#since he was a kid too like i knew you weren’t soft is probably the first time anyone ever knew that about chiron

[reidmania]

cinema seven | spencer reid

summary; spencer goes to see a movie in cinema with derek, when cinema seven breaks down, he offers to help the pretty — all too stressed manger (who he has been too nervous to ask out) fix the projectors.

warnings; guys this fic is actually just for me. cinema manger reader, fem reader, they lowkey break rules but we don’t talk about that, probably boy band haired reid and ooc spencer bc they flirt or banter idk, fluff!! So much fluff!!spencer has been pinning for a while

an; i am a cinema manger 😐 cinema seven is making me want to die because of the bloody projectors breaking constantly. this is probably soo ooc, and also like uncorrectly timed bc it based off how cinema’s are now, not how they were. Whoops. this has been in my drafts for weeks and i hate it.

Dimly low lights lit the theatre room, couples, families and other guests filling the space of the soft red velvet chairs set aligned, finding their seats as the advertisement’s played over the big screen in front of them, the stairs lit with small red lights to ensure everyone knew where they were going, and to ensure nobody missed a step under the dim lit lights.

The room smelt strongly of sweet buttered popcorn, and whatever antiseptic spray had been used to wipe down the cupholders of the seats when being cleaned in between movie sessions, the smell sent a small wave of reassurance over Spencer.

Spencer had never been a massive fan of cinemas, he preferred watching his documentaries or show’s from his couch at home, curled up in blankets, in an area he knew was completely sanity, away from the public and in his own space. However, lately Derek had been inviting him to the cinema more and more after he agreed the first time.

He didn’t necessarily mind, and he knew why Derek had continued to invite him — which was the reason he didn’t mind so much. The first time they had come to the cinema apparently they had picked a bad time, since it was absolutely packed the minute they arrived.

Thats when Spencer had seen you, working on one of the till’s. He had been to the cinema before, but he had never seen you before. As they got closer and the queue shortened, he was able to read the small ‘manger’ badge that hug off the lanyard around your neck.

Explained why he hadn’t seen you at the front before.

His palms had grown clammy as the line grew shorter, whatever Derek had been talking about was completely lost on Spencer, his gaze was locked on your pretty face smiling at a young kid who — spencer assumed — was blabbering about something, hardly coherent over the noise of the people around, but you smiled and nodded none the less as you handed the parents boxes of popcorn.

That was the first time he went to the cinema’s with Derek. Derek had watched the boy stumble over his words as he spoke to you when you served them, cheeks flushing and his gaze never meeting yours for two long. You had laughed and told him to take his time as you wiped down the benches, listening intently. He had taken note of the way you juggled tasks all at once, making popcorn, serving, cleaning.

He had been three times since, the second time wasn’t with Derek, and he honestly didn’t really want to see a movie, he just wanted to see you, unfortunately you weren’t working and he was left seeing a movie he didn’t actually want to watch.

Derek teased the boy endlessly, about his cinema crush. Which was why him and Derek were here now. Again, a movie Spencer had no interest in, but it was busy enough that you would have to be working tills. That was enough to justify seeing a boring film to Spencer.

He had seen you, you had served them and when you smiled widely with recognition of their faces Spencer felt like he was about to pass out with how hard his head was beating. Now he was sitting in the cinema, next to Derek who was shovelling handfuls of popcorn into his mouth before the movie had actually even started.

It was only about five minutes into the actual film when the sound had dropped out.

It was another five minutes before people started talking, before someone had stood up to leave the cinema. Then another two minutes before a worker — not you, a different one, came in and looked over the screen before talking into a hand held radio.

People were growing frustrated, annoyed and restless in waiting. Fair enough, no one really wanted to see a film with no sound. However what made Spencer pinch his eyebrows together with a frown is when you did walk in, and there was someone else standing, obviously taking their frustration out on you.

Spencer looked at Derek, who looked at him at the same time, obviously noticing the interaction before the guy had returned to his seat in a frustrated huff. Then your voice rang out throughout the cinema as you stood to the side, Spencer watched from his seat as your hands toyed with the lanyard around your neck.

“Im really sorry about this guys— We’ve been having issues all day. Just give me a couple of minutes to try to fix the projector then I’ll put it back to before the sound went off, so you don’t miss anything.” You sounded stressed, clearly apologetic as you spoke. There were mumbling that went around the cinema. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed as you ran your hand through your hair before turning to walk out.

Spencer— didn’t know what was going through his mind when he stood up and made his way down the stairs, ignoring the confused splutter from Derek. Spencer made his way out of the cinema, looking around at the foyer area, it didn’t take long to see you.

Standing there, you were talking to another customer, clearly stressed and in a rush but still respectful. He waited patiently before the customer thanked you and walked away. His feet worked quicker than his mind could when he walked up to you.

“Hi” he said gently. Your eyes lifted to his before you looked towards a doorway, you smiled softly. He stood in front of you, your hands continued to fidget, he noticed that, he noticed the way your cheeks were slightly flushed and a few baby hairs stuck to your forehead from sweat.

You wiped your cheek, “Hi- Cinema seven right? I promise I’m getting there — Im so sorry.” You apologised, his heart both warmed and ached for different reasons, one because you remembered what movie he had gone to see, and because you sounded so insanely overwhelmed. There was a slight shake in your tone, he noticed.

He nodded, “yeah- But uh- I just- What’s the issue?” He asked, he wanted to slap himself in the face for the way he stuttered over his words. He was embarrassing himself, and wasting your time and he knew he should probably just turn around and walk back to his seat but he couldn’t.

A sigh left your lips, “I honestly have no idea — all day the sound has just been going out, it works for a bit but it’s just — so annoying. I’ve tried restarting it like ten times — i can’t seen any obvious issue, I really am so sorry.” You continue to apologise, he hated that you were apologising for an issue that was out of your control, its not like you went and broke the projector.

“No- Its okay. I just — I could look at it — if you want? If thats okay? I just, uh.. know quite a bit about them..” He offered, because you looked so stressed and so overwhelmed and he just wanted to help in any way he possibly could. This was something he knew he could do, he was smart enough to figure it out.

You sighed and smiled gently at him, “Thats really nice and I would totally say yes — like i genuinely would but we can’t uh— have customers going up there.” You mumbled out, almost as if you were genuinely disappointed by the fact.

He nodded in understanding because it made sense, of course you couldn’t. Projectors weren’t cheap by any means and if you just let customers go up there then chances are they would all be broken within minutes.

“Im not- I work for the FBI, I-I can show you my badge.” He mumbled, hand already reaching out for his pocket to pull out his badge and flick it open. Now, Spencer didn’t use his job as a personal weapon often; however this was different. This was you, and you were oh so pretty.

He watched as your eyes trailed down his hands to his badge, reading over the information before your eyes flickered back up to his — you were considering it, he could basically see the mental debate you were having with yourself. He hoped you said yes, because if not then he had wasted an incredible amount of your time and was actually just stopping your from doing your job.

Then you huffed out a small breath of air, “You know what you’re doing?” You asked.

He nodded instantly, “If it helps I have an IQ of 187 and have three pHD’s?” He offered the information, not to impress but to provide some sort of comfort to the clear worry over your features.

Yours eyes met his and you just looked at him for a minute — trying to find any hint of dishonesty in his features, but when you didn’t you huffed out a small ‘okay.’ Before turning around, Spencer followed you.

His mind was spinning. If he thought he was flustered before now was something else. His skin felt so hot he wanted to dive into a pool of pure ice, despite knowing that it wouldn’t actually be nearly as enjoyable as it sounded right now.

“Please don’t make me regret this. And please— for the love of everything above, don’t break anything, i do not need to loose my job right now” you had mumbled as he followed you up the stairs after you unlocked the door. He smiled gently at your words and the trust you were putting in him, maybe it was naive and stupid if it was someone else who had bad intentions, but you took your chances with him.

Spencer steps up to the controls, eyeing the mess with a focused look, his fingers tracing over the switches and buttons like he’s reading a puzzle. “Wow,” he says after a beat. “This is… pretty old-school.”

You let out a short laugh, leaning against the doorway. “Yeah, tell me about it. I’m honestly surprised we haven’t had more breakdowns.”

He glances over at you, his expression softening. “You’ve been keeping this place running pretty well, considering.”

The compliment catches you off guard, and for a moment, you feel your face flush. You quickly shake it off and nod toward the panel. “So, you think you can fix it?”

Spencer nods confidently, already getting to work. He’s methodical as he checks the wires and makes adjustments, explaining the technicalities as he goes. You pretend to understand most of it, but really, you’re just watching him, impressed by how he seems to know exactly what to do.

After a few minutes of working in silence, he glances at you again. “You know,” he says with a small grin, “this isn’t the first time I’ve saved a situation with some quick rewiring.” He grows more comfortable under your gaze as time goes on, the nerves still fluttering through his body, he tries to keep his hands as steady as possible — because you were trusting him.

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself.

“Yeah. One time, I had to disarm a bomb using only a circuit board and a pair of wire cutters.” He pauses, eyes sparkling with that same quiet confidence. “This is a little less stressful.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I should hope so.”

The conversation continues like that—light, easy, playful. and the tension you’ve been feeling all evening starts to melt away. There’s something about his calm demeanor that puts you at ease, like you can trust him to handle things, not just here, but in general. It’s a strange feeling, but a good one.

Finally, he steps back from the panel, brushing his hands together. “That should do it.”

You blink, glancing at the screen where the sound has suddenly returned, loud and clear. “You fixed it?”

“Looks like it,” he says, his voice soft but full of satisfaction.

A wave of relief washes over you. You hadn’t realized just how tightly wound you’d been until now. You smile, unable to hold back your gratitude. “Thank you. Seriously, you have no idea how much this helps.”

Spencer shrugs, looking a little bashful. “It’s nothing, really.”

But it’s not nothing. You can feel that. He’s helped you out, more than just with the projector, and the gratitude in your chest grows warmer.

You glance at him, hesitating. He can see it in your gaze, your eyes are on his, a warm smile on your face. He has to stop his mind from drifting away.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” you say, your voice softer now, more personal. “Is there anything I can do— Free tickets, do you need more popcorn?— That doesn’t do it justice. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, please let me know” You rambled and his heart fluttered.

There’s a pause, just long enough for you to wonder what he’s thinking. Then, he meets your eyes, his expression a mix of uncertainty and hope. “How about a date?”

The question hangs in the air, and your heart skips a beat.

It takes a moment to process what he’s asking, but when you do, you feel a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re asking me out?”

He nods, looking more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “If you’re free. I’d really like to take you out sometime.”

You furrow your eyebrows slightly, hands coming back up to fumble with the lanyard on your neck — for maybe the hundredth time. You look over his face as id you don’t believe him for a moment before you let out a breathy laugh, and for a moment his heart dropped with the idea of rejection.

“Yeah- Yeah. I’d like that.” You said. And he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

Spencer liked the cinema’s a lot more now.

[rozecrest]

kevin is a born romantic like the way chiron FALLS back into his bed after he calls him because a man who looked like him played a love song on a jukebox and chiron is immediately having erotic dreams about him bathed in yellow light again

[hihomeghere]

Dreams | Arthur Morgan/Reader

Word Count : 1.1k Summary : Arthur starts having dreams of starting a family with you Warnings/tags : Cursing, fluff, mention of infidelity, just Arthur being a sweet guy <3

He knows he shouldn’t feel like this. Shouldn’t be having these thoughts, because all they are just dreams. They’re never going to become a reality. Not when they’re constantly on the move, running from place to place. He sees the way it affects Jack, poor kid, not knowing what the hell is going on. And his daddy doesn’t exactly help him understand. 

He can’t even say he would be a better father, he wasn’t before. 

Hell you two ain’t even married yet, and he’s not that much of a fool. Not anymore. His regret for not marrying Eliza weighs heavily on him most days, even if he didn’t love her in that way. Now you on the other hand, he loves you more than anything. More than this stupid gang, more than life itself. He would happily lay down his life if he knew you would be happy, safe. 

When these thoughts enter his head, he can’t say. His days sort of blend together, making it hard to pinpoint. Although seeing you interact with Jack doesn’t help. 

You are so sweet, so motherly, hell you even mother the younger folks in the gang. Soft touches, kind words, but internally strong. You have all the qualities he finds attractive in a woman. Somehow you fell for him just as hard as he fell for you. 

But he ain’t a fool, he knows this ain’t the right time or place. So instead he writes down all these dreams in his journal, his safe place. The place where he can say anything without being judged. He dreams of little girls, he didn’t know how to interact with Isaac. Too afraid of being his own father. Girls seem less daunting, and a little you would be perfect. He already has one angel, what’s one more?

He comes up with the name while north of Brandywine Drop. The bright purple flowers caught his eye just off the trail.

Violet.

Violet Beatrice Morgan.

His heart sings, scribbling the name down in the margins of his journal. He finds himself writing VM in his journal, smiling foolishly to himself. It’s beautiful, his precious flower. 

It’s not like you meant to snoop. You were looking for Arthur, since he was nowhere to be found. You entered his tent, which in reality wasn’t much of a tent at all, finding his journal open. You walked over to it, looking over the worn page. There were the normal doodles he drew, along with his flowing hand writing. But one thing stood out to you, a pair of initials circled by hearts. VM.

You furrowed your brows, you couldn’t think of anyone you knew with the initials VM. Those definitely weren’t your initials either. 

With your curiosity peaked you flipped through a couple more pages. VM was written everywhere, along with those damn little hearts. 

You felt that little green monster grow inside you the further you looked into his journal. Biting your cheek so hard you could taste blood. It did nothing to quench the fire inside of you. 

“Darlin?” Arthur called walking into the so-called tent. You dropped the journal back onto the table, turning to face him. “There you are.” He grinned walking towards you.

“Here I am.” You said forcing a smile.

“Hosea said you were looking for me.” He said softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "Anything you need?”

“Must have forgot.” You said with a noncommittal shrug, “I ought to get back to work.” You nod walking past him. Arthur furrowed his brow at your attitude. Did he say something to offend you?

Then his eyes fall onto his open journal. His stomach drops at the sight. Jesus, you saw. You saw all of it. You were probably thinking the worst, seeing the initial surrounded by hearts. How was he gonna fix this?

You stomped off to the edge of camp, trying to wrack your brain as to who this VM could be. And why was Arthur drawing hearts beside the initials? Maybe you had this all wrong, Arthur would never do anything to hurt you. He was a good man, a man you could trust. Wasn't he?

“Y/n!” He called trailing behind you, a crestfallen expression on his face. You stopped at the tree lining, biting your lip as you turned to face him. “I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I-“ He sighed looking down, pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a low curse. 

“Who is she?” You asked clenching your jaw. He furrowed his brows looking up at you.

“What?” He asked, his hands settling on his hips.

“VM, the girl you keep drawing hearts around. Who is she?” You were blunt, something he loved so much. Always telling it like it is, never leaving him to guess your feelings. A small smile spread on his face, which only made you more mad. “Seriously, you think this is funny?” You hissed, taking a step towards him. Arthur only had one choice, to tell you the truth. 

“Violet.” He said softly, reaching for you. “Violet Morgan.” You let him wrap his hand around your forearm, pulling you close to his chest.

“Who is Violet Morgan?” You asked, swallowing thickly. He sighed, looking off to the side, wetting his lips.

“She’s uh-“ He shook his head, a nervous smile on his lips. “She’s not exactly real, not yet at least.” He said. 

You shook your head, brows knitted together, “Not real? The hell you mean, not real?”

“I-“ He rubbed the back of his neck looking down, “It’s uh- shit.”

“Spit it out Morgan.” You huff throwing your arms up. 

“I thought of a name,” He explained, “A name for a girl if we- if we have one some day.” He said with a shrug, his cheeks flushed, almost as though he had been in a scuffle. 

Oh.

If we have one some day. 

“Oh Arthur.” You said softly, a smile spreading across your face. Feeling suddenly very foolish for doubting your man. “That's so sweet.” You took a step forward, tilting his face up to look at you. 

“Yeah?” He asked, looping his fingers in his gun belt. 

“Yeah.” You repeated, nodding. “Jesus you had me scared you were gonna tell me you found someone else.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Never. There ain’t no one else in this goddamn world that could replace you.” He said his hand reached up to cup your face. “You’re uh- you’re it for me darlin.” His bright blue eyes peered into yours, love and affection pouring out in his expression. 

“When we have our girl.” You said brushing away a stray strand of honey brown hair, “Violet will be a perfect name.” He grinned, wrapping a hand around your waist.

“Guess it’s settled then.” He said as he leaned down to press his lips against yours.

[prettyfastcars]

dangerous, tainted, and flawed | Dark!Mob!Lando

Summary: You met your husband under disturbing circumstances a couple of years ago. Your home was under attack one night, by one of your family’s rivals, and Lando – one of your father’s allies – came to help. He found you in your bedroom that night, and managed to save you but unfortunately no one else in your family survived the attack. You were distraught after that night, having lost everything, but Lando took care of you. Eventually, you two fell in love, he proposed, and you got married. Your life has been perfect ever since. Sure, you missed your family but you thanked the gods everyday for Lando. However, you didn’t know the whole truth about that night, did you? 

Themes: dark!lando, explicit language, smut, fluff, mentions of death, loss, and violence, possessive!lando

“Baby?” He called out, “I’m home.” 

His voice echoed in the foyer. 

The house was so spacious that often you couldn’t hear him when he called out for you, and he knew that. That’s why instead of calling out again, he followed the sweet smelling scent and the soft music instead. Both came from the kitchen; the smell of warm muffins and a soft woman’s voice singing about chemtrails over a country club. 

Lando leaned against a wall quietly for a minute, smiling to himself as he watched you moving around in the high-ceilinged, farmhouse style kitchen. You didn’t know he was here yet. You were busy mumbling the lyrics of the song while chopping veggies, probably making dinner and baking muffins all at the same time. 

Cooking calmed you down, ‘It’s therapeutic’ you once told him. And he’d been married to you for not too long but he knew that this is what you did whenever you had a long day at work. You were a successful gallerist and often you had to deal with snobbish people, or ‘young money kids who had no true appreciation for art’ as you also told him. 

He let his eyes take you in. You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, prettier than anything you’d ever exhibited he often told you, but the way you squirmed in embarrassment told him that you didn’t really believe it. That’s fine though, he’d spend a whole lifetime reminding you of that anyway. 

Once he was done ogling, that damn pale pink corset top of yours driving him insane as it was, he finally walked up to you and surprised you by wrapping his arms around you from behind. “There you are, baby,” He said, shoving his face into your neck and giving you as many kisses as he could. 

You giggled and tried to get away as he attacked your neck with kisses and soft bites but he tightened his grip around you. 

“Fuck, you smell so good.” He groaned, voice muffled now that he was nuzzling your neck like he always does. “I missed you so much.” 

“Lando,” You laughed, “I’m holding a knife!” You squealed, laughing and still trying to escape his ticklish kisses before any one gets hurt. “Okay you seriously need to shave, that stubble of yours hurts.” You managed to get him to stop. You placed the knife down and turned to face him as you leaned against the counter, caressing his cheeks as you cupped his face in your hands. “Too rough.” You commented, rubbing your fingers across his barely visible, but spiky stubble. 

He raised an eyebrow at you, his handsome face lighting up with mischief. “Is it?” He teased, “You weren’t complaining about it being too rough this morning.” He leaned in to whisper into your ear, purposely rubbing his cheek against yours, “Were you, baby?” 

Ah. This morning… 

You woke up feeling… funny. You opened your eyes and found that your husband wasn’t in his usual spot beside you on the bed. Instead he was busy down there, between your legs. You lifted the soft covers and found him looking up at you with nothing but desire and trouble in his eyes. 

You let out a soft moan when he held your stare while kissing your clit, and sucking on it before letting go. “Morning, baby.” He whispered, then got back to eating you out like he was starving. 

You threw the covers off and slid your fingers into his hair instead, “Lando…” You whined, the pleasure taking over you. “I’m gonna be late for work.” You mumbled, already feeling yourself getting to the edge. “I have clients waiting for me, you know? I have meetings, and…” You gasped, forgetting what the hell you were talking about in the first place once he began fucking you gently with his tongue. 

Damn his tongue and soft lips. 

Lando chuckled, a cocky look in his eyes when he pulled away and asked, “Meetings and what, baby?” 

“Don’t be a tease,” You groaned, shoving his mouth back to where you wanted him. He chuckled before working his tongue against your wet slit, his fingers slowly sliding in and out of you until you came with a soft cry. 

But he wasn’t done yet… 

Lando smirked as he looked at you, surely thinking back to this morning as well. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “You did get me late for work, you know?” You shook your head, turning back around to focus on the food that you were making. “Then there’s that anonymous collector,” You sighed. Lando wrapped his arms around you from behind again, placing his chin on your shoulder and gently swaying you side to side as you ranted a little bit. “I don’t mind them, whoever they are,” You said, “I do sell them a lot of stuff but why can’t they just show their face? It’s weird, you know, having a client without a face.” You sighed, “And then a really important meeting got cancelled. And one of the artists’ whose work is about to be exhibited soon is being a real brat.” 

Lando hummed, occasionally kissing your neck and shoulder as you complained a little more. “I’m sorry you had a tough day, baby.” He mumbled, kissing around your ear, “Want me to handle this collector for you? Or the artist?” 

You chuckled, knowing the nature of your husband’s work and his temper, “No. Please don’t.” You added, “I love my work, it’s just a bad day, that’s it.” 

“Okay,” He kissed along your exposed shoulder, “Then how about a bath? You want that? Or how about some wine?”  

You leaned into touch, “Bath for later,” You said, “The wine for now, please.” 

“Yes, my lady,” Lando let go of you with one final kiss on the side of your head.

You watched him as he left the kitchen. He took his suit jacket off and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. Then before he turned to head to the wine cellar, he gave you a wink, acknowledging that he gave you a little strip show. You shook your head at him. 

Once alone in the kitchen, you smiled to yourself as you thought about how far you and Lando had come in just a few years. 

Your smile faded into a sad one as you thought about the day, or night rather, you first met him. 

The sounds of gunshots and screams woke you up. You couldn’t hear anything but the chaos outside your bedroom. Bullets, screams, orders being shouted, furniture being wrecked, glass being broken, more screams… all of it muffled as you ran into your walk-in closet and hid in the dark. 

You couldn’t stop the silent tears from streaming down your face. You knew what this meant. It was an ambush. And you also knew that a few hours ago might have been the last time you saw your family. You just hoped they made it out alive. But no one was barging into your room yet… this meant that the fight was happening downstairs. 

You cried some more as you heard more yelling, more gunshots. 

This life, this family you were born into came with situations like this. Your father told you this since you were a child. He was well-known amongst gang leaders and mob bosses, which meant he had more enemies than friends. Sometimes those two were the same people. But your father had kept you hidden for most of your life, away from all this. 

The only reason you were even home tonight was because it was your birthday. You’d begged your father to let you celebrate it at home with everyone… 

You didn’t remember passing out in that closet. You didn’t know what happened or how you were found, just that you were. And when you woke up, you were face to face with a handsome young man with pretty eyes who reassured you that you were safe. 

He said he and his family were friends of your father’s. And that he was sorry but you were the only survivor of that attack. Your family was gone, your house was gone. All was gone. 

The year which followed was the hardest of your life. Grieving, dealing with so many losses, moving on with a heavy heart, getting the help you needed, finally learning how to stand on your own feet again… you couldn’t have done it without Lando. 

He was your rock. Always there when you needed to cry, to share a laugh, to make silly jokes, on days when you wanted to spend hours in bed, on nights when you had nightmares, on days when you felt light and happy, on days when your heart broke all over again, on days when it felt like you were finally healing, he was always there. 

He was a busy man, but he made time for you. 

Falling in love with him was easy. The easiest thing you’d ever done. So when time came, and he got on one knee and asked you to marry him, saying yes was the easiest thing you’d ever done. You knew you were both young, but he was it for you. 

Becoming his wife felt like a dream. Like you were a real princess marrying her knight in shining armour, the one who saved her from every bad thing and promised to protect her fiercely forever. Except your knight wasn’t altruistic, he didn’t come on a white horse and with a sword. Yours was dangerous, tainted and flawed. He came with power, money, guns, and expensive cars. 

“It better be thoughts of me that you’re lost in and not that anonymous collector,” His voice brought you back to the present. “Otherwise I might have to hunt them down and make them disappear forever.” Lando joked as he handed you a glass of your favourite red. 

You leaned against the counter, facing him as you took a long sip. Then you said, “I was thinking about you actually.” 

That cheered him up immediately. “Yeah? Do tell then.” 

You smiled faintly. “Just thinking about how lucky I am that I have you.” You avoided his eyes after. You always did whenever you felt slightly emotional. You always tried to seem stronger than you felt in the moment. 

Lando placed his glass down and came over to wrap you in his arms immediately. Somehow, he always knew when you needed a hug. You wrapped your arms around him and let out a sigh, your heart already feeling lighter just by being in his arms. 

“I’ve got you, baby. Don’t worry.” Lando said softly, his familiar scent already making you feel better. “You’re safe here, with me.” He reassured you. Lando knew you still had a fear somewhere, about being attacked like that night. But he often also reminded you that he was the most powerful man in this city, and no harm was coming your way as long as he lived. 

He often wondered whether you realised how lucky he felt that you were his. That night, when he found you passed out on the floor in the walk-in closet, something in him shifted. He knew he had to keep you safe, always. 

“Thank you,” You murmured against his white shirt. 

Lando pulled away to look down into your eyes. Fuck, he hated it when you cried. It felt like he was being torn apart. He quickly wiped that one tear which barely escaped your eyes and said, “You never have to thank me for taking care of you.” He said with a slight frown. 

“I know,” You whispered and pulled him in for a kiss. A slow, gentle kiss that quickly turned into a heated, passionate one. His hands grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into him, so you could feel the very prominent bulge in his pants. 

It made you whimper just feeling it. “Fuck,” You mumbled against his lips, “Will I ever stop wanting you like this?” Your shaky hands reached down to undo his belt, then just as you reached for his zipper, your stomach grumbled so loudly you were sure all the guards outside could hear it too. 

You both froze at the sound of it, then burst out laughing. Lando threw his head back and laughed so carefreely that you fell a little bit more in love with him at that moment. You didn’t think that was possible, but here you were. 

“I would love to bend you over the counter right here baby,” He chuckled, “but I feel like we need to get some food in you.” He said, kissing your cheek and pulling away to look at you as you tried to hide your face in embarrassment. “Hey, look at me.” He grabbed you by the chin and lifted your head up. “Let’s eat, and I’ll fuck you later. Okay? I promise.” 

You gave him a shy smile, “Okay.” 

—

After a light dinner filled with more laughter and easy conversations, Lando helped you with storing away the cooled off muffins before the two of you finally got into that bath, with another bottle of wine. 

You carefully poured some more wine into your glass before leaning back into Lando’s chest. You sighed again, settling against him. This was your happy place. Scented candles, dimmed lights, warm bath, wine, and of course, the love of your life. 

But then as always, Lando could never keep his hands to himself. It always starts out with innocent touches, along your arm, kissed on your shoulders… then he gets more and more demanding. His fingers caressed your inner thighs until you were squirming against him, his kisses turned into playful bites making you whine and whimper. 

“You never behave.” You mumbled teasingly, closing your eyes and letting him caress and touch you however he wanted. 

“How can I?” He whispered against your neck, “You’re too beautiful to resist.” 

You let out a soft moan when his finger carefully slid inside you. You whispered, breathlessly, “Remember we flooded the bathroom the last time?” 

Lando groaned, pulling his hand away. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave.” He let out a sigh as though you’d asked him to give up breathing. 

You chuckled at his dramatics. 

The two of you ended up staying, soaking until the water got cold. Then went about your respective night time routines before finally getting in bed. Right as you lifted the covers up to get in, Lando grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him. 

“Ah! Don’t even think about it. We both know you’re gonna start snoring the moment your head hits those pillows.” He pushed you down on top of the covers and tickled you until you were breathless, your satin robe coming undone in the process and exposing your naked body underneath. “Plus, I promised you something before your belly began braying, didn’t I?” 

You shoved him playfully, arguing, “It didn’t bray!” 

Lando pinned your wrists above your head and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Pretty sure the guards will ask me if we brought in a pet donkey tomorrow morning.” 

“Lando!” You laughed, trying to get out of his grasp but he was stronger than he looked. 

He ended up shutting you up with a kiss, his bare chest pressing down against yours. His skin was damp, the chains around his neck were cold, he smelled incredible. He was all you wanted. So you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer. 

He moaned into the kiss when you arched your back, pressing up against him. When he pulled away to look down at you, his stare was fiery, his pretty eyes filled with lust. 

“I love you, you know that right?” He asked. You noticed he often did. 

You nodded quickly. “I know.” You smiled up at him, “And I love you.” 

He smiled before leaning in for a quick kiss before his mouth slowly moved down your body. Kissing along your neck, biting your breasts, kissing down your stomach, your hips, your thighs. 

You lifted your upper body up onto your elbows and met his intense stare. His pretty eyes really were your weakness. Your safe place. Your comfort. Perhaps because when you woke up after that traumatic night years ago, those eyes were the first thing you saw. They’d been your favourite thing since. 

Lando held your stare as he spread your legs further apart, settling in between them. 

He pressed his lips to your inner thigh, his mouth getting closer and closer to your core, you tipped your head back, sighing quietly as you felt his breath against you. You couldn’t help but slide your fingers into his soft, slightly damp hair.

“You’re all mine.” He whispered, his tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. His shoulders parted your legs further apart as he leaned closer. He slowly brought a finger up to your clit, sliding it agonisingly slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds again. 

