#sorry these asks are taking longer than usual to answer

[siconetribal]

Sick Day

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Illness, feeling sick, alone, fluff, care

Request: I was hoping for a fluff/ comfort one shot fic with the reader suddenly gets sick and loki takes care of her

A/N:

This was a request made by an anon, and I'm hoping I did a good job. I'm sorry it took longer to post this than I anticipated. I hope you like it!

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

You can find this story and my other works on my master post.

Everything hurt, her body felt like lead with an intense gravitational force that kept her plastered to the mattress. A constant throbbing pain slowly pounding in her head, starting from the swollen pressure in your eyes to the rest of her cranium, which felt as if it were waterlogged. The room felt like an icebox, but her body was a furnace running at max, with fuel poured in to keep it blazing hot. The icky clammy sweat was the icing on the cake that made it clear that she was not ok, and would need to call out of work today.

Great, just what I needed on top of everything else. Y/N felt the sting of tears start. She wanted to wish them away or somehow distract herself, but she had not the energy or the drive. After a hellish week of mishaps and terrible luck, she was exhausted. And now, here she was laid up in bed in her apartment, unable to go to the one place that helped keep her hands and mind busy enough to not count the series of unfortunate luck she was having. A good cry could possibly be helpful, she deserved it. Taking a deep breath failed miserably as a series of bone rattling coughs left her more breathless than before and forced her to turn over. Her nose burned, and her sinuses were sealed off. Laying boneless on her mattress, she let out a low whimper. Added to her list of ailments was the inability to use her nose nor have a good cry. Forget icing, the icing ran the cake over with a bulldozer before catapulting it into the next galaxy.

Y/N grabbed her phone and dialed her boss. As much as it hurt to talk, she needed them to hear just how dead she was to know she was faking any of this. With the approval of her sick day, she rolled over and threw off her blanket before her hazy mind slipped back into the depths of sleep.

“What’s the matter, Loki? That’s the tenth time you’ve looked at your phone in the last hour.” Steve raised a brow at the odd behaviors of the odd royal that came to join them. He braced himself for a snippy remark, mentally reminding himself that any reaction would only encourage the ex-villain, but nothing came. He sat back and silently watched the prince. Had he not heard him speak?” Loki, is everything ok?” Still nothing. “Loki.” he called a little louder.

“What?” The younger prince finally looked up to see who was speaking to him. Normally he would show his disdain and reluctance, but that was not important right now. There was something more pressing on his mind that even the brown nosing of the super soldier meant little to him.

“Is everything ok? You keep looking at your phone.” Steve pointed to the device that was face-up on the table. The fact that it was on the table for all to see was a shock in and of itself, since everyone knew how much he disliked the device, considering it a leash for them to keep tabs on him only. 

“Hm, yes,” he absentmindedly mumbles the answer as his gaze fell to the device. He tapped it awake once more and frowned.

“Are you waiting on something?”

“Hm?”

“On the phone, are you waiting for some sort of communication?”

“The mission won’t be an issue. You needn’t worry so much.” Steve let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. Reaching over, he tried to grab for it, but Loki reacted faster. He snatched it off the desk and glared daggers at him, startling the New Yorker. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, you can, by answering what I’m asking you. You’ve been hung up on it for the last hour, and you never pay that much attention to it usually. What’s going on?”

“It’s a personal matter, none of your concern.” Loki coolly responded as he pocketed the device for safety. “If you’re concerned about the upcoming mission, you needn’t worry. I’m fully capable of focusing when required. If you’ll excuse me, I've got somewhere to be.” Before Steve could even respond, he was out of his seat and vanished from sight.

The Trickster reappeared in the legal department, walking down the halls until he reached a door with a name engraved into a plaque beside the door, with the title of a lead attorney just below it. Without even knocking, he walked in to see a young woman engrossed in a document on her computer screen.

“Leave the file in the bin, I’ll look at it later. Thanks, Ricky,” she waved to the mesh desk organizer that was already filled with other manila folders.

“Meredith, have you heard from Y/N?”

“Loki?!” She napped her head, shocked to see him. “How many times have I told you not to just appear in my office?”

“I didn’t, I walked in through the door. Now, Y/N, have you heard from her?” He pressed on, taking a seat without her invitation. Normally the annoyance that brought her was pleasant to him, but his focus was elsewhere. The normal treasures of his days were dull and meaningless, painted grey at the concern that gnawed at his mind.

“Y/N, no, not particularly, why?” She frowned, pushing her glasses up to rub her eyes. “Why do you ask, did something happen?”

“She has not answered my text. Granted, she is not always readily available, but she usually replies by noon. If anyone knows anything about her, it would be you.” His matter-of-fact town earned a small twitch from the lawyer.

“Let me check my phone,” she knew better than to argue with him, and Loki smiled in appreciation. He had little time to deal with menial things. Y/N was not answering him, and that was of the utmost importance. Y/N, she was a beautiful and brilliant young woman who found a way to thaw his icy heart and show him that he too deserved kindness and love. That he was not simply a monster because of what he had done. He was flawed, and it was perfectly fine to be flawed. If anyone were to ask him, saying he loved her was far too little. It barely scratched the surface of the many ways she brightened his world and brought color back into his life. It would take ages for him to count the various facets of her that made him smile and feel anything. She was his person, a far off dream that he had long forgotten.

“Yeah, she’s not picking up, one second.” Those words struck sharp and true, giving strength to the fear of the worst.

I have been extremely careful in my meetings with her to avoid any unnecessary attention. I doubt anyone outside of Meredith even knows of our relationship, since she is how we met. What if she came across a thug? Bank robbers infest this city like the rats. There’s a high chance there was some terrible driver who paid no attention in a fit of stupidity. Hasn’t she said that there have been stalkers? Mongrels that leer at any female? Once the thoughts started, they quickly poured out like floodgates ripped open. He watched Meredith as she spoke on the phone. He could see her mouth move, but his thoughts drowned out her voice. What if Y/N is hurt, and I am simply sitting her idly waiting for a text? His right leg began to bounce, the chair softly squeaking from the speed and force. 

“OK, she’s not at work,” he leapt from his seat. “But that’s ok. She is safe.” She quickly and firmly stressed, pausing to watch the words register. “She’s home sick for the day. According to what the boss said, she sounds pretty bad but,” before anymore could be said, Loki was gone in a flash. “She’s probably just tired.” She rolled her eyes at his lack of listening to what else she had to say. “Oh, thank you, Meredith, I’m so glad I came to you for help. Nonsense, Loki, it was my pleasure. She’s my dear friend, after all. Indeed, Meredith, had it not been for you, I would’ve never met her. Oh stop, it was a coincidence!” She grumbled out the imaginary conversation with herself as she put on her glasses as she got back to work.

A cool sensation earned a soft sigh of relief from Y/N. She had been warring with her body temperature on and off for several hours now, but she nothing seemed to work well or long enough. Whatever she had done the last time was clearly the right thing to do. What did I do again? Her sluggish brain tried to recall what she put on her forehead, but she was drawing blanks. Wait, that’s right, I didn’t put anything. She forced her heavy lids open, blinking a few times to get the function working properly. She notices the blinds were down, and her fan was oscillating on a low setting. Her comforter was off to her right, but a light blanket was over her body. 

She carefully reached up to feel a wet towel placed on her forehead and a basin with water was on her bedside. What caused concern was her desk chair. It was not beside her bed instead of across the room. Had she moved it in her feverish state of mind? She slowly sat up, her body groaning in painful protest. The world began to spin, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Breathing from her mouth, she tried to regain some stability.

“Darling, you should not be sitting up so soon. You need to keep the towel on your head.” The distant voice slowly grew louder as a pair of arms helped ease her back, but she resisted. There was only one person who called her darling, and she felt torn.

“No, I don’t wanna.” Y/N mumbled, leaning against him. “Loki, you shouldn’t be here, I’m sick.” She sniffled, one of her sinuses considering this the perfect time to drain itself. Great, I look disgusting, and he’s here to see it all! She tried to pull away, but his grip was stronger.

“Nonsense, whatever diseases you Midgardians carry has no effect on me. I am a Frost Giant, I lack the temperature necessary for such weak viruses to grow. Most importantly, you need someone, and I would be a fool to allow someone else near you in such a vulnerable state! Now, lean back against the pillows. I’ve brought some medicine from that shop a few streets down, and I’ve ordered your favorite soup. According to your precious internet, when someone is sick they must stay well hydrated, take proper medication, rest, and eat. You seemed to have been locked up in your room with no form of air circulation. So I did the best I could without opening your window and possibly worsening your pain.”

“You searched what to do online? On your phone? The ‘brick of uselessness’?” Y/N raised a brow at this sudden deluge of information. Equal parts shock and warmth pooling into her stomach, tugging a smile from her chapped lips. “You didn’t have to come here, it’s fine. I could’ve just ordered food and medicine from the app.”

“You could have, yes, I would never argue that. You are quite capable and very self-sufficient. You live in this tiny hovel and are well-fed through your dedication and hard work. There is no doubt in my mind about what you could have or would have done. I am here because you do not have to. You have me and I, for the first time in my life, want to do for someone else…for you, Y/N. I was a sick with worry when you never messaged me back, and when I learned of your falling ill, I came as quickly as I could. To see you here, so frail and alone, my heart felt as if it would twist right out of my chest. Majority of the day I wasted doing nothing while you were here, suffering alone. Please, do not turn me away. Let me help you, be of some use to you.” He lightly nudged the tissue into her hands.

“Ok,” she softly whispered. It was the only word she could think of saying. How long had it been since someone last cared so much for her? Worried about her and when out of their way to be here? And he even thought highly of her and her occupation, which everyone else probably thought nothing about. Even her own family made remarks from time to time about what a waste it was, or that she should simply marry and stay at home. It was nowhere near as grand as his, and yet he did not belittle her. Her eyes stung with tears that she blinked back and blew her nose.

“Thank you, love. Now, I am no physician, but I’ve managed to gather necessary medications for the most likely ailments you may have.” He pulled up a plastic shopping bag filled with all sorts of syrups and pills, a mix of brand name and store brand. The long receipt tumbled out as he fished through it, unfurling into a large mess beside him as he pulled out the necessary painkillers and fever reducers. An image of him standing in the aisles, seriously reading through every single item flashed through her mind and she giggled. He was about to open every single one of the boxes when her hands shot out and grabbed his.

“I don’t need to take all of those, that’d be a different issue of overmedicating. I’ll take some cough syrup and maybe one of the painkillers when I eat. Better to have something in case my stomach is a bit sensitive.” She explained, grabbing the brand she normally used.

“Is that so? No one said anything about that when I was looking online. If such a thing is possible, they should be more mindful and make it clear that everything can be dangerous to your kind.” Loki frowned, eyeing the bag suspiciously as she took it.

“Everyone knows it, so it’s not something normally.” Y/N lightly shook her head, wincing at the taste and pain from swallowing. “I just hope this fever breaks soon.” She leaned back into the pillows.

“Yes, they said a cold towel to the head would be useful, but perhaps I can offer something better?” She let her head roll to the side to look at him. There was a glimmer in his blue eyes, a glimmer that normally screamed danger, and he should be stopped at all costs. 

What could he possibly suggest that would be dangerous? I’m sick in bed anyway, not like I can physically stop him. “And your idea is?” She hesitantly asked, unsure if it was wise to given even this small inch of an opening. He remained silent, eyeing her for a moment before standing up from his seat. To her surprise, he untucked his shirt and undid the top two buttons before climbing onto the bed with her and wrapping her up in his arms. Alarm bells blared in her mind, screaming danger and telling her to run, but she was a deer caught in the trap with no way or nowhere to run.

“This, I will be your personal cooler until you feel better. It’s certainly far more efficient than a silly little towel, and I get to hold you. It is what you call a win-win. Ah, ah, before you protest, I do not get effected by the pathetic weak viruses of your race. Now, be a good girl and let me take care of you.” He pressed his lips to her temple.

The danger is him and to my heart! I’m going to be even more overheated than before! She quickly hid her red face from his sight. Perhaps my luck isn’t so bad after all. She snuck a peek at him to see his eyebrows furrowed together as he intently read the cough syrup information. I get to spend time with him. She smiled to herself as she rested her weight against his cooler body. “Best sick day ever.”

Tags: @queenofstarsign85 @vbecker10

[blckbrrybasket]

Run, girl, run

Artrick x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1k

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Art’s grandma comes over after you and Patrick spend the night

Art's grandma was the sweetest woman you'd ever known. She was the salt of the earth, raising Art to bring only kindness and love into the world. He always tried his best to please her, and for the most part he kept his soft heart even after starting college and while keeping Patrick around him. 

You balanced the two boys out. You kept Patrick in check, while also encouraging Art to loosen up a bit and enjoy his life outside of tennis. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, no longer bound by the rules of parent figures, urged on by your support. Most days with the three of you were like a dream, always helping the other to be the best they could be. Not that other people knew.

You all decided to keep your relationship private, not wanting outside judgments or prying eyes.

So no one else was aware, including Art’s grandma. Unfortunately for you, Art's grandma didn't always call before stopping by. She meant well, but her surprise visits meant quick texts from Art to make yourself scarce for the day. You always listened; even when Patrick begged you to mess with Art, you insisted on giving them space.

Maybe that’s why he got some sick satisfaction that Art's grandma had unexpectedly arrived for a visit while he was still half-dressed in Art's bed with you. The past night had been great, fucking until you were on the brink of exhaustion, and yet somehow Patrick was already energetic again in the morning. Art was usually a little slower to getting up, wanting nothing more than to drift back to sleep cradled in your arms.

However, the single knock on his door shattered the peaceful morning's atmosphere. Art groaned into his pillow, barely lifting his head to call out, “What?” A second of silence passed when his grandma’s sweet voice answered, “Art, sweetie? Is that you? I tried to call but I couldn’t wake you up.” She laughed softly, unaware of how fast Art shot out of bed.

He toppled over the side of the mattress, shoulder slamming into the thin carpet. Art hissed in pain, wasting no time when he popped back up. “Guys, you gotta go - now!” he whisper-yelled, shaking you awake. “Honey, are you alright?” Art winced at his grandma’s concerned voice. “I’m alright grandma!” Art replied, eyes darting between you and the door. 

His head swiveled back around to face you as you raised your head, blinking away the last traces of sleep to take in the scene. “Up!” You let out a silent sigh, looking around in confusion. Art was already moving on to scramble, grabbing the clothes off the floor. “What..?” You asked.

Patrick leaned over your bare shoulder with a wicked grin, having been silently awake for a while. “Art’s grandma is here,” he whispered in your ear with cruel amusement. He laughed quietly at Art’s frantic movements, your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose. You sat up with little urgency, the comforter rolling off your body. 

Art’s panic fell into background noise as Patrick slipped his shirt over you, giving you more coverage than just your underwear. A quick kiss silenced his mirth as you took in poor Art's panic. You turned away from Patrick when the sound of Art’s window opening drew you back to the present. 

Art came back into view, whipping around to face you with an expression full of worry. He grabbed your face for a desperate goodbye peck. “I'm so sorry,” Art apologized profusely, knowing there was no other way out than the window. You understood - there wasn't any other option with his grandma right outside the door. 

You shrugged, not caring all that much as you kissed him back, hands smoothing his curls down. “We get it,” Patrick mused. “You’re throwing us out like some hookups, no don’t worry,” he laughed as Art shoved his chest. “We get it!”

Patrick pecked Art’s cheek in an apology, ignoring his eye roll, before helping you to the end of the bed. His hand smoothly slid around your waist to guide you to the window. “Ladies first,” he said ‘gallantly’. Patrick watches you swing a leg over the sill as you snicker. “How chivalrous,” you goad.

Your hands find his, holding tightly as he helps lower you to the ground. It’s a gentle landing, greatly helped by Patrick who goes to follow suit the moment your feet find purchase. His landing is…a lot less graceful, shoved outside by Art. He could only hold his grandma off for so long, excusing that he was taking so long because he was simply getting dressed, deciding to hurry it along.

With a yelp, Patrick practically swan dove from the window, a mess of flailing limbs. He lands in a painful heap to the side of you, groaning. You could only sigh as you lent a hand to pull him upright once more. “Patrick,” you nearly whine in annoyance.

He wasn’t the last to come out though, your clothes raining down on him, adding insult to injury. “Seriously?” Patrick muttered, brushing himself off indignantly. You were all lucky that Art only lived on the first floor. 

Despite the exit, you couldn't help but laugh at Patrick's disheveled state, the window slamming shut after another apology from Art. Your giggles bubbled over as you freed him from the shorts caught on his ear and shoulder.

Patrick only huffed, bundling the clothes unceremoniously.  It was a rough start to the morning and you could see his thinly veiled annoyance. Wanting to lighten the mood, you leaned in for a quick kiss. His furrowed eyebrows softened some as his lips pressed to yours.

“Come on, first one back to my dorm gets head,” you challenged, lips brushing against his. Patrick's eyes lit up at the offer. In an instant, he gripped your hand and took off in a sprint across campus. You laughed with glee as the wind rushed past, any lingering stress melting away by your joint euphoria.

[trialbywombaat]

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Okay so I might not be able to commit to 171 sentences 😂 But I will for sure give you a good chunk 💖💖💖

He hesitates, trying to figure out how much Howie knows. He never technically came out to Howie, or anyone else at the 118. He'd relied on the LA first responder grapevine, the same one that had let him know that Bobby and Athena had gotten hitched; that Chim was engaged and had a kid. He settles on a vague-ish response and presses send. Not exactly what I was asking... He waits, and wonders if it takes longer for text messages to travel overseas. He doesn't know much about the science behind it, and he's never had much reason to look into it before, but maybe Evan would know. It seems like something he'd be interested in. If it doesn't take longer for text messages to travel overseas, though, Howie is being frustratingly slow. Probably for a good reason, but it's annoying nonetheless. He swipes out of his messages app and opens Instagram. He barely uses it, and only even has an account because an ex had convinced him to download it, but now he finds himself typing 'Evan Buckley' into the search bar and tapping on Evan's profile. It's only been a few hours, but already he'd started to wonder if he was exaggerating Evan's attractiveness in his mind. But looking at Evan's profile, at the endless supply of thirst traps and selfies he's posted, it's quickly apparent that Tommy hasn't misremembered a damn thing. Evan is exactly his type. His finger hovers over the 'follow' button. It wouldn't be weird to follow Evan, would it? They've already exchanged numbers, after all. Before he can tap the button, though, his phone buzzes again. A response from Howie. Not a particularly helpful response, though. It just says, ohhhh. He watches the three little dots appear and bounce around while Howie is apparently typing more, and he tries not to think about how much he cares about the answer. Finally, another message appears. Sorry man, but he is famously into women. Okay. That's okay. He won't deny the disappointment he feels settling deep in his stomach. He really had thought Evan was flirting with him. And usually his gaydar is pretty accurate. But he's not infallible. Part of him wants to argue that Evan could be into women and men. Maybe Chim just doesn't know about it. But the word 'famously' gives him pause. There's more to the story that Tommy doesn't know, so if Howie thinks Evan is straight, who is Tommy to disagree. He allows himself to feel the disappointment for a moment, to ride it out. But he isn't going to dwell on it. It's not the first time Tommy's been attracted to a straight guy, and it probably won't be the last. He knows how this goes by now. Maybe they'll drum up a decent friendship, and Tommy will have someone to watch Fight Club with when they're back in LA. Or maybe they'll drift apart, and five years from now they won't even remember each other's names. And even if it seems to hurt a little more this time, if he can't seem to get Evan's face out of his mind, it's probably just because they've spent so long together already. Because he'd sat there for five hours refusing to move for fear of waking Evan, of losing the warm pressure of his head against Tommy's shoulder, and he'd imagined what it might be like to wake up like that every morning. So it might take him a little longer to move on than usual. But he'll figure it out. He allows himself one last look at Evan's instagram before he tries to get some sleep. A goodbye of sorts. At the top of Evan's profile he sees a notification that's just popped up. Buckaroo_Buckley_ wants to follow you. He has no choice but to follow back.

