#the hour i spent doing this was fun c:

[hotdogmchiggin]

Hey anyone wanna see some of my old splatoon miiverse art.

Most of these were drawn for splatfests so they make more sense in that context lol. Like the venusaur was for the pokemon Red vs Blue splatfest.

[hellbatschilt]

Oh it was so worth getting the new mount on both of them

[norrizzandpia]

So American (OB38)

Summary: To the song So American by Olivia Rodrigo. In which a Brit and an American fall so deeply in love with each other.

Warnings: suggestive scenes, language, so much fluff omg, reader is from America (specifically California), reader wants to be a writer and loves Jane Austen, reader loves London, idk if you can tell yet but this is HEAVILY indulgent, reader goes to University of San Francisco (that part is not self indulgent lol)

Note: I couldn’t help myself ive had this idea for too long, my debut Ollie Bearman fic! I hope you like it because i do 🤭

Eighteen and baby-faced, Y/n thought her trip to London with her best friends would be fun and outrageous. She expected when they touched down in Heathrow that the trip would bring countless amounts of unique memories. It was part of their celebration of completion in their first year in college, a week-long trip to one of their favorite places to welcome the desperately needed summer.

None of them expected for Y/n to slam into a tall body when they were running to a musical before the doors closed and none of them expected that tall body to be that of another eighteen year old who found the short, American girl too cute to tear his eyes away from.

Ollie hadn’t been expecting much when he decided to take a day trip into London, wanting to spend the day wandering around one of his favorite cities. Though, when his eyes graced him the vision of y/h/c hair and a flushed girl frazzled in front of him, he knew it would be one to remember.

She was short, almost too short as his neck craned down to meet her eyes and the two murmured out apologies as he knelt down to pick up her bag that had dropped when they both rounded the same corner too fast.

Her ID slipped out, California’s name in bold letters right at the top and made Ollie laugh.

”American?” He smiled as Y/n’s friends glanced at each other from the side.

Y/n grinned, “Yep, American.”

Part of him knew getting into business with someone who lived on another continent couldn’t be smart, but he couldn’t bear to think of not seeing her again. Her beauty struck him and there were no thoughts in his mind when he asked for her number when she mumbled something about having to leave.

Y/n’s wide eyes turned around to meet his once more, “My number?”

Ollie nodded, his hand in his pocket and clutching his phone, “Your number.”

Her friends behind her giggled before shoving her toward the British boy who they had no idea was not your average or normal eighteen year old. Y/n took his phone lightly and pressed the correct digits. When she returned it, her name staring back at him, he blushed, “Y/n. That’s cute.”

Her cheeks warmed just like his as her friends began tugging on her hand and yelling about making the showtime, “What’s your name?!” She yelled as they dragged her away.

He waved with a beam, “Ollie!”

Ollie. That’s cute.

—

That summer, Y/n never went back to California. The moment she began talking with Ollie and he began taking her out on dates before she was supposed to leave, she knew there would be no way she could leave him. She canceled her flight back after Ollie had begged her to stay, and told her friends they needed to go back without her, that there was something more she needed to explore in London.

The girls had anticipated it, honestly. When they had seen the dazed grin on their friend’s face every time she came back from seeing the boy, they knew there was not enough willpower to hold her back from changing plans.

She would come back for the next school year, but it was clear if things went well, which they seemed they would be, she would stay for the summer.

And that she did.

Ollie forced her around all of England, showing her his favorite nooks and crannies of the country he grew up in. They would spend hours in his car as he drove her around, to the end of the country and back, just so she could experience his favorite view too. Their moments spent together forced the two to get to know each other wholly. Y/n found out about his racing career, gaped at him when he mentioned his Formula 1 race, and Ollie found out about her mundane life as a student at University of San Francisco. Honestly, he loved how regular she was. He craved her stories of college parties and nights spent up until three AM trying to turn in a paper. He loved her life stories. She loved his. They made for a good duo.

When the end of the two months drew near, tears were shed and words of distance were stressed. As they stood at the entrance to Heathrow, Ollie held Y/n in his arms and promised to find another time for her to come visit him, or one where he would come visit her. He was insistent and while they wouldn’t say it then, they were already in love.

That proved true a few months later, after calls and texts back and forth, when Y/n turned up at Heathrow once more. She was on Christmas break, one that granted her time to see her boyfriend, and while her family had been supportive of her skipping the holiday to go see someone that clearly made her so happy, she still felt a bit guilty to cancel. Though, that feeling diminished when she descended down the escalator and found Ollie holding a large sign with her name on it in pinks and greens, a large smile on his face as she yelped out and sprinted toward him.

“OLLIE!” Her bags dropped and she flew into his arms as he yelled her name back, the sign he had worked so hard on thrown to the floor the moment she got close.

He kissed her cheek and the two were looked upon adoringly by bystanders in the airport as he gently set her down on the ground, kissing her softly and whispering how much he had missed her.

When he led her out of the doors, all her belongings in his hands, they smiled brightly at each other as if to confirm how much they would make this month worth their while.

—

Drivin’ on the right-side road, he says I’m pretty wearin’ his clothes. And he's got hands that make hell seem cold. Feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem I wish I wrote. I wish I wrote.

Ollie clutched Y/n’s thigh as he drove to their favorite spot, one he had shown her during the summer. Her head lulled to the side, staring at him lightly and lovingly right when he glanced at her, his eyes roaming over her body.

Her eyebrows pulled together, “What?”

He smirked, “You look pretty wearing my clothes.” His fingers traced up her stomach to tug on his sweatshirt that adorned her upper body. The way it draped largely over her made his heart warm and how she had the hood pulled up over her messy hair made him want to pull the car over and kiss her silly.

She looked cozy. Cozy enough that his hand traveled under the material to rest around her waist. His warm hands made her feel more sleepy, the clock in the car reading a time too early, as she cuddled further into herself. Ollie noticed the yawn that drew from her and smiled to himself, his eyes averting back to the lonely road they were on.

“Can I put my feet on the dash?” She murmured, eyes closing and head tucking further into his sweatshirt.

Ollie patted her leg, “Sure, baby. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

He turned the music down enough for her to find sleep again and when her phone pinged beside him, he glanced down randomly. His head had snapped back up before he could genuinely realize the notification he had seen. When it dawned on him what he might’ve seen, his eyes drifted down once more and tapped the screen to see it again.

A notification from In-n-Out stayed put on her screen and he stifled a laugh before whispering, “Oh, she’s so American.”

—

And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.

Ollie howled from laughter as Y/n giggled, her joke going over better than she expected. She knew it was funny, but she didn’t think the red in his face from not breathing was necessary. Still, she admired the way he admired her and went along with his hysterics. When his breathing regulated and his hunched over position came back to a seated one on the cold bench in Hyde Park, her stares were finally noticed by him.

”What?” He asked, arm wrapping around her shoulder as he shoved a piece of croissant in his mouth. He offered the last piece to Y/n and she took it, murmuring before putting it in her mouth, “Nothing. You just think I’m funny.”

Ollie’s eyebrows rose and he blew out a breath, “I think you’re hilarious.”

”I wonder how much you’ll laugh with me when you’re wasted.” Y/n’s head cocked to the side as she lost herself to thoughts.

Ollie giggled, “Probably an annoying amount when I’m pissed.”

Y/n’s jaw dropped in horror, “Not when you’re pissed! Don’t pee yourself!”

The couple turned to each other in confusion, Ollie fully taken aback, “Who said anything about peeing themselves?!”

Y/n jabbed a finger into his chest, “You did!”

Ollie pushed her softly, his hand on her waist drawing her back to him, “No, I didn’t!”

Her head fell into his chest in a fit of laughter, “Yes! I was talking about getting drunk and then you just brought up pissing yourself!”

In a moment of realization, Ollie found himself howling with laughter again. His hands clutched her frozen ones in the midst of winter before he got out, “It means the same thing! Wasted and pissed! Drunk!”

Her mouth fell open as she began to understand. Then, she pulled a face, “Why would you British people say pissed? That’s weird.”

Ollie gasped with a smile, “Hey! Don’t be rude.”

She crossed her arms, “You’re the one that insinuated peeing yourself.”

Ollie groaned and scrambled from the seat, running away from her with loud laughter, “Get away from me, American!”

She got up, rushing after him, with strangers giving them questionable looks as they began running through the bushes and trees of Hyde Park,

As she followed after him, his smile getting caught in her mind, she realized she had never felt this way about anyone. Sure, she had had guys in the past, but none of them compared to Ollie. The time they spent together, whether over the phone or in the actual presence of the other, always left her with a fuzzy feeling. A fuzzy feeling she always wanted to feel. The idea of forever was premature, but she was beginning to believe she was in love with the boy running away from her and jokingly berating her for being American. If she was in love, why not entertain the idea of marriage in her daydreams?

When she reached him, falling into his arms roughly with continued giggles, he leaned in and kissed her softly. The look in Ollie’s eyes when he pulled back made her think he might just be in love with her too.

Maybe they could entertain the idea of marriage in their daydreams together.

—

God, I’m so boring and I’m so rude. Can’t have a conversation if it’s not all about you; the way you dress and the books you read. I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he’s with me, when he’s with me.

Y/n brushed her teeth in the white of Ollie’s bathroom, his parents having generously let her stay in their home during her stay for Christmas. Her best friend, Charlotte, stared back at her from the phone. Their FaceTime had just started and Y/n hadn’t waited to say any greetings before jumping into rambling about Ollie.

”Charlotte, I’m so obsessed with him. I think it’s unhealthy.” She laughed, Charlotte laughing with her. Ollie eavesdropped on the other side of the door. “He’s so sweet and attentive. He remembers all the little things and even suggests things he thinks I’ll love. Which I always do. The other day, we were walking around Sussex and he saw this small book in a window and forced me into the shop. Turns out he had found a Jane Austen Pride and Prejudice First Edition. He told me he remembered how much I loved that movie and that storyline. He even referenced exact sentences that I had said in the midst of my rant about how much I love Jane Austen books. I looked at the price tag, holy shit, Char, it was so expensive. I made him leave the store immediately because the look on his face told me he needed no convincing in buying it for me. I thought I was in the clear, but apparently he’s friends with the owner of that store, so he went in early the morning after, while I was still asleep, and bought it for me. He surprised me with it along with breakfast in bed. I almost cried, Char. He’s even started reading it with me because he knows how much I love it.”

Charlotte’s eyes twinkled at the look on her friend’s face. Charlotte loved Ollie for the way he treated Y/n. “That is fucking insane. This man is in love with you, Y/n.”

Ollie’s heart exploded in his chest from the other side of the door. He had been caught.

Y/n’s whispering was loud enough for him to hear, “I think I’m in love with him too. I can’t get over his smile and his favorite pair of shoes that he most definitely needs to repurchase. I love his humor and how much he wants to make me happy. I love how he makes me feel so wanted and important. I love everything about him from his ratty Ferrari sweatshirt to the moles on his cheek.”

Ollie almost started giggling, jumping up and down like a schoolgirl, at her confession. He was ecstatic. This feeling was better than when he scored points in his first Formula 1 race. Yet, he didn’t want to let her know he knew yet. He wanted to plan something, something big that would show how serious he was about her.

The two friends hung up the phone after Y/n realized what time it was and rattled off to Charlotte about Ollie waiting for her in bed. Charlotte tried not to point out the suggestive nature of her statement, but she failed. “Use protection!” She yelped just as the phone hung up. Y/n stood in the threshold to Ollie’s bedroom, him staring back at her as the two took in Charlotte’s warning.

Ollie flopped down into the sheets, Y/n falling right into his arms. He kissed her neck and whispered, “She doesn’t need to worry. We will.”

They wouldn’t end up falling asleep until far into the night.

—

I apologize if it’s a little too much, just a little too soon, but if the conversation ever were to come up I don’t want to assume this stuff. But, ain’t it love? I think I’m in love.

Ollie couldn’t wait to tell her. Let her know that he felt the same way. And Y/n couldn’t wait to tell him about her most favorite idea, one she had come up in the wake of telling her best friend how much she loved her boyfriend. Neither of them knew the other had something so serious to discuss as they drove down the quiet street. Ollie had shoved her in the car, telling her he was taking her to a picnic under the stars. He threw his coat over her, taking his other for himself, and drove the few minutes before arriving at the open grass area near his house. He helped her out of the car, leading her to the trunk to get the box of food his mother had helped him make in preparation for this, and found a perfect spot with the clearest view of the sky.

The cold, winter air made them curl into each other, creating the perfect amount of warmth to stay. Y/n didn’t know how to breach her topic as they popped spoonfuls of soup into their mouths. Ollie beat her to it.

“Can I tell you something?” He whispered, finding her soft eyes.

She nodded, “Of course, baby.”

He sighed, putting his soup off to the side and trying to rid his body of unnecessary nerves. He knew she felt the same. Still, his hands shook slightly, not from the cold, “You have completely wrecked my life. You were so unexpected and not something I was ever anticipating, but I am so happy you fell into my life, Y/n. I will always look back on that moment at that random corner in London with so much love because…” He took a deep breath, “I love you and that was the start of you and me.”

Y/n’s face beamed and she set her soup down, throwing herself into Ollie. He fell backward, the two falling into a heap of limbs on the blanket below them. She kissed his face all over with sloppy, lovesick kisses, “Ollie! I love you too!”

He would never get over how her voice sounded whenever she said his name. Sure, she had said it in annoyed manners before when he had ticked her off, but, even then, he loved the way her accent sounded around the syllables. Never did he think he would be putting American accents first before British ones on his list of most beloved accents. Though, he was beginning to find that her smiling face was getting him to do a lot of crazy things lately. Like, buying a book worth thousands of dollars and reading it along with her. Chilling.

She tapped the back of his palms before tugging lightly on his fingers, “I have something to run past you.”

He nodded, pulling her between his legs and stroking her back. She let her legs wrap around his waist as they continued to sit on the blanket, “You know how much I want to be a writer? The reason why I’m studying English and everything?”

Ollie continued nodding, tilting his head as to tell her he had no clue where this was going.

She cleared it up quickly, however, when she nervously rambled, “What if I transferred to a UK university?”

Ollie’s heart almost flew from his chest, “Like, move here?”

She gave a small smile, “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always wanted to move here and study here. I love it here. But, now,” She kissed his lips, “I have more of a reason to. Would that be something you’d be okay with?”

He scoffed, “Would that be something I’d be okay with?! Fuck, yeah! Oh my God, Y/n, please move here. Holy shit, move here.” He begged with the cheekiest grin on his face.

She laughed, “Okay, okay. I still have to be accepted, but I have good chances with my grades and everything.”

Ollie shook her body lightly, “No, you’ll be accepted. If I start a manifestation journal specifically for this, would you judge me?”

Y/n cackled, “No, go right ahead. Tap into that spiritual force, Bearman.”

He kissed her hard, happy it seemed to work out for them. God, he wanted it to work out for them so bad.

—

And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.

ONE YEAR LATER

Y/n walked down the street to her dorm, a quizzical look etched into her face as she rounded the corner and ran into a hard body. Her eyes found his familiar ones from her position below him and his smile welcomed her home after a long day.

Ollie laughed, “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

She tucked herself under his arm as they began walking, “You just need to stop walking so fast.”

He laughed at her comment before leaning down and kissing her cheek, “How was your day?”

She groaned, “So long. English in a UK university is much more in depth than I was expecting. It puts American colleges to shame. Plus, for lunch, the waiter screwed up my order.”

Ollie frowned, “Oh, no. What’d they mess up?”

Y/n gave him a sad smile, “I asked for chips with my sandwich and they gave me French fries.”

There was silence before Ollie shook his head with a soft smile, “Baby, French fries are chips here.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, “What do you mean?”

He playfully rolled his eyes, “No one says French fries here. If you want that, it’s chips.”

She stood in front of him in a stance that suggested this was an outrage. He chuckled at her, “Then, what do I say if I want chips?!”

He pushed her hair away from her face lovingly, “Crisps, love.”

She huffed and turned away, walking down the sidewalk before he quickly caught up with her. She grumbled from under his arm, “You need to teach me these crazy discrepancies.”

Ollie nodded and kissed her hair, “It’s not my fault you’re so American, but sure, I will. We can start now.”

Apparently, that sufficed for her as she let out an agreeing noise, “Yeah, so where are we going for this date.”

He put his finger to his lips and shushed her, “No, it’s a surprise.”

Her mind loved the fact that he was so obsessed with planning their outings by himself. She loved how much he initiated everything. She had never felt so taken care of. She always envied the girls loved wholly by their boyfriends and now she had that for herself. There would be no day that would come that she took advantage of the boy she fell in love with two summers ago.

She shrugged, “You better be happy I trust you so much, I’d follow you into a dark cave without any questions.”

Ollie squeezed her, “I mean, I follow you anywhere you go, so if you’re not going into that cave, I’m not either.”

He pulled her down the stairs to the Tube as he slipped her backpack off her body and onto his. She kissed him in appreciation, “So, it’s settled. No dark caves.”

Ollie shook his head and led her to the place they needed to be. He held her hand tightly as they weaved through the crowds, his head flicking behind him to check on her frequently before just pushing her in front of him, his hands around her waist as he steered her.

When they got to their platform, he added his last thought to their conversation, “We need to get married first before wandering into dangerous caves.”

He said it so nonchalantly, it made her fall in love with him more. And when he met her eyes after he was met with silence, he found overwhelming joy within them.

He kissed her in the midst of the chaos underground, his hands cradling her face and hers loosely around his waist. They were a sight for sore eyes, but no one saw them in the midst of their special moment.

It was just for themselves and would be referred back to in the coming years as the moment where their forever really started.

Bloody hell, they were so in love.

[joeshiestyslover]

fuck it i love you- c. sturniolo

pairing: fratboy!chris sturniolo x academicweapon!reader

summary: you and chris were on two completely opposite sides of the college spectrum. chris loves to party and hook up, and you love to stay in and do your homework. chris would never notice someone like you…right?

warnings: language, mentions of sex, angst, fluff, chris is lowkey an asshole at first but he gets better, reader is good at poker, some typos

masterlist

lowercase intended

you were never one for parties or large social gatherings in general. you are an introvert and very much a homebody, spending most of your time doing schoolwork or just lying in bed. because of this, you never made many friends as a child, and you especially never had a boyfriend.

chris was the complete opposite. chris loves parties and being around people. he can’t stand being in his house and doing nothing. since chris got to college, he spent most of his time at frat parties or hooking up with random girls. another thing about chris is that he’s never been the relationship type of guy. there was always an insane amount of girls that wanted him, but he never gave in, opting for random hookups.

you’re a sophomore in college and the only actual friend you’ve managed to make is your roommate, jasmine. she understood your introverted tendencies and respected them, but she was never afraid to urge you to get out of your comfort zone once in a while. right now, she’s trying to get you to attend a party that one of the school’s fraternities is throwing.

“come on y/n! it’ll be so fun!” jasmine begs. “i don’t like parties. i’d rather stay here and watch bridgerton.” you retort. “you’re always home and it worries me. you need actual human interaction. come on, please! i promise i won’t ask you to do anything like this again if you don’t have fun.” “i don’t know, jas.” you say skeptically. she gives you a look and you know she won’t give up until you go, so you give in. “fine.” you tell her with a roll of your eyes. she smiles and clasps her hands together. “yay! now let’s find you something to wear. i doubt you have anything, so you can borrow something of mine.” jasmine heads towards her closet and digs through until she pulls out a skintight light pink minidress. your jaw drops. “absolutely not.” “you’re wearing this y/n. it’s gonna look so good on you.” she walks over to you and throws it on your bed.

you pick it up and hold it against your body. “oh my god jas. my ass is gonna be on display!” you tell her. “don’t worry girl you have a great ass and you should show it off.” she winks. “okay the party starts in twenty minutes and we still have to get ready so come on.” jasmine leads you into the bathroom and does your hair and makeup first. she spends about half an hour on it before she finishes. you look at yourself in the mirror and gasp. “wow i look so good.” you smile at your reflection. “you’re welcome. now go get dressed.” you walk over to your bed where the dress lays and you quickly undress and throw it on, along with some clear wedges you had stuffed in the back of your closet.

jasmine finishes getting ready and she walks out of the bathroom. you both compliment each other’s looks before grabbing your purses and walking out of your dorm and towards jasmine’s car. you both get in and jasmine puts the car into drive, making her way towards the frat house.

once you both get to the party and you can hear the music thumping from outside the house. you can feel your palms begin to become sweaty and your heartbeat quicken. “jas i don’t know about this. what if something bad happens?” you ask nervously. “everything’s gonna be fine. i promise i’ll stick with you as long as you want me to, okay?” she reassures you. you slowly nod you head. you both then get out of the car and walk into the frat house. the moment you walk in, you can smell the strong scent of weed, alcohol, and sweat.

you look around and notice some people you know from your classes, all of them stoned, drunk, or both. your eyes continue to wander until you lock eyes with him. chris sturniolo. he’s easily the biggest asshole you’ve ever met. he was in your english lit class last semester and the only thing he did was show up late and extremely hungover. you can see his eyes trail down to your body and back up to your face. you roll your eyes and turn to jasmine. “we should get drinks.” you yell over the music. she nods and you both walk into the kitchen, where a vast array of drinks sit on the counter. you grab a beer out of the ice filled bucket where they sit, twist the cap off and take a drink. you look to your left and see jasmine flirting with some guy you’ve never seen before. after a few seconds, she turns to you and asks: “do you think it would be okay if i went with him? it’s totally okay if you’re not comfortable being by yourself. i’ll let him down and stay with you if you want.” you can’t help but smile at her. “it’s okay jas, i’ll be fine. i think i saw some guys playing poker and you know how much i love texas hold ‘em.” she grins and turns back to the guy and he leads her away.

you walk out of the kitchen and walk over to the table where a bunch of guys are sitting, dealing out cards. “y’all got room for one more?” you ask them. “you play?” one of the guys retorts. you nod. “yep. been playing since middle school.” “i guess we could deal you in.” he motions to one of the empty chairs. you sit as the dealer hand you the cards. you take a peek at the cards and see pocket aces. your face remains stoic as you look around at all the guys, trying to read their faces. everyone around the table checks, and so do you. the dealer puts down one card. about half of the guys fold, and a few of them raise, and of course, you match their bets. once again, everyone checks, and the dealer puts down the rest of the cards. you all then turn over all your cards, with you obviously winning. you smirk and gather all the chips to your side of the table.

before you can start the next round, chris walks over to the table. he claps one of the guys on the shoulders before his eyes find yours. he then walks up to you and you once again roll your eyes at him. “hey, what’s your name?” you ignore him and deal out the cards since it’s your turn. “c’mon don’t be like that.” he presses as he sits down next to you. you sigh and turn to him. “if i were you, i wouldn’t even bother learning my name, especially if you didn’t care to learn it last semester.” chris looks confused. “do i know you from somewhere?” you shrug. “wait,” he begins. “you’re that girl from english. the one that always asked a bunch of questions.” “guess so. do you mind? i’m in the middle of something.” you flip over the cards in front of you. “damn okay i see how it is. i’ll catch you later though.” he stands up out of the seat and you flash him a fake smile. “i hope not.” you mutter before he walks away.

you continue to play for a little while longer, surprisingly having fun. you had to admit, tonight is going a lot better than you thought it would. after winning most of the hands, you decide it’s time to head out, so you get up and say bye to the guys you were playing with. you wander through the crowd, trying to find jasmine, but she’s nowhere to be found. she must have gone home with the guy she left with earlier, so you pull out your phone and order an uber. your feet begin to ache and you spot an empty seat on a sofa, so you take a seat. you scroll on your phone for a bit before feeling the couch dip next to you. you look up and see chris sitting directly to your right. you immediately look back down at your phone, desperately wanting to avoid another conversation with him.

