were so terrified something happened to Eddie and it killed you because you felt like now with the princess gone you were losing all your friends. You kept an extra close eye on Robin until you got a lead and went with Jason to find him. You both were banished and then cursed to that stupid fucking stone for…3000…years…”

“My dad lost the woman he loved. He always said he was fine and that she gave him ‘the best gift’ he could ask for but I saw it. I saw how much it destroyed him. And how was he repaid for his pain?! He got sick to. You both deserve to be happy. You were together and in love way before you ever met me. You deserve to be together in peace and be the fathers you never got.”

Both demons stared at you as they listened to you speak with wide eyes as they absorbed what you were saying. 

“Am I the only one who hasn’t lost their fucking mind?”, Eddie growls. “Are you going to stand there and tell me you’re the most expendable because you think you haven’t suffered as much as we have?”

“Even if that were true and let’s be fucking clear here it’s not.”, Steve rumbled in anger. “After what I just saw, Y/N…that’s a lot for one human to deal with. You carried the world on your shoulders way before we even came along.”

“It wasn’t that bad—”

“Y/N! It was fucking terrible! How can you not see… FUCK!”

“You lost your parents just like we did and you were trapped to. Maybe not in a stone but in Hawkins serving people who really didn’t give a damn except your dad. Like you with us, he saved you, sweetheart, and this is how you’re going to repay him? By throwing away your life if the opportunity arose?!”

“Excuse me.” The three of you swivel around to glare at Mirage, completely forgetting she was even there. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing but to be fair no one ever comes back here so…I’d like to show you something.”

After she disappears, you three find yourself in a huge, two-story house you had never been to before. As you walk down the hallway, you pass a bedroom covered from head to toe in band posters and clothes thrown everywhere. There was a stereo playing a song you didn’t recognize and a guitar not too far from it’s side. 

Suddenly, a boy’s voice fills your ears as he appears from his closet with his back to you as he slides on his leather jacket and hastily strolls to the mirror. His long wavy hair barely covers his horns but they still aren’t as big as Eddie’s or Steve’s. He had a bit of a lanky frame but you could tell he was strong as his muscles just barely peaked through the band shirt he was wearing with his slightly too big jeans.

“In the car, I just can't wait To pick you up on our very first date Is it cool if I hold your hand? Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?”

Your eyelids flutter at the sound of his voice as he sings and tears prick at the corner of your eyes. You’d know that sound anywhere. 

“Ellis.”

“Ellis! Hurry up, baby, or you’re gonna be late for school!”

“I’m coming, mom! Give me a minute!”

“Can you please grab your sister to?! Thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah.”, he grins.

“He still has your smile, Steven.”, Eddie marveled.

Both demons moved aside as their son passed them into the hallway with you in tow, pausing outside another bedroom. 

“Hey, Dell. Are you ready? Mom’s calling for you.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to go.”

“Oh, you whiner. You’ll be fine, come on. One more semester and then you’ll be in high school.”

“But you won’t be there.”

“I know. Won’t it be great!”

“No.”, the girl whines. 

“Hey, you know you’re my best friend right? Wherever I go it won’t be far.”

She smiles as he pulls her into his embrace while you watch their exchange. This young lady’s room was fairly simple with pictures scattered above a desk in the corner with her and her friends. There appeared to be fencing trophies lining her shelf that Steve picked up to examine. 

“Fencing is sword fighting, right?” The demon breathily chuckles when you nod. “This thing here says she got first place in a league of some kind.”

“It looks like she’s into stones and auras like you.”, Eddie adds as he gestures towards her bedside table at the books and candles surrounding the lamp. 

As they looked around the room, you were looking at them, your children. Unlike her brother, he horns were much smaller and you could just vaguely make out the shape of small wings folded under her tank top. The brown hair on her head was the same as Steve’s but with your style as it rested just above her shoulders. Just like Ellis, however, her eyes and voice were a mix of human and demon.

“Guys! Let’s a get a move on!”

The three of you followed them down the stairs but paused in different places. You entered the living room and took in the photos around you. There were so many of 5 smiling faces that had your heart soaring. It seems you and your demons took them everywhere from Disneyland to Paris showing them the world. Some images were of your kids with Robin and Wayne as well as a million pictures of your children hanging out with Dustin’s in their realm. 

Steve and Eddie watched you as you effortlessly maneuvered around the kitchen, sliding breakfast in front of them as you continued to make lunches and get ready for the day. 

“Steven, she has a scar on her neck.”, the other demon murmured hoping you wouldn’t overhear as he pointed the area. “It looks old and faded but it’s not one she has now.”

A portal opening interrupts them as Steve steps through. 

“Kids. Wife.”, he greets making you giggle. 

“Holy shit, she does have a ring on her finger.”, the demon breathes as you search for a photo of the event to find none. 

“How’s Robin and Jonathan?”

“She’s good. We just did a quick patrol to make sure everything’s ok and went over some information. Nancy should be back tomorrow from the realm she was visiting with more intel so…” He grinned as he leaned down to give you a kiss. 

“Am I a fucking demon slayer now?”

“I mean, you do seem happier.”, Eddie beams. “And you look fucking sexy.”

The sound of feet catches everyone’s attention as the metalhead himself runs down the stairs. 

“Shit. I’m late.”

“Hi, daddy.”

“Hi, daddy.”, Ellis mimics making her pout as she smacks her brother’s shoulder. 

With a smile and a hastened pace, he leans down to kiss his daughter and son before overdramatically placing a kiss on you and Steve’s lips with loud MUAH noises that follow. 

“Love you, family, see you tonight!”, he shouts as he slings his guitar over his shoulder and runs out the door. 

“I’m done, mom.”, your youngest announces as she passes her plate to you. 

“Delilah Munson-Harrington, you didn’t even finish everything! You’re going to be hungry.”

At the name, your heart shatters as you start to cry. 

“Mom, oh my god. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll make her eat a snack or something, mom, I promise.”, Ellis declares as he passes you his empty plate and they grab the lunches you made them. “Are you driving us, dad?”

“Yeah of course.”

Red light shimmers as they all change into their human form and run out the door. 

Mirage grins softly as she places herself beside you and comfortingly rubs your back with her palm. 

“They suggested naming her after your mother, Y/N. Both kids are exceptionally bright and resourceful. They love Hawkins but also their father’s realm. They can float between both without any pain and they love you three very much. You don’t want to see a world without you, sweetie.”

Steve is the first to step forward as his fingers caressed your cheek and wiped away the tears that stained your face. 

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper. 

“Y/N, you don’t have to be that martyr anymore. You saved the world, you saved us… you always used to say, ‘no matter what happens as long as we’re together we’ll be ok.’ I still believe that, honey. I’m so sorry I didn’t talk to you either about what was going on. It will never happen again, I promise. Jesus, that image of you with my sword…hurting you…I’d do anything to make sure that never becomes a reality.” 

“You’re not and never have been expendable, sweetheart. You mean so much to so many beings… even ones that aren’t here anymore.”, Eddie softly smiled as he came up beside you. “You’re a part of us, babe. We love you so much.”

You tackled your arms around him as Steve did the same. 

“Oh, oh ok, now. That’s enough touching and love in my realm. Go do that in your own.”, Mirage jokes as she flaps her hands towards you three in shooing motion. “Please, um, feel free to stop by again. I don’t usually get repeats.”

#############

As you enter your home, you quickly run to check on Ellis to find him still asleep and you can’t help but smile as you pet his tiny head. 

When you entered your bedroom again, you found Eddie pinning Steve’s wrists to the mattress as they passionately exchanged kisses. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve taken control and kept you in line, huh, baby?”

“I’m sorry, honey.”, he panted as his lips chased the other demon’s. “I love you.”

Swiftly flipping onto his back, the long-haired demon grinned as he motioned for you to join them. 

“Still asleep?”

“Fast asleep.”, you beam. 

“Good.” Craning his neck, his lips tenderly kissed your own before he groaned against them as Steve took his cock into his mouth and sloppily bobbed his head as spit fell from his mouth. “Fuck, that’s it, Steven.”

Taking a hold of his hair, he held the boy still as he fucked up in him, relishing the sound of his gags as his throat constricted around him. 

“Good boy.”, the demon grunted before bringing his lips back to his own and pushing him onto his back once more. Holding his legs open wide, Eddie guided himself into the demon beneath him as they both rumbled a soft growl from their chest. “Good…boy…”

“P-Please. Harder, baby. Fuck.” The long-haired demon leaned his chest against Steve’s and passionately kissed him as he rolled his hips roughly into his own. “Just like that. I love you s-so much. I’m so sorry.”