[shiningclown69]

This one too

YESSSSS I LOVED THIS MOMENT SO MUCH

Even tho i have yet to watch past 15 minutes of this movie

The way he just smirks knowingly...and Riven's annoyance....

AND THEN BRANDON PROCEEDS TO POINT AND LAUGH AT HIM 😭😭😭 AND ENCOURAGE OTHERS TO JOIN HIM

Riven....🥺🥺🥺little angry man

That moment where the girls go "oooh!" at Riven scowling at them and then his expression softens...and Brandon puts an arm over his shoulder is rly good too 😳 (i hope im not remembering this wrongly)

[i-am-jean-descole]

is that- a bite mark on your shoulder?

"I created a device that would mind control wolves. During development it unfortunately malfunctioned and one of the wolves bit me."

[sleepyjuice]

toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.

you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.

rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something

rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with

rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t

rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK

rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.

rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.

you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.

three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.

you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.

sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe

you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.

you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.

rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)

you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too

rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby

you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.

[inkedbybarnes]

unclear

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.

i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?”

wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.

although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.

"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"

"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.

"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."

you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.

but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.

"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"

wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.

the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.

although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.

after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.

considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.

he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.

"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.

"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"

you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.

your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.

"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"

"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"

before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."

and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."

you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.

you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.

it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.

"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"

"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."

"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"

friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.

your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.

with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.

your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.

"ah, fuck."

you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.

"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"

you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"

your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.

"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"

"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"

"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."

"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."

"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."

"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."

oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.

"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."

you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.

"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."

"bucky..."

"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."

"even if i ask for your arm?"

he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"

"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.

"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."

his girl. you loved hearing that.

"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.

"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"

"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."

"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."

"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.

"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"

you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"

he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."

your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.

"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."

bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you to the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"

you smiled. "like the old times."

in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.

"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.

"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."

"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.

"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."

bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.

and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.

a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[omgeto]

✩ — 4:21am

summary: gojo satoru is a man of his word, and no matter what, he always promised to come home to you.

cw: minor angst, fluffy ending (I PROMISE) this is for all you sad hojoes out there that just want your man home all in one piece.

gojo satoru is a man of his word, and no matter what, he always promised to come home to you. you didn't actually think much of it, until one night, you awake in panic feeling that something's off. you are used to falling asleep as you wait for gojo to come home, but when you check the time and realise that it was later than usual, anxiety gnawed at your heart.

the clock on the bedside table mocks you with its relentless ticking. each passing second only intensifies your unease. you reach for your phone and check for messages or missed calls, but there's nothing. gojo hasn't contacted you since the last heated argument you had before he left for his mission. it's been hours since then.

you can’t even remember what you fought about, it was something trivial, him forgetting to put the milk back in the fridge, or not putting down the toilet seat—it was dumb. it hurts you even more now that the things you were just berating him for a few hours ago, you were begging for him to come back and do one more time.

fighting back the growing panic, you try calling him. his phone rings, but there's no answer. of course there wouldn’t be you knew that he doesn’t use his phone when he was out, but you just had to try, hoping that he’d sent a quick text to say he was just around the corner—but there was nothing.

you couldn’t help but conjure up terrifying scenarios about him. what if he’s injured? what if he’s been chopped up into little pieces and he’s in pain? wanting to call you and he can’t.

you can't stay still any longer, pacing back and forth in your dimly lit apartment. your thoughts are a jumbled mess, and you can't shake the feeling that something terrible has happened. the world outside is quiet, and the darkness feels suffocating. 

your mind wanders to the first time you met him, he was persistent immediately when he first laid eyes on you, claiming that he would stop at nothing to get to be with you. and that was true. you wouldn’t give him the time of day, at first, but whenever you were around him doing your ‘hard to get routine,’ he put in extra effort just to get with you.

there wasn’t anyone you could even ask to see if he was okay, since if he wasn’t, who else would be? and there’s a part of you that wouldn’t even want to know, you had to see him, alive and well for all your worries to be gone.

as the minutes drag on, each one feeling like an eternity, you cling to thoughts of him, each memory acting as a lifeline. there wasn’t even any indication that something bad happened to him, but there is something unsettling that you just couldn’t shake.

you could feel him before you could even hear the faint tapping at the door. there isn’t any hesitation as you bolt to the door, dragging a weak standing gojo into a tight hug only pulling away as you hear him softly wince at your heavy touch.

“sorry,” he murmurs, standing with his arm clutching at his lower stomach, slightly hunched over, “i lost my keys.”

“you lost your keys?” you practically yell, “that’s what you wanna focus on right now?” you ask as you look at his injured body. this is the worst you’ve ever seen him, and you could tell that he was in pain from the way his usual breezy smile, isn’t reaching his eyes like it normally does.

you quickly usher gojo inside, supporting him as he limps toward the couch. the dim living room lights reveals a deep gash on his face, and his clothes are torn and stained with dirt and blood. 

“take off your shirt,” you order, your face filled with concern as you try and properly assess all his injuries.

“aren’t you gonna buy me dinner first?” he jokes, cringing as you remove his shirt from over his head, trying not to hurt him further.

“this isn’t the time for jokes ‘toru,” you chastise, shaking your head to prevent yourself from getting emotional, “y’know i really thought that—” you sigh, not even wanting to utter the words, since it doesn’t matter as he’s here now, alive.

“i can’t even lie,” he starts, his eyes staring down, avoiding yours. “for a moment out there, i didn’t know if i could live up to my promise to you.” you couldn’t even respond, the fact that gojo could even admit that there was a chance that he wasn’t gonna get back to you, had you panicked.

“c’mere,” he says pulling your into his lap, noticing the stressed expression that has yet to leave your face.

you were quick to jump off of him, but he kept you firm in his hold, his arms wrapped protectively around you. despite the pain he must have been in, his eyes held a mixture of relief and vulnerability as he looked into yours. “satoru you’re hurt.”

but he gave you a reassuring smile, one that couldn't quite hide the pain etched on his face. "i'm okay, really," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “i just need you close right now."

as you settled back into his embrace, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips, reassuring you that he was indeed alive and home with you, where he had always promised to be.

AN: SO GUYS HOW DID I DO? im not really a drabble or fluffy girlie, as you guys know. but um tada... this is for you all. love ya. If there’s mistakes in there it’s 6am so ignore em please IF THIS IS SHIT THEN IM SORRY I TRIED. But as long as one gojo lover says “emp you’ve mended my little heart” I can die happy

[melancholyhigh]

ALL MINE.

ft. leon x f!reader

synopsis. you realize you're in love with your roommate. it sucks that he's ignoring you all of a sudden.

content. 4.7k words. smut. slight jealousy/possessiveness, subby leon, dry humping, handjob, finger sucking, praise & degradation kink, unprotected p in v (riding), overstimulation, creampie, slight subspace.

note. i had mental anguish while writing this so i apologize if it's not my best. i'm also sorry for being so inactive :((

masterlist. i love feedback & reblogs <3

Leon S. Kennedy was probably the best roommate you could’ve asked for.

He had fit the criteria you hand conjured for the perfect housemate the first time you met. Leon was calm, and the apartment was pretty clean. From what you can tell, he cared enough about himself and his surroundings. 

Hell, the place looked almost uninhabited save for some trinkets and a few bits of his personality sprinkled about.

Only if you had known what you were getting yourself into when you had agreed to become his roommate.

–-

The first month of residing with Leon was great. You rarely crossed paths and never really communicated with each other due to how stressful looking for a new job was, and then proceeding to attend said job was tiring enough for you to make little social interactions.

He was relatively closed off as well. Not talking to you unless necessary or common courtesy such as a simple ‘Good morning.’

After you settled in, you noticed how much of a strange man Leon was. For one, when he did go to work, he left for weeks at a time, and in his return, he was even more closed off somehow. Leon doesn’t spare you a glance or a greeting, only grunting if you ask if he is alright.

He’s also covered in bruises and bandages, leaving you more concerned.

It made you question who really was your roommate.

In the first meeting you and Leon had, you inquired about his job, mostly to try and figure out how your schedule would work, but also with genuine interest. At the time, he merely shrugged, not answering your question point blank, telling you not to worry about it. 

He mentioned his past job as a police officer. You’d dare to ask him more about it, but you didn’t want to pry, leaving the questions for another day.

Lately, you’ve been wishing more than ever that he had answered the question instead of dodging it. In rare moments that you focus on anything else but your job, it often leads you to think about Leon and what he does while he’s away.

It annoys you too that he doesn’t tell you when he’s leaving. He doesn’t owe it to you, but some nights you think he’s getting a drink, only to return a few days later bloodied and bruised.

One night, your overthinking got the worst of you after Leon returned to your apartment in the worst condition you’ve seen in the past few months you’ve been living with him.

Up late, you were in the shared living room, wondering when he’d get home. It had been two weeks since you had last seen Leon. It was way longer than his usual business days. You had been worrying nonstop, not getting a wink of sleep. Was he dead? You’d be the first suspect on the list.

You had called him multiple times, all going to voicemail. That is until you heard the faint creaking of the front door. There he walked in, faced all fucked up. His lip busted, sporting ugly yellow and purple bruises all over the exposed flesh of his body, and a bandage wrapped around his left hand blotted with dry blood.

He was awkwardly shuffling into the room, trying not to wake, you presume. A bit late for that. 

“Where the hell were you, Leon?” your voice breaks the early morning silence. 

You see him jump slightly in surprise, almost dropping his bag. A different emotion washes through him. A mix of fright and guilt, it’s different from what you’re used to seeing him with.

Leon quickly composes himself, going back to his stoic expression. Taking his shoes caked in mud off at the front door, resting his bag down, he walks over to the kitchen opening the fridge. The light streams out, illuminating the kitchen as you follow him, awaiting an answer.

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it?” His back is turned to you, rummaging through the contents of the fridge.

“You’ve been gone for two weeks,” you stress with exhaustion, eyeing his injuries. “What the fuck happened to you.”

He flexes his broad shoulder before turning around to face you. His gaze pins you down before he’s back to ignoring you as he chugs the cold bottled water in his grasp. The fridge is still open, and it adds more nuisance within you.

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugs. He finally shuts the fridge close, only the moon’s light filtering into the room. “Why do you care, anyways?”

“‘Cause when you go missing, I’ll be the one locked up, Leon,” you say. He’s staring at you, trying to suppress a smirk. 

“You sure it’s not ‘cause you like me? I’m here to stay.” Is this fucker teasing you? He’s nothing like you first met him. Maybe it’s the blood loss. But to be fair, this is the first proper conversation you’ve had with him in months — you didn’t know how he actually was. 

Rolling your eyes, you ignore him, shifting your focus to his bandaged hand, blood seeping through the fabric. 

“Let me take a look at that, please,” you urge, taking his hand into yours. You overlook the questions blooming in your mind to tend to his injury.

“Okay.”

You turn the lights on, searching for a first aid kit. Once you retrieve it, you’re back in front of Leon, who’s sat patiently at the dining table. 

You roll the sleeves of your sweatshirt up before carefully peeling the fabric sticking to his bloody skin. The large gash on the back of his hand makes you uneasy. It’s deep, almost to the bone, and blood spills onto his pale skin.

“Your stitches reopened,” you tell him, cleaning the wound with a damp cloth. What did he do to warrant such an injury? “If it worsens, you need to go to the hospital.” 

“Mhm, you work with patients?” You shake your head, wrapping the wound with fresh gauze. 

“What’s your job, then?”

You scoffed, “Some office job. What’s got you busy, huh?”

“Some government bullshit.”

–-

That night the relationship you had with your roommate shifted. For the better, you supposed. 

You also bonded better with him the following morning while driving him to the hospital. He was so dramatic, yet he continued to undermine his clearly serious injury, refusing to go. The bleeding had not stopped, and you were worried it could get infected.

He was such a baby. You had bargained with him for his own health, promising to do his chores for a whole month so his hand doesn’t get amputated. 

You never really did figure out what his job was, but you guessed it was most likely confidential. It was a vague answer to your question. He could be lying, but once you’re not behind bars, you can’t complain.

You and Leon spent more time with each other.

Even though you had no idea what his job was, he did tell you why he couldn’t disclose such information, something along the lines of putting your safety in jeopardy. Wasn’t him as your roommate just as dangerous? But you didn’t bother. He had his reasons.

Leon, on the other hand, probably learned too much about you and your job. 

You weren’t familiar with the city or the people, so it was nice to talk to someone, and you may have gone overboard. You were here for a better quality of life, and it was significantly better than where you previously lived. 

You loathed your job. Your co-workers were so condescending and passive-aggressive. Not to mention, you couldn’t quit. It paid enough for you to shut your mouth. Well, not to Leon.

You’re sure he’s sick of you talking and complaining. And when you’re not complaining, you both still get along about other stuff. You mostly banter, though, because Leon is such a child.

The guy can barely care for himself, contradicting what you initially thought about him. You care for him most nights after his so-called ‘missions.’ You rebandage his wounds, scolding him for not caring about himself while he’s looped up on pain meds.

Any other night — when he’s actively not trying to get killed, and you’re not incredibly busy — you both get drunk to attempt to forget about responsibilities. Often you were spouting drunken, nonsensical rambles as Leon somehow listened to.

Ironically enough, Leon cared about your well-being more than you do. Maybe you’re delusional, but you swear he does more than a normal roommate should. It’s because you’re constantly checking up on him, you reasoned. He’s just a respectable person.

But what kind of roommate consistently asks about how you’re going? What roommate get you your favourite takeout when you’re not feeling your best? What roommate threatens to beat the shit out of your annoying co-workers?

But you’ve acknowledged that Leon wasn’t your average housemate. Not just his job, but who the fuck looks that good when they’re bleeding out?

–-

Your job has a celebration upcoming, the company’s 50th anniversary. You barely made it a year working for the place, but you want to make a good impression. You also don’t want to bore yourself to death, so why not coerce your lovely roommate to join you as your plus one?

“I’m not gonna go. Don’t you hate that place?” You stare up at him, sulking. 

“Good impressions,” you say before pleading, “C’mon, Leon, please. We can go to the bar after.”

He gives you an unimpressed look before turning away from you.

“I’ll pay for you.” You’re going to go broke because of this man. It catches his attention. 

“So desperate,” he chuckles.

“You’re going?”

“I’m gonna run you dry.”

–-

You definitely weren’t prepared to see Leon in a suit when you exited your room. He’s sat on the couch, his hand nervously running through his hair — notably slicked down with gel. 

“You that serious about making me go bankrupt?” You voice jokingly, breaking Leon out of his thoughts.

His eyes trail along your body, admiring the dress you wore — how it hugs the curves of your body — noticeably gulping as he stands up. The black suit fits his body, accentuating his broad physique and nice ass.

“I keep my promises. I hope you do too.” He says, before mumbling, “You look nice as well.”

You smile at him, ignoring the unusual feeling blooming in your stomach.

The event was indeed incredibly bland. You’re glad you bribed Leon into joining you. He’s been your saving grace. His sly quips and awful jokes have made the experience increasingly more bearable.

Your enjoyment seemed to fizzle when your co-workers wanted to converse with you. They never did before. Why would they now?

Then you realize too late that they’re not here for you. They’re there for the attractive male next to you. You watch in amusement as the girl blatantly ignores you in favour of Leon.

She’s sweet, you’d imagine, but Leon looks awkward, and there’s an uneasy feeling bubbling in your gut as she squeezes his arm in a flirting manner. The feeling is unlike what you’ve felt earlier.

You could go for a drink right now. 

The poor girl’s attempt at seducing Leon goes on longer than you’d like. He’s uncomfortable, and you admire her persistence, but it’s getting on your nerves.

Didn’t she get the memo? He’s your plus one.

You decide to interrupt their conversation, you’re not particularly proud of it, but you want to get drunk. Maybe you’re doing Leon a favour as well.

You pull him away, not offering an explanation, just the promise of getting wasted. 

When you’re at the bar, you both get settled, conversing and taking shots, all on you, of course.

Leon mentions that he understands why you hate your job and colleagues, and you laugh lightly at his claims. While you two talk, a few guys approach you, trying to get your number or asking to buy you a drink, ignoring Leon.

It wasn’t a usual occurrence, but it happened more often than not. And even though you find it flattering, it did begin to irritate you.

You politely declined their requests with an uncomfortable smile on your lips. It felt wrong to indulge in their proposals in front of Leon.

Leon’s eyes gleam with an unknown emotion as another guy approaches you. His grasp on the glass tightens, and it looks like it's about to shatter.

You once again deny the request. As you get more tipsy, your filter worsens as you half-heartedly refuse the poor guy. He walks away, visibly irritated. 

“That’s the fifth guy to ask for your number,” Leon states, taking a swig of his whiskey. His grip on the glass loosens, but his shoulders are still tense. 

You roll your eyes at his over-exaggeration. His suit’s jacket is off, revealing the white button-up shirt underneath. 

“I wasn’t interested. A few girls asked you out, too,” you declared bitterly. You’re not drunk per se, just very tipsy. 

“They’re not my type.”

“What’s your type?” Taking a sip from your drink, you observe Leon shake his head before downing his glass.

“Having fun?” you inquire, and Leon’s grateful you changed the topic.

“Liquor’s better when it’s free.”

–-

It’s the next day, and you haven’t seen Leon since. 

When you woke up, you had a pounding headache. You walked into the kitchen expecting to be greeted by an equally shit-faced Leon, but he was nowhere to be found. It was unlike him.