“you know it’s dangerous for a pretty girl like yourself to be alone at a party like this. you never know what kinda creep will try and take advantage of you.” he smirks. “i think i can handle myself, thanks.” you say back, avoiding eye contact. “hey, i’m just looking out for you, ma.” you finally turn to look at him. “don’t call me that.” “well, you never gave me your name, so…” he trails off. “you don’t need to know my name.” you say coldly. “why not?” chris tilts his head. “i don’t know what you think you’re doing, but i’m not gonna sleep with you so find another girl to bother.” you snap. before he can respond, your phone goes off, signaling that your uber arrived at the house. without a word, you stand up from the couch and walk towards the front door, leaving behind a very shocked chris.

once you got back to your dorm, you took off your makeup and changed into comfy clothes. the moment you lied down, you fell asleep, but couldn’t help but think about the brunette boy that managed to get under your skin so much.

a week later, you’re at the campus coffee shop, where you work. today isn’t a very busy day, just a few tired college kids in desperate need of coffee. you’re cleaning the tables near the back when you hear the bell ring, signifying that someone had walked into the shop. “welcome in.” you say out of habit. when you look up, your eyes meet chris’ blue ones. you walk behind the counter and plaster on the fakest smile you could muster. “what can i get you?” you ask, trying to get him out as fast as possible. “hey it’s you.” he smirks. “yes it’s me.” you roll your eyes. “what do you want?” “well, y/n,” he reads your name tag, “i would like a cappuccino and your number.” you scoff at his request. “absolutely not. i made it very clear at the party that i’m not interested in being one of your casual hookups.” “i promise i’d make it worth your while.” chris leans in closer to you. “okay buddy.” you say, unconvinced. “come on, y/n-” “not interested chris, either pay for your coffee or get out.” you tell him sternly. now, he rolls his eyes at you. “fine how much?” he pulls out his wallet. “$4.25.” he hands you a $5 and says: “keep the change.” you nod and begin making his drink.

once you finish making the cappuccino, you put the lid on it and hand it to him. “i’ll pull you one day, you know.” he smirks as he takes his drink. “in your dreams.” you retort. “i’ll see you around, ma.” chris yells as he walks out of the coffee shop. you continue the rest of your shift, still not being able to believe the audacity that boy has.

over the next few weeks, chris has been coming to your work, trying to get you to give him your number, and you shut him down every time. “come on, ma, i’m begging you, just one chance, please.” he all but begs you. “no chris, now go away i have customers to deal with.” you walk toward the register, taking a customer’s order. “what do you have to lose?” he questions. “my sanity.” you say putting in the person’s order. “what time do you get off?” “5:30. why?” you raise an eyebrow at his question. “i’ll pick you up and take you to dinner.” you laugh a little, “sure you will.” chris doesn’t say anything and walks out of the store.

sure enough, 5:30 rolls around and as you’re packing up your things in the back, you hear the bell ring. you walk out to the front and see chris at the door. you freeze. you really didn’t think chris would actually show up. “what the hell are you doing here?” you ask. “well, you get off at 5:30 right? i told you i’d pick you up.” he smiles, but it’s not a cocky smile or smirk, it’s a genuine smile. you let out a breath, knowing you can’t get out of it now. “one date. that’s it. you fuck up, you don’t get another chance.” you tell him sternly. he raises his hands in surrender. “i can be nice when i want, you know.” “uh huh, i’m sure. where are we going?” you both begin to walk out the door and chris holds it open, you mutter a small “thank you.” “where do you wanna go?” “ummm” you think, “how about mcdonald’s or something lowkey?” you suggest. “sounds perfect.” he replies, leading you to his car and opening the passenger door for you.

the car ride is relatively quiet, a few comments being made here and there, but it was mostly silent. however, it wasn’t an awkward silence, it was actually quite comfortable. you both get to the nearest mcdonald’s and order your food. it comes time to pay and you begin to pull out your card. “don’t you even dare, y/n.” chris says before you can even get your wallet out of your bag. “chris it’s really not that big of a deal.” you try to reason with him. “no y/n. i’m paying. a gentleman doesn’t make the girl pay, especially not on the first date.” he explains. “okay fine.” you relent.

the rest of the night went much smoother than you thought it would have. chris was a total gentleman and you genuinely had fun with him. at the end of the night, he drove you back to your dorm, but before you left, he asked you out on another date and you immediately said yes.

of course, you still have your reserves because of chris’ reputation around campus, but you wanted to give him a chance. you walk into your room, and see jasmine sitting on her bed. “and where have you been?” she asks. “i was out… on a date.” you say sheepishly. “a date?! with who?!” she becomes interested. “ummm i was with chris actually.” you look down at your shoes. “chris sturniolo? don’t you hate him?” she tilts her head in a confused manner. “i did, but he surprisingly isn’t that bad.” i smile at her slightly. “okay girl just be careful with him. make sure his intentions with you are good before you get too attached.” jasmine warns and you nod at her words. “of course, jas.” you walk over to your bathroom to take off your makeup and get ready for bed.

over the next couple of weeks, you and chris have been hanging out constantly. you actually enjoy his company, and he enjoys yours. you’ve managed to learn more and more about each other. you now know that chris loves hockey, he’s a triplet with his two brothers matt and nick, and he has a dog back home named trevor. all of this new information made him seem like more of an actual person to you and not some asshole you shared one class with for a single semester.

you’re currently getting ready for a party that chris had invited you to. this was the first time you would show up to a gathering like this as a ‘couple’, and you’re a little nervous. you don’t know how people would react because you being with chris is probably the most unexpected thing to happen on campus.

just as you’re putting on your shoes, chris texts you that he’s outside. you say goodbye to jas, and as you’re walking out the door you hear her yell: “be safe! text me if you need me!” you walk over to chris’ car and see him in the driver’s seat. once you open the door, he looks over at you and his jaw drops a little. “whoa. you look amazing, y/n.” you blush a little. “thanks chris.” he smiles at you and begins to drive towards the party.

you get there and can already see drunk students stumbling out the front door, something leaning over to throw up in the bushes. chris puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt. he then gets out and walks over to your side of the car, opening the door for you. he holds his hand out, and you take it. you stand up and before chris releases your hand, he leans down presses a light kiss to your knuckles. you giggle and begin to walk inside the party.

chris puts his hand on your waist and leads you over to the couch in the middle of the room. “i’m gonna grab us some drinks?” he yells over the music. “okay! i’ll be here!” you yell back, hoping he hears you. chris nods and turns to walk towards where you assume is the kitchen.

you wait for a few minutes, think it just takes a while to actually get to the drinks because of the large crowd of people in the house. you wait a little longer before deciding to go and find chris. you walk through the house and you can hear a group of male voices.

you turn the corner and see chris talking with his frat brothers, and you can’t help but listen in. “so how’s it going with that one girl you’re seeing, the smart one?” one of them asks. “her? there’s nothing going on with her. she’s just a hookup, nothing more. she means nothing to me.” he and his friends all laugh. you immediately lose your breath. you were so stupid to believe you actually meant something to chris. you should have listened to your gut, he’s just like all the rest.

you turn on your heels and walk out of the house, needing fresh air. the moment you walk outside, you break down, tears rolling down your cheeks one after another. you pull out your phone and call jasmine, knowing she’d come pick you up. the phone rings a few times before she answers, “hello?” “jas.” you say through your tears. “y/n? what’s wrong? what happened?” she immediately becomes worried. “can you come get me? i’ll explain everything to you later i just can’t be here any longer.” “of course. stay where you are, i’ll be there in a few.” you hang up the phone and look into the distance.

you then hear your name being called. you turn your head and see chris walking towards you. you look away, knowing that if you looked at him, you’d absolutely lose it. “y/n? are you okay? why’d you come out here?” he asks, completely unaware that you overheard his cruel words. “how could you chris?” he becomes confused now. “how could i what?” “do i really mean nothing to you? is getting into my pants the only thing you want from me?” you’re fighting the urge to sob. “of course not baby. who’s telling you that?” he steps closer to you and you step back, finally meeting his eyes. “you did! i heard you talking to your friends! about how i’m nothing but a hookup!” chris’ face drops. “baby no you got it all wrong. i didn’t mean any of those things i said.” “then why would you say it?! i can’t believe i trusted you! i really thought you were different, but you’re not! you’re just like all the other douchebags on this fucking campus!” you yell in his face. “y/n please i-” “save it.” you cut him off. you see jasmine’s car pull in out of the corner of your eye. “i never wanna see you again.” you tell him before walking to jasmine’s car and getting into the passenger’s seat. she swiftly pulls out and heads towards your dorm.

“what happened y/n? what’d he do to you?” she asks, worriedly. “i overheard him talking shit about me to his friends, about how i mean nothing to him.” you sniffle. “oh babe i’m so sorry. he’s such an asshole.” she reaches her right hand over to rub your back. “i should have known. i’m so fucking stupid.” you lean forwards and put your head in your hands. “no he’s stupid for not realizing what he had.” she reassures you. “i just wanna go home and go to bed.” you say. “of course, we’re almost there.” jasmine says as she continues driving.

once you get back home, you flop onto your bed, not bothering to take your makeup or clothes off. you just lie there and stare at the ceiling, thinking about chris. you thought about how sweet he could be, but it was all just a lie to get you into his bed. it’s bittersweet. you felt so humiliated, but you were glad you found out his true intentions before it was too late. you turn over and look at your phone. there are ten missed calls and about fifty text messages from chris. you shut your phone off, not wanting to deal with him right now.

the next few days, the world seems grey. you have almost no motivation to get out of bed. after a day or so, chris stopped texting you and calling you. you assumed he had given up, until he walked into your work holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a small teddy bear. you looked at him with sadness in your eyes, while chris’ eyes are filled with guilt and regret. “y/n,” he begins. “i’m so sorry for what i said. it was wrong and i promise i didn’t mean it. i just didn’t want them to shit on you for dating me. it’s okay if you don’t forgive me, but i just want you to know that i truly am sorry.” he hands you the flowers and bear. you take them hesitantly and say nothing. you nod and walk away, leaving chris behind looking broken.

chris fell in love with you the moment he laid eyes on you. not at the party, but the first day he walked into his english lit class. he quickly thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. he wanted to go up to you so bad, but based on the dirty glares you would shoot his way every time he walked into class late, he thought you wouldn’t be interested. when he saw you at the party, however, he couldn’t resist, he had to talk to you. he definitely expected you to turn him down, but he vowed that he wouldn’t give up until you agreed to go on at least one date with him. when you finally did, chris knew he was a goner. you were pretty, smart, and funny. you were perfect. the feelings that chris had for you scared him because he had never felt this way before. he didn’t know what to do. when his friends asked how you two were doing, he panicked. he knew you would get shit for dating him because you two are so different, so he told them you meant nothing, which was the furthest thing from the truth. however, he didn’t consider how those harsh words would affect you. the moment he walked outside and saw you crying, his heart broke. chris fucked up. badly. and he won’t stop until you know that he truly is sorry.

after your shift you go back to your dorm and set the teddy bear on your bed and put the flowers in a vase with water. suddenly, your phone dings, and it’s a text from chris: please let me explain what happened. i promise i’ll tell you everything. you stood there and thought about it before replying: meet me in front of the coffee shop in an hour. you shut your phone off and sit on your bed. you hold your head in your hands before you stand up to change into one of chris’ hoodies that you took and some sweats.

about 45 minutes go by before you’re grabbing your phone and keys and walking out of your dorm and towards the coffee shop. once you get there, you see chris standing outside. once he hears your footsteps, chris turns his head and watches you walk up to him. he smiles a bit seeing you in his hoodie, and his hopes raise just a little.

“y/n. hi.” he says nervously. you just nod at him, not knowing what to say. “look y/n, i know i fucked up. what i said was horrible and i can’t excuse that i just… you scare me.” your eyebrow raises “i scare you? why?” you question him, confused. “because you’re so perfect. you have your life together, you know what you want, and i’m just me.” he says desperately.” you’re still confused. “but that doesn’t make any sense.” chris sighs. “fuck it. y/n i’ve been in love with you for a long time, and i know i’ve never said that and maybe now isn’t the best time to tell you that, but it’s how i feel. i swear if you give me one more chance, i’ll do better. i’ll be better. just please let me prove it to you.” chris begs. you stand there, shifting your feet. you bite the inside of your cheek as you process what he just told you. “you love me? you aren’t just saying that?” you ask. chris steps towards you and cups your cheeks with his hands. “i love you, y/n. i love you so much it’s honestly terrifying, but all i want is to be with you.” he looks into your eyes and you know he’s being honest. “chris.” you begin. “yes?” he asks, hopefully. “kiss me.” chris grins and leans down to capture your lips with his, smiling into the kiss. you break away after a few seconds. “but if you ever pull some shit like this again, i’ll cut your dick off christopher.” he laughs out loud. “i wouldn’t expect anything less, ma.” he says before he leans down to kiss you once again.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter. 

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway. 

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence. 

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan. 

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life. 

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together. 

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you. 

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes. 

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk. 

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop. 

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in. 

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.” 

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.” 

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day. 

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually. 

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid. 

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did. 

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.” 

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner. 

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude. 

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.” 

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?” 

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked. 

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” 

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.” 

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?” 

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word. 

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his. 

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.” 

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of. 

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked. 

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked. 

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.” 

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot. 

God, you were down bad. 

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face. 

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed. 

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded. 

That was all you needed to hear. 

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible. 

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little. 

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting. 

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual. 

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken. 

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” 

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?” 

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger. 

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision. 

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.” 

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm. 

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed. 

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece. 

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice. 

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!” 

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his. 

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive. 

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless. 

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

[dolldefiler]

[I'm not going to colour this because it's still just a rehabilitative piece. Can you tell I still have no idea what I'm doing? Also, I'll get to my asks in a bitttttt. Much love, thanks for sticking around <33]

C/W: Rape

Some girls think they’re strong and smart. They think a few self-defence classes and an oversized ego can protect them from the vicious, cruel pounding of a man that wants to spend his seed inside her pathetic cunt. God, I’d love to see that false bravado warp into silent terror as we walk down that dark path together. She’d lead, scurrying ahead, wary of my footsteps. A walk would turn into a sprint. The silence would be torn by her screams.

I’d shove her to the ground, those hours spent in a dojo a distant memory. I wonder how she’d flail, feeling my dirty boot pressing against her face. I wouldn’t bother being gentle. The dumb bitch knew about me. She tried to prepare for me. But she’s just like any other weak, rapetoy of a woman. I’d grope her tight ass, molesting the product of years of training. I’d squeeze hard, thanking her for turning into the perfect sex doll for me.

It’s not like anyone would hear us but loud noises annoy me. I’d tear off her clothing and use a pair of leggings or trousers to choke the stupid rapesleeve out. Perhaps the panic might cause a few techniques to resurface in her head. She’d press around my body, desperate to find a pressure point on me or something. The actions of a toy in the process of breaking. I’d slam her into the concrete again, harder, watching her body go limp. Ready.

I’d push into her ass, straining against her tightness. God, I love it when whores become tight out of fear. It’s like I’m being rewarded for terrorising and abusing the wretched little sex toys. I’d push, slamming harder and faster into her, slapping her face occasionally to wake her up. And she would wake up. She’d wake up, panicked, violated and fearful. For a minute, her world would be painted in all the colours of pain.

It’d be fun watching her struggle to regain her humanity as my cock violently splits her perfect butt in two. She’d pant and cry incoherently, frothing at her lips. Pathetic. I’d grab her handbag, my hips still pumping, and pour its contents onto the ground. I’d pick up a fallen rape whistle and laugh, another hand pressing her head onto the cold, wet concrete.

I’d pretend to blow it, and even offer it to her trembling lips. As she’d blow, I’d violently masturbate with her asshole, the length of my cock wreaking havoc in her unprepared ass. The whistle would barely make a noise. Tears and heavy sobs would fill the air.

I’d pull out and cum over her whistle. I’d pour my seed over the symbol of her hard work. Her every measure she’d taken to protect herself. Nothing would protect her from her fate. No classes. No items. Nothing. In the end, she’d still be a stupid, silly girl on the inside.

[rubywonu]

𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗰𝘆

(n.) the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

summary: in which seungcheol finally gathered the courage to make you his, permanently.

pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: kisses, nicknames, hand is on the thigh (?), wine, fireworks.

w/c: 1.7k

edited: by @pixieskie

nia’s notes: i had to write this. it was so fun to feed into my delusions. also im tagging my moots at the bottom to help spread this fic.

today was the day seungcheol finally gathered the courage to ask you to be his for forever. he'd been thinking about it for quite a long time but only now had he been preparing for it. 

he spent weeks looking for the perfect ring but nothing ever seemed to satisfy him, after all seungcheol only wanted the best of the best for you and it showed in everything. 

he visited jewellery stores every day and spent his free time searching for ring designs on the internet. and then finally he found it. he felt a sense of accomplishment the moment he placed the order for your ring.

everything was starting to feel real and at that moment, it hit seungcheol hard. he was going to propose to you. 

he spent the next few weeks in anxiety that you would find the ring and proceeded to change the hidden location of the ring every day. the first step being completed, the next step was to propose to you.

everyone who knew seungcheol knew he was someone who proclaimed his love in a very materialistic way, especially to you. 

he asked his friends to go with him to shortlist places for the occasion and that also took quite a lot of time. he drove 6 hours every day and spent the majority of his time watching vlogs of the venues they had chosen. after a painful month of travelling all over seoul, he finally found the perfect place to propose to you. 

after that came the most tiring step of them all, how was seungcheol going to propose to you? he needed decorations, venue reservations, to fly out your family on the other side of korea, a photographer - which he later decided that mingyu fit the role- he needed to get outfits and the hardest part was that seungcheol had to do it without you noticing. 

he made calls day and night to inquire about different things that were required for the proposal. he called your family members and personally invited them. seungcheol visited the venue every day and planned the decorations with a team of professionals. 

seungcheol was glad that you didn't catch on to his behaviour since he wasn't the best at keeping secrets.

after long months of planning, the day finally arrived. as usual, seungcheol went home and told you to get ready as he was taking you on a date.

you didn't expect anything, he was always taking you on surprise dates. seungcheol laid a beautiful red dress out for you on the bed with a note. you stepped out of the bedroom and there was seungcheol. he was fiddling with his watch as he stood in front of the room. 

hearing the door open, seungcheol looked at you and his world stopped. your hair framed your face perfectly and the matching red lip made you look irresistibly perfect. with his mouth open in awe, he walked towards you and held your hand, spinning you around. he listened to your giggles as the dress fluttered around you. 

being struck by your beauty, seungcheol felt so so happy to be yours. he watched as you walked over to the shoe cabinet and took out a pair of black heels. seungcheol made it over to you and stopped you before you could wear them. he got down on his knees and placed his hand under your heel before kissing your calves. 

now was your time to be speechless. you stared at him as he worked the latches on your heels. oh, how powerful you felt, for a man to be this in love with you that he got on his knees to slip on a pair of heels on you. 

seungcheol stood and gave you his hand for you to hold as support. no words were exchanged but you felt loved and appreciated each time seungcheol opened doors for you or gave you his arm to hold while you climbed down the stairs. 

the drive was the best description of innocent love, the both of you shared glances at each other and you smiled whenever seungcheol squeezed your thigh. it felt so intimate.

you decided to break the silence. "where are we going, my love?" you smiled at him and he looked at you when the car stopped at a red light. seungcheol reciprocated the smile and placed a kiss on your cheek before answering. 

"it's a secret, cherry." you blushed at the nickname. you've heard it for a long time but each time he calls you 'cherry', your heart picks up on a few beats. 

"oh come on!" you whined one last time hoping for an answer but all he did was smile and bring your hand to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on it. thankfully, this action made you forget about your destination as you sat there flustered.

the sun began to set and the sky had a beautiful pink gradient. it made this 'date' even more magical. while you gazed at the sky, you didn't realize you were at the destination until seungcheol opened the door and began walking towards you. 

he opened your door, and again held his arm out as support. you set your dress out as your eyes roamed the place in wonder. you've never seen such a beautiful restaurant before. the ocean glistened behind the restaurant. a small path connected the restaurant with the beach. 

the red sun was on par with the horizon. the scenery to you, looked like it had come out of a fairytale. not for seungcheol though. he was too busy staring at the fascination on your gorgeously sculpted face.

as much as he hated the hours of travel to look for this place, it felt like an accomplishment when you hugged him, thankful for this date. 

a waiter came up to you and guided the both of you inside the restaurant. 

seungcheol's hand rested on your lower back, and his body warmth immediately spread throughout your body, making you feel comfortable. the table that was reserved for the both of you was perfect. it had a view of the beach and the sunset that illuminated the restaurant, making it a beautiful hue of orange and pink. 

"did you order for us beforehand?" you asked after the waiter left your favourite wine bottle on the table. seungcheol got up from his seat and opened the bottle before pouring it for you. he knew that you loved it when he served you wine.

"only the wine, nothing else." seungcheol sat down in his place and grabbed your hand over the table, rubbing his thumb over it ever so gently. 

the menus were handed to you and seungcheol didn't let go of your hand even then, you smiled at his clingy behaviour. you skimmed through the menu and placed your order when the waiter came to collect it, seungcheol ordered a dish that you seem intrigued by, it was one that you had never heard of before.

there was a comfortable silence that enveloped the both of you as you stared at the sunset at the beach. it was romantic and private. no eyes were staring at the both of you, just you and seungcheol being sickly in love. 

the dishes arrived soon after and the both of you started eating, seungcheol made comments on how beautiful you looked and you couldn't respond, all you did was shyly giggle at each and every one of them. the both of you moved on to other topics and time flew. by the time the both of you were done eating, the sun had set completely, and the moon shone in the starry night. 

you and seungcheol walked towards the beach after he paid for the meal. hand in hand, you swayed them and took a walk on the beach. you shivered slightly at the chilly wind and seungcheol noticed as he immediately took off his trench coat and gave it to you.

you were about to walk further when you realised that seungcheol had stopped walking. you turned around with a confused expression on your face when you realised that he looked...nervous. 