The demon underneath him whined when he pushed back up onto his knees and stopped moving but quickly silenced himself when he realized his partner was tugging you on top of him. 

When you lowered yourself onto his leaking cock, Steve’s back arched as whimpered at the feeling. 

“Fuck!”

Your hand hastily covered his mouth as you both continued your steady rhythm. 

“Shhhh, baby. You can’t wake up Ellis.” His strong arms wrapped around you and held you against him as you ground your waist down against his. “I love you both so much.”

“Love y-you, honey. Oh my god. I missed the way your pussy felt.”

A sweat covered forehead leaned against your back and you groaned as you felt him murmur against your skin. 

“Fuck…fucking can’t stop thinking a-about you as our wife… Ours, sweetheart. Claimed. Mmph…

“I’d-I’d marry you both. I’ll always be yours. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Steve’s fingers tangled tightly in your hair, clinging tightly to you as your body trembled and the coil snapped. As both demons filled you with their release, neither let you go as you fell to your sides. 

The sound of cooing makes you three giggle as Steve announces he’ll grab “the little monster”.

“Y/N, what if…we could get married?”

“I told you, Eddie. I’d say yes and marry you both in an instant.”, you grin as you roll over and cuddle up into his chest. 

“I’m serious, sweetheart.”

His tone causes you to sit up and he does the same as his eyes meet your own.

“What are you trying to tell me, Edward?”

Steve reenters the room with a big smile and an equally happy baby as Ellis beams down at you both.

“I did some research a long time ago in our realm when Chrissy and I were together. I wanted to know the rules when it came to royalty and peasants like me. I remember reading something about how you could be married up to two people.”

You and the other demon exchanged a look as he continued.

“I don’t know how it would all work though because I would assume it would be between three demons and you’re a human. Add in that back in that time there was some backwards rules on men marry men and vise versa. I’m not sure how that would be now either…”

“Eddie? Are you asking us to marry you?”, you ask in a lighthearted tone that makes him blush and roll his eyes. 

“I mean yeah kind of I guess. I’m just asking if the option is available would you…would you want to?”

“Baby, I went through a trial with a witch or goddess or whatever to get a potion that would keep me alive and with you both as long as you both shall live. I would gladly do it again to marry you.”, you smile as you tilt towards him to kiss his cheek. “Both of you.”

“Me to.”, Steve confirms, grabbing the demon’s cheeks in his fingers and bringing his lips to his own. “You’re really adorable when you’re nervous.”

“Pfft, shut up.”, Eddie jokes as he reaches for his son who giggles and falls into his arms. “And you’ll be our best little man.”

#################

@tlclick73 @tiannamortis @steeldaisies @goodhappyfriday @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

@strangerthings64 @howlingco @eddiesguitarskills

@prettypeachsworld @nailbatanddungeon @notlempet @thwippyparker

[starmocha]

12:30 PM Checkup Zayne + Son | 767 words | AO3 Zayne has an appointment with a very adorable doctor. A/N: Maybe I’m ovulating or something lmao but I want this man’s babies. But since he’s fictional, I’ll settle for writing little self-indulgent ficlets. 🫠

It was one of Zayne’s very few days off, and unfortunately, he found himself at the doctor’s office for a routine checkup. It was fortunate, however, that the doctor was someone he was very familiar with and trusted completely with his health. As a matter of fact, the very esteemed doctor was his three-year-old son and the so-called doctor’s office was his son’s bedroom.

He watched with amusement as the little boy, a spitting image of his father minus the hair color, adjusted his doctor play clothes. Zayne could barely contain his chuckle when his son put on the faux round-rimmed glasses and walked over to him holding a clipboard while maintaining a comically stoic expression on his young face.

“Patient’s name is…Daddy!” the young doctor declared, looking expectantly at his patient.

Zayne chuckled and nodded. “Correct, Doctor.”

“I have to listen to Daddy’s heart,” the little boy said, holding up his toy stethoscope. He pressed the toy to his father’s chest, and looked thoughtful as he “listened” to the grown man’s heart. After a few seconds, he nodded approvingly. “Heart is good, Daddy.”

Zayne sighed in relief. “Thank goodness, Doctor.” He blinked in surprise as his son pulled out a reflex hammer.

“Daddy’s knee now!”

Over the next few minutes, the young doctor performed a thorough examination on his patient, checking his ear, eyes, throat, and so on, all while diligently scribbling his notes down onto his clipboard. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he reviewed the notes from the wellness exam.

“Well, Doctor,” Zayne started, looking at the young boy expectantly, “Is there a diagnosis?”

The boy nodded grimly. “Daddy is tired.”

Zayne held back his laugh at the child’s acute observation. “What would be your prescription for such an ailment then?”

“One strawberry candy every day,” his doctor replied, adding another scribble to his clipboard.

Zayne actually chuckled this time. “Consider it done.” His voice took on a serious tone as he looked at the little doctor concerned. “Doctor, I believe my insurance isn’t covered under your practice. May I use an alternative payment?”

The young doctor looked thoughtful as he rubbed his chin again before holding up three chubby fingers, answering with a serious expression, “Three macarons.”

“Outrageous!” Zayne exclaimed, mock-offended, “My previous checkup only costed me one box of apple juice.”

Zayne wondered belatedly if his tone and expression might have seemed a touch stiff when he realized his doctor was starting to tear up. He knelt down to his son’s level and wiped at the boy’s eyes, apologizing softly, “I didn’t mean to upset you. Daddy is just joking.” He smiled when his son calmed down and he rubbed the boy’s cheek affectionately, “Three macarons it is, but I am afraid payment will have to be postponed until after naptime.”

“No nap!” The boy crossed his arms defiantly. “I still have to check Mr. Seal and Pan-Pan and the Windy Carrots and—”

“Even doctors take naps,” Zayne interrupted with a firm voice before softening it again, “One might even argue that doctors enjoy naps the most.”

The boy looked up at him dejected. “Do you nap, Daddy?”

“Yes,” Zayne answered with a nod as he helped his son remove the doctor costume and put away some of the toys. He gathered his son into his arms as he carried the little boy to his bed. “Sometimes I nap in my car or office in between surgeries.” He tucked his son into bed, kissing his cheek. “Now, won’t you be a good boy and take your nap for Daddy?”

“Story?” his son gave him the most pitiful pout a three-year-old can muster.

Zayne sighed, half-exasperated and half-amused. “You are just like your mother,” he muttered to himself before sitting down on the edge of the boy’s bed. “Alright, one story.”

Zayne outstretched his hand, conjuring up snowy imageries as he spun a tale with evil carrots that had taken over an innocent kingdom. Thankfully, one brave seal stood up against this evil force and taken them down along with help from Happy Snowman and its friends.

The boy watched the snowy scenery with rapt fascination as it changed following Zayne’s storytelling. As Zayne neared the end of his impromptu story, he noticed his son’s sleepy face, catching sight of a yawn escaping. He smiled to himself and quickly wrapped up the story as he re-tucked the sleepy boy into bed.

“Sweet dreams,” Zayne whispered, kissing the top of his son’s head as the little boy finally dozed off, “When you wake up, Daddy will take you and Mommy out for macarons.”

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐍 ✮ PEDRI

summary. your boyfriend loves you more than yesterday but less than tomorrow.

warnings. none just pure fluff. i’m so glad my starboy is back.

gabri speaks! listened to iman by maria becerra and it’s so pedri coded. had to write this immediately.

the herd of sweaty players heading through the tunnel to their respective locker rooms was a surreal sight. this was the biggest assignment you had gotten in the three years of you working for a sports journalism column. obviously you knew your boyfriend had a hand in the big step and often received sly remarks from the coworkers you had never gotten along with because of it. luckily for you, you had never been one to undermine yourself or listen to the comments of others.

there was also your boyfriend who would constantly read your pieces out loud and compliment you on your endless knowledge of the sport and plethora of creative words. it was like having your own personal editor. you yearned for the nights before his breaks where the two of you would cozy up in front of the tv revising your works in progress.

“why can’t you ever write about me like this? actually why can’t you write about me period?” he would whine with his flushed cheeks making a special appearance.

“i don’t write about you because they only have me covering the scandinavian leagues.” you said matter-of-factly.