Usually, he’s already making fun of you for being a lightweight, and you attempt to make breakfast together. He’s probably still in bed. He did drink more than expected. It was a miracle you both got home in one piece.

You took some painkillers before heading back to bed. If you’re up to it, maybe you’ll make breakfast later. 

A few hours have passed, and still no sign of Leon. You wonder if he went to work, but that didn’t make sense. Why would he go to work with a hangover? Leon was a bit careless, though.

He was most likely ignoring you. That would be the last thing you wanted. He was the only person you cared to talk as pathetic as it sounds. Did you say something last night that upset him? He was his usual self, but you probably were too drunk to notice something off.  

He probably has work-related things to worry about. Not everything was about you. Though, you were still concerned.

You had camped in the kitchen for a while, waiting for Leon so you could confront him. You wanted to make sure he was alright.

When he did enter the kitchen, you tried to start a conversation, only for him to dismiss you entirely. He refused to respond to your troubles, getting what he needed and returning to his room. 

You thought it was a one-off thing, but sadly it wasn’t. Leon ignored you the following days, leaving you perplexed. You wished Leon would talk to you about what’s going on. Isn’t that what friends do? Communicate? Every attempt you tried to make was fruitless.

All he’s been doing was ignoring you, and it broke your heart.

His sudden indifference reminded you of when you first moved in. This abrupt disinterest in you left you staring at the ceiling in your bedroom, reflecting on your relationship with Leon. 

You despise how he’s been acting lately. 

You despise his reckless behaviour. You despise his hair that falls so perfectly. You despise how considerate he is. You despise how sweet he is to you. You despise how attractive he looks when he walks about the place shirtless, in short shorts that barely contain the flesh of his thighs and lay low on his hips when he’s sweaty after working out.

You despised how other girls looked at Leon. You despised how other guys looked at you, wishing it were him.

But you don’t hate him, far from it.

You loved his company. From the first night to the night at the bar. You wouldn’t want him to share that with anyone else. He was familiar, so it hurts that he’s been ignoring you. 

He’s treating the moments you’ve had with him seemingly worthless, the time you’ve shared — the late nights when you cared for him. The insecurities you have confided with him. Did it mean anything to him?

He most likely wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you doubt he could. His job explains itself, but you’re still worried as a friend — as his roommate.

Your overthinking has got the best of you, and fuck it. You’re going to confront Leon, whether he likes it or not.

–-

You’ve been building the courage to knock on his door for 20 minutes, pacing back and forth in front of his room door. You didn’t want to make him hate you more, but his bitchy attitude made you wonder why you even liked him in the first place.

Knocking on his door, you instantly regretted it, not wanting to make a fool of yourself, but you had to face him sooner or later. The door surprisingly opens, presenting you with a tired Leon dressed in nothing but his boxers. You probably just woke him up.

When you meet his soft gaze, his brows furrow, and he scowls. It’s been a while since he’s looked at you, so you can take what you can get. 

“What do you want?” Leon dully asks, crossing his arms over his bare chest as he leans on the door’s framing. Okay, so he’s talking to you after a week of silence, granted, not like he used to, but it’s something.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” you counter bluntly, glaring at him. His facade crumbles, shoulders dropping as he frowns. He quickly recovers, scoffing and looking anywhere but at you.

“What are you talking about–” 

“I’m not a dumbass, Leon. Just why? Are you okay?” you quickly cut off his poor excuse of a response. He shakes his head, his messy hair concealing his eyes as he tries to reply.

The look you’re sending him gives him goosebumps as if you’re reading him with just a glance. You are, and it’s terrifying yet so arousing that you can do so easily. Your eyes don’t leave him, trying to figure out his problems. It’s equally arousing how much you care for him, looking through him like he’s glass. 

His composure crashes, stuttering an answer you’re unable to pick up. You stare at him, confused at his sudden nervous behaviour. 

Leon’s selfish for wanting you all to himself. He doesn’t want to hurt himself with the rejection that you may throw his way. He doesn’t want to feel like that even though your actions say otherwise. He wants to tell you that, but what he says is much more pathetic.

“God, it’s you,” he repeats. The look of disappointment that crosses your face hurts. It hurt that he’s the one that made you look so broken so quickly.

“What?” Your voice falters, but you’re curious despite the ache in your chest. You’re not surprised. Maybe, a bit shattered.

“Not like that. I mean, fuck, I don’t know how to say this.” He awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he tries to formulate his words, a blush dispersing on his pale cheeks. 

“I was fucking mad, okay? Not at you– never at you. I hated how those guys looked at you. I know I shouldn’t feel like this. You’re my roommate, for fucks sake, but–” He continues to ramble on, and the words he spews give you whiplash. 

You’re simultaneously flattered by his words and pissed. He was acting like a prick because he was jealous. As much as you were annoyed by his immature behaviour, you couldn’t ignore the butterflies swarming your stomach.

You impulsively crash your lips into his. He stops his rambling, startled, before melting into the kiss, his long lashes fluttering close. His plush lips move softly against yours. The kiss is soft and much better than either of you could’ve imagined.

Pulling away from him, you catch your breath, huffing, “You dumb boy.”

His cheeks darken in colour, the blush leading to the expanse of his chest. He grips your hips, tugging you closer to his body. You feel his dick hardening in confined in his boxers, pressed to your lower stomach.

“Fuck,” Leon gasps softly. You tuck strands of hair behind his ear, your nose bumping together as you admire his pretty face.

“All that from a little kissing?” you breathed against his bruised lips, your fingers toying with the waistline of his boxers. “You want me to help you, baby boy?”

“Yes, please.” 

You frown, moving away from his hold. His face falls, his brows furrow in confusion as he pouts. “C’mon, Leon. You really think you’re going to get to cum that easily after ignoring me?”

“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please touch me. I– I’ll be your good boy,” he pleads, moving back closer to you, wrapping his arms around your midsection. 

“Okay, sweetheart. You’ll get to cum if you behave.”

He captures your lips in a quick kiss, moaning softly before pulling away. He takes your hand, leading you into his bedroom, and you observe the new surroundings. Even though you’ve been roommates for nearly a year, you never saw the inside of his room. Posters of bands you weren’t familiar with were on the walls of his room. 

“On the bed, baby,” you coo, and Leon shuffles on the navy blue sheets of his bed, leaning against the headboard. You crawl onto the soft sheets, straddling him as you seat yourself on his plush thighs. His warm palms shoot to rest on your waist, softly squeezing them.

He tugs you closer to him, pressing your chest flat against his. Leon gasps softly, his nipples rubbing against the coarse fabric of your tank top.

“S’much better than I imagined,” he sighs, guiding your hips so your clothed cunt drags along his prominent bulge. He groans, feeling your cunt dripping, soaking through your panties and shorts. 

You move back from him, halting your movements on his hardening cock as you’re sat on his thighs once more. Your hands grip his arms, and even though he’s stronger than you, he ceases his motion. It’s so fucking hot how this huge man submits to you. 

“You’ve thought about me in your lap?” you tease, palming his erection through his boxers. The head leaks precum, staining the delicate fabric. “Playing with your pretty cock?”

“Mhm,” he whines softly, bucking his hips to your warm touch. His head tilts back, knocking the wooden headboard quietly as he writhes at your touch. 

“Ohh, you poor thing. Cummin’ in your hand wishing it was mine,” you mock, pulling Leon’s boxers down to reveal his throbbing dick flushed pink. It aches for your touch, twitching and smearing his precum on the dark curls on his happy trail.

“Fuck, yes.” Leon whimpers when you wrap your digits around his cock, squeezing it, oozing more precum, coating your fingers as you stroke him slowly. His hips eagerly thrust to meet your movement.

“So, so pretty.” The blush on his cheeks somehow deepens at your words. His head is spinning, and not just from your touch. He roughly grips his silken sheets, bunching them up. You thought he was pretty?

“God, baby, you’re the prettiest.” 

Fuck, had he said that out loud? 

His back arches as he nears his orgasm, pleasure rushing through his body. His thighs tremble as he spills his cum, coating your hand. You don’t stop tugging on his weeping cock, living for the little cries he makes from being overstimulated.

“Don’t, m’ sensitive– shit,” Leon whines, and you finally take your hand off his spent dick, admiring his cum dribbling onto your fingers. Leon props himself up, chest heaving as he tries to collect himself.

“Did I say you could cum?” you tease. Leon’s eyes widen for a second before pleading for forgiveness.

“I- I didn’t mean to. God, I’m so sorry. I’ll be your good boy.” He sniffles softly, and you take pity on his cries. You’ll punish him another time.

“It’s okay, honey. Can you open wide f’me?” you say. Leon does as he’s told, parting his lips and sticking his tongue out. You wished you could take a picture. 

You place your index and middle finger on his tongue, pressing down. Leon wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking his cum off them. Moaning softly, he peers up at you through his lashes and gags when you push your fingers further down.

“You’re such a slut, Leon,” you say, pulling your fingers out his mouth, lips slicked with his spit. You flicked his nipples, causing him to moan loudly. His cock is beginning to harden once more.

“I’m your slut.”

“Think you can go one more round, baby?” you asked, hovering over his rock-hard cock, before sinking down. Your drenched pussy through your thin shorts stimulates his overly sensitive dick, and he groans softly, squeezing your waist.

“Wanna take care of you too, angel,” he murmurs into your ear as you grind yourself onto his erection. “Can I eat you, please?”

“Maybe next time, honey.”

“Fuck, okay. Can you kiss me?” You press your lips to his softly, and he whimpers sweetly into your mouth. Pulling away from him, you take your shorts and panties off, and they’re fucking drenched. Leon tugs your tank top off, and you giggle at his eagerness.

Your body, so soft and warm, is pressed against Leon’s. It’s almost enough to make him cum, and he’s not enough inside you yet. You slide your dripping cunt along his shaft, ensuring he’s fully hard. Leon fucking whines each time the tip of his cock nicks your entrance, begging to plunge in.

Every time the tip nudges your clit, your cunt clenches, and each flutter sends his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Please, angel. Fuck me. Use me– I don’t care. ‘M all yours.” You guide his cock to your entrance before finally sinking down slowly. The tip enters you with a soft moan. He’s so fucking thick. Once fully sheathed in you, you grip his shoulders for support.

“You’re all mine to use, right? F- Fuck, you’re stretching me so good, Leon.”

Your tight walls hug him so tightly, and when you bounce on his cock, each drag of his sensitive dick adds to the building pressure in his tummy. He filled you so good, reaching spots you didn’t think were possible as you used him like your toy.

Leon thrusts his hips to meet your pace, your ass slapping his thighs, making obscene sounds. He can’t get enough of you. From your tits bouncing as you rode his cock, or the expression you hold when he hits that special spot. 

It’s so much better than he has imagined.

He rubs your clit with his thumb, a broken whimper leaving him when your gummy walls clench around him tightly. The pressure in his tummy was rising, and you were no better as he played with your clit.

“‘M so close, sweetheart. Can I cum in you, please?” he pleads, his hips stuttering to meet each of your moves. His pink lips parted, eyes barely stayed open, and he looked utterly ruined.

“Yes, baby.” You trail kisses along his neck, sucking marks along the column of his throat. You’re pleased with yourself that you’re the reason he has those marks now. Each bruise you suck on his flesh adds another butterfly to his tummy. He’s all yours now.

“Cum with me, please.”

After a few more thrusts, the pressure within him bursts he cums inside you, filling you with his warm seeds. You climax along with him. Your cunt spasms around his sensitive cock, gushing its arousal, clinging to his happy trail.

You collapse on top of him, your head falling on his shoulder. Leon kisses the top of your head, nuzzling into your hair. You try to get off to clean yourself and Leon up, but arms encircle your waist, preventing you from doing so.

“Stay with me, sweetheart. Don’t want you leaving.”

You comply, laying with him, your skin, sticky with sweat and cum, clings to his as you both enjoy each other’s embrace.

[hintsofhoney]

Mine

Paring(s): Alpha!Dean Winchester x F!Omega!Reader

Summary: When Dean is forced to mark Y/N in order to not blow their cover on a case, it leads him to reveal a secret that he's been keeping since they met.

Square(s) Filled: biting for @anyfandomkinkbingo

Tags: 18+, true mates, smut, p in v, marking, a/b/o if that wasn't already obvious lmao, knotting

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Helloooo, it's been a minute. If I'm being honest, I have about 10-15 finished works just sitting in my "ready to post" folder, but posting is always such an ordeal, so they just stay there until I feel like dealing with Tumblr. But, this one I did write over the last two days after I finished reading Bride by Ali Hazelwood, which I loved so much that it made me want to dip my toes into the Omegaverse! That being said, I don't know how much in here is actually in line with A/B/O "rules", but I know I needed to twist some things to fit the story (e.g. in this specific A/B/O fic/universe, claiming marks will fade if they're not true mates). Huge thank you to my A/B/O girlies, @makeadealwithdean and @emoryhemsworth, for reading it over, I love you both to the moon and back! I hope you all enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST |  SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST |  MAIN MASTERLIST

“We get in, find the knife, get out, got it?” Dean asks, looking between Sam in the front seat and Y/N in the back, making sure everyone is on the same page. They both nod once in understanding, before the three of them make their way out of the car, their doors slamming shut simultaneously. 

Y/N stares up at the mansion before them, the music loud, the party raging. It’s some charity event thrown by the wealthiest Alpha in the state, and he just happens to have the weapon they need to finish out this hunt. Y/N stumbles a bit, tripping over the cobblestone driveway in her heels, and she catches the sleeve of Dean’s suit to steady herself. He shoots her a glare that tells her to pull it together. They need to blend in.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“Here,” Dean replies, grabbing her wrist and pulling it through the crook formed by his bent elbow, forcing them to walk arm-in-arm.

“I don’t need –”

“You are an Omega, Y/N. And there are upwards of a hundred Alphas here who can all smell it. So what you need to do is start acting like one. Just because I’m not some asshole Alpha who demands your respect doesn’t mean they aren’t, and we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves.”

Y/N takes a deep breath and plasters on a fake smile as they move slowly up the driveway. “Anyone who demands my respect just because of some bullshit biological hierarchy doesn’t deserve it,” she grits out.

Dean stops, turning to face her, one of his hands on either side of her biceps. “Do you want to be on this case or not?” 

His voice is lower than usual, demanding and gruff. A voice he only uses when he wants to remind her that he is an Alpha, and bullshit biological hierarchy aside, her body is wired to listen to him. 

She gulps, and he tries not to focus on the bob in her throat, the pulse in her neck near her gland, the scent of her. The moment he met her he knew who she was, what they were. Are. He’s been taking scent blockers since before he met her, finding it far easier to interact with other Alphas when investigating cases if they couldn’t scent him out, but the moment he met her, he knew he had to start taking rut blockers too. Though, it feels like the longer he’s around her, the more immune he becomes to the pills. Like she’s going to send him into a rut any fucking second, and she has no idea. He’s thought about telling her so many times, but mates come with strings. Strings that aren’t conducive to the life of a hunter.

“Yes,” she answers his question meekly, almost submissively, and he nods to cover the hormones he forces himself to swallow down. Rejecting your biology is not easy, no matter how many pills you take.

“Then I’m going to need you to take my arm, put on a smile, and act like being an Omega is the greatest joy of your life. That means –”

“I know how to be a good little Omega, Dean,” she interrupts, dragging the words ‘good little Omega’ through a sarcastic tone.

He tenses slightly at her words, sarcastic or not. Good little Omega.

“I’m only bad for you,” she continues with a cheeky wink, and fuck, he might explode. Hell, he might take her into the bushes right now and mark her, claim her, before parading her around in front of this entire fucking party with his teeth marks on her neck. He’s rigid, trying to keep himself under control, and she gives him a playful pat on his shoulder. “Lighten up, Alpha,” she teases. “I’ll be a good girl.”

Jesus fucking Christ. He gives her biceps a squeeze that he hopes comes off as reassuring as he’s trying to make it seem, before linking his arm with hers once more and catching up to Sam at the front of the driveway.

The trio is greeted by the owner of the mansion himself, one Jim Myers, who welcomes them in with a smile on his face and a cigar in his hand. 

“How Gatsby-esque,” Y/N mutters under her breath, watching as Myers shakes Sam’s hand.

Dean nods in agreement. “You definitely wore the right outfit.”

Y/N blushes as she looks down at her dress; a black, semi body-hugging cocktail dress bedazzled with gold sequins in some sort of art deco pattern. All she’s missing is a cigarette holder and a feather in her hair. 

“Only because I read the invitation. Unlike some of us,” she mumbles in reply.

“Watch it, Omega,” Dean grits out, plastering on a smile as soon as Myers comes over to greet him.

“Jim Myers, pleasure,” he says, shaking Dean’s hand.

“Dean. And this is Y/N.”

She keeps the cordial smile on her face as Jim takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before inhaling her scent. 

“Pleasure, Miss Y/N,” he says with a feral grin, his eyes darkening with unmistakable lust as he lets her hand fall back to her side. 

Dean takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “Mine,” he practically growls, and Jim takes a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

“My apologies. I didn’t see a mark, so I just assumed.”

Dean falters, clearing his throat, suddenly reminded of the reason they’re all here in the first place. “No, that’s alright. It’s my fault for not putting it in a visible place.” His eyes dart over to Y/N’s. “I think I’m gonna fix that.”

She ducks her head but can’t hide the red flush that creeps up into her cheeks, reminding herself that it’s just her biology, and that this is all for show anyway. They’re here to do a job, and sometimes those jobs involve… well, whatever the hell just happened. And clearly, Dean is a better actor than she gives him credit for.

Jim chuckles, clasping his hands together. “Well, you three have fun, the drinks are free, the food is good, and if you,” he points at Sam, “good sir, are in search of an Omega, there are plenty to choose from.”

Sam blushes. “Right.” He nods. “Thanks.”

And with that, Jim disappears into the crowd.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sam says. “You two go. Upstairs, down the hall, third door on the right. If I got the right blueprints.”

“If you got the right blueprints?” Dean asks.

“Just go.” He taps his ear to indicate that he’ll drop in on Dean’s earpiece if anything goes wrong. 

Dean sighs, taking Y/N by the hand and leading her up the stairs. He weaves in and out of the crowd, the scents of everyone mixing together, making it impossible to decipher who is what. Y/N’s never been more glad to be on heat suppressors; knowing full well the scents of this many Alphas invading her nostrils would send her body into a major one.

Dean quickly finds the door, and they slip into the room unnoticed, closing the barrier and switching on the light. It’s a bedroom — the master, from the looks of it — and the knife is right in front of them in the middle of the room, across from the foot of the bed. It’s in a glass case, on display, and likely armed with a million alarms, but right in front of them nonetheless. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about what the next move should be.