You trembled under his touch. “All yours,” You sighed in bliss as he slid a finger inside you, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit.

“Does my face feel too rough now, baby?” He asked. And chuckled proudly when you were only able to moan in response. 

“No…” You gasped, breathless and wanting more even as he teased your clit and finger-fucked you gently. That damn stubble of his rubbed against your poor inner thighs over and over again but you moaned in pleasure despite it all. 

You squirmed and moaned and gasped under his perfect touch. He knew you and your body too well by now, and soon, you were coming undone all over his tongue, your walls clenching violently around his finger. Your fingers scratched his scalp as you tugged harder on his hair as you came.

You were still catching your breath as Lando left small kisses up your body before he hovered above you again, staring deep into your eyes. 

“Please…” You begged, wrapping your legs around his waist again. “I need you in me.” 

Lando gave you a cocky smile before kissing you once again, the taste of you on his tongue still. You didn’t mind the roughness of his stubble this time, but you growled into the kiss because you were impatient and all he did was kiss you over and over again. 

“Impatient, are we?” Lando chuckled at your little growl, not breaking the kiss as he slowly slipped inside of you, groaning into the kiss as he went.

You gasped as he filled you up, all of him stretching you out and fitting nicely inside you. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he moved his hips the slightest bit, making you whine at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you. 

“Fuck baby, you feel so good…” He groaned, his grip on your body tightens, possibly leaving bruises on your hips and thighs but you didn’t care. 

You would never get bored of this you realised. Of him, his touch, his warmth, his kisses… you were so glad he was yours. 

You could feel your walls clenching around him as he sped up and pounded into you, to a point where the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of him moving against your body. Nothing else in the world mattered. Your long day at work was forgotten, nothing else existed. Just you and him. 

“So fucking good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to bite your lower lip. 

You moaned at how perfect his lean and muscular body felt against yours. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrusts were relentless and unbearably good. You closed your eyes as you felt the pressure around your lower body; tight and hot.

Lando smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “Look at you, baby,” He whispered, “It’s like you were made just for me.” The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. 

You were unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core and you whined again when his fingers found your clit while he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Come for me…” he whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him again. Whimpering and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock.

He kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze. He watched you in awe, lips parted, breaths in rags, heart racing. 

He almost came as well. But then he slowed down, pulled out and stopped for a moment. He caught his breath, and held back from coming no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to make you come again, he needed to hear you moan for him again. 

“Turn around for me, baby,” He spoke, caressing your thigh as you struggled to sit up. “Come on,” He urged, “Face down, ass up. Come on, baby.” 

You did as he asked, your hips and ass up while your face was pressed against the bed. You were still catching your breath when his hand reached around and touched you in between your legs, his fingers rubbed around your clit and made you tremble and moan given how sensitive you were. 

His body bent over yours, his warm, damp chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck until his mouth reached your ear, “I know you’re tired, my love,” He whispered, kissing the side of your face while you caught your breath, “But I need you to come for me again. Can you do that for me, baby?” 

You nodded slowly. Lando hummed in satisfaction as he kissed along your shoulder before gripping each side of your hips, and pushing into you from behind. 

Your body was sensitive from earlier, so you whined and whimpered as he filled you up again. Your fingers gripped the covers beneath you tightly, and your mind was foggy, everything was floaty as he pounded into you. 

You reached your high quicker this time, moaning his name and coming undone just a couple of minutes later. 

You felt his thrusts becoming irregular, faster, his cock throb against your walls violently. He groaned and growled as he came, his body wrapping around you from behind. You both fell on your sides, catching your breaths and calming your hearts down. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked, spooning you from behind. 

You could only nod as he kissed you on the back of your neck. 

“You did so good for me, baby.” He murmured, “Now let’s get in bed, yeah?” 

You were pretty much limp after that. So Lando cleaned you up, then himself and then got the bed ready while you just laid there with a smile on your face watching him. He ended up having to tuck you in as well, since you refused to move. 

Lando playfully groaned, “I spoil you too much.” He said, getting on his side of the bed before pulling you close to cuddle under the covers. “People warned me against spoiling my wife too much.” 

You were already half asleep at this point. Damn it, he was right about you falling asleep the moment your head hits the pillows. But still you murmured, more like slurred, “Didn’t they also tell you to shave else your wife will have burns on her inner thighs?” 

Lando chuckled, rubbing his cheek against yours purposely again, “Okay fine, I’ll shave tomorrow. Happy?” 

“Hmm,” You mumbled, already drifting off to sleep. Safe in his arms as you’ll always be. “You better,” Lando chuckled at how you desperately tried to stay awake. “Otherwise I’m gonna run away.” 

With that you were gone. Your breathing changed so Lando knew you were surely asleep. Soon you’ll start snoring softly. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. 

“Silly baby,” He whispered as he adjusted the covers so you were properly warm. “You can’t run away from me,” He whispered against your forehead as he cuddled you, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “There’s a tracking implant in your arm.” 

Then he let out a soft chuckle. “Of course, you don’t know that, do you?” He cooed, “Hmm, baby?” He kissed your forehead again. “There’s so much you don’t know.” He caressed your cheek as you began snoring softly just as he expected. 

He had always found it adorable. He continued whispering to you, knowing you couldn’t hear him. “There’s so much I have to keep from you. I hate lying to you, but it’s for your own good, baby.” 

He kept caressing your face as he spoke to himself, “Like how you mistook me for your saviour that night.” He sighed then admitted, “I was the one who attacked your father’s house. I was the rival. Then I had my men search the house after everyone was dead, and they found you unconscious and brought you to me.” He let out another sigh, pulling you closer. “You were so beautiful, baby. Even with dried up tears on your face. You were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. And I vowed to never make you cry after that night. It was the last time, I promise.” 

He paused. Then continued, “Your dad was such a pain in my ass, baby. I’m sorry I killed him. I’m sorry I killed all of them. I’m sorry I never told you the truth. How could I? You would hate me forever.” He placed a kiss on your nose, “But look,” He murmured, “All that shit brought you to me. And aren’t we happy together?” 

He let out another chuckle and said, “Wanna know another secret, pretty girl? I’m your anonymous collector. I have a warehouse full of the pieces you exhibit.” He confessed in the darkness and the silence. “I mean, what kind of a husband would I be if I don’t support my wife’s career, huh? Everything I do is to make you happy.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead again. “I love you so much, baby. It drives me insane.” Then he chuckled and added as an inside joke to himself, “Or maybe it did drive me insane already.”

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 || 𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭

— pairing: logan howlett x plus size mutant!reader

— summary: who knew the key to scaring away the big bad wolverine was a kiss?

— warnings: angst that i have no idea how to describe, heartbreak :/, miscommunication that is quickly rectified, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, horribly described plant ability (forgive me).

— wc: 664

⋆ a/n: OH ME OH MY!!! i haven't written for a new character in so long! it's so refreshing!! forgive me if logan is a bit ooc and a lot of things probably don't make sense, i'm still in the process of watching the movies so i tried to keep things as vague as possibly aside from the spoilers i've been given! i have fallen so deeply in love with this man so he will definitely be making an apperance on this acc more! ty for your request! @hicanivent

masterlist | AO3

You never thought in all your years of living, you would be the one thing that managed to scare away Logan, and all it took was a kiss.

Maybe it was your fault or possibly the tension that had surrounded the two of you since you had joined the mutant school as another professor.

Either way, what was done is done, and you couldn’t sleep.

You stared up at your roof which was decorated with all sorts of plant vines. Though you were a mutant as well, your ability was minor. You were able to manipulate plants; you could make them move, grow, or wilt. It was nothing too impressive, but the children enjoyed your gardening class.

Gardening wasn’t the only thing you taught, there was also the history of different herbs and species of plants and how they were used throughout time. 

That’s where your dilemma of insomnia lies. With an aching heart and an active brain, essays sat delicately on your desk in your classroom, and you were contemplating on whether or not you should just grade them. The kids weren’t expecting them back anytime soon, but what else were you to do?

A part of you is afraid that maybe you’ll run into Logan stalking through the halls like he does sometimes when his brain gets too loud. It was like he always had something to run from, and somehow he’d always find himself knocking on your door at all hours of the night. Sometimes he wouldn’t even talk, just sit there and find comfort in your presence.

You weren’t ashamed to say that you’re worried about him, but Logan was probably the most stubborn man you had ever met, so if he didn’t want to do something, you couldn’t force him. Sometimes you wish you could.

You threw your blankets off of your body, sitting on the edge of the bed and held your head in your hands. You felt the exhaustion seeping into your bones and you let out a prolonged sigh.

A hesitant knock on your door pulled you out of your tired stupor, your head shooting up in alarm.

You honestly thought it was one of the kids, definitely not a very shaken up looking Logan.

A very bitter part of you wanted to turn him away, but a very extremely soft part of you – the part that was in love with him – led you to open up the door wider with a small encouraging smile on your face.

He looked unsure for a moment before breaking through the threshold. 

“I’m sorry.”  Was the first thing he had said before you even had a chance to turn around after shutting the door.

He was standing in the middle of your room, the midnight glow shining through your window casted an enchanting shadow against the naked skin of his arms that was exposed by his classic plain white undershirt. 

You don’t know how you managed to speak through the dryness of your throat.

“It’s okay.” You spoke quietly, looking up at him through tired eyes. “No it’s not.” He denied. You approached him slowly before you cupped his cheek. “But Logan, it is.”

Your words had a plethora of meanings behind them, that you forgive him, that you were waiting until he was ready. 

You stare at each other for a moment, his large battle worn hands rest on the plumpness of your hips, and the supernatural warmth of his body sends a pleasant shiver up your spine.

“If I kiss you, are you going to run away again?” You joke, breaking the intense atmosphere. 

A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips ever so slightly. “Nah, I think I’ll stick around this time.”

Logan doesn’t give you time to retort because he had already found himself kissing you, the scruff of his mutton chops scratching at your cheeks ever so slightly. It tickled and you giggled, smiling into his mouth.

You felt him smile too.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: It's been some time since your death and yet none of the Hashira still have the heart to remind Muichiro you're gone. A/N: I'm not too sure if the title means what I think it means so let me know if it's wrong...anyways I got the idea from a fic of @oceanxmoonz, so credits! Also you can probably tell I got lazy at the end... WARNINGS: (y/n) is dead. That's it.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

Shinobu’s smile was a little faker than before as she turned around to face the expectantly waiting Mist Pillar, who seemed a little upset. She couldn’t answer that quite yet. “Are you looking for them?”

“Yes,” Muichiro said plainly. “I couldn’t find them at all this morning. Or afternoon…have you seen them?”

Was it sadder to watch Muichiro lose his closest friend - if not something more - and grieve about it for a long time after or sadder to watch him forget they were long dead? That they weren’t avoiding him like his amnesia had him think, that they actually couldn’t? He always needed to be reminded and Shinobu didn’t like to be the one to do so.

“Tokito…they died a few months ago, remember?”

“No, they didn’t. Ginko would’ve told me.” His eyes widened, then narrowed angrily. “I don’t think that’s a very funny thing to say, Kocho.”

“But, Tokito-”

“I’ll go find (y/n) myself,” he said abruptly, then walked off.

Of course he came back later with the same question; of course Shinobu’s smile faltered.

***

“…I forgot your name.”

“…”

Muichiro blinked at the stoic Pillar before him. “You’re the…something Hashira, right? I think (y/n) mentioned you. Are they back from both of your mission yet?”

Tomioka hesitated. He was honest but he wasn’t cruel. He knew exactly what Tokito was talking about, knew that he suffered from huge blanks in his memory. He envied the younger Hashira a little, to be able to forget such tragedy - however seeing him constantly wander around wondering where they’d gone was a pitiful sight.

So in the end he decided to evade the question. “Yes. (y/n) came back safely from the mission.”

The Mist Pillar’s eyes lit up. “Thank you. I’ll go find them now.”

Yes, (y/n) came back from their mission together safely. If only the same could be said of the last.

***

“HAR?”

“I said, where’s (y/n)?” Muichiro sighed after his almost shout at the disbelieving Wind Pillar. “Has your mission damaged your ears?”

“You little-” Sanemi checked himself. “I know damn well what it was you said.”

“Okay then, where’s (y/n)? I found this flower I wanted to show them.”

The older man’s mouth fell open, probably to harshly remind Tokito for the fifth time that month that who he was looking for was long dead and gone. Then it closed again.

Sanemi was not a soft man, evidenced by his scars, shouts, and treatment of his younger brother. But at the end of the day his intentions, though misguided, were what he wanted best for everyone. It was a tragic world out there and whether his next words were going to exacerbate it he would accept the consequences whole-heartedly - no one would fault him for not wanting to bring the poor kid back to shattering reality either, right?

“Probably out on another mission. You can’t keep hogging them to yourself, Tokito.”

“That’s odd…I thought they just came back…”

“Yeah, well, demons don’t wait for anyone!” Sanemi barked. Sadly, too true.

***

“Oh, Tokito…!”

“…Kan-something-san?” Muichiro’s face twisted in confusion as the pink-haired lady threw herself at him crying, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” Mitsuri straightened and wiped at her face, plastering a bright but trembling smile for the younger Hashira.

Muichiro blinked. “Okay. Have you seen (y/n)? I just got back from a mission but I can’t find them.”

“…perhaps they’re busy?” Mitsuri swept the tears on her cheeks again. “Don’t worry, I don’t think they’d ignore if they had a choice, Tokito!”

“Oh…alright then.” Muichiro drifted off, readily accepting Mitsuri’s story despite the obvious holes for lack of better explanation.

Mitsuri bit her lip, guilty at her lie. Every day Muichiro would approach with the same question and every day someone or some way it would be broken to him that (y/n) was long gone but as terrible as it made her feel Mitsuri never wanted to be the one who did it.

He’d found the love she’d always been searching for. Unfortunate one didn’t survive for long.

***

“Young Tokito! Are you looking for someone?!”

“You’re really loud…” Muichiro tilted his head. “Have you seen (y/n)?”

Tengen and Rengoku shared a look - the Sound Pillar broke the pause first. “Tokito, don’t you remember?”

“Remember what?” Muichiro’s attention span was already running out. “I think I saw them today but I can’t remember where.”

“You couldn’t have seen them,” Tengen starts again, for it’s not the first time the Mist Pillar has mistaken someone else for (y/n). “They’re-”

“Oh, right…at the Butterfly Mansion, I think. Thanks for…helping?” Muichiro left and the two Pillars glanced at each other again.

“Who’s gonna tell him? He can’t keep walking around thinking they’re still alive. That’s just cruel.”

“But if he remembers his spirit will be beyond crushed - you remember how he was when he first found out. For now, when we need to be most vigilant, perhaps we should let him be!”

Rengoku’s voice carried a tremor of uncertainty, however.

***

“I saw Kanroji and you talk a few days ago. Did you make her cry?” Obanai glowered menacingly at the deadpan Mist Pillar.

“No? She was crying?”

“Yes!” Kaburamaru hissed with his owner.

“Oh…right. Now I remember. I didn’t make her cry.” Muichiro looked up. “At least I don’t think so?”

Obanai resisted the urge to slap his hand on his forehead. He leaned in clsoer. “Why was she crying?”

“I have no idea,” Muichiro said, leaning back. He brightened. “Oh, right. I was asking about (y/n).”

“(y/n)?” Obanai stiffened but took a step back. “Oh. I see.”

“Which reminds me…I wanted to go see her after our sparring, but I don’t know where they are.”

The Serpent Pillar and his snake shifted uncomfortably. “You’ll find them.”

Not really. Obanai hoped for the sake of his comrade that he’d forget he’d already asked the question and not stumble upon (y/n)’s grave.

***

Himejima too cried.

It didn’t really make sense to Muichiro, but he let the oldest Hashira lay a hand on his shoulder and say some prayers. He didn’t really pay attention to the wording but he caught his name and (y/n)’s.

It was safe to assume the Stone Hashira didn’t know where they were so Muichiro bid him goodbye (or at least he thought he did) and set off to go find them himself. From behind the trees one Shinazugawa Genya watched him go before joining his master’s side.

“Why isn’t anyone telling him?” Genya couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose someone so close to you, someone to love and care for, and not even remember when they were no longer there.

“Some things must be found out by himself.”

“Isn’t it unfair to (y/n)’s memory if Tokito doesn’t remember?”

“I’m sure (y/n) will understand…they were very patient with him. They will understand that he needs to take his own time in coming into terms with…”

“Coming into terms?” Genya’s frown deepened. “You mean it’s not just his memory thing?”

“Grief and denial are strange things.”

***

“Where are you, (y/n)?”

Muichiro knelt down by the headstone, dropping the bouquet next to him. “I hope you’re happy, wherever you are. I’m sorry I forgot about you for so long.”

He takes a deep breath and begins to tell about his day, like he’s been doing every day ever since he regained his memories after that fateful fight at the Swordsmith Village and befriending Tanjiro. He thinks they’d like this version of him much more.

“The demons have been awfully quiet lately,” Muichiro mused. “They say Kibutsuji’s planning something. They’re probably all out to get Nezuko. A big all out war’s going to be coming, I think, and I’m sorry I won’t be able to visit when that happens. So I’ll come more often now.”

He dusted off the stone, staring sadly at the inscription. “I’ll kill the demon who got you. I promise.”

At the price of his own life, (y/n) knew, sitting invisibly next to him, crying transparent tears but he wasn’t to know that.

[puck-luck]

Forever yearning for a jealous, dominant Luke Hughes. I mean spitting in your mouth, edging, mirror sex, etc. I need the filthy, down bad luke.

Scenario: maybe you’re becoming close with one of the other players (completely innocent-just forming a friendship) but Luke doesn’t see it as that way…

👉🏻👈🏻

warnings (in no particular order): spit(!!), jealousy, dom!luke, edging, mirror sex, one (1!) slap to the face just for the enjoyment of my friend jo, spanking, drinking (technically underage hiii luke turn 21 already stop being lame), beating yourself up, pet names and nicknames as FUCK (always bro do y’all even know me), road head, face fucking, unprotected p in v, dare i say breeding kink, implied subspace, allusion to size kink (probably established size kink to be fair), I THINK THAT’S IT BUT I’M NOT SURE! pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when luke gets jealous at the bar and doles out a bit of a punishment (code: luke is insecure about his performance on the ice, so when his gf starts talking with another teammate who is her friend, he gets jealous and feels like he has to prove himself by making her feel good, but he’s still a dom bc HOTTTT) wc: 6416

The Devils’ last game of the season was at home this year. There was no chance that they would make the playoffs and Jack was out in Colorado for his shoulder surgery, plus Luke’s parents weren’t able to make it from Michigan for his final rookie game. He was depending on you to be there, so there you were. You were cheering, you were yelling at the officials when they missed a call, you were laughing at Luke when he took a trademarked Hughes spill on the ice with barely anyone around him. Yeah, you were disappointed at the end of the game when the Islanders won (and it wasn’t even close), but it was just one game. It wasn’t the end of the world. It was a disappointment, but it wasn’t life-changing.

Luke, however, was much more upset with their performance when you met up with him after the game. He drove the two of you to the bar where the team was meeting for one last celebration before the off-season and he tried, he really did, to keep his complaints inside. He was stewing, just letting it well up inside of him and fester in the silence between you, until it spilled over.

“It should have been a better game,” Luke finally said, the harsh edge in his tone rubbing you in all the wrong ways. “We could’ve done more. If I had just–”

“Lu, baby,” you interrupted, voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was out there the longest, other than Jake,” Luke argued. “They depend on me and I let them down.”

“You were only on the ice for one goal, Lu. You couldn’t have done anything about at least the other three.”

Your statement was not something he wanted to hear. Your boyfriend, sweet as he was, always saw the best in everyone else and the worst in himself. Where he could have been blaming Brendan for the loss, since Brendan was on the ice for three of the four goals, he was instead blaming himself. He was never one to hold a grudge against his teammates or his friends or his family, which was part of the reason why you were so in love with him.

He grunted instead of giving you a real response, but you knew it was coming from a place of knowing you’re right but still feeling hurt.

“I love you,” you told him, just a reminder that his performance would never affect your affection towards him. 

“I love you too,” Luke replied, and you two fell back into silence. It was less tense this time, but his shoulders were still tense and he was frowning, almost pouting. He was so pretty, even now, but you hated how this expression marred his face.

When you pulled up to the bar, you were met by Luke’s teammates. While some of the men had gone home after the game, it was mostly the ones who had families. You knew their wives and girlfriends would have encouraged them to go out with the team rather than stay home with the kids, but you understood. If Luke had wanted to go straight home after the game, you would’ve gone with him and cuddled him until you fell asleep.

“Do you want to get out and get me a drink, baby, while I find parking?” Luke asked, always so considerate. 

“Yeah,” you agreed easily, leaning over the center console to peck his lips before you left the car. 

Waiting outside the entrance of the bar, Nico and John smiled as you got out of the car and walked over to them. You hugged each of them before entering the bar, Nico walking in ahead of you and John following you with a hand on your back. 

It didn’t mean anything to you or to John, but when Luke watched John guide you into the bar before he drove away to search for a parking spot, something sharp and green poked at his heart.

Luke finally made his way into the bar about ten minutes after you walked in, and your face had lit up when you saw him like it had been much longer. He didn’t see you at first, so you had the chance to watch him scan the room. His brow was furrowed as he scanned each person’s features. You knew that he was trying to spot you without looking for the other boys at first, but it was proving difficult with how crowded the room had become.

Timo appeared at his side and patted Luke’s shoulder in greeting. Luke talked to him for a minute before Timo pointed your way. Luke’s face split with a smile when he saw you and he gave Timo a pat before beelining towards you.

You looped your arms around Luke’s neck when he joined you, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“Gross,” Nico complained from next to you. “It’s only been a few minutes since you’ve seen each other.”

“You’re not in love,” Luke replied, snarky and sarcastic like he tended to be when it wasn’t just the two of you. He then turned to you. “Where’s my drink?”

“What a priority,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him. He pinched your side. “I sent Johnny to go get it.”

Luke’s expression changed for a split second before he schooled his features. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t so in tune with his emotions, experience that comes only after years of dating a person. 

You let it go, knowing that it can’t be too important, or Luke would have said something. He knew you were friends with guys on the team. After being around them for almost a year, having moved out here with Luke at the start of his rookie year, it was bound to happen. Plus, Luke wasn’t the jealous type. He knew that you loved him and you’d love him forever, saying yes in a second if he chose to propose.

But to him, there was something about the way you said “Johnny” instead of John. It was that and John’s hand on your back as he guided you into the bar, on top of an already hard night, that had Luke questioning himself.

“I asked him to get you a rum and coke,” you said, tilting your head up to poke Luke’s nose with your own. “Is that okay?”

“It sounds good, thank you,” Luke replied. 

You resume conversation with Nico, turning to face him but staying tucked into Luke’s side. He had a hand on your hip and the other accepted the drink that John handed Luke when he returned. He nursed it quietly for a while, engaging in conversation here and there, but mostly just enjoying his time with his friends. 

The game was the last time that his whole team would be together like that, but this night out was the last time that his team, his friends, would be together in the way that mattered. Even if no one was traded, if no one changed in the slightest (except Jack, coming back from injury), things still wouldn’t be quite the same. It wouldn’t be his second year, his presence wouldn’t be new or exciting. He would have to try harder, do better, and be consistent to show that he wasn’t just an example of beginner’s luck.

He clutched you a little tighter to his side at that thought. He was comforted by the way that you melted into him, moving to lean back against his chest. Your hand covered his and the other polished off your drink. He took the empty cup from you and kissed your cheek before pulling away to toss your cup, and his, in the trash can behind him.

When he returned, he was taken aback by the sight before him.

You had stepped forward and were carding your fingers through John’s curls and Luke saw red before he saw the thoughtful look on your face. John had just said to you and Nico that he thought his hair was getting too long, too unruly. You didn’t agree– it was a good length, the curls were just settling into their shapes.

“I don’t think you should cut it, John,” you were saying before Luke grabbed your other wrist and yanked you towards him. “Luke!” You exclaimed, startled by the movement.

“Time to go,” Luke announced, loud enough that the other boys could hear. He clutched your wrist, not your hand, your wrist, and pulled you along as he stomped toward the exit.

“Luke, what is going on?” You asked, voice resounding in your ears like it’s much louder than it actually is. 

Luke kept walking like he didn’t even hear you, pushing through the door and leading you down the block to the car. He opened your door for you and helped you in, but he slammed it shut once you were buckled into your seat. He rounded the car and opened his own door, glaring at you in a passing glance before settling into the driver’s seat.

“Lu,” you implored, pressing your hands against the top of your thighs. 

When he didn’t reply, you tried again.

“Babe, talk to me–”

“I don’t want you to speak unless you’re spoken to,” Luke said. He refused to look at you. “You think you can touch John’s hair the way you touch mine? You’ll let him guide you into the bar the way I would? I’m not enough for you, huh, baby?”

You blinked, suddenly shifting up to sit a little straighter. Luke, your sweet angel Luke, the baby of his family who would never hurt a fly, who avoided hockey fights at every cost, had flipped his switch.

“Answer me. I asked you a question.”

“No, sir,” you said. Your eyes flickered down to where Luke’s knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You inhaled sharply as you made eye contact with the veins decorating the back of his hand.

“No?” Luke repeated, mocking. “I’m not enough for you?”

“No! Lu, you’re more than enough, you know you’re the only one I need.” Your words came out scrambled and you tripped over them. 

Luke clicked his tongue, disapproval written all over his face. “Can’t even speak, can you?” He scoffed, reached down with one hand, and popped the button on his jeans. “Let’s put your mouth to a better use until you can find your words.”

“You’re driving,” you pointed out, casting a worried look at the road ahead of you.

“It wasn’t a question,” Luke threw you a glance. He looked back at the road, then back to you, this time holding your gaze. He cocked his head to the side, eyes softening for a moment. “Was it?”

“No,” you breathed out. 

“Good girl.” A smile spread over Luke’s face and he turned back to the road. “Get to it.”

You clenched your thighs together and unbuckled your seatbelt so you could twist towards Luke and lean over the center console. You reached out to unzip his pants, but he knocked your hands away.

“I didn’t say use your hand. I said,” he paused, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up so your eyes met his, “Use your mouth.”

The noise that escaped you was involuntary. You moved forward that extra inch and carefully took Luke’s zipper in your mouth, dragging it down. His boxers were revealed by the action, but that was the extent of it. 

“Come on,” Luke encouraged, growing impatient. What you couldn’t see from your position was the smug tilt of his mouth, knowing there was no way to get his cock out of his pants with just your mouth. “Take it out.”

“Can’t,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you can’t?” Luke mocked, feigning sympathy. “Poor baby needs my help, yeah?”

You nodded and hummed an agreement.

Luke’s grip tightened on your hair and he gave it a sharp tug. “Use your manners.”

“Please, Lu, help me,” you conceded.

“Help you what?”

“Help me take your cock out so I can suck you, please, sir.” Your voice was close to breaking, you were itching to get your mouth on him and make him feel good. 

Luke obliged, revealing himself to you. You opened your mouth and he pumped himself twice just to tease you before slapping the lip of his cock on the flat of your tongue. He fed you his cock, returning his hand to your hair when you had taken as much of his length in your mouth as you could. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail with his one hand, the other still on the wheel, and began to guide your head up and down. 

You gagged when he guided you to his base, nose touching the fabric of his boxers around his cock, but the groan he let out made the discomfort worth it. It was low and desperate, just pure relief.

“Wanna fuck your mouth,” Luke breathed out, pulling you up so just the tip of his cock remained in your mouth. 

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, swiping your tongue over his slit and relishing in the taste of his precum in your mouth. 

He moaned aloud, the sound seeming to echo throughout the car. You could feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. You let out a sigh, suddenly overwhelmed with contentment for your situation. Luke was perfect. He was the perfect boyfriend, whether he was his soft and cuddly self or this dominant version of him that wasn’t afraid to tell you what to do, to communicate what he wanted. 

“Would if I weren’t driving, too,” Luke mumbled, mostly to himself. “Fuck, baby, make me come. You know how.”

Luke returned both hands to the steering wheel and allowed you to move your head freely, to go at your own pace. You bobbed your head with enthusiasm, spit dripping down his shaft and soaking the fabric around him. You gagged at times, but the tight squeeze of your throat around him just added to Luke’s pleasure. He wasn’t shy about telling you how good you felt, either, making you more determined to make him come.

“Fuck, pull off,” Luke said, his voice a little shaky.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t, not when he was so close. The idea of having his come in your mouth, on your tongue, the manifestation of how you made him feel, was too alluring. 

“Y/N, pull off,” Luke commanded, reaching down to yank you off of him by your hair. He clenched his jaw as he held you just far enough off his cock that you thought, with just one bump in the road, you could capture it again. He steered out of the lane and parked on the side of the road. “You don’t want to listen? You’re so cockdumb that you can’t follow my orders?”

All you could do was look at him, eyes wide. 

He spoke through his teeth, never once blinking or breaking eye contact. “Since you want me inside you so bad, I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I come. You’re gonna take it. Even if you gag, even if you cry, I’m not going to stop until I come. Then, you’re going to sit back and buckle yourself in and I’m going to finish driving us home. You will not swallow. You’re going to hold my come in your mouth until I say so. Do you understand?”

Your jaw dropped at the words, the tips of your ears growing hot. “Yes, sir.” It’s nearly inaudible and you can feel your panties growing damper with just the thought of it– minute after minute ticking by, Luke’s come coating your tongue, not being able to speak or swallow. You’re completely under Luke’s control.  