“just tell them you’re dating me.” he would always say.

you never did but with the spanish press it was inevitable that your relationship would see the light of day. your world had flipped instantly and you found yourself on the next flight to germany. it took you a lot of reassuring words to help you understand that you deserved to be there. your boyfriend didn’t write your pieces for you, you did, you were the important figure. so, there you stood with a mic patiently waiting for the player you’d be interviewing to show up.

your co-worker had failed to mention who you’d be interviewing which had you scrambling for various questions to ask. you were fortunate to have an extensive vocabulary for different positions so you were sure that no matter who you’d be talking to your manage to make them comfortable. when you’re met with incredibly pink cheeks you realize why your cameraman was so giddy on the walk towards the tunnel. they were making you interview your own boyfriend.

“live in one!” your cameraman yells loud enough for everyone to hear.

“you’re such a dick!” you quietly scold pedri who’s currently smirking at you.

“you wouldn’t have done it if you knew.” he shrugged and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes because it was true.

you notice the cameraman counting down from three and quickly regain your composure. it’s fascinating for your boyfriend seeing how well you hide your affection for him. this is the first time he’s ever seen you in action and it’s quite mesmerizing the way the lights make you glow and how well you speak. somehow with all the chaos surrounding you two and the sweat dripping off his forehead you’re more beautiful than ever. it must be because you’re in your element he thinks.

“croatia has really done a great job of keeping the ball outside their box, do you think you guys will be able to break through?” you move the mic towards him waiting for an answer.

“of course i mean my connection with rodri is just working super for well for us i think we’ll be able to advance through the midfield more in the second half. modric will not make it easy but that’s why we’re here, to stop him.” he pants.

“lamine has been excellent throughout the first half how do you plan on using him to improve the play?” you scramble to say as time is running out.

“well lamine is excellent with the ball i think he’ll able to get us far into their zone. it’s really a team effort. he’s probably ecstatic right now and that’ll definitely help us.” he answers.

“thank you pedri. good luck in the second half.” your words contain honesty and you give him the most sincere smile.

“thank you, hermosa.” he compliments you on live television.

you want nothing more than to slap him but his hands around your hips take you by surprise. his lips are so close to yours and you immediately forget the camera is still rolling. it’s a quick peck but it’s a kiss nothing less. it’s your turn to display your flushed cheeks. in the blink of an eye he’s gone and you’re left alone to deal with the aftermath. you hear your coworkers tease you through your earpiece and the cameraman is currently laughing at you. you’re quick to redirect to the anchors back at headquarters. that night you and pedri make headlines for your performance in the tunnel.

[krismatic]

I’ve gotten to the part in FFXIV where you actually start fighting things with other players and. this is actually so fun

[discoreptile]

Wee ha

[nomaishuttle]

KMS. BADLYY

[neon-danger]

“anyone can pick up an instrument and play” get the fuck out I’m never reading fanfiction again

[sahkuna]

NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.

content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.

word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d—

SPRING 2008

“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?” 

An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulders, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.

Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.

“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.

He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.

It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.

The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere. 

Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation. 

Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.

And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...

Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.

Who knows. 

All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, his arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”

“Two years, by force.” 

“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”

You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.

Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today. 

Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”

In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.

“Geto-senpai!” 

Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.

You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him. 

You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.

Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.

Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot. 

“I see that Satoru's already started…”

Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it. 

“But anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”

Which reminded you…

“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”

You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.

Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.  

“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.

“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”

…Huh?

Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side. 

His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own. 

“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.

You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.  

Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner. 

You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened??? 

Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.

Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.

If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.

“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.

There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.

“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”

SUMMER 2009 

To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school. 

Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently. 

Whenever he can.

He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.

You’ll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.

Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.

“Sooo,” you start slowly.

Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow. 

“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you. 

You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.

“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…”

There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.

“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”

You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now…

“They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro. 

Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.

But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.

You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!” 

It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.

“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”

Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”

Huh?

You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.

Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!

Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.

Christ.

Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, the girl’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.

The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there. 

Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.

“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.

Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”

“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”

“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”

“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.

“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”

An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”

And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.

WINTER 2011

Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.

It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.

Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes. 

Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.

But something was... different.

With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.

Harmless, right? 

So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.

There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.

“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”

Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.

He was being serious.

From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face.

You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”

Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the  Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”

The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.  

“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.

“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?

But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.

“Sato—” Fuck.

You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you. “Gojo, not now.”

“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”

“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”

Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be. 

There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”

Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now. 

“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.

A FEW YEARS LATER

A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.

Satoru: Are you home?

What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again. 

…And again.

Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.

As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.

Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )

Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry

You: yes... why?

Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person. 

But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.

Satoru: Open your door.

What the fuck.

Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl

So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!

You: you're actually insane.

You: hold on!

Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.

“Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.

Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!

 He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.

Yeesh.

Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob. 

It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—

“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.

“Happy birthday!” 

In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.

Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake. 

Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.

He’s cute.

Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.

On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.

Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.

“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”

You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”

Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.

Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.

With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.

Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat. “Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”

He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.

Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.

“Wait, what,” you deadpan.

This can’t be what you think it is.

“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”

Har. Har. Very funny.

You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands.

Inside was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre. 

That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.

“Satoru!” you squeal.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.

Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him. 

Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt. 

“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”

Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject. 

There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.

“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.

For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.

It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot. 

But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.

There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.

The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.

Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.

“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.

“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”

And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.

Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it). 

Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.

God, you wanted him bad.

It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Cute. 

That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.

You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement.  “Come to my bedroom.”

Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.

And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.

Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal. 

Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.

Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.

Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear. 

“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”

Message received.

Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours. 

The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.

“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.

“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means. 

He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him. 

But something’s up.

His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.

You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.

Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.

Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to grind yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.

“Do you like that?” you ask.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.

“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.

You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.

There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.

And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line. 

Fuck.

You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.

He wants you to strip him of his clothes. 

Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.

You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.

“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”

“Oh.” 

Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?

Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between his legs.

Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”

You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in. 

There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.

Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.

You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.

“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.

“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.

“Shut up about it…”

But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?” 

A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.

“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”

Oh.

Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.

“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.

You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.

The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.

Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.

You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone. 

“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.

“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.

 Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”

He pushes in and you swear you see stars. 

Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.

You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning. 

“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”

The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”

“S—Satoru!”

Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.

You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.

Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”

What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.

That’s what gets you.

You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.

Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.

Wow.

Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.

“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours. 

You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly. 

Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.

You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.

You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot. 

“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.

“Hm?”

You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”

You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal ca—

“…Yeah, why?”

Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You IDIOT!” 

A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.

“What’d I do?!”

Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.

And maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.

if you read this far, we're fucking making out.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[saetoru]

AGE IS NOTHING BUT A NUMBER — GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day two — overstimulation ; find masterlist here

synopsis. befriending nanako and mimiko has its perks—like fucking their father, for example. suguru might have aged over the years, but that doesn't mean he's lost his touch. don't believe him? that's okay—he can always just show you instead

length. 5.3k words (bro this fic was agonizing)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, dilf! suguru, college au (reader is a student), age gaps (20+ difference), jealous suguru, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, angel)

notes. this took me so long bc i hate it so im posting it and running away to play genshin to slave away for primos

most people can tell their best friends everything. not you, though—you have a secret. a dirty, shameful, horrible little secret, in fact.

no one knows that every chance you get, every small little moment you can possibly squeeze in, you fuck your two best friends’ father—and it’s going to stay that way, unknown and forever hidden. suguru is young as far as parents go, just barely in his twenties when he’s found himself a single father of two, but that doesn’t mean he’s not too old for you. and it especially doesn’t mean that it’s not inappropriate to fuck the man that raised your two closest friends.

you meet nanako and mimiko during your freshman year of college—the rest is history. the first time you spend the night at their place, suguru (he insists you call him that on your first meeting) is overjoyed that his girls have someone as lovely as you.

who wouldn’t be? you’re smart, well-mannered, respectable, and incredibly studious. what a perfect role model for his girls—after all, every father’s worst nightmare is his sweet, precious daughters venturing off to the real world. men are dogs—suguru should know. they’re sleazy and prey on young women who are naive and unsuspecting, taking advantage of their hopefulness before completely destroying their innocence. suguru can’t bear the idea of his perfect little girls becoming victims of such sinister behavior—but that’s all quelled when he meets you.

but he never thought, not even for one second, that he’d become one of those men.

those older men who fuck girls half their age—the girls that are barely in their twenties and still don’t even really understand how taxes work. the girls that have just started to learn how to hold their alcohol and can only recently buy it legally. the girls who don’t realize how complicated adulthood can be, just barely spreading their wings and learning what it’s like to be free.

suguru has always found those men deplorable. they’re the awful, disgusting, untamed vermin of society—women must be protected from them at all costs.

but now? well….now he’s one of them—and he finds, even as disgusted with himself as he is from time to time, he has little regrets.

not when you’re sprawled under him, hands tracing over his bare chest, feeling the soft skin under your palms in wonder. suguru, though he’s not let himself go by any means, is past his prime—he still frequents the gym, and he has more time to go now that the girls are gone most of the day, but he’s not immune to the effects of aging.