"cheol, is everything okay?" you asked as you walked in front of him and cupped his face, you laughed out an apology when he flinched at the coldness of your palms. 

"yeah. um." he pulled away from you and held your hands before looking into your eyes. seungcheol's nerves were spiking up and he didn't know how to control it.

"you know the day i met you was the best day of my life. i was having a really bad day, but then you showed all happy and giddy. you put an automatic smile on my face and i didn't even know who you were." his words melted your heart, and you didn't even notice you were crying until seungcheol wiped the tear off your face.  

"and then we continued to meet at that coffee shop near hybe. after a few weeks, i finally gathered up the courage to ask you out. i remember being so nervous to talk to you, and then i found out your voice was sweeter than your personality." you laughed through the tears at the corniness of seungcheol's words. 

"after we started to date, i found out the real meaning of happiness. i used to dread coming home, it was so cold and dark but when you moved in, the house started to feel like my home, and soon my home turned into our home." 

you were sobbing at this point, and then seungcheol started shedding tears. 

"i want this to last my whole life, and i hope you want that too." you were nodding by the end of this sentence. 

and then seungcheol got down on one knee and pulled out a velvet box. you knew this was going to happen, but now that it was playing out in front of you, it felt surreal. "so, yn. can you make me the happiest man in this world and marry me?" 

he popped open the box and there the diamond studded ring glistened.  a single grey diamond rested on top and smaller white diamonds decorated the band of the ring. it sparkled in the moonlight, which made it even more magical.

you nodded profusely and sobbed harder as seungcheol shakily slipped the ring on your finger. he stood up and pulled you into a hug and brought you into a kiss, seungcheol dipped you as fireworks were set off in the distance. behind you, party poppers and cheers erupted from all of your friends and families. 

you couldn't stop smiling when everyone congratulated the both of you. after the congratulations, you could see everyone talking about your wedding and seungcheol was happy that he didn't have to go through planning that by himself. it was safe to say planning the proposal was stressful but so worth it.

you looked at seungcheol who was already looking at you lovingly.

"why are you looking at me like that, mr. choi?" you asked cheekily, you wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in.

"why? cant i look at my wife, mrs. choi?" the both of you smiled. 

"future wife." you corrected your fiancé.

"either way you're mine, mrs. choi." 

"that i am, mr. choi."

tagging: @kflixnet . @caratsland . @pixieskie . @xomingyu . @etherealyoungk . @fairyhaos . @kyeomyun . @odxrilove . @itadorins . @ylliris-hanniehae . @wqnwoos . @slytherinshua .

[noiriarti]

The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 2

NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: mentions of masturbation WC: 6.9k AN: hehehehehe this chapter was so much fun to write and i fear i have added a bit of a plot to this pwp fic. next chapter will get even wilder! as always, asks and requests open <3

Ch. 1, [Ch. 2], Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6

Chapter 2: Testing

Anakin stumbled to his room on unsteady feet. When he entered, it was 1:43 am, but he had never felt more awake. He couldn't have slept even if he had wanted to, because you were haunting him. The wood of his door as he unlocked it felt like the lab bench under his fingers. His lips felt phantom kisses from you. Your angry voice echoed in the creak of the hinges. His pillows were soft like your clothes, like your skin.

The more he thought about it, the harder he got, which he wasn't sure was possible, really. His cock was pressing against his jeans so hard that he was relatively certain he could get off just by thrusting into the material a few times. Anakin rocked his hips experimentally against the rough material, and a shiver of pleasure ran down his spine. Jesus. He was definitely sensitive enough to cum like that. But he shouldn't. He really, really shouldn't. It would be weird and creepy, when you told him you didn't want to do more of this. He shouldn't. He resolved to sleep it off, but found sleep was still evading him about an hour later when he lay awake in bed. Fuck my life. Fine. If he was going to be up, he might as well get some work done. So, he spent the night typing at his desk, which he distinctly had to try not to imagine kissing you against.

Anakin didn't hate you. Far from it. Okay, maybe not that far from it. But if he hated you, he something-else-ed you with equal measure. He just wasn't sure what that something else was. Did he like you? This wasn't like any crush he had before. You were so rude sometimes, but he would snap right back, and then escalate. Anakin didn't love that personality trait in himself, but it came out in spades around you. In freshman year, your name on the posted top homework of the week was exhilarating. Finally, some competition. Someone who loved engineering as much as he did. Someone who understood the fire that got him out of his backwater town and into the world. Then he met you, and that exhilaration turned a thousand times stronger. You weren't just a peer, you were a challenge. Every jab you threw at him, every time your bot would beat his in the traditional end-of-year tournament, he'd feel like he was suddenly on fire, electricity shocking through his very being. It was the same feeling he chased in taekwondo, that edge where he wasn't sure if he'd win, but he was so, so close. It was easier to interpret it as anger, as hatred, as fuel.

Even though he thought you could be a know-it-all, he had to admit that he always had a sort of begrudging respect toward you. You worked on a group project together, three times, once per year on average, and he could consistently rely on the fact that you'd never be a slacker. Others on the team would sometimes ghost, which annoyed you both in equal measure. The two of you would butt heads over what to do in the projects, but you were always 100% dedicated. He respected it about you, even if you were critical of his admittedly shoddy handwriting or the logical jumps in his proofs.

By senior year, he was unknowingly nursing what could affectionately be called a crush, though it was masked under layers and layers of frustration and competition and anger. Anakin wasn't very self aware, but it was beginning to dawn on even him that, perhaps, he liked you. There were several signs. Late nights in the lab were torture for him. He'd sit there, trying to focus on something, anything, but he kept seeing that piece of hair that fell into your face when you bent over your bench and your deft hands wiring capacitors. Sometimes, when you passed him and he caught a whiff of your smell, his heart would speed up. When he heard your voice in class, he would start smiling. It was honestly kind of embarrassing.

In retrospect, it was surprising he hadn't broken and kissed you earlier. But, now that he had, all he could think about was kissing you again. As he sat at his desk thinking, the next steps for his thesis slipped through his hands like grains of sand. At practice the next afternoon, his technique was sloppy, which his teammates riffed on endlessly. In class, the professor could have said the secret to traveling faster than light, and it would have gone in one of Anakin's ears and out the other.

You had said it couldn't happen. Why? Did he do something wrong? At the time, he was clouded with arousal, joy, and exhilaration, so he didn't ask any questions, just agreed mindlessly, but your statement was haunting him. We shouldn't do this again. Why not? His body was screaming for it, at the very least, and so was his heart, but he chose to ignore that.

Anakin was pondering this issue over a piece of tech for the Jinn lab, where he worked part-time during the semester, when Obi-Wan walked in and headed straight for him. Though Obi-Wan was technically his supervisor, being a third-year graduate student advised by Professor Jinn, Anakin considered him a friend. Though he was usually pretty serious, Obi-Wan appeared thoroughly amused today and looked a bit like the cat who got the cream.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said by way of greeting as he passed by his chair.

"What's up?" Anakin asked as he tried to get a particularly annoying screw tightened.

"Were you in the thesis lab last night?" Yes, he was, in fact. He was making out with you, but he didn't need to mention that.

"Yeah, working on some hardware for my next prototype, why?" Obi-Wan's smile spread further, if possible.

"Did you know there's cameras?" The blood froze in Anakin's veins. The suggestion in his voice was unmistakable.

"What?" His voice came out like a whisper.

"Good thing you were simply working on your prototype. You should warn other students to take… dalliances elsewhere," Obi-Wan said, winking.

"I-um-fuck--I." The words died on Anakin's tongue. Holy fucking shit. "I didn't see cameras."

"They're small. Qui-Gon had me install them this year. Nevertheless, things happen," Obi-Wan said, pausing, then quickly added, "Good luck." Obi-Wan patted Anakin on the shoulder and walked into his office in the back of the lab, leaving Anakin frozen in his chair.

Later that evening, once he'd worked (read: sat in shock) for four hours at the Jinn lab, finished two assignments for his gened, and led a practice for the TKD team, Anakin dragged his tired ass to the thesis lab. He was still restless since Obi-Wan's revelation. There was a video of the two of you, and he found himself wondering more than a few times if he could get it. For safekeeping, of course. No other reason.

He nodded at Barriss, who was on her way out, on complete autopilot. Seems she's getting in gear for the competition, he would have thought had he been mentally present in the slightest. He was the only one in the lab, a relief considering the fact that all his brain cells tended to leave the building as soon as you were near him, so he could get some work done. Get some tests in, make some actual progress. Maybe he could even pull a win on the competition, if not just an A on his thesis. He'd written some code during thermo lecture that he loaded onto an Arduino, turning over the device and its sharp pins in his fingers before disconnecting it from his laptop and shoving it into a breadboard. It looked ugly, clunky, and inelegant, but it was just a temporary setup for the test run before he attached the Arduino to the current motherboard. Sometime midway through the code running, the door to the lab clacked open.

It was you. Who else would arrive to the lab at 8pm? You looked gorgeous today, which hit Anakin like a punch to the gut. Cool, cool. This was normal. He could handle this. The cold had darkened your lips and cheeks a bit, so subtle he wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't staring. But he was, and he looked away quickly, back to his computer, and choked out a "hey." Anakin heard the tell-tale smack of your backpack on the floor, then each layer you shed (thump for coat, gentle taps for gloves, barely a thunk for hat). His eyes were fixed intently on the screen, even though there was nothing to look at there. When he looked up, you were right in front of him, close enough to touch.

"Hi," you said. Your eyes were gazing up at him earnestly and he could almost see his reflection in them. Fuck. You were standing incredibly near him, much closer than anyone else in his life would.

"Hi," he breathed. Was this it? Were you going to tell him that, actually, you wanted him? That maybe you could go on a date, or, at least go back to your place? Just going back to yours for sex wouldn't be exactly what he wanted, but then again beggars can't be choosers. And he was definitely a beggar right now.

"I need the small pliers." You reached out your hand expectantly. Oh. Okay.

"Yep." He handed them over, then watched as you walked back to your table.

Awesome. So Anakin was still horrendously awkward around you. He knew how to speak to you after the past several years, where he'd found himself getting little kernels of knowledge about your life and thoughts. It was more that he didn't know what he could say that wasn't a confession that he really really wanted to kiss you again.

The dark had already fallen outside hours ago when you began to put away your prototype. All of the world was asleep, the hallway outside the makerspace dark. The only light outside the lab were the streetlights glowing through the open windows, casting shadows over the sidewalk. Time was fictional in those moments, stretching and shortening and contorting until a minute passed in what felt like an hour, or the other way around. Nothing made sense in those moments. His calculations. The unease he felt. Least of all, why you didn't want to kiss him again. Why he didn't just tell you that he couldn't stop thinking about you. But you were already putting your coat on, slinging your backpack over your shoulder, and--

"Wait," he called out desperately, gesturing with his hand toward you. He fell silent. What was he going to say? He'd ask you to talk, to explain that he actually really enjoyed yesterday and that he'd really really like to do it again. He'd tell you that he didn't hate you, actually. That he'd actually enjoy going on a date, maybe to dinner or a movie, he wasn't picky. The words were on the tip of his tongue.

"Can you just stay for five more minutes while I use the drill press?" Close enough.

You looked at him and simply nodded. You kept an eye on him while he used the drill press, and his hand almost slipped three times under your scrutiny. But then he was done, and you both went through the paces of closing up the room. Vents off, machines off, check printers, check laser cutters, lights off, leave.

On the walk home, Anakin looked up and saw an empty sky, so different from the one on the farm at home. No matter where he turned there, he saw constellations and different worlds. Here, between the tall buildings and under all the light pollution, it was just black. You walked home wordlessly again.

The next day, he was determined to be more normal, and immediately asked you how your project was going. He could tell you were guarded based on the wariness in your eye, but you still answered. That you were dealing with a test not working. He offered to take a look at it, but you shot him down.

Later, you asked him if he knew how to deal with an issue with your CAD model, which he did, and he helped you extrude text on the curved surface. Anakin tried not to notice how close your body was.

The normalcy returned within three hours between the two of you. Sure, there was an elephant in the room (or, really, a herd of elephants), but you two were getting comfortable again, casually chatting about class and boasting about your projects. You revealed the thermo midterm hadn't gone so well, and he confessed that it hadn't for him, either. He was very worried about the class, actually, but the thesis was his priority. When he told you, Anakin couldn't figure out what your expression meant. Surprise? Anger? Sadness? Sympathy? He shrugged it off. Probably was a shock to realize he wasn't always perfect.

An hour later, he was thinking about going home, but then he saw you staring at your computer with your headphones in.

"Whatcha watching?" He hoped the question sounded casual. You paused the video and looked up at him.

"An old Criminal Minds episode," you responded with a hint of a smile. His heart leaped.

"Can I join? I'm waiting on a print, and I need a break anyway." Was that smooth? He couldn't tell. You nodded, and he pulled up a chair. He was endlessly thankful you were using wired earbuds today (you had explained you'd forgotten your usual wireless ones at home), so that he had an excuse to sit near you. It was just how far the cord reached, not how badly he wanted to press himself against you. That was all.

"Oh, it's totally the teacher," he remarked at one point, midway through the episode. Your legs had gotten closer, almost pressing the sides of his thigh to yours. That did not make his heart race. It was probably the tension in the episode.

"Obviously, dumbass," you chided, smacking your leg into his, but there wasn't any bite to it. It was affection, and he reveled in it the whole way home.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Ahsoka Tano wasn't stupid. She had eyes and a capability for critical thought that she thought two particular people in her life lacked. When her roommate came home from the lab one day in mid-November, dead silent with hair mussed and lips still swollen from making out with someone, Ahsoka knew something had happened between you and the only other person who would be in the lab that late. Finally. But there was a clench in your jaw, a hard set in your eyes, that told her it wasn't all positive. But it was progress.

The first time she met met Anakin was when she was a freshman and joined the Coruscant U taekwondo team. She'd seen him around the competitive taekwondo circuit, of course; he was national champion two times running in the 16-18 division. Anakin was precise, vicious, and powerful. By the time he was a freshman, he was about to reach the fourth Dan, a feat which took most people years. He was just that good.

When Ahsoka met him, she was certain he'd be the kind of arrogant that could only come with prodigy status. And, though he was a bit full of himself, she was surprised to find him to be kind. Not nice, necessarily, all quips and snipes and sarcasm, but definitely kind to the younger students, and to her. When he asked her to be his vice-captain, she said yes immediately. There was no one better she could learn from.

The first time she noticed the tension between you was at the first competition she was in, when you came to watch her. At some point, Anakin's name had been announced, and you looked like you'd smelled curdled milk. When she asked you about it later, she hadn't expected the total word vomit that spilled out of you about how annoying and horrible and infuriating Anakin was in class. Your actual issues with him were fairly minor, she thought: 1. He gloated (definitely true), 2. He sabotaged other people's projects so he'd do better (probably not true), 3. He was always getting praise from the professors (probably true), and 4. He always assumed you didn't know what you were doing (probably true).

But Ahsoka saw a side of him you didn't. At a competition in her sophomore year, in the dead of night at the Airbnb the team had rented, she saw him frantically sewing his expensive competitive dobok, heavy with embroidery befitting his dan, when one of the seams tore mid-match the day before. It took some digging, but he confessed that he didn't have a backup. He couldn't afford a new one right now. Anakin didn't talk about home much, and, when he did, it was in clipped sentences saying that yes, he had a mom and a new stepdad. Yes, he was from a small town. As vice-captain, she had access to the list of students who the team was sponsoring at competitions because they needed the financial aid. Anakin was on the list every time. Ahsoka didn't mention it to him, ever.

Over the past three years, she had watched the spark between the two of you ignite into fights and frustration. She'd heard Anakin ask about you in a way he thought was subtle, but was actually glaringly obvious. She'd heard you complain that he was so annoying enough times. Now that something had actually happened between you, that was it. She was going to do something about it.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"A taekwondo party?" You had asked.

"Yeah! At Rex's," Ahsoka had said. To be honest, you kind of needed a break. Or, at least a night to not think about circuits. You were beginning to see that Anakin was smart, even smarter than you had thought, and it was creeping up on you that, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't win no matter what you did. Maybe he was just too brilliant. You wanted to forget that, and getting drunk seemed like a great way to do just that. "Anakin will be there," Ahsoka's voice echoed in your head. Why did she say that? The peace you had settled into with Anakin was tenuous, but there. Did she know about what happened between the two of you?

You still weren't sure when you arrived on the door of the brownstone. Tau Kappa Delta wasn't an actual frat, but it was a house full of the TKD team competitors who called each other "brothers," so the nickname stuck. It was a bit out of the way of campus, but it was the prime place to hold parties if you wanted to get raunchy in a safe place. You and Ahsoka had gotten dressed up, you in some kind of short black silk dress she shoved in your hands, and her in a strappy ensemble that looked a bit like battle armor. There were straps around the arms that extended into fingerless gloves and some kind of tactical belt was slung low over her hips. Her halter top showed off her strong arms, and, for an instant, you wished you played sports for the university. How she wasn't shivering in the cold air, you'd never know.

The door swung open and the warmth indoors hit you, thick with bodies and sweat and beer, and some guy ushered you in while Ahsoka gave him a hug. This must be one of the team members you had met, some sturdy guy with an accent. You couldn't quite place if his name was Cody or Vaughn, but it was one of them, you thought. The room you entered was full of coats and bags, as well as a few people standing and chatting with drinks in their hands. Through the doorway, music blared in what was probably the living room. You couldn't make out any furniture through the dancing crowd.

Ahsoka reappeared with a shot in each hand, offering one to you with a wink.

"To a good night where you can relax, because God knows you need it," she toasted, bumping her shot glass against yours and downing it in one go. The tequila burned as it went down your throat. You coughed for a bit, then asked her for another. Might as well get the party started right. Another shot went into you, and then Ahsoka dragged you to the dance floor. The lights in the room were flashing all kinds of colors--red, purple, blue--and the music was loud enough that you could feel it vibrating through your organs. Ahsoka pushed her way past some people, closer to the center of the room, and then found enough space for the two of you and started dancing. The rhythm flowed through you, and you were just drunk enough not to care if you looked stupid. It was perfect. The two of you danced for three, maybe four songs, before Ahsoka went to get you both another shot, and then another. Some of Ahsoka's friends had joined you, not that you knew them, but you were in your own world, having fun. People bumped into your shoulder, leg, elbow, whatever, but you were on cloud nine. The bass felt like one heartbeat connecting all of the strangers on the floor to you, like you were all one beast. Dancing with your friends like this, going to parties, that's all that you cared about. This would be one of those memories you treasured, you were sure of it.

And then you saw Anakin. Much to your annoyance, he looked particularly good that day, his hair still as touchable as it was every day in the lab. He was wearing light-wash jeans (like that night, a small part of your brain reminded you) and a black, comfortable t-shirt. Oh, and there was a woman with him. Like that wasn't the first thing you noticed. She was shorter than him by a good bit, standing in front of him so you couldn't see her face, just her annoyingly shiny chestnut hair and perfect neck. Cool. Fine. They were in the corner of the room, with him leaning against the wall and her standing in front of him, shouting conversation over the loud music. Anakin shot her a warm smile, the one he rarely turned toward you, and then she put her hand on his chest. It was the alcohol that flipped your stomach, you were sure of it. And anger at seeing him, nothing else. You tapped Ahsoka and got close to her ear.

"Who's that?" You asked. She turned closer to you, her eyebrows drawn.

"Huh?" She half-yelled back. You lent in closer, trying to get to her ear.

"The girl?" You could barely hear yourself over the noise.

"What?" Oh, fuck it. You full-on yelled, but it didn't even come close to the level of bass in the room.

"Who's the girl with Anakin?"

"Oh," Ahsoka yelled back. "That's his ex." Awesome. Whoop-de-fucking-do. There was, objectively, no reason why that should have annoyed you. But it did. The girl waved to Anakin, then left, leaving him looking incredibly hot up against that wall. Your eyes took in the width of his chest, the muscles and veins in his arms. And then he was looking at you.

He had caught you. Fuck. He gave you a little wave with a smirk, then left into the next room. Shitfuckmotherfucker. Ahsoka grabbed your shoulder, shouting something about how the two of you should get some air. You nodded and let her pull you out of the dance floor, then to a room down the hall, where you could hear voices talking, laughing.

You recognized a few of the people. Jesse, Echo, the one whose name you'd ascertained was actually Cody, Fives, and Fox were all there, and, of course, so was Anakin. They were sitting in an uneven, horrible circle that was really more of a convex shape around the couch. Some girls you'd seen before around campus but you hadn't really met and some other team members were strewn about the room, sipping beers from their red cups. Anakin greeted you both with a wave.

"Hey, come join us, we're playing truth or dare," he yelled across the room. Ahsoka grinned and almost pulled you down with her to the floor.

"C'mon, let's play," she said as she grinned up at you. Truth or dare and other party games had never really been your thing, and you kind of were feeling the number of shots you had taken, so you decided you were out.

"Oh, I'm not sure--" you started.

"What, gonna chicken out?" Anakin's voice called. That motherfucker.

"Never," you shot back, plopping your ass down. You weren't sure there was a way to win truth or dare, but you were going to find it, goddamn it.

"Okay, Rex. Truth or dare?" Jesse started. You'd only met him once, but he had a nice voice and a glint in his eye that made you like him immediately.

"Dare," he responded gruffly. Some oohs peppered the room as they watched their intrepid assistant captain about to get loose. Jesse thought for a moment.

"Take two shots!" The crowd chanted as Rex sighed, poured himself two shots of tequila, and downed them with only a small wince. After he was done, it was his turn.

"Ahsoka, truth or dare?"

"Truth?" Ahsoka crinkled her nose.

"Aw c'mon Snips. Bo-oring," Anakin teased. Ahsoka shot him a look that said if I weren't across this circle, I would smack you right now.

"Only 'cause y'all can't think of a better dare than drinking," she said. Chuckles bubbled through the room.

"Fine, then, have you ever kissed Lux Bonteri?" Rex's question apparently hit the nail on the head as all the color drained out of Ahsoka's face.

"I changed my mind. Dare." Ahsoka's eyes were wide, and you knew why. She and Lux had kind of had a thing going, but he was on another school's team. She'd come back home after matches with stories about what he said, asking if you thought it was romantic or platonic. But she'd never admit to doing anything with a member of their fiercest competition. Rex rolled his eyes as people booed, Anakin especially loudly.

"Fine, fine. I dare you to… call your ex," Rex conceded. That was easy enough for Ahsoka, given that her only ex was Barriss, who she was still good friends with. Barriss had broken it off to focus on work over a year ago, and it had been hard on Ahsoka at first, but they got over it and were back to just being a little bit awkward. With an eye roll and a scoff, Ahsoka pulled out Barriss's contact and pressed the call button. The phone rang out on speaker, just getting Barriss's voicemail. "There, ya happy?" Ahsoka asked, then turned to someone else.

The game went around and around, questions about the last time someone had sex and dares to kiss someone else flying across the room as the team members who obviously knew each other too well publicly tortured one another. Eventually, someone said your name.