He leaned back in the seat and motioned toward his cock. 

You allowed him to guide you onto his length again, getting comfortable with its size. You hollowed your cheeks and looked up at him, pausing your movements and staying statue-still.

A smirk took over Luke’s face. “That’s my girl.”

He took your head with both hands, keeping your hair out of your face and keeping you from moving an inch, and began to thrust into your mouth. It was sharp and hard and you tried to create a vacuum-type suction around his cock, as tight as you knew he liked it, but it was hard with the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat with every buck of his hips. You ended up gagging, and crying, and drooling all over his cock, just like Luke had said, and he fulfilled his promise that he wouldn’t stop.

“Look at you, making such a mess of yourself,” Luke scoffed. “Such a mess all over my cock, just to make me feel good. You’d let me do whatever I wanted, wouldn’t you, baby? You’d never let anyone else take you like this, just me, yeah? No one else gets to see you just leaking all over my cock because you’re mine.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at that and the moan you released around Luke’s length caused his hips to stutter, made him unable to hold back his orgasm any longer. He came in stripes all over your tongue, some of it leaking down the back of your throat before you could stop it. He pulled you off of him and crashed his lips against yours, a close-mouthed kiss because you wouldn’t dare disobey, couldn’t handle the idea of disappointing Luke.

“My good girl,” Luke cooed when he pulled away.

You offered him a lazy smile, head foggy and bones mushy. You were sated, an elevated version of just happy, and so, so comfortable. You loved him. He was everything.

“I’m not done with you yet, am I?” Luke asked softly, thumbing over your bottom lip. 

You shook your head.

“Open,” Luke said. “I want to see my come on your tongue.”

You hesitantly opened your mouth, pushing your tongue out so he could see the milky white substance coating the muscle. 

Luke captured your cheeks with one hand and leaned in with the other holding your head in place. You stared at his eyes, which were watching your tongue as a line of his saliva mixed with the come in your mouth. When his eyes rose to meet yours, it was the embers of desire that made your head roll back and the instinct, the pure instinct of having something in your mouth, that caused you to swallow.

Your head snapped forward, eyes wide and not doe-eyed, not purposefully innocent to make Luke’s heart jump. No, your eyes were wide with worry because you disobeyed him. It wasn’t something you did to spite him or push him further over the line. 

“I’m sorry.” The words leaked from your mouth and you scrambled to take Luke’s hand in yours, clutching his right with both of yours. “Luke, it was an accident, you know I’d never–”

His mouth was open in shock, briefly, before it snapped shut and his eyes twinkled with something downright predatory. His hand was limp in yours (though not pulling away) and he was still.

“But you did,” He interrupted. “You did.”

“I didn’t mean to.” You were trying to reason with him, but you knew the damage was done. Whatever he had planned for you when you got back to the house, it was going to be ten times worse now.

Luke just shook his head and removed his hand from your grasp, pulling back onto the highway and resuming the drive home. You weren’t far, the area around you looking more and more familiar with each passing second. The minutes stretched for what seemed like hours with Luke’s silence. You held your own hand nervously, pinching at the skin of you knuckles and avoiding Luke’s face. You couldn’t handle seeing the disappointment etched into his features.

Luke pulled into the garage of the apartment complex after just about five minutes. Suddenly, it hits you– you have the apartment all to yourselves tonight. There’s nothing to stop Luke, or you for that matter, from being as loud or as public as he wants. There’s a window in the living room, one that Luke mentioned after your last session. A spark traveled up your spine when you realize that tonight might be the night that he fucks you out in the open, for anyone to see.

When he shifted the car into park, Luke turned to you expectantly.

You apologized again, softly, once he looked at you.

His features softened then, seeing your apprehension. He reached out and took your hand. “Are you okay?”

“I feel bad that I didn’t listen,” you replied. Your eyes fell on your shoelaces, which were an off-white color after plenty of use. You made a note to yourself that maybe you should wash them soon. You wondered if they’d return to their original color. The shoes were much more interesting than looking up at Luke and meeting his eyes.

He tilted your head upward with a guided hand anyway. “You’re still my good girl,” he reassured. “Are you okay to keep going? Or do you want me to stop? I won’t be mad. Whatever you want, we can do it. We can leave this in the car and I can take care of you, baby.”

You could cry at his words, how great he is about your slip-up. You did want him to be sweet, but you knew that he needed this. He needed to work through whatever was going on in his mind and if he could just be in control of this, just for a little while longer, it would be so much easier for him later.

“I want to keep going,” you admitted.

“You know your word?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me?”

“Flower.”

“That’s right, baby.” Luke pecked your lips, but when he pulled back he was back to business. “Now, are you ready to listen to me?”

You nodded, eyes trained on his. Neither of you blinked, a silent contest that he ended up losing (something that would normally cause you to gloat, but now doesn’t seem like the right time).

“When you get to the apartment, you’re going to strip. You’re going to sit on the edge of our bed. You’re going to touch yourself while you wait for me and I want you to watch yourself in the mirror. If you come, and you know I’ll know if you do, you’re not going to come at all tonight. I want you to bring yourself right to the edge and stay there. Can you do that for me?” He spoke slowly and clearly, his voice gravely and dominant. He didn’t stumble over his words or pause and “um” like he did in interviews. No, this was when Luke was at his surest. This was when he knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.

“I can do that,” you agreed, unbuckling your seatbelt and gathering your things.

“I’m going to give you a five minute head start.”

You nodded at Luke, opened your door, and left the vehicle. When you got up to the apartment, you didn’t bother to hang your coat or purse on the hooks Luke put up just for you. You didn’t put your shoes neatly like the door like you normally did. Instead, you dropped your belongings and kicked the shoes off one by one on your walk to the bedroom. You shed your clothing in a similar manner, leaving a trail behind for Luke to chuckle at when he walked in the door. 

Fully naked, you stared at yourself in the mirror that faced your bed. You read once that it was bad luck to have a mirror face a bed, that your reflection could like… capture your soul, or something, but you kept the mirror there anyway because if there was anything Luke enjoyed, it was seeing himself fuck you in the mirror. He liked to watch you ride him in reverse cowgirl, so he could see your ass jiggle as you bounced on his cock with his own eyes and your whole body in the reflection. 

Sometimes, his hands would drift up and he would hold your tits, watching how he could envelop them in his palms. You tilt your head to the side, watching your own hands slide up your body to do the same. 

For everything you could imagine Luke doing, there your hands were trying to satisfy yourself. If you closed your eyes, you could convince yourself that it was him instead.

His cock would disappear into your pussy, thrusting in and out and causing you to whine. His fingers would circle your clit or pinch your nipples. He would palm your ass, or reach up to wrap his hand around your neck. He would reach just that spot…

You didn’t ever hear it when Luke opened the door and joined you in the room. He thought you knew he was coming, with the way you were whining his name and begging for him. Your eyes snapped open as he closed the door behind him and you quickly pulled your fingers out from inside of you.

Luke walked over to you and sank onto his knees between your legs. “Gimme a taste, love.”

You offered him your fingers, which he took into his mouth. He sucked on them softly for far too short a time, in your opinion, with the way his cheekbones became more prominent as he cleaned your fingers of your wetness.

“Tastes good,” he told you with a smile when he was finished. 

“Thank you,” you replied, practically a whimper. Your chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing your heart in your chest. You were waiting, just waiting, for Luke to tell you what was next.

He rose to sit on the bed next to you, guiding you to shift over so you were sitting on his lap. “I’m going to spank you,” he whispered against your lips. “Just ten times. That’s all. It’ll go fast, but I’m not going to go easy on you. I know you can take it.” Luke kissed you again, snuck his tongue into your mouth for a quick, far too quick pass, before pulling back. “Turn over, baby, and lean over my knee, yeah?”

Your movements were slow, your brain turning foggy again like it was in the car. Luke helped you over his knee, still clothed. The contrast between how clothed he was and how naked you were almost made you drool. It was nearly embarrassing, being this down bad for Luke when he seemed to be completely fine, unaffected.

Luke snapped you out of your thoughts with a spank. The pain was only there for a split second before Luke was rubbing soothing circles over your skin. You shivered when he dipped his hand lower and trailed a finger through your folds.

“So wet,” he murmured.

You clenched down and he pulled away, only to deliver a second slap to your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your arms.

“So, baby, tell me,” Luke began, bringing down his hand again. “Why am I spanking you?” He waited for you to answer before bringing his hand down again. “Because I swallowed– oh– when you told me not to.”

“Mhm. Why else?”

Another spank. Now, it was starting to sting. Your ass had turned a pretty shade of pink that caused Luke to bite his lip and run his hands over your skin, feeling the heat radiate off the surface.

You were quiet. You weren’t quite sure. Holding his come in your mouth had been the punishment for not pulling off when he told you to. You had been slow to say please in the car, but that wasn’t ever something Luke would punish you for, just something he’d remind you to do. “For, um…” You trailed off, not sure what to say.

Luke scoffed and spanked you three times, harsh enough that his handprint stayed imprinted on your body for longer than it normally did when he spanked you. You cried out, your head dropping and tears welling up in your eyes. 

“‘For, um,’” he mocked. “You don’t know? You’re that fucking dumb that you can’t remember what happened less than an hour ago?”

“Lu, please,” were the words that escaped your mouth instead of an answer to his question. They were teary and he almost stopped, almost, just because of how your voice shook. 

“Please what?” He spat, another slap echoing throughout the room. 

“I don’t know,” You sobbed. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me.”

“Five more,” Luke warned you and you nodded. 

It took a lot out of you, agreeing for five more, but Luke wouldn’t do anything he didn’t think you could handle.

“How about this, baby?” Luke said. Slap. “For touching John’s hair the same way you touch mine?” Slap. “For letting the boys guide you into the restaurant like you’re their girlfriend, not mine.” Slap. “For sending John off to get me a drink when I told you to do so?” Slap. “For not listening?” Slap. “For being a fucking brat?”

You wailed, slumped against Luke. He got a good look at you in the mirror, boneless over his knee. He took in the red skin of your ass, tracing the line of his raised handprint. 

“You’re mine,” Luke continued, sounding off. You turned your head towards the mirror, eyes hazy but still able to make him out. He was waiting for you to look at him, for your eyes to meet his. “You can’t– you can’t treat him like he’s special.”

And suddenly, it all clicked. Luke was jealous because he was scared of the same thing you’d skated around in your conversation right after the game. Luke wanted to be special, wanted you to see him and need him. He needed you to need him, to let him take control and take care of you and decide things for you, all because he didn’t want to be the person who lost everything because he wasn’t good enough. Even the idea that John could possibly take Luke’s place, as preposterous as it was to you, sent Luke into a spiral.

“Fuck me, Luke,” you said, voice shaky and light because of the headspace you were in. “Take me. I’m yours. Prove it.”

Gently, so gently in contrast to his prior actions, Luke helped you up and lay you down on your back on the bed, placing a pillow under your hips. You lay there for a few minutes, blinking slowly and watching as Luke shed his clothes and rummaged through his dresser drawers for something. His back was to you and you smiled to yourself, too fucked out to let out a giggle, at his backside. When Luke turned around, two of his gameday ties in hand, he cocked his head to the side at your smile.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked.

“Boy butts are so funny,” You answered. “They’re just so small. Like… where are your hips, Lu?”

Luke blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Oh my God, you’ve lost it.”

“I’ve been thinking it. We need to get you in the gym.”

“You’re being a brat.”

“And your butt is small.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Luke scoffed. He had walked to the bed and was tying one of your hands to his headboard.

“I’m waiting.”

Luke huffed out a laugh at your response. “You’re making it hard to dom you, baby.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was the road head not enough?”

Luke shushed you, moving to your other hand and tying that one with the other tie.

“What about the spitting in my mouth and spanking me?” You continue, goading him. 

Luke crawled up your body, kissing up your stomach and chest and neck as he went. 

One more sentence, and he wouldn’t find it so difficult to dominate you for this final stretch. 

He’s hovering over your lips, his breath fanning out over them.

“I bet Johnny could do it better.”

Luke pulled back, jaw dropped. His mouth returned to a strait line and his eyes turned murderous. There it was, there’s the dominance that he thought he lost.

 You smirked at him, proud of yourself for the comment you made, until Luke’s palm made contact with your cheek. Your head turned with the impact and you swore your heart stopped. You were too surprised to say anything. As the seconds of silence passed where you and Luke just stared at each other, same shocked expression on your face, you realized: huh. That’s not so different from when he spanks me.

Then, another second after that: That was kind of… hot.

“Are you okay?” Luke breathed out. He’s practically frozen in place.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Oh my God, Luke, yeah.” You pulled on the restraints above you, itching to get him inside of you. You circled your legs around his waist and raised your hips, trying to make contact with him. “Fuck, Lu, that was so hot, please fuck me.”

Luke blinked twice and searched your face for any discomfort, anything that would show him that you were upset or hurt by his slap. He hadn’t even done it intentionally, just driven by the pure rage of you mentioning John, saying that John could be better for you than Luke was.

It wasn’t until your wiggling hips caused his cock to make contact with your weeping pussy that he began to move.

He started by pinning your hips down.

“Greedy,” he chastised. 

“I need you in me, don’t treat me like I’m made of glass,” you whined.

Luke positioned himself at your entrance and snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside you in one fell swoop.

It knocked all the breath out of you. Even after dating Luke for ages, his size still surprised you.

“How’s that, huh? Can you feel me? Do you think I’m treating you gently?” Luke asked, grinding his teeth as he fucked in and out of you. His skin was slapping against yours and he moved one of our legs so your knee was thrown over his shoulder. “You think Marino could fuck you like this?” He practically spat out John’s name, disgust coating each syllable.

“Probably,” you quipped, your voice snarky. You were itching for Luke to slap you again, or something, because he wasn’t giving it everything. He was still shaken up by the fact that he hit you at all.

“‘Probably,’” He repeated, incredulous. “You’ll never know, will you, baby?” He snaps his hips harder, faster. “This is my pussy. It only gets wet for me, you only spread your legs for me, you can be a slut all you want but only in the confines of these four walls. You can be bad, only right here… where I’m able to fuck. it. out. of you.”

You moan, wanton and long in the back of your throat. Your hands are aching to grab his hair, to twist the curls between your fingers. “Lu, my hand,” you told him.

“What about it?” He asked, not slowing his pace.

“Untie it, please!”

Luke looked down at you, confused. “Why?”

You whined, keening as your back arched and you squeezed his cock. “Need to get a hand on you, Lu, fuck. Wanna pull your hair. So pretty, so much prettier than John’s.”

“Oh,” he whispered, his stomach turning. He reached up to undo the knot, trying to continue to fuck you and untie it at the same time. When your hand came free, it immediately found purchase in his curls. Your fingernails scraped his scalp and his eyes rolled in the back of his head as he bucked into you with uncoordinated thrusts. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Gonna make me come.”

“Please,” you begged. “Inside me, inside me–”

Your vision went white and your pussy was like a vice around him as you came.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, voice strained. He watched the bliss wash over your features and whined. “Fuck you til you’re full, show everyone you’re all mine.” 

It’s the thought of pumping his seed into you, making you round with his child, that sends Luke over the edge. No one would think to take you from him then, not that you’d ever go. No one would ever be able to call you theirs like he could call you his, not when he’s fucked you full, not when you’re carrying his baby.

“So perfect for me,” Luke mumbled in your ear, collapsing on top of you as he came down from his orgasm. 

“Just for you, Lu.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You paused, rubbing his back. “You know we have to talk about this, right? You’re more than enough and I don’t want you to feel insecure anymore.”

Luke pulled himself out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I think we could both use some rest.”

He got up from the bed and walked into his bathroom, grabbing a towel and coming back to wipe you clean. 

“Can it wait that long?” You fixed him with a look of concern.

“Baby.” Luke cut his eyes at you, then finished wiping you down. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

You shrugged. “Okay,” you agreed, then made yourself comfortable, pulling the covers over your body. You turned over, back to Luke, and spoke like it was an afterthought. “I loved it when you slapped me, you know.”

Luke groaned, leaned over to give you a kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

“Mmm, mean Luke gets me hot just like sweet Luke,” you replied. You turned your head and kissed his lips. “I like sweet Luke more, though. Sweet Luke cuddles me while I’m asleep.”

Luke laughed, going to toss the dirty towel in the dirty clothes hamper. “Sweet Luke will be back to cuddle you after he brushes his teeth,” he said.

When he returned, your breath was even and you had already fallen asleep, the ghost of a smile still gracing your lips. Luke bit his tongue, joined you under the covers, and threw his arm over the curve of your waist. Within just a few minutes, he was fast asleep next to you, softly snoring with his nose pressed into your hair.

notes: so, I, uh..... got a little carried away. I just kept having ideas. And I hope it worked out for me, to be fair. Hiiiiiii anon I hope this was good for youuuu love you bigggg I felt so awky-tawky writing some of this because as much as I would looooove a man to treat me like this, it feels so silly to write. Anyway. Loving y'all.

SEND MORE REQUESTS! I'LL GET TO THEM EVENTUALLY (they might not all be this long LOLLL)

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL ♡·˚

— [♡] ; love it's in the moments you don’t speak—the glances, the touches, the unspoken promises. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: mutual pining, fem!reader, fluff, intimacy, comfort, slow build, flirty gojo, first kiss, soft moments, special grade sorcerer reader, gojo is very much clearly simping

wc. 11K *phew!*

It had been a few years since you last stepped foot in Jujutsu High. The familiar grounds looked the same, though they seemed quieter without the chaos of students running around. The memories of training, missions, and countless teasing remarks from your former teacher all came flooding back as you walked up the path toward the main building.

You had been away, working tirelessly in the field, honing your cursed techniques, taking on increasingly difficult missions. It had all led to this moment. Today, you were returning to be officially promoted to a Special Grade Sorcerer.

As you approached the entrance, you felt a mixture of pride and nerves. After all, you hadn’t seen Gojo Satoru since graduation. It wasn’t like you hadn’t kept in touch with your friends, but Gojo… he was different. You knew he’d be at the promotion ceremony, and somehow, that thought made your heart race.

Stepping inside, you looked around, the echo of your footsteps filling the hallway. A part of you hoped you might run into Gojo before the ceremony, but knowing him, he’d probably make a grand entrance—like always.

"Well, well. Look who’s back."

The voice came from behind you, teasing and all too familiar. You turned quickly, and there he was—Gojo, standing casually with that same cocky smile, hands in his pockets, and his blindfold once again wrapped around his head.

"You still like sneaking up on people, I see," you said, trying to sound calm, though your pulse quickened at the sight of him.

He grinned. "And you still get flustered just as easily. Some things never change, huh?"

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, but you weren’t the same shy student you had been before. You had grown, faced some of the worst curses in existence, and yet Gojo still had this effect on you.

"I didn’t expect you to greet me so soon," you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I thought you'd be too busy for that."

"Busy?" Gojo’s grin widened as he sauntered closer. "I made time just for you. After all, a former student coming back to get promoted to Special Grade? That’s a big deal."

You felt a swell of pride at his words, but also a little self-conscious. "It feels surreal. I mean, being here again… and, well, being promoted."

"Surreal, huh?" He tilted his head, eyeing you with amusement. "Kid, you’re more than ready. I saw that years ago."

His words caught you off guard. Despite everything you had accomplished, hearing Gojo acknowledge your strength like this—it felt like something had come full circle. He had always pushed you, teased you, but he also believed in you more than anyone else.

"I wasn’t so sure back then," you admitted softly, "but I guess I’ve learned a lot since."

Gojo nodded slowly, a rare look of seriousness flickering across his face. "I knew you would. You’ve got the strength, and more importantly, the heart for this kind of work."

You blinked, surprised by his sincerity. He wasn’t just teasing you now—this was Gojo at his most genuine, and it made your chest tighten.

"Thanks, Gojo-sensei," you murmured, your voice soft. "That means a lot, coming from you."

He shrugged, the playful smile returning. "Don’t get all emotional on me now, kid. We’ve got a whole ceremony to get through. You’ve earned this, and then some."

The two of you fell into step as you walked toward the meeting hall. Gojo’s presence next to you was both comforting and slightly overwhelming, like it always had been.

As you reached the doors, Gojo stopped, turning to you with a mischievous look in his eye. "You know, I’m technically supposed to give a speech during your promotion. Maybe I’ll tell everyone about how you used to hide behind Megumi when I’d mess with you."

You groaned, shaking your head with a small laugh. "Please don’t."

He chuckled. "Don’t worry, I’ll be nice. Maybe."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. Despite the teasing, it felt good to be back in this familiar dynamic. The butterflies in your stomach hadn’t fully settled, though. Something about standing next to Gojo again stirred up old feelings—feelings you thought you had long buried.

As the doors opened and you stepped inside the hall, the attention of the other sorcerers turned to you. Gojo followed closely behind, his presence commanding the room as always. But this time, the spotlight wasn’t on him—it was on you.

The ceremony was a blur, words of congratulations and praise drifting in and out of focus. You stood tall, trying to keep your composure, but your mind kept drifting to Gojo, who leaned casually against the wall, watching the proceedings with an unreadable expression behind his blindfold.

When it was over, and the room began to empty, you finally let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You were officially a Special Grade Sorcerer now. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted, but at the same time, a new pressure settled in its place.

Before you could get lost in thought, Gojo appeared at your side again, his hand coming to rest lightly on your shoulder. "See? Told you it wasn’t that bad."

You smiled, looking up at him. "Yeah… I guess you were right."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you two. Then Gojo’s hand slid off your shoulder, and he gave you a lazy grin. "So, what’s next for the newly promoted Special Grade?"

"I’m not sure yet," you replied honestly. "But… I’m excited to find out."

Gojo studied you for a second, his grin softening. "Good. You’ve come a long way, kiddo. I’m proud of you."

Your breath hitched slightly at his words, but before you could respond, Gojo leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping just for you to hear.

"By the way, if you ever need a reminder of how far you’ve come," he murmured, his warm breath brushing against your ear, "you can always come back. I’ll be here."

You swallowed hard, feeling your face heat up all over again. He pulled back, that teasing smile still on his lips, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"Thanks," you managed to say, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’ll keep that in mind."

Gojo chuckled and stepped back, giving you a small wave as he turned to leave. "See you around, kid."

Some things really didn’t change. But this time, you didn’t mind.

It felt like home.

As you walk down the steps of Jujutsu High, you can still feel Gojo’s presence outside, his energy as unmistakable as always. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the grounds, and there’s something surreal about being here again—not as a student, but as an equal. Or as close to an equal as anyone can get with someone like Gojo.

Your eyes land on him, leaning casually against a tree near the gates, the evening light catching in his silver hair. He’s not even trying to be inconspicuous. things never change.

"I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost," he calls out as you approach, his tone as playful as ever. "Or did you just need a moment to compose yourself after all those heartfelt congratulations?"

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. "You weren’t even waiting here for that long. I thought you’d be off somewhere causing trouble."

"Waiting? Nah, I was just enjoying the peace and quiet before you showed up," he quips, though the smile on his face suggests otherwise.

You walk up to him, arms crossed over your chest, but there’s a flicker of boldness in your step. You’ve changed since the last time you were here, and you can feel it in the way you hold yourself. And maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to push back a little this time.

"Still wearing that blindfold, I see," you remark casually, your eyes flicking up to the familiar fabric covering his eyes. "You know, I thought someone as unpredictable as you might’ve switched it up by now."

Gojo’s grin widens, clearly enjoying where this is going. "Oh? And what do you suggest I wear? Something more 'grown up' like you? You do seem different, but I didn’t think you’d start giving me fashion advice."

You shrug with a smirk. "I don’t know, maybe something a little less… lazy. Or are you afraid of people seeing those famous eyes of yours too often? I hear it’s bad for their health."

Gojo chuckles, the sound deep and warm. "You really have gotten bolder. I like it."

You tilt your head, feeling the dynamic between you shift ever so slightly. There’s a tension now, a playful kind that wasn’t there before. When you were a student, he always had the upper hand, teasing you endlessly, knowing you’d blush and fumble your words. But now… now you’re not quite as easy to fluster.

"Well," you say, stepping a little closer, "I had to get better at keeping up with you eventually. I’ve had plenty of practice dodging your teasing over the years."

Gojo’s grin falters for the briefest moment, replaced with something more thoughtful as he watches you. He shifts his weight, pushing off the tree and straightening up, towering over you as he often does. "Oh, I don’t know. I think you secretly enjoyed all that teasing."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you blush. Not this time. "Maybe," you say with a smirk of your own, "but I think you enjoyed it more."

That catches him off guard. His eyebrows raise slightly, and for a split second, you see something flicker across his face—surprise, amusement, and something else you can’t quite place. He recovers quickly, though, leaning in just a bit closer, his voice lowering as if you’re sharing a secret.

"Well, aren’t you full of surprises today," he murmurs, his tone teasing but laced with something more, something that makes your pulse quicken. "You really have grown up."

You meet his gaze—or, you would if his eyes weren’t covered by that damn blindfold. But you feel the weight of his presence all the same, and it’s clear that this conversation is walking a fine line between old dynamics and something entirely new.

"I had to," you reply, your voice steady despite the way your heart is racing. "Couldn’t stay the same shy kid forever, right?"

Gojo hums, taking a step back but keeping his gaze locked on you. "True. Though, I have to admit, the shy part was kind of cute."

You scoff, trying not to let the compliment—or whatever that was—get to you. "Cute? Really? You’ve got a strange way of showing affection, Gojo-sensei."

His grin turns playful again, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s enjoying this new dynamic as much as you are. "I thought that was obvious by now. I’ve been nothing but affectionate with my favorite students."

"Affectionate? Is that what you call it?" You raise an eyebrow, stepping closer again, refusing to let him have the upper hand. "Because if that’s your idea of affection, you might need to work on your delivery."

Gojo laughs, a full, genuine laugh that lights up his entire face. "And here I thought I was being subtle."

"Subtle? You?" You shake your head, the smile on your face growing. "You’re about as subtle as a curse rampaging through Tokyo."

Gojo clutches his chest dramatically. "Ouch, kid. I’m starting to think you’ve really grown out of my charming personality."

You take another step, closing the distance between you two even more. "Maybe I’ve just grown into someone who can handle it better."

He’s close now, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him, and for a moment, the playful teasing gives way to something else. It’s like the air between you shifts—still light, but charged with an energy that wasn’t there before. You both know you’re walking into new territory, uncharted but not unwelcome.

Gojo studies you for a moment longer, and you can tell that he’s enjoying this new version of you, the way you push back, the way you don’t shy away from him anymore. "You know," he says, his voice a little softer now, "I might have to start taking you seriously if you keep this up."

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe you should’ve been doing that all along."

He grins, but there’s something genuine behind it. "Touché."

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the teasing falling into a comfortable silence. There’s no need to fill the space with words; you both know what’s unspoken between you. It’s a shift, a recognition that the dynamic between you is different now, more equal, more balanced.

Finally, you break the silence, feeling just bold enough to push a little further. "By the way," you say, your voice casual but laced with meaning, "I’m staying at a hotel nearby for a month. You know, in case you feel like catching up… or if you want to see how much I’ve ‘grown up.’"

Gojo’s grin falters for just a second, and you catch a flicker of something in his expression—surprise, intrigue, and maybe even a bit of challenge. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it’s replaced with his usual smirk.

"Oh?" he drawls, his voice low and teasing. "Well, don’t be too disappointed if I show up unannounced. I do have a habit of keeping people on their toes."

You chuckle, feeling the weight of his words, the unspoken promise hanging between you. "I’ll keep that in mind."

As you turn to leave, you notice Gojo falling into step beside you. His long strides easily match your pace, and though you’re both heading toward the parking lot where your car is waiting, it feels like neither of you is quite ready to say goodbye just yet.

"Walking me to my car, Gojo-sensei?" you tease, glancing up at him with a playful smile. "I didn’t think you were the gentleman type."

He shrugs with a grin, hands in his pockets as he walks casually next to you. "Well, I’ve got to make sure my freshly promoted Special Grade sorcerer doesn’t get lost on her way out. Besides, who knows what kind of trouble you’ll attract in the dark?"

You roll your eyes at his exaggerated tone, though the teasing warmth in his voice makes it hard not to smile. "I think I can handle myself. I’ve been doing just fine all these years."

"True, but you know me. I like to make an impression," he says, the corner of his mouth tugging upward into a smirk. "Especially on people I care about."

You glance at him, catching the way his words linger in the air, heavier than usual. There's a subtle shift in the mood between you—something teetering on the edge of playful and something deeper, and you're both fully aware of it. You’re tethering new territory, and the dynamic between you two feels different now. Mature. Equal. Exciting.

"So, it’s about making impressions now?" you tease, feeling the butterflies fluttering in your chest. "And here I thought you just liked showing off."

"Who says it can’t be both?" he replies smoothly, Gojo looked at you with a mischievous smile, his pace slowing just a bit as if savoring the moment. "You’ve grown a lot, you know. Not just in skill, but…" He tilted his head, eyeing you with a playful glint. "You’ve got a bit more bite now. You’re not the same shy little student who used to hide behind Megumi."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "I *did not* hide behind Megumi."

"Oh, come on, kiddo." He nudged you gently with his elbow. "You used to blush every time I so much as looked your way. Admit it."

You tried to suppress the smile creeping onto your face but failed. "Okay, *maybe* I was a little flustered. But in my defense, you never made it easy."

He grinned, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping just a little. "I didn’t think I’d have to make it easy for you."

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you were both quiet, walking side by side, the teasing tension between you now more palpable. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks again, but this time, it wasn’t out of embarrassment. There was something bold bubbling up inside you.