his hair has more than a few strands of white sprinkled in now; nanako makes sure to remind him not to pull them out unless he wants more. he’s still managed to keep the abs he was once so proud of in his youth, but they’re still not as hard—layered over a slight belly that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter what he tries. his skin is a bit looser, and his eyes have slight wrinkles in the corners of them, but despite it all, suguru still looks as handsome as ever.

he’s aged well, still looks remarkably young for men his age, and still looks like that dashing young man he once was who stole hearts. in fact, he still hears about his looks, especially from nanako and mimiko’s friends—he’s always chuckled to himself and shook his head in amusement.

that’s your dad? god, he’s so hot.

what? he’s single? oh my gosh, do you need a mom?

i can’t believe he’s never been married—women in his generation don’t deserve him. i’ll take him off their hands.

wait, do you have pictures of him when he was younger?

oh my god, he’s so fine. are you sure he’s in his forties?

nanako and mimiko, bless their hearts, have always crinkled their noses at the…less than proper comments they’ve had to witness about their father. in fact, they’ve watched teachers practically throw themselves onto suguru at parent-teacher conferences. it’s bothersome—a little disturbing to hear their friends talk about all the things they’d let their dad, of all people, do to them.

but you? you don’t make unhinged comments. they appreciate that.

but if only they knew…

if only they knew that sometimes, like right now, when you’re spending the night, you don’t actually sleep—instead, you sneak off to their father’s room, lay on his mattress under his body, and feel his touch. you can feel him, hard and throbbing in his sweats as his clothed cock presses against your thigh—but he takes his time with you, and doesn’t do anything about the clear arousal pooling between your legs just yet. 

instead, he focuses on remembering your body—it’s been a while, after all. he hasn’t felt your hips, hasn’t tasted your skin, hasn’t heard your voice. 

“missed you,” suguru breathes, hovering over you as you hum, nipping at your skin as his nose brushes along your neck. your hand is playing with his hair, twisting long, black and white strands along your fingers. “haven’t seen you in a bit, angel.”

“i’ve had midterms,” you murmur.

suguru knows—nanako and mimiko have been studying for them themselves. he’s more than a little disappointed that you haven’t come over to study with them yet. but then, just the other night, mimiko mentions you’ve been spending your time with a boy at the library, sharing a table as you lean over his shoulder to look at his laptop. nanako giggles that you might have finally gotten yourself a boyfriend. mimiko hums and nods as she murmurs it’s about time.

suguru swallows down every bite of dinner with an aftertaste of bile that night.

a boy—a boy? you’ve been skipping coming over to study with the girls (and, by default, seeing him) just to study with some boy? what’s got your attention on the guy so badly? why would you break the routine you’ve had for the last few semesters for someone you just recently met? have you finally started to realize that this is a mistake? is suguru a mistake?

he thinks maybe not, now that you’re back in his bed—but he still has too many unanswered questions. 

“so i’ve heard,” he says lowly, “i’ve also heard there’s a certain boy on your radar.” he smiles bitterly, pulling away from your neck to stare at you with those dark, sharp eyes of his. “a much younger, and fitting match for you, i suppose.”

you roll your eyes, snorting.

“is that what nanako and mimiko have told you? honestly, those two,” you huff fondly, “i told them already. he’s just my partner for a presentation. we’re practicing.”

“oh?” suguru raises a brow—and then he shivers lightly when you lean up and kiss his jaw, eyes fluttering shut at your touch.

“yes,” you giggle, “no need to be jealous of someone half your age, you know.”

“that’s exactly why i’m jealous,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss you softly.

your lips taste like honey—probably sweeter, in fact. they drip with that decadent, saccharine taste of youth. he feels twenty again every time he kisses you, feels not a day older than his glory days.

“oh, you poor thing,” you grin, cupping his face as you scatter kisses along his cheeks and nose, thumb tracing the skin. fuck, is this what it feels like to be in love? it makes him feel so young, so free, and hopeful for the future. when was the last time he felt this way? “have you been losing sleep over my nonexistent college boyfriend?”

“well, kids your age fool around quite a bit,” he says in that father tone that he uses on nanako and mimiko, “what was i supposed to think?”

you’ve heard that tone so many times before; the one where he talks like he knows better, like he’s wiser, like he’s aware of something you’re not. 

girls, make sure you share your location with me—i need to find you in case anything happens. it’s for your own safety, end of discussion.

make sure you watch over your drinks, okay? men these days take every chance they get to spike them when you’re not looking. mimiko, i was your age once, too. i’ve seen this happen plenty.

don’t walk alone in the streets at night. call me. i’ll pick you up—no, nanako, it’s not lame. the streets are dangerous at night. there are creeps, you know.

don’t get into any boy’s cars, girls. you never know what’ll happen; one mistake is all it takes to ruin your life—hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. one day, you’ll understand i’m right.

“i’m not a kid,” you pout, and then, smugly this time, you wiggle your brows. “did’ya lose sleep over my imaginary boyfriend? you need plenty of sleep at your age, y’know.”

“no, you’re not a kid,” suguru agrees, “you’re a brat.” and then he’s back to pressing those hot, open-mouthed, hungry kisses along your jaw, humming in delight when you angle your head to give him better access. 

sometimes, it’s fun to get under suguru’s skin—it’s fun to break that carefully built, mature patience of his, pulling a twitch of his eye and a furrow of his brow from him. so, you grin widely as you murmur, “who knows? maybe he’d fuck better—more stamina, y’know?”

it’s supposed to just tease him, to make him glare at you unimpressed so you can giggle and kiss between his brows—but suguru stills at that, painfully stiff for a moment before he bites at your skin. hard. 

“oh yeah?” he hisses, his voice low and dangerous as he pulls away to glare down at you, “you think so? what, you think an old man like me can’t fuck you long enough?”

you don’t get a chance to reply—not before he pulls your pants down your waist to reveal your soaked panties, pulling a hum from him as he grins at the damp patch of fabric. his fingers circle over your clit for a moment, right over the cloth, making your breath hitch as you buck into his touch. 

“suguru—”

“look at that,” he chuckles, “wearing my favorite one, huh? can’t fuck you that bad if you try your best to impress me. isn’t that what you wanted? is that what you were thinking when you put these on before coming over? how precious,” he murmurs—he speaks so condescending, so knowingly, as if he’s read your mind just by looking at the red lace covering your dripping cunt. you cover your face in humiliation, but he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head, clicking his teeth in disapproval. 

part of you knows you should quit while you can—the other part? well…it wants to test the limits a bit longer. suguru has never been so easy to rile up, you want to indulge in it for just a bit longer if you can help it. 

“well,” you huff, “what’re you waiting for, then? don’t tell me the age has slowed you down—”

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he says in a low snarl, “fine, you want me to hurry up? you got it, princess.”

it all happens before you can even register—one moment, you’re grinning at him with mischief in your eyes; the next second, he has you in nothing but your bra, bare in his bed as he pulls your legs apart and leans close to your pussy.

“you know the thing about guys your age,” he hums, toying with your clit lazily as you gasp with a twitch, “is that they really don’t know how to take care of anyone but themselves. guess they just don’t have enough experience to really figure it out.”

his lips latch onto your clit, sucking before he rolls his tongue over the sensitive bud as his fingers sink into your core, pushing past your folds and stretching you open. it’s slow—deliberately so, in fact. it makes your head spin, and your fingers curl into the bed sheets as you pant. 

“suguru, m-more—”

“don’t worry,” he coos, pulling away from you to grin up at your glossy eyes, “you’ll get plenty, baby. we’ll see if you’ve got the stamina. y’know, since you’re so young.”

his lips are back to wrap around your clit, fingers sinking and curling exactly where you’re most sensitive—suguru finds your sweet spots instantly the first time he has you sprawled under him. didn’t even take a moment of trial, just knew where to touch and kiss to have you unravel in his hold. that much still hasn’t changed—his fingertips press against the sensitive spot in the back of your walls, pulling pretty little whines from you as his tongue flicks over your clit. 

it’s always been a blessing that nanako and mimiko’s room is across the house—had they been closer, they might hear the mewl you let out as his fingers bully into you faster, unforgiving as they brush against your walls and build the ache up between your legs until it’s about to burst. 

“s-suguru, ‘m close, so, so close—”

“already?” he gasps, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your clit with a sly grin, “thought you had more in you than that, baby. so youthful—figured you’d last a bit longer.”

he’s mean about it—rubs it in your face some more that you’re so close so fast before he pulls his fingers away and doesn’t even give you the satisfaction of falling apart on his digits. it makes you sob, hips bucking up to chase the friction of his fingers, but he’s already gone, leaving your walls empty and fluttering around nothing.