“We could find something that weighs the same? Lift the glass and replace it super fast?” Y/N offers.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s the glass that’s probably set to trip an alarm. But the fact that you’re applying Indiana Jones to real life scenarios is making me want to —” 

He stops himself, realizing what he was about to say. He needs to get himself under control but Y/N in that dress with her smart fucking mouth, with other Alphas eyeing her, he really shouldn’t be here, with her, alone, and —

“Making you want to what?” she asks.

Shit. “Making me want to… make you watch more of them,” he replies, opting to circle the display case, searching it for a way in to distract himself from her. 

“Oh, goody. Can’t wait.” She’s as monotone and sarcastic as ever, and every time something smart comes out of her mouth he has to resist the urge to bend her over and fuck her right then.

“Get out of there now,” Sam’s voice comes in on Dean’s earpiece. “Lost track of him for a few seconds, just found him again. He’s making his way upstairs.”

“Shit,” Dean says. “Shit, shit, shit.” He looks around the room frantically. If they go out the door, Myers will without a doubt see them leaving his room. “Myers is coming,” he explains to a confused-looking Y/N.

“Fucking — God dammit.” She looks around too, for a hiding spot, for a weapon, and then she spots herself in the mirror hanging on the wall and an idea comes to her. “Mark me,” she orders.

“What?” Dean snaps, his attention fully on her.

“Get over here and mark me. You told him you were going to make it visible.” She continues before Dean can protest. “Who knows if it’ll even stay, it’s not like we’re mates, right? And if it does, I don’t mind being bound to you for the rest of ever. It’s not like I’m having much luck in the relationship department anyway. But we need that knife, and we’re not going to get it if we don’t –”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath with a quick shake of his head, before he strides across the room and pushes her up against the wall just in time to hear the door click. He inhales her scent, his mouth trailing from the base of her jaw all the way down to her mating gland where it hovers as the door opens all the way. Then he bites down.

Y/N throws her head back, her fingers digging into Dean’s shoulders as his teeth sink into her, and none of it is for show. The pain is euphoric, and her senses heighten, and she suddenly wishes she hadn’t been so stringent on taking her fucking pills, because whatever this feeling is, coursing through her veins, settling in her core, she needs to feel it more. She can’t stand how dulled it is, how it just stays there, simmering underneath the surface. She wants to erupt. 

“Mm, fuck, Alpha!” she cries out, no trace of sarcasm in her voice, and Dean’s hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise them. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jim exclaims. “Got an alert that someone was in here, there’s some very valuable things in here, you see, and I just wanted to make sure —”

Dean pulls away from her neck long enough to shoot him a glare that translates to “get out or I’m going to kill you”, and Jim gets the message, backing out the door and shutting it behind him. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, letting his forehead fall to Y/N’s shoulder. He shouldn’t be so close to her. He should back away, give himself some space to breathe. But her scent keeps him rooted in place. It’s her usual scent; something like freshly baked sugar cookies and vanilla, sweet and enticing, but there’s something else, something —

“Are you guys okay?” Sam’s voice in his damn ear again.

Dean lifts his head and presses the button on his earpiece to reply. “Fine, Sam. Give us a second.” Then he takes the earpiece out and tosses it over his shoulder, more agitated than he should be at his brother just trying to check in.

“Dean,” she breathes, and she sounds absolutely wrecked. She brings her hands to his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “Are you okay?” 

He nods. Her touch is like fire on his skin. He needs her. 

Y/N squeezes her thighs together. She’s never been able to scent Dean before, but he’s never been this close for this long. He’s never marked her, either. Right now his scent is breaking through the suppressants, little by little. It’s bits of cedar and leather and whiskey, and she’s never smelt anything like it, yet it is so familiar somehow. It invades her senses, and if this is what he smells like with suppressants, she’s terrified of what would happen without them.

“Dean… your scent.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply.

“Fuck, my pills must’ve worn off, I —”

She shakes her head. “It’s dulled but… but it’s there.” Her thighs clench together again, and she needs him back on her skin. “It’s there and it’s so fucking good.”

Dean’s eyes fall to the gland on her neck, and the severity of what he’s done comes crashing into him like a wrecking ball. It’s enough to force him to take a step away from her, panic rising in his chest. “I – fuck. I marked you. I fucking marked you.”

Y/N’s fingers come up to graze the indent on her neck, and she shudders at the touch. “I told you to.”

“No, you don’t understand, Y/N –”

“I know what happens when mates get marked, Dean,” she interrupts matter-of-factly. “I’m sure this’ll fade.”

“It won’t. I – I shouldn’t have done that. Fuck. Fuck!” He turns to the wall next to him, hitting it with the side of his closed fist. 

“Dean.” Her touch on his arm is gentle and comforting, but he doesn’t turn to face her. “You need to calm down. It’s really not a big deal, I –”

Dean takes a deep breath, both hands on the wall now as he collects himself. He can’t even bring himself to look at her when he says, “You’re my mate, Y/N.”

She takes a step back, and her fading scent is what makes him finally face her. She’s halfway across the room by the time he does. 

“W-what do you mean?”

“You’re my mate, Y/N,” he repeats.

She shakes her head, her hand coming to her neck again, the teeth marks seared into her skin. “N-no. H-how? When? How – how long have you known?”

Dean takes another long, deep breath. He could lose her tonight. She could run and never come back and he wouldn’t blame her. “Since we met.”

“THREE YEARS!?” she roars. “YOU’VE KNOWN FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS!?”

“Y/N, I –”

She stalks toward him, one finger outstretched, one fist clenched by her side. She points at him as she backs him into a wall, and he’s incredibly turned on and incredibly scared at the same time. 

“You’ve known that we’re fucking mates for three years, and you didn’t feel as though that was pertinent fucking information to tell me!?”

Dean swallows. “I – it’s – there are… strings with mates. You know that. I didn’t want to ball and chain you. I didn’t want to keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. And if – fuck – we’re hunters, Y/N. If something had happened to me, and you knew… I didn’t want you to have to live with that. With the pain that comes with losing a true mate.”

Y/N stops half a foot away and drops her accusatory finger. “What did you say?” she whispers.

“True… mates,” Dean breathes.

“We’re…? But… We never – I don’t –”

“With me on my pills, and you on your pills, I think it was enough to… so we just never…”

“But you knew,” she says, closing the gap between them, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. “You knew for so long and you watched me go on dates, had to listen about the… things I did with other Alphas… if I had mated with one of them, you –”

“You deserved to have a choice. Regardless of what I wanted, you deserved to have a choice.” 

“My choice could’ve left you depressed and alone and celibate forever, you fucking dumbass.” 

He shrugs, and her hand falls to rest over his heart. She stares at it as she continues.

“When you… marked me… I felt… I don’t know what I felt. Nothing’s ever been so intense.”

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and he smiles softly.

“That’s the bond,” he explains, his large palm coming to rest over the hand on his chest. 

“And if we weren’t on… our blockers?”

“If we weren’t on our blockers, there’s no fucking telling how many pups we’d have running around by now.”

Y/N shivers as the thought of being bred settles in her core, and for once she’s not cursing her biology. Dean chuckles faintly at her reaction, dropping his forehead to hers. 

“We can practice in the meantime. Until you decide you want off of them.”

She inhales deeply, taking in as much of his scent as she can. “Oh, I –” another deep breath, “I’m getting off of them for sure.”

Dean lets out a borderline animalistic growl, thinking about how many times he’ll get to fuck her through that first heat. “I’m gonna stop taking my pills, too,” he says breathily.

“Yeah?”

“I had to get on rut blockers when you moved into the Bunker because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. But now,” he says, spinning them both around and pinning Y/N against the wall, “now I don’t fuckin’ have to.”

“Dean,” she half gasps, half moans. He kisses the mark on her neck before licking all the way up to her jaw line and pulling back. 

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Omega.”

She meets his feral gaze with one of her own, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Prove it.” 

And it might be an incredibly stupid thing to say to a horny Alpha, but it’s also Dean. And he’d never hurt her.

“Mm, fuck.” His voice is raspy and wrecked and they haven’t even done anything yet. Before Y/N can process what’s happening, he’s picking her up and throwing her onto the bed. He climbs over her, hovering for a moment, taking in her flushed cheeks, the warmth radiating off of her, her scent. “You’re beautiful,” he states plainly, like it’s the one fact in the world that he knows without a doubt to be true. 

Y/N blushes. “Thank you, Alpha.” She says it because she knows what it does to him. 

“You’re beautiful, and I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” 

A gasp leaves her lips as he pushes her dress up her hips and moves down her body to the foot of the mattress, his fingertips dancing along the hem of her panties before his eyes meet with hers. She gives him a nod, and it’s all the confirmation he needs before pulling them down her legs and tossing them aside. 

He watches hungrily as she spreads her thighs, her core damn near dripping with her wetness, and if this is what it’s like when she’s on heat blockers, he can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll look like covered in her slick. His cock grows hard in his slacks at the thought, and he has to step off the bed to take off his pants and boxers before the containment grows painful. He shrugs off his suit jacket and white dress shirt too, and when he’s standing in front of the bed, fully naked, Y/N is propping herself up on her elbows to take him in.

“Holy – fuck,” is all she can get out. 

Dean chuckles deeply, one knee coming up onto the mattress as he fists his cock. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He looks her over again, pussy glistening, nipples peaked through her dress. “Fuck, I want you to – would you present for me?”

A smirk spreads across her lips, but she doesn’t say anything before flipping over and assuming the position. Ass up, legs shoulder width apart, chest resting on the mattress. 

Dean lets out a low and guttural, “Fuuuuck,” and it’s enough to make her pussy clench around nothing. She feels the mattress dip behind her, and when his cock starts to move through her folds, she almost cums right then and there. 

“I know you you wish you weren’t an Omega,” he starts, “but you’re a fuckin’ perfect one, baby.” 

She shakes her head, soft whimpers escaping her as he continues to tease her with his dick. “I’m glad I’m an Omega, because I’m yours.” 

With that, Dean loses what little self control he has left. He lines himself up with her entrance and sinks into her heat, and she feels so fucking perfect, the way she molds around his cock. The noises leaving her throat spur him on as he thrusts into her, setting a bruising pace. He wraps his hand around her shoulder for leverage, his other gripping her ass.

“Oh my fuck!” she practically screams, and he can feel how close she is, can smell it. 

“You’re gonna be a good little Omega and cum for me, aren’t you baby?” he pants, and he couldn’t be thrusting deeper if he tried.

She nods frantically. “Yesyesyes, please, Alpha, I wanna to cum. I wanna — mm, fuck — on your —”

She’s too fucked out to even finish her sentence, and Dean can feel himself about to fall over the edge. “What’s that, sweetheart? Speak up.”

“I wanna cum — oh, God! — on your knot. Fucking fill me up, Dean, please.”

He barely manages another thrust before he buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock swelling inside her as he pumps her full of his seed.

The feeling of him filling her sends her over the edge, her pussy clenching around his cock, his knot, and she feels so full and fucked and sated.

“Oh my fucking fuuuuck,” he groans, feeling her pulse around him. “Fuck, everyone and this fuckin’ party is gonna be able to smell me inside of you.”

She moans at his words.

“Gonna have me dripping down your thighs ‘til we get back home.” His hand squeezes the globe of her ass before he leans over, getting as close to her ear as he can. “And then I’m gonna fuck you again. And again. And again. Because we got three years to make up for.” He nips at her ear playfully. “And now you’re finally mine.”

[webbluvrsugar]

Spencer Reid’s new morning routine after getting with bau!reader.

When Spencer started dating you, things went off quickly and you both agreed that it would be best to start living together — after all, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other and sometimes he was just too tired to drive to your place after a long case, what he didn’t expect was the insatiable hunger you felt for him every single morning.

Sure, since you’ve been sleeping in the same bed, his morning boners have been way more common than usual, — specially because you sleep with your body clung onto his, but that’s not something he’s complaining about — but now he’s having to explain to your coworkers how you’re both getting late to work almost every morning, because usually, you’re just having sex until it’s too late to get ready for work.

“You know, Morgan’s starting to ask around and — uhm… we should really start getting dressed.” Spencer tries to get you off him, not that he doesn’t want a piece of that pussy every day, he’s even read about what gets you like this right in the morning, yet he just doesn’t know.

“Uh-huh…” you answer, bluntly uninterested in what he’s saying as you straddle him in the sheets, moving to remove your tee, which is really his, and pulling his pyjama pants down.

“You’re going to drive me insane…” he breathes, one hand moving to his hair. “Or get me fired.” He mutters, but you’re quick enough to take his lips into a kiss.

It’s not long until you’re bouncing on his cock like you depend on it, his eyes rolling back as he shivers and whimpers, hands lightly flexing on your waist as his head tosses back on the sheets, its moments like this that he doesn’t really want to get to work faster.

“Fuckkk, y’feel so good.” His eyes glance over the clock, your hand slightly moves to grab his face, his attention goes back to you.

“Sorry Spence, just a little longer.” You lean down to kiss him again, your tongue moves past his lips and his hands go up your body, taking your tits on each hand.

When you’re on top of him like that, like he’s everything you need, Spencer is not that sure if this is that much of a bad idea.

[theostrophywife]

mattheo's mixtape.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: lovesong by the cure.

author's note: this idea has been in my head for so long, but now it's finally out. strap in babes, we're simping for mattheo on main. something about those pretty brown eyes and angelic little curls just get me. your honor, i adore him.

The bell outside the door to the record store chimed softly as the boys ventured inside. Mattheo peered curiously at the buzzing neon sign, the slightly scuffed black and white vinyl floor, and the racks and racks of records lining the walls. Though he hadn’t been to the muggle side of Edinburgh, it didn’t look all that different from its magical counterpart.

Yet Mattheo felt like a fish out of water all the same. 

Behind him, Theo continued rambling as they perused the vast collection of records laid out before them. “What songs have you picked out? Is there a theme? We’ll need to collect all the tapes for the cassette recorder and compile them all into a single tape.” 

The slew of questions Theo threw his way was enough to make him feel overwhelmed. Mattheo was well aware that he was completely out of his depth here, but he was determined to learn. Admittedly, he was quite ignorant of the muggle world until you came into his life. The more you told him about the queer customs and traditions of the non-magical population, the more he began to crave your stories of taking the tube, eating fish and chips until you were sick, and visiting Brighton with your cousins over the summer holiday. 

There was a whole world out there that you were a part of, which made him want to be part of it as well.

“You boys alright?” asked the kind woman behind the counter. "Would you like some help?"

Mattheo shied away from the attention, but as usual, Theo turned on his charm and flashed a winning smile at the older woman. “As a matter of fact, we do,” his friend drawled. “My mate here is looking to make a mixtape for his girlfriend.” 

The woman smiled warmly. “How sweet. I remember those days. There’s nothing quite as magical as first love,” she said with a dreamy, faraway expression. “I’d be happy to help. What songs did you have in mind?” 

After turning over his list, the woman, who turned out to be the owner of the record store, helped compile the cassettes Mattheo needed in order to make the mixtape. She patiently showed them how to record each track and slowed down the instructions so Mattheo could diligently write down notes. 

As Mattheo waited for the next track to record, he watched as Theo tried and failed to flirt with the older woman. 

“I’m flattered, dear. But I’m old enough to be your mum.” Mattheo snickered, causing his best friend to glare at him. 

“Age is nothing but a number, Annette.” 

“You’re a persistent one, aren’t you? I’m sure you’ll find your match someday, Theodore. As I have in my husband, whom I’m happily married to.” She turned over to Mattheo and smiled. “He was my first love too.” 

Making small talk had never been Mattheo’s strong suit and you often teased him that engaging in polite conversation with a stranger every once in a while wouldn’t kill him. Without fail, he sarcastically responded that it genuinely might, which earned him an eye roll. A fond one, though. Followed by a lip bite as you attempted to conceal a smile. 

“How long have you been together?” Mattheo asked curiously. 

“Twenty years,” Annette answered proudly. “Though we were friends for ages before he finally mustered up the courage to ask me out.”

Theo snorted. “Sounds familiar.” 

Mattheo swatted the back of his head. “My girl and I started out as friends too. Best friends, actually.”

“Hey!” Theo whined. “I take offense to that. I’ve known you longer. Only difference is that you and Y/N snog, which I’m more than open to if you asked.” The wink he sent Mattheo's way made the other boy blanch.

“Sorry about him.” It was a sentiment he was quite familiar with when it came to Theo. The twat tended to flirt with anything that had a pulse. Come to think of it, he wouldn't put it past Theo to chat up a corpse. Merlin knows Mattheo had witnessed his friend trying out a pick up line on the Grey Lady. “So, your husband. When did you realize he was the one?” 

“There wasn’t a specific moment, per say,” Annette said thoughtfully. “It’s a culmination of our history together. Since we were friends for so long, Declan just knew me. He knew how I took my coffee and had it ready for me first thing in the morning. He knew that I hated driving in the snow and always offered to give me lift to work when it did. He knew that I had a soft spot for strays and never complained when I brought them home. Declan makes me feel safe. Like I could weather anything the world threw at me as long as he was by my side. I guess when you know, you know."  

Mattheo pondered her words. He couldn’t help but recall all the times that his life felt like a never ending shit storm, like it would swallow him whole and drown him from the weight of his troubles. Yet at the end of the day, he always knew that after the storm came the rainbow. That’s what you were for him. You colored his world so brightly that the dark seemed inconsequential compared to your light. 

“Y/N makes me feel like that too,” Mattheo declared. “She’s patient and kind. She’s the type of person that always sees the good in people. She saw it in me even when I couldn’t see it myself.” 

Behind him, Theo sniffled as he patted his shoulder. For all his jokes and sarcasm, his friend was actually a hopeless romantic deep down. “For Salazar’s sake, Mattheo. Don’t make me bawl like a baby in front of the pretty lady.” Theo wiped at the corner of his eyes rather dramatically. “If Y/N doesn’t marry you someday, then I will. I bet my legs would look amazing in a white dress.”

At that, Mattheo chuckled. He was suddenly glad that his best friend was more than willing to be dragged along in Mattheo’s endeavors to impress his girl. Salazar knew he never would've gotten this far without Theo's self-proclaimed expertise on all things muggle, thanks to his Advanced Muggle Studies class.

As they wrapped up, Mattheo thanked Annette for all her help. Theo promised to come back and winked over his shoulder as Mattheo gathered all of his supplies. The older woman smiled at him as they parted ways.

"Best of luck, Mattheo. Though I doubt you need it. Thank you for indulging an old woman. It was genuinely a pleasure to be able to help you today."

"No, thank you. Y/N is going to love it."

"Your girlfriend is a very lucky girl."

Mattheo shook his head. "I'm the lucky one. This is the least I could do to show her how much I..." he trailed off, trying to find the right words. "How much I care for her."