As you approached the parking area where your car was waiting, Gojo stopped, turning to face you. His grin softened, but the playful spark remained in his eyes. "Well, here we are. You sure you don’t want me to teleport you wherever you’re staying? Could save you some time."

You smiled, feeling the boldness surge within you. "As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll be fine driving on my own. But thanks for the offer, Gojo-sensei."

He arched an eyebrow at the way you said his name, his smirk widening. "You keep calling me ‘sensei’ like I’m still your teacher. But we both know that’s not exactly true anymore, right?"

You felt your heart race at his words. He was right—this wasn’t the same dynamic as before. Not anymore. You both knew it, and the air between you felt thick with unspoken possibilities.

You took a deep breath, stepping a little closer to him, daring yourself to take this a step further. "I guess you’re right. Maybe I should start calling you something else. After all, we’re both adults now."

Gojo’s grin faltered for just a second, a flash of surprise crossing his features before it was quickly replaced with amusement. "Oh? And what would you call me then?"

You tilted your head slightly, enjoying the rare sight of him being caught off guard. "I’ll have to think about that."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You really have grown. Look at you, teasing me back. I’m proud."

His words made your heart flutter in a way that felt different from before. But you weren’t done yet. Taking a bold step forward, you closed the remaining distance between you and Gojo. Before he could react, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

No Infinity.

The moment seemed to stretch, the warmth of your lips lingering against his skin, and for the first time in your relationship with Gojo, it felt like the roles had reversed. His smirk faltered, his body going still as if processing what had just happened.

When you pulled back, his usual cocky demeanor seemed to slip for just a moment, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

"That’s for all the times you teased me mercilessly," you said softly, your voice playful but steady. "And maybe for the times I didn’t tease you back when I should have."

Gojo blinked, and then, slowly, a grin spread across his face—wider than before, more genuine. "Well, well. You’re full of surprises tonight."

You shrugged, feeling a rush of satisfaction at the shift in dynamic. "I told you. I’ve grown up."

He let out a low laugh, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, you certainly have." He seemed to shake off whatever shock had held him back, his playful confidence returning in full force. "But don’t think I’m letting you get away with that so easily, kiddo."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What are you going to do about it?"

His grin was almost dangerous now, that familiar spark of mischief flashing in his eyes. "You’ll just have to wait and see."

The teasing tension between you felt like it was on the edge of something more, but before either of you could push it further, you decided to pull back, letting the moment simmer rather than boil over.

As you climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, Gojo stepped back, still watching you with that same teasing, unreadable look.

"Drive safe, kid," he called out, raising a hand in farewell.

You smiled, pulling away, but as you glanced in the rearview mirror, you couldn’t help but notice that he was still standing there, watching you drive off into the night.

It felt like the beginning of something new—something neither of you had quite figured out yet. But you were both adults now, and whatever came next, you knew it would be an interesting ride.

--

After a few days of settling into your routine post-promotion, things had started to feel more normal. Well, as normal as life could be for a Special Grade sorcerer. You’d spent most of your time either training or catching up on much-needed rest, all while reflecting on how surreal it was to be back at Jujutsu High—especially with the way things had shifted between you and Gojo.

The memory of the moment outside the school gates played on a loop in your mind. The teasing, the playful tension, the kiss you’d dared to press on his cheek. You couldn’t stop replaying the look of surprise on his face, the way his cocky grin had faltered, just for a moment. He was always so composed, so in control, but for a split second, you’d managed to throw him off. And you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

Now, it was late in the evening, and you found yourself sitting alone in your hotel room, the soft hum of city life outside your window. You had just finished a light training session earlier and returned to your room to freshen up. The thought of ordering room service for dinner crossed your mind as you flipped through the menu, your stomach growling in protest at the lack of food in it.

You settled on something simple and pressed the button to call down for service when your phone buzzed on the nightstand. Absentmindedly, you reached for it, half-expecting a message from one of your friends or perhaps a notification about your latest mission.

Instead, you saw a message from the hotel’s front desk.

"Gojo Satoru is here to see you."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked at the screen, rereading the message just to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Gojo? Here? Now?

You hadn’t actually expected him to take up your offer. When you’d playfully mentioned your hotel stay, it had been more of a tease—an open-ended invitation, sure, but you didn’t think he’d actually show up. Not after how things had ended at the school. The kiss. The tension. The unspoken things that lingered between you both.

But apparently, Gojo had decided to take you up on your offer for dinner. The butterflies in your stomach returned full force as you tried to calm yourself. You knew him well enough to know he didn’t do anything without a reason—especially when it came to situations like this. And yet, here he was.

You glanced around your room, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you were still in casual clothes—nothing fancy, just a pair of comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. Hardly the outfit for hosting someone like Gojo, but you had no time to change.

A knock sounded at your door, and you took a deep breath, walking toward it with a mix of excitement and nerves.

When you opened the door, Gojo stood there, looking as infuriatingly laid-back and stylish as ever. He wasn’t in his usual sorcerer uniform tonight. Instead, he wore a dark, tailored jacket over a simple shirt and slacks, his blindfold notably absent, replaced by a pair of sleek sunglasses. His silver hair was slightly tousled, as though he hadn’t bothered much with it, but of course, he still managed to look effortlessly put together.

"Surprise," he said, flashing that signature grin of his, as though showing up at your hotel room unannounced was the most natural thing in the world.

You leaned against the doorframe, trying to play it cool even though your heart was racing. "Gojo-sensei. I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on that offer."

He stepped inside, brushing past you as if it were his place. "Well, you told me you’d be here for a month. Hope I’m not interrupting anything." He glanced around the room with a playful smile. "No secret sorcery rituals? No dangerous curses lurking around?"

You laughed, closing the door behind him. "No, no rituals. Just room service and me trying to figure out what to order for dinner."

"Room service?" Gojo raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Come on, you’re in the city. You can do better than hotel food."

You crossed your arms, trying to keep your voice steady despite his teasing. "Well, unless you’ve got a better suggestion, this is the easiest option."

Gojo grinned, pulling out his phone. "Lucky for you, I’m a man of many talents. How about I order us something decent?"

"Decent, huh? You sure about that?"

He waved off your skepticism, already tapping away at his phone as he sauntered over to the small table near the window and took a seat. "Trust me, I know the best spots. You’ll thank me later."

You watched him, half-amused and half-flustered by how comfortable he was making himself in your space. It felt strange—having him here, in your hotel room, of all places. And yet, it didn’t. Gojo always had a way of making any situation feel simultaneously normal and completely unexpected.

After a few minutes, he put his phone down, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. "Food’s on the way. Hope you’re hungry."

You walked over and sat across from him, the hotel menu now forgotten. "I guess I’ll have to trust you on this."

Gojo leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, and for a moment, his expression softened. "So, how’s it been? Adjusting to the whole Special Grade thing. It’s a big step up."

You shrugged, grateful for the shift in conversation. "It’s been… weird, honestly. I’m still getting used to it. It’s not just the title—it’s everything that comes with it. Expectations, responsibilities. It feels like I’ve suddenly got all these eyes on me."

Gojo nodded, his tone a little more serious than usual. "That’s because you do. Being Special Grade means more than just power—it’s the influence, the way people look at you. But don’t worry. You’ll get used to it."

His words were meant to reassure, but something about the way he said it made you think he understood better than most. You realized that despite all the bravado, Gojo had been carrying that weight for a long time. The weight of expectations, of being the strongest, of always having people watching, waiting for him to fail—or worse, succeed too easily.

"Thanks," you said, your voice softening. "Coming from you, that actually helps."

He gave you a small smile, but then, in typical Gojo fashion, the serious moment passed as quickly as it had arrived. "But don’t let it get to your head. I’m still stronger than you."

You snorted, shaking your head. "Always so humble, huh?"

"Someone has to keep you in check," he said with a wink.

A knock on the door interrupted your banter, and you stood to get the food, returning with two takeout bags that smelled divine. Gojo grinned as you set them on the table, already reaching for one of the containers.

"I told you it’d be good," he said, handing you your portion.

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. "Alright, I’ll give you that. Smells pretty good."

The two of you dug into the meal, the atmosphere relaxing as you ate, sharing stories and catching up on what you’d missed in each other’s lives over the past few years. Gojo regaled you with his usual exaggerated tales of missions and his ‘legendary’ exploits, making you laugh despite yourself. And for once, you found it easy to tease him back, knowing that you weren’t the timid student you used to be.

At one point, Gojo leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head with a satisfied sigh. "See? Told you I knew the best spots."

You smirked, leaning forward. "Alright, alright. I’ll admit it. You were right about the food."

"That’s what I like to hear," he said, flashing you a grin.

As the conversation naturally slowed down, a comfortable silence settled between you both, and for a moment, you found yourself simply watching him. It was strange—having him here, sharing a meal in your hotel room, in such an ordinary, human moment. Gojo, despite everything, was still a bit of an enigma. He was larger than life, someone who seemed untouchable in so many ways. And yet here he was, in your space, being just… Gojo.

And then, as if sensing the shift in your thoughts, Gojo leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his eyes locking with yours.

"You know," he said quietly, his voice softer now, "I wasn’t just here for the food."

Your heart skipped a beat, the playful atmosphere suddenly replaced with something more serious, more intimate. You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words, but not entirely sure where he was going with this.

"Gojo—" you started, but he interrupted you, his smile soft but knowing.

"Satoru," he corrected, his voice low. "You don’t have to keep calling me ‘sensei’ anymore. We’re not at Jujutsu High."

The air between you felt thick, the casual banter from earlier now giving way to something deeper. You swallowed, feeling the tension rise, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was something else. Something electric.

"Satoru," you said again, his name feeling intimate, like something shared in confidence. The moment stretched between you, and the air in the room felt thicker, almost charged. You hadn’t meant for it to get this way, not when you invited him to catch up. Yet here you were, the easy banter slipping into something else, something unfamiliar but undeniably tempting.

He didn't reply right away. Instead, he watched you, his gaze steady and intense, no teasing grin, no playful smirk—just focus. His eyes, no longer hidden behind a blindfold, had that same vibrant blue intensity, and they seemed to soften the longer he looked at you. He leaned back in his chair slightly, one hand lazily resting on the table as if he had all the time in the world, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

You felt your pulse quicken, but the warmth that settled over you wasn’t just nerves—it was anticipation. The distance between you both felt almost too large now, despite being seated so close. A quiet hum of energy flowed between you, drawing you in, but neither of you was rushing to fill the silence.

Satoru’s voice broke through the quiet, low and unhurried. "You know… it’s been a while since I’ve had a dinner like this. Just us. No missions. No students. No chaos." His tone was lazy, like the way he stretched his words was deliberate, savoring each one.

You felt your body relax into the atmosphere, your earlier tension dissolving as the two of you settled into this slower, lazier rhythm. You leaned back in your chair, mimicking his posture, allowing your foot to nudge against his under the table, just lightly. You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but the casual touch felt like a gentle acknowledgment of the shift between you. Something more intimate, something more *present* was settling in.

Satoru glanced down at the small contact, the corners of his mouth twitching into a soft smile—different from his usual grin. It felt… private. "Careful," he said, his voice dropping a little lower, "or I’ll start thinking you’re trying to make a move on me."

You smiled back, feeling bolder in this new atmosphere. "And what if I am?"

There it was—a daring line neither of you had crossed before. The teasing had always been a part of your dynamic, but this? This was uncharted territory, and it sent a rush of excitement through you. You weren’t the same student he used to tease and fluster. You could hold your own now.

Satoru’s gaze flicked back to yours, his expression unreadable for a moment before he leaned forward slightly, his arms resting on the table again, closer now. The distance between you narrowed, and your foot was still resting lightly against his, the touch warm through the fabric of your soft socks.

His voice was quiet, but there was a deliberate slowness to his words. "Then maybe I should see where this goes."

The way he said it, lazy and inviting, made your heart race. You knew Satoru wasn’t one to shy away from anything, especially not when it came to these kinds of games. But this didn’t feel like a game anymore. The lazy, sexy atmosphere had shifted into something heavier, something more intimate and real.

Your breath hitched slightly as you watched him lean just a little closer. He wasn’t in any hurry. The tension simmered between you both, and it felt like he was savoring every second of it. His eyes never left yours, and the weight of his presence made the room feel warmer, smaller.

"I wasn’t expecting you to actually come," you admitted, your voice quieter now, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the delicate balance between you.

Satoru smiled, slow and lazy. "What can I say? I like to keep you on your toes."

You smirked, shaking your head slightly. "I’m starting to think you enjoy seeing me flustered."

He chuckled softly, the sound low and smooth, the kind that made the air feel heavier. "Maybe a little. But you’re not the same shy student anymore, are you? I have a feeling you can handle yourself now."

There was a deeper meaning to his words, and you felt it resonate through you. He was testing the waters, waiting to see how far you were willing to go.

Your heart raced, but this time, it wasn’t just nerves. It was a slow, delicious anticipation, like you were both slowly, lazily circling something inevitable. You leaned forward, closing the gap between you, your arms resting on the table now, much like his. The space between your faces felt almost too intimate, but neither of you pulled away.

"Maybe I can," you murmured, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.

Satoru’s gaze softened as his eyes traveled over your face, lingering on your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again. There was no rush, no urgency, but the tension between you hummed quietly, like something waiting to break free.

"You’ve got more confidence now," he said, his voice low and almost intimate. "I like it."

You smiled softly, your heart pounding in your chest. "Guess I had a good teacher."

He laughed quietly, the sound warm and teasing. "You might regret saying that."

For a moment, neither of you moved. The atmosphere between you was thick with anticipation, but it wasn’t the kind of tension that demanded immediate action. It was slow, deliberate, like you both wanted to savor the moment, to see where it would take you.

Then, without a word, Satoru reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours, his fingers warm and slightly rough. The touch was subtle but intimate, his thumb tracing a slow, lazy pattern across the back of your hand.

Your breath caught in your throat as you glanced down at the contact, your heart racing. It was such a simple gesture, but it sent a ripple of heat through you, settling low in your stomach. You didn’t pull away, and neither did he. Instead, you let the moment stretch between you, the lazy, sexy atmosphere deepening with each passing second.

Satoru’s thumb continued its slow, deliberate movements, and when you looked up at him again, his expression had softened. There was no teasing grin now, no cocky smirk. Just him, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse race.

"You’re not running away," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I’m not the same person I was, Satoru."

His gaze held yours, and for a moment, the playful banter disappeared completely, replaced by something far more intimate, far more real.

"No," he agreed, his voice quiet and serious. "You’re not."

And then, he stood up, moving around the table with a slow, deliberate grace that made your heart race. He stopped just in front of you, his tall frame towering over you as he leaned down, one hand resting on the back of your chair.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your breath catching as his face hovered just inches from yours. The tension between you was almost unbearable now, the lazy, slow atmosphere pulling you both into its gravity. You could feel the warmth of his body so close to yours, the space between you almost nonexistent.

Satoru’s hand moved from the chair to your chin, his touch gentle but firm as he tilted your face up to meet his. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, and your pulse quickened, your breath shallow as you waited, the air between you electric.

"You sure you can handle this?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing, though there was a seriousness behind his words, a quiet question.

You smiled softly, leaning into his touch, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. "I think I can."

Satoru’s lips curled into a slow, lazy smile, his eyes never leaving yours as he leaned in, the space between you disappearing entirely.

Satoru's thumb lingered on your lips for just a second longer, tracing the outline of your bottom lip with a feather-light touch. The gesture was slow, deliberate, and unhurried, as if he was savoring the moment just as much as you were. His face was close—so close you could feel the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. The lazy, electric atmosphere between you seemed to buzz, both of you aware of the unspoken tension but not rushing to cross any lines too quickly.

You could feel the weight of his hand on your chin, firm yet gentle, like he was giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. The space between you both was charged, like a silent dare to see who would push things further first.

"You’re not scared, are you?" Satoru asked, his voice low and teasing, yet there was a softness there, like he was genuinely curious about how far you were willing to go.

You met his eyes, those blue depths that held a thousand secrets, and felt a shiver run down your spine. Despite the playful nature of his words, there was something real simmering beneath them, something that felt new and exciting.

"Not scared," you replied softly, feeling a boldness rising inside you, your own voice taking on that same slow, lazy quality as the room around you. "Just… curious."

Satoru’s grin widened, just slightly, his gaze flickering between your eyes and lips. "Curious, huh?" His voice was almost a whisper now, and you could feel the weight of each word settle in the air between you, as if testing how far you were willing to explore this new territory.

"Mm-hmm," you murmured, leaning into the moment, into the tension that felt more like a game between the two of you. Your heart was racing, but the pace was slow, controlled, as though you were both allowing yourselves the space to figure out exactly where this was going. "Aren’t you?"

Satoru’s eyes gleamed with that familiar mischief, but this time, it was different—laced with something deeper, more curious. His hand shifted from your chin to cup the side of your face, his touch soft yet confident, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a way that made your skin tingle.

"Maybe," he said, his tone casual but heavy with meaning. "I’m always curious about what happens next."

You felt your breath catch as his thumb continued its slow, lazy path over your skin, drawing a line down to your jaw. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t a heated, desperate moment. Instead, it felt like the two of you were experimenting, testing the waters with each small touch, each slow breath.

The intimacy of it all settled over you like a warm blanket—soft, enveloping, but not overwhelming. You were both here, in this quiet, lazy bubble, just the two of you figuring things out one heartbeat at a time. His hand lingered, his fingers sliding back behind your ear, his touch sending a light thrill down your spine, making the room feel smaller, quieter, more intense.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You were aware of the way your breath had quickened slightly, the way your heart pounded beneath your skin, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It felt natural, like this slow dance of curiosity was meant to be drawn out.

Satoru leaned in just a little more, his lips now just a breath away from yours. His eyes never left yours, like he was gauging your reaction, giving you the space to decide what came next. You could feel the tension between you, lazy but buzzing, both of you savoring the slow build-up.

"You want to test the waters a bit more?" His words were playful, but his voice had dropped lower, his tone laced with something heavier, like he was offering you a choice.

You tilted your head just slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you whispered back, "Maybe."

His grin softened, and in that moment, he seemed to relax into the atmosphere fully, leaning in until his forehead gently brushed against yours. The simple contact sent a wave of warmth through you, and you found yourself leaning into him, letting the tension build lazily, neither of you in a rush to dive in too deep just yet.

Satoru’s hand slid down to your neck, his fingers trailing lightly across your skin, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in their wake. His touch was gentle, almost experimental, like he was testing your reactions with each small movement.

"Still curious?" he murmured, the soft, teasing words sending a shiver down your spine. His voice was low, intimate, and it felt like a quiet invitation to keep exploring this moment, this new space you were both creating together.

You smiled, leaning into the feeling of his hand on your skin, the slow, lazy heat between you building with every passing second. "More curious than ever."

His laugh was soft, rumbling against your skin, and you could feel the warmth of it, the way it settled into the air around you. The closeness between you was intoxicating, but neither of you felt the need to rush things.

His fingers continued their slow exploration, tracing the line of your collarbone, sending light shivers through your body. You let your eyes close for a moment, focusing on the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his presence so close to yours.

Then, you felt him shift slightly, and when you opened your eyes again, his lips were hovering just a breath away from yours. He didn’t move any closer, though—just stayed there, waiting, watching you with that same lazy, teasing grin that always seemed to make your heart race.

"You sure about this?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath warm against your lips.

You nodded, your own smile soft as you met his gaze. "Yeah, I’m sure."

And then, slowly, deliberately, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips softly against his.

The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, like the two of you were still testing the waters, still figuring out how to navigate this new territory. But it wasn’t hesitant—it was curious, exploratory, as though you were both enjoying the slow, lazy build-up just as much as the kiss itself.

Satoru’s hand slid up to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer, but still keeping the pace slow, deliberate. His lips moved against yours in a way that made your skin tingle, every small movement sending ripples of warmth through you.

You could feel him smile against your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile back, the intimacy of the moment deepening as you both relaxed into the kiss, letting the curiosity between you take the lead.

Neither of you was in a hurry. The kiss stayed soft, exploratory, as though you were both savoring each second, each small movement, letting the lazy, intimate atmosphere guide you.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing a little heavier, but still wrapped in that quiet, comfortable space you’d created together.

"Well," Satoru said, his voice still low and teasing, "I think I like this kind of curiosity."

You laughed softly, feeling the warmth of the moment settle over you, content in the knowledge that you had all the time in the world to keep exploring where this would take you. "Me too."

You push back your chair and stand slowly, the wooden legs scraping softly against the floor. Satoru steps back to give you space, his expression shifting from that lazy smirk to something more thoughtful, more curious, as he watches your movements closely. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, but there’s no rush in the air between you—just that same slow, deliberate energy humming beneath the surface.

With a subtle flick of your wrist, your cursed energy ripples through the room, and the overhead lights dim, casting a soft, intimate glow around you both. The warm light now barely illuminates the space, creating shadows that stretch lazily across the room, giving everything a deeper, more intimate feel.

Satoru watches with an amused but impressed look, his eyes tracking the subtle shift in the atmosphere. His smile returns, a little softer now, more curious than before. "Setting the mood, huh?" he teases, but there’s no bite in his words, just a low, lazy murmur.

You turn to face him, your heart still beating steadily, though now there’s an air of playfulness in the way you move, more sure of yourself than before. "Well," you say with a small smile, "I figured we might as well make it comfortable, right?"

Satoru chuckles under his breath, stepping closer, the soft shadows playing over his features as he tilts his head slightly. "Comfortable, huh? Is that what you’re going for?" His tone is light, teasing, but there’s a softness to it, like he’s intrigued by this new side of you. He lets his gaze drift around the room, as if taking in the subtle change in atmosphere, before his eyes find yours again.

You feel the air between you shift even more as you close the small distance, the glow of the dimmed lights making everything feel warmer, more intimate. The shadows accentuate the way Satoru’s silver hair catches the light, the lines of his features more pronounced in the low light.

Satoru’s hands rest loosely at his sides, his posture relaxed but alert, as if waiting for your next move. He doesn’t rush in, doesn’t make a move to close the gap this time. Instead, he watches you, those bright blue eyes peering at you with a kind of lazy curiosity, letting you take control of the moment.

You take a step closer, standing just a breath away now, the soft hum of tension between you growing in the dimmed light. Your hands hover just in front of him, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric of his jacket, testing the waters, watching for his reaction.

He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in just a fraction, his body language open, relaxed, and welcoming. His gaze remains fixed on yours, and though his smirk is still there, it’s tempered by something more sincere, something more curious.

"Is this part of your technique?" he asks softly, his voice low and smooth, teasing but with a hint of genuine interest. "Or are you just trying to distract me?"

You laugh quietly, your fingers trailing lightly up the lapel of his jacket before resting on his chest. "Maybe a bit of both," you reply, your voice soft but confident.

Satoru chuckles again, his breath warm against your skin as he leans in slightly, his hands finally coming up to rest gently on your waist, the touch lazy and casual but firm enough to let you know he’s fully present in this moment. His thumbs brush idly over your sides, and the simple contact sends a ripple of warmth through you, making the room feel even smaller, even more intimate.

"Seems like I’m not the only one who likes to play games," he murmurs, his voice dropping even lower, his lips just a breath away from your temple.

You feel a smile tug at your lips as you lean into the warmth of his touch, your hands resting lightly against his chest. "Maybe I’ve learned a thing or two from the best," you say, your tone equally playful but laced with something deeper, something genuine.

The quiet between you thickens as you stand there, the soft light casting shadows across your bodies, the energy between you lazy but charged with a sense of anticipation. Satoru’s grip on your waist tightens just slightly, his fingers pressing into your sides as he pulls you closer, the space between you all but disappearing.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your temple in a feather-light touch before trailing down toward your ear, his voice a low, lazy murmur. "You really have grown up, haven’t you?" There’s a playful edge to his words, but it’s softened by the intimacy of the moment, by the way his hands move gently over your body, exploring without rushing, without demanding.

Your hands slide up to his shoulders, fingers curling lightly around the fabric of his jacket, holding him close but not pulling him in too tight.

"You don’t seem too surprised," you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur as you rest your forehead lightly against his, the proximity making every small movement feel amplified.

Satoru’s lips curve into a lazy smile, his fingers brushing gently up and down your sides. "I think I’ve always known there was more to you than you let on."

His words are soft but laced with meaning, and they hang in the air between you, thickening the atmosphere even more. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, the curiosity in his eyes as he watches your reactions, as if savoring each small shift in the energy between you.

You smile softly, your fingers playing with the fabric of his jacket as you let the moment stretch, the slow, intimate dance between you building with each passing second. "Maybe I was just waiting for the right moment."

Satoru hums softly, his hands sliding up your back now, his touch slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the feel of you beneath his fingertips. "Seems like now’s as good a time as any."

You can’t help but smile at the way his words settle over you, at the lazy, curious pace you’ve both set, like there’s no rush to figure everything out right away. The air between you is thick with anticipation, but it’s the slow kind, the kind that simmers and builds, neither of you in any hurry to rush the moment.

You lean in just a little closer, your lips brushing against the corner of his mouth as you whisper, "Maybe it is."

The soft brush of your lips against the corner of his mouth lingers in the air, and you can feel the slight tension in Satoru’s body as he absorbs the moment. His hands on your waist tighten, just barely, as if anchoring you both in the lazy intimacy of the dimmed room. His breath catches for a second, and you sense the shift as curiosity gives way to something deeper, something far more intentional.

Satoru leans in, his lips barely grazing yours again, but this time, the hesitation dissolves. There’s no more teasing, no more waiting. The playful back and forth that had lingered between you shifts into a new rhythm, one filled with heat and slow, deliberate intent. His lips press fully against yours now, soft but firm, and you feel the warmth of him, the depth of the moment drawing you in.

The kiss is slow at first, lazy like everything else about this evening. Neither of you rushes it. You savor the feel of his lips moving against yours, the softness of his touch at your waist pulling you just a little closer until your bodies are fully pressed together. It’s like you’re both tasting the moment, letting it unfold naturally, as if the kiss has been building for longer than either of you realized.

Satoru’s hands slide up your back, the warmth of his palms seeping through the fabric of your shirt as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head just slightly to the side to get closer, to feel more of you. His mouth moves against yours in a slow, languid dance, as though he’s content to take his time, exploring each second, each shift in the way your lips meet. His fingers curl into the material of your shirt, gripping just enough to hold you in place, but not with any force—just enough to keep you tethered to him.

You respond in kind, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer still, your lips parting slightly to allow him deeper access. The kiss remains slow, unhurried, but with each passing second, the intensity builds. His tongue traces the edge of your lips before slipping between them, the warmth of him flooding your senses as you lose yourself in the sensation. The room around you seems to disappear, the dim lights and soft shadows fading into the background as the kiss becomes the center of everything.

Your fingers thread into the soft strands of his hair, pulling gently, and you feel a low hum rumble in his chest in response. It sends a shiver down your spine, the sound of his contentment deepening the connection between you both. There’s a sense of playfulness still, but it’s mingled with something deeper, more real. The curiosity you both had about what might happen has been replaced with a quiet certainty—this is happening, and neither of you wants it to stop.

The kiss grows deeper, more insistent, but it never loses that lazy, slow rhythm you’ve both settled into. It’s as if you’re both savoring every second, every brush of lips and hands, letting the moment stretch as long as possible without rushing into anything too fast.

You tilt your head, responding to the way his mouth moves against yours, your body molding against his as you press closer, feeling the heat radiate from him. His scent, his presence, his touch—all of it overwhelms your senses, drowning out everything else but the two of you standing here, exploring this new territory with slow, deliberate care.

His hands tighten on your hips as the kiss deepens further, his tongue brushing against yours in a lazy, teasing way that makes your knees weaken just slightly. It’s like he’s tasting you, savoring the way your bodies move together, your breath mingling with his in the soft quiet of the room.

Finally, when the need for air becomes undeniable, you pull back just slightly, your lips still grazing his as you both catch your breath. The air between you feels charged, the soft hum of tension still simmering but not quite boiling over. You can feel the heat between your bodies, the way your breaths are still shallow, mingling in the small space between you.

Satoru’s forehead rests gently against yours, his breath warm against your lips, and you can feel the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. His hands remain at your hips, keeping you close, and though the kiss has ended for now, the connection between you hasn’t weakened.

His voice is low, almost a murmur, as he speaks against your lips. "That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I came here tonight," he says, his tone teasing but soft, like he’s letting you in on a secret.

You smile, your fingers still tangled in his hair as you gently pull back just enough to look into his eyes. "What did you have in mind then?" you ask, your voice equally soft, your breath still shaky from the kiss.

Satoru chuckles, his thumb brushing lightly against your side. "Honestly? I don’t know anymore." There’s a softness in his gaze now, something far more genuine than the playful smirk he usually wears. "But I think I like where this is going."

You smile, feeling the warmth of his hands still resting on your hips, the way his body remains so close to yours. The lazy, intimate energy that had been simmering between you all night has deepened, but there’s no rush to push things further just yet. You both seem content to let this moment stretch, to keep testing the waters and seeing where it leads.

You pull back just slightly, your hands still resting on his shoulders as you tilt your head, giving him a teasing look. "So, you’re not regretting showing up unannounced?"

Satoru grins, his eyes glinting in the dim light as he shakes his head. "Regret? Nah, not my style."

You laugh softly, leaning into the warmth of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. "Good," you murmur, your voice soft but playful. "Because I wasn’t exactly planning on this either… but I’m not complaining."

"I like this side of you," he says quietly, his voice low, the teasing edge tempered by something softer, more sincere. "The confidence, the way you take control. It's different."

You meet his gaze, your own smile growing as you feel the weight of his words settle between you. "Maybe you bring it out of me," you reply, your tone matching his, slow and curious.