“no,” your voice breaks, “n-no, so close, please. i want—”

“that’s what he would’ve done,” suguru hums, “pulled out before you even finished. that’s what guys your age always do—they don’t know how to make girls finish. you ever had that problem with me?”

“no,” you say quickly, shaking your head. you’re a pretty little thing, he thinks—pouty, wobbly lips and those glossy eyes as you sniffle. “no, you always make me cum—please, i wanna cum, sugu.”

“yeah?” he pouts with faux sympathy, “didn’t feel good, huh? feels better when i take care of you, doesn’t it?”

“uh huh,” you nod—you’re still panting through the aftershocks of having your orgasm ripped from you, chest rising and falling harsh enough that it fills him with pride he can pull such drastic reactions from you. no one knows your body like suguru—he’s too good at giving it what it wants for anyone else to compare. 

“think that boy—” he spits the last word like it’s poison on his tongue, “—can take care of you?”

“no,” you whimper, “no, he can’t. not like you, never like you.”

“that’s a good girl,” he nods approvingly, rubbing his slick-coated finger over your clit, toying with it teasingly as you writhe, whining for more. “you know something else about men your age? they don’t care to please a woman—don’t bother to appreciate them enough to make them feel good. you think that boy would be here—” he pauses to motion between your legs, where he’s currently situated, “—willingly? taste you willingly? let you cum on his tongue willingly?”

“i-i don’t…i never asked someone to—”

“did you ever ask me?” he interrupts, raising a brow at you, “you ever have to ask me? i just do it. wanna know why? because i know what i’m doing—know how to treat you right, how to give you what you need. isn’t that right?” 

“yes, yes—you always give me what i want—”

“what you need,” he corrects, “and you know what i think you need right now? this.”

his tongue licks a stripe along your entrances before you can say anything else, pulling a gasp out of you as your hands find his hair and tug—suguru groans at that, feels his pants get impossibly tighter as the aching erection he sports throbs between his legs at the way you pull at the strands so desperately, so needy. for him. only ever him. 

his tongue fucks into you, messy with the way he devours you, the slick arousal pooling from your cunt coating his lips, his cheeks, his chin. you moan—and really, it’s almost a squeal—when his fingers are sinking back into you, tongue flicking away at your clit mercilessly as he thrusts his digits in and out of your pussy. you’re close, painfully so, the pressure steadily building and building until you just can’t hold it back anymore. 

“sugu—’m c-cumming. god ‘s so good—feels good,” you babble, thighs closing around his head as his fingers curl into your sweet spot over and over again, not stopping for even a second as he helps you ride out your high. your walls spasm around his fingers, tight as they flutter around him and make him groan at the thought of being inside you. 

he watches, hungry and in awe, as your back arches off the mattress and your mouth parts, broken little wails of his name rolling off your tongue in a sweet melody. 

“i bet he’s never seen someone look like this,” suguru murmurs, watching the way the ecstasy takes over your features as your face falls slack from pleasure, “so pretty when falling apart. bet he’d never even get close to making you look so fucked from just his tongue.”

your orgasm ripples through you—it’s not new, the way he makes you feel so good, but it’s definitely nothing to get used to either. your body slumps back onto the mattress as you finish, panting harshly while he climbs up to hover over you once again. 

“that felt good?” he asks, nosing at your cheek as you nod breathlessly.

“yeah,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“hope you’re not tired out just yet,” he says smugly, eyeing the way sweat clings to your forehead and huffs of air exhale from your lungs with each labored breath, “because we’re nowhere near done, baby. not even close.”

just like that, your bra is unclasped and pulled off, freeing your tits for his mouth to latch onto a nipple, sucking and lightly grazing his teeth along the bud while his fingers tease at the other, pinching and rubbing over it with his thumb. you whine, eyes squeezing shut as your hand cups the back of his head and keeps him in place. 

“bet i could make you cum just from this,” he says with a laugh, “i don’t even need to fuck you.”

“please,” you dig your nails into his shoulder, moaning as he switches to wrap his lips around the other nipple, “please, sugu—n-need more.”

“be more specific,” he says lowly, looking up at you in amusement, “gonna need more than that, princess. you gotta help me out here—i’m afraid i don’t know what i’m doing.”

suguru is doing everything he can to drag this out—if you’d known one small comment would have him riled up like this…well, truthfully, you can’t say you wouldn’t have made it anyway. it’s exciting in its own right when he’s so determined to show you why you need him, why no one else but him is meant to see you like this, make you fall apart like this, have you sprawled under them like this. 

no one can know about you and suguru—not nanako and mimiko, not your other friends, not your family. you know what they’d say, how they’d feel. 

disgust—shame, even. he’s far too old for you, you know they’d say; he’s a red flag for getting with someone so young. no one can know that you come here, dead in the middle of the night when your friends are asleep, and fuck their father. not only that—lay with their father, talk about your hopes and dreams for the future with their father, giggle as you gossip with their father, fall in love with their father. 

something tells you the feeling is not unreciprocated—that suguru feels the same, that he loves holding you in his arms just as much as you love laying in them. maybe it wasn’t a joke, what you’d said. not to him, at least—maybe deep down, it stung; maybe he had something to prove. that boy might be closer to you in age, but he’ll never, ever treat you the way suguru does—no one will, for that matter. perhaps he has to show it so you really know. 

so you look him in the eye, pull him closer until his forehead is pressed against yours and you can press a delicate kiss to his lips before you murmur against them, “fuck me, suguru. please—need you.”

he groans at that, closes his eyes before his hips move to press the thick tip of his cock against your folds, dragging it along your entrance as he coats his head with your slick. it’s flushed a deep pink—it’s been neglected for so long that he shudders at the way it aches, at the way even the slightest friction along the sensitive tip pulls a soft gasp from him. 

for a moment, he wonders if he really will last long enough to fuck you properly—he might not, with the way your walls always squeeze around him, always have him ready to fuck his load into you just as soon as he’s inside you. the thought alone almost makes his cock twitch—but suguru is a man of patience, so he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch, looking down and watching as his girth disappears inside you. 

“look at that,” he coos, grinning wide as he looks back up at you, “took me so easily. ‘s cause when you do it right, it doesn’t take much, does it?”

“f-fuck—” your head presses back against the pillow, mouth hung open as you breathe heavily, trying to squirm and get even the slightest bit of friction from him as he stays painfully still. “move, suguru—please, c-can’t wait anymore. jus’ wanna feel you.”

“i know,” he chuckles, “patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”

despite it all, suguru is not feeling very patient anymore—it’s been long enough. his hips roll slowly at first, a shallow thrust of his hips that makes you both moan lowly before he all but pulls out and slams back in, hard. you can feel the burning stretch of his girth practically splitting you open, every thick vein dragging along your cunt and every brush of his tip against the back of your walls. it’s loud—the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sound of his deep groans and your breathless whines, the sound of the headboard hitting the wall as he fucks you into his mattress. 

“god—fuck, suguru—th-there,” you mewl as he slams into you right where you need him. 

you’ve lost count of how many times suguru has fucked you like you’re his. in his bed at night, in his shower in the mornings, on the couch when you drop by when the girls aren’t home, in his car that one time he drove you home when it rained, in your apartment that one time he dropped off your laptop because you forgot it. there’s one common denominator—the way he makes you feel, not just from the way his cock ruts into you, but from the way his fingers tangle with yours, from the way his mouth finds your jaw to kiss, from the way his forehead presses into your shoulder with warmth. 

it’s exciting, maybe. at first, it’s scandalous and a little thrilling in its own right. by now, it’s something much more than that—you don’t think anyone could make you feel the way he does, fuck you like he does, even if they tried. even if they knew where to touch and where to kiss. even if they knew what you liked and what you didn’t. 

they couldn’t be suguru—would never be suguru. 

“there, huh?” he pants, moaning softly as he feels your walls flutter around him tightly, “i know. i know how to fuck this pussy—my pussy. you think some boy you hardly know would know? think he’d care to learn? think he’d even try?”

“no,” you gasp, shaking your head as your hips buck up to meet his sharp thrusts, “no. no one would make me feel this good. make me feel so good, sugu.”