Care didn't seem like a strong enough word, but it was close. Mattheo wasn't sure he could fully verbalize the intensity of what he felt for you. You weren't just his girlfriend. You were his best friend, too. His confidante. His rock. You were everything to him.

“Remember what I told you. When you know, you know." She patted Mattheo's shoulder. "You talk about Y/N like I talk about my husband. It's clear that she's very special to you. Don't let go of that one."

Mattheo smiled to himself, his cheeks flushing. “I won't.” 

The midnight moon glowed above the Scottish Isles, enveloping the rocky shores of the Black Lake with a chilly breeze that made you shudder even underneath the comfort of your red and gold striped sweater. 

“Are you cold?” Mattheo asked softly, his voice echoing through the empty beach. 

Before you could respond, your boyfriend shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders. With a shy smile, you thanked Mattheo and flushed as he took your hand in his. As you continued on your late night stroll, he cleared pebbles in your path to ensure that you didn’t trip over them on the way to the dock. 

It was the little things—the small gestures that Mattheo enacted on a daily basis that made you fall for him even more. Though the relationship was fairly new, the connection between you was undeniable. Perhaps because you started out as potions partners, which eventually blossomed into friendship and now you couldn’t even remember a time when he wasn’t part of your life. 

The two of you settled at the end of the dock and the rickety wood creaked underneath the weight, adjusting to its visitors as Mattheo cuddled you into his side. Warmth radiated off of him, heating you from the inside out with a pleasant flush. Mattheo chuckled as you shoved your cold hands underneath his sweater, curling his fingers around yours and warming you up like your own personal heater. 

“So, why did you want to come out here tonight?” you asked after a moment. 

As you peered up at him, the moonlight kissed your boyfriend’s features, illuminating the sharp edges of his jawline and cheekbones, curving down the slope of his nose and stopping right above his Cupid’s bow where his soft, plush lips curled into a shy smile as he blinked down at you. 

The flush on his cheeks was almost an exact match to the crimson scarf around your neck. He absentmindedly fidgeted with your fingers, his chocolate brown eyes flickering over your face nervously. Mattheo looked so shy and earnest, so unlike the bad boy persona that everyone else seemed to attribute to your boyfriend. 

“I made you something,” he stated. You watched as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cassette tape that you hadn’t noticed before. “I noticed that you listen to music while studying or walking through the halls, so I thought I’d compile a few of my favorite songs for you.” 

Your heart warmed at this beautiful boy. “You made me a mixtape?” 

Mattheo nodded, his angelic curls grazing his cheeks. “I can’t take all of the credit. Theo helped me quite a bit. I wasn’t sure how to make the tape for you, but he did since he’s taking Advanced Muggle Studies. We went into town last weekend and this lovely woman from the record shop showed us how to track and record the songs. I picked the ones that remind me of you the most.” 

You looked down at the cassette tape and smiled. The front was covered in little red hearts and spelled out in your boyfriend’s familiar scrawl was Matty’s Mixtape. As if that weren’t enough to make you swoon, underneath the tape was a small booklet with more of Mattheo’s handwriting. You smiled at his selection of songs. There was a mix of Queen, the Cure, the Clash, and of course, the Smiths. It was like having a little piece of Mattheo in your hands.

“I made you a booklet too. There’s a tracklist with reasons why I picked the songs,” Mattheo shuffled beside you, his body language conveying an uncharacteristic shyness. “I also drew a couple of things.” 

Sure enough, the booklet was filled with your boyfriend’s drawings. Your eyes filled with tears as you turned the pages. Mattheo rarely showed anyone his art. He was incredibly protective of anything he created since it showed a certain vulnerability. The fact that he was trusting you with it wasn’t something you took for granted. 

You traced over the drawings with a fond smile. There were portraits of you on one page, while the others contained memories that you were quite attached to. Your first date at the Three Broomsticks. The first time you wore his quidditch sweater to a Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw match. The day you shared a cup of hot chocolate at Madam Puddifoot’s when the two of you were just friends. They were all in here, immortalized on paper. 

Beside you, Mattheo watched anxiously as you flipped through the pages. When you got to the last one, you grinned up at him. “Matty, these are incredible.” 

“Really?” He asked, sounding a bit unsure. “You don’t think they’re cheesy?” 

“No, I love it!” You threw your arms around him and squeezed your boyfriend into a bear hug. He chuckled, burying his face in your hair and savoring the feel of you in his arms. As you pulled away to face him, Mattheo tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His heart hurt just to look at you. He really couldn’t believe you were his. You smiled softly. “And I love you.” 

You said it firmly, like it was a matter-of-fact. Like you were reciting a truth as fundamental as gravity. 

“You love me?” 

“I do,” you replied with a smile. “I love you, Mattheo Riddle.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely positive.” 

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to say it because I made you this mixtape and gave you cheesy drawings—”

He stopped mid-sentence as you grabbed his face with both hands. Mattheo softened at the fierce determination in your eyes. “Mattheo. You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. Before that, you were the best friend I’ve ever had too. You treat me like a queen and I never have to worry about other girls trying to talk to you because you never even give them the time of day. You make me soup when I’m sick. You give me your jumpers when I’m cold. You bring me coffee when I’m pulling all nighters. I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend, so yes. I love you. Not because of the mixtape or the drawings, but because you’re you.”

Mattheo was taken aback. Before you, he never thought he was capable of caring for someone so deeply. You were ingrained in him. It was like the universe had cleaved his soul in two and he’d spent an eternity searching for you. You were his other half—the better half of him that he’d been missing all along. Now that he found you, he had no intention of letting you go. 

The lovestruck expression on his face warmed your heart. His eyes—those sweet, warm brown eyes made you feel weak in the knees. Mattheo cradled your jaw and looked at you like you were the only girl in the world. 

“I love you too, Y/N.” 

You smiled as he leaned forward, bringing your lips to his in a tender kiss. He sighed in relief like he’d been waiting for this all day, fingers snaking through your hair as your body melted into his. Mattheo hummed, peppering kisses all over your face. You giggled as he pecked your cheeks, nose, jaw, and neck. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he declared with every kiss. 

Burying your face into his neck, you inhaled the familiar scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. Mattheo sighed as you scratched his scalp.

“Will you tell me about the songs while we listen to them?” you murmured against his skin. 

Mattheo nodded as his curls tickled your cheek. “Of course, sweetheart.”

He pulled out a cassette player and popped the tape in. You cuddled into his side, smiling as he presented you with one half of the headphones. The soft crooning sound of the Smiths filled your ears as Mattheo played with your hair, telling you little anecdotes about the band and how Theo almost knocked over the cassette recorder while he tried to flirt with the record shop owner. 

You chuckled as you listened, picking up the sweet lyrics that made Mattheo choose the songs in the first place. You loved each one of his picks, but the best song by far was the sound of his heartbeat thudding in your ears, syncing with your own as it beat for him and him alone.

[chosok-amo]

HIS TIP?! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MY TIP : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

you just got your nails done, and geto is the one who paid for it. so as your way to appreciate his gesture you decided to get your nails color with the same color of his tip, which results in gojo's relentless jealousy.

warning. established relationship! satosugu, jealous gojo, lots of make-out sessions ( not really, i guess ), dick mentioned, gojo asks you if you like his dick more than geto's.

wc. | masterlist ( art © artist )

you step into the kitchen, feeling light and relaxed after your nail appointment. the faint scent of fresh polish lingers as you admire your nails, now perfectly done. as you walk further in, you spot geto and gojo sitting at the dining table, papers spread out in front of them, completely absorbed in their work.

with a smile tugging at your lips, you approach them. “hey, boys,” you greet warmly, your voice soft but enough to pull their attention away from the pile of documents in front of them.

geto looks up first, his tired eyes softening the moment they meet yours. “hey,” he says, a small smile forming on his lips. gojo follows shortly, pushing his glasses up as his signature grin appears. “look who's back, looking all fresh,” he teases, eyeing your nails.

geto moves his chair to the side, creating space for you to sit on his lap. with a light chuckle, you take the bait and settle on his thighs, his arms encircling your waist almost instantly, pulling you closer. gojo, not one to be outdone, takes a moment to admire your nails before leaning in to press a light kiss to your hand, his lips lingering just a little longer than necessary.

“so, what were you two up to?” you ask, your voice a soft murmur as you lean back against geto's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. gojo leans his forearms on the table, drumming his fingers against the wood. “just some reports and paperwork. nothing too exciting.”

geto hums in agreement, his fingertips gently tracing patterns on your hip. “it's just the usual stuff. but it's more interesting now that you're here.”

you let out a soft, exaggerated sigh, rolling your eyes. “boring,” you mutter, dragging out the word playfully. you lean your head back against geto's shoulder, a mischievous smile forming on your lips.

gojo chuckles at your response, his smirk widening in amusement. “oh, am i not entertaining enough for you?” geto smirks at your back talk, his grip on your hips tightening slightly as he speaks up, his tone amused but laced with a hint of possessiveness. “watch it, sweetheart. we can make things interesting real quick.”

you chuckle softly, shaking your head as you glance between them. “sorry, sorry,” you say with a playful smile, resting your cheek on your palm as you lean your elbow against the table. “didn't mean to bruise your egos.”

gojo leans in, resting his chin on his hand, curiosity dancing in his eyes. “so, how was your day?” he asks, his voice light but genuinely interested. geto’s hand on your hip continues to trace slow circles, his voice soft as he adds, “yeah, anything interesting happen?”

you smile softly, leaning back against geto as you answer, “it was good. i had lunch with shoko and yuu, then went to get my nails done.” your voice is relaxed as you recall the day, feeling both of them listening intently.

gojo raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening slightly. “did yuu take you home after that?” he asks, the question laced with a hint of something more, like he already knows the answer. you glance at him knowingly, chuckling lightly. “yeah, he did,” you admit, seeing the small exchange of glances between gojo and geto. “figured that was your request to him, huh?” you add, giving them a teasing look.

gojo gives you a nonchalant shrug in response, his smile widening into a cheeky grin. “might’ve mentioned it, yeah.”

geto’s grip on your hips tightens just slightly, his voice a low murmur against your ear. “we just wanted to make sure you made it home safe.” his breath tickles your skin, his lips brushing against your earlobe. “can’t have our sweetheart stranded, can we?”

you scoff softly, turning your head to glance at geto with a raised eyebrow. “stranded?” you repeat, your tone playful yet teasing before you break into a warm smile, knowing well that they just want to take care of you and make sure you are safe.

geto’s smirks, his hand on your hip squeezing you lovingly. “you know what i mean,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of possessiveness. gojo watches the two of you with a knowing smile, his gaze flickering between you and geto before he speaks up with a hint of humor. “can’t have our girl wandering off without supervision, someone might snag you from us.”

you hum softly, an amused smile tugging at your lips as you settle comfortably against geto’s chest, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. “alright, boys, thank you,” you murmur, glancing at gojo with a playful glint in your eyes.

you let out a contented sigh, a warm smile on your face as the cozy, comforting atmosphere wraps around the three of you. moments like this—where everything is light, easy, and filled with unspoken love—are the ones you treasure most.

geto’s hand rubs soothing circles on your hip, his chin resting on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. “anytime, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice as warm as a summer breeze.

gojo’s eyes soften, his smile gentle as he watches you lean back against geto. “we’ll always be there for you,” he murmurs, his words filled with a protective determination. you sit in a comforting silence, the three of you basking in each other’s presence, safe in the knowledge that you’re taken care of and loved.

geto shifts slightly, his hand still rubbing soothing circles on your hip as he chuckles softly near your ear. “so,” he begins, his tone teasing but curious, “did you really use your own money for those nails?”

his voice holds a playful edge, but there's that subtle hint of possessiveness again, as if he wants to make sure you're being well taken care of.

you can feel the smirk on his lips against your shoulder as he waits for your answer, clearly enjoying the gentle interrogation. gojo raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued as he watches, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “or did you let someone else treat you?” he adds, his voice light but teasing, like he’s in on the joke.

you smirk, feeling their anticipation as they wait for your answer. “actually, yes,” you say with a playful glint in your eyes. “someone did treat me.”

both geto and gojo's expressions shift slightly—geto’s grip tightening ever so slightly on your hip, while gojo leans forward with mild curiosity. “his name?” you pause for effect, your smile widening. “geto suguru.” you lean closer to give the man kiss on the cheek.

you chuckle softly, tilting your head to look up at geto. “thanks for forcing me to use your card, by the way,” you tease, a playful edge to your voice.

geto’s lips curl into a smirk, his arms tightening around you just a bit more. “well, i had to make sure you got what you wanted,” he says, his tone light but with a hint of satisfaction. “someone's got to take care of you.” gojo lets out an amused snort, his grin widening as he watches the exchange. “how generous of you,” he teases, clearly enjoying the banter between you and geto.

geto chuckles, his hand on your hip squeezing gently. “anything for our princess,” he says, his voice warm but with a hint of possessiveness. he nuzzles his face against your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he murmurs, “can't have you paying for anything when we're around.”

you smile softly at geto’s affectionate gesture, feeling his breath warm against your skin. With a playful glint in your eye, you turn slightly to face him, leaning in close. “that's actually why i have something special to tell you,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing.

geto’s eyes sparkle with curiosity as he pulls back slightly to look at you, his expression a mix of anticipation and warmth. "oh? do tell,” he replies, his tone inviting and attentive. gojo perks up, his eyebrows lifting slightly at your announcement. he leans forward on the table, resting his chin on his hand, clearly intrigued and eager to hear what you have to say.

geto’s gaze is fixed on you, his eyes softening as he focuses his full attention on you. he gently pushes his chair back, turning you to sit sideways on his lap so he can look you straight in the face, his hand never leaving your hip.

“well? don’t keep us in suspense,” he says, a light smirk playing around the corners of his lips. you look between geto and gojo, enjoying their anticipation. with a teasing grin, you ask geto, “do you remember when i asked you to send me a dick pic before my appointment?”

geto looks slightly surprised at the direction the conversation is taking, but his initial shock morphs into an amused smirk. “i do,” he replies, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your hip, his grip firm.

you smile playfully, leaning in slightly and teasing, “i actually chose this nail polish color because it matches the shade of your tip.”geto’s smirk widens, his eyes darkened slightly at your words. “is that so?” he says, his voice a low murmur. he slides his hand up your hip, fingers tracing up along the curve of your waist.

gojo’s expression shift, a scowl crossing his face as he watches the interaction. his usual grin fades slightly, replaced by a hint of jealousy. “you’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” he says, his tone is light but edged with a touch of possessiveness.

you ignore gojo's comment, focusing instead on geto's deepening gaze and the way his fingers trace up your waist. With a warm smile, you wrap your arm around geto, pulling him closer. you lean in and press a gentle peck to his lips, savoring the closeness. “just making sure you know how much i appreciate you,” you murmur softly, your tone affectionate.

gojo watches the interaction with a mix of frustration and fascination, but you maintain your attention on geto, enjoying the intimacy and warmth of the moment. geto smiles against your lips, his hand on your hip shifting to rest on the small of your back, his grip firm but gentle. his other hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.

he leans in to deepen the kiss, his lips claiming yours in a soft but possessive manner, his tongue gently slipping into your mouth. he lets out a pleased sigh into the kiss, clearly enjoying the moment.

gojo scowls at the affectionate display, his eyes narrowing as he watches the two of you. he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. after a few moments of indulging in the kiss, geto reluctantly pulls back, his hand still on the small of your back. he gazes at you with an affectionate smile, his eyes shining with warmth.

“so, you really picked this nail polish to match me?’ he asks, his voice a soft murmur as he glances down at your nails. you nod with a playful smile, your eyes sparkling as you look up at geto. “uh-huh,” you reply, your voice soft and teasing. “i chose this color to match you because you paid for my nails. thought it would be a fun little touch. i like the color too, more like i like your dick,” you playfully said, voice drowning with sultry.

gojo lets out a scoff at your comment, rolling his eyes in mild annoyance. geto’s grin widens as he hears your words, a mix of amusement and heat flashing in his eyes. he pulls you closer, his hand on your back sliding down to rest on the curve of your hip.

“is that so?” he says, his voice low and filled with a subtle hint of possessiveness. his gaze drops to your nails, his eyes studying the color for a moment before returning to your face.

you meet geto’s gaze with a playful glint in your eyes and a teasing smile. “it is so,” you reply, your tone light but filled with affection. you let your fingers brush gently against his cheek, enjoying the closeness.

geto leaving a peck on your lips once again, his lips linger near yours, his breath warm and his gaze fixed on you. he murmurs affectionately, his voice slightly huskier than before, “you’re such a sweet thing, you know that?” gojo watches the affectionate display with a scowl, but there's a hint of envy in his expression. he scoffs softly again, shifting in his chair as if to draw your attention.

geto, however, is completely absorbed in you, his gaze locked on yours as he whispers against your lips. his hand on your hip gently squeezes you, his fingers tracing along the line where your shirt meets your jeans.

“the sweetest,” he repeats, his voice low and filled with tenderness. he leans in closer, his nose brushing against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “and you’re such a bad influence,” he says, his voice a low murmur, thick with affection and a hint of playful annoyance. he presses another gentle kiss to your mouth, lingering there for a moment.

you chuckle softly, your breath mingling with geto's as you kiss him back with an open-mouthed kiss, your hand gently cupping his cheek. you press your forehead against his, feeling the warmth of his skin.

“yeah?” you murmur between kisses, your voice teasing but affectionate. geto's eyes flutter open briefly, a smile playing on his lips as he gazes at you. “yeah,” he whispers back, his voice filled with warmth and tenderness. he deepens the kiss, his fingers continuing to trace the line where your shirt meets your jeans, enjoying the closeness and the playful exchange.

gojo can't help but watch the intimate moment between you and geto, his eyes narrowing slightly as a mix of envy and affection flashes across his face. he leans back in his chair, silently observing the way geto's fingers trace along your waist, the way you cup his face.

geto's hand slides around to the small of your back, pulling you closer still, his kiss becoming deeper, more possessive, his tongue slipping into your mouth. he moans against your lips, his breath coming a little faster.

gojo lets out a frustrated scoff as he watches geto's possessive display, but he can't deny the pang of jealousy that he feels. he shifts in his chair, his fingers drumming against the table, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance.

geto's mouth moves down to your neck, his lips tracing along the line of your throat, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. his breath is hot, his fingers gripping you tighter, his body pressing closer. gojo leans forward, his eyes fixated on the two of you, his frustration building. his jaw tightens slightly, his expression hardening as he watches geto's lips caressing your skin.

geto's lips pause near your ear, his voice a whisper filled with desire and possessiveness. “you're mine,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. he gently bites down on the sensitive spot where your shoulder meets your neck, his tongue soothing the spot immediately after.

gojo's eyes darkened, watching geto's mouth on your neck, the way he seemed so possessive, claiming you as his own. he shifted in his chair again, his fingers continuing to drum on the table, his jaw clenching faintly.

he scoffs softly, his jealousy and frustration palpable. “can it out already, can you?” he grunt in annoyance. geto pauses at gojo's annoyed remark, his lips reluctantly pulling away from your neck. he turns his head to glance at gojo, his gaze a mixture of annoyance and possessiveness.