Satoru’s grin softens into something warmer, more intimate. "Maybe I do." His hand moves to cup your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your skin in a tender, lingering caress. "And maybe… we should see where this goes."

The question hangs in the air between you, but there’s no pressure, no rush. It’s an invitation, a gentle promise that you both have all the time in the world to explore whatever this is, at your own pace.

You smile, leaning into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, and you nod, your voice barely above a whisper as you say, "Yeah. Let’s see where this goes."

The night had stretched on, a slow, lazy rhythm that matched the soft hum of energy between you and Satoru. What began with teasing touches and lingering kisses had transitioned into something deeper, more intimate. The dim light, the quiet, the way the air seemed to hold only the two of you—it all added to the steady, unhurried exploration of each other. You could still feel the warmth of his hands on your skin, the soft brush of his lips on yours, the quiet laughter shared between more tender moments.

The details of the night blurred together, wrapped in the haze of half-whispered words and languid touches. The way he had pulled you closer, bodies fitting perfectly against one another as though you'd known each other in this way far longer than just one night. The warmth of his breath at your ear as he murmured something teasing, something that made your heart flutter and your skin tingle with anticipation. You had let yourself sink into the moment, the feeling of being wrapped up in him, of giving and receiving in a slow, steady rhythm.

And then the stillness afterward—the quiet between you as you lay together, breath steady, heartbeats calming. His arm had draped lazily over your waist, and your head had found a place on his chest, rising and falling with the rhythm of his breathing. There were no words, no need for explanations. The night had unfolded in a way that felt natural, as though it was meant to be.

Now, the morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. The air was still quiet, the city sounds outside muted and distant. You stirred slightly, feeling the sheets cool against your skin as you shifted. A soft hum escaped your lips as you blinked your eyes open, the remnants of sleep clinging to you.

Satoru was still beside you, lying on his back, one arm loosely thrown over his head, the other resting gently at his side. His silver hair caught the morning light, messy from sleep but somehow still perfect in that infuriatingly effortless way of his. His sunglasses were nowhere to be seen, and his eyes—those brilliant blue eyes—were closed, his expression soft and peaceful in the early light.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him like this, the usual confidence and cocky demeanor replaced with something more relaxed, more real. For a moment, you just watched him, the memory of the night before still fresh in your mind, the warmth of it settling over you like a blanket. It felt like a secret shared between the two of you, something just for you to hold onto.

Carefully, you shifted, slipping out of bed as quietly as you could, not wanting to disturb him just yet. The cool floor against your feet grounded you, bringing you fully into the present as you padded softly across the room. You found one of his shirts—something he must’ve discarded at some point in the night—and pulled it over your head, the fabric soft and warm, carrying the faint scent of him.

The room felt different in the morning light, the soft shadows from last night replaced with a golden glow. Everything felt quieter now, the intimacy of the night lingering in the air. You moved to the window, pulling the curtains back just slightly to let more light in, the city below beginning to wake up, though the world inside your room still felt like it was suspended in its own private moment.

Behind you, you heard the soft rustle of sheets, and when you turned back, Satoru had stirred. His eyes fluttered open, blinking against the light, and he stretched lazily, a small grin spreading across his face when he saw you standing there.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep but laced with that familiar teasing tone.

"Morning," you replied softly, leaning against the window frame, your smile mirroring his.

Satoru propped himself up on one elbow, the sheets pooling around his waist as he gave you a once-over, his grin widening when he noticed you wearing his shirt. "Looks good on you," he said, his voice still carrying that lazy, slow rhythm from the night before.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Thought I’d steal it," you teased.

"By all means," he replied with a chuckle, stretching his arms above his head in a slow, languid motion, the muscles in his chest and shoulders shifting under the morning light. "It’s a good look."

There was something so easy about this moment—no awkwardness, no rush to define anything. Just the two of you, the intimacy of the night still hanging between you, soft and unspoken. Satoru leaned back against the headboard, his eyes lazily tracing your movements as you crossed the room, coming back toward the bed.

"You sleep okay?" you asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed, feeling the warmth of his body next to you even through the thin layer of sheets.

"Like a baby," he murmured, his grin softening as he reached out, his hand finding your knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You?"

You nodded, your smile growing as you thought back to the comfort of falling asleep next to him, the quiet after the slow, intimate dance you'd shared. "Better than I have in a while."

Satoru’s fingers trailed lazily up your thigh, his touch warm and unhurried, just like everything else about this morning. He seemed content to take his time, to let the quiet intimacy between you both linger in the air. His eyes held yours, a slow, knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Good," he murmured, his voice low and smooth, still carrying that lazy, teasing quality from the night before. "Though I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance if you’re up for it."

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you nudged him playfully. "You never change, do you?"

His grin widened, and he gave a small shrug, his hand sliding down your leg before coming to rest on the bed beside him. "What can I say? I’m consistent."

The lightness in his voice made you smile, and you leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against his lips before pulling back and standing again. "Let’s start with coffee first, shall we?"

Satoru let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back onto the bed with an exaggerated groan. "Fine. But only because you make it sound tempting."

As you moved toward the small kitchenette, you could still feel the warmth of his gaze on you, his presence filling the room even in the quiet of the morning. The night before had been unexpected, yes—but somehow, it felt like the natural progression of whatever had been brewing between you for so long. And as the morning stretched on, with the scent of coffee beginning to fill the air, you couldn’t help but feel like this was only the beginning of something even more exciting.

Something worth exploring.

notes: i'm so sorry this is this long - but i had to keep writing uahdsuhudsh

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[uglypastels]

Your Logan fics have been great. I enjoy your style and how you write him. It’s so so good.

I had an idea while reading the brainwashed reader one:

Logan is on a mission to a bunker or lab or something for the X-men. Charles requested told him he had to go and help Scott. They go to this bunker and it ends up being a rescue for some mutants that were being experimented on and one of them once back at the mansion is having issues with controlling their power, and Charles asks Logan to help them. I picture the power being very volatile so Logan is there to help because he can take a hit and heal from it. Cause the reader is too scared to use the power on anyone and Charles told them he had the perfect teacher.

thank you so much!!

shoutout to @deceptive-daydreams for helping me come up with the details of this thing. had a lot of fun, as always, writing this request, so please keep em coming yall.

warnings: implied PTSD. platonic teacher/student dynamic. fire. explosions. swearing. anxiety. lots of banter and fluff.

Masterlist ~ X-Men Requests are Open

It had been two weeks since you had moved into the Mansion. Moved in. That’s all that you could bring yourself to call it, doing your best to not think about anything up to the moment that you had been ushered inside the large building and given a room to stay in for as long as you pleased. It had taken at least three days for you to actually get out of there, to let yourself roam the halls freely, reminding yourself that it was safe. 

For you, at least. No one would harm you here.

But not the same could be said about the rest.  

You had never been fully capable of controlling your powers, feeling more like they controlled you instead. When you were held captive, it was them who held power over both. But now that you were free, it was time for things to change. That much had been clear from the second you set foot in the mansion.

Professor Xavier had given you permission to make use of the Danger Room to train as long as you were under the supervision of one of the faculty members—something that should have given you comfort but instead only formed more anxieties.

‘I don’t want to hurt anyone,’ you confessed.

‘You can’t do this on your own,’ the Professor smiled softly. ‘As with any skill, a fine mentor is the first step to succeeding.’

You weren’t sure about that, but also knew that alone, you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere anyway. 

‘Don’t worry,’ the Professor read your mind. ‘I have just the teacher for you.’

⮿

You had recognised Logan as the man who had helped you escape. Who held your hand and hadn’t let go until you stopped shaking. Who gave you soft reassuring smiles whenever you saw eachother across the corridors, reminding you that were alright here.

You knew he was a skilled fighter, but, truthfully, you had not expected him to be the one Professor Xavier assigned as your supervisor in this training endeavour.

‘Show me what you got, kid.’ He said as he took off his leather jacket, and you immediately wish he hadn’t.

‘It’s probably better to keep it on.’ You stated, wincing at his exposed skin. He looked up at you, taking a moment to comprehend what you meant until the nickel fell with recognition.

‘Right.’ He put the jacket back on and leaned against the wall as you watched him expectantly for further instructions. ‘So, what do you do?’

‘You know what I do.’ You couldn’t help but laugh at the question.

‘Explain it to me again.’ He shrugged.

‘Well… I set things on fire.’ The words came out apprehensively.

‘No. I said, explain it to me. Dumb it down like I was a five year old.’ This felt ironically hard to do as you felt like he knew more about your power at this moment than you ever had.

‘I don’t understand—’

‘To be able to control your abilities, you got to understand it.’ Logan clarified. ‘Know what it is that you’re actually doing and you’ll know what to do to keep it contained.’

Yeah, if put like that, it made sense. It also sounded far easier than it was. Understand it, and you’ll be able to control it. Sure. You thought for a moment, back to school and the damn chemistry classes you hated, but now suddenly started to feel rather useful. ‘I uhh… manipulate atoms, rearranging them with the air and heat around them to cause objects to catch a flame.’

‘That’s more like it.’ He praised, and even though it barely meant anything, you felt yourself smile at the kind words. ‘How much have you got it under control?’ But then the question and his inquisitive glare down at you made you feel very aware of your body and your mind.

‘With uhm— with enough concentration I mostly I target the right object, but once the fire is up, I can’t contain it.’ Which was the most important part. If uncontained, the fire would just spread, destroying everything in its way. That much you already knew. You still woke up screaming from the memories of the radiant flames and screaming all around you.

‘And, nothing personal, but I gotta ask, controlling the fire also falls under your division?’ He had crossed his arms.

‘Uhm…’ you didn’t know how to respond to that. 

‘Only asking because we had this kid Jonny who could control fire, but he needed a spark to start it. Maybe you two are two sides of the same coin?’

‘No, I have managed it before. But never long. It would go up and down and up again, the way I wanted it to, but it was exhausting and then I couldn’t handle it and it would all go  to shit.’ You started rambling, and just like the fires, you couldn’t get yourself to stop.

‘Alright, alright.’ Logan spoke calmly. ‘First thing we gotta do is work on you.’

You blinked slowly.

‘It’s all the same with you elemental kind. It’s all in your head. If you can’t get your emotions under control, then the fire will never go out.’

‘That… makes sense.’ You took a deep breath and thought of all things sweet and soft and calm.

‘Alright, I haven’t got all day.’ He clapped his hands, and you tried to not let the loud sound get to you. 

Let the games begin. 

⮿

A few weeks went by, and you wish you could have said you were making progress. 

No, you had to be kinder to yourself. There was progress. It just wasn’t at the pace you had hoped to reach at this point. Logan had helped you with your targeting, and you could proudly say that you had reached an estimated 98% accuracy score. The larger objects you had no problem with, but the smaller and the further away things were, the more you seemed to struggle. Which was perfectly fine, Logan reminded you.

‘You expect to be able to hit a bullseye in the dark from a hundred yards away?’ 

‘I’m sure some people could,’ you mumbled, frustrated as you watched the wrong matchbox in the near line of 4 burn to a pile of ashes.

‘Beating yourself up about it is not gonna help you, kid.’ Logan said, already replacing the box with a new one. ‘Again.’

Knowing that complaining about his training methods would not help either, you simply squinted and focused on the third matchbox, doing your best to ignore the other ones lying around. They simply did not exist. All there was, was this one stupid matchbox— whoosh, and suddenly, the box was no more, just a pilar of blue flames. In your excitement at having finally hit your target, you had completely forgotten to keep the fire down. 

‘Shit, shit, sorry.’ You did your best to suppress it, but it seemed like the fire was in a funny mood today and decided to do the exact opposite of your demands as it grew by the second until Logan had no choice but to drench it with a bucket of water. 

⮿

‘Have you gone mad?’ You stared blankly up at Logan, who–much too confidently, in your opinion– positioned himself a few paces ahead of you. A cigar in hand. 

‘It’s clear that you need some incentive.’

‘I don’t think your death wish can be called that.’ You protested. ‘I’m not doing it.’ ‘Yeah you are.’ He simply said. ‘I’m the teacher. I’m telling you to light the damn thing, so get on with it,’ he growled as he put the cigar between his teeth.

‘Actually insane.’ You said to yourself. ‘There is no way this is going to end well.’

‘Focus sweetheart.’ He did his best to look calm and composed, but you saw how his shoulders tensed as you prepared to do the task. There was so much more you wanted to say to him, but you just had to block it out. All of him had to cease to exist. All you saw was the tip of the cigar. The tiniest layer of tobacco, the–

You shrieked as Logan’s face disappeared behind a cloud of black smoke as the cylinder in his mouth exploded. 

‘Oh my god, Logan!’ You ran to him, relieved as you heard him cough. With the smoke gone, you were happy to realise that it had only been the cigar that had exploded, leaving behind the tiniest but right where Logan had held it in his mouth. The rest of it combusted all around him. ‘Are you alright?’ 

His entire face was black with soot. You watched him wipe it off his eyes, blinking sporadically, clearly dazed from the explosion. You edged to repeat your question of concern, but before you had the chance to, Logan held a thumb up, spit the bud of the cigar out, and coughed out another thick cloud of smoke. 

‘All’s good, bub.’ And you would have believed him if not for the fact he sounded like a cat that had just been suffocated, his burnt throat squeaking out the vibrations of his voice. ‘Let’s try—’ he was about to suggest another exorcise before he erupted in another coughing fit. 

Easy to say you had called it a day after that.

⮿

‘Alright, easy now.’ Logan directed you. 

‘I know what I’m doing, Lo.’ You retorted. All day long, he had been just non-stop talking, making it very hard for you to focus on the job at hand.

‘Do you?’ He quipped, making you glare back at him just long enough for the fire to double in size. You cursed as you held it back down—at least, that’s something you were able to do now. 

‘You got to focus.’ He came over to you as you put the fire out completely.

‘Well, stop distracting me.’ 

‘That’s easy enough here, but what do you think out there’s gonna be like?’ He cocked his head at the walls, indicating the outside world, where indeed, there were distractions aplenty. ‘No one’s gonna give you time to do your breathing exercises in the real world, kid.’

‘Then why give them to me in the first place?’

‘I’m not the one you want to fight,’ was all he said in response. It had been months, and by now, he knew all there was to know about you in the learning environment. He knew how to push your buttons, fire you up and hose you back down. He could tell what you were thinking and it was infuriating that you could not figure out the same about him.

But, suppose that’s what made him the teacher and you the student.

‘Sorry,’ you sighed, letting yourself fall onto the ground, pulling your knees up to your chin. ‘It’s just so frustrating. We’ve been here for months and—’

‘And we’ll stay here for months more if that’s what you need to improve yourself.’ He squatted beside you. ‘You got this. No need to give up now. Or else my time here’s really been a waste, and I don’t take to that too kindly.’ He gave you that smile that once had only been reserved for quick passes in the hallway but now had become the favourite part of your nearly daily training sessions.

‘Sorry,’ you laughed. 

‘Don’t be.’ He got up, extending his hand as leverage as you got back onto your feet as well. ‘Think you got one more in you for today?’

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

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[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 4.4k words

warnings: explicit language, angst, mentions of reader’s strained relationship with her parents

summary: the first night in mexico with steve is not as weird as you thought it would be, but it’s hard to avoid thinking about everything that happened with eddie

CHAPTER TWELVE | ❝𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖❞

Fall Semester 2016

You figured that the first night was weird because the first night in a new place was usually always weird.

But then the next two nights were somehow worse. Alone in a room that you were slowly starting to wonder if it would ever feel like “home.”

You sat in your bed and stared up at the ceiling for what felt like hours, but when you looked at your phone, you saw that only twenty minutes had passed since the last time you’d checked it. An annoyed sigh left your lips as you closed your eyes again, willing sleep to come. 

Unsurprisingly, after another few minutes, it didn’t, and that made you grab your phone and call the one person that you wanted to talk to at that moment. 

When Eddie answered with a soft and tired “Hi,” you asked, “Hey, are you busy right now?”

“At one in the morning? Not really, no.” When you didn’t laugh at his joke, he became serious. “You okay?” 

“This is probably dumb and I already feel that way for asking this, but can you come over?”

“Yeah, of course,” He didn’t hesitate to answer and then things got quiet for a second before he asked again. “You okay?”

“I’ll explain when you get here,” You said, not wanting to go on what you felt like would be a neverending ramble about your current thoughts over the phone. “You can even take the bed if you want. I’ll sleep on the floor. Doesn’t matter to me.” 

“I’m not gonna kick you out of your bed,” You could practically hear him shaking his head at your offer. “I’ll be there in ten.”

He actually made it in five minutes and you were greeting him with a small smile and a promise to give him as many blankets as he needed to be comfortable on the floor when you opened your door. 

“So, what made you wanna do this impromptu sleepover?” Eddie asked once he was settled and you were back in your bed. You knew what the lighthearted question was really saying, What’s wrong? 

“I feel dumb because I should’ve known that this was gonna happen,” You said, starting your answer in the middle because you knew that he’d catch on immediately. “We both know how I am when things are too quiet. But, after my roommate situation last year, I thought this single dorm thing would be better. But, actually, it sucks. Now, I weirdly miss the nights where I had to fall asleep to the sound of her talking on the phone.”

“You’ll get used to this,” He said, but you weren’t entirely sure if that was possible. You did appreciate how encouraging he sounded, though. “Hey, do you want this old TV that my uncle’s been meaning to get rid of? It’s just sitting in my room back home collecting dust right now. You can leave it on all night and it’ll probably make it easier to sleep.”

“Shit, that makes so much sense,” You said. It was the easiest fix and you were now realizing that it probably should’ve hit you before.

“We can get it this weekend,” Eddie told you. “I’ll even give you the old VHS tapes I used to play on it all the time. Lots of horror movies.” 

You let out a quiet laugh. “I don’t know if falling asleep to Friday the 13th or Halloween every night is the greatest idea.” 

“Okay, yeah, makes sense. There are also some cartoons.”

You smiled then. “Now that sounds great. I get to find out what cartoons Eddie Munson loved as a kid.” 

He laughed. “It was a lot of things that were just weird knockoffs of Barney because that’s all my uncle would buy.” 

“That sounds very cute,” You said, still smiling. “Thank you, though. Seriously. And thank you for being here right now too.” 

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

Not even with Chrissy? You wanted to ask that, but you didn’t because you had a feeling what his answer would be and you didn’t want to make things weird or awkward. 

So, instead, you said, “Thank you for ruining your back for me.” You shifted a bit, turning on your side toward him. “We can still switch if you want. I’m fine with taking the floor.”

“Not gonna happen,” He told you and you decided against once again trying to convince him otherwise.

.・。.・��✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

There was a mourning period that came and went. And it didn’t even feel that overdramatic to call it that. 

Stupidly, you expected to wake up the day after the moment you had with Eddie at his apartment and be completely over him— because you now knew that he’d never see you as anything other than as his best friend. There was no point in having even a little bit of hope for something equivalent to “a fairytale ending,” so you expected every other part of you to understand that too. But, apparently, an almost three-year-long crush couldn’t end that easily.

A part of you felt like you were back to Freshman year— pretending that everything was fine and normal. When, in reality, nothing was fine, and instead your life now felt like you were stuck in a really bad movie or nightmare. 

You didn’t just feel hurt by the rejection— which technically wasn’t an outward rejection, but it felt just the same— you also felt embarrassed about everything you’d done over the past month. Even when days passed and the hurt faded into a wholehearted acceptance that still also felt a little sad, everything else stayed. 

Steve was the only person that you could possibly admit any of this to since he was a part of the whole fake dating thing. You could tell him that it all ended up being an entire waste of time for you. However, somehow the thought of telling him only made you feel even more embarrassed. 

He was so settled on the idea that this would work for you, and he continued doing things in hopes of making something happen over the last few days. It all felt so wrong now, but you simply pretended that it didn’t because you found it too hard to be honest.

You instead actively forced yourself to stop thinking about how everything had changed and how you were the only one who was aware of that fact. And it actually wasn’t the hardest thing to do. Except on the nights when it seemed as if there was nothing to do but think. 

It was usually easy to drown out your thoughts with the sounds of whatever was happening within your apartment, but the circumstances were different at this moment since you weren’t in your room or the apartment at all. Instead, you were in a different country in a random bed with Steve sleeping right next to you. 

You’d been exhausted after the flight and the hour drive to the fancy resort, but once you were actually settled in the huge bed that barely filled out the even bigger room, you couldn’t seem to sleep. Neither you nor Steve had been able to figure out the TV, you couldn’t even find the remote, but you figured that was fine because you thought you’d fall asleep easily. Clearly, you were wrong, though. And you now couldn’t stand to lay in the silence anymore.

You slowly pulled the blanket off of you and got out of your side of the bed— the left had been designated as yours and the right was Steve’s. The bed was also big enough that you had declined his earlier offer about putting a sort of pillow divider to make things more comfortable for you. In your head, sharing a bed with him probably wouldn’t end up being the weirdest part of this trip. 

You maneuvered pretty well in the dark. Finding your sneakers that sat by your already haphazardly picked through suitcase and slipping them on, and then grabbing your phone and room key off of the nightstand and slipping both into the small pocket of the pajama shorts you were wearing. 

It would’ve been easier if you just left without saying anything to Steve because you’d probably be back before he could even notice that you’d been gone. But, for some reason, it didn’t feel entirely right to do that.

“Hey,” You whispered as you stepped a little closer to him. “Steve?”

His eyes didn’t open as he shifted a bit and let out a soft, “Hmm?”

“I’ll, um, I’ll be right back.”

“Where you going?” He asked, words quiet and slightly mumbled. 

“I can’t really sleep, so I think I’m gonna check out that twenty-four-hour buffet for a bit. The one that they mentioned when we were checking in.”

“Okay,” He said, eyes opening and he rubbed them for a second before pushing a quick hand through his hair and getting out of the bed. 

You shook your head at his actions. “You don’t have to come.”

“I know,” He said but kept moving, standing up and going to grab his sneakers. 

“You really don’t have to come,” You told him. “I already feel bad about waking you up.” 

“It’s the middle of the night, and Robin told me that if anything bad happens to you during this trip, she’ll kill me.” 

Hearing that made you laugh, and it didn’t entirely surprise you. “When did she say that?”

“Yesterday, when we were all watching TV at your place,” He answered as he grabbed his phone and pocketed it in his sweatpants. “It reminded me a lot of the game night conversation.”

“It also felt like The Godfather to you?” You asked, pulling open the door as he walked over to you. Abruptly going from the darkness in the room to the harsh and bright lighting in the hallway made you squint. 

“Yeah, it did,” Steve told you and then rubbed his eyes again. “Jesus, it’s really bright out here.”

“Please go back to sleep. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Wow, good to know that you want me to get murdered by your friend,” He joked. 

You smiled. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I promise I’ll protect you.”

He kept walking with you, though— heading down the hallway toward the elevators— instead of turning around and going back to the room. You wondered if Robin hadn’t playfully threatened him (in your head, the only way you could imagine it was playful) would he still be this adamant about being with you right then. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“Did we really come here just so you could get cereal?”

“I told you not to come,” You said as you picked around the dry bowl of Cheerios. “Also, nothing would have happened to me if I was alone right now. Unless you think that that drunk couple would’ve kidnapped me or something if you weren’t here.”

You gestured in the direction of said couple that were the only other people at this buffet aside from a few workers; they were sitting barely twenty feet away from you and Steve and looked as if they were in their entirely own world as they shared a bowl of ice cream. 

Both you and Steve abruptly looked away when they started passionately making out with each other. 

You let out a quiet laugh. “Wow.” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Steve started, grabbing a handful of cheerios from your bowl. “I don’t think kidnapping you would’ve been on either of their minds right now.”

You weren’t going to admit it, but you were actually glad that he stayed with you. Sitting at this random table with him in this near-empty room was a lot better than being alone with your thoughts. 

You suddenly wondered what time it was, but you also didn’t care enough to check your phone. “What time do we have to meet your parents in the morning?”

“They wanna get breakfast at eight,” He answered, and you nodded at that. “Apparently, they’re really excited to see you.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “Normally, I would think that’s a good thing, but is it in this case?”

Steve shrugged. “Yes and no. At this point, I think it’s just gonna be a lot more of interrogating you— them trying to see if you’re truly the “right person for me” and all that bullshit. Pretty much the same thing that happened at the dinner, but it’ll probably feel a little worse since we’re gonna be seeing them a lot for the next few days. But still, even if they didn’t like you, they wouldn’t tell me to break up with you or anything, they’re mainly just happy that I’m in something serious.”

You nodded again. “I know your parents can be super intense and overbearing, but in some weird way, I think it’s actually kinda nice that they, at least, care, I guess, about your “love life.” I sometimes wish mine did.”

Steve shook his head. “Yeah, but mine don’t actually care, though. They’re only so focused on my love life because they care about themselves and their image.”

Maybe that should’ve been obvious to you. Because hearing him say that, and when you thought about all of the other things that he had told you before about his parents, it made a lot of sense. “Okay, I fully take back my previous statement.” 

“What’s up with your parents, though? You never really talk about them,” Steve said. “How do they feel about you going on vacation with a guy you just met?”

You shrugged halfheartedly. “I don’t know how they feel about it because I kinda forgot to tell them. Well, not kinda, I did. I did forget to tell them about this.”

It had been the farthest thing from your mind. And deep down, you could even admit that you purposely pushed away the thought of telling them because you knew that they probably wouldn’t have cared that much about it, anyway. 

“Oh,” Steve said, and then things became quiet. You wondered how insane you probably sounded to him right then, or how fucked he must’ve thought your relationships with your parents were if you didn’t tell them about this. “Okay, so if I don’t end up getting murdered by Robin after this trip, it’ll definitely be your dad then.”

You were immediately grateful for his lighthearted comment. You could feel yourself inwardly sighing in relief. The tenseness— that was probably only firmly planted on your side of things— quickly washed away. “That would never happen, but if it did, I’ll once again protect you.”

“Thank you, that’s all I ask,” He joked, smiling at you.  

You were abruptly reaching over the table to fix his hair, there was a part of it that was sticking out weirdly— it was the bedhead, you figured. “Sorry, that was kinda bothering me. Anyway, this is very random and a complete one-eighty from what we were just talking about, but do you ever think about how different some things in your life would be, maybe even how better they would be, if certain things had ended up working out, or if they had ended up happening?” 

Maybe it was the slight sleep deprivation that made you ask that question— that felt like it was the only thing that could correctly explain the abruptness of it. A similar version of that slightly confusing question had also been the exact thing that you’d been wondering about barely thirty minutes ago before you refused to continue to sit in silence and in your thoughts about Eddie.

You were pretty certain what your answer to it was— a resounding yes; you thought about “what-ifs” a lot, probably too much.

A part of you expected Steve to ask why you were asking that question, but he didn’t. “In what way do you mean?” He asked instead.

“Romantically,” You didn’t hesitate to answer, and then you shook your head at yourself when you realized what you were saying. “Actually, that’s probably so dumb of me to ask you since you don’t care about relationships and all of that.” 

“I do think about it,” He told you. “Old relationships and stuff. What went wrong, what could’ve gone better…” He trailed off, letting out an awkward laugh and breaking your gaze. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, this is probably way too much for a middle-of-the-night conversation,” You said and realized just how true that was. You now wished that you had brought up some random lighthearted question about a movie or something.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve just never really talked about this before,” Steve said, and you were about to tell him that he didn’t have to talk about it now if he didn’t want to, but he continued before you could say anything. “Um, I think saying old relationships is a stretch, actually. I’ve mainly just thought a lot about the last one, I guess.”

The high school relationship that he had mentioned to you on Valentine’s Day, you remembered. It was the last serious one he’d been in. You wondered what it had been like, how equal parts amazing and devastating it must’ve been if it turned him off of relationships completely for the foreseeable future. 

“This question is probably so stupid, so please feel free to tell me exactly that, but do you ever miss her?” 

“Sometimes, sure, yeah. But, it never really happens that much anymore. And whenever I feel like I miss her now, I think it’s more of me just missing what we used to be instead of me really missing her specifically. Does that make sense?” He looked up at you then and you nodded. You honestly felt as if you understood him completely— missing the picture itself but not necessarily who was in it. 

It was that analogy that somehow made you realize something that you maybe should’ve realized earlier. Specifically, during the moment also on Valentine’s Day when you asked him why he didn’t do relationships and he pretty much said that he didn’t want to get his heart broken again. He was scared of it now, of love and relationships. It wasn’t just about it being easier not being in relationships and not falling for someone, it was about it being a scary fucking thing to do again. 

It honestly made a lot of sense. So much sense that you really didn’t understand why it didn’t hit you sooner. 

You didn’t say this to him, though, because it didn’t feel right to, and a part of you also really hoped that you were entirely wrong about it. Because this would shift everything that you thought you knew and understood about him. 

It would be a thousand times easier if you solely took everything that he previously said to you at face value. If your understanding of him and who he was and what he wanted was as simple as what he had told you that night outside the arcade and what he’d been telling you this entire past month. He didn’t want to get involved in anything serious for simply that exact reason— he didn’t want to.

You had only nodded in response to his “Does that make sense?” question and you knew that you probably should’ve said actual words, but you couldn’t think of what exactly to say right then. And then Steve was speaking again before you could figure something out.

“And I guess that’s when I kinda think about that question you asked— wondering about how different things would be if it all had actually worked out,” He said. You’d completely forgotten that that question had even started this conversation. “But, it’s kinda hopeless and dumb to think about it, though, right? Because the outcome can never change, so what’s the point of even wondering about it?” 