“ngh—sh-shit,” he hisses at your words, cock almost swelling harder at the way you praise him, at the way your words are almost slurred with no real thought behind him. it’s a little pride-inducing, the way you’re still able to sing his praises without having to really think about it first. he can hear it, the way you’re lost in the drag of his cock, drunk in the haze of pleasure, unfocused on everything else besides the way he bullies his thick girth into your abused cunt.

it’s a mess, it’s filthy the way there’s a mix of pre cum and your slick at the base of his cock, along your inner thighs, coating your skin as the squelching sound of him nudging past your folds fills the room.

it’s good, the way he makes you feel—he can hear it in your voice as you wail his name.

“s-suguru—oh.”

“what, you gettin’ all fucked out on me? ‘m not even close yet, princess,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck as he sucks softly into your sweet spot. you throw your head back, rasping out a cry of his name again as his balls slap against your ass with a harsh roll of his hips. 

and then his hand makes its way between your bodies, thumb attaching itself to your clit before rubbing punishing circles into the bundle of nerves—you sob at that, back arching up as your chest presses against his, nipples hard as they brush along his skin.

“s-sugu—close, ‘m gonna cum a-again—so close,” you pant brokenly, every sentence cut off with a sharp gasp as he thrusts into you. 

you’re close—you can’t fight back the way the coil in your belly snaps as he teases your clit. it’s still sensitive from the last orgasm, every nerve still burning up from before as he gives you more, gives you too much, almost. you cum harder this time—your second high creeping up on you when you least expect it. 

it makes your eyes roll back, makes your thighs quiver, and tears stream down your cheeks as you chant his name over and over. suguru, ‘s so good. suguru, ‘m cumming. suguru, ‘s all for you.

every sentence makes his cock drill into you faster, sloppier in rhythm, maybe, but faster. needier. bordering on desperate. 

“f-fuck, baby,” he grunts, “squeezin’ me so tight—such a tight fuckin’ cunt. you think just anyone deserves this? think you can just walk around and let anyone fuck this? ‘s bullshit—ngh.”

you don’t answer—can’t answer, in fact. it’s all teary eyes and soft sniffles as you mewl with every thrust, voice breaking between every pretty little sound you make. he’s still fucking into you, still dragging his cock against those sensitive walls, still bumping against your clit with his navel, still nudging against your sweet spot with his thick, swollen tip. it’s almost too much—it is too much, making you writhe under his body as you try to form the words. 

“‘s t-too much, sugu—c-can’t anymore,” you try, “can’t.”

“what?” he gasps, furrowing his brows in mock confusion, “you’re tappin’ out on me already? but ‘m not even done yet, sweetheart. haven’t even finished yet—don’t tell me you’re already spent. how will you keep up with your little boyfriend’s stamina if you can’t even take an old man like me?”

“c-can’t take anyone but you,” you sob, “jus’ you—only you. promise.”

“yeah? you swear?”

“uh huh. jus’ you, sugu—don’ want anyone else. won’t fuck me the same.”

“atta girl,” he coos, chuckling as he leans down to kiss your jaw, trailing soft pecks until he meets your lips, “that’s what i thought. make sure you don’t forget, okay?”

“fuck, suguru—’m…g-gonna…”

“gonna what? cum? you’re cumming again?” you nod at that—he grins wide, pride settling into the crinkles of his eyes before his thumb rubs harsh circles into your swollen clit once more. he looks pretty like that—hair framing his face, the mix of black and white strands sticking to the damp skin of his forehead. his skin is flushed, abs flexing as he pants over you. sometimes you feel guilty that half of why you come over to visit nanako and mimiko is to fuck suguru—the guilt is quickly extinguished when you see him like this, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his arms barely hold him over you, eyes shut tight as he groans. 

“i-i’m—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you can’t form sentences anymore as you cum—again. not that you really could before that, but now all you can offer is croaked half-syllables and shaky sobs. your walls squeeze around him, tight as they hug around his throbbing cock. 

it takes one, two, three more sloppy rolls of his hips before he lets out at a low, “baby, fuck—’m gonna fill you up. want that? want me to cum in you? make you mine? always been mine, haven’t you?”

“yes, yes—yours, sugu. yours, yours, yours,” you babble, words slurred between breathy moans and broken sobs. “wanna be yours.”

you can feel him—feel the way his cock twitches in you, the way he grinds into you to ride out his high, the way sticky, hot ropes of cum fill your walls, the way he fucks his load deeper into you with every sloppy thrust of his hips. his arms quiver as he holds himself over you—just barely, though. you can hear the way his voice cracks as he gasps your name over and over, as he mutters lowly about how you’re his, how you’ll always only be his. 

“mine,” he grits, “you’re fuckin’ mine—see how you’re suckin’ me in? see how i fit in this pussy like it was made for me? ‘s cause you’re mine.”

his body slumps onto yours as he finishes, head pressed into the crook of your neck as he kisses the skin while you both catch your breaths. you whimper, still sensitive, as he pulls out of you, a soft chuckle falling past his lips as he pulls his head up to look at you and press a kiss to your cheek. 

“so,” he starts, eyes laced with amusement as he takes in the fucked out look on your face, the tears still drying your cheeks, the swollen flush of your bottom lip, “still think you need someone with more stamina? someone who’ll fuck you better—”

“god,” you groan, slapping his shoulder, “will you drop it already? you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“no,” he murmurs, pecking your lips, “still wanna hear it some more.”

“your ego needs a reality check,” you huff as you brush a strand of hair from his forehead, “think i’ve fed it plenty all night.”

“actually, i think you crushed it,” he pouts theatrically, “talking about some asshole who doesn’t care about you right in front of me. after i take such good care of you, too. the girls already think you should date him,” he adds the last part with a slightly bitter roll of his eyes, pulling a giggle out of you.

“they think i don’t know how to talk to men,” you snort, “imagine they knew i was talking to men old enough to be my father.”

“hey,” he clicks his teeth, falling onto the mattress beside you—he pulls you into his chest, letting your cheek rest on his bare skin. it’s so wrong—lying in bed with the father of your best friends. but somehow, suguru feels like the only thing you’ve ever done right. “age is nothing but a number, sweetheart.”

if i have to see the word cock one more time im going to eradicate all humans that have them

do not comment about a part 2 !!!!!!!!!!

[a-b-riddle]

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Whatever My Wife Wants

Summary: On your honeymoon, Javi decides to break out a new accessory you've never seen him wear before. Little does he know, that seeing him wear a chain for the first time is about to drive you wild.

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also its your honeymoon so who am I to say), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, literally the biggest, fattest, ugliest breeding kink (I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not), marriage kink (?) creampie, cum play, kind of exhibitionism (like if you SQUINT), talks of starting a family, Javi LOVES his wife, Javi in a CHAIN, Javi on his honeymoon deserves its own warning, did I mention that Javi LOVES his wife?!

A/N: shoutout to my sweet @honeyedmiller for this request after reblogging this MASTERPIECE from @enstatia. It's supposed to be a painting of Din, but it gave me such big Javi vibes, and I really haven't been the same since picturing the one and only Javier Peña in a chain (bc If i can't unsee it, you shouldn't be allowed to either) 😵‍💫 Also shoutout to Lucien Flores for singlehandedly ruining my life today with that new clip from the Uninvited (but also you can't tell me that this outfit is so Javi on the beach coded PHEW)

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

Javi had never been one for jewelry- well, that was until a few days ago when a new golden wedding band had made a home on his hand. Since you had slipped it on his finger, Javi couldn’t get enough of watching it glisten in the warm, tropical sunlight on your honeymoon, a reminder that filled his heart to the brim to know that he was yours forever. 

Javi’s new wedding ring was the only jewelry that he had ever pictured himself wearing, until you had mentioned to him in passing while shopping for new clothes for your honeymoon how good he’d look with a chain to go with any of his outfits he had planned for the trip- considering there was no way Javi was going to have no less than 4 buttons undone on his shirt at any given time while basking in the tropical warmth of your honeymoon paradise. 

Later on that week, he had dug around in his dresser to find a thin, golden chain necklace he had back from his time in college, that hadn’t seen the light of day in too many years to count. But, given your enthusiasm for the idea of him wearing something like it, Javi had decided to pack it with him in his suitcase to surprise when the time felt right. 

Well, after being a few drinks deep at the pool bar from earlier, Javi’s slightly tipsy confidence had him feeling like now was the perfect time to try out his new accessory to see what you thought. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out out the chain to go with the rest of his outfit for your dinner on the beach, clipping the necklace around his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror, quickly fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, undoing one more button than probably necessary to show off his new look. 

And while he could admit that he didn’t look half bad with it on, and figured you’d like the new surprise addition to his wardrobe, there’d be no way in hell he could have ever prepared himself for the viscerally awestruck reaction you’d have to the thin, gold chain dangling around his neck.  