"Truth or dare?" It was Echo, who Ahsoka had told you was finally competing again after tearing his ACL. He had kind eyes, and the room seemed electric, so you made your choice without much thought.

"Uh, dare?" Echo smiled in a way that seemed apologetic, and you realized that perhaps this was a terrible idea. Was the room holding its breath, or was it just you?

"Okay, I dare you to straddle Anakin for three minutes." The room erupted, cheers and hollers coming from every player in the nearby vicinity. "Get it, Cap" came from somewhere on your right, and a whistle came from your left. Anakin looked white as a sheet, and you noticed he was staring at Echo with murder in his eyes. They'd pay for that in practice, most likely. He was leant back on his arms, legs criss-crossed, but the position suddenly looked tense. A muscle in his jaw bulged. The chants weren't stopping, and you decided to get it over with.

Whether it was the alcohol coursing through you or some newfound bravery, you weren't sure, but you started moving over to Anakin, who was three seats to your right, near a wall. He made eye contact with you, his gaze softening, and you could practically hear him asking you if you were okay with this. You were, you realized. It was probably the alcohol talking. The wolf whistles of the other players faded away, and sitting on his lap suddenly became the only thing you wanted.

You hitched one leg across Anakin's body, then sank down so that you were sitting on him. The rough material of his jeans slid against your bare thighs, and you cursed your choice not to wear pants. Your stomach was pressed to his chest, and you noticed that, even though your cleavage was in his eyeline and you always thought he was easily swayed by tits and ass, his eyes were intently staring into yours. In your shadow and the dark light, they were blown wide, the black almost consuming his blue irises. A world away, someone yelled that they had started a timer.

Somewhere behind your back, Ahsoka slipped Echo five bucks. You wouldn't have noticed if she had done it in front of you, because you were too busy trying to slow the beating of your heart. Or was that his? You couldn't tell. Everything was a bit fuzzy. In this position, you were above him for the first time, looking down at those eyes that were casting you a look that churned something inside you. With that look, you were back in the lab, and he was telling you to jump up onto the table, and his hands were all over you. You'd lose yourself in that moment, if you could.

Anakin's eyes traveled down your figure with a hard gulp that bobbed his Adam's apple. His gaze lingered on your low-cut front, tracing over the seams, then reaching down to your thighs. In your drunken state, you hadn't noticed the amount of skin that was exposed when your dress rode up. He definitely did. You felt something slowly changing beneath you, and it took you a second to comprehend that he was getting hard. Because of you. You rationalized it as the reaction any person with a penis would have to being straddled like that. Right?

His heavy breathing seemed to confirm it, and Anakin mouthed 'sorry' when he felt himself press against you subtly. You distinctly did not mind. His eyes flicked down between your legs, where the skirt had ridden up so that one wrong--or right--move would let him see what was underneath it. Him seeing you didn't bother you one bit, actually. You kind of wanted him to put a hand to you, press his fingers inside you. Maybe he could take you upstairs to one of the rooms and fuck you furiously. Or maybe you could shove what you were feeling against your legs into your throat. Or maybe one, then the other.

His gaze met yours again before sliding down to your lips and staying there. The same energy that he had when he was one-upping you, confidently answering a question in class, or telling you to re-solder your work grew in his eyes. That intensity. That fierce desire for success. You found it incredibly attractive then, but now, it was irresistible.

The timer beeped, and you thought of the 3D printer that night in the lab. Cockblocks, the both of them. The others in the room cheered as you got off him instantly, then slinked back to your usual seat. Now that you were sitting on your own, it became obvious that the heat between your thighs was not entirely from his legs warming you up. You pulled the hem of your skirt down just a tad. The adrenaline of the moment hadn't stopped, even though you were reminded of the existence of the crowd that had just watched you. You didn't want it to end. You'd give anything for the room to be empty right now, like the lab at night. You pulled out your phone and sent a message to Anakin, your fingers wobbly on the keyboard.

Upstairs. Follow me in 3 mind, the text said. Fuck. Maybe you were a bit drunk. *Mins, you corrected. Anakin checked his phone almost instantly, his eyes still locked on you from before, and quickly typed something back. k. You waited two more rounds of questions before getting up.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you said to Ahsoka, who was absorbed in some kind of debate with Fives and Cody. She nodded at you, and then you were off. You weaved through people, up to the floor with the bedrooms, which was much less populated than the downstairs. There were a few rooms that seemed either occupied or locked, but one at the end of the hall sat ajar. You entered, leaving the door cracked so Anakin would know where you were, then sat down on the bed. It was a twin, in a decently clean room that had a bunch of posters for bands along the walls. Whoever lived here really liked Pink Floyd, apparently. It was actually nice up there; the music was pumping through the building, but it was a nice backdrop this far from the speakers. The window was open, so the cool breeze was flowing.

A few moments later, the door opened. The second you saw Anakin, you pounced on him. He let out a slightly surprised mmph, but then feverishly kissed you back. Anakin tasted like alcohol and orange juice, but you didn't mind. As long as he was kissing you, he could taste however he wanted. One of his hands scrabbled behind him to find the door handle and shut it, while the other came up to your jaw. Whatever desires he had downstairs, he was clearly showing them now. His hand went down to grab your ass, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh. You pressed yourself against him, just like you were downstairs, your whole bodies melded together until you didn't know where he began and you ended. The way Anakin kissed you was intoxicating, more so than any of the shots you had taken that night. More than any drug you would ever take. That fire, that anger-desire-passion-whatever that burned in you intensified until the music downstairs and the unfamiliar surroundings faded away, and all you could feel was him.

You rocked your hips forward, just to test his response, and he growled into your mouth with a ferocity you didn't expect, but loved anyway. Fuck, you'd do anything to hear that again, to hear it all the time. He pulled your hips into his, grinding against you in the process.

Suddenly, he twisted around so he was pressing you against the door with his body enveloping you. Anakin trailed down from your lips to your jaw to your neck. The little nips and wet kisses were driving you wild, so you decided to return the favor and snaked your hand down his chest, which was shockingly hard and muscular, until you reached the hem of his shirt. Your fingers toyed with the edges where his skin met the soft cotton, and you could feel his ragged intake of breath when you trailed even further up. He pulled away, his breathing still heavy. You thought and hoped he would take his shirt off. To show you what you'd seen on the rare times his shirt had ridden up while he took off a hoodie or jacket. Instead, he just looked at you and stopped.

"Fuck me, please," you whispered into the room. For a moment, he looked like he was strongly considering it, and you found yourself praying he would say yes.

"How many drinks have you had?"

"I don't know, like four? Does it matter?" You shrugged. "It doesn't change that I want you," you whispered in a way you hoped was seductive. Anakin got off you so quickly that you were almost hurt, but he still remained close enough that it soothed the sting.

"I'm sorry. It's going to kill me to say this, but we shouldn't do this now. I've only had one drink and you're clearly not thinking straight," he said. His eyes were so full of concern that you almost didn't get mad at him. Almost.

"No, I'm thinking very straight. I'll say the alphabet backwards if you want," you offered, getting closer to him again. He took another step back.

"I'm talking about your decisions. I don't want to have sex, and then have you wake up in the morning and regret it. Just--let's go back to yours." He caught the look in your eye, which clearly meant that yes, you would indeed like to go back to your place, then hurried to add more.

"Not like that. You go to sleep. I'll stay in your living room. In the morning, if you still want to do this, I'll fuck you right then and there." Anakin rumbled the last words out so intently, so full of promise, that you finally conceded.

"Fine, let's go. But as soon as I wake up, I'll take you up on that. And then I'm going to the lab. I've gotta get back to work," you said, letting him past you to open the door for you. Anakin chuckled.

"Maybe you're more sober than I thought." The two of you went back down the hallway, past the other closed doors to the staircase, which was somehow even sweatier than you remembered, then past the living room to the entrance. Anakin's hand was clasped around yours the entire time, to make sure he didn't lose you, and you found that, actually, you didn't mind the contact. You wanted to do it a lot, even sometimes outside of sex. But that was the tequila talking. In fact, the tequila was doing a lot of talking right now, and the world was a little bit wobbly and fluid. Your head was heavy, and you found yourself stumbling a few times in your impractical heels.

Somehow, in all the chaos, Anakin found Rex by the entrance. You couldn't hear every word he said, but you caught "too drunk," "going home," and "make sure Ahsoka gets home safely." The 15 minute walk home passed by in a blur because you were a bit too distracted by the smell of Anakin's jacket around your shoulders. You really were stumbling around, and Anakin had to catch you a few times, but you made it back to your dorm in one piece.

This time, instead of going to the west elevator, Anakin followed you to the east, then up, up, all the way until you got to the tenth floor. Your key scraped against the lock, and you could hear Anakin's impatient sigh as you missed the hole again. You finally got it in, then got into your apartment and immediately flopped face-first onto your bed. Everything was a muddled mess after that. Anakin helped you take your shoes off, though not without making fun of you for being so drunk first, and then handed you a makeup wipe. You slapped it across your face a few times, then tossed it to the side. With a quick "good night," Anakin was about to leave your bedroom to crash on the living room couch.

"C'mere," you called, sitting up and stopping him in his tracks. He approached the bed, then sat down next to you until you put your head on his shoulder. This was bad, you knew, but it felt, for a moment, like that didn't matter. "Stay." Your voice was so small, so quiet. Vulnerable.

"I want to, but, no, I really should--" You interrupted him, still a little drunk and groggy but definitely annoyed. Could the bastard stop trying to be chivalrous for one second?

"If you don't stay, I am gonna dunk your Arduino in water. After you've soldered it." The threat was slightly diminished by the way you nuzzled his shoulder, but it worked anyway. Anakin was always a sucker. His deep sigh confirmed it.

"Fine. Just--oh God this is weird--let me take off my jeans if I'm going to sleep in a bed." You nodded and watched as he stood up, then unbuttoned them and pulled them down so he was in loose boxers and his t-shirt. His strong legs were on display, and you filed the image away for later as he crawled in behind you on the tiny twin bed. Your bed was shoved into the corner of the room, so he had to smush himself between you and the wall, but he managed it with only minimal complaining. He was so warm, so big and comforting. Maybe this was the relaxation you needed tonight, not a stupid party. Maybe you could do this more often. Anakin put his arm around your stomach, pulling you into him. Yup, you definitely had to do this more often. His breath tickled the back of your neck delightfully, and his bare legs felt incredible against yours.

"Is this okay?" You didn't have time to answer with anything more than a mhmm before you fell asleep. It was the most restful sleep you had in months, but that wasn't because of Anakin. Maybe it was. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't so bad. Maybe you liked him a bit, when he wasn't being an ass. But that was probably the tequila talking. It was the tequila, really.

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Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @skywalkercinema @throughparisallthroughrome @anak1ns-wife @radiantvader @eloquenceinpurple @rosekillerdaughter @doblasftcisco @mistress-amidala @mortalheartache @sunnytotheend @olivia091108 @aniiuv @sotal3rsa @springnaiad @bettysgardenswift @rhiannonhippiegirl @xorilixx

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[farfromharry]

new year, new man 🏎️ ln4

Summary: you meet Lando for the first time after being dragged to a new year’s eve party. safe to say you didn’t hate this new year as much as the rest.

W/c - 1485

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You were far from a fan of celebrating the new year. It wasn’t much of a holiday for you, rather than a period of a couple days that made you sad. You spent too long focusing on how it felt like time was moving too fast and you were getting old and by the time midnight arrived you’d successfully brought down everyone else’s moods.

For that very reason you were planning to stay home and mope in your room to greet 2024. But it seemed your friends had other plans.

“I don’t want to go to a party,” you huffed.

The brunette at the end of your bed rolled her eyes. “And I told you, I don’t care what you want, you’re going.” She tossed a dress at you and stood there expectantly.

From out in the hallway you could hear one of your other friends calling for you. “Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fun.”

You knew there was nothing you could do. They wouldn’t leave unless it was with you following behind them. Part of you was warmed by the fact they wanted you around, but another part of you was irritated that they couldn’t just let you be in your misery. You wished you would have been more stubborn.

An hour or so later and you were stepping into a complete stranger’s home where a party was in full swing.

A drink was quickly passed into your hands and within minutes you were left alone sitting in a quiet corner. Your friends had failed to let you know that this party was being hosted by a friend of theirs, with some of their other mutual friends in attendance. Maybe you would have put up a bigger fight if you’d have known you wouldn’t know anyone here and yet they would know everyone.

It was awkward, you standing there, drink in hand and eyes darting around the place at all the strangers. You must have looked so out of place.

“Do you mind if I join you?” A voice startled you out of your daydream. You were getting ready to turn them away when you locked eyes with one of the most attractive men you swore you’d ever seen. Your heart began to beat a little faster. “All the other seats are taken by couples basically swallowing each other. Figured this is the least awkward place to sit.”

You managed to laugh, like a real laugh. You were surprised that a random guy had managed to make you feel even slightly happy for the first time tonight.

“No, you’re fine. I sat here to get away too.”

It was silent for a brief moment and you cursed yourself for being so antisocial.

“Not enjoying the party?” he asked.

You perked up at the chance to talk to him again. “Uh, not really. Unless it’s your party, then it’s great. I’m having so much fun.”

He chuckled. “It’s not my party. Friend of a friend. I don’t really know anyone here.”

There were butterflies in your stomach. Could this man get any better? “Me either.”

He seemed pleased by that, like he’d needed to know he wasn’t alone in feeling awkward and uncomfortable in order for it to dissipate. “Well now you know me.” He held his hand out for you to shake. “I’m Lando.”

You smiled. “Y/N.”

The pair of you were only talking for a short while when he was approached by a clearly drunk man. “Lando Norris!” Was all he said, rather cheerfully, shaking hands with the man beside you. Lando smiled, nodding to the stranger before he left.

You watched the interaction with a furrowed brow.

“I thought you said you didn’t know anyone here?”

He looked at you with a shy grin. “I don’t. I have no idea who that was.”

The revelation made you laugh, louder than it probably should have, but you would blame the alcohol for that one. He quickly joined in, the 2 of you trading giggles in a secluded corner as everyone partied around you.

When your laughter died down and you wiped a few stray tears, you took a long look at Lando. “I’m actually really glad I came tonight.”

He took that to mean you were happy to have met and spent your time with him. “Me too. Maybe we could do this again sometime, but in an environment we both like. Somewhere quiet, like dinner?”

“I think I’d like that.”

Going into the new year it looked as though you’d be getting a shot at love, or at the very least a nice, new friendship. Maybe new year did bring good things sometimes.

As you noticed the minutes ticking closer to midnight and the party getting rowdier, you ached to convince Lando to move somewhere that wasn’t right in the middle of the busy crowd. You were unsure if he would, given that the atmosphere would change so drastically, but what was the harm in asking.

He looked at you as you stood from your seat, worried that you might be about to present him with an excuse to leave early.

“Come with me,” you instructed, holding your hand out for him to take. He eyed it, feigning hesitance.

He hummed. “I don’t know. My mum’s always telling me about stranger danger.”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on.”

Lando didn’t waste another second, slipping his hand into yours and allowing you to blindly lead him through the maze of people. He didn’t expect you to take him outside into the garden where it was much quieter. There was no one out here but the 2 of you and a couple stray drunk people.

“Much better,” you sighed. “I finally feel like I can hear myself think.”

As the moonlight fell upon you he believed you looked even more beautiful than you had inside. He was slightly in awe. His daze was momentarily broken when he noticed you shiver, the cold chill of the December air being unforgiving to your bare skin. There was only one thing that would be right for him to do as the gentleman his mother raised.

“Here, take my jacket.”

Your mouth opened to protest but the stern look he gave you told you he wasn’t willing to hear any of it. So instead you let him place it over your shoulders, his warmth and scent immediately making your body heat up to a comfortable temperature.

“Thank you.”

He brushed it off. “Not a problem.”

Now that there was no overly loud background chatter from those inside, a lull in conversation meant things got awkward, fast. Or at least on your part. You weren’t sure what you could say now and that led you to a panic about whether he was thinking about how silent you were being.

In reality, he was working up the courage to ask if he could kiss you. In the end it was the lack of time to deliberate that led him to just blurting it out.

He was afraid you’d be mad, considering you hadn’t met that long ago, but actually you were just happy he’d pulled you out of your nervous thoughts— even if his question gave you nerves for a whole different reason.

“Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if I could kiss you at midnight?”

You pretended to think it over, taking a step closer to him so that your fronts were pressed together. His eyes were rapidly looking over your features. Between your eyes and your lips, like he couldn’t make his mind up about where he wanted to focus. In the end he settled for your eyes.

“I might be persuaded.”

And then the countdown began.

As the clock struck midnight Lando made his move and closed the gap between the 2 of you. His large hand on your jaw was more or less guiding you through the sweet kiss, a gesture which made your knees even weaker than they already had been.

The cheers of the party inside were what brought the 2 of you back to the present.

Your face burned as you eyed the crowd, wondering if any of your friends had noticed you sneaking off with the handsome stranger to steal a kiss. You hoped they didn’t, because truly you wouldn’t be able to escape the mountain of questions they’d have for you.

He must have noticed you were slightly distracted, taking the initiative to gently guide your gaze back to him. The corner of his mouth curved upwards when your eyes met.

“Happy new year,” he mumbled, brushing his nose lightly across yours. It was a tender move for a man you’d met only a short hour ago.

You beamed, maybe you’d get the chance to know him a little more this year. “Happy new year.”

It looked like 2024 was already going to be a good year.

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[fettuccin-e]

Flying to New Heights

Summary: A flight delay means you're spending your night at the hotel bar, praying for sleep to come to you. Instead, a certain Captain Francisco Morales shows up, tall and broad and far too tempting. With undeniable attraction burning between you, you can't help the way you fall right into his arms.

A/N: Alright! I know it's been a while, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Life has gotten a tad crazy, but the Frankie thirst never stops okay? And this AU has been buzzing in my head for a little while now, so I just needed to get it out there. I hope y'all enjoy the porn. (dividers are by the lovely @saradika-graphics!)

Tags: Frankie Morales x Reader, Commercial Pilot!Frankie, Flight attendant!reader, afab!fem!reader, alcohol consumption but barely, this is essentially an excuse for porn so, oral and fingering(r!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up I'm begging you), Francisco Morales and his dirty mouth have struck again (w/c: 4.2K)

You love your job, you really do. Deciding to actually train to be a flight attendant was one of the best decisions of your life. Gone were the days of short-lived stints in retail, and you’ve never been happier for it.

You’ve lived the attendant life for a few years now, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve met some of your best friends through this job, seen some of the most beautiful places in the world, met celebrities on their way to new production locations and concert venues. 

It’s the dream, you tell your family, during the rare moments you actually get to visit them. And it is. The perks far outweigh the cons in your profession, and you’re happy to be where you are.

That’s not to say there aren’t any cons though.

There are always rude flyers, unruly children, issues with luggage. The turbulence is never much fun, nor are the months spent without being able to go home at all.

There are always nights like tonight, where the rain made the flight arrive later than expected, and you’ve got another flight scheduled for the morning. Between jetlag and the copious amounts of airline coffee you’ve imbibed to remain bright and chipper over an eight hour flight overseas, there’s no way you’ll get more than five hours of sleep before you have to clock in again.

A nightcap in the hotel bar seemed just the thing to cool off. You haven’t even taken your uniform off, the thick fabric stretching across your skin, your legs exposed to the cool air as you sip on your drink. The alcohol burns a bit in the back of your throat, but you take comfort in it, trying to lean into the calming warmth it creates in your stomach.

“Can’t sleep?”

The unexpected voice rips you from your reverie, and fuck, what a wake up call. The voice is deep, a pretty rasp edging into the ends of his words, the warmth of his tone making you far warmer than the alcohol in your glass ever could.

Captain Francisco Morales. Even his name has heat swimming in your stomach, and you wish you had just gone to bed like a normal person instead of drinking at the hotel bar at midnight. 

You can’t decide if the pilot is a perk or a con of the job, only knowing that he seems to pilot most of your flights, and is a fucking distraction during every single one of them. With his big broad shoulders and patchy beard, the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles and his insistence that you call him Frankie, not Captain Morales. 

The whole “flight attendants fucking pilots” trope never really applied to you until you met Frankie. You’ve made it a point not to hit on him, no matter how much you desperately want to. It would be far too stereotypical, and with how fucking nice Frankie is, you’d feel like you’d be taking advantage of him. So you’ve kept your distance, talking to him kindly, trying to cross your legs discreetly when he flexes his damn hands on the plane controls, and doing your job like a normal person.

But as he crosses into your line of vision, sitting in the barstool directly next to you, you’re struck with the realization that you’re in unknown territory. There’s no distracting yourself here with other passengers, or your fellow flight attendants. You can’t excuse yourself to an airplane bathroom to splash cold water on your face and yell at yourself to get it together. No, Frankie is right in front of you, ordering a whiskey neat from the bored-looking bartender, and smiling at you so fucking prettily with those big brown eyes and big hands and oh god you’re not going to survive-

“Nah, the jet-lag is really getting to me this time,” you say casually, your voice working on its own accord. At least you aren’t staring at him dopily like some kind of imbecile.

He chuckles. “Same here. Flight go okay?”

“You got us here, didn’t you, Captain? I’d say that’s a success.”

“Then let’s hope I’m always successful,” he winks, and it takes effort to breathe normally. You giggle, and he smiles at you again, his eyes crinkling up.

“You have a flight tomorrow?” he asks, sipping at his drink. 

“Yeah, unfortunately," you sigh. "10:00AM, which is making the whole ‘no sleeping thing’ even worse. Y’know, it’s really the airline’s fault if I collapse on a passenger." You grin at him, and he laughs.

“Oh, they should be so lucky,” he chuckles, and you could swear that you see just a flicker of heat in his eyes. A heat that turns into a raging inferno inside of you, spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your toes. 

“How about you, Captain? Flying again tomorrow?” You need to keep your mind out of the fucking gutter, not that he makes it very easy.

“Yup. They’ve got me in the air at 8:00AM.”

“Oh man, and you’re listening to me complain about my 10:00AM?”

“Work is work, sweetheart,” he smiles at you, and you want to collapse into him at that very moment. Sweetheart. Coming from anyone else, it would sound smarmy, like a pick up line, but from Frankie, it just sounds warm and comforting. You want to be his sweetheart. “We’re all allowed to complain. We aren’t in any kind of competition.”

He sips his whiskey, his eyes feeling like they’re boring into your fucking soul. “And either way, we’re both in the same bar, at midnight, sleep nowhere in sight. We’re pretty much in the same boat.”

“If you say so, Captain,” you say, your body positively burning under his gaze. You hope that you can blame it on the alcohol.

He raises an eyebrow, “I thought I told you to call me Frankie, sweetheart.”

“Frankie, sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” he says, taking another sip. You try to not watch his throat work as he swallows. You fail. “Think you just need more practice,” he mumbles into his drink, so soft you almost miss it.