“Yeah, exactly,” You said softly, abruptly thinking about Eddie again. “What’s the point…” 

Steve looked at you for a second before giving you a small smile. “Why was that question on your mind at,” He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “One-thirteen in the morning?”

You suddenly felt really close to telling him what happened at Eddie’s place days ago, and the conclusion that you had come to about everything; the timing honestly felt pretty perfect. But, you still couldn’t do it.

It wasn’t about you feeling sad about the entire thing, it was about feeling stupid. And you honestly didn’t even think that Steve would judge you or think that you were stupid— he’d probably feel bad for you, you realized, which somehow felt a thousand times worse. 

“I don’t know… I’m always getting randomly existential in the middle of the night, I think,” You answered, and then immediately shifted the subject. “Hey, what’s the name of your cousin who’s getting married?” 

“Charlotte.”

“Okay, got it,” You nodded. “I felt like that was information I should probably know.” 

“And her fiance’s name is Charlie.”

A part of you wanted to laugh, but you held it back. “Woah.”

Steve nodded, also recognizing how slightly ridiculous that was. “Yeah. Once again, I’m sorry that I’m putting you through this whole thing.” 

You gave him a playful smile. “As long as you protect me from any weird family members, like I’m protecting you from Robin, I’ll be fine.” 

You remembered then that this fake dating thing wasn’t at all about you anymore, it was about him. And you quickly decided that you’d make sure to play the “happy and in love” girlfriend part really well— just like he had for you this past month— so that he could get what he needed out of this. Because, at this point, that was all that really mattered. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You gave Steve’s hand a quick squeeze. “Kiss me.”

“What?” 

“Your parents are looking over here. Just do like a quick peck thing,” You said, looking up at him. 

He didn’t question you further and instead closed the small bit of distance between you two and pressed his lips against yours. You weren’t sure if you expected it to feel weird or unnatural, but it didn’t. Actually, it happened so quickly that it really didn’t feel like anything at all.

When he pulled away, you gave him the sweetest smile that you hoped didn’t seem too exaggerated or fake, as you two continued walking toward his parents and a handful of his other family members. 

That would probably be the easiest part of the next few hours. Before you were forced to embark on a hike that you weren’t at all excited for, but Steve couldn’t get you two out of. It was during breakfast when his mom mentioned it and she was so adamant about making you and Steve come along too. 

“It’s gonna be fun. According to the tour guide, we’re going to get to see the prettiest view of a waterfall,” Anne had said and you finally nodded and agreed to go because you knew that she wasn’t going to take Steve’s attempts to say no as an answer.   

Now it was two hours after that forced yes and you were in an outfit that didn’t feel entirely great for a hike— denim shorts and a black tank top— but it was the best that you could do; you hadn’t prepared “hiking outfits,” or any sort of workout attire for that matter. And walking over to Steve’s parents and other family members, which he quickly whispered to you were a few of his cousins and aunt and uncle, and seeing them look a lot more prepared than you were, didn’t do much to ease your sudden out-of-place feelings. 

“We still have a few minutes before we have to leave, come to the gift shop with me,” Anne said to you before either you or Steve could say any sort of greeting to her and his dad.  

You gave her a small smile and let your hand drop from Steve’s. “Okay.” 

You met his eyes for the briefest second and he gave you an encouraging look, and then you were following his mom to the gift shop that was right next to the lobby. 

“How’s everything going?” Anne asked you as she started looking around the small shop, stopping at a shelf of ceramic mugs.

The question felt weirdly vague, but you still answered it as if you weren’t slightly confused. “It’s been good. Thank you again for everything. You really didn’t have to invite me to this whole thing.”

“Yes, of course, no problem. Tom and I are happy you’re here,” She smiled at you. “And we can tell that Steve is too.”

Inwardly, you waited for the shoe to drop. For her to suddenly come out and say that she and Tom actually hated you because you weren’t from “their world” and you hadn’t been handpicked by them. 

However, with what Steve reminded you about last night, you remembered that it wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about them liking or not liking you as a person, it was about them being happy that Steve was simply in a “serious relationship.” And all you and him had to do was show that.

“I’m glad that you guys approve of our relationship,” You said, looking away from the bracelet in your hand that cost way too much and made you realize that this gift shop was way too fancy. You met Anne’s eyes. “Steve was worried about that. It was why he waited so many months before telling you guys about us.”

“Well, it’s probably obvious that you’re not exactly who we would’ve chosen for him. We always wanted him to be with a certain type of girl from a specific kind of family, you know?” You nodded at her words because it felt like that was all there was to do. “But, maybe this is better for him; at least, for now. And it’s so easy to see that you make him happy— probably more than Nancy ever did all those years ago— so that’s great.” 

Nancy. Finally knowing her name made her feel more real to you. You still knew absolutely nothing about her, though, aside from the fact that she and Steve had been happy and in love at one point in time.  

You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to Anne’s words that felt like the kind of compliment that was actually more of an insult. It was almost funny because there it finally was, somewhat of a shoedrop. She really didn’t like you. 

But, clearly, the show you and Steve were putting on was working, and you were inwardly sighing in relief at that realization because that was all that mattered. Ultimately, you decided to simply smile at her. “Thank you. He makes me really happy too.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff

(if your user is crossed out it means i can’t tag you</3)

[hyukaboosgf]

can i req lee suho x fem!reader plspls

just a fic where he helps reader study (shes good at acedemics tapi yeah yk the feeling of bring dtupid allat)

and bro comforts her when she cries allat

this request is so cuteeewkwnaj

Heart to Heart!

Lee suho x fem!reader

playing: Heart to Heart by Mac DeMarco

summary: You were sitting alone at a table in a library, books and notes scattered all over the table. Lee suho who was in the library to return a book, saw your exhausted figure.

Warnings! : kind of angsty (not sure) but fluffy ending !

“move it kid!” the man behind Suho whispered yelled at him. “oh sorry” he responded in a small voice eyes still trained on you.

When Lee suho came into the library with the intention to return a book he borrowed, his eyes somewhat found your figure in the corner of the library. But this time you looked different..

And by different he meant you looked tired.

After he returned the book, he decided to walk up to you. When he came close, your head was still on the table with your arm surrounding it. His initial thought was that you were probably asleep. But unbeknownst to him, you were actually doing quite the opposite.

You weren’t just alone though, you were alone at a library at 8 pm. you should be at home right now unless you had a tutor to meet or atleast a friend to study with you!

After staring at your seemingly down figure for a short second, he decided to come up to you “hey y/n?” he said in a small voice. but you weren’t answering.

He tapped your shoulder with two fingers and that’s when you realised there was someone. Startled, you replied “Oh Suho!” shocked to see him on this hour at the library. But he had always been unpredictable.

“are you ok? why are you sleeping in the library?” he asked you in a polite tone. “Oh me? i was just studying for the mid term exam” you replied to him in a slow voice.

He wasn’t sure if it was his eyes or his heart telling him that you looked malnourished, but he sure knew you definitely needed a little help with studying, considering you looked a bit tired.

“do you need help?” he offered. You were shocked honestly, you never thought Suho who you barely even know, would want to study with you. “are you sure? don’t you need to go home at this hour?”

You didn’t really mind if he studied with you, it’s just that you didn’t want him to think you were stupid. That’s the last thing you’d want.

You were an Academic Achiever, but lately things has been a bit hard for you . Hence, why you think your not doing good like you used to. And everything has been going so wrong lately you just don’t have enough time to think about yourself today.

“No i’ll be fine, I haven’t studied this too and since your here might as well!” He lied, he actually already did study this, he just wanted to spend some time with you. And in a small voice you thanked him.

A few minutes had went by with him teaching you a few things here and there whenever you looked at your notes confused. To be honest, you were glad he was there.

“do you get it?” he asked as he turns to you for confirmation, but when he faced you fully he saw tears streaming down your eyes. Soft sniffles came out from your stuffy nose.

“A-are you ok??” he was worried and confused on why you cried, was it because of him? did he do something wrong? “is it me? did I do something?” Truth is it was never because of him.

You shook your head, a small “no” came from your lips. He was relieved but still confused on why you cried and before he could ask you, you answered his unspoken question.

“It’s just that..” you started “It’s just that i feel so stupid lately. It’s like that feeling when your failing the only thing your good at. Everyone around me is so much better than me i’m just scared that at some point i’ll be the idiot in the corner just taking up space.”

As he heard you out he also understood the way you were feeling. He didn’t know what to do, he had never felt this way before. But one thing he did know was that you needed him. You needed him to listen and hear you out. And so he did.

“I’m sorry i know i’m ranting but i just can’t hold it in any longer.” was the last thing you said before you laid down your head on the table with your arms surrounding it.

After you had calmed down a bit, Suho got up and went behind your chair to hug you. He didn’t know what to say, but the least he could do was hug you so you know he’ll always be there for you no matter what.

No words was exchanged for a moment, it was just you and him holding on to each other. It was sweet, you liked this.

But not anything lasts for long so at some point you let go of each other. “thank you Suho.” You thanked him. And when he looked at you your eyes were puffy but your lips was in a beautiful small smile he had always admired from afar.

And as time flew by it was already 9 pm so you had to be home or your parents will get worried. As you and Suho helped each other clean the table, he asked you “y/n, do you want to maybe study again tomorrow? since it’ll be Saturday we should go to the cafe nearby”

You couldn’t decline the handsome man in front of you, so of course you said yes to his request!

a/n : hope you enjoy this ff anon!! >.<

[beforeimdeceased]

IM SO HOOKED ON CRYBABY I NEED MORE OMG

CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT6

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you’ve had enough at this point.

a/n: the next chapter is already in the works and guys…things get so… like there’s no going back i think this is the end point 😭

i don’t care if it hurts

masterlist.

no one can get a word in before jesse breaks up the fight. “we go on in two minutes. get it together. fucking get cleaned up.” he pulls at ellie.

you’re baffled, really. such a silly word but it’s the only one you can use. abby never really got into fights, that you’d known of. she was one of your best friends. and you never had the heart to tell her about what ellie had done, so how did she figure everything out? why are you spiraling? ellie probably said or did something to get herself punched. maybe this has nothing to do with you?

“and i’m very excited to introduce our next performers. watching them go from garages, to performing on stages, to signing record deals has been a beautiful journey. i’m happy to say i’ve been here since the beginning. now please make some noise for, seattle revival!”

you and abby are sat backstage as you dress her wounds. you wait to hear a familiar string of notes from jesse as he starts their first song, but you’re surprised by ellie’s voice on the mic.

“guys i just want to start the show off by apologizing to someone very near a dear to me. a very special person in my life who i’ve hurt—“

“we love you ellie!”

“aww i love you too. i want to say i’m sorry to her because i did some really fucked up shit in the past and i hope that she can forgive me and that we can move past it.”

the crowd cheers.

“and go back to being lovey dovey girlfriends. please forgive me babe. it’ll never happen again.”

abby’s mouth falls so far to the ground you could stick your fist in it. her face has never turned red faster. “what the fuck is she talking about? you guys were—are dating?”

you frantically shake your head. “no abby she’s lying. i don’t know what she’s gaining from it either. i think we should go now.”

“and this next song is dedicated to her—“ she points to you, an employee tugs at you to make you more visible, pulling you to the stage. a spotlight falls on you. everybody’s phone is up. everybody’s flash is on. here come the waterworks, fuck. didn’t you say you weren’t gonna cry today?

and then a familiar string of notes plays. jesse and dina catch on quickly, and your heart seeps. there was no way she was playing this song right now.

“when you were here before.”

you’re taken back to that first rehearsal. stuffed in jesse’s parents garage on a gloomy day. you were sitting on a scratched up couch, petting his cat. ellie looked over to you with a smile on her face. “you listen to a lot of music?”

you nod. “i love music. i was honestly so excited to hear you guys are starting a band. i’ll be your first groupie! handmade merch and everything.”

she laughs before whispering something to jesse and dina, then returning to the mic. “we’re gonna dedicate this one to our first groupie.”

“couldn’t look you in the eyes.”

dina and jesse slipped off after that practice and you knew they’d gone to go fuck somewhere, so you stayed with ellie. “they have no idea how to be discreet about it.” you laugh. she shrugs. “good on them, atleast i’m not alone dealing with it anymore.”

she’d convinced you to grab icecream with her. nestled in the booth of the old restaurant over an icecream sundae. soft music playing from its speakers. it was nearly empty, and it had started to rain outside.

“so how long have you known jesse and dina?” you ask, dipping a spoon in your side of the sweet treat. she grabs a cherry from the top, popping it into her mouth. “since we were kids in highschool. those are my best friends. i’m excited to be starting a band with them, and i’m glad i got to meet you.”

you blush.

you’re crying now. onstage, you’re crying. you can feel the tears slipping down your cheeks and underneath your chin. you wipe at them but they just won’t go away. she was so sweet to you a couple years ago. she was the sweetest person you’d ever met. how could you even compare the person singing to you now, and the person you’d met back then?

then you get a glimpse of her. it’s in her eyes. you’re flashing back between that memory and now. her hand in yours, running through the rain. catching the bus back to jesse’s. staying up and watching movies all night. waking up the next day to the lovebirds apologizing, while you and ellie laugh about it so hard your stomachs started to ache.

and you’re conflicted because this is the same ellie that got drunk at a party and threw up all over you. twice. then the next day said, “atleast it was better than what you’d been wearing.” jesus, she was addicting. she’d hooked you in and completely destroyed you. your self esteem. and now she was trying to play nice?

out of the corner of your eye, before you can catch it, abby is walking onstage. she takes a moment to look at you, tears streaming down your face, and decides to turn around. she walks away and it takes you a minute to follow behind. calling for her. begging her to come back.

“abby stop. where are you going?”

“no, just stop. you’re pathetic. why do you take the shit she does? don’t you have any respect for yourself?”

you’ve never heard her speaking to you this way. between your head rushing from the crying and the whiplash you’re getting from her harsh words, you feel like you’re going to pass out. “i don’t just take it abby. how do you even know about that stuff—“

“because jesse and dina told me! i’m supposed to be your best fucking friend but you can’t even communicate the simplest of things. the things i know are hurting you inside. i was gonna— never mind. fucking forget it.”

and then she walks away, disappearing into a hallway. fading away slowly like a ghost. body blurred from your tears. you feel your feet get weak first, then you drop to your knees and onto the ground. huddling within yourself. letting all your tears fall.

the “seattle revival’s last show after party” is one you refused to miss. with everything happening between abby and ellie, you were more than prepared to let it all go. to get drunk or high or whatever the fuck, and stop feeling. this very thought picked you up off that floor, and led you to the dressing rooms. you enjoyed the rest of the show from there, wiping at your face so hard you felt like it would bruise.

when the band found their way into the dressing room, dina and jesse rushed over to comfort you. “i swear i’d bash her head in if it didn’t interfere with the tour. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t be apologizing for her but it’s the only way you’ll get a real one. i’m sorry.”

you had sat with the pain for long enough. you’d cried enough. you didn’t know where abby was or why she said what she did but it was your breaking point. if you were a house, she had pulled a loose brick. making everything collapse within itself. and tumble over everyone else in its path. you felt like…ellie. the world had darkened. the small light, the tiny bits of happiness in you, had melted away. you didn’t care anymore.

you get up to face ellie, her smile fading when her eyes meet yours. everything had left them. all that purity. all that love, was gone.

“honestly i’m over it. let’s go to the after party.”

[gojos-thot-patrol]

It's the horniest time of the year Dear reader.

Now Loading, Kinktober Week one...

Synopsis: Suguru has loved you since he met you. Or maybe lust is a better word. Either way, it never really mattered. You were a good girl who would never give a dirty fuck boy like him a chance. You were smarter than that. Even now, as you sit on his lap learning how to smoke for the first time, you'd never give him a chance. Right? Kinks: Pussy drunk, corruption, non/dub con, stoned sex, and slight yandere behavior. Viewer Discretion is advised.

It was the laugh that got him. Light and sweet, delicate even. A wind chime giggle that drew Suguru’s attention away from whatever the fuck his roommate was talking about, and right to you. You were adorable. Bright vibrant eyes and a shy smile, trying to hide behind a red solo cup as Shoko continued to tease you. It made his dick twitch.

“Yeah, so true Satoru- hey who’s that?” He asked Gojo, cutting off whatever rant he was on to point at you.

“Oh, you haven't met Y/n yet?” Gojo asked.

“You have?” Suguru didn’t like the jealous pang he got from that. He didn’t like the idea that Gojo got to you first. Satoru knew this, and smirked back at him.

“Sure have,” He winked, “She’s Shoko’s new roommate. This is apparently her first party ever.”

“You don’t say?” Suguru hummed, looking over at you in time to see you decline a joint being passed your way. You screamed sheltered kid, and you probably didn’t even know it. “You should introduce me.”

“And why should I?” Satoru scoffed, “So you can fuck her once and then never answer her texts again?”

“Are you planning on treating her any better?” Suguru snorted back.

“Hey man, that’s!-...Fair enough, actually, come on.” He sighed, nodding his head towards you as he escorted his friend over. “Hey, Y/n!” He yelled with a laugh, and you waved to him.

“Hi Gojo!” You smiled, drowsily swaying back and forth as you enjoyed your buzz.

“You look like you’re having a good time,” He chuckled, “Hey, I got someone I want you to meet. This is-”

“Hi Suguru!” You waved at him, your smile growing. To Satoru’s, but more so Suguru’s surprise, you seemed to know him.

“Oh, uh, Hey.” He smiled with a soft wave.

“I thought you said you hadn’t met?” Satoru asked, looking puzzled. Your confusion etched your features as well as you looked up at him.

“Why would you say that? We have Music History together.” You gently reminded him. Geto ran though his mind palace, ripping books off the shelves as he desperately tried to remember who you were, and how the fuck he could have possibly forgotten you. 

Wait…wait…No fucking way, you couldn’t be the same girl. The one who passed out almost the moment class started? The girl who wore exclusively sweatpants and band hoodies? He had noticed you before, mostly for your good taste in music, but seeing you when you weren’t just a walking corpse was like seeing an entirely different human being. 

“I never said that, Gojo doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Suguru swiftly threw Satoru under the bus, sitting next to you and draping his arm around your shoulders, “How have you been Y/n? Enjoying the party?” his smile was so charming, it was the only thing you could really focus on. 

“Backstabbing asshole-” Satoru muttered as he went to find better friends. 

“I’ve been good!” You smiled with a nod, leaning into his side, “Little nervous about last week's test though. I kinda struggle in that class.” You confessed.

“Really?” He asked with a precious tilt of his head. “You know, I have an A in Music History, I could tutor you if you wanted.”

“Really?!” You gasped, eyes dazzling like all of the glitter in the world was contained in them, “That would be so nice!” He laughed softly and nodded. This was almost too easy.

“Of course Sweetheart. Here, let me get your number.” 

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

You hated how much you liked Suguru. How special his attention made you feel, how sincere his care seemed to be, and how sweet his actions were. Mostly because you knew it was all an act. You thought it was funny how he tried to talk you up as if Shoko wasn’t your roommate. Did he really think she wouldn’t warn you about her friends and their natural fuck boy tendencies?

After the party that night, Shoko had told you exactly who Suguru Geto was when it came to women, and made it clear in no uncertain terms that the only thing he wanted was a one night stand. It hurt at first, considering you did have a crush on him at one point. But, you were thankful for the warning nonetheless. You knew your judgment when it came to guys was less than phenomenal, and this whole ordeal confirmed it. 

Still, you happily accepted the free tutoring. If there was one thing Suguru knew a lot about, it was anything having to do with music. His passion for it leaked into how he taught, and soaked up into you. You found yourself actually engaged in topics you previously found boring, and your grade did genuinely improve. You hated that it only added fuel to your ridiculous crush. There was some truth in the saying that the quickest way to fall in love with someone is to see them talk about their passions, and you were falling into that trap. 

Of course, the hours spent together outside of tutoring didn’t help. The parties his frat held, movie nights hosted by Shoko, randomly bumping into him at the library. You almost always found yourself somehow alone with Suguru. Often it was friendly: talking about whatever new band he discovered, or about whatever movie was playing. 

But, sometimes it got more intimate than that. Him pulling you onto his lap to “make room for more people” on the couch. Hiding in a corner at some basement show together, close enough that you could smell the tequila on his breath while he openly wished to kiss you. It took willpower you didn’t even know you had to deny him. You quickly came to the realization you needed a distraction. 

That’s what led you here. “Who are you texting?” Suguru asked, completely giving up on trying to teach you about the effect the LA riots had on the rap music genre. 

“Why do you want to know?” You questioned back, lifting an eyebrow. You were a little more than two months into your friendship with Suguru, and at some point during that time he decided he was privy to whoever it was you were talking to at any moment. He said it was because he cared about you and wanted to keep you safe. You knew it was because he was jealous.

“I’m just curious who you think is more important than getting a passing grade?” He smiled so syrupy sweet as the sarcastic comment dripped from his lips. Asshole. You sighed and shook your head. You wanted to argue with him more, but, you couldn’t keep this secret from him forever.

“So, you know Keigo from class, right?”

“Why the fuck are you talking to Keigo?” Suguru snapped as his eyes narrowed, a stark contrast from just seconds before. You flinched a bit at the venom in his question. Suguru never really cursed, and it always made you feel small when he did. Still, you couldn’t back out now.

“Simple, he’s my boyfriend.” You shrugged, trying to feign a confidence you truly did not have.

“Your what?” 

“Oh my God, you’re acting like I just told you I fucked a republican, it’s not that big of a deal!” You scoffed at his utter disgust, your shame from earlier being replaced with indignation at his reaction. You weren’t sure when he got the idea that he owned you, but you were determined to kill it.

“How long have you been “dating” Takami?” He more accused than asked.

“Only like a week. It’s not that big a deal, almost no one even knows. We're going to make it official at ABO’s Halloween party next week.” Oh, of course. You would choose his frat party to try and make things “official.” Like you were trying to make him look like a fool. He rolled his eyes, dramatically leaning back in his chair, as if he was trying to get away from you.

“Oh, well isn’t that just cute.” He sneered, the word “cute” cutting deeper than any insult he could have thrown out at that moment. You bristled at the comment, fighting back the urge to punch his stupidly cute throat.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” You scoffed, “Like you have any say in my relationships.”

“I just think it’s really funny that you say you want nothing to do with fuck boys, and you want a real relationship with someone who cares about you” he mocked, “Just to start dating the second biggest fuck boy on campus, right after Ryomen of all people.” He shrugged calmly despite the rage setting a fire up his spine.

“Well, aren't you just a nice guy.” You all but hissed. It was his turn to flinch now, your words clearly hitting a nerve dead on. He clenched his jaw and his fist, before visibly letting it go.

“Whatever. You’re a grown woman, make whatever mistakes you want.” He sighed, not willing to escalate the fight any further. Right now, that is. It wasn’t your fault you wanted to give Keigo a chance, you saw the good in everybody. Even him once, before Shoko got to you. His fight wasn’t with you, it was with Keigo. 

“You’re right, I am!” You announced, proud of your perceived win. 

“Yeah, you go girl, you’re so empowered. Now can we please get back to studying?’ He scoffed with a shake of his head. 

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

“You sure Takami isn’t going to show up tonight?” Gojo asked as he adjusted the fangs in his mouth.

“Not if he knows what’s good for him.” Suguru chuckled a bit as he finished putting the wolf paint on his face. His knuckles were still a little sore from where he cut them on the other man's teeth, reminding him of the night he reminded Keigo to stay away from you. He wondered if his eye looked any better. “How do I look?”

“Like a dollar store werewolf.” Satoru smirked, taking in his friend's torn up flannel and cheap wolf ears (definitely not cat ears) combo.

“Perfect.” Suguru grinned.

“So do you think he told Y/n what happened?” Gojo asked as he put on his vampire cape, finishing his own look. 

“Nope,” Suguru smiled, “That’s the best part. She told me the next day in class that apparently he got mugged by a stranger. She was pissed too.”

“So he kept the secret.” Gojo laughed, “Maybe he isn’t a bird brain after all.” He hummed as the doorbell rang, alerting them to the first wave of guests coming. They made it down the stairs in just enough time to see Nanami and Sukuna open the door for you, Shoko, Mei Mei, and-

Motherfucker.

“Keigo!” Suguru smiled, warm and friendly, as he wrapped an aggressive arm around your date. “I didn't expect to see you here after what happened the other night! Welcome!”

“Hey man, you can’t let one asshole run your life, ya know?” Keigo grinned, playing along despite glaring daggers into the wolfman next to him. 

“You’re so brave.” Gojo sighed with mock irreverence, “Your eye looks terrible.”

“Gee thanks.” Kegio grinned through gritted teeth. “I made it a part of the look.”

“Is the look meant to be a mugging victim?” Gojo asked with a mocking tilt of his head.

“No, he’s a zombie.” You scoffed with a playful eye roll.

“Apparently Mad Hatter was “too cheesy” for him.” Mei Mei tsked. Oooh, an Alice in Wonderland theme. It made sense, Shoko was clearly Alice- meaning Mei Mei was probably the Cheshire Cat and you were The White Rabbit. Suguru was wondering how the other girls convinced you to go out in such a short dress, the satin bunny ears and bowtie reading more Playboy Bunny than The White Rabbit. 

“You all look fantastic ladies, come on in.” He smiled, going to wrap his arm around you to lead you inside. Only for Keigo to intercept him, snatching you away from Suguru’s side and into his own with a swift arm around your waist, making you giggle up at him. Apparently, he wanted another black eye to match his current one. 

Two hours later, and Suguru was considering the ethics of murder. Clearly, knocking a molar out of Keigo Takami’s head wasn’t enough, he needed to be put in the dirt. A fact he was making all too clear by the way he blatantly felt you up, on Suguru’s couch no less. It made his teeth itch to watch, the way you drunkenly swayed into that dirty asshole. How you shyly batted his hand away from the hem of your dress, probably knowing it would be there later anyway. 

“Want me to take care of that fucker for you?” Ryomen asked, having long ditched the Micheal Myers mask and now just looking like a regular blood splattered mechanic. He knew how long Suguru had coveted you, and had no problem looking for a bullshit reason to kick your boyfriend out if it meant his boy got a chance. 

“No, If we kick him out now she’ll just go with him.” Suguru scoffed, taking a drink of his cheap beer. “Honestly, that’s probably what he wants. To get her home and alone.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna wait to get home.” Ryomen grimaced as the two of them watched Keigo slowly try to lead you away to an empty room. Suguru scowled, suddenly understanding Keigo’s game. He could hear that blonde asshole in his head now, laughing in his victory. You want me to stay away from her? What if I fucked her under your roof instead? He felt his damaged fingers twitch, craving violence.

“I’ll be in my room.” Suguru grumbled, making sure to bump into a party goer as he stormed off, begging someone to start a fight with him. Sadly, no one had the balls to try and square up, so he made it to his door with no problem. He sighed as he entered his room, vacuum sealed away from the rest of the party. He felt pathetic as he flopped on his bed. A loser as he pulled his stash out, rolling a joint and turning on the album Pablo Honey by Radiohead. If he was going to be in his sad boy feelings, he was going to commit to the bit.

Creep had just came on when you came sniveling into his room. He wasn’t sure who was more shocked about the situation, him or you. You looked up at him with wide wet eyes that probably should have made him feel some sort of sad, but just made him want to rip that strip of fabric you called a “dress” off you instead.

“Oh, uh, I didn’t expect to find you in here.” You sniffed as you leaned against the door.

“It’s my room?” He asked more than stated. 

“Yeah, and it’s your party too.” You reminded him as you joined him on the bed. He blatantly watched the way your thighs doubled in size as you sat, and desperately wished to be in between them. Drying your tears while he showed you why that asshole you were with now would never compare to him. “I thought you’d be mingling.” You mumbled.  He shrugged and took a drag off of his joint.

“I got bored,” He lied, “Too many jagoffs.” Okay, that was honest. 

“Yeah, tell me about it.” You chuckled humorlessly with a sniffle. He reached out and wiped a tear away with his thumb. 

“Where’s your boyfriend Doll?” He questioned, ignoring the frustration building up inside of him. Where the fuck was that loser? What, was he too much of a “man” to know how to deal with a few tears? Too bad- he was the one that wanted the boyfriend label. Your emotional comfort was his job now, not Suguru’s. 

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. He got upset when I wouldn’t sleep with him and ended up taking Tinkerbell home.” OH. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry Sweetheart,” He cooed, voice dripping in sincerity as he pulled you into his lap for a warm hug. You accepted gratefully, wrapping your arms around him and shoving your face in the crook of his neck, letting the familiar smell of his soap fill your senses. 

“It’s okay…” You sniffled softly, “You tried to warn me…we weren’t that serious anyway.” You sighed. He massaged gentle circles into the small of your back, holding you close.

“Still, I know it must hurt.” He muttered to you.

“It doesn’t feel good.” You confirmed with a sigh. You watched him take a drag off the joint in his hand. You watched the way his lips wrapped around the paper, felt his chest expand under you, smelled the smoke despite the effort he made to blow it away from you. Something about the performance was mesmerizing. You never really considered drugs before, but now? Knowing they were supposed to make you feel good even when you felt like shit? Your interest was piqued. 

“Does weed taste good?” You asked, catching Suguru off guard mid puff. A laugh turned into a mild coughing fit. You pat his back to help him through it.

“Where did that come from?” He asked with an amused smirk as he caught his breath again.

“I’m just curious about it.” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze in embarrassment as you felt your face heat up. 

“Eh, it depends on the weed really. Different strands taste different.” he explained, ashing the joint into one of the soda cans Gojo left around the room. “Dirt weed tastes like dirt.” 

“What does that one taste like?” You asked, pointing at the spliff in his hand. He shrugged.