“jealous much?” he responds, his voice cool and calm, but with an edge of challenge.

he looks back at you, his eyes traveling down to your neck and the spot he had just been kissing. a flicker of pride crosses his face as he notes the slight mark his teeth left on your skin. you clear your throat and let out a sheepish laugh, feeling a bit embarrassed by the situation (which is a lie). you glance over at gojo, offering a smirk, clearly you enjoy the moment with geto which make the man more upset than he already is, especially that crush cherry color on your cheeks.

“sorry, baby,” you say, your tone is light with no sincerity. “i got a bit carried away.”

gojo scowls at your words, his annoyance flaring as he hears the lack of remorse in your tone. his eyes flick between you and geto, his expression growing more and more frustrated. geto, on the other hand, smirks at your response, his hand on the small of your back rubbing circles in a self-satisfied manner. he pulls you even closer, his body pressing against yours.

“don't worry, princess,” he says, his voice is smooth and confident. “there's no need to apologize for enjoying yourself.” gojo's scowl deepens as geto's hand rubs circles on your back, the pet name adding fuel to his jealousy. he leans forward on the table, his gaze flickering between you and geto.

“yeah, don't apologize for enjoying yourself,” he mutters, his tone snarky, “not like you're neglecting anyone here.”

you chuckle softly at gojo’s snarky comment, finding his jealousy both amusing and endearing. you give geto a warm smile as you slide into the chair next to him, your body still close but giving gojo a bit of space. “don’t worry, baby,” you say with a playful glint in your eyes. “i’m just spreading the love around. no one’s being neglected here.”

uou turn your attention back to geto, giving him a teasing look. “and as for you,” you add, leaning in slightly, “thanks for the fun. i always appreciate your confidence.”

geto’s smirk widens, his hand still resting on your back, and he leans in closer to kiss your cheek, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth. gojo grumbles at your words, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression one of mild annoyance and jealousy. he watches as you shift your attention back to geto, his eyes narrowing slightly.

geto, on the other hand, grins at your playful comment, his hand gripping your back a little tighter. he leans in to give your cheek a soft kiss, his lips lingering on your skin for a moment, his gaze fixed on gojo the entire time.

“always a pleasure, princess,” he says, his voice warm and filled with affection. gojo's scowl deepens as he watches you and geto, his jealousy simmering just beneath the surface. he crosses his arms over his chest, clearly displeased, even if he’s trying to hide it. you and geto both know how he can get—he’s always been the jealous type, even over the smallest things.

you can feel gojo’s gaze on you, practically burning with envy. deciding to tease him a little, you pretend to be oblivious to his jealousy, glancing at geto with a playful smile. “well, suguru did pay for my nails this time, so it only made sense to match his color.”

gojo lets out an exaggerated huff, his fingers tapping against the table impatiently. “it should’ve been me,” he mutters under his breath. “i should’ve paid for your nails. and you should’ve picked my color.”

geto chuckles, clearly amused by gojo's jealousy and possessiveness. he gives you a knowing look, his hand on your back rubbing soothing circles.

“again, jealous, satoru?” he asks, his voice smooth and playful. gojo's scowl deepens as he hears geto's question, his eyes narrowing at the other man.

“damn right i am,” he mutters under his breath. “i should be the one you're matching. not him.“ you stifle a laugh at his possessive grumbling, looking at him with mock confusion. “baby, i didn't know you wanted to pay. you never said anything.”

his eyes narrow slightly, but there's a hint of vulnerability beneath his frustration. “what do you mean i never said anything? i shouldn’t have to say anything. you know I like doing things for you first and you know i always pay for you.”

geto can't help but chuckle again at gojo's response, enjoying the exchange between you and him. he rests his chin on his hand, his eyes flickering between you and gojo.

you feign innocence, tilting your head slightly as you look at gojo. “well, honey, you should have said something. maybe i would have matched your color if you had offered,” you say, your tone soft and amused.

gojo's irritation is evident in his expression, but there's a hint of hurt in his eyes. “i shouldn't have to offer. you should have picked my color without me asking," he grumbles, his fingers tapping against the table in an impatient rhythm. “i do so much for you, princess. you should just know that i want to do this sort of thing for you.”

geto watches the exchange between you and gojo, his expression neutral but his eyes flickering with a hint of interest. his hand on your back continues to rub gentle circles, a subtle gesture of possession.

you continue to feign innocence, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. “well, sweetheart,” you say, your voice soft and sweet, “maybe you should have made it more obvious that you wanted me to match you.”

gojo's scowl deepens at your response, his irritation growing. he leans forward in his chair, his eyes locking on you.

“more obvious?” he repeats, his voice filled with frustration. “how much more obvious can i get? i do so much for you. i take you on dates, i buy you gifts, i spend time with you. i feel like i’m practically screaming at you that i want to pay for you.”

geto's eyes flicker between you and gojo, silently watching the exchange, his eyes sharp and observant. he continues to rub circles on your back, his hand staying possessively in place.

you maintain your innocent facade, your small smile growing slightly wider. “maybe you should try actually screaming it then,” you suggest, your tone light and playful. gojo's jaw tightens, his patience wearing thin. he lets out an exasperated sigh, his fingers drumming against the table.

“maybe i should,” he mutters under his breath. “it’s not like i haven’t been pretty damn upfront about how i feel, princess. i’ve said i want to take care of you. i’ve told you how much you mean to me. how much more obvious can i get?”

you can’t help but chuckle at gojo’s frustrated outburst. his jealousy, while endearing, always comes with a touch of drama. standing up from your seat. “sorry, baby,” you say with playful sincerity, your voice light as you step away from the table. “i didn’t mean to make you feel that way. you know you’re important to me.”

you stretch your arms and look at both gojo and geto with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “but for now, i’m going to take a shower.” you give them a little wink before turning toward your bedroom, leaving both of them to stew in their own thoughts for a moment.

both gojo and geto watch you get up from your seat, their eyes following you as you stride towards your bedroom. gojo's irritation melts slightly as he watches you go, his gaze fixated on the sway of your hips. he lets out a deep sigh, his fingers tapping against the table again.

geto's eyes linger on your figure, his hand still rubbing circles on the empty space where you had been sitting only moments ago. his expression is calm, but his gaze is filled with a mixture of desire and possessiveness.

as you disappear into the bedroom and close the door, gojo and geto are left alone at the table. for a few moments, they sit in silence, the only sound in the room being the soft hum of the air conditioning.

gojo breaks the silence, his voice low and frustrated. “she’s driving me crazy.”

inside your bedroom, as you stand in front of the mirror, brushing your hair and removing your jewelry, you hear the soft creak of the wooden door closing. you glance at the reflection, catching sight of gojo sitting on the edge of the bed, arms crossed and his gaze deliberately avoiding yours. he’s still sulking, his body language making it painfully clear that he wants you to know just how upset he is.

a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you turn to face him fully. his childish pouting is endearing, and you can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle, shaking your head at how serious he’s trying to be.

“you're still upset, huh?” you tease softly, stepping closer to him. gojo’s stubborn silence is answer enough, his jaw set in a tight line, though you can see the faintest hint of a pout forming.

gojo can feel his irritation bubbling beneath the surface as you approach him, his arms still crossed over his chest. he refuses to look at you, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor, his jaw clenched tight. he knows he's being childish, but he can't help it.

he remains silent, his shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath. he can feel your eyes on him, your soft chuckle breaking the heavy silence in the room. he grumbles under his breath, his resolve slipping.

you stand in front of gojo, watching the way his irritation bubbles beneath the surface. he's stubborn, jaw clenched and eyes glued to the floor. a small sigh escapes you as you reach out, gently stroking his arms up and down, feeling the tension in his muscles. his resistance is almost adorable, but you know exactly how to handle him when he's like this.

wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, your touch soft and coaxing. you tilt your head, trying to meet his eyes, but he only looks further away, his determination to stay upset clear in every movement.

“come on, baby,” you murmur, your voice soft and teasing. “are you really going to keep ignoring me, or what?“ you lean in a little closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you speak, hoping to break down the last bit of his sulking.

gojo tries to resist your attempts at breaking down his sulking, but the feeling of your arms around his neck and the sound of your voice against his ear start to chip away at his resolve. he lets out a frustrated huff, his shoulders sagging slightly.

he hesitates for a few more moments, fighting the urge to give in to your coaxing. but eventually, he gives up, his arms slowly uncrossing and settling on your waist. his gaze remains fixed on the floor, still stubbornly avoiding your eyes.

you smile softly as you feel gojo's arms finally settle on your waist, his stubborn facade starting to crack. without saying a word, you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering there for a moment before pulling back. your fingers trail up to brush lightly against his undercut, feeling the slight roughness beneath your fingertips.

he’s still looking away, but you can sense his resolve weakening, the frustration slowly fading. “there you are,” you whisper, your thumb gently caressing the side of his face. “i missed you already.” you tilt your head, trying to catch his gaze, your smile warm and affectionate as you wait for him to finally meet your eyes.

gojo can feel his resolve crumbling with each gentle touch and caress from you. your soft whisper and the warmth in your voice only make it harder for him to keep up his sulky act.

he lets out a quiet breath, his gaze flickering towards yours for a brief moment before quickly looking away again. his jaw is still clenched, the last remnants of his annoyance still lingering. but the longer you hold him, the more it fades away, replaced by a mix of vulnerability and affection.

“ugh, stop it,” he mutters under his breath, his voice gruff but lacking any real heat.

you chuckle softly at his gruff response, leaning in a little closer as you stroke his undercut. “i'm sorry, baby,” you say gently, your voice soft and sincere. “i didn’t realize it was such a big deal to you.” you give him a small, apologetic smile, your thumb brushing along his cheek. “i just wanted to do something nice for suguru since he paid for my nails, that’s all.“

you pause for a moment, letting your words sink in, hoping he understands. “it doesn’t mean i don’t appreciate you. you know i do, right?” you tilt your head slightly, trying to meet his eyes again, your arms still wrapped around his neck, holding him close.

his shoulders sag slightly as you apologize, his face softening as he absorbs your words. he knows he's being ridiculous, being jealous over something so small. he lets out a deep breath, his resistance crumbling further. he finally meets your gaze, his expression a mixture of annoyance and affection.

“i know,” he sighs, his fingers gripping your hips a little tighter. “i just...” he hesitates for a moment, his jaw clenching again. “i hate the idea of you matching anything with anyone other than me, princess.”

you smile softly, your hand moving from his cheek to gently run through his hair. “baby, i always match almost everything with you,” you reassure him, your tone warm and affectionate. “more than i do with suguru, trust me.”

you lean in a little closer, your forehead resting against his. “but sometimes, it's nice to do things for him too, you know? he takes care of me just like you do. you both mean so much to me.” your fingers trail gently along his undercut again, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders. “you’ll always come first, though.”

gojo lets out another sigh, the last remnants of his stubborn resistance melting away at your words. he leans into your touch, his body relaxing under your gentle caresses. he knows he’s being unreasonable, but he can’t help the possessive feeling that surges within him whenever he sees you with anyone else.

“i know,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing soft circles on your hips. “i know you care about us both. and i get that you want to do nice things for him. i just... i don’t like sharing you, princess.”

you chuckle softly, shaking your head as you brush a strand of hair away from gojo’s face. “isn’t it a little too late to be worrying about sharing, baby?” you tease gently, your lips curling into a playful smile.

you lean back slightly, keeping your arms around his neck. “besides, it’s not fair if i’m always doing things with you, and the moment i do something with suguru, you throw a fit.” your tone is light and teasing, but there’s an undertone of honesty in your words.

“baby, you’re not the only one who wants to take care of me. suguru does too, and i want to show him the same love and attention i show you.” you tilt your head, your eyes soft. “don’t you think that’s fair?”

gojo let out another huff, his face scrunching into a slight pout. he knows you have a point, but he’s still not entirely pleased with the situation. sharing you with geto is already a challenge for him, and now you’re giving him even more reasons to be jealous.

“i guess,” he grumbles, his fingers gripping your hips a little tighter. “i just can’t help it, princess. when i see you with him, doing things we usually do together, it makes me want to... well...” he trails off, his eyes flickering to the side.

gojo’s pout deepens as he grumbles, noticing the small gap between the two of you. with a frustrated sigh, he tugs you closer by your waist, his grip firm but affectionate.

“why are you standing so far away?” he mutters, pulling you flush against him as if that would somehow chase away the jealousy lingering in his chest. he buries his face against your chest, letting out another low grumble. “i don’t like it when you’re not close to me,” he admits, his voice muffled but laced with affection.

you chuckle as gojo pulls you closer, his arms encircling you possessively. his possessive and needy behavior is both endearing and frustrating at times, but you know it’s just his way of showing how much he cares.

as he buries his face against your chest, you instinctively reach up to run your fingers through his soft, white hair, your touch gentle and soothing. “i’m not that far away, sweetheart,” you tease lightly, your other hand rubbing circles on his back.

you gently cup his face in your hands, guiding him to look at you. “baby, suguru deserves the same attention and treatment as you do,” you say softly but firmly. “he’s important to me too, and just like you, he wants to show me how much he cares.”

you lean in a bit closer, your gaze steady and sincere. “i love both of you and want to make sure you both feel appreciated and cared for. it's not about sharing; it's about balancing and showing the same love to everyone who means so much to me.”

gojo’s eyes meet yours as you cup his face in your hands, your words sinking in. he knows deep down that you’re right, that geto deserves just as much attention and affection as he does. but it’s still hard for him to shake off that possessive and jealous feeling. he huffs again, his grip on your hips tightening slightly.

“i know,” he mutters, his voice low. “i just don’t like sharing you, princess. it feels like i’m losing something when you give bits of yourself to someone else.” you chuckle softly, shaking your head with a playful smile. “you're such a drama queen, satoru,“ you tease gently before leaning down to kiss him.

your lips meet his in an open-mouthed kiss, your hands sliding up to his neck to pull him closer. the kiss is deep and warm, your affection clear in every gentle brush of your lips and touch. you let yourself get lost in the moment, aiming to reassure him of your love and commitment, no matter how dramatic he might be feeling.

gojo grumbles as you tease him, but his grumbles quickly melt away as your lips meet his. his arms instinctively envelope your waist, pulling you in as close to him as physically possible.

the kiss is hungry and possessive, the touch of your lips and tongue igniting a fire within the both of you. he responds with equal fervor, his mouth moving against yours with a mixture of need and passion.

he forgets about the jealousy and pettiness for a moment, losing himself entirely in your touch. as the kiss deepens, gojo's hands begin to wander, his touch becoming more possessive and needy. they trail up your sides, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your top, his touch hot against your skin.

he pulls back for a moment, but only to move his attention to your jaw and neck, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of kisses and gentle nips along your sensitive flesh. with each kiss and nibble, gojo's need for you becomes more evident, his touch both tender and urgent as he holds you close against him. his lips and tongue continue their journey down your neck, his hands now roaming across your shoulders and back.

he's slowly losing himself in the moment, his jealousy and possessiveness taking a backseat to his overwhelming desire for you.

you let out a soft murmur, “satoru,” almost breathlessly. your eyes fluttering closed as you pull his silver locks gently. your fingers tangle in his hair, urging him closer, deepening the kiss. every touch, every nibble on your neck only intensities the connection between you, allowing you both to lose yourselves in the shared moment of intimacy and affection.

at the sound of his name, gojo groans against your skin, his lips and teeth still working their way along your neck and collarbone. his hands move lower, slipping beneath your top and caressing your bare skin.

he can feel your need, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. he responds to your silent request, his body molding against yours, his lips moving back up to claim yours in a deep, heated kiss.

as the intensity of the kiss builds, gojo starts to steer you backwards, guiding you towards the bed. his hands roam your body, exploring every inch of you as he continues to kiss you with a burning desire.

with a swift movement, he lifts you up into his arms and lays you down on the bed, his body covering you as he pins you beneath him, drawing a gasp from the back of your throat with sudden movement. his knee wedges between your legs, spreading them slightly as he presses closer against you.

gojo's actions are fluid and confident, his hands and mouth working in unison to send waves of heat cascading through your body. he pins you beneath him, his body pressing against yours, his knee nudging your legs apart.

he can feel your gasp against his lips, his fingers gripping your hips and pulling you even closer against him. he breaks away from the kiss, his lips moving to your ear, peppering it with kisses and soft nibbles. his voice is low, almost a growl.

“you drive me crazy, princess,“ he whispers, his voice deep and filled with desire.

you gently pull him away, your eyes searching his face with a hint of concern. you run your fingers through his hair, your voice soft and soothing. “are you still mad?” you ask, your tone filled with warmth and understanding. you want to make sure that his feelings are addressed before things continue, showing him that you care about his emotions as much as the passion between you.

gojo's frustration and jealousy melt away under your gentle touch and concerned gaze. he leans into your hand as you run your fingers through his hair, the simple, soothing gesture calming his restless thoughts.

he sighs, his expression softening as he looks down at you beneath him. he's still annoyed, but the intensity of his feelings seems to have simmered down. “no,” he admits, his voice a little gruff. "i'm not mad anymore. just... jealous."

you poke his cheek playfully, a teasing smile on your lips. “don't,” you say, your voice light and comforting. “we just had a hot make-out session. it doesn’t change how much i care about you.” you lean in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek, reassuring him with your warmth and affection.

gojo can't help but chuckle at your playful poke and light tone. your words and the gentle kiss on his cheek only serve to soothe his jealous feelings further. he knows deep down that his jealousy is a little irrational, but he can't help the possessive part of him that wants you all to himself.

he leans his forehead against yours, his voice softer now. “i know,” he mumbles, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your hips. “i just... i can't help it, princess. i just want you all to myself, all the time.”

you gently push him onto the bed, a playful glint in your eyes as you crawl down from the bed. you stand next to him, looking down with a teasing smile. “too bad,” you say with a light chuckle, “you're going to have to bear it for the rest of your life. neither suguru nor i are going anywhere.” you lean down to give him a reassuring kiss, emphasizing your words with affection.

as you push him onto the bed and stand over him, gojo can't help but let out a small grumble, even though he knows you're just teasing him. he props himself up on his elbows, his gaze on you, a mixture of jealousy and adoration in his eyes.

he lets out a huff as you tease him with your words, but his expression softens when you lean down to give him a kiss, the reassurance clear in your gesture. “you're lucky i love you,” he mutters under his breath, his tone jokingly annoyed.

you give his thigh a gentle pat, your smile warm and reassuring. “you should go back to work,” you say, your voice playful but with a hint of sincerity. “i’m going to take a shower, and then i’ll make you and suguru tea and dinner. your favorite, of course.”

you lean down for one last quick kiss, “sounds good, my love?”

gojo's expression softens at the combination of your warm smile and gentle touch. he sighs, sitting up on the bed and nodding slightly as you suggest he return to work. he knows you're right, that he needs to get back to his responsibilities, even though he'd rather stay in the moment with you.

he accepts your last quick kiss, his hand slipping to the back of your head, his touch possessive but affectionate.