“Practice?” you blurt, mind too distracted to think of an intelligent response.

“Practice saying my name.”

A laugh startles out of your mouth. “I have no idea how I’d practice that, Frankie.”

He hums, pretending to think. “I have a few ideas,” he murmurs, and fuck, you definitely aren’t imagining the heat in his eyes now. It’s blazing into you, and you have to press your thighs together to alleviate the ache between them, hoping that Frankie doesn’t notice. Or maybe you hope he does, as you watch those thick fingers wrap around his glass.

Fuck it. He’s hot, you’re horny, and God, you can’t take much more of this. “I’d love to hear all about them, Frankie,” you say, adding a little rasp to your voice that you hope sounds sexy.

Frankie chuckles, but it doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of you. No, he sounds surprised, like he can’t believe you’re flirting back at him. Confidence swims in your chest as red colors his cheeks. You gaze up into those warm, brown eyes of his, and fuck, he’s so pretty up close like this.

“You sure about that, hermosa?”

You don’t break eye contact with him, and his deep gaze burns into yours. “Positive,” you breathe, and Frankie’s smirk is absolutely devastating.

Captain Francisco Morales doesn’t do this often. No, he doesn’t do this ever. Fucking between flights is supposed to be a perk of being a pilot, but it’s a “perk” he rarely utilizes. One night stands have never really suited him; he gets attached far too easily, and with his job, he can never stick around for long.

But god you’re pretty. And you’re licking hotly into his mouth, and whining in the back of your throat like you’re fucking desperate for it.

He couldn’t help himself when he saw you, still in your little uniform skirt, nursing a drink at the hotel bar. He couldn’t help himself when he struck up a conversation with you, wanting to see your pretty smile and soft laugh that he only ever hears mid-flight. And damn it, he sure as hell can’t help himself from pressing you up against the wall of the hotel elevator, pressing one of his thighs between yours while your fingers curl into his hair and his arms wrap around your waist.

You wiggle down onto his thick thigh, and it creates the most perfect pressure on your clit. You whimper against Frankie’s mouth, and he groans with you, pulling you flush against him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and his voice is deep and gravelly, breathless from your fevered kisses. “I, uh, I don’t usually do this kind of thing.” His cheeks burn, but he doesn’t back away, just leans his forehead against yours and tries to catch his breath.

It isn’t a surprise, his confession. You’ve heard stories about every other pilot, about their conquests with flight attendants, or how someone saw one of them take their wedding band off when they got to their hotel. There are stories upon stories about every pilot you’ve flown with, except Frankie. And it’s intoxicating, knowing that he wants you enough to have you like this. 

“Good. Me neither,” you whisper, and Frankie grins again. That boyish, devastating grin, and fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard that you could cum like this. You could cum, right in this elevator, Frankie’s thigh between yours and his tongue in your mouth, fuck-

The elevator dings, signaling your arrival to your floor, and Frankie jumps away from you as the doors slide open. You don’t take it personally, not when you’re instinctually tugging your rumpled skirt down. You glance up, and Frankie is already staring down at you, gaze blazing as he braces a hand against the elevator door, holding it open for you. 

“Where’s your room?” he asks, and the question is casual, but his voice certainly isn’t. There’s promise in it, and you have to make sure your knees don’t buckle. 

“Why don’t I show you?” you say, stepping toward him to press your bodies together. Frankie doesn’t answer, he only cups a hand under your jaw, dragging your face up for a sticky kiss. It’s so much better than a yes.

He breaks the kiss far too soon, but one of his hands makes its way down to your ass, squeezing the fat of it through your skirt. “Lead the way, princesa,” he grumbles, and how could you ever think to refuse him?

Maybe you’re a little too eager in your walk to your room, but Frankie doesn’t seem to fare much better. No, he’s just as desperate as you are, with the way he presses you against the door of your room the moment you close it. With the way he swiftly kisses down your neck, sucking your skin between his teeth as he unbuttons your blazer, shoving the fabric down your arms. The buttons of your white undershirt follow, and you keen as he sucks maddeningly at your pulse point, his mustache scratching at the sensitive skin of your neck.

As soon as you’re divested of your shirt, Frankie’s moving again, kissing his way down your chest. He drags his teeth against the soft skin of your breasts, and you dig your hands into his hair. 

“Fuck, baby, you’ve got the prettiest tits,” he murmurs against your skin. It doesn’t sound like a line, no, it sounds like a prayer. 

“Frankie, please,” you breathe.

He looks up at you from his position at your chest. “What, gorgeous?” he asks, coy, as if he doesn’t know what you want. What you desperately need. 

“Please, just,” you use your grip in his hair to drag him back up to your mouth, and he goes willingly, groaning softly as his tongue meets yours again. “Please fuck me, Frankie,” you whisper, and Frankie groans like he’s dying.

“Take- take your clothes off, baby,” he mutters, and it sounds more like he’s begging than he’s commanding. “Take your clothes off, and get on the bed.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You have to make sure you don’t trip on your way to the bed as you kick off your heels. You tug your skirt and nylons down your thighs, making sure to wiggle your ass a bit more than normal as you bend over to tug them the rest of the way down your legs. You smirk at Frankie’s soft groan behind you.

The air of the hotel room is slightly cold, but as soon as you kneel on the bed, arching your back in a shameless display of your desperation, Frankie is burning hot above you, and you can’t feel the cold at all. Frankie’s thick, calloused hands palm your ass, and you moan as he spreads you apart, staring unabashedly at your aching cunt.

“Can I eat your pussy, baby?” he grumbles from behind you, and the fact that he’s asking permission to eat you out is making you so much hotter, making you clench around nothing. 

“Yes, yes, Frankie, oh please-” you whine, and Frankie barely lets you finish your sentence before he’s dragging his tongue in a long stripe up your dripping pussy. “Fuck, Frankie,” you groan, and he moans into you, sounding like he’s enjoying eating you out just as much as you are. 

His nose drags maddeningly through your folds as he brings his lips down to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it in circles that send pure pleasure sparking endlessly up your spine. You arch your back into it, pressing yourself into his mouth, and Frankie groans again. The vibrations of it against your clit make you jerk wildly, whining high as you clutch desperate fingers into the pristine white sheets of the bed.

Frankie tries to keep you still with one of his big hands pressing into the small of your back. His other hand makes its way to your pussy, and you don’t even realize, not when he’s licking into you so feverishly, until there’s a thick finger pressing into your achy entrance.

“Frankie, oh my god-” you gasp wetly, his finger so much thicker than one of your own. It’s been so long, too long, since you’ve had the touch of anything other than yourself. Your tiny, traveling bullet vibrator doesn’t feel like this. You can’t stretch yourself like this, you can’t drive yourself wild like he can.

He moves his finger around inside you, searching, searching, while he licks softly at your clit. “Where is it, baby?” he mutters against you, and you have to force your brain to work at least a little bit to decipher whatever the fuck he means.

His finger is still searching, stroking against your slick inner walls, and you can barely gasp out a, “up, up,” before he’s finally touching that sweet spot deep inside you. You can’t hide it when he does, gasping out a high pitched moan as pleasure rockets up your body.

“There it is, sweetheart,” he says, “good girl.”

And fuck, how do you hold yourself together when he says things like that. He licks again at your clit, but plays with that spongy spot inside you, abusing it. You’re so slick and hot, it doesn’t take long before he’s pressing a second finger into you, then a third. And his fingers are so fucking thick, breaking you apart and pressing into that wonderful spot inside you. Your vision is blurring at the edges as he plays with you like a practiced instrument. How is he so good at this? Your body barely feels like it’s your own, just Frankie’s; his to play with, his to fuck. God, he’s ruining you. It’s never been this good.

“Frankie, Frankie-” you whimper his name like a prayer, and his fingers move fast into you, jackhammering you into the mattress. You whine as he breaks his mouth from your clit, but he keeps his fingers pressed deep inside of you as he leans over your trembling body. 

“C’mon baby, c’mon baby,” he mutters, moving his fingers inside you so roughly that you could swear he’s trying to break you in two. “What do you need, sweetheart? What do you need to cum all over my fingers, huh?”

“Just keep-” you gasp between shuddering moans. “Just keep talking to me, fuck, please-”

“Talk about what, gorgeous? Talk about how hard I am for you right now? How hard you always make me?” You whine at his words, and you can feel his smirk against the skin of your shoulder. His fingers move into you even harder, if that’s even possible. “Fuck, princesa, you have to know how fucking sexy you are. Make me so fucking hard whenever we fly together. Fuck, watched you bend over to pick up your bag once, right in front of me. Had to fuckin’ jerk my cock as soon as we got back to the hotel. Can’t help it around you baby.”

You feel like you’re underwater. Frankie’s voice is deep and dark in your ear, and your pussy is so fucking sensitive. You can feel your orgasm burning relentlessly in your stomach. Just a little more, just a little-

“Thought about taking you to the back of the plane, mid flight. Thought about fucking you hard, stuffing this pretty pussy, making you go back out to work with my cum dripping down your thighs. You want that, sweet girl? Fuck you’re so pretty, so pretty baby, you’ve gotta cum. Please, please let me fuck this pussy. Be my good girl, cum all over my hand.”

You don’t think he means it like a command, but you follow it anyway. You moan, throaty and wet, into the sheets as your cunt clenches around Frankie’s fingers, hips twitching as he presses reassuring kisses to your shoulder. You turn your head blindly, and he leans forward to meet your lips in a bruising kiss, his fingers buried deep inside as you gush all over his hand.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you whisper against his lips, repeating it like a mantra, and Frankie whimpers, needy and so hot that it makes you want to cry.

“Okay, baby, okay, I’ve got you,” he says, and you know he does. 

When Frankie presses the blunt tip of his cock against the opening of your sensitive pussy, you both groan. You push your hips back just as he pushes his hips forward, and the tip of his cock is just as big as the rest of him. Which, of course, means fucking massive. You have to breathe through the stretch of him inside you as he sinks deep, deeper, deeper. 

“Doing so fucking good, sweetheart. Jesus fuck- ah- so fucking tight baby- fucking beautiful- oh fuck-” Frankie mutters, sounding just as overwhelmed as you feel. It feels like forever until he bottoms out, his hips pressed against your ass as he hunches over you, hot and big and all man. It’s a dream that you’ve had before, but the reality is so much better than anything you could have ever imagined.

“So- you’re so big, Frankie,” you whimper, and Frankie groans behind you. “Need you to fuck me, wanna feel it tomorrow, please, please-” and he does. He pulls his hips back, just to shove himself back in, and the drag of his fat cock against that spot he found earlier has tears springing unbidden to your eyes. 

“Yes! Oh my god, like that, just like that-” you’ve never talked this much before during sex. But his unyielding thrusts, deep, deep inside, have you babbling wildly.

“Christ, you can’t talk like that, princesa, gonna make me blow my fucking load-”

“Want it, fuck Frankie, want you dripping down my fucking thighs, wanna gape open after you fuck me, oh god-”

Frankie fucks in harder, and it’s like every thought you’ve ever had flies out of you. His chest and stomach press into your back as he holds you still, thrusting desperately into you, harder and harder.

The bed is creaking, a rhythmic squeak that mixes in with the endless sounds of your keening whines and Frankie’s moans, and the obscene squelching of your pussy around Frankie’s cock. Your wetness drips down your thighs as Frankie bullies his way inside. He’s hitting that beautiful spot inside you, so perfectly, so overwhelmingly perfect, and fuck, tears are dripping down your face as you clutch onto a pillow, only able to squeak out pitiful whines of “Frankie, Frankie,” as he destroys you.

“So fucking gorgeous for me, god, bebita, fuckin’- fucking tight, fucking strangling me. Been too long, honey? Too long since you got fucked like you deserve?” Frankie growls into your ear, fucking you like a god damn animal.

Frankie’s lost control above you, which he just doesn’t do. He’s always in control, always, he has to be in this profession. But it’s like you’ve stripped him bare, literally and figuratively, to the most primal parts of himself. You’re so fucking hot and wet and tight around him, whining and throwing yourself back on his cock like it’s the best you’ve ever had, and he’s losing it. Losing it far too quickly, and he’s going to cum far too quickly.

“C’mon, baby, give me another one,” he groans, “squeeze my cock with this perfect fuckin’ pussy, wanna, wanna feel it.”

“Touch my clit- oh please, please, Frankie, ah- ah” and he does, the moment the words leave your lips. He reaches underneath the both of you, not breaking the rhythm of his hips driving into yours, and rubs two of those thick, calloused fingers against your throbbing clit.

“Fuck- yes, just like that, just like that, oh my god.” You’re slurring your words, so stupidly drunk on the feeling of his cock filling you over and over, of his body radiating heat above you.

“Gonna take care of you hermosa, make you cum like you deserve, so fuckin’ beautiful crying on my cock,” Frankie says, rubbing your clit hard and methodical. “Never gonna get enough of you baby. Gonna fuck you in every hotel we ever get, fuck you at the terminal, fuck this pussy in the god damn cockpit, oh shit-”

And you’re screaming, outright screaming into the sheets as the thread in your stomach snaps, your pussy clenching and gushing all over Frankie’s giant cock. He’s still mumbling into the cook of your neck, mindless mumbles about how pretty you are, how perfect, as you tremble through the most powerful orgasm of your fucking life. It’s devastating, it breaks you apart and puts you back together all at once, and you just have to trust Frankie to hold you together in his strong arms.

“Where do you want it, huh baby? Please, please, you’ve gotta tell me, oh shit-” Frankie whimpers, and it’s a damned good thing you still have enough brain cells to understand what he means.

“Inside, inside, 'm on the pill, please, please fill me up.” It’s fucking risky that you both didn’t even think about a condom, but with a man like Frankie, it’s hard to think about anything.

His hips still, his cock pressed inside so deep that it feels like he could be in your lungs, as he fills your pussy with his cum. He bites harshly into your shoulder, but it doesn’t fully muffle his whimpers as he crashes through his orgasm. Your eyes flutter shut. You wish you could bottle those sounds and listen to them forever.

Your knees slide out from under you, leaving you laying flat on your stomach, and Frankie follows, holding himself against you as you wait for your breathing to slow. 

“That was…” you whisper into the quiet.

“Fucking amazing.”

You can’t suppress your giggle. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Frankie.”

He tucks his face into the crook of your shoulder, and you can feel his pretty smile, before he’s lifting himself off of you, and you realize how cold you are without his heat.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” he says, and you can’t bring yourself to do anything more than nod. Frankie rushes quickly into the en suite bathroom, and you can hear the sink running for a moment, before he comes back. A warm, wet rag makes its way down your back, over the curve of your ass, and between your legs. He’s ridiculously gentle as he wipes you down, and it’s wonderful. 

Once Frankie deems you clean again, he climbs into bed next to you. He wraps his arms around your placid body, tugging you close. “Didn’t take you for a cuddler, Frankie,” you murmur, but you only snuggle closer, relishing in his deep chuckle.

“I’m usually not.”

“You don’t do this often, though?” you say, dragging a finger down his chest, your eyes already fluttering shut.

You feel Frankie’s lips press to your forehead as he murmurs, “I think I’m willing to let this,” he hugs you against him softly, “become a new habit.”

You smile, and you lean up to kiss him gently. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

[kalimarinus]

offerings from the unnamed.

[ summary : a mystery person is leaving gifts for 141? ]

[ relationships : tf141 x gn!reader (platonic) ]

[ warnings : 3rd person & 2nd-ish pov , gn reader 🤍 , use of y/n (your name) & c/n (codename/callsign) , unedited & not proofread , i know nothing about the military once again ]

[ word count : 2,392 ]

[ notes : back after another long while , yeah!!! this was fun <3 i can't believe this is 2k words what ?!@?!>@/ that's longer than my previous fic & this was just like a spitball idk..., also the 141 might just have memory loss why is everyone forgetting everything!! (y'all idk why i got so into it w gaz and price's section like why is it so long and soap and ghost's are so short???. but more the merrier, right...?) ]

John Price:

he was pretty surprised at first, he did not expect to see a bouquet of roses on his desk. though, he doesn't question it? 

—until he walks up closer to examine the flowers, just to see a little tag with a note on it that reads: 'for my favorite captain. -a/n.'

now he's a little confused. could it be one of his sergeants? his lieutenant? hell, it could be so many other people.

the only hint is the handwriting. he swears he can recognize it. 

but suddenly price reminds himself he actually has work, so never mind the flowers, for now, he needs to get back to doing his paperwork and such. 

as he works away and whatnot, the thought of the roses is lingering in the back of his mind and slowly creeping up to the front, and he can't seem to ignore the questions.

"why roses?" "whose handwriting is that? i swear i know it." "for me? why not anybody else?"

he's utterly perplexed at this point, so he quickly finishes up whatever he needs to do and turns to the bouquet he left sitting on the other side of the desk long ago.

after many, many minutes of just trying to grasp the mysterious person whose handwriting looks the same as on the tag, he gives up.

gives up on trying to figure out this anonymous roses bullshit by himself, anyway. the captain goes to his two closest buddies, unsurprisingly nikolai and laswell.

he questions them, he tells them everything. to the point he walked through the door and saw the bouquet and to the point where he was now asking them for 'help'. but it just ends up being just a lot more questions and inevitably no answers.

he goes to his lieutenant. his two sergeants. nothing.

now he gives up fully. nobody knows anything about this or who it might be. not him, his best friends, or his own task force.

time passes quickly until it's the end of the day (and he's surprised he's almost spent hours trying to figure this puzzling gift out), and he's trying to come to terms with this.

'it's intended to be anonymous, he shouldn't be trying to figure this out, and he shouldn't lose sleep over this.' is what he tells himself when he gets back to his barracks.

he looks down at the mysterious bouquet in his hand that never had left him alone since he'd come across it, like a fungus that had grown on a damp and and won't let go, and he lets out a sigh.

but john supposes he doesn't mind keeping it. if it really is someone he's friends with (which he's sure), he shouldn't just throw it away. he'll keep it.

which is what he does. preparing and cleaning a random glass jar big enough to fit the flowers, found somewhere around his barracks. it's now put to better use instead of just collecting dust, now filled up with water, the stems of the roses inside.

he sets it on the nightstand next to his bed, and for some reason the room feels a little more homey. oh and don't forget the tag, which he sets next to the jar of blossoms, just in case he does remember who's handwriting that is, he'll be 100% sure who it is and won't be doubting himself if he checks it.

he has come to terms with it now. he's comfortable in bed and he won't be asking himself or anyone else questions that'll lead to nothing. he's sure the one who gave him the bouquet will reveal themselves soon enough. like he told himself, 'he won't lose sleep over this.'

and he is about to drift off into sleep— until suddenly he remembers, and he jolts, sitting up.

he turns his head to look at the roses as his brain is overwhelmed with inquiry. price knows who it is. it's c/n. it's y/n. and now he just has more questions, some the same as previous ones but with the added confusion that it's you that got the flowers for him.

he is going to lose sleep over this after all.

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish:

when soap first heard about the captain's situation, he thought it was hilarious. he got roses from an unknown individual? that's silly. he almost even started laughing seeing price so frustrated and baffled over a bouquet of plants.

though, after he said he didn't know anything about any flowers and price walked away in disappointment to go question his other sergeant, perhaps he was a little jealous. don't look at him like that. what's so wrong about maybe wanting a secret admirer?

unbeknownst to him, he would get a gift of his own in no time. when he got to the mess hall, he immediately spotted a box of something right on his table. he quickly went to the seat he always sits at, because of course he has a specific place to eat every day— and he hopes it isn't too obvious to the other soldiers nearby that he's resisting the urge to dash over and admire the supposed present.

when he finally gets to see the gift up close, he practically has stars in his eyes. the note on top of the box catches his eyes first before anything, a simple sentence of 'heard you had a sweet tooth.' typed on the printed out paper.

he has to resist a giddy grin creeping onto his face as he carefully slides the note aside, looking at the box of assorted chocolates in front of him. ultimately, he breaks, and a smile is instantly plastered on his face, already taking one of the sweets and plopping it into his mouth, humming contentedly.

he has the urge to dig into all of them because the candy is remarkably delicious and has his body tingling with dopamine, but fights it and chooses on savoring the gift, taking time to relish in each pieces' flavor.

he enjoys the way the first layers of chocolate slowly melts on his tongue and the taste of the equally chocolate-y syrup inside hits him like a freight train— it makes him appreciate the person who gave him this even more so.

don't worry though, johnny isn't too greedy. he saves the other half of the box for later.

eventually, he does lift his glued-on gaze from the gift to around the mess hall. though, he's met with the other soldiers giving him weird looks. and it does look kind of odd to be fair. a grown man, another soldier, in the mess hall eating a randomly fancy box of chocolates by himself.

despite the little awkward situation and the slightly unpleasant, silent walk out of the mess hall with the box in hand, you know he's walking around with a broad grin on his face for probably the next few days.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

to him, the similar occurrence between his captain and sergeant friend was strange. he'd heard identical stories from both of them now— the same concept of a mysterious offering given to them by a mysterious person.

he was wondering if the lieutenant got one too, and just hadn't told anyone. he was also questioning if he would get one as well. was this individual giving gifts to everyone in the task force?

well, he'd find out soon enough. the answer is most definitely yes.

he'd been dragged away by soap just right after a briefing, into a mostly empty hallway. and after a measly, short conversation and or slight argument about why gaz had been dragged here in the first place, and also why soap looked like he was holding in a giggle fit, the latter pulled out a box from his pocket. so he is getting a gift as well— same note and everything.

soap explains that he'd been requested by this 'anonymous person' to deliver him one as well, like a damn messenger pigeon.

so gaz takes the container carefully in hand before soap snickers and scurries away to do whatever.

he's pretty interested in what's inside as he properly takes a look at it. the box is flatter than your average box, black and sleek with of course, a small, yellow sticky note taped on top. 'this is one of our favourite memories. -unknown.'

he glances around the empty hallway for a moment, feeling a bit weird standing in a quiet hallway, opening a present by himself, alone. but nevermind that— he opens it, and kyle is met with.. a necklace. a silver necklace with a heart locket attached to the bottom.

he moderately cocks his head at the sight of the locket, then picks the necklace up with his right hand, the box still resting on the surface of the other. he opens the heart and squints, a mini photograph of himself and.. another recruit, wearing a mask, so he couldn't see their face. his hand was slung over their shoulder and they were doing the same to his, and despite them covering their face, he could still see a small smile on their face and his own.

he can remember this. he thinks he knows this. it was a group photo of the whole task force. there's the other soldiers in this photo too, but the photo is cropped in a way that you can only see him and the other comrade.

but he doesn't seem to.. remember who he was next to? something in his memory is bugged, like when you forget that one word but you also somewhat remember at the same time, or you forget what you were going to say while having a conversation with somebody.

it almost makes him as frustrated as price when he got his gift, but he wants to push those other emotions aside and just focus on the gratefulness he feels. to be honest he adores the necklace. he's sure he would think it suits him if he wore it and looked in the mirror.

and the picture.. he's still thinking about it. still looking at it. he finds the memory charming and sweet, even if he can't remember this soldier properly. he likes the way he can still see both of the happiness and smile in their eyes despite how tiny the image is. he likes the way he can see the shine and colour in their eyes in the dim light where the photo was taken.

the more he admires the jewelry the more he falls in love with it. the more he wants to cherish it and the mysterious fella who has gifted it to him.

after a lot of staring, and smiling at the present in hand, he finally closes the locket and slips the necklace on, briefly feeling the cold silver around his neck before it turns warm from his body heat.

and then he just walks off casually just like soap, who's probably waiting around the corner to ask "what'd you get?"

he now holds the box close to his chest as if he might keep that too, nearing the end of the hallway.

kyle's mind goes to the photo again, and his brain starts whirring with the thoughts of who it is.

but he's sure he'll remember later. he'll know who the person is soon enough, maybe if he sees them walking through the halls with that same mask. but either way, he knows he'll remember, and he'll thank them for this gift.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

now, he already knew he was going to get a gift as well, seeing as everyone in the task force but him has gotten at least something. he's heard price's predicament, johnny entering a briefing a little too happily with small bits of chocolate syrup near his lips, and kyle proudly walking around base wearing a necklace.

but he has some assumptions that the person didn't get anything for him. he's.. well, simon 'ghost' riley, after all. spooky, intimidating to most, tall dude.

but it seems his assumptions were incorrect, because he came back to his barracks after somewhat of a rough mission just to notice a a small, dark box oddly left on top of one of the shelves near his bed.

after easily retrieving the container, he examines it— and there's the typical 'note' from them, a few words written on top of the lid with a white marker. it reads, 'saw this and it reminded me of you. from a soldier friend of yours.'