“Hard to explain. Why, you wanna try it?” He asked with a soft grin. Your face felt like it was on fire, hiding half of it in his chest and shrugging with one shoulder. 

“I mean…kinda.” You confessed. Suguru tried to figure out when Halloween passed and Christmas came, because normally a gift like this required a Christmas miracle to make happen. He handed you the joint, placing it between your thumb and pointer finger. He watched with intense eyes as you brought it up to your face.

“Um, so…Is there anything like, special I’m supposed to do here, or?” You sheepishly asked, and Suguru had to slightly adjust your position on his lap so you didn’t feel his hard on. God you were perfect. A soft innocence clung to you, one even that dirty asshole Keigo couldn’t taint, but Suguru knew he could decimate. 

“Just take a deep breath,” He said, taking your hand and guiding the joint to your lips, “Hold it for a few seconds in your lungs, then let it out.” He instructed. You tried to do what he said, sucking in hard and deep, like you were trying to impress him. Turns out, weed tastes like fire. The smoke barely hit your lungs before the burn burst out from you, lighting an inferno in your throat as you attempted to cough your lungs out. 

“Whoa, slow down there Puff!” He laughed, leaning over and pulling a water bottle from the mini fridge he used as a nightstand. “You’re gonna green out if you keep that up.” He took the joint and opened the bottle for you, watching as you tried to waterboard yourself to sooth your ragged throat. 

“Why do people enjoy that?!” You gasped as you finally came up for air. 

“Normally they don’t try to smoke half a joint in one drag,” He teased you gently, rubbing your back as you shook your head. “Here, let’s try a softer approach, okay?”

“Okay…” You muttered hesitantly. You hated that burn, but you were curious what he had in mind to make it gentler. You watched him bring the joint to his own lips, taking a deep breath before balancing the joint on one of the soda cans. He turned your head to face him. 

You didn’t even realize what was happening until his mouth was on yours, soft and sweet, coaxing your lips to part. Despite your better judgment, you leaned into the kiss, opening your mouth for him, letting the smoke pour from his lungs and into yours. He was right, it was softer this time. The burn was mellowed from him taking it in first, giving you room to taste the earthy- almost piney flavor of the weed. You were able to hold it in your lungs longer this time, if for no other reason than because the kiss forced you too. 

As he pulled back, you blew out the gray fumes, coughing a little, but not nearly as much as you did last time. Oh, okay, you got it now. “See?” He purred as he watched you watch the smoke, “You’re token’ like a pro now.”

“I feel light headed,” You confessed as you leaned into him, “And heavy.” He was a little shocked it was already starting to hit you, but then again, you probably didn’t have a lot of experience with…well anything.

“Makes sense. It’s an Indica strain.” He informed you as he repositioned you in his lap, pressing your back to his chest. 

“What does that mean?” You asked as you watched him pick up the almost dead joint again.

“It just means it mellows you out,” He gave the short version, not really having the time or the patience to give you a thorough run down of cannabis strains. At least not right now. “Want to try the joint again?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Absolutely not.” You said, not wanting to feel your lungs explode again. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He said as he took another puff off the joint, killing it this time and shoving it into the ashtray formerly known as soda can. He leaned down and pressed another kiss to you. You focused more on him than the smoke this time. On the way his lips moved hungrily against yours, on the way you could taste vodka and redbull on his tongue-subtle under the taste of weed. On the way his hand found the hem of your dress, teasing it in between his fingers before massaging your inner thigh. 

“Sug,” You giggled as you let the burning smoke out, squirming under his touch and pushing yourself further into his lap to try and make some distance between your skin and his hand, “What are you doing?”

“I’m just trying to make you feel good Sweetheart,” He purred, “What, did Keigo not touch you like this?” That had more edge to it than he intended, not that you noticed.

“No, he didn’t.” You admitted with a chuckle. Apparently you got the giggles when high. Your little confession went straight to Suguru’s cock though. He knew you were a good girl, saving yourself for him even before you knew you were his. 

“Probably for the best.” He laughed, moving his hand further up your inner thigh, making you gasp slightly. “He probably wouldn’t even know what to do once he got your panties down.” He huffed, “Or worse, bust in ten seconds and leave you unsatisfied.”

“Sug,” You sighed, having so much to say but not enough brain function to say it. He felt your thighs tremble under his hand and his heartbeat speed up with it. He had to have you or he was going to lose his mind. “Be nice…” You mumbled.

“And why should I be?” He asked, hand now slipping under your incredibly short dress, touching you in places you had never been touched before. “He wasn’t nice to you. I’d take such good care of you baby…” His lips were on your neck now, sending rolling waves of electricity down the column of your spine. You pressed your thighs together, unwittingly trapping his hand there and doing yourself no favors. You could feel yourself getting uncomfortably wet.

“Promise?..” You muttered. He had been sweet to you these last few months, and he had been actively pursuing you for this long- maybe Shoko was wrong this time. 

“Swear.” He whispered into your neck before kissing it with a force, surly leaving a purple bruise in his wake. “Let me show you…” He said as his other hand came up to massage your right breast. You took a deep breath, trying to think through what was happening and the consequences of your actions. You didn’t get very far. All you could think about was the way your buzzing skin reacted to his warm touch, and the anticipation building in between your legs. Your body had no idea how to handle all of this brand new stimulation. 

You took a deep breath, then nodded. “Okay.” You whimpered as you let your legs fall open for him. Suguru didn’t hesitate to drag a thick finger along your clothed slit, making you hiss and bite your lip.

“You like that Doll?” He asked, pushing your panties to the side and sliding two fingers in between your folds, brushing past the nub of nerves he found there. Pleasure jolted from the light touch, electrifying you and making you buck your hips into him for more. You nodded earnestly, desperate to explore this new sensation.  “Talk to me beautiful.” he warned. 

“Yes…” You gasped, melting into his broad chest as he ran two fingers over your sex, gracing your clit yet again.

“Want to feel even better?”  He purred and you nodded.

“Uh huh…” Your body tensed, your walls clenching as he bullied two fingers into you, trying to push out the sudden intrusion. He groaned as he felt you tremble around his digits, mouth watering at the thought of feeling it around his cock. He bucked his hips up into you, not bothering to hide the hard on you gave him anymore.

You moaned, breathing deep as you tried to adjust to the new feeling. Pleasure exploded in you as he curled his fingers up, touching your g-spot with a precision you could never manage. “You’re soaked baby girl,” He hummed as he worked his fingers inside of you, pressing his palm to your clit, moving in time and intensifying everything you felt. “Is all of this for me Doll?”

“Geto…” You moaned, your pretty sighs being music to his ears as you lazily rolled your hips in time with his fingers. Pleasure flooded your system, combining with your buzzing, heavy skin and light head to create a sensation that left you floating in the ninth dimension. You felt your stomach tighten in anticipation, and your legs start to tremble. You lugged your hand up to the back of his head, tangling your fingers into his long hair for support. 

“You sound so pretty when you say my name…” He moaned, leaving a trail of his marks down your neck, obvious evidence that you were his and his alone. 

“Geto, I’m-” You whined softly as you felt a wave of euphoria roll through your body as the pressure came to a tipping point. You looked up at him with wide desperate eyes and whined, feeling the electricity bubble and pop inside of you threatening to explode.

“Cum for me sweetheart,” He groaned, coaxing your climax out of you with every stroke of his fingers, “Cum all over me.” It was like your body was under some sort of spell, forced to act upon his will. The pressure finally exploding inside of you, sending a surge of ecstasy and fire through your body, hitting you with intense wave after wave of bliss. Your legs trembled from the intensity of it as you tried to catch your breath. Your hands fell from his hair and to his sides, digging your nails into Suguru as you desperately tried to ground yourself.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cum, do you know that?” He hummed, removing his fingers from your cunt and placing them in your mouth. You got the hint, sucking them clean with earnest. His breath caught in his throat as you did, your eagerness catching him kinda off guard. He took his digits out of your mouth. You felt Suguru push you forward, using one hand to keep you from folding in half and the other to pull the zipper of your costume down. You’re pretty sure he unhooked your bra while he was back there, too. 

From there it wasn’t hard for him to lay you on the bed and pull the strapless dress off of you. You whined softly as he pulled your bra off your chest. You tried to lift a hand up to undress him, but your body felt so heavy it was hard to move. He caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your wrist.

“Let me take care of you Sweetheart,” He winked, “You just relax.” He rested your hand on your chest before ripping off his cheap flannel and tattered thrift store jeans. He was back in between your legs before you could fully process what was happening. You felt your mouth dry at the sight. Or maybe it was another side effect of the weed. Either way, he looked like a Greek god. 

His long, normally perfect hair was messy, frizzy and sweat stuck to his face. His honey brown eyes were dark with carnal desire. His thick cock was standing at full alert, angry and already dripping against his abs. The sight of it made your stomach explode with nerves, and your chest tightened as you realized he planned to shove all of that into you.

“S’ big..” You slurred, shaking your head. He chuckled softly, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Awe, thanks sweetheart.”

“It’s not gonna fit Geto...” You whimpered to him, “Not for the first time..” Awe, you were so cute, it almost made Suguru’s heart skip a beat. Almost. More than anything else, the innocence in your watery red eyes coupled with your kiss swollen lips made him all the more eager to prove you wrong. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll fit,” He assured you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. Of course he was going to fit, you were made for him. He pulled your hips to his, massaging your hips with his thumbs as he lined you up. He sunk his hips in and-

Oh Fuck.

Your cunt was more intoxicating than a shot of heroin straight into the bloodstream. You were warm and soft, velvety walls contracting around him and pulling him impossibly deep. Your soft whines as your thighs wrapped around him, trying to ground yourself and pull him closer all at the same time was better than opium. Fuck drugs, nothing was ever going to top this. 

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re perfect.” He groaned into your ear, pulling back and brushing against your sweet spot so perfectly. You whined under him, your nails found his back and clawed into him, leaving scarlet crescent moons in his back as evidence of your presence in his bed. You had never felt so full and perfectly stretched at the same time. A fire split you down the middle, burning away the pain and leaving only an intense pleasure in its wake, one you knew no toy would ever be able to replicate. 

His blunt nails bruised your hips as he fought to stay still, trying to respect that this was your first time. You fucked that up though with a soft buck of your hips, silently giving him the green light to move. And move he did, desperately chasing his high as he dragged his cock in and out of your weeping cunt. You watched as his eyes glazed over and his face flushed, aiming every thrust of his hips to perfectly hit your g-spot and pull another sangria sweet moan from your mouth.

Geto had imagined what your pussy would feel like before. Countless times late at night, with his shirt between his teeth as he wished his hand was you. A few times with girls who looked kinda like you at a party, where half way through he’d have to shove her face in the pillow, and close his eyes to see your face. Hell, he had even imagined it a few times when he was drunkenly fucking Satoru’s throat. None of it could even come close to the euphoria he got from the actual thing. 

He was convinced your pussy was actually made for him. The way your walls perfectly fit him, warm and weeping, begging him to fuck you. His pace was brutally set, every thrust in making you flutter around him and his spine shiver. He wasn’t going to last nearly as long as he wanted and that thought was driving him mad.

“Fuck, pretty girl, you were made for me,” He slurred softly into your ear, “You feel so fucking amazing, so good. I knew you had a slut in you,” He huffed a soft chuckle, “And it’s all for me, isn’t it Doll? Who else could make you feel this good?”

“No one, all yours..” You moaned, trying to keep up with him, but faltering as you fought against wave after wave after wave of euphoria crashing into your senses. Your nervous system was fried beyond belief at this point, asking you to speak was just inhumane.

“Atta girl,” He praised as his hand reached down to massage your clit, setting even more fireworks off inside of your veins and behind your eyes. He wanted you- No, he needed you, carnally. Something inside him wasn’t going to be able to function anymore if he didn’t have you by his side. He could feel the chemicals in his brain reworking themselves in real time, his body flushed and buzzed with desire. The world could be crumbling around the two of your right now and he doubted he’d even notice. 

The coil that was forming inside of you was tightening at an alarming rate, your pussy already sensitive from coming once before. Your body reacted to Suguru in ways it hadn’t reacted to anything or anyone before, and it left you feeling like you were on fire as you got lost in the feelings between your legs. You felt your muscles tighten and contract, and you tried to warn him, you truly did. 

Before you could even open your mouth to form the words though, the coil snapped, opening the floodgates to a sea of pleasure that overrode any of your higher cognitive power. It was like lightning had struck, your buzzing body being electrocuted to life as dopamine and ecstasy exploded out of your brain and into your nervous system, leaving you shaking and trembling as (you think) you yelled out his name.

Suguru didn’t let up for even a second, watching the way your face contorted and scrunched in pleasure. It was an image he wanted in his mind for the rest of time. “‘M gonna cum,” He huffed, trying to find his own ability to speak, “‘gonna cum so hard, let me cum inside, baby. Please, please, let me have you...” You whined almost pathetically under him, the pleasure from your ongoing orgasm becoming almost painful with Geto’s refusal to let up. His hand finally left your clit, trying to find stability on the pillow to try and brace himself for his own oncoming high.

Only for you to intertwine your fingers with his. Letting him press your hand into the cushion under your head, your angelic doe eyes filled with pleasure induced tears and lust and what he wanted to believe was love, met his own. His eyes, filled with need and desire, and unadulterated adoration. Your lips quivered when they parted.

“S-Suguru…” You whimpered softly.

He came the hardest that he had ever cum in his life. Right then and there, deep inside you. He had to throw his head down and bite your shoulder to keep the rest of this party from hearing the expletives that spewed from his mouth, mixed with your name and words of praise. He was thankful even now he could hear the music from the festivities, hopefully none of them heard the two of you together. Those sounds were only for him.

He was breathing hard, but not nearly as hard as you. He barely kept himself from collapsing on top of you. “You still with me Sweetheart?” 

“Yeah…I’m with you…” You nodded out with a soft nod. He forced himself to pull out, and you wanted to bite him for doing it. You went from feeling full and complete to more empty than you ever had in your life, and you hated it. He hummed softly as he collapsed next to you, and pulled you tight against his chest. “I’m so tired..” You muttered.

He kissed your forehead. “Then get some sleep, Doll. I got you.” He assured you as he cuddled up next to you, feeling particularly tired himself.

“You’re gonna leave…” You whimpered, regret started to seep in as you remembered what kept you from ever doing this in the first place. Suguru adamantly shook his head, gently pulling your head up to look him in the eyes.

“No baby, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” And for as many times as he had used that line in the past, for the first time in his entire life, he truly thought meant it. 

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[bloatedandalone04]

Sound of Your Heart

➪the one where you take care of clay after his surgery.

Warnings: mentions of surgery, descriptions of wounds, swearing, fluff to the max because clay is such a sweetheart and deserves everything good in the world

Word Count: 2.1k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Fuck,” Clay grunted as he sat up in bed. His arm instinctively reached out to you, but he found your side of the bed empty. Judging by the indentation and the warmth his hand was met with, he knew you hadn’t been up for long, and it was most likely your absence that caused him to wake up so abruptly. He never could sleep for long without you. “Y/n?” He called out to you, and not even a second later your head was peeking out from the bathroom doorway. 

When you furrowed your brows in question, he reached out for you as he slumped back against the headboard. 

“Baby,”

You were crossing the room instantly after tossing your toothbrush onto the bathroom counter, forgoing your previous plan to brush your teeth so you could instead check on your wounded boyfriend. Sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, you take his hand in yours as you give him a concerned look. “What? What’s the matter, baby?”

He grunted quietly as he placed his free hand against his chest, his fingers picking at the edges of the bandage that was covering his incision mark.

You understood without him actually saying anything and moved closer so you could push away his hair that fell over his forehead. “Is it hurting bad today?” You ask in a soft voice as you move your hand down to massage his shoulder. 

He shook his head a bit as he laced his fingers with yours and squeezed them. “Just sore,” he tried to play it off, but you knew him better than that. He was clearly in pain, but wasn’t telling you just how much, as if that would make him look weak or vulnerable or something. 

You give him an unimpressed look as you reach over to grab his pain meds from off the nightstand. “You don’t need to lie to me, Clay,” you tell him as you grab his hand and place two of the pills onto his palm. “I’ve been with you for how long now? Almost three years? I know when you’re lying, so I’m not sure why you still try to do it to me.”

He huffed and took the glass of water you held out to him from off the nightstand as well. “I’m not lying,” he tried but knew it was no use. You simply knew him too well. Sighing, he took the meds before putting the glass aside. “It’s not bad. It was worse yesterday.”

You nod and run the tip of your finger along the edge of the tape on his chest. “Okay, that’s good,” you murmur and lean down to press a kiss to the skin of where his heart is. “It should only hurt for a few more days, then you’ll be a whole new man.” 

He gave you a boyish grin, your attempt at lightening the mood helping more than you probably knew. “I’m feeling better already,” he said and lifted his arms. “Lay with me.”

You give him a look of warning, one he’s seen you wear a lot since he got off that surgery table. “No,” you reply and move away from him, but he doesn’t drop his arms as he stares at you. “I don’t want to hurt you, that’s why I’m not sleeping on you like I usually do at night. I don’t want to put pressure on your chest.”

He drops his arms to his sides at that as a laugh escapes him. “Oh, so that’s why you won’t touch me when we’re in bed,” he laughed again while you rolled your eyes. “Come here, baby, please? Your rejection is hurting my heart.”

You gasp and lean over to slap his leg through the thin sheet that still covered it. “Don’t say that to me,” you scold but can’t help the grin that took over your face at the sound of his laugh. “God.”

“I’m just kidding,” he assured you and leaned over to place his hands on your waist in a gentle tug. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to joke around,” you mutter and stay still, despite him trying to pull you onto his lap. 

“Come here,” he nearly begged when you still weren’t giving in to the pull of his hands. “Please? I miss you.” 

You laughed and moved the smallest bit closer to him. “I’ve been by your side for the last eight days, Clay,” you point out and brace yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders and keeping your body away from his chest. “How could you possibly miss me?”

“I miss you all the time,” he answered, leaning forward and running his nose along your collarbone. “I miss feeling you against me. I’m not broken, Y/n, you won’t hurt me if you touch me.”

“I know, but,” you trail off as he gives you a pleading look. You never were good at saying no to him, and he was always way too good at getting you to give in to him. “Fine, but I need you to tell me if it hurts, okay? Promise me.”

Clay lit up at that and leaned back against the headboard, lifting his arms once more. “I promise,” he says quickly. “Come here, sweet girl.”

Of course, you give in. 

Moving to the middle of the bed, you situate yourself so your front is pressing against his side. His arms immediately wrap around you and pull your body closer to his, seeming to be unconcerned about the way he is putting a bit of a strain on his chest. 

If there is one thing Clay liked about needing to take those meds, it was that they kicked in fast. Now he could hold you in his arms and press you up against his chest without feeling any pain at all. 

You settle against him and place your head on his shoulder with a light pressure. “Is this okay?” You ask when he places a kiss on your forehead. “It doesn’t hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt, baby,” he assures you and holds you a bit tighter against him. 

He missed this. You had been so careful around him, and while he appreciated that and absolutely adored the fact that you didn’t want to hurt him, he craved the physical touch he was used to receiving from you. Your relationship had pretty much been built on touch, whether that be hand holding, kisses on every inch of your skin, or wrapping each other up when it was time for bed. 

Maybe he was greedy, but he had been craving that sense of normalcy ever since he returned home from the hospital. He had finally managed to convince his mother that he was fine and that you were going above and beyond to make sure he was doing well, and all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his recovery process with you in his arms. 

He couldn’t do much, and even getting up to go to the bathroom or changing his clothing proved to be hard tasks at times,but he would gladly toughen up and take that pain rather than have you too afraid to go near him.

“I missed this,” he sighed and placed another kiss on the top of your head. “I missed holding you.”

You smiled up at him. “I missed it, too,” you admitted and placed your hand over his mouth when he leaned down to kiss you. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet. You interrupted me before I could.”

He scoffed quietly, a teasing grin on his lips. “I don’t care,” he said and moved your hand so he could place a kiss on your mouth. When you pulled away after a quick peck, he groaned. “You’re killing me here.”

You raise a brow and begin to lift yourself up. “What did I say about you joking like that?” 

“No,” he quickly pulled you back down onto him. “I’m sorry. No more, okay?”

Giving him a skeptical look, you settle back against him and gently rub the skin next to the bandage. “I know I’m probably being a bit overbearing right now, but I just worry about you. Plus, your mom calls me everyday to make sure I’m taking proper care of you since you won’t let her,” 

He laughs and the sound vibrates his body against yours. “Yeah, that sounds like her,” he mumbled, running his hand up and down your back. “She gets to pick the surgeon if you get to take care of me. That was the deal, and she chose her doctor friend she’s known for years. Now you get to do your part and look after me.”

“She was very persistent that her friend needed to be the one to do it, huh?”

“That’s my mother for you,” he replied and you laughed. 

“I like your mom,” you mumble. “She doesn’t put up with any bullshit when it comes to you. We have that in common.”

Clay hummed, very aware of just how protective his mom had been over him since he was informed of his condition. “That’s why you and her are the best women in my life,” 

“We’re the only women in your life,” you correct him with a side glance before leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “And don’t ever forget that.”

He grinned down at you, reaching one hand up to brush away the hair from your face. “I love you,” 

“I love you more,” you tell him and kiss him on the lips, despite your previous excuse of why you didn’t want to kiss him right now. Honestly, fuck morning breath when your boyfriend is this hot. 

He kisses you back, deepening it as he lets his need for you pour from his mouth to yours. He wasn’t lying when he said he missed touching you, and that included with his lips. 

When he leaned further in, you gently pushed him back against the headboard. “Don’t wear yourself out,” you remind him and trail light kisses from his jaw down to the base of his throat. He refrained from moaning at just how good it felt since he clearly was in no shape to get laid at the moment, and he didn’t want to turn you on then not be able to properly take care of you. “Your meds should be kicking in any minute now and they make you drowsy.”

“I know,” he rasped, tilting his head when you began peppering his neck with quick kisses. “That’s why I hate them. I just woke up and I’m already tired again.”

You hum and pull away from him completely. He opens his mouth in protest, but you silence him with a raise of your hand. “That’s a good thing, it makes you sleep off the pain,” you grinned and lifted yourself off the bed. Clay’s eyes trail up and down your body, his teeth getting caught between his teeth as he takes in the sight of your bare legs. “Don’t look at me like that.”

He lifted a brow as he continued to admire your body. “Like what?”

“That,” you point at him. “Like you want to pounce on me or something.”

“You’re wearing nothing but my shirt, sweet girl,” he stated the obvious as he slumped back against the pillow. “Of course I want to pounce on you. You know I would if I had the energy.”

That had you holding back your own sound of pleasure as you turned towards the door. “There will be a lot more time for that once you’re fully healed,” you really weren’t sure who you were trying to reassure with that one. “Please try to stay awake while I go make your breakfast. You can go back to sleep once it’s done.”

Clay groaned and buried himself under the covers. “I could just go with you,” 

“No way,” you said immediately as you grabbed a pair of sweats to wear around the house. “No leaving that bed unless you absolutely have to. We’ve been over this.”

Clay rolled his eyes as he snuggled into your pillow and inhaled the sweet scent of your conditioner. “Whatever you say, mom,” he mumbled as he tried to keep his eyes open. “I expect you to spend at least another hour in bed with me after breakfast, just so you know.”

You shake your head and open the door, glancing back at him as he burrowed further under the covers. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,”

-

for you, my sweet @everydaydreamer

[sometimesanalice]

Like I Can (Part 2)

Summary: After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay.

Warnings: fuff, language, slight angst. Minors DNI

Length: 5.7K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Part 1 | Part 3

(Here you go, lovely people! The wait is over! Enjoy❣️)

When you had first told Rooster that you were moving to San Diego, it had felt like the first time in a long time in that things in his life were finally going his way. He was excelling in his career, he was mending his relationship with Maverick, and he finally had the opportunity to start putting some roots down.

He knew how lucky he was.

He had been thrilled to know that you would both be living in the same place for the first time since you were teens. Sure he might have gone a little overboard helping you find a place near him and showing you the hard-learned secrets of navigating the SoCal highway system, but he wanted you to be as happy here as he was.

You were the only person left in the world, outside of Maverick, who had known him the longest. You mattered to him.

It was clear that you thought it had been his doing for how quickly his friends had included you as part of the group, but he knew it was all you. They’d all been so surprised when his nice, sweet friend was the one who kept playing the raunchiest hands during Cards Against Humanity. You’d pretty much swept every round that night. He was pretty sure more than a few of them would trade him for you in a heartbeat.

While they liked you, they loved a competition. He should have seen it coming the second Phoenix volunteered to set you up on a date, because what one person does the rest will undoubtedly follow suit. 

And that’s how Rooster found himself watching you on your first of the dates from inside the Hard Deck, the chaos of it all drawing more than one set of eyes to where you were on the outdoor patio.

When he’d arrived at the Hard Deck earlier that evening, he was surprised to see you there already seated next to Bob with his other friends chatting away nearby. He didn’t remember you saying you were planning to stop by. 

You looked a bit more dressed up than how he usually saw you, wearing a fluttery looking sundress and your hair piled up on the top of your head. After making a quick stop to get a beer, he’d made his way over to you.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you tonight, kid.” Up close now, he could see some of the soft strands that had escaped your top knot and were framing your face. 

He was briefly reminded of the time you got bangs in high school. While he’d thought they had look nice on you, you on the other hand had immediately regretted them, pinning them back until they’d grown out.  

“Hey you,” you’d greeted him with an easygoing smile on your face, “I got here a little too early, but thankfully Bob was already here. He’s been keeping me company as I wait.”

“Huh? For what?” he’d asked a bit dumbly, his gaze bouncing between you and Bob.

Shit, did he forget someone’s birthday?

“She’s meeting my friend Casey from the animal shelter tonight,” Bob chimed in, speaking around a mouthful of sunflower seeds, “For the bet we all made the other night.” 

“Oh,” he’d felt his eyebrows pull together, glancing back to you, “I didn’t know you were actually going to go through with that.” 

He had never understood why you had such bad luck when it came to dating. He assumed you probably got a lot of attention in your day-to-day life, so your stories of dates gone wrong always left him baffled. Anyone could see that you were funny, intelligent, and had the best smile. If you’d been a stranger, he probably would have approached you out in a coffee shop somewhere if he’d seen you drinking one of those extra foamy cappuccinos you liked. 

But you weren’t a stranger you were his longest time friend, his most important friend.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you’d asked quizzically, tilting your head at him. “Outside of how competitive you all are, your friends were nice enough to go out of their way for me by setting this all up. Plus, it seems like it could be a lot of fun.” 

That was the thing though, he didn’t think you should have to be jumping through so many hoops to find a decent guy to date.

He’d met the guy you had dated before moving here a few times over FaceTime. He would usually try to engage him in some small talk always asking him about how many G’s he’d pulled that day before leaving for beers with the guys or some pick-up basketball game. It seemed to him like you guys had led pretty separate lives, but you liked him so the guy was fine in his books. However, when you had told him that you were moving out here alone, he couldn’t say he was too surprised. That guy was probably kicking himself now, because California looked good on you.

“Speaking of,” you’d reached out taking right forearm pulling it closer to you, he had let you turn and adjust it until you could read the time displayed by the dials on his watch. “I should probably head outside to wait for him there. You said we’d probably need to grab a spot on the patio, right Bob?” you’d asked turning away from him to confirm with the WSO.

“He said he was still looking for a dog sitter, but if he couldn’t find one he’d be bringing them with him,” Bob replied as he scanned the text on his phone, “That’s probably a good idea, just in case.”

He’d known this whole thing was going to be a bad idea, grasping the back of your stool he briskly turned you back towards him to give you a pointed look.

You’d just shook your head at him blithely and rolled your eyes, “It’ll be fine.” The expression on your face told him not to press the matter, even though he knew that would take a lot of willpower on his side.

Sighing in resignation, he had helped brace your forearm as you slid off the tall stool. You’d patted his chest a couple of times before making your way outside, the hem of your dress dancing around your thighs.

He had drunk that first beer a bit faster than normal, trying to focus on the conversation Coyote was attempting to have with him. Then he was waylaid at the bar for a while when he had gone up to get a second, spending some time catching up with Mav who had shown up and was sitting at the counter watching his fiancée as she ruled over her bar.

When he got back and looked out the window to check on you, he was expecting to see you out there talking with Bob’s friend and maybe a dog or two sitting at your feet, instead the scene before his eyes had him storming over to Bob who was already watching the madness unfold.

“What did he bring the whole damn shelter with him? There’s like 7 of them out there!”

“I had no clue he had that many,” Bob admits sheepishly.  

“He’s your friend, isn’t he? Shouldn’t that have come up in a conversation before this?” He liked Bob, but you were getting assailed by a few too many energetic dogs for his comfort. He can tell the guy is trying to wrangle them under control, and you’re generously laughing along while they vie for your attention, scratching as many ears as possible. 

“They seem to really like her. See how they keep licking her? Did you know that’s an instinctive behavior learned from when they’re puppies? It’s how they bond with others.” His attempt to bring some humor falling flat in Rooster’s ears.

“Not helpful, Bob,” he grunts into his beer his eyes glued on you.

Hangman struts up to them no doubt curious about what has the two of them staring so intently out the large window and lets out a low whistle, “Damn, that’s a lot of dogs.”

The sound naturally draws the attention of his other friends, and they are quick to drop everything to come gather around the window and observe the circus that is your first blind date.

The guy is standing trying to unravel the many leashes he is clutching onto, handing you a couple to hold on to as he works to disentangle the knot that’s formed. Your beer a casualty of the chaos when what looks like a Border Collie mix jumps up on the table.