“sounds good, princess,” he murmurs, his voice a mix of resignation and fondness. as you’re about to walk to the bathroom, gojo's hand wraps around your wrist, gently pulling you back to stand between his legs. he gazes up at you, his blue eyes holding a mix of playful jealousy and curiosity.

“you like suguru's dick, huh?“ he asks, his voice teasing yet laced with a hint of insecurity. “what about mine? do you like my dick too?” his fingers trail up your wrist, his grip light but enough to keep you close. he's seeking reassurance, the possessive part of him craving your validation.

gojo's grip on your wrist prevents you from moving too far away. his eyes lock on yours, the mixture of jealousy and curiosity evident in their depths. when he speaks, his voice is playful, yet there's an undertone of insecurity and seeking validation.

at his question, a small flush creeps onto your cheeks, your body moving slightly closer to him. you reach down, gently running your fingers through his silvery hair. “yes,” you reply softly, looking at him. “i do like your dick too, baby.”

gojo smirks in response, his grip on your wrist relaxing as he leans back slightly, his eyes still fixed on yours. he can see the flush on your cheeks, the way your body moves closer to his, and he knows he's gotten what he wanted— reassurance.

he lifts his hand, his fingers gently tracing along your hip, his touch light, almost teasing. his voice is playful, but there's also a hint of possessiveness in his tone. “enough to prefer it over suguru's?” he asks, his eyes flickering up to meet yours, seeking further confirmation.

as your finger trails from his thigh to his zipper, gojo’s smirk deepens, his breath hitching slightly at your touch. your whisper, soft and teasing, sends a shiver down his spine. you nod, leaning in slightly, your lips barely brushing his ear. “i like yours the most,” you whisper, letting your finger linger teasingly on his zipper.

“its sooo big, thick, and clean, and red, you take care of your dick so well,” you continue to whisper to his ear.

gojo's smirk turns into a small gasp as your finger lightly brushes his zipper and your whisper in his ear. his body responds instantly to your touch and words, his breath hitching and his heart rate slightly picking up.

he grunts lightly as you continue to tease him with your whispers about how well he takes care of his dick, his own voice a little huskier as he responds.

“are you really trying to flatter me right now, princess?” he mutters, his eyes closing momentarily as his own hand grips your hip a little tighter. “yeah? my dick's better, right?” he asks after, his tone bordering on cocky as he looks up at you smugly. he tightens his grip on your wrist, while his other hand moving to rest possessively on your waist.

gojo's smug expression falters for a split second when you whisper, “sooo much better,” your voice low and teasing. his grip tightens just slightly on your waist, but before he can respond, you tap his thigh and begin to walk away, leaving him sitting on the bed.

he watches you, a mix of frustration and amusement playing on his face as you head to the bathroom, his possessive nature still burning beneath the surface. “you’re really gonna leave me like that, huh?” he mutters under his breath, eyes glued to your retreating figure.

his fingers twitch in response to the sudden loss of your touch, and he lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head with a small, exasperated grin, knowing full well you’ve won this round.

gojo stares after you as you walk towards the bathroom, his expression a mixture of frustration, amusement, and possessiveness. his fingers twitch with the need to pull you back, to keep you close and satisfy his possessive nature.

he lets out a low huff, trying to appear nonchalant despite the fact that he's slightly disgruntled by your departure. “you can't just tease me like that and then leave,” he calls out, his voice low and slightly rough.

he leans back on one elbow, his eyes glued to the bathroom door, already plotting his revenge for your cheeky retreat.

[slight-gaming-addict]

Can you do a housewardens x reader and the reader is a kind person who likes helping others to the point where it affects their sleep like someone who is constantly asking the reader for help or something in the middle of the night and the reader feels bad to say no (sorry I’m bad at explaining things)

sleepless nights

part 2 | masterlist | join the taglist | request rules | ko-fi

how housewardens react to you not sleeping at night to do things for other people

characters: azul ashengrotto, kalim al-asim, idia shroud, malleus draconia

𝑨𝒛𝒖𝒍 𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐

It's not uncommon for Azul to be up late working on his multiple business plans, and at first he was happy he could have some company when you started showing up to work next to him.

A week has passed and you're still, like clockwork joining him for his late night endeavors. He never asked what exactly you're working on, knowing that some things are better left not talked about, but he's been slowly noticing how you stay up later than him, and then are up early again the next day.

Now, he would normally be impressed by the work ethic you show, but he notices how your demeanor slowly changes over the couple days. The bags under your eyes seemed to just get bigger as the days go, and your usual happy, bouncing self is now dragging yourself everywhere. So he took it on himself that night when you're both working to finally ask what you were working on.

You're taken aback by the question, not thinking he would actually ask what you were working on; just thinking he was content with the company. You tell him your plans, with it not being a secret anyway.

You see his face go from curious to shock when you inform him that the work isn't even for you. "You're doing all this work for something that's not even going to benefit you?" You don't even know how to respond to him, knowing the entire thing sounds ridiculous.

You said yes to this project because the person really sounded like they needed help, and you felt bad for them, so you just decided to try to get it out of the way quickly. However, apparently the project was longer than you anticipated and with you wanting things to be perfect, it's been taking twice as long for you to finish.

Azul asks who the work is for, and you don't answer him, keeping your head down. You should have known when he doesn't ask any more questions that he was up to something, but you didn't know what until the next day when the person who asked you to do the project practically sprints up to you.

They're a stuttering mess when trying to tell you that you didn't have to finish the entire project, and the work you already have would be fine for them to finish. You didn't even get a chance to ask them why before they were gone from your vision completely.

That night you walk into Azul's office with a burning question in mind. "What did you tell them?" You know he's aware of what exactly you're talking about, but he acts dumb about it all anyway.

"Whatever do you mean?" He feigns innocence that you see right through. You're about to argue with him, but he doesn't give you the opportunity to. "It's late, you should go to bed." Even though it's a lot earlier than you stayed up during the week, you couldn't argue that you weren't tired.

That night you have the best sleep you've had in weeks, and you have Azul to thank for it.

𝑲𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒎 𝑨𝒍-𝑨𝒔𝒊𝒎

The thing with Kalim is, he's also someone who likes to help people. Usually, he'd be in the same predicament as you, if it weren't for Jamil managing his time.

When he finds out that you've been going around helping as many people as you can, he thinks it's nice that there's someone else who cares about people as much as he does.

He usually wouldn't bother you when you look as busy as you do, but he can see your body slowly deteriorating as the days go on. Eventually, Kalim finds himself approaching you to ask about the work you're doing.

You give him a smile, telling him about the people you've been helping lately, even though the smile doesn't quite reach your eyes. The lack of sleep is clearly shown on your face, and while Kalim is all about helping people, this just seems a little extreme to him.

He asks if you need any help with the tasks you have, so you can at least get some rest. You really don't want to bother him with the tasks you brought on yourself, but you don't have it in you to say no to the grinning man in front of you.

The two of you eventually get through the long task for that day, and you're able to finish early enough to get to sleep earlier that night.

However, you didn't anticipate the person disrupting your sleep once again for a completely different task. You hesitate this time but end up saying yes to the person again.

When Kalim sees you working the next day, he goes to help you with it. From now on, it seems every time he sees you working on something, he's going to try to help you with it.

You're completely grateful for the kindness he's showing you, but you eventually feel bad for him working on things you decided to do. You can see him also losing sleep because of it, and you have to bring yourself to refuse the next time the person asks you for something.

You know that you're only refusing solely for Kalim and how he would feel, but you figure it's a step in the right direction when you're able to finally get some sleep at night.

𝑰𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝑺𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒅

Usually, Idia is up late anyway playing video games, so he hears your footsteps outside his room late into the night and chooses to just ignore it. It's when he hears you up late coming onto the fourth night in a row that he drags himself away from his desk to go see what the problem is.

He finds you with an armful of things, attempting to carry them back to your room, and you pause when you see him standing there. You immediately apologize for making so much noise and insist on him going back to his room.

Idia contemplates turning around and walking back to his room like you said, but he watches you take another step, and more things start to fall out of your arms. He finds himself going to help you pick the things up against his own will. Even though he desperately wants to go back into his room without a care in the world, he can't find it in himself to just leave you struggling.

He goes to grab the things falling the most from your arms and has no idea what you could possibly be doing with all this stuff. "What is this even for?" he finds himself asking you, glancing up to see your conflicted reaction.

"Uh, it's for…" You pause, trying to collect your thoughts, "um it's…" You can't come to a solid answer, not really knowing what it's all for yourself. There's been a different thing this person has needed every night, and the nights have blurred together, so you can't bring yourself to remember exactly what you're supposed to be doing tonight. You got all these things to try and jog your memory, but they don't seem to be working at all as you stare down at them with a blank expression.

Idia just stares at you before dropping everything in his arms on the table in the corner of the room and bringing you over to do the same. You think he's just trying to help you sort everything out, but he grabs your arm and starts to drag you away from the table.

You attempt to pull yourself away from him and back to the table your things were on, but Idia doesn't let up, not letting go of you until you both stand in his room. You're confused about why he brought you in here when you have the thing you have to do for the person and don't want to disappoint them.

Idia settles back down at his desk, unpausing his game but leaving his headset off. You turn around to leave his room, but he interrupts you before you can get to the door. "Bed's over there. You obvs need sleep if you can't even tell me what you were doing with that stuff." His eyes don't leave his computer screen when he speaks, but you can still hear the care in his voice.

Your eyes glance over at the bed that accompanies the room and can't lie to yourself that it looks really comfortable. You look back to Idia, whose attention is fully back on his game, even though his headset is still off, and then look at the door to exit the room. He doesn't look like he's going to force you to stay if you really don't want to, but you find yourself walking towards the bed anyway.

You climb in, and with the feel of blankets and pillows around you, you drift off to sleep in seconds. Idia flicks his gaze to your sleeping form, happy that you stayed and are actually getting the sleep you need.

𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒔 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒂

Malleus is always up late into the night, not needing much, if any, sleep. It's how he first discovered you were also up at that hour. He's confused at first, not knowing why you weren't in bed yet, as everyone else would have gone to sleep hours ago.

He grows curious about where you are rushing off to and decides to silently follow you to see where you are heading. You're meeting up with this person for the second night in a row since they told you they needed help again. You don't mind helping them again since they seem distraught about it, even if you are a little behind on sleep at the moment.

This goes on for a couple more days, and Malleus can see you growing more and more tired as the nights progress. He's confused about why you keep meeting up with this person, as it just looks like they're pawning off a load of work on you every night.

When he sees you walking away from the person one night, he decides to intervene. You jump when Malleus suddenly appears in front of you, holding the binder you're carrying to your chest.

"You scared me, Mal," you breathe out with a slight laugh, but he's more interested in what you're holding than anything. He reaches out his hand towards the item in your arms as if to grab it from you, and you let him, not seeing the problem in him wanting to see it.

He starts flipping through the pages, his eyebrows knit in confusion the whole time. While fully engaged with the contents he's holding, he mumbles a quiet "What is this?" It takes you a second to realize that he even said it, with how quiet and sudden it was. You answer him, even though it sounds like he was talking more to himself than to you.

You tell him that it's various things you're working on at the moment, not finding the big deal in it all, even with the lack of sleep coursing through your veins.

"But it's not for yourself." He looks up at you from the binder, shutting it closed with a thud. With the way he says it, and the look flashing through his eyes, it doesn't seem like he's looking for a response.

Without another word, Malleus walks off in the other direction with your binder tucked under his arm. Even if you wanted to attempt to stop him, he's long gone before you even get the chance to understand what's happening.

With nothing to do for the evening, you decide to catch up on some sleep at least, not planning on seeing Malleus more that night to get your things back anyway.

The next morning, you wake up feeling more refreshed than you have in days. You run into Malleus fairly quickly, which you're thankful for because if he didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be.

You ask for your stuff back, but he claims that he has no idea what you're talking about. You're confused because you distinctly remember him taking it last night, but you start wondering if it was just a dream. You see the person you've been working on stuff for and start to walk over to them, but as soon as they see you, their eyes visibly widen and they practically start running in the other direction.

You look back at Malleus to see him looking around the room nonchalantly. He sees you looking at him and smiles, walking the few paces to get to you. "Breakfast?" He takes your hand, not even bothering to wait for your response before hauling you off to get breakfast. You have the feeling that you're done working for that person.

buy me a coffee ♡

[rbfclassy]

STILL IN LOVE! #10 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs appreciated

this chapter contains smut

You walked towards the front door, slowly opening it as Toji stood there in his hoodie. “Hey,” you said, quietly.

“Hey,” he simply responded, stepping foot inside the house. “Where are they?” He asked, a slight smile on his face.

You pointed towards Megumi’s room, Toji nodding before trying his hardest to silently walk over without making any noise. He could hear Megumi playing his video game from the television and Naya laughing. Toji glanced back over his shoulder to look at you, seeing you were trying your hardest not to laugh. “Go!” You yelled in a whisper.

He finally made it to the room, staying just out of sight before he knocked on the door. “You can come in, mom,” Megumi spoke, pausing his video game.

Toji slowly swung the door open before saying, “mom?” Standing there to see his kids faces light up with excitement.

“Dad!” Megumi yelled, tossing his headphones and control to the side, running up to his father.

“Daddy!” Naya screamed, dropping her dolls and running to Toji.

“Hey!” Toji chuckled, ruffling his sons hair and hugging him with one arm while he used the other to pick his daughter up, her little arms wrapping around his neck to hug him and kiss him on the cheek.

“I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow?” Megumi questioned, looking at his father.

“Yeah! That’s what mommy said!” Naya chimed in, pouting.

You walked around the corner behind Toji with a smile on your face, arms folded across your chest. “Surprise!” You laugh. “Your dad wanted to prank you guys.”

Toji laughed along with you as he put Naya back down on the floor. “Mommy told me you guys were so sad. Really missed your old man, huh?”

Naya nodded her head, fiddling with her fingers. She turned to look at you, her eyes glowing bright like a lightbulb just went off in her head. “Mommy, can daddy stay for dinner tonight? Please, please, please, please!” She begged.

“Please, mom! You make enough food for all of us and I know dad loves your cooking! Right?” Megumi looks over towards his father.

You and Toji glance at each other as the kids beg and beg you to get him to stay. You truly didn’t mind, you usually end up always cooking extra for leftovers anyways and you knew the kids missed him like crazy. “It’s up to your father. I’m not sure if he’s busy or not.”

Almost immediately Toji answers, “I can stay.” His eyes searching yours.

“Yay!” Naya cheers, jumping up and down as she holds his hand.

“You two get back to playing and I’ll help mommy out with cooking, okay?” He looks between his two kids and they both nod at him, running back to their respective spots and going back to playing. “So, what are you making?” He asks as he trails behind you into the kitchen.

“I was thinking beef stew over white rice. Megumi has been asking for it, says it’s his favorite, so yeah,” you respond.

He chuckles at you words, “just like me, isn’t he?” Toji leans against the countertop. He watches as you grab the meat out of the fridge and the ricefrom the cabinet. There’s a few seconds of silence before he breaks it again. “Is, uh, everything sorted out between you and your boyfriend?” He asks, hoping the question didn’t come off too strong.

You scoff, “well, we’re actually no longer seeing each other anymore.” You purse your lips together, taking a deep breath.

“Shit…I’m sorry, mama. The argument couldn’t have been that bad, could it?” Toji wonders.

“It’s a little more complicated than that to him. I guess it wasn’t just about the argument.” You turn to look at him. “But what can I do? If he wants to leave, then so be it. He was a great guy, I have nothing against him, but I can’t make him stay.” You shrug. From where Toji was standing, he could see that you were hurt over the situation. He wasn’t going to keep asking questions and pry, reopening the wound again just to make you talk about it. “It just ended so quick, he ended it so quick like nothing. I just…I’m starting to think that maybe it’s me, you know?” You admit.

“No, no,” he shook his head, “don’t say that.” He placed his hand on the small of your back, trying his best to comfort you.

“I being honest, Toji. Look how I went off on you just this morning, screaming and cursing, blaming you when it was me who asked you to come. I just,” you sigh, “I just think that I need to work on myself before anything. Obviously, the kids are always first, but you get what I mean.”

Toji pulls you into his embrace, his arms wrapped around you. “I just think you’re someone who’s been through a lot. But don’t blame yourself for it, mama. No one is perfect. Hell, I should know,” he chuckled.

You laughed with him, resting your head on his shoulder. It was times like this that made you wonder if Nanami’s words were true. How effortlessly you sat in his arms, let him hold you. You trusted him so much, appreciated his words too. “Thank you, Toji.” You pulled away from him, staring into his eyes, and he stared right back. His eyes flickered down to your lips for the quickest second before you pulled away. “Alright, time to make dinner!”

“Right, what’d you need me to do?” He cleared his throat.

Megumi scarfed down his second bowl of food like he hadn’t eaten in days, taking spoonful after spoonful. You and Toji both watched him, the little boy in his own world, just nothing but him and his bowl of food. “Megs, slow down before you get a stomachache,” Toji ordered.

“I’m fine,” he spoke, mouth full of food.

“Listen to your father, Megumi,” you demanded.

The little boy looked up at both of you, sauce and rice stuck around the corners of his mouth as he put the spoon down and actually chewed his food. “Sorry,” he mumbled, grabbing his napkin. His bowl now empty.

“I’m done, mommy!” Naya showed you her empty bowl.

“Good job, baby girl. Go put in the sink.” You pointed into the kitchen. Megumi followed behind her, wiping his mouth and throwing it in the trash.

“Kids,” Toji mutters.

“They’re carbon copies of you—personality wise.” You roll your eyes at the man, a smirk on your face.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he playfully scoffs.

The kids walk back to the table. “Can you and daddy come tuck us into bed now?” Naya asked, rocking back and forth on the heels of her feet.

Toji stood from his chair, grabbing his daughters hand as she lead him towards her bedroom. You grabbed Megumi’s hand, following him into his. “Goodnight, sweetheart. See you in the morning.” You placed the blankets over him as he curled into bed, planting a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Night, mom.” He smiled before you walked out his room and into Naya’s just as Toji did the same.