.. but what if this 'soldier friend' has actually left a bomb inside of this? will it explode right now? a spy camera? is anybody watching?

you can't blame him for the skepticism. a strange box randomly appearing on one of your shelves? you would be hesitant to open it too.

after a few shakes he gives to the box to hear if anything suspicious is inside, he decides that it isn't a miniscule explosive or a secret camera or any other funky gadget.

simon opens it, and one of his eyebrows raises as an automatic response. a bracelet? specifically, a bracelet made of small, shiny, white pearls with a single flower charm.

but he's not ungrateful or doesn't like it, per se, he's just.. confused. as everyone else was.

confused that somebody thought to get him a gift. bought something for him that he never asked for or mentioned or even thought of himself.

it's not what he was expecting at all. a bracelet. really? for him? but why? he stands in that spot for a good minute, trying to make sense of this. but he's also trying to tell himself he doesn't care about this.

but there's a little creature in his heart or in his brain or something whispering to him that he actually kind of likes it.

he won't admit any of this— but he does end up keeping it, box and all. and he does like the gorgeous glossiness of the pearls and the intricate details and carvings of the charm.

he likes the way it feels on his wrist when he slides it on. it has a nice, cool feeling, but not cold enough for it to be uncomfortable. like the way a cold pillow feels nice against your head.

and from that day forward, if you look closely enough, you can always see a glimpse of a shiny piece of jewelry peeking through the bottom of ghost's sleeve.

[foxynez]

Home Is Where The Heart Is (Orm Marius x Fem!Reader)

Summary: A one-night stand leads to something more.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex.

Author's notes: This is a request from an anon. I changed the setting, I hope you don't mind. Maybe it's a bit of cliché, but I just found this easier to write. Takes place before the first movie and after the second.

"C'mon, y/n. Cheer up a little, we're gonna have fun!"

That what's your best friend Maria had said earlier that evening and she always managed to convince you somehow. And she was having fun alright. You sat at the bar and glared over at her dancing with the guy she had been flirting with for the past hour, totally forgetting about you.

You sighed and returned to staring into the empty glass in your hand. It was never you finding someone to flirt with. Maria was the beautiful and confident one. All the guys were always looking at her.

*

Orm lifted his chin and wrinkled his nose as he entered the establishment the surface dwellers called a club. Ugh, this place reeked with sweat and alcohol. It was worse than the Sunken Citadel. He watched the drunk surface dwellers on the floor, grinding their bodies against each other. Was this what they called dancing on the surface? Orm scoffed. So unsophisticated. Orm sighed over the fact that he needed to be here. But, it was important to study all of the surface dwellers behavior, to form the best strategy against them. Sure, he could have sent someone else to reconnaissance, but he only trust his own judgment. And from what he'd seen so far, it would be easy to defeat them. They were so arrogant about their own supremacy in the universe.

Orm scanned the area and located what must be the place where he could buy something to drink. He definitely needed it after spending time on this ugly surface. Thanks to his human associate David Kane, he had obtained currency so he could spend a few days on the surface.

"A glass of your finest red wine," Orm ordered the man behind the desk. The man obliged and placed the glass in front of him. Orm paid what he owed and took a sip.

"Yuk," Orm grimaced at the sour taste. This was the best they had to offer? A giggle next to him made him look to the side. There, he met a pair of sparkling, beautiful e/c eyes looking back at him.

"I know the feeling. I ordered the same," you said with a smile and raised your empty glass.

The blond man quirked an eyebrow and eyed you up and down long enough for you to feel self-conscious. You wouldn't normally call a man pretty, but this man was just that with his stunning eyes blue as the ocean. His physique was slim yet muscular in the black trousers and white shirt he was wearing. You smiled awkwardly and fluttered down your gaze. Okay, didn't this guy know when it was time to stop staring?

Orm had seen many surface woman during the past days he'd spent here, but none of them measured up to your beauty.

"Uhm...so, I haven't seen you here before. Are you knew in town?" you asked to break the awkward silence, cringed at your lame pick-up line.

"Yes. I'm just visiting for a few days. Business," the man replied and finally looked away from you. Not that you really mind him looking at you.

"I see. Welcome to town, I guess. I'm y/n," you smiled and reached out your hand.

The man looked down at your hand like he wondered what he was going to do with it, then he took it in his and you shook his hand.

"Orm. My name is Orm."

"Nice to meet you, Orm."

The man finally smiled and you were lost. "Nice to meet you too, y/n."

*

You didn't know how you ended up at his hotel room. Maybe it was the bad wine clouding your judgment about whether a one-night stand was a good idea or not? Or maybe it was the fact that Orm was so damn charming? A bit arrogant yes, but definitely charming.

Clothes were quickly discarded, both of you eager to feel the warmness of each other's bodies. Orm smirked up at you as he pushed your legs apart, his curls tickling your inner thighs as he opened you up, licking along your inner lips. That first touch of his tongue sent sparks throughout your body and you moaned, your body jerking at the contact. You were already swollen, warm, and open for him. Orm explored your pussy, running his tongue up and down, slowly and deliberately, leaving out the most sensitive parts.

Arousal kept building up in your core, your pussy clenching with need to be filled and satisfied.

Orm sucked your inner folds between his lips, tugging at them, then repeated this on the other side, working his way towards your clit. You grabbed his head, burying your fingers in his curls as your eyes flew open, your body ready for the oncoming pleasure. But just when he was almost at your clit, he worked his way back again and you let out a desperate whine

"Orm, please...," you mewled, bucking your hips against him as his tongue swirled around the entrance of your pussy.

"You want to come?" he asked in a teasing tone.

Glaring down, you met his amused gaze and bit your lip as you nodded, your pussy clenching as he smiled up at you. Orm smirked and lowered his head, sucking your clit into his mouth and massaging it with his lips, rolling it gently, teasingly.

"Oh, yes!" you gasped and bucked your hips against him. Orm grabbed your hips and held you tighter as your squirming became more urgent.

He circled the entrance in small, swirling motions, licking the juices leaking from it. Then, without warning, he pushed his tongue in as deeply as possible. You moaned, a combination of relief and anticipation of the coming pleasure. The low moans escaping from your throat spurred him on. He stopped tongue fucking you and licked his way up to your clit, closing his lips over it. You could feel his tongue swirl around in slow circles, with an occasional flick against it as it protruded from behind its hood.

"Fuck, I'm so close...," you bit your lip and cupped your breasts, squeezing your nipples hard. Orm's only response was to begin sucking on your clit to push you over the edge. Your body tensed and your moans became louder, pleasure washing over you as you came against his mouth. Your orgasm was slowly subsiding when you felt Orm spreading you open and pushing two fingers inside you. You were so wet with arousal and saliva that he easily slipped inside.

Orm looked up at you and met your lustful gaze as he turned his fingers upward, the thick pads toward your belly. Soon he found your g-spot and started to put pressure against it in circular motions, a smirk spreading on his lips as that spongy flesh began to swell.

"Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!!!" you cried out as you came again, your body convulsing as his fingers buried deep inside your pussy gave you the most intense orgasm of your life. Your convulsions began to subside, and at that moment, Orm pushed inside you, all of his thick, hard cock filling you up completely.

"Oh, fuck!" you gasped and grabbed his arms as his cock made your body quiver.

Orm groaned and pushed your legs up to your chest, his eyes feral as he started pounding into you at a ruthless pace that took you to your third orgasm within seconds. Orm continued to fuck you through your climax, his grunts filling the air, growing more erratic with each thrust.

"Fuck, I love how tight you feel around me," Orm mumbled and clenched his jaw as he came, his gaze never leaving yours as he filled your womb with his seed. Leaning down, he caught your lips with his, kissing you softly as his cock continued to twitch inside you. You sighed contently against his lips and slid your hands up his broad frame, neither of you contemplating the risks of what you just did.

~ Some years later ~

The next day, Orm was gone and you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed about it.

"What are we doing here?" Orm asked after Arthur knocked on the door to the house they were standing at.

Arthur looked at his brother with a big smile. "We're at an old friend of mine. She always said that if I ever needed it, she would have a spare bed for me. So I thought, what better place for you to lay low than here?"

Orm raised an eyebrow. "She?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It was never like that. She's just a friend."

Orm gave his brother a meaningful glance just as the door opened. He turned his head around, his eyes widening when he saw the woman standing there.

You were surprised to see Arthur outside your door.

"Arthur?" you said and smiled at your old friend. "What are you-" You stopped mid-sentence when your gaze landed on the man standing beside him. Your eyes widened when you looked into the familiar, blue eyes and a pang of heat rushed through your belly.

"Orm?"

Arthur looked between the two of you in confusion. "Wait a second, you two know each other?"

Both you and Orm looked away flustered and Arthur immediately understood the situation. He chuckled delightfully. "Really? You two? When?"

"A couple of years back," Orm answered and rubbed his neck, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I was on the surface, doing reconnaissance."

"On the surface?" You frowned as you looked at Orm, your eyes widening when you realized what he was saying. "Wait a minute...are you like Arthur?"

"I'm his brothe-"

"Mommy, mommy!"

Orm stared at the little boy running up to you and taking your hand, a pair of bright, blue eyes staring back at him with wonder. It felt as if all air had left his lungs as he slowly processed what was happening.

Arthur stared at the blue-eyed boy with golden curls then at his brother, then back at the boy again, not being able to find his words for the first time in his life.

"I-I...I didn't want you to find out like this. I searched for you for a long time, but it was like you never existed. Now I understand why," you said with a bitter smile and looked down at your son. "And now I understand where Ozia's strength comes from."

"I...I have a son?" Orm asked in stunned shock as he looked up at you then back at the little boy.

"Yes, Orm." You smiled and picked up your son in your arms. "Orm, this is Ozia. Ozia, this man here is your father, and this is your uncle."

Ozia stared at Orm with big eyes and Orm gave him a nervous smile.

"Nice to meet you, Ozia."

The boy didn't reply, only hid his face against your chest.

"He's a little shy with strangers," you said and smiled. "But hopefully you won't be a stranger for long. If that's what you want? To be in his life?"

Orm looked at you and the boy in your arms, and a sensation he'd never felt before spread in his chest. Was it...true love?

"There's nothing I want more," Orm replied and smiled. For the first time in a long time, he felt warm and safe, like he found the place where he belonged.

Thank you for taking your time to read ♡

Tagging: @alishaslibrary

[songmingisthighs]

how ateez treats your child

group : ateez

pairing : ateez (individual) × single mom!reader

genre : fluff

wc : 3 k

warning : children. children are walking warning signs.

a/n : this cancelled my sleep so there's that </3

buy me coffee ?

hongjoong

The door of your apartment opened and in comes your son squealing happily for you, almost running inside until Hongjoong stopped him to take his shoes off first. As Hongjoong helped him, he was grinning widely at you who walked over to meet them halfway, "Hi mommy!" He called, finally able to rush to give you a huge hug once his shoes were completely off. "Hiya, bud! How was your day with Hongjoong?" Though you asked him, Hongjoong beat him to answering, "We had a great time! Little buddy here mastered the C, D, G, and A chord on the piano!" He boasted as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pecking your lips gently making your son gag before rushing to put his backpack in his room.

You both separated momentarily and you cupped your boyfriend's face, "Seriously Joongie, thank you so much for picking him up from school, I swear I would've done-" Hongjoong stopped your rambling by planting another soft peck on your lips with a chuckle, "Hey, I told you we had a great time. I finally found someone who wouldn't complain sitting in my studio for hours on end and you can't take that away from me," teased, poking fun at the times you complained about him needing a break from his work.

Just as you were about to shower him with more affection, your son returned to push Hongjoong away with all his might. "My turn to hug mommy!" He said after he managed to unlatch Hongjoong from you. Feeling challenged, Hongjoong pulled him away just as he was about to wrap all four of his limbs around you, "No way, I spent the day with you now I want time with my girlfriend." Hongjoong knew how jealous your son can be because he too is a jealous man. So as expected, your son screeched and began to try to get Hongjoong as far away from you as he could. But of course, Hongjoong retaliated, using your son's socks clad feet to carefully push him just enough so he'd slide away from you while you stood there both confused and amused at their shenanigans.

seonghwa

On Saturdays, you'd usually spend the morning catching up with your friends and knowing this, Seonghwa made sure to sleep over on Fridays as often as he could to help care for your daughter (which is crap because he's always at your place anyways). Unbeknownst to you, he and your daughter had bonded beyond your imagination. Not that you were surprised since Seonghwa had spent years taking care of a group filled with 5 year olds, your own 5 year old must've been easy to take care of.

When you came back from your brunch, you were surprised to find Seonghwa and your daughter by the dining table, your daughter standing on a chair and Seonghwa close to her side, looking absolutely serious. They had their arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, and lips pursed as they stared at the 10 plates of cake in front of them. It was honestly an adorable sight because for some reason, you saw how they looked so similar.

"Am I interrupting something?" You chuckled as you approached them. Seonghwa welcomed you by wrapping an arm around your hip and kissing the side of your head as youe daughter answered, "Hwahwa and I are food testing again! Today's theme is bakery we can't pronounce!" She grinned widely before returning to glare at the cakes. "Aaaaaand why are you guys only staring at these cakes?" You asked with a raised eyebrow. Seonghwa sighed and shook his head, "We can't decide where to start so we're trying to rank them from the prettiest first before actually sampling them," Seonghwa explained. "And it's such a hard decision!" Your daughter groaned and dramatically leaned on Seonghwa for support. Reciprocating, your boyfriend also faked a cry, turning around to let you go in favour of hugging your daughter, "We are stuck in a dilemma!" "Well, whatever you guys decide to do, better do it fast before the ants tries the cakes first," you sighed before retreating to change, leaving your boyfriend and your daughter to go back to... whatever activity they were doing.

yunho

Babysitting was something Yunho didn't expect to do for his girlfriend. Then again, he didn't expect that he'd be dating a single mom. Luckily, you had the most precious daughter that just melt Yunho's whole being and he loves her so much that he didn't consider babysitting as babysitting anymore.

As he was washing the dishes after eating the food he got for him and your daughter, he heard the soft pitter patter of her tiny feet and then he felt soft tugs on his sweatpants. Without abandoning his task, Yunho looked down at the girl with a gentle smile, "Yes, peanut?" She giggled happily, liking the nickname a lot. "Can you teach me how to dance?" She asked, tilting her head to the side like the most adorable puppy ever. Yunho grinned widely because he had always wanted to impart some of his knowledge to someone and the most imparting he had done was turning his little brother to a gaming nerd. After wiping his hands with a rag, Yunho crouched down to the girl's level (as best he could because even when crouching down, the tiny girl only reached his chin), "Okay then, what dance do you wanna learn?"

Your daughter decided that she wanted to learn Bouncy which wasn't even in the list of dances Yunho offered her as he thought it would be too hard for her. But she was adamant, shaking her head so hard that her pigtails almost came loose. But to Yunho's pleasant surprise, the girl was amazing. She picked up the choreography smoothly in 3 tries. Sure, Yunho had to simplify certain parts but she got most of the choreography down. He couldn't help but takw a video of them dancing together and sending it to his groupmates, parents, and even you, captioning it 'look at me and my peanut ♡'.

yeosang

It was a casual day which was rare for both you and Yeosang. Since your life has been so hectic, you decided to stay in with your son who decided he wanted to use the time he had to finish his homework. Yeosang and he had been friendly with each other but they were not close (yet) as they haven't spent much time together nor have they found anything in common. But you were hopeful.

You and Yeosang were cuddled on the couch as the TV played a drama that you and he wanted to watch while your son sat on the floor with his homework spread open on the portable desk. "I'll be right back sweetie," you told Yeosang, patting him on the thigh before walking away to go to the bathroom. At first, Yeosang only paid attention to the tv but from the corner of his eyes, he could see your son looking around for you every so often, lips pouting and hand scratching his head which indicated that he was stuck on his homework. For some reason, Yeosang found it in him to be the first one to make the move, "Hey there buddy, what homework do you got there?" He asked, catching your son by surprise. For a moment, your son could only look back and forth between the homework and Yeosang, hesitating. Yeosang was about to tell him that he didn't have to share when your son grabbed his book and walked over to Yeosang on his knees and dropped the book on Yeosang's lap, "It's math but I don't know how to do this," he said sadly, gesturing to the opened page. Yeosang grinned widely and his chest puffed with pride, "Well, lucky for you, I'm a math wiz! Come on, let's solve this together."

When you came back, you saw Yeosang had situated himself next to your son on his portable desk, teaching him how to solve the equations that he was stuck on and he was conversing with the boy so well. He allowed the boy to try and solve the equation and gently letting him know where he was wrong. They were so immersed that they hadn't realized you returning to your seat as they took a break to play the multiplication game, evem teasing each other when the other took too long to answer.

san

San loved kids and it showed with how he actually volunteered on babysitting your son as you go on a business trip. At first you were worried because your son had never been away from you to be in a place that's not your home. But San convinced you that it was fine, he was fine with spending time with his best bud and if it wasn't for the great bond they had, you wouldn't have been able to leave your baby to tend to your responsibilities.

"Say bye to mommy!" San urged your son who was sitting on his lap wearing his beanie. "Bye mommy! I miss you!" Your son said as he waved his hands to the camera while San did the same, throwing lots of air kisses your way before hanging up. As soon as the call ended, your son went back to watching San played a game. "Is that uncle Yunho?" He asked, reaching forward to point at a character on the screen. San grinned widely and pat the boy on the head gently, "That's right, bud! You're starting to understand the game, don't you?" They spent another hour like that, San playing the game with Yunho, Yeosang, and Jongho as your son ask him questions and eventually even tried a round (to which he died within 30 seconds and San had to hug and reassure him that he'd teach him how to play better and in time, he might be great).

Without realizing, as it was his habit, San started singing random songs that popped into his head. The crisp sound of keyboard and mouse clicking paired with San's honey voice proved to induce sleep in your son as his eyes drooped low and his eyelids fluttered ever so gently before closing. It took a while for San to realize that your son had been quiet, only leaning on his sturdy chest. When he looked down, San almost squaled at just how adorable your son looked sleeping so comfortably; one of his eyes covered by the beanie that had shifted, his mouth agape, and his body completely relaxed comfortably in San's lap. Carefully, San took a selfie of him and your son, changing the picture to his homescreen before shutting the game and bringing the boy who wrapped his arms tightly around San's neck when San lifted him up to the bed so he could sleep soundly. Even then, your son refused to let go of San, holding onto two of San's fingers as he dozed off to dreamland where San soon followed.

mingi

Kids were something Mingi wanted in the future. He knew he wanted to have his own but he knew that he's going to have to learn and practice before actually having one. Which was a predicament considering he's dating someone with a 3 year old daughter. But she's just the most precious thing ever that Mingi pushed his insecurities away to dote on the princess.

Like now, Mingi found himself unable to peel away from your bed where your daughter was napping. He was mesmerized at how adorable she looked with her tiny tiny snores and absolute relaxed expression. "Mingi, baby, you're going to wake her up if you keep staring at her like that," you said, poking your boyfriend on his shoulder for him to simply wave you off, "No I won't, I promise. I'm just trying to understand how she's so absolutely adorable like a tiny tiny marshmallow," he squeaked in utter adoration. You couldn't help but smile and rolled your eyes at how whipped Mingi was for your daughter but you couldn't blame him. "Well, I'm going to go the convenience store because the little princess is going to want her yogurt when she wakes up and we're out. So you try your best to not eat this tiny tiny marshmallow," you teased him before leaving the room and the apartment.

After a while, Mingi felt a little thirsty so he carefully got off the bed and went to the kitchen. He was just taking his first gulp when he heard soft whimpers and sobs coming from your room. Immediately, he put the glass down and rushed to the little girl who was sitting up on the bed, sniffling because she thought she was left alone. When she heard Mingi came in, she immediately reached both hands towards him, asking to be picked up. "Minnie," she whimpered with trembling bottom lip. Without thinking, Mingi scooped the girl up in his arms and started calming her down while she clung on him for dear life. "Don't worry princess, Minnie's here, Minnie's got you," he repeated, smiling to himself when he heard the girl calming down as she nuzzled her face on his shoulder, finally content.

wooyoung

Initially you hesitated dating Wooyoung because you have a daughter. A 4 year old daughter who is your whole life and the very reason you hesitated being in a relationship. But when you found Wooyoung who absolutely adored your daughter, you knew you made the right choice taking the leap.

Usually, the men you date would make you leave your daughter at your friend's or with a babysitter or even with your parents by guilt-tripping or bluntly stating that they didn't feel comfortable with your kid. Not Wooyoung though, not at all. He's the type to want to take your daughter on your dates, even going as far as planning the date around your daughter. You couldn't forget her face when Wooyoung took her to the fox cafe, seeing them both running around the place and somehow blending in with the animals. That day, Wooyoung came home with 137 nee pictures and videos of your daughter going nuts over the animals. Since then, they were insepparable.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up my daughter," you smiled at the receptionist of the daycare who stared at you in confusion. "I-I'm sorry, but someone already came in for your daughter," she said, causing your eyes to bulge out in panic, "What? Who? Why would you let a stranger take my child?" Your voice was getting louder which scared the poor receptionist. "I-I'm sorry ma'am it-it's just that, your daughter called him papa so I-" "Papa? Who-" just as you were about to continue, your eyes saw a very familiar figure holding your daughter in his arms, happily talking. Wooyoung's eyes met yours and he momentarily paused, realizing that he got caught "kidnapping" your daughter. Just as you were about to call for him, Wooyoung grinned widely and pointed at you which caused your daughter to turn in his arms and beamed. "Now, say bye bye to mama!" He teased but your daughter did as she was told anyways, waving at you happily saying bye bye before Wooyoung whisked her away without any care, casually walking out of the daycare as if you weren't frozen in your spot, looking at them leaving just like that.

jongho

Jongho knew what he got himself into when he agreed to date you, knowing full well that you have a son. He didn't really care about whether or not you have a child but he grew very fond of the boy rather quickly. How can he not? The boy seemed to take a liking to Jongho to the point that he idolized the man. Especially Jongho's strength.