“I can practically feel you burning a hole through my chest, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you as he took another bite of his food, giving you a playful smirk at the way you had been ogling at him ever since you had noticed the thin gold chain resting across his tanned skin as you began your walk through the hotel to head to dinner. 

“Oh shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot. You’re making it very hard not to look, in my defense.” You sighed, trying to get yourself to focus on your food instead of staring at Javi for the rest of dinner, despite the fact that the only meal you had your eyes on was sitting across the table from you. “There’s already something about you being my husband that makes you somehow even hotter than you already were, and now with this?” You picked up your fork, gesturing to the chain dangling between the parted fabric of Javi’s shirt, “I think you may be trying to legitimately kill me.” 

“Figured you’d like it. Didn’t think you’d like it this much.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip before taking another bite of food, his cheeks growing flushed and warm as he looked at you admiring him, wondering how in the hell he had gotten so goddamn lucky. “Thanks, Mrs. Peña.” He laughed, taking another bite of his food, shooting you a quick wink. 

Mrs. Peña. 

God, if that alone wasn’t enough to send you over the edge already, your new last name, combined with the incredibly attractive man you had gotten it from that you now got to call your husband? On top of that stupidly hot chain he had decided to throw on with his outfit? There was definitely something else you were hungry for other than the half cleared plate below you. 

It was then that you couldn’t have been happier you had been seated at a table on the edge of the beachside boardwalk, tucked behind a few stray palm trees, secluded enough out of view that you had no problem reaching under the table to rest your hand on Javi’s knee, toying with the hem of his shorts before letting your fingers creep further and further up his thigh. 

“Are you almost done with your food?” You asked, your voice sweet and sultry as your hand brushing against Javi’s crotch immediately caught his attention, making his eyes go wide as he sat up straight, setting down his knife and fork to look down in his lap. “Because if you are, I can think of something else I want for dessert when we go back to our room. Something I want really bad. You wanna feel how badly I want it?” 

Javi swallowed hard as your fingers wrapped more firmly around his bulge, gently massaging his dick in your grasp, before grabbing his hand and guiding it to brush along the slit of your sundress and closer to your core, aching and dripping with arousal. Letting his fingers creep up the inside of your thighs and ghost over your folds, his eyes went even wider, jaw practically dropping open to feel that you were not only absolutely soaked, but also not wearing any underwear at all. Using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart right then and there at the dinner table, letting out a deep sigh as he cursed under his breath. 

“Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck, baby… Yeah, I can be done right now.” He groaned, nodding at your proposition before wrapping his hand around the meat of your thigh as he took a long inhale, staring you down with darkening eyes and a devilish grin across the table. 

Never had you been more thankful that the resort you had picked to stay at was all inclusive, because if either of you had to wait a minute longer for a server to get your bill so you could get back up to your room, the probability of impending implosion would have been practically inevitable. 

Firmly intertwining your fingers with his as  you grabbed his hand, you were nearly dragging Javi through the hotel to the nearest bay of elevators, pleasantly shocked to find no one else waiting with you to travel up to their room, leaving the two of you alone to catch the next elevator back up to your floor. 

Without a word, the second the elevator doors had closed, the two of you were on top of each other, a messy dance of tongue and teeth crashing together, Javi’s hands palming the meat of your ass over your dress while yours roamed over his chest, tracing the freckles of his tanned skin up to the golden chain dangling in the open buttons of his shirt, stopping to wrap the necklace around your finger, tugging Javi closer to you. 

“Fuck, you look so good with this on, baby.” You moaned, your words hot against Javi’s skin as you nipped at his neck, chain still tangled in your grasp. “I can’t wait to fu-”

Barely aware of the fact that you had reached your floor, the ding of the elevator was enough to catch your attention and cut you off from completing the rest of your thought before the doors slid open, revealing a group of couples waiting for their ride down to the lobby. Frantically trying to play off the fact that if the elevator ride had gone any longer, you two definitely would have been seconds away from fucking in it, you gulped, giving Javi a nudge to his ribs to bring him back to reality, the two of you quickly trying to slide past the other guests without making a scene. 

As the door closed behind you, you and Javi couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you couldn’t seem to take an elevator trip alone without almost being caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers (which, to be fair, a pair of horny teenagers probably would have had more self control than the two of you being newlyweds on your honeymoon). 

With your room only being a few doors down from the elevator, Javi began fumbling in the pocket of his shorts for his room key, working around the full hard on he already had under the fabric from how pent up he was. Quietly cursing under his breath until he found it, as soon as the card was swiping over the lock of the door, Javi was yanking you through into your room, instantly beginning to pull down the zipper to the back of your dress as you fumbled your way back to the bed. 

Your dress fell to the floor in a crumpled pile before Javi was tossing you onto the mattress, shocked to see that you also hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra, revealing your glowing skin and obnoxious tanlines from your time spent out in the sun. 

“Dirty fucking girl, not wearing anything underneath that dress for me. Fuck me, Hermosa. God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect. My perfect wife.” Javi growled, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed to part your legs, draping them over his shoulders as he admired the wet mess between your thighs, your slick already coating your folds, glistening in the dim light of your hotel room. “My perfect wife and her perfect fucking pussy already so wet for me. 

Dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal as he ghosted over your throbbing clit, you let out a soft whimper in protest, sitting up on your elbows to look down at Javi, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your thighs. 

“Javi, fuck- Baby, I wanted to go down on you. You look so good, I-I wanna taste you, Jav, p-please.” You moaned, your argument becoming less and less convincing as his kisses traveled to your center, nose brushing against your aching bundle of nerves before looking up at you with a lustful smirk, tightening his grip around your hips to hold you in place. 

Javi shook his head as he laughed quietly to himself, watching you squirm and buck your hips towards his face, so desperately worked up and aching that the mess between your legs was really beginning to contradict your need to get Javi off before yourself. 

“Cariño…” Javi tutted, almost mockingly, digging his fingertips deeper into the meat of your flesh, “You’re not going anywhere ‘till I get a taste. I can’t leave my poor wife all worked up like this, can I?” 

Before you had a chance to respond, the flat of Javi’s tongue was dragging through your heat in a long, broad stroke, firmly pressing against your clit, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as you threw your head back in pleasure, a soft whimper escaping from your parted lips. As the last of his lick slid through your folds, you shuttered at the feeling of the metal of his chain ghosting over your cunt as it dangled from his neck, only to cry out as you could feel the other piece of jewelry he was wearing on his left ring finger sink deep into your entrance. 

“Oh f-fuck-” You whimpered as another finger breached your tight hole, already sucking him in with your warm, wet walls while his digits curled, bumping against the sweet spot inside you that he knew made you crumble. 

“That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt before diving back between your legs like a man starved, his tongue dancing in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you, even more so now with the wedding band that had made its permanent home on his finger, taking every chance he could get to watch you cover the glistening gold ring in your arousal as yet another way to prove that you were his. 

Javi could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his fingers as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets of the bed, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, tingling building at the base of your spine. Latching his lips around your clit, he began to suck at your sensitive nub, his hand thrusting faster and deeper into your cunt, feeling you slowly coming undone under his touch. 

“Oh shit- fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close baby, oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaaahhhhhh-” Just like that, you were falling over the brink of collapse, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, pleasure flowing through every inch of your veins as you met your high, feeling the smirk of Javi’s smile pressed against your cunt as you soaked his face, his free hand wrapped around your hip, holding you in place for him. 

“Fuck, I swear, I’ll never fucking get over that.” Javi mewled, pulling back enough to sit on his heels, admiring the wet and puffy mess your pussy had become, gently pulling his fingers out of your heat, looking down at the way your arousal coated his fingers, covering his wedding band. “Fucking soaked me, Hermosa. You like feeling my ring when I touch you like that, baby? Knowing I’m all yours forever?” 

With your chest heaving in heavy breaths, you nodded frantically, blissed out look plastered across your face as you stared up at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip as, opening your mouth for you to suck him clean, the warm and tangy taste of you still fresh on his skin. 

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. Mi esposa sabes muy dulce.” (My wife tastes so sweet) Javi cooed, gently tugging his fingers out of your mouth, standing up to lean over the bed, caging your body under his as his lips crashed against yours in a needy mess of longing and desperation. 

You could feel how painfully hard he was through the fabric of his shorts, his bulge straining against the seams of his zipper as he rubbed against your thigh, laying on top of you with one arm propped up beside your head, the other gently cupping your face, thumb rubbing back and forth along your cheek as he kissed you with the tender intensity that set your insides ablaze with desire, longing, no, needing to feel him buried deep inside you as you screamed his name. 