“Goodnight, baby.” You leaned down and kissed her cheek, seeing that Toji already turned her nightlight on, the patterns decorating her ceiling.

“Goodnight,” she spoke softly. You shut off her light and closed her bedroom door, Toji doing the same with Megumi.

“They’re getting too big.” Toji smiled, but it was a bittersweet smile. It was like only yesterday when he remembers Megumi being born. A head full of black hair and chubby little cheeks. Now, he’s only two years away from being double digits.

“They’ll always be our babies no matter how old they grow.” A tired sigh left your lips, and for a brief moment you closed your eyes. Toji studied you, noticing your soft and tired expression. He thought about what Gojo had told him—to kiss you. He doesn’t know if he can despite doing it many times before. It’s too soon. You’re still hurt over Nanami, and you only allowed him to stay so late because of the kids. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome like he did before.

Just as he was about to grab his keys from his pocket, you blurted out, “you remember when we first met?” You softly chuckled at the memory, looking towards him. “You had this grumpy look on your face and you were with Gojo. I was celebrating my birthday, super drunk with my friends.”

Toji nodded, grinning. “Yeah, I remember. You stumbled between me and Gojo at the bar, interrupted our conversation just so you could order another drink,” he added. He moved closer towards you, both of you just now standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall, staring into each others eyes. “You caught my eye, had me staring for minutes on end.”

You laughed at his comment. “I could say the same. I mean, who wouldn’t stare? Tall, muscular man with dark hair and a handsome face? I was sure every girl in there wanted you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yet, I was only looking at you. The birthday girl.” He stared at you with soft eyes. “And then that birthday girl soon turned into the mother of kids and my wife. I couldn’t ask for anything better.” Suddenly, he gently grabbed your hand. Toji contemplated on whether he wanted to express his true feelings right now. And he knows he’s already told you so many times before, shown you so many times before, but that light of hope won’t die inside of him no matter what. “You were the best thing in life. You still are. You and the kids. I think about you so much, so fucking much, y/n. And I miss you so much, mama. I really do. I miss being a family. I fucked it all up…” He shook his head, lightly squeezing your hand in his.

“I was jealous,” you admitted. “Back when you were with that girl, when you dropped the kids off. I was jealous, hurt. I…I thought that maybe all of those nights and mornings we spent together even after the divorce…I had thoughts of getting back together with you,” you said in a soft tone. “But, then I saw her and knew you were spending more time with her and I felt like I was being used until you found someone else to fill what I couldn’t for so long. I just thought that if I forgot and moved on, then we could put this all behind us. I was trying to deny it. I was so wrong.”

Toji’s hand cupped your face, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheek. You melted into his touch, letting out a shaky breath. “I was only trying to do the same, but I did it in the worst way possible. No matter who I tried to replace you with, I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t the same. They weren’t my wife. So that’s why I always came back to you, mama. You and the kids are my home, my heart. I don’t know where we went wrong in our marriage, but I’d be a damn fool if I didn’t try and fix it. I’m in love with you. I never stopped loving you.”

Tears pooled in your eyes and it felt like everything you’ve been so unsure about became clear. “I…I love you too, Toji. Fuck, I love you.” You finally were able to speak your true feelings instead of shoving them away, pushing them into pits of darkness. His eyes searched yours before he decided to push all his second thoughts aside, planting his lips on yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in closer as you kissed him back. Your skin felt hot, his hands roaming all over your body, kissing you like a starved man.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much, mama,” he panted, speaking between kisses. “I don’t think you understand just how much you’re on my mind. I should’ve never let you go.” Both of you fumbled into your bedroom, Toji shutting and locking the door behind him without breaking the kiss.

Your back connected with the plush bed, Toji’s mounting you. Your hands snaked up under his shirt, trying to remove it. He pulled away from the kiss with a devilish smirk, reaching for the shirt and pulling it over his to exposed his muscular build. Not wasting another second, Toji helped you remove your shirt, earning a chuckle when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra.

It feels like forever since he’s seen you like this, since he’s been so vulnerable with anyone. He pulls down your shorts along with your panties, tossing the articles of clothing on the floor. You shut your legs together as Toji’s removed the rest of his clothing. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

“Don’t be shy, mama, come on.” He glided a hand down the side of your abdomen.

“I know, it’s just we haven’t done this in a while,” you shyly say.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, yeah? Making love to you ten years straight,” he chuckled. “Let me see her, wanna make you feel good.” He sunk down onto his knees, big hands gently opening your legs, pushing them back to your chest as he set eyes upon your pussy. “Fucking hell,” he muttered. “As pretty as I remember.”

A small gasp left your lips at the feel of his tongue dipping between your folds. His hands held your legs back while his tongue circled around your clit. Your hand immediately tangled in his hair, small whimpers leaving your lips as you tried not to be too loud. He sucked on your clit before lifting his head with a pop, pressing kisses to your inner thighs and the outside of your pussy, teasing you. “Taste so good, baby,” he moaned, licking a long stripe from your fluttering hole to your aching clit once again.

“Ah, Toji,” you moaned, raking your fingers through his black hair. “Oh my god.” Your eyes rolled back, the tip of his tongue penetrating your hole. “Mmm, fuck,” you panted.

Toji spit onto your pussy before slurping your juices, licking up every last drop as he focused on your swollen clit. “Oh, fuuuck. I love the way you taste.”Your hands clasped over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your moans, the pleasure starting to build up, your skin hot to the touch. It was so intense. You lifted your head, watching the way he devoured you, licking, sucking, and slurping like his life depended on it. You nearly came on the spot when he looked up at you, dark and lustful eyes staring right back at you. He lifted his head, his chin coated in your juices. “Good job, mama. Keep those eyes on me. I wanna look into them while you cum.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “Yes, yes, right there, baby.” Your brows furrowed in pleasure, toes curled as ecstasy coursed through your veins. “Oh shit, I’m getting close,” you moaned. Toji pushed your thighs back further, feeling your fight against him when the feeling became too much.

“You gonna cum?” He cooed. You nodded, whimpering when you felt him slip two fingers in. “You’re so wet, oh fuck,” he breathed out. He curled his fingers up to hit your g-spot, doing a ‘come hither’ motion. He watched as your eyes rolled back, jaw slack and the way your body shuddered under his touch. His tongue laid flat on your clit as he practically made out with your pussy, watching the way you struggled to keep yourself sitting up.

“Toji!” You squeaked, feeling your orgasm approaching quickly. “You’re gonna make me cum, oh—ah, shit, shit—mmph!” You put your hand over your mouth once again as your orgasm raked through your body, falling back onto the bed as your entire body quivered at his touch and your eyes rolled back. He didn’t stop until he drew your entire orgasm out of you, making sure you enjoyed every last second and felt every last bit of pleasure.

“That’s my fucking girl,” he praised, pressing kisses to your thighs as you came down from your high. Those kisses soon reached higher, traveling up your stomach, then on your sternum, then your neck, and lastly your lips. Your hands cupped his face, tasting yourself on his tongue as he settled between your legs. “Look at me while I put it inside,” he whispered, his forehead pressed against yours.

Biting your lip, you nodded, and spread your legs a little further for him. Toji shuddered as he aligned himself with your entrance, taking every chance to tease you and himself. The tip of his cock rubbed up and down your slit, nudging at your clit and sliding between your folds. It felt like the breath was sucked out of your lungs when he finally slipped inside, pushing slowly, inch by inch, making eye contact with you the whole way through. The stretch made you wince slightly, always forgetting just how thick he was, but it was so deliciously intoxicating. “Feels so good already,” you mumbled against his lips.

Finally, he bottomed out, his cock throbbing inside of you before slowly started moving. “Ah, fuck, you’re already clenching around me,” he breathily chuckled, picking up his pace, your body rocking back and forth. “Feel so fucking good wrapped around me—oh shit.” Your legs were pushed up to your chest, your arms wrapped around his neck as you tried to pull him in closer than he already was. His cock dragged along your walls, pulling out before slamming right back into you. “I’m gonna go faster, baby,” he warned, wrapping his arms around your body, settling his head in the crook of your neck.

His hips began moving at a much faster pace than before, the tip of his cock reach deep inside of you, grazing over your sweet spot with each thrust. He squeezed at your flesh, holding onto you like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck!” You squealed, sucking in a breath. Your nails clawed at his back, hands sneaking up to rest in his hair while he fucked you into the mattress.

“You’re doing so well for me, beautiful—ah, oh shit,” he moaned as you squeezed around him, sucking him in. Toji lifted his head to look at you, his lips connecting with yours, passionately kissing you, tongues messily moving against one another. You moaned into the kiss, his hips repeatedly slamming against yours, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He felt like he was on cloud nine, head spiraling. Your two sweaty bodies pressed up against each other while he whispered dirty things into your ear. Filthy moans and whimpers leaving your mouth while you begged for more. “Fuck,” he groaned. He pushed deeper, practically putting you in a mating press, your legs over his shoulders.

“Toji!” You cried out. “It’s too much—fuck I think I’m gonna cum again.” You were barely able to speak, broken moans filling the room. “Yes, yes, right there,” you whimpered, clawing at his biceps. “Please, don’t stop,” you begged, staring at him in desperation.

“I know, mama, I know. I’m sorry, you just—ngh, fuck—feel so fucking good,” he moaned out. His hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, his cheeks a rosy red as the light reflected off of his sweaty body, defining his muscles. “You make it so hard to control myself. Driving me fucking crazy,” he panted. You immediately pulled him down for a sloppy kiss as he kept drilling your sweet spot over and over again until your legs were shaking, sending your body into overdrive. Your eyes screwed shut as your orgasm hit you like tsunami, body quivering as you held onto Toji with at your strength.

“I love you,” you whisper, pressing your forehead against his, a lazy smile on your lips.

Toji smirked, pecking your lips one more time. “I love you too, baby—love you so much.” He kissed you again. His thrusts grew sloppier and harder, his orgasm approaching. “Ngh, shit!” He grunted. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep looking at me like that,” he let out a breathy chuckle.

“Cum in me,” you whimpered, nodding at him.

“Mama, don’t say that—fuck! Please, don’t,” he whimpered. Those three words drive him crazy, and you out of everyone knew that. It didn’t help how deep he was inside of you either.

“Please, Toji,” you cup his face and place your lips on his. “Cum in me, baby.” You whisper against his lips.

Toji let out a shaky moan, his hips stuttering with each thrust. “Oh, fuck, don’t…don’t do that to me—oh my fucking god you’re squeezing around me. Shit!” He breathes heavily, chest heaving up and down. He can’t contain himself, losing all self control when you beg him once again, pulling him in close. A series of moans and grunts fall past his lips when he pushes deep inside, fucking you hard and slow, filling you up. Slowly he pulls out, leaving your legs quivering. “Oh my god, come here.” He grabs your jaw, pulling you in for a kiss, his tongue moving against yours. “Breathe, baby,” he kisses you, “just breathe.” He places his lips on yours again. “That’s it, mama, deep breaths.”He tries to catch his breath, lying down beside you. “Shit.” He stares up at the ceiling with a soft smile, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He feels you snuggle in beside him, resting your head on his chest. He looks down at you, snaking his arm around your waist. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah, I just need to catch my breath.” You nod, placing your hand on his chest. “I can’t believe we just did that,” you said, shocked before laughing.

“Does that mean I get stay for breakfast?” He asked, jokingly. You slap him on his arm, rolling your eyes at him. “Ow!”

“You just came inside me and you’re asking if you can stay for breakfast?” You lift your head, brow raised with a playful smile on your face.

“Can’t a guy be gentleman?” He shrugs.

“You’re insufferable,” you mumble as you lean in, pecking his lips.

“Well you’re possibly gonna give me a third kid so you gotta put up with it, mama.” He smiles against your lips before landing a slap on your ass.

“Ow!” You gasp.

“Payback,” he says, smugly. Both of you sit in silence for a few, enjoying each other’s company, eyes closed, and the only thing you can hear is the sound of both of you breathing. “I love being like this with you.” He breaks the silence. His fingers trace patterns on your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body. “No fighting, nothing. Just us. I want that back forever.”

“I miss it too, but we can’t just jump straight back into it. I know we literally just had sex,” you laugh, “but let’s take the whole relationship thing slow, yeah?”

“I’ll wait however long.” He brushes a hand against your cheek, looking over your features. “Just wanna be able to call you my wife again, put an even bigger ring on your finger. I wanna do right by you and the kids this time. I should’ve never taken you for granted.” He cups your cheek. “I’m lucky that you’re even giving me another chance.” He takes your hand, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “You’re so special to me. I want you to know that.”

You sniffle a little, tears brimming your eyes—happy tears. “Just don’t fuck it up. I don’t know if I could stand going through that all over again, Toji.” You slightly frown, squeezing his hand.

“I don’t think I’d be able to stand it either,” he admitted. “I love you too much. I’m sorry for acting like a fucking idiot in the past.” Gently stroking your cheek.

“Can you hold me?” You asked, voice soft and delicate. He doesn’t respond, he just wraps his arms around you and pulls you on top of him, pulling the blankets over you. His rubs his hand up and down your back, soothing you.

“We have to get cleaned up in a little bit, okay? Don’t fall asleep,” he murmurs against your forehead before pressing a kiss to it. You nod in response, shutting your eyes slowly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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[chheolie]

[⚾] where seokmin can't wait for his son to grow up and play baseball with him.

"papapapa." it was already the sixth or seventh time you heard your baby babbling that word, the small voice echoing in the room. it was late afternoon, and you were sitting on the couch, watching your child play with the toys scattered on the soft carpet. but something seemed to be missing. the baby's curious eyes wandered around the room, searching for something or someone. you knew perfectly well what—or rather, who—he was looking for. seokmin, your husband, loved to practice baseball on his days off, and that day, he was taking longer than usual to return home.

the baby began to get restless with the absence of his dad, making faces and emitting small sounds in an attempt to get attention. his big, curious eyes explored the environment while he babbled once again: "papapa." this time, there was a confused expression on his little face, as if he was trying to understand why dad wasn't there.

you watched as he crawled to the bedroom where seokmin usually told stories before bed, but upon arriving there, he found the space empty. a gentle ache filled your chest as you saw the little one so distressed, and you followed him into the room.

"my love, appa isn't here," you murmured, picking him up and feeling the tenderness of the moment. it was impressive how, even so small, he already showed so much affection and longing for his dad.

determined to cheer up your child, you went to the closet and carefully took out the tiny jersey that seokmin had kept with so much love. it was a dodgers shirt with the number 17 on the back, along with an mlb cap from new era, also from the dodgers. items that seokmin had bought excitedly while you were still pregnant, eager for the future.

with the baby in your arms, you dressed him in the jersey, which was still a bit big, and adjusted the cap, which was also too large for his little head. seeing him dressed like this, a miniature version of seokmin, you couldn't help but smile. the baby watched you curiously, a smile lighting up his face as if he understood what was about to happen.

"shall we go see appa?" you asked, knowing that while he might not understand all the words yet, "appa" was one he knew well. the answer came in the form of a joyful giggle.

you grabbed the diaper bag and walked leisurely to the field where seokmin usually trained. the air was fresh, and your child observed the colors and sounds along the way, his eyes shining with fascination.

upon arriving at the field, you spotted seokmin running around the bases, fully focused on the practice. his teammates were also busy, each in their position. still holding the baby, you stopped near the fence and watched seokmin for a moment. he seemed so at ease there, playing baseball, as if he were performing on stage, and you felt a wave of pride for him.

one of seokmin's friends noticed your presence and waved, catching his attention. "seokmin, look who's here!" he shouted, pointing in your direction.

seokmin stopped and turned immediately, a smile already forming before he even saw you. when he finally realized it was you and your child, his eyes sparkled with joy. he dropped the baseball glove on the ground and ran towards you, his heart racing with happiness. the baby laughed with excitement in your arms, recognizing the familiar figure quickly approaching.

"look at this outfit!" seokmin exclaimed when he got close, laughing as he took the baby in his arms. "you're dressed just like appa."

the baby held seokmin's face with his tiny hands, still laughing with joy at seeing his dad. seokmin lifted him in the air and brought him close, kissing his cheek with affection.

"sorry for showing up without warning," you said, smiling as you watched the scene, "but he kept calling for you all afternoon. i thought bringing him here would cheer him up."

"are you serious?" seokmin asked, surprised, a huge smile on his face. "he was calling for me?"

you nodded, caressing his face. seokmin leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss. "were you waiting for appa?" he asked the baby, who laughed at recognizing the word.

"i told you…" you laughed, amused.

seokmin turned to his friends, proudly showing off his son. "look who came to beat you all!" he said loudly, with pride.

"i can't wait for him to grow up and come play with me," he confessed to you, his gaze still fixed on the baby.

you laughed, crossing your arms and pretending to be worried. "oh? and who’s going to take care of me when you two are out on the field? am i going to be left alone at home?"

"it's not like that, love, i just…" he tried to explain, but you interrupted him with a gentle kiss, and he smiled, feeling his heart warm.

the two of you smiled, and you watched the man you loved hold your son with such care.

you and the little one sat on the small bleachers, now more relaxed, still fascinated by the environment and by the presence of his dad. you adjusted his cap and positioned him on your lap so he could see seokmin in action on the field.

seokmin focused on the game, but not before blowing kisses to his son, who laughed at the sight. you laughed along, charmed by the scene.

the game continued for a while longer until the baby finally began to get sleepy, perhaps lulled by the rhythm of the game or by the comfort of being close to his dad. when the game ended, seokmin waved at you, and you had the baby relaxed in your arms.

he ran towards you, still smiling, his face sweaty. gently, he took the baby, who was already fast asleep, and slung the diaper bag over his shoulder.

"he was exhausted from looking for you earlier," you said softly, as you watched seokmin adjust the baby in his arms. "but now that he's seen you, he's at peace."

seokmin smiled, looking at the baby sleeping so soundly. "thank you for bringing him here. i had no idea how much i missed you both while i was training."

you started walking back home, taking your time. seokmin held the bag in one hand and kept the baby secure against his chest with the other. you, in turn, carried seokmin's glove with the baseball inside.

"i'm not sure how i feel about having another baseball player in the house," you teased, tossing the ball in the air. "he seems to have taken a liking to being on the field."

seokmin chuckled softly, his eyes shining with happiness. "i admit, i can't wait to see him running around the field, with the same passion i have," he said, looking at you lovingly. "but we can fix that."

"how?" you asked, curious.

he stopped walking for a moment and, still holding the baby, pulled you closer, intertwining his fingers with yours. "we can have another one…"

you smiled, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours, and continued walking together along the quiet street. in the silence of the night, the sound of your footsteps mingled with the baby's soft snores. "i love you, seokmin," you said, squeezing his hand.

"i love you too, y/n. thank you for today."