The three of you went out for a picnic because it was such a beautiful day and your son remembered Jongho saying that he should be out when the sun is out. As he was helping you take food out, he noticed the boy was doing the same, even taking glances at how Jongho was doing things. It was absolutely adorable. Suddenly, Jongho stood up and reached for a bag to produce a soccer ball. "Hey, bud," he spun and tossed the ball in his hands and you could see your son getting so hyped up, super excited, "Wanna learn how to play soccer?" Jongho asked. Seeing as your son basically had sparkles in his eyes, you could only roll your eyes playfully and shoo them off to play so you could FINALLY set the food up in peace..

They chose a spot not too far, somewhere you can still keep an eye on your son but still relax in the shady area with your book. Jongho and your son were having a blast being active together. The boy was thrilled to have been given personal coaching from the guy he admired most and Jongho was experiencing the joy of mentoring a child who looked up to him as much. "There you go, buddy! That's it!" Jongho cheered when your son managed to kick the ball with a running start. Unfortunately, once the ball was kicked, he tripped and fell on the grass. Just as you were about to rush to him, you saw Jongho rushing at the boy who had tears brimming in his eyes and a quivering bottom lip, frozen on the ground not knowing what to do. Without hesitation, Jongho pulled the boy up and hugged him tightly in his strong arms, "I'm so proud of you, buddy! That was such a good kick!" Jongho was hoping that by reminding him of his achievement, your son wouldn't focus much on his fall which thankfully happened. When your son pulled away from Jongho's hug, he was giggling while wiping the tears away with his arm, nodding shyly. "Do you think you can do that again after we eat something?" Jongho asked as he adjusted the boy before swooping down to grab the ball on the ground and walking towards where you were. You've never seen your son so excited talking about anything to anyone and frankly, you couldn't be more glad that it was Jongho who made him so.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

taglist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @thesolarplanetarysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread @spooo00oky @jwnghyuns @cutie-wooyo @asjkdk @shinotani @aestheticsluut

@chloepurpy

[observeowl]

Second Chance | Chapter 1 - How It Was

Series masterlist

It was no secret that your marriage with Nat was falling apart. Your friends and families could tell there was no longer that same spark in your eyes when you were with Nat. Deep down, you know it was going downhill, but you were in denial that she was drifting further away from you. The girl you dreamed of chasing since high school and eventually started dating in college. You finally achieved your dreams and didn’t want the perfect fantasy to fall apart, so you continued pretending everything was fine. 

It all began when you started trying for kids. Due to Nat’s history and her work type, you knew that the responsibility lay on you, and you have been going on treatment, but to no success. It has been a year of trying, and the constant negative results make you feel like a failure. It’s worse when your wife has such a hard time showing emotions which cements your thought that whatever you felt was right. 

This, coupled with the long working hours that both of you have, the time spent between you both reduced over the months. Barely a few words were exchanged in the morning before both came back late, too tired to have a conversation or even an argument. The house that both of you bought became a place to sleep rather than a safe place to relax. You found yourself staying behind in the office later to avoid meeting Natasha. Thinking about how you were going to report to your parents even though they already knew about up in heaven. 

The same goes for Natasha. She didn’t say anything, but since she was working with Clint, she was unable to avoid him. And being her work partner for such a long time, he knew when something was wrong. He could tell this wasn’t her usual lousy mood, but something was heavy on her shoulders. He tried getting Nat to talk, but it wasn’t working; she was great at deflecting and making him work as his superior. 

The crack finally shattered when you attended Wanda’s twins’ one-year-old birthday celebration. The standoffish feeling with Natasha affected everyone that Wanda had to pull you aside for a moment to talk.

Trying to keep her composure, you looked at Wanda only to be met with the concerned gaze of her best friend, who had long noticed that something was wrong, falling apart. “It’s nothing. We just disagree on some stuff before coming here.” Nevertheless, you decided to lie, not wanting to ruin the party. 

Wanda looked at you carefully before using her eyes to tell Vision to take care of other guests and keep them away from here. “I know it’s more than that. Everyone knows. Everyone knows how hard you have been trying, and it’s not your fault. Something just can’t be forced.” 

“I know, Wanda. But it doesn’t stop it from hurting.” You told her defeatedly. “I can’t give her what she wants, and she hates me for it.” You found yourself looking for Natasha, who was talking to Steve. She was looking a lot more relaxed being away from you. 

“Just because she’s hurting doesn’t mean you can’t be. It’s a process that both of you have to go through. And you don’t have to do it alone. You have us.” You gave Wanda a grateful smile, but you were done talking about this. You left the corner and went back to the party. 

You tried to have fun, but there was always something nagging behind your mind. This group of friends did not belong to you, and you were here because they were Nat’s friends. You may have gotten closer with them over the years, but they support her through and through. It may be an alcohol-induced thought, but it planted the seed in your head. 

You could see Wanda looking worriedly at you as you were at the doorsteps getting ready to leave with the other guests, but you couldn’t give her anything more than a smile before turning to leave. 

===

“We need to talk, Nat.” You spoke before your mind pulled you back once you reached home after returning from Wanda’s. “We have done enough of hiding from each other. We both know that something has changed between us. We don’t even spend time together anymore.” 

Nat sighed. “Maybe I just need time to figure things out myself, Y/N.” This was exactly why you didn’t want to approach this topic, she gets irritated easily, and her first reaction would be to push everyone out. It would only lead to her saying hurtful things. “I knew since young that I wouldn’t be able to have kids of my own, and now that we are struggling… I need to process that this is a fact that I have to live with.” 

“Don’t you think I’m feeling stressed from all of this? Having to constantly walk on eggshells around you, making sure that you won’t leave.” You patted your chest, feeling wronged. “You don’t have to lie. I know you blame me for not being able to give you what you want. I want this as much as you do!” You forced the tears to roll back, but some managed to sit at the edge of your eyes. Your lips trembled as you stared at her. “I didn’t want to be like this. I didn’t ask to be like this.” 

Looking at Natasha turning and leaving me behind broke you more than you thought it would. You had been used to seeing people’s backs for the longest, but hers hurt the most. You just wanted her to hold you and tell you it would be alright. 

Hot tears rolled down your face, and you walked into the garage, where you were sure that  Natasha wouldn’t hear you break down. You sat in your car for a while before deciding to get away from here. Wanda was right, both of you needed to process this in your own time. You drove out of the street with nowhere in mind. If only you had kept in contact with your friends and not been a hermit since college, you would have somewhere to take refuge. 

You took in your surroundings, seeing that there were no cars around. You didn’t even know how you got to this part of town or if you broke traffic rules. When the light turned green, you stepped on the accelerator going forward. Suddenly a car came from nowhere and crashed right into your car. Everything went black. You opened your eyes as you felt a sharp pain in your chest. You were hanging upside down, suspended by your seatbelt. Your eyes drifted and locked onto your phone, you just wanted to call Nat, but your limbs were too heavy to move. The air was thick with smoke, and it was getting harder to breathe as you faded into darkness once again. 

Series masterlist

@oh-thats-cute

[wosoluver]

There's a place for you hc

Part 3

Claudia Pina Masterlist

Patri Guijarro Masterlist

Between the three of us

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Finally!" you said jumping on the bed you saw in front of you.

You, Claudia and Patri were traveling together this summer, just for a couple of days until you had to meet with your other friends. You had booked a villa and getting there you guys did the usual 'first to get to the best room gets it' and you were the first to enter it.

"You cheated!" said Patri, coming in to the bedroom.

"I didn't, you were the one who offered to carry our bags in!"

"Yeah, she's right. Also let her be, she never wins anything!" said Clau laughing.

"Hey!" you faked offended, throwing a pillow at her, who easily dodged it. "I don't know about you two but I'm going for a swim!" getting up to look for your bikini.

"What about lunch though?" asked Patri.

"We can cook something!" said Clau exited.

"Count me out!" said the midfielder.

"What? Your the one who brought it up!" argued the forward.

"I'll help! We are better off without her, she can't even fry an egg." you said poking some fun at Guijarro once again.

"You are so lucky I'm not in charge of food, I would poison you!" she yelled while the two of you disappeared to the kitchen.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"I think I need a siesta after that spaghetti." said Clau.

"That makes us two."

"I'd say it makes us three but I'm going to clean the dishes. I'll be right back." said Patri.

"Do you need any help?" you offered.

"No. Just make sure you don't fall asleep in the sun again! You look awful as a shrimp."

You only looked her way and showed her your tongue as usual, as Clau only laughed and shook her head. Moving to lay by the pool.

"Here let put some sunscreen on ya."

You only followed her request, lying on your back as she softly massaged the cream on you. Making you shiver under the 30°C sun, just with her touch.

Again, only doing best friends' things. So why did it feel so much more intimate than that?

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

The three of you spent the rest of the day there, enjoying the weather and the water. When the sun started to set you decided to go in for a shower.

when you came out into the bedroom Clau was sprawled over the big bed.

"You showered already?"

she nodded. "You're the only person I know who takes one hour showers at least twice a day."

you gave her a small laugh as you layed down next to her.

"Why does the water makes us so sleepy?"

"And hungry! What are we ordering?"

"I don't know, wait till Patri comes out of the shower. She'll probably want something different again."

You both laid there peacefully, for another 20 minutes.

"Hey! What are you guys doing!" said Patri throwing her hair brush at the two of you lightly.

"We're just chilling." Clau answered her. trowing a pillow at her.

"What about me?" she argued back with a big pout, throwing the pillow across the room again to hit the other.

"Don't fight! My heart is big enough for the two of you and so is the bed." you said jokingly trying to reason with them.

But soon you realized they went a bit quiet.

"Ay, what's with the faces? It was just a joke!" you say again, looking between the two girls, Claudia with a somewhat serious look swallowing hard and Patri with a slight panicked face. "What are ordering for dinner?" you asked trying to change the subject.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Good morning." said Pina walking into the kitchen, going to give Patri a small peck in the lips.

"Be careful!" she whisper yelled.

"Don't worry, you know she'll probably only wake up in a couple of hours.

She's the most not morning person to ever exist."

"I don't know how she manages to make it to training." she said pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Probably only because she gets paid to."

Pina agreed. "Yes, but I think we need to talk about something."

"About?"

"Y/N."

"She keeps hitting on us."

"I'm not bothered, are you?"

"Of course not. But we should've told her already."

"I know but what if she gets upset? What if she distances herself? I don't want that."

"Me either, but she deserves to know."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

By now you guys might know what they are up to, no? 🤫🩷

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[yexthiccxa]

The Angel With Horns Pt. 1

summary: you accept a teaching position at jujutsu high where you get to work with your childhood crush, suguru geto. unfortunately, that means you'll also have to work with your childhood nemesis, satoru gojo. are you going to rekindle new flames or potentially make new ones?

wordcount: 7.3k 🙃 (this is pt. 1 and it's four chapters long)

c/w: gojo/fem!reader, geto/fem!reader, gojo/oc, geto/oc, modern!au, teacher!au, smut, fluff & smut, some plot, plot what plot, flashbacks, timeskip, asshole!gojo, flirty!gojo, cocky!gojo, soft!geto, cousin!shoko, mutual pining, teasing, flirting, playful banter, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, sensual tension, sexual tension, pet names (angel), dry humping, fingering, oral, fantasizing, multiple orgasms, inappropriate use of cursed energy, inappropriate use of cursed techniques

a/n: eeeep. this is my first fanfic so feedback is welcome 🥺it’s a first person pov where the unnamed oc is meant to be the reader! Currently working on Part 2!

edit: just posted this part on ao3 if you'd rather read it there!

✦✧✸✧✦ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ✦✧✸✧✦

Chapter 1: Reunited

It’s clear as day but my mind is fuzzy. There are thousands of thoughts surging through me, but all I can focus on is the pleasure filling my body. For as long as I’ve known him, I’ve always wondered if this day would ever come. My hips are pinned against his counter. Arms stretching wide while my fingers grip his sink. My neck rolls back as the rays of light blind me from his window. 

In my head, I’ve spent countless hours wondering how it feels to have his body pressed against mine. Or how his breath hovers on my neck as he pulls me closer. His scent is undeniably sweet, but the way he handles me tells me that he’s everything but that.

“I always thought you were a good girl,” he growls in my ear, kissing his way down to my neck like it was never his to claim. “I never expected you to prove me wrong.”

I imagined how his kisses would consume me, how his touch would paralyze me, and how his moans would ignite me. But in all these years, I never imagined this entire fantasy would be with someone else instead.

✦✧✸✧✦

TWO WEEKS AGO

The clouds begin to subside as I walk through the familiar gates of Jujutsu High. The droplets of rain fade away and a strange mix of emotions hit my core. Today marks the beginning of my journey as a teacher here, but I can't stop myself from feeling a pang of anxiety. Amid the unease, there’s still a sense of comfort in returning to a place I once called home.

My footsteps echo softly on the hallway tiles as I make my way to room 3-A for orientation. The memories of my time as a student creep into my thoughts. It’s changed in many ways, but I find solace in knowing that there are still a few people here that I can lean on.

When I moved back to Tokyo and got the teaching position, Shoko mentioned that Suguru taught here as well. Memories of him invaded my thoughts. We were practically inseparable during our high school years, largely due to my close bond with Shoko. Wherever she was, I was sure to follow—our Ieiri blood may tell us we’re cousins, but I always thought of her as my sister. Her friends were always fun to be around. However, they constantly got into situations that always put me on edge. Shoko has always been such a free spirit, and while I adore her, I know her comfort zone far surpasses my own. Despite my lack of participation in their wild adventures, I surprisingly never felt left out or lonely.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? Finding curses in abandoned hospitals sounds way cooler than studying curses… in a book,” I muttered to Suguru as I gestured to my pile of textbooks.

“How many times do we have to go over this? I’d rather practice my curse techniques here instead.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and lowered his face towards mine—his breath tickling my ear.

“Plus, taking care of you is a hell of a lot better than taking care of everyone else,” he chuckled.

“Who said you needed to take care of me?” I protested. He remained close, and I felt his mouth curve.

“I never said I needed to. I want to take care of you,” he whispered. A secret for only my ears to hear.

Throughout the years, I grew to love his playful laughter. It was soft, tinged with warmth and sincerity—though it always seemed to trail his jokes that slightly missed the mark. And his touch, though never sensual, always felt protective—like a wolf looking after its pack. The more I learned how sweet Suguru was, the deeper I fell in love. For years my guarded soul harbored this secret, and even if the world was ending, I swore to myself that I would never tell a soul. The "what ifs" often danced through my thoughts, but ignorant bliss always outweighed the risk of potential heartbreak.

My thoughts come to a halt as I turn a corner, and suddenly, I'm face-to-face with a towering presence. My breath catches, and my eyes instinctively trail up the contours of his strong frame. The world around me blurs for a moment, and my heart quickens. But before I can fully process the shock, a familiar voice calls out to me.

"Hey, there’s my girl! Did you realize the world wasn’t as great without me?" Suguru teases, his voice bringing back years of memories.

"Suguru!" I exclaim, a surge of excitement makes me toss my arms around him. My words tumble out eagerly, "If I was your girl, I probably would’ve never left." I laugh, though my heart races as curiosity causes his brow to rise. “I’m just kidding. Everything was great, but I’m glad to be back though." It may not have been the best save, but it’ll work for now.

My arms tighten ever so slightly, and I’m compelled to study him. His shoulders are still broad, yet somehow, they seem larger than I remember. His hair has grown longer, though he still keeps it partially tied. The chiseled contours of his jaw feel like steel against my skin, but his arms around waist are gentle and comforting. I notice that the morning gloom has officially cleared, because his beauty is bathed in sunlight. As we break away from our hug, his dark eyes meet mine with recognition and warmth, as if our time apart has only deepened our connection.

"Well, I’m glad it was good. I’ve missed you." he rumbles, his voice resonating like a soothing melody.

"Likewise," I reply with a warm grin, feeling a rush of nostalgia. "Will you be at orientation today?"

He explains that he has to help Yaga with some setup throughout the morning. I try not to let my smile drop, but he's quick to notice. Of course he notices, it's Suguru. Before I can even process my thoughts, he adds, "I have the same lunch break as everyone else though, let's catch up then? We can meet in the courtyard."

A surge of excitement washes over me, and I nod eagerly. "Sounds perfect," I reply. Feeling a newfound sense of confidence, I continue on my way to the orientation room. 

“I’ve missed you." his voice echoes through my mind. For a moment, I can't help but wonder, was he thinking about me the whole time I was gone? Why did he call me his girl? Does that mean he had feelings for me? No—stop, that can’t be. If he had feelings for me, he would've said something, right? But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

My stomach begins to flutter as a seed of hope is planted into my heart. The slightest possibility of Suguru's interest sends me to the moon. I know I’m not the same girl I was when we last saw each other. So maybe, just maybe, this is a sign.

As I head towards the room, my steps feel lighter than they've been in a long time. For once in my life, I can finally hope for something more. I finally believe that I…my heart sinks as I reach the door. 

Blocking my path is a figure I desperately hoped to avoid—the infamous Satoru Gojo.

Chapter 2: Repulsive

Much like Suguru, Satoru’s build overpowers me. His arms rest on the edge of the doorframe and I can see the contours of his bicep peek through his shirt. I take in a sharp inhale and reluctantly step forward. Satoru will not, I repeat, not get the better of me today. I hesitate for a moment, locking my eyes with his.

He peeks out from the edge of his sunglasses, and the corners of his lips begin to curl. I watch as pieces of his platinum hair barely brush the top of his rims, while others just fall short of his eyes. It’s been years, but those striking pools of blue remain etched in my memory. Swirls of azure, navy and cobalt fill my vision, but I stop myself before my gaze begins to linger.

I attempt to slip past him but find myself with no clear escape. As I contemplate my next move, I mutter a greeting through gritted teeth, "Satoru."

His smirk grows into the devilish grin that haunted my past. "Hey there, Angel,” he purrs. “No hello? Or how have you been?" His tone takes on a playful note, laced with a hint of something else—something I can't quite decipher.

I try my best to let the moment pass, but I’ve let this go on for far too long. I’m done ignoring his comments. “You know I have a real name right?” I bite back.

“But why switch it up now? You’ve always been my little angel,” he teases mockingly. 

“And you’ve always been a pain in my ass,” I reply, my stare unwavering.

“She fights back,” his brow rises in shock. “I like this new version of you. Keep it up.” His grip on the doorframe loosens and he turns to make his way into the room. 

I let out a deep sigh, feeling the tension of my grip escape through my fingers. As I regain focus, I notice Satoru has turned back, his face mere inches from my ear. His voice is smooth, like silk across my skin as he whispers, “I can be a pain in a lot of other places, but I promise it’ll feel good.” 

My eyes widen as my pupils darken. My mouth runs dry as he chuckles his way to the edge of the room.

Memories of my high school days with Satoru flood back into my mind. His words cut through me, but in a way more akin to pleasure than pain. A mix of emotions overwhelm me, but I ultimately scowl at the sight of him. While Shoko and Suguru have helped me blossom, Satoru has always been the thorn in my side.

“Come on Suguru, are you really going to stay with her again?” Satoru asked.

“It’s okay, just go without me. I’ll go with you next time,” Suguru replies. His arm raises to scratch the back of his head.

This is the last festival of the season; there won't be another chance. “Please just go. I’ll be fi—,” I uttered.

“Well, enjoy your time with the little angel,” Satoru calls out as he continues walking away.

He makes his way out of our view, and I turn to Suguru, “Why do you even call him your best friend? He’s kind of a dick.”

Suguru laughs. “When you go through some of the stuff that we have, you’ll see that there’s a bond that goes deeper than blood. He’s a bit rough around the edges, but it’s not an excuse. Don’t worry. I can talk to him.”

I can’t stop myself from smiling with adoration.

I quickly find an empty seat in the orientation room, my mind still buzzing. The comfort and familiarity of the school are now tainted by the presence of someone I had hoped to forget. It was stupid of me to think Suguru and Satoru would drift apart after all these years. As I gather up my resolve to remain close with Suguru, I accept that their connection means my path with Satoru will cross more often than I would like.

✦✧✸✧✦

A full morning of orientation reduces my brain to mush. The anticipation builds and all I can pay attention to is the clock ticking away. Yaga drones on about teamwork, collaboration, and trust – unsurprising, considering his history mentoring Suguru and Satoru. If he survived that, I’m sure being the principal is a piece of cake.

As the clock finally strikes noon, I gather my belongings and head for the door.

“Ms. Ieiri—one moment please,” Yaga calls to me, stopping in my tracks. He assembles the group of new hires and hands each one a folded letter. “This is for the afternoon sessions. On this sheet you’ll find…”

His words trail off and I find myself glancing at the clock again, hoping that Suguru hasn’t been waiting too long. Once we’re dismissed, I rush towards the courtyard.

While my legs carry me on autopilot through the halls, I take a moment to examine the letter. The paper feels coarse, the creases are weighted with importance, yet the ink is delicately placed. The overwhelming amount of information makes it clear that I'll have to review it once lunch is over. I scan the letter to find main items scheduled for the afternoon:

1pm: Mentor Session (Room 2-C)

2pm: Lesson Planning (Room 1-B)

3pm: Team Review (Room 1-B)

Seems simple enough. I approach the stairs leading to the courtyard, when my eyes catch the small section at the end of the letter:

Mentor Assignment: …

As I hurry, I fail to notice the uneven step at the halfway mark. My foot catches the edge and suddenly, I’m airborne. I feel the letter escape my fingertips. My heart leaps into my throat and the world starts to blur.

I reach for the railing, but my grasp barely holds. In the following moments, I find myself colliding with a figure. His hold is strong, bringing me comfort. I feel his fingers slowly cup my arms—they’re soft, tender, holding me with care. 

“Easy there,” he rumbles. “I got you,” his voice is low and radiates through my core. Suguru’s eyes lock onto mine and I feel the heat beginning to smolder. “I got you.” His words bounce through my head.

“Suguru. Sorry… I—” The words are impossible to make out.

“Don’t apologize,” Suguru smiles. “I like having you in my arms.” He adds a playful wink sending butterflies through my chest.