It really had been your intention to suck Javi off the moment you had gotten back to your room, to drop to your knees and worship the beautifully handsome man you now got to call your husband and turn him into the same type of moaning, whimpering mess that he had just made you, but with the ferocity of each kiss and the instinctual jerk of Javi’s hips, there was nothing you wanted more than to be filled by the sweet sting of his cock pounding into you, over and over.  

“J-Javi, fuck- I need to feel you baby, please. Fuck, I wanna feel you so deep inside me.” You whispered, your teeth tugging at Javi’s earlobe as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses, feeling the audible groan in his chest at your request, followed by a deep sigh as he tried to compose himself from the mess he was already becoming. 

“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet girl? Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets.” He rasped, a devilish grin spread between his cheeks as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, followed by his shorts and boxers, leaving him in nothing but the gold chain still dangling around his neck as he reached down to stroke his cock, red and dripping with precum before leaning back down to line up with your entrance. 

You could feel your breath hitch as his tip brushed through your folds, rubbing gently against your clit as he collected your arousal to coat his length, looking down to watch as his length sunk deep into your cunt, the both of you letting out ragged moans at the sensation. 

Javi paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch as he filled you, his tip kissing your cervix while his hips met yours. The fullness made your brain go blank, completely at a loss for words as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, pulling himself out enough to sink his whole length back into your cunt, each thrust making you whimper and moan, desperate for more. 

“F-fuck, give me more, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your hand wrapping around his bicep, fingertips digging into his flexing muscles. 

“Yeah? You want more, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, smirking to himself at the blissed out mess you were already becoming as the pace of his hips rutting into you began to quicken. 

As each thrust became faster, the gold chain draped around his neck began to bounce against his chest, his body close enough to yours to feel the cool metal brush against your face with each snap of his hips into yours, the sight of his necklace dangling over you as you stared up at the furrowed and focused look painting his face. The image alone of him wearing that chain was enough to make you feel like you were going to cum on the spot, but as you lay caged beneath the weight of his broad body, feeling nothing but his warm skin and chain rub against you, you were nearly convinced it was going to be over for you right then and there. 

Without even thinking, you lifted your head up off the bed just enough to grab the chain between your teeth, tugging him closer to you, the sudden yank making his eyes go wide in surprise as the two of you came nose to nose, foreheads brushing against each other before his lips were on yours again, entangling you in an all consuming kiss without faltering in his pace. 

“Fuck, you look so good.” You moaned, your lips parting just enough from his to whisper your praises into his ear. “You look so hot with this fucking chain, Jesus Christ.” 

Your comment had a low, breathy laugh escaping from his chest, shaking his head to himself almost in disbelief at how enthralled you were with him. 

“Me? Baby girl, you have no idea.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts to sit back on his haunches, readjusting you to bring your knees pressed to your chest, leaning back down, running his hands along your body, up your arms until he had them above your head, pinned down to the bed in his grasp. “You know how many guys I’ve seen staring at you since we’ve been here? How many dirty fucking looks I’ve had to give them? Maybe this ring on your finger isn’t enough, mi amor.” 

“W-what do you, fuck- what do mean?” You whimpered, the new position opening you up in a way that had you feeling every inch of Javi as he sank his cock even deeper into your cunt, splitting you open in the most delicious way possible, your brain barely working enough to let your words escape from your mouth. 

“I mean,” Javi groaned, tightening his grip to hold you in place, his eyes growing darker with desire with another deep, long thrust into your heat, “That maybe, I need to fuck a baby into, Osita. Fuck a baby into my beautiful fucking wife, and let everyone see that you’re mine with our kid growing inside you.” 

Javi’s words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought alone making you whimper- You and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever, and now that you were finally married and had agreed that your birth control wasn’t going to be a part of your packing list, the prospect that in 9 months from now, you could have a third member to your family? That was enough to have you close to finishing right then and there. 

 A gulp traveling down your throat before a long exhale, trying to find the words to respond to his proposition, your voice trembling in an anxious excitement. 

“F-fuck- Oh my god, yes. Fuck a baby into me, Javi. Let me, oh shit- let me make you a daddy.” 

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth, trying his best to maintain his own composure, taking a long exhale before his gaze met yours again, a fierce kind of determination and promise pooling in the deep chocolate brown of his eyes, leaning his body on top of yours, pushing your knees closer to your chest, opening you up to an even deeper angle as his mouth crashed into yours, beginning to pick up his pace once again as his hips snapped into yours. “That’s what  you want, Hermosa? Fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Oh shit- Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets, remember? You want a baby? Fuck- I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you I’ll fuck a baby into you right now.” 

You could feel the all too familiar tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine once again, Javi’s cock pounding perfectly into your g-spot over and over again, the hairs at the base of his length grinding against your throbbing clit, sending you to the brink of collapse with each thrust in and out of your cunt. 

“Yes, oh my god- yes, I w-want it so bad. P-please, baby, fuck.” You whined, starting to stumble over your words as you could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock, the coil in your core tightening to the point of nearly snapping. 

“Fuck- say it again. Tell me- mierda- tell me how badly you want it.” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming slopier and more desperate as he could feel himself on the verge of chasing his own high, knowing all too well you were almost hitting yours.  

“I want you to fill me up, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- I want it so bad. I want you to knock me up and give me a baby, please, baby, oh my god- please.” You were all but panting at this point, your legs starting to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, the overwhelming sensation of his fullness, promise of pregnancy, and that damn chain dangling in your face was enough to finally send you over the edge. “Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I’m so close baby, I’m gonna, oh shit- I’m gonna cu-ahhhhhhh.” 

Those were the last words you were able to muster before you were screaming out Javi’s name as you came, euphoria and ecstasy radiating through every inch of your body, your orgasm crashing through you with so much intensity you could have sworn you were seeing stars. 

Watching you fall apart beneath him, soaking his cock in your arousal as you came had Javi only moments behind you, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each others combined with your wanton moans and whimpers and curses under your breath making him begin to babble incoherently. 

“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. Fucking soak my cock, baby. Cum all over me before I, fuck me- fuck myself so deep in you it’ll fucking take. Holy fuck- Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Gonna fucking fill you up. Give you all of me. Fuck, I’ll give you everyting, baby, mierda- everything you’ll ever wa-ahhhhhh” 

With one last final thrust, Javi was spilling deep inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls, milking himself of every single last drop before collapsing on top of you, the warmth and weight and of his body sinking on top of your chest as the two you sighed in sync, trying to catch your breath with long, labored huffs. 

As Javi felt himself begin to soften, a groan rumbled low in his chest while he pulled out, feeling the mix of your spend dripping out your hole, coating the inside of your thighs in glistening juices. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss of fullness inside you, your head falling back on the mattress in blissed out satisfaction, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to reality after floating away in post-colotial bliss. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, lifting your head back up to see Javi sitting back on his heels, admiring the mess of the two of you pooling between your legs. 

“So fucking pretty, Hermosa.” He mewled, peppering kisses down the soft skin of your thighs, making his way back towards your core. Before you could even realize what was happening, Javi’s head was back between your legs, one broad stroke of his tongue collecting the tangy, salty mixture leaking out of your cunt and lapping it back into your entrance quickly replacing his mouth with his fingers to push the mixture of your spend even further into you. 

Looking up at you, slick covering his mustache and smug grin spread between his cheeks, Javi curled his fingers just enough to make you yelp as he pressed against your g-spot, considering how worked up and overstimulated you already were. 

“Gotta make sure I keep you full of me, baby. Can’t let anything go to waste.” Javi smirked, gently pulling out his fingers, resting his hands on your thighs, drawing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs. 

You tried to sit back up, propping yourself on your elbows before Javi’s body was caging over you once again, slowly lowering himself down until your back was flat against the bed, cradling your jaw as guided you down with soft, slow kisses, feeling his chain brush against your chin he pulled away from your lips. 

“You’re not going anywhere, Momma. My wife wants a baby? Then I’m doing everything I can to give her one. Whatever she wants.” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead as his hand caressed your face, brushing your skin just gently enough to tickle you, a little giggle escaping from your lips as your eyes met his sweet puppy dog ones. 

“You’re ridiculous, you menace.” You laughed, playfully nudging Javi as he rolled over next to you on the side of the bed, wrapping his arm around you, tugging you to lay against his bare chest, your hand draping over his stomach before crawling up his chest, wrapping his gold chain around your fingers. “Hmmmm whatever your wife wants, huh?” You smirked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin. 

“Whatever she wants, Hermosa.”

“Your wife wants you to never take this damn thing off again.” 

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