“Oh shit,” he mutters when he sees you sneeze.

“What’s up, Rooster?” Natasha asked, glancing at him briefly before turning her eyes back to the flurry of fur outside.

“She’s allergic.” 

This is what he had been worried about when Bob mentioned your date might be bringing his dogs. He knew your pet dander allergy wasn’t usually too bad with a couple of animals, but being around this many couldn’t be good for you.

Now that you were settled in San Diego, you had told him you had been thinking about getting a pet. It was something that you were never able to have as a kid for the same very reason you were out there fighting back another sneeze. You were adamant about adopting one, but finding hypoallergenic pet in a shelter was harder than it was getting a missile to hit its target. 

When he sees you bring the back of your hand up to wipe under one of your eyes, he abandons his mostly untouched beer on the windowsill and marches towards the exit in a few long strides. Fingers already raised to his lips before he’s even made it outside. The sharp whistle he lets out the second his shoe hits the wooden planks of the patio surprising the tangle of dogs surrounding you into momentary stillness.

“Time to wrap it up, kid,” he hollers, jerking his head back towards the door.

Even haloed by the golden light from the setting sun, he can see how watery and red-rimmed your eyes have gotten. 

He sees you saying something to your date, handing him back the leashes as you step gingerly around the dogs towards him, making sure to avoid stepping on any of the happily wagging tails. 

You’ve got your shoulders pulled back tightly as you walk towards him, determination in every step you take. The force of your glare would be intimidating to anyone else, but he’s developed an immunity to it after so many years of having it directed at him. 

Although he doubts you can even actually see his face right now with how puffy your eyes have gotten.

“Are you kidding me right now? What the fuck, Rooster?” you fume at him.

Oh, yeah, you’re pissed. He’ll deal with that later. Standing up to his full height and crossing his arms over his chest, steeling himself in anticipation for whatever comes next.

“C’mon, I bet Penny has something for that,” he says gesturing to your face, “And then I’m taking you home.” 

He can tell you’re getting ready to give him a piece of your mind. Probably a very loud and vividly descriptive piece of your mind, but can’t be bothered to regret a thing. He knows he is in the right to intervene on your behalf. 

He’s looking out for you, like a good friend should. 

And you’re just standing there shaking your head at him, instead of listening to him when you know he’s right.

You’ve always been so frustratingly hardhead, so he pulls out the one thing he knows you can’t resist, “I’ll even stop for milkshakes.”

You look up at him skeptically with narrowed eyes before asking, “And I can drink it in the Bronco?”

That makes him chuckle, of course you’re negotiating with him. “Yeah, yeah. Now c’mon, time to call it.”

Rooster sees the moment the fight goes out of you as you turn back to Cashew, or whatever this guy’s name is. He looks a little like the crunchy granola type, if you ask him.

He grabs your hand pulling you with him back inside, not wanting to let you change your mind while the promise of a milkshake is still at the height of its power.

You tug back making him pause at the entry as you call back to Bob’s friend, “Thank you for coming, Casey. It was nice to meet you, but I think I’m going to head out. Good luck with your fundraiser for the shelter, I’ll make sure to spread the word.” 

That makes him smile to himself as he tows you with him, here you are clearly suffering with your allergies and still going out of your way for this person you’ve just met. You’ve always been too nice for your own good. Hell, you’ll probably get the whole team to donate to the fundraiser before he can even get you out the door.

Once back inside he pays the tab for both of you, while you swallow down the antihistamines Penny was able to find in the med kit she keeps behind the counter. The team is surrounding you asking questions about the date.

“I’ll tell you, but that information will cost you. You can Venmo the shelter your donation to their fundraiser and I’ll be happy to answer any questions once you send me documented proof of payment,” you say with a smug smile on your face.

He huffs a laugh while signing the receipt that Penny hands him as the cellphones are whipped out of various pockets. 

Such a little hustler. 

In school, you were usually the one to sell the most candy bars and wrapping paper during fundraisers. And he was always an easy target, you usually got at least $30 out of him every time. He was never one to say no to a good cause, or to you most of the time.

Bob apologizes profusely to you as he hands you a couple napkins when you start sniffling while gathering up your things. He watches as you just wave him off, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek and tell him not to worry about it. 

Huh.

Shaking out the thoughts of you with the soft-spoken WSO from his mind, he starts to guide you out the door to his car with a hand on your back. His other hand involuntarily tightening into a fist as Fanboy calls out promising to do better than Bob when you’re both almost out the door.

He can hear your phone already blowing up with the nosy questions from his squad before he’s even buckled got you in.

And on the drive back to your place he lets you drink your chocolate cherry chip shake in the passenger seat of the Bronco, just as he promised he would.

You weren’t too proud to admit that first blind date was a bit of a mess. 

While your eyes had been puffy for a couple days afterwards, you had also managed to get $700 in donations for the shelter from the Dagger Squad with all the questions you had answered for them while bleary-eyed. 

And it was Rooster who had ended up sending in the largest donation, which had surprised you since he wasn’t even participating in the bet. He had sent you a screenshot of his $200 contribution along with a text that simply said: “For the animals, thanks for not spilling your milkshake in my car like you did when you were 15.”

You’d sent him back a heart promptly followed by the middle finger emoji.

Thankfully the second date the next week was less eventful.

Fanboy had set you up with one of his friends from the escape room group he was in. When you’d admitted that you had never done one before he’d talked you through all his tips and strategies for how to beat it when you eventually tried one out. His enthusiasm could have been charming had it not come across as entirely mansplain-y. 

Why yes, you did know what a topographical map was and how to read it, thank you very much. 

You’d felt like some kind of oversized bobblehead since all you had been doing that evening was nodding along as an attempt to stay engaged with the conversation.

Rooster had stopped by when your date had left for the restroom. He was glistening a bit from the sweat he had worked up from the performance at the piano he had just given. It was a newer song for him, but he had still swept the rest of the bar up with his infectious energy.

“I can tell you’re bored out of your mind, kid. How about I show you how to do that four-in-one shot? Once you pick it up you might finally be some competition at the pool table,” he’d said grabbing your beer and swallowing down a few large mouthfuls.

From your spot at the high-top table, you could see more than a few hungry gazes in the crowded bar tracking him. Probably trying to figure out the nature of your relationship with him. 

When you shooed him away, he’d pulled down his sunglasses to give you a knowing look before taking your beer with him as he strutted away with a casual: “See you soon, kid.” 

He knew you too well. 

You weren’t bored per se, but you also weren’t having the greatest time.

When your date got back, it didn’t take long for the conversation to fizzle out, the long pauses feeling awkward rather than companionable. You’d both agreed that it probably wasn’t a great fit and left it at that. You’d even had Penny put his beers on your tab as a gesture of goodwill.

Plus, you had been trying to get Rooster to teach you that trick for ages, and you didn’t want to miss your moment now that he was offering. 

True to his word, he spent the rest of the evening teaching you his trick. You warred between watching him intently determined to nail the shot, and avoiding looking at him too closely. The tight jeans he was wearing bringing up some less than strictly friendly thoughts as he bent over the table to line up his shots. 

You were still terrible, but you also hadn’t had so much fun in a long time as you traded shit-talk back and forth with him. Cackling at the confusion on his face when he went to grab his beer only to find it empty. It was only fair, after all, he had taken yours.

It’s been a few days since then, and you are back at the Hard Deck for date number three.

From your time hanging out with the Dagger Squad, you’d learned that Coyote was a bit of a classic car aficionado. He had set you up with his friend, Will, who he had met at one of the vintage car conventions he had gone to in the area.

Will was already twenty minutes late when Hangman and Phoenix made their way up to the bar. The two keeping you company for a bit while they waited for Jimmy to get their next rounds, letting you know that Jake had already called dibs on setting up your next date.

“Get ready for a good time, Darlin’,” he boasted. 

“I keep telling you my guy is perfect. I already know they’re going to have some instant chemistry. I don’t know why you’re even bothering, I have got it on lock,” Natasha had retorted back.

He’d sent you a cocky salute before they’d both made their way back to the rest of the group in the corner of the bar.

When your date eventually arrived, you guys went through the typical small talk motions, trading the same tired questions that feel more like a casual interview than an actual conversation.

Since you already knew he had an interest in classic cars you had casually mentioned Penny’s ’73 Porsche to him as something to talk about other than the weather or what you did for work, and that’s how you found yourself sitting on your own waiting for him to return from where he was outside snapping away pictures of the sleek looking car.

You’re picking at the label on your bottle of Blue Moon to kill time, when you feel Rooster slide up next to you, the smell of his woodsy cologne giving him away before the print of his Hawaiian shirt does out of the corner of your eye. 

“Hey kid, you hungry? I could eat. What do you say to hitting up that taco place we like?”

You gesture to the coat draped on the back of the stool next to you, “I’m kind of on a date right now, Rooster.”  

“You sure about that? Kinda looks like you’re just sittin’ here alone to me.” Mimicking you he also signals to the empty stool next to you.

His words landing like a sucker punch.

“I mean, he hasn’t been out there for that long. It’s a sexy car, I get it.” 

And you did. 

However, it has also been like ten minutes now since he left you, and having Rooster point it out like that made you feel more than a bit self-conscious.

Especially when you look over and catch the rest of the team watching you guys with curious stares from across the bar. 

You knew having the dates here for their bet would put you directly in the spotlight, everyone wanting to see how things were going and how their friend stacked up against the competition. First dates were awkward enough without that kind of extra pressure and extra eyes. 

Now you were on the third one and things weren’t looking as promising as you had hoped when you first started. It would be humiliating if by the end of this they all thought that you were the problem. And it wasn’t like you weren’t trying, but being on display like this makes you feel like you’re wading through waist-deep mud while everyone watches you struggle from solid ground. 

When it came to dating, Rooster always had a much easier time of it compared to you. With those sunkissed curls and that toned body, it was rare if he didn’t get passed at least three napkins with phone numbers scribbled on them during nights out.

Even in high school you were always the one fielding questions from all the girls who were interested in him. Is he seeing anyone? Can you give him my number? He was naturally charismatic, of course people were drawn to him.

But you? You were just Bradshaw’s younger, tag-along friend. And then in college, it had always felt like you were the one who had to keep making all the first moves only to be left wondering why you had even bothered in the first place.

You never had a great poker face, and it’s clear you’re wearing your emotions on your face because when you turn back to Rooster his face immediately softens.

“I’m not trying to be an asshole,” he promises gently, as he reaches out to tug lightly on the end of the braid you had woven your hair in for the evening. “I just don’t get why you’re putting up with this guy ditching you like this. Especially when we could be getting tacos instead.”

Shaking your head ‘no’ to both the invitation and the insecurities that were trying to creep in, “I’m sure he’ll be coming back in any minute now.” 

You weren’t excusing his behavior, but you did also want to give him the benefit of the doubt. It could still get better, he could still surprise you.

“And guess what? Apparently Will drives a Bronco too. He pointed his out earlier when he brought it up, but I can’t see it from where I’m sitting. I bet you guys could talk about that if we decide to see each other again.”

Rooster stands up to get a better look out the window that faces the parking lot, “Well, that certainly is interesting, kid.” 

There’s a weird tone to his comment, but it isn’t one you are able to investigate further as Will returns back inside making his way to you.

You expect Rooster to go back to the rest of the squad, instead he makes himself comfortable on your other side. 

“That’s not a bad looking car, the Fuchs wheels are a nice touch, but I’ve seen better,” Will ignorantly gloats as he sits back down, pulling up photos of another car on his phone to show you. “It definitely doesn’t have anything on the 1975 Porsche 930 Turbo, with its single turbo flat-six and the flared rear wings. Now that beauty was made for speed.”

Mortified you glance to Penny hoping she didn’t hear any of that, but the stiffness of her spine tells you everything you need to know.

This obnoxious motherfu-

“Wow, that’s really something. Do you mind if I take a look, man?” Rooster asks pointing to Will’s phone before you can say anything in response.

“Yeah, bro. Go for it,” he says as hands his phone over, “Spotted that one at the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance last year.”

You watch as Rooster swipes half-heartedly through a couple of the pictures before catching Penny’s eye.

“Uh-huh, neat. Hey, Penny?” he calls to her, as he sets the phone down on the bartop. “That’s your 911 S out there, right?”

“Sure is, Rooster.” She confirms playing along as she rests an elbow on the polished surface in front of him, a knowing smirk already gracing her features. 

“Well then,” a conspiring grin takes over his face as he nods his head towards wood sign strung up between the taps, “I do believe we’ve had not one, but two violations this evening.” 

Penny sends a wink his way as she wastes no time ringing the bell loudly and for longer than usual, undoubtedly for the slight at her car’s expense. The action causing the raucous crowd to erupt in cheers.

Disrespect a lady, the Navy, or put your cellphone on my bar you buy a round.

Will is still trying to figure out what’s going on as Rooster leans across you pushing the phone slowly across the counter back to your date with two fingers.

His face suddenly very close to yours. You can see the warm brown starbursts that surround the pupils of his eyes. 

“Let’s go get those tacos, kid. Drinks are on him tonight.” 

You watch as he slides off of the stool, pulling out his keys from the back pocket of his light wash jeans. 

He makes it a few steps towards the door before turning back to you, “I’ll meet you at the Bronco. It’s the only one out there so you can’t miss it.” Giving Will a sharp, pointed look as he passes. 

Slipping on his aviators and swinging the fob around his index finger as he struts out of the bar.

Not too long later you’re sitting on the beach with the warm California breeze on your skin, laughing as Rooster tells you about the time during training when half his squad ended up cleaning their gear naked. The Al Pastor tacos you ordered tasting extra delicious for whatever reason.

Try as he might, Rooster could not stop watching you on your date with the guy Hangman had set you up with. 

And if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t trying at all. In fact, he was probably outright glaring and he didn’t give a damn. 

It was too loud in the bar to hear your laugh from where he sat, but he could certainly see you grinning at something this guy was saying to you.

Did you go shopping for this? The top you were wearing didn’t look familiar to him, he liked the way the straps were tied into pretty bows on your sun-freckled shoulders. Did you mean to look like some kind of a present waiting to be unwrapped?

It was clear to him that you were taking this whole thing more seriously than he ever thought you would.

“Jesus, Rooster. What gives?”  

“Huh, what?” he asked distractedly, his eyes remaining on you. He was barely paying attention to what was going on around him let along the game of pool he was supposedly playing with Hangman and Bob.

“Your leg, man. You’re about to set off the San Andres with all that shaking your leg is doing,” Jake says slapping him hard on the side of his thigh as he passes by to line up his next shot at the pool table. 

“Actually, San Diego sits on the Rose Canyon fault,” Bob corrects. 

“What is this, Jeopardy? That ain’t the point. What I’m trying to figure out is what’s got ol’ Rooster’s feathers in a ruffle over here.” His eyes calculating and his grin sharp.

Rooster hadn’t realized his leg was even bouncing up and down from where it was balanced on the foot rest of the high-top stool he was perched on.

What he did notice is that your date had gotten you a Michelob Ultra. 

You hated light beer. 

Who did this guy think he was just ordering you something without actually asking you what you wanted? Because there was no way in hell that you ordered that on your own. God, were these the type of men you were forced to put up with here in San Diego? He hadn’t even pulled out your chair for you, for fuck’s sake.

He could tell you were being polite by resting a hand on the base of the bottle, lifting it up like you were about to take a sip before remembering what was in your hand, and setting it back down again. 

He might as well have ordered you a water, at least you would have actually enjoyed that. 

The guy is massive and covered in questionable looking tattoos, in both quality and taste. Just like his choice of beer.

“Hangman, how do you know this guy again? What’s his name?” he asked, finally pulling his eyes away from you and your date.

“He’s a gym buddy, does those body building competitions,” Jake told him, probably for the second time that night based on the annoyance in his voice. “Really helped me to grow my pecs.” 

Why was he flexing instead of answering the goddamned question? 

“And his name?” he presses again, pushing his cue into Bob’s other hand officially done with the game. He pulls out his phone and sets to opening up a new tab on his browser getting ready to run a web search on the guy.

“Elijah, why?” 

“Elijah what? What’s his last name?” Rooster wasn’t sure what was so hard about this. For how much Hangman bragged about being the fastest pilot, he was really struggling to keep up.

“How am I supposed to know? We’re not that close, man. We share trainin’ tips, not life stories,” he lets slip. 

That would not work for him.

Downing the rest of his beer, tuning out the rest of whatever Seresin was saying to him as he stalks off to the bar. 

He’s just being a good friend he tells himself, since it was obvious Hangman hadn’t done enough due diligence when it came to you. 

Once there he orders another beer from Penny before rounding the bartop to where you sit with your back turned to him. He reaches out and plucks the room temperature Michelob Ultra out from your hand.

“Hey! What the-” he heard you start before turning to see him, “Rooster?” Your eyebrows pulled up in confusion.

“You’re welcome, kid,” he states concisely as he wraps your hand around the fresh, cold Blue Moon he had gotten for you instead. 

His fingers brushing the end of the long tail of the bow that danced along your arm as he pulls away, heading back to his vantage point by the pool table.

The pressure in his chest lessening now that you at least had a beverage you actually liked in your hands.

“What the fuck, man? That stunt better not have screwed with my chances of winning, they were clearly hitting it off. Did Phoenix put you up to this?” Jake complained, pointing an accusatory finger at him. 

Not bothering to reply, Rooster just waves him off as he watches you lift the bottle to your mouth, taking a sip for the first time that evening. A small smile on your face as you savor the flavor on your tongue.

Good. That’s good. 

He’s very pleased when he sees Elijah head out the door less than 10 minutes later. And downright smug when you settle yourself next to him with your Blue Moon in hand.

“Well?” Hangman presses, leaning on the cue stick in his hands, “How’d it go?” 

“It was going pretty well until he decided it was more important to lecture me about calorie content and muscle protein synthesis instead of just letting me enjoy my beer,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “So I told him we were probably on two different levels, and we decided to wrap it up for the night. I definitely heard him mutter something about needing a second pump session on his way out though. I hope he meant at the gym.” You scrunch your nose at that.

“Atta girl,” he smiles down at you as he bumps his shoulder against yours, watching as you blushed a little under the praise. 

“You all might as well just give me the winnings now, there’s no way any of you idiots are going to beat me. I hope you’re ready to have your feet swept out from under you, my guy is going to be your dream man,” Nat declares, her tone self-congratulatory.

And just like that, he wasn’t feeling so smug anymore.

Read Part 3 here!

I am so blown away by the response Part 1 got! Thank you all so much for reading and all your kind comments! I appreciate every single one of you!

Written as part of @roosterforme’s #Love Is In The Air TGM Fic Challenge! Please go check out the fics on the playlist! There’s some great things already posted!

Song Inspiration Sam Smith’s “Like I Can”.

Thank you Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) and Emily (@roosterforme​) for your all caps energy and for letting me spam you with ideas!

Taglist:

@sehnsuchts-trunken​ @top-hhun-main​ @itscheybaby​ @prettylittlelauraa​ @startrekfangirl2233​ @marantha​ @callsign-viper​ @teacupsandtopgun​ @itsizzythebell​ @winterrebel04 @shanimallina87​ @angelbabyange​ @boltgirl426​ @oneelleandaneye​ @mizzzpink​ @anony1080 @cornishkat​ @green-intervention @torres-espana​ @uzumegui​ @2guysonascooter @dont-talk-me-down​ @fandomunite2107​ @alana4610​ @20th-centu-fairy-girl​ @candid-confetti @pariahsparadise​ @pono-pura-vida​ @donttouchmycarrots​ @ebonyhogan24 @nina-sj​ @eg-dr3amer3​ @whaledots-blog​ @a-beaverhausen​ @misty-inferno​ @angellwingsss​ @hangmanscoming​ @mandolin22​ @theweekndhistorybook​ @lilpeekabooze​ @high-bi-imgonnacry​ @deeahhmaa @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @mrsdaamneron​ @ruewrote​ @spiderman-stilinski​ @jayniebop​ @melllinaa​ @my-soulmate-is-mycroft​ @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes​ @calsjack 

[vivwritescrappythings]

just love me and eat

vampire!eddie munson x reader

You watched Eddie die, so this must be some nightmare in your room.

tw: blood, biting, i think its gender neutral?

also just really loved Bones and All and the concept of cannibalism/vampirism as love so made this lil guy

word count: 2k

part two

masterlist

—

Your room was dark, the curtains pulled shut and the lights off. It had been a month since Eddie died and you didn’t have the energy to pantomime life without him. You had no sense of what time it was, every day simply becoming another day where he was gone and you were left unmoored. If it wasn’t for the sound of birds chirping and kids playing outside, you wouldn’t have guessed time was passing at all.

You didn’t sleep, you hardly ate. Nancy and Robin brought you food like offerings, using their keys to enter your apartment and leaving simple meals outside your bedroom door with soft knocks on the wood. Their little tupperwares were probably the only things keeping you alive–you knew Eddie would be upset if you wasted food on his account.

The Hellfire shirt Wayne had given you was soft and well-worn, but it hardly smelled like Eddie anymore. The familiar scent of tobacco and leather and the incense that he used to try to cover the stink of weed was fading, soon you wouldn’t be able to detect it at all under the sharp tang of your sweat.

Curled up in your comforter, you kept thinking about how it should’ve been you instead. Eddie would have known how to keep living, he would’ve been able to move on. You? You were just surviving.

Sleep threatened the edges of your vision, you’d been staring at the fuzzy polaroid photo you had propped on your nightstand. It was of you and Eddie at some party, he was smiling broadly at the camera with you tugged neatly to his side. Both of you held solo cups, your head rested on his shoulder like it was meant to be there.

It was your last good memory of him, before Chrissy Cunningham died and everything you ever knew fell to pieces.

—

Your dreamless sleep was interrupted by something tapping at your window. At first you thought—prayed—you were hallucinating it. Maybe it was just a lack of sleep accumulating to finally make you hear things. But it insisted, the knocking at your second-floor window was incessant enough that it managed to pull you from your bed.

The quilt came with you as you carefully crossed the room to your window, trepidation making you bite your lip before you finally pulled back the curtain. It was a quick motion, ripping off the band-aid with the expectation of seeing a woodpecker or a squirrel or something normal on the other side.

What you didn’t expect to see was your dead boyfriend in the moonlight.

You nearly screamed, your eyes widening into dinner plates as you clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise. It must’ve been a dream, or a nightmare. In your effort to get away from the window you tripped over discarded shoes on the floor and fell back onto your butt. Panicked, delirious tears roll down your cheeks as you start to roughly pinch the skin on your exposed thigh.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” you mumbled to yourself as you hyperventilated through the tears. It couldn’t be Eddie, Eddie was dead. He was in The Upside Down. You were never getting him back.

It was too late when you realized your window was unlocked, not-Eddie placing a palm flat against the glass to push it up. It was slow, you were too stunned to get up and try to close it. You were just outright sobbing on the floor of your bedroom, angry welts across your leg from where you’d been pinching at it almost hard enough to draw blood.

This Eddie looked different… he looked off. His eyes weren’t brown anymore: they were too bright, almost looking like a cat’s eyes in a photograph. Your window was fully open now, not-Eddie pitching himself through with a grace you’d never seen before.

“Did you miss me, baby?” he asked, his voice sounding the same as it used to. Your heart twisted, breaking into a million pieces—you’d dreamt of Eddie before, but never like this. His clothes were ripped and dirty, his battle vest in shreds along with the shirt beneath it. You could see the gnarled, twisting scars on his arms and his neck and parts of his torso through the shirt—everything the demobats had done to him.

He took in the state of your bedroom, appraising it with the careful eye of someone who had been there many times before. You kept crying into your hand, not able to catch your breath. Your head was spinning, part of you wanting to wake up from the dream as the rest wanted to stay asleep—you wanted to soak up time with any shred of Eddie you could have.

Not-Eddie took a few careful steps toward you, his not-so-white Reeboks softly hitting the ground as he crouched in front of you. He had his Hellfire shirt on under his shredded battle vest and leather jacket, blood and dirt and foggy black stains clinging to the fabric. The one Wayne had given you was an extra, something found in the back of Eddie’s closet.

“You… you’re dead,” you finally croaked, your voice cracking and raspy from disuse. The breath you took rattled in your lungs, the scent of earth and blood and something vaguely like tobacco filling your nose. “I watched you… the bats…”

It was rushing all back to you, the way you screamed when all the bats fell around Eddie. You and Dustin ran to him, watching him die in your arms. Steve carried you out of the Upside Down kicking and screaming.

Not-Eddie tutted at you, his yellow eyes roving over your form. They paused at your neck, at the hem of the Hellfire shirt against your thighs. Something inside you kept telling you to get off the floor and run, but you remained rooted to the spot.

“You really think some silly little bats could keep me away from you?” Not-Eddie asked, his head tilting. “Nothing could keep me from you. Nothing.”

His hands were freezing when they wrapped under your knees to drag you closer. Fat tears rolled down your face, stinging at your eyes and hot against your cheeks.

“This can’t be happening.”

Not-Eddie chuckled, his smile revealing perfectly white teeth. His canines and outermost incisors in the top row of his teeth were elongated, looking like fangs more than anything else. Your mind stuttered, frantically trying to keep up.

His hands were still on the backs of your knees, his gaudy costume rings cold against your skin. His calloused fingers pressed at the popliteal veins at the backs of your legs. If anything he seemed to be preoccupied with rolling them under his fingertips, tracing along them.

“Guess they weren’t normal bats, baby,” he muttered, rolling from crouching on his feet to kneeling between your legs.

Your breath hitched as he bent over you, one dirt-crusted hand pressing against the floorboards near your head. His long curls fell down around you, curtaining your dark bedroom from your view as your breaths became shallow. He was so close to your Eddie that you almost found yourself convinced.

He leaned down, nosing at your neck. Hot breaths huffed at the curve between your neck and shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he growled in a low voice, a large hand pressing to your sternum to pin you to the floor. He was so strong, it was like he had placed a weight on your chest.

“I’m so sorry,” you whined, your voice pathetic and soft. You stared up at the ceiling, your hands loosely tugging at his leather jacket. “I shouldn’t have let Harrington drag me away, should’ve stayed.”

He shushed you, pressing his nose to your skin and inhaling deeply. “S’okay, baby. You’ll make it up to me,” he mumbled, his voice seeming only partially present in the conversation. Not-Eddie’s lips pressed to your throat.

“Your heart is beating so fast… smells so good,” he groaned, licking up the side of your throat for a moment. “I’m starving, baby. You gonna help me?”

His voice was dripping with soft affection, like someone talking to a skittish wild animal. “Eddie…” you whined, your instincts screaming that something was wrong.

“Shh shh,” he mumbled, placing open mouthed kisses over your pulse point. His voice was broken, a desperation in it that you understood and recognized. “It’s okay... I just gotta eat, I’m so hungry. Haven’t eaten anything… wanted to see you first.”

Your head was spinning, the realization that this is your Eddie snapping into place like a sudden, infallible truth. Your heart was still pounding against your ribs like a hummingbird trapped in a cage. For the first time you felt like prey as Eddie kept you cornered against the floor. But he was still gentle, not taking what he easily could have.

“I love you,” you whispered, tears clouding your eyes. He was different, more monster than man, but this was Eddie. Your Eddie.

“Love you so much,” he said, his teeth scraping against your delicate skin. The words sounded like a prayer, like they’d been ripped from his chest. He seemed stuck, his muscles clenching as he traced his tongue and teeth along the thick vein in your throat. “Missed you.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “Eat, Eddie. S’okay,” you mumbled despite your instincts screaming at you to get him off of you.

“I know you’re hungry, let me help.” You tilted your head, pressing your throat to his teeth. A lamb to the slaughter. He stiffened at the action, fighting to keep himself under control. “Don’t want you to be hungry. Not anymore.”

The sound he made was like he got punched in the stomach. Eddie groaned, his fingers pressing into the floorboard hard enough to make the wood split. Your brow pinched, concern running through you. He still hadn’t taken action, not yet.

Your fingers threaded into the soft curls at the nape of Eddie’s neck, pulling his head closer. “You won’t hurt me, Eds. Just love me and eat.”

He grunted, the ghost of a nod coming from him as his nose bumped your neck. The pain of Eddie’s teeth sinking into your neck made you whimper. His hand moved from your sternum to caress your cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth soothingly. The sting faded to warmth, Eddie’s lips pressed firmly against your throat as he suckled at you.

After a while you could hardly keep your hand in his hair, so dizzy and tired that the back of your knuckles smacked against the floor. You felt like you were melting into it, vision doubling as your eyes crossed. Your breaths were shallow and slow. It was hard to think, your mind not able to even tell what time it was or how long it had been.

But your exhaustion was enough, Eddie pulled away. He lapped at the remaining blood on your skin for a moment before sitting back completely. You looked up at him with dizzy eyes, vaguely categorizing the way blood was smeared across his full lips and down his chin.

“C’mon, baby,” he said, gathering your loose limbs from where you’d sprawled on the floor. He seemed more himself now, his actions considerate and his voice back to its normal cadence. He lifted you in a smooth motion, carrying you to bed with a tenderness you remembered from him. He was so much stronger now.

After situating you on the covers, he removed his jacket and toed off his shoes. His body settled behind yours, making the mattress dip as he pulled your spine to his chest. You were fighting with every blink, trying to keep your eyes open for as long as possible. If this was a dream you didn’t want Eddie to disappear.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, I swear,” he said into your hair, his large hands smoothing along your waist and your bicep. The reassurance was enough for you to drift off, the blood loss pulling you toward unconsciousness. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”