I hold his gaze and my body melts into his. Suguru and I have been close for years, but this time, it feels altered, deeper. It feels like the intensity of our connection is seeking something beyond friendship. We’re inches from each other and I wonder if he can hear my thoughts or feel my heart beat out of my chest. Time slows as I marvel at his smile. I let my mind wander just for a moment…

Suguru lowers, barely touching his lips against mine. He starts soft, planting kisses down my neck as he caresses my cheek. His touch trails to the rest of my body and delight surges within me. It's gentle, but I crave more. He bites my lip before slowly letting his tongue make his way inside my mouth.

Passion builds within me as one hand grips my hair and the other grabs my waist. When his fingers gently graze the small of my back, I writhe with pleasure, hoping he can’t feel the squeeze between my thighs. His taste is intoxicating—sending me into a fever that I can’t seem to break. 

I close my eyes and let his mouth take me.

“I’ve been waiting for you…” he breaks away to tell me. His voice is on the brink of losing control. “...for a very long ti—”

“Hello? Are you okay?” Suguru asks. My focus immediately returns. “I’ve been waiting for you, so I was heading back inside to make sure you were doing alright.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Yaga needed to give us this letter and—oh fuck. My letter.” 

He senses my worry and swoops me up in one solid motion, but I feel too weak to stand.

I turn to see that my letter has found its way in a puddle pooling at the edge of the steps. I rush down to grab it, but it’s already too late. While I can make out certain areas, the majority of it has smeared away. I bring my gaze towards bottom in hopes of making out some of the letters:

M..nt…. ….gnment: S…..u G…o

I pause—Suguru Geto. A knot hits my stomach and I’m waiting to identify whether this feeling is anxiety or joy.

I look up from the letter expectantly. “Suguru, my mentor… is this right?” I ask.

“Yeah, it is! It’s nice being paired with someone you know. It’ll be just like old times.” His words are the only confirmation I need.

✦✧✸✧✦

Although the years have passed, it feels like Suguru and I have never skipped a beat. I miss the way he talks, the way he laughs, the way a strand of hair always manages to fall even when it’s tied. I could spend hours looking into his eyes and hearing all of his adventures and how he’s mastered his curse techniques. 

The minutes go on and the end of our lunch hour approaches. Suguru frowns as he glances at his watch, and offers an apologetic smile. "I have to head out a bit early. Yaga needs some help before the mentor sessions start," he explains.

I nod understandingly, though I can't help but feel disappointed. "No problem, I’ll see you in a bit?"

He grins, those familiar eyes twinkling with warmth. "Definitely, I’ll see you later!" He gives me a hug and we part ways.

With a sway in my step, I find myself standing before the door of 2-C—but it’s locked. I scan the hallway to see if anyone can help, but there’s no one in sight. I grab my phone to text Suguru for help, but fate has other plans.

Before I can send the message, a familiar presence creeps up behind me. The weight of his aura envelops me. His body feels warm, yet somehow my blood runs cold. With a key in hand, he moves to unlock the door.

A gasp escapes my lips, and I feel the tension build around us. My heart races as I hear a voice, a soft whisper that ignites my soul.

"Hey there, angel," the voice purrs. "Were you looking for me?"

I let out a deep breath to release the fury that boiled inside of me. “As a matter of fact, no. I wasn’t looking for you… Satoru.”

Chapter 3: Reinforcements

It takes me a second, but it finally registers. The letter didn’t actually say Suguru Geto. It was supposed to say Satoru Gojo. Suguru’s voice rings though my head:

“Suguru, my mentor… is this right?” I try to recall. I guess I didn’t explicitly mention a name.

“Yeah, it is!” Damn it, why didn’t I say his name?

“It’s nice being paired with someone you know.” My body feels heavy as my soul fills with dread.

“It’ll be just like old times.” The world begins to spin around me.

I walk through the door without looking at Satoru and head straight for the windows on the other side of the room. The room itself is quite small, just large enough to fit a blackboard, a full teacher’s desk, and three smaller desks for the students. There’s a bit of extra room to spare, but none of it is enough to keep me away from Satoru.

In the reflection of the window, Satoru props himself against the larger desk, his long arms draped behind him. His smirk tells me he's completely at ease, as if he enjoys torturing me this way. “Not who you were expecting?”

I hold my response and continue staring out the window. I suspect he can read my discomfort.

His footsteps are quiet, but I feel them reverberate behind me. The air from the window feels cool, but it fades when his body radiates against mine. He leans down, bringing his hands around my sides. As he places them on the window sill, I can feel his face inch closer to mine. He’s too close for comfort but I can’t bring myself to push him away.

“With a bit more time, angel, you’ll see that I’m full of surprises.” I can feel the rumble in his throat as he speaks. “That is…if you’re willing to find out.”

My face turns hot and my thighs tighten. I may hate Satoru, but there’s something about his charm that feels irresistible. After years of dealing with him, I thought I’d get used to it. But this doesn’t feel like the same Satoru I used to know.

His arms are still placed on either side of me, but I swat him away, “Don’t you have better things to do than to tease me?” My brow rises. “Maybe… actually mentoring me?”

He lifts his arms in defense, “Hey angel, sorry if I’m coming on a little strong. I’m just having some fun.” He nudges my arm, and the force leaves me unsteady. “For old times’ sake.”

I roll my eyes and take a seat at one of the smaller desks.

“Plus, I’m not big on mentoring,” he adds. “Yaga has me doing this because I owe him for saving my ass on the last mission. Luckily he assigned me to you, and we both know you’re more than capable of doing this job without my help. It’s always been like that.”

“Oh how sweet. Is this your way of complimenting me?” I tease. He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t going to give in that easily.

“What do you mean? I always give you compliments.”

“Calling me angel doesn’t count,” I sneer.

“Would you like me to call you princess instead?” He curled into a self-assured smile.

I blush, trying to bite back a chuckle. I lied, this is the same old Satoru. “So are you going to keep making up names, or are you actually going to teach me something?”

He brings himself close, his face stopping just short of mine. “I can teach you a lot of things, angel.”

I let out a sigh, “I’m serious, Satoru.”

“Fine, if you insist.” My curiosity is piqued as he props himself up and heads for the blackboard. 

“Lesson number one: If you ever want me, don’t want me,” he smirked.

I drop my shoulders and let out a sigh, but he continues.

“I’m serious! Lesson number two: If you ever need me…”

I finish his sentence, “Don’t need you?” His smile confirms my thoughts. “What’s number 3, Gojo-senpai?” My eyes plead as I pout in an attempt to mock him.

He seems uneasy. “Don’t do that,” he quickly snaps back, and I straighten up. “And now, lesson number three, the most important one: If you ever need my help, learn how to help yourself first.”

With a hint of sarcasm, I reply, “Wow, what a wonderful lesson. I’ve learned so much.” I gather my belongings and prepare to leave. “I think I'll just ask Yaga to assign me to someone else.”

He steps closer, blocking my path before I can fully rise from my seat. "No, wait. Don't do that,” he implores, his gaze earnest. “Can you stick it out for a little while? Just until this mentorship period ends. I need to get through these two weeks so Yaga won't make me do this again next year.”

I force my way up and scoff in his face, “Why on earth would I do that? What the hell have you done in these last few hours or even the last ten years that would make me put in a good word for you?” My volume increases. “You constantly tease me, you’ve never helped me, and—”

“I can hook you up with Suguru,” he murmurs.

“Excuse me?” My voice remains elevated from the anger.

“I can hook you up with Suguru,” he repeats firmly.

“Oh,” I pause as my voice settles. “Why would you do that?”

“For someone so smart, you ask the silliest things. It’s obvious you like him, angel.” 

My cheeks heat, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his penetrating gaze.

“It’s been obvious…for years—at least to me,” his voice softens. "And I promise, if you put in a good word for me, I'll help you with Suguru. No tricks, no games. Do we have a deal?" He extends his hand, waiting for my response.

This deal seems too good to be true. I try to figure out what the catch is, but nothing comes to mind. Unlike before, his gaze feels genuine and his smile seems sincere. I take a deep breath, preparing for a leap of faith. For the first time in my life, I guess I’m going to have to trust Satoru.

I reach for his hand, allowing a confident smile to grace my lips. “Deal.”

✦✧✸✧✦

Although this is not how I pictured my first couple of weeks back in Tokyo, this alliance isn’t as terrible as I thought. At the end of our work days, Satoru and I hang back in Room 2-C for our “mentoring” sessions. We spend 1% of the sessions on actual work, and the other 99% on dating. I tell him that it’s been a while since I’ve dated, and Satoru jumps at the opportunity to refresh me on the art of flirting.

 "Alright angel—you’ve known Suguru for a while, but I’m guessing like you only ever interact with him as a friend. Try starting…” he picks up his hand to graze the side of my arm, fingers lightly dragging towards my wrist.  “...with light touches. Make sure you maintain eye contact and smile genuinely." His voice is velvet and slow.

A shiver runs through me, and my mouth goes dry. I clear my throat. "Light touches, like this?" I laugh hesitantly. I try to mimic his advice, but it’s nowhere near as gentle as his.

Satoru chuckles. "Close, but you’re too tense. Just relax a little bit."

I soften my touch and continue to brush my fingers up his arm. As I slowly pull him towards me, our eyes lock and I’m immediately mesmerized. There’s a flutter in my core and it turns into desire. There’s an ache between my thighs, and moisture begins to form.

“That’s it,” he purrs as he leans towards me. “Just like that.” The pull of his voice is a magnet that continues to bring me closer. My heart races while the quickness in my breath trails slowly behind.

I close my eyes and let my cravings take control.

Satoru rests his thumb on the edge of my lip while the rest curl under my chin. He tilts my head and slowly whispers, “And that is exactly what you should do…” His voice perks back up to his normal tone. “...when you’re flirting with Suguru,” he smiles.

I shoot my eyes open and straighten up. What the hell was I thinking? Was I seriously trying to kiss Satoru? I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Wait…no, stop that. Something must be wrong, my wires are completely crossed. I shake it off to rid myself of the residual shame.

Shoko braided my hair like she’s done a million times before. “Hey, who do you think is cuter, Suguru or Satoru?” she posed out of curiosity.

“Hmm, that’s so hard. You know they're both hot.” I laughed. “If we’re going purely off of looks, probably Satoru. Sometimes I hate him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t cute. I think it’s the eyes.” 

“Yeah,” she replies with a hint of dejection in her voice. “I think so too.” I knew what was coming, but I could tell she had trouble getting it out. “Would you be mad if I asked him out?”

I pulled away for just a moment, “Oh my god, go ahead! Don’t worry about me. Suguru is still cute, plus he’s way nicer to me anyways.”

She paused for a moment, then threw her arms into a hug, “You’re the best.”

I smiled back and returned her embrace. “Okay, now finish doing my hair.”

✦✧✸✧✦

During these last two weeks the only times I see Suguru are during our lunch breaks. His schedule is hectic, but I can see that he makes the time for me—even though I know he doesn’t have any. I use these moments to practice some of the things I’ve learned from Satoru. Light touch, eye contact, genuine smiles.

I’ve touched Suguru’s arm, stared into his eyes, and laughed at his jokes many times before, but it was never like this. This time, all of my actions are bold, assertive, and confident. It’s no surprise that Satoru is a master of charm, but I didn’t expect him to be a decent teacher as well. Come Monday, he’ll be happy to know that Yaga will get glowing reviews for his mentorship.

For today’s lunch, Suguru and I are sitting on the courtyard steps, inches away from where he caught me just two weeks before. He has a look on his face that I haven’t seen before. I can tell something is on his mind by the way his brow furrows and his smile drops.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask.

“I was—” he pauses, then retracts. “Nevermind, it’s nothing.”

“Come on, Suguru. You can tell me,” I place my hand on top of his.

He smiles, and I can tell my assurance has calmed him down. “I just found out that I’m leaving for a mission next week, and I won’t be back for a few days.”

“Oh,” I reply, a pang of disappointment lingers in my tone.

“I was wondering…” he starts. “Did you maybe want to hang out or something before I leave?” A nervous grin crosses his face before he adds, “Like outside of work?”

I perk up at his proposal. “Of course! I would love that. When were you thinking?”

“I know it’s last minute, but maybe… tomorrow night? It’s okay if you’re bu—”

Cut him off before he has the chance to ramble. I reply with, “I would love to.”

Our lunch continues and the conversation shifts between current events, life updates and playful banter. I learn that Suguru still prefers staying in over going out, he’s got a new obsession with cooking, and his hair care routine is a lot more involved than I thought. As he speaks, I can’t help but admire him and the person he’s become.

When we prepare to part ways, Suguru confirms our plans for the weekend, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow? Meet at my place around 7?” Grinning as he inputs his address into my phone.

“I’ll see you there,” I return a smile and hug him before I leave. The feeling of his touch is perfect.

Chapter 4: Reckless

The workday ends and I make my way to the usual room for my last mentoring session with Satoru. As I walk in, he notices the stupid grin plastered on my face. “You look a little chipper today, angel. What’s up? Excited that you’re no longer forced to spend with me?”

“Well, yes,” I laugh. “But also… Suguru asked me to hang out tomorrow tonight. I’m going to meet him at his place,” I fight to contain my excitement.

Satoru’s brow lifts with intrigue, “If you wanted an invite to come over, you could’ve just asked me.”

Confusion clouds my brain. “Excuse me?” I ask.

“He didn’t tell you we were roommates?”

The clouds dissipate when I realize what’s going on. “No he didn’t. I guess it makes sense though.” The thought of Satoru joining in on our date fills me with unease. “You won’t be there right?” I clarify.

“You can relax, I’m meeting up with someone too. No need to worry about me barging in on whatever “activities” you two plan on doing,” air quoting as he takes a seat at the desk in front.

“Satoru, stop. You don’t even know if that’s gonna happen,” I argue.

“You’ve spent ten years drooling over this man, and you finally get a chance to spend some time with him in his apartment…alone.” he starts. “I don’t know about you, angel, but that sounds like a recipe for sex to me.” He leans back towards the blackboard and places his arms behind his head. A smug look sweeps his face.

“Well, yeah I guess… but it’s more so…” I hesitate, struggling to find the words to say. The thought of Suguru and I being intimate has always crossed my mind, but I can't believe it might actually happen.

“Oh I get it… There’s no reason to be nervous. Sex is sex,” he interjects. “Plus, if he’s the one who initiated the date, I’m sure he’ll enjoy whatever happens, sex or no sex.”

He makes a good point, but I still feel unsure. Before I have the chance to stop myself, I blurt out, “Do you know what he’s into…like when it comes to sex? Do guys even talk about that stuff to each other?” The regret immediately slips through my lips.

Satoru gets up from his seat and brings his hands to my shoulders—a gesture of comfort I’ve never seen from him before. “He’s my best friend, I know everything about him,” he assures me. “Trust me, you’ll be fine.”

“Can you just tell me? Please?” I playfully beg, placing my hands on top of his.

Something about my question changes his demeanor, like he’s been waiting for it all along. The air shifts and suddenly I feel a rush of heat. Satoru drops one of his hands while the other drags across my chest. He begins to circle me, walking slowly, like a lion with its prey. In a situation like this, his towering presence would normally intimidate me, but something this feels different. I'm not feeling fear; instead I feel secure, fascinated, and curious about what lies ahead.

He makes his way behind me and I can feel him lower his head towards mine. “I can tell you…” he whispers, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer. “But do you want me to show you instead?” His words send shivers to my spine. 

He retrieves something from his pocket and places it into my hand. It’s a long piece of fabric, similar to the one he uses to wrap his eyes. My mind spins—stuck between the logic in my head and the cravings of my body. I hesitate for a moment, but the weight of my desire defeats me. “Yes. Please,” I say softly, as I wrap the cloth around my eyes.

“Perfect.” He ties the back securely, and I feel his touch tilt my head toward him.

I let out a breath and part my lips. Our lips touch, locking just for a moment before he briefly pulls away.

“I think for your benefit, and definitely mine, I’m going to keep my limitless on. That way it’s purely informational and you won’t feel a thing,” he says.

And just like that, an invisible barrier forms between us. While his touch is subdued, I still feel the heat hovering between us. The closer I try to get to him, the more I feel his body vibrate against mine—like magnets trying to repel. Damn it, Satoru. He might not feel a thing, but I… I still feel everything.

In my mind, I do my best to recall every part of Suguru from memory. I try seeing his face and emulating his touch. As the pieces of Suguru form, a clear image of him floods my brain.

I can feel his touch as Satoru moves up from my waist and beneath the hem of my shirt. He continues up to cup my breast and I can sense his kisses on my neck. They’re soft and muted, but the sensation still gives me chills. His breath is hot as his mouth works his way up to nibble my ear. I can feel his throat rumble when Satoru continues his lesson, “Do you want to know what Suguru is like?”

I nod. In my mind, Suguru’s dark eyes ease their way shut as he takes in my scent. His strands of hair brush against my shoulder as he continues to plant kisses down my neck.  

“Suguru is a lover—always takes care of his women,” Satoru purrs as he rubs his thumb over my breast. The friction against my nipple sends a jolt of euphoria through my chest. “Do you want to see how he’ll take care of you?” he asks.

My body tenses and I feel a rush of liquid between my thighs. I roll my head back onto his shoulder and hum with pleasure. My breath is labored, I can barely speak. “Show me,” I manage to let out.

“Well to start, he’d make sure your lips never go hungry.” Satoru slowly turns me around while his kisses move to my lips. His lips are soft, smooth as he takes me in.

The intensity rises as his kisses become needy. Using his hands to grip my ass, he leans me on the edge of the desk behind me. Shock fills my body and I can feel his tongue finding its way inside my mouth. Waves of his cursed energy flow through me. It’s powerful—commanding my fingers to lock into his hair. I pull him closer, imagining Suguru's weight crashing into me.

As the ache between my legs intensifies I ask, “What else would he do?”

“He’d work his way up your leg… past your skirt…” he slowly whispers. “And find your clit. Just to make sure she’s happy too.” His fingers travel to my panties, stopping just above my slit. He uses thumb to rub the cloth, and the trembles of his limitless cause me to moan. I roll back and forth, grinding against his hand, desperate for more. My moans are endless and slowly amplify every time the pressure increases.

When he realizes I’m enjoying myself, he runs his fingers along the edge of my panties. I whimper, wondering when he can put an end to this torture. I crave him so badly, I crave the feeling of him inside me—anything to help me find release. He finally gives in and slides my underwear to the side. As his touch grazes against my folds, I picture how good it would feel to have Suguru’s large hands cupping my center.

Satoru picks up on my thoughts and continues feeding my fantasy, “While he teases your pussy, Suguru would tell you that you’re already soaking wet…” The thought has me dripping more liquid onto his fingers. I feel his mouth curl into a smile and he whispers, “...but we’re only getting started.”

His fingers thrust inside me and I can feel the magnitude of his hands as my walls tighten around him. The thrill from his fingers barreling into me stun every inch of my body. I can feel my thighs clenching on the brink of release. His fingers find the sensitive spot within my walls and his mouth claims every spot on my body. His kisses become ravenous, like he can’t get enough. The more he devours me, the more he leaves me breathless.

I can hear him groan in delight and I notice the way his bulge presses against me through his pants. The desperation only makes him harder.

As the intensity grows, I cry for more. “Oh Suguru, just like that.”

“Do you like that, angel?” His pace remains steady as the sensation of cursed energy collects into his fingers. They continue to push against the insides of my center until I can’t take it anymore. The rhythmic motion leaves me breathless and I feel my body racing to its peak.

“Ugh, Suguru, fuck…that feels—”

“Does he make you feel good?” His voice feels heavy, like a low growl.

“Y—, ugh, ye—” I can’t form words through the pounding of his hand. He’s rapidly sending me to the edge and I’m ready to fall. “Suguru, you’re going to make me come.”

“Yes, angel.” Satoru says, before planting his lips onto mine. “Come for him.” 

Those words are enough to break me. The orgasm flows through my body and I feel myself beat around his fingers. His pace slows, but the sensual touch only brings more gratification. The thought of Suguru sending me into ecstasy leaves my body light, and my mind clear. The waves slowly subside and I feel myself resurrect. 

My hands head for the wrap on my eyes, but I hear Satoru whisper, “We’re not done yet, angel.”

I follow his lead and let the rumble of his voice bring me back into my dreams.

“Did you think Suguru would stop there?” he teases. “If there’s anyone he’d take special care of, it would be you.”

I feel his fingers slide out of me and I hear him lick the tips. “You taste so good.”

The words release a flutter in my core. I’m immediately enraptured and can’t help but crave more.

“Suguru would love this,” he starts. “Would you let him taste you too?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

I imagine Suguru’s strength as his hands cup my waist and he lifts me up on the desk. When I lean back, I feel him lift my shirt, exposing my breasts. “You’re so god damn beautiful.” His tongue licks my nipple before fully taking it into his mouth, giving it a playful tug.

“Please, I want you to taste me,” I plead. Liquid gushes out of me, giving him a good dose to start.

“As you wish, angel.” He bends down to hover his mouth over my center. I feel him linger before he adds, “Do you know what else Suguru likes to do?”

“Tell me,” I whisper.

“He likes making sure your pussy never goes dry,” he growls, letting his mouth devour my clit. The vibrations from his limitless amplify the sensation, and I’m on the verge of losing control. 

My body goes numb as his words echo through my head. He likes making sure your pussy never goes dry. I let out a moan, but it feels more like a cry. I completely unravel, feeling the tides of my orgasm come back to shore.

“Oh my god, Suguru. That feels so good. Don’t stop,” I cry.

As he continues to glide over me, I throw my head back and writhe in pleasure. His tongue goes up and down my center in a harmonious rhythm, and I’m so close to feeling ecstasy. His mouth on my lips may have felt needy, but his mouth on my pussy feels absolutely desperate. The ripples of his limitless accompany the motions and bring me to my limit. As he plants his hands on my thighs, I immediately crumble.

I melt into my orgasm as my legs tense up around him, squeezing him towards me. I picture Suguru’s hands gripping my thighs while he moans back in delight. My breath is quick, my heartbeat is unsteady. The muscles inside me contract and pulsate all over his tongue. He has me slick and he licks up every bit of the liquid that trickled from me.

“And that, my little angel… is a little taste of what you can expect from Suguru Geto,” Satoru chuckles.

I relax my legs and I feel one last kiss grace my center. I lay for a moment, feeling both lifeless, yet satiated. The thought of Suguru between my thighs still lingers in my mind.

“That was amazing, Suguru,” I breathed quietly.

As I sit up, my head is in a fog. I feel my brain spin for a moment. What just happened? Did I just have a wet dream about Suguru? Wait, no. Was it Satoru? It takes me a minute to recollect myself. Although I could see Suguru vividly in my mind, I remember that he wasn’t the person in the room. Anxiety surges throughout my body when I’m faced with the reality of what occurred.

I hear the door click, and rush to take off the wrap around my eyes. “Satoru, can we ta—”

To my dismay, there is no one else in the room. I see the blackboard behind me, the desk that seats me, three smaller desks in front of me, but Satoru is nowhere to be found.

Read Part 2 Here!