#we will be back to our usual programming soon

[broken-clover]

I loveeeeee caring about things that don't matter what the fuck do you mean there was an extended version of the opening to the janky veggietales spinoff flash cartoon that literally only got four episodes made in 2002 that was considered unfound lost media for 15+ goddamn years until someone found the downloaded audio file from before the show even released and what do you mean I was absurdly hyped learning every single one of those facts

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !! ❞

❝ WHEN YOUR EX HUSBAND FINDS OUT YOU'RE DATING AGAIN, HOW DO YOU END UP FUCKING HIM IN YOUR BED ?? ❞

✧ pairing: ex-husband!satoru gojo x f!reader

✧ summary: satoru gojo is the man everyone wants, except you -- well you married him and you wanted him, but when he pushed you away after you had your daughter, you had no choice but to divorce him. so what happens when he comes to pick up your daughter for his weekend, and he finds you ready for a date? and how is it you always end up under him?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, exes to lovers, modern au! (no curses), gojo is a CEO of a company, gojo has a daughter with you, divorced, some angst, switch! gojo, nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (near entryway), semi exhibitionism, sex (p in v), creampie, swearing,

✧ wc: 8,271

“You were supposed to be here at 6:00 PM,” 

Satoru Gojo stood in your doorway, as opposed to splashed on the covers of magazines and countless front page articles — you would think it would be business magazines, but you would only be partially correct — he made the covers of business, fashion, health, entertainment, and even a few women’s magazines. 

And what every single one had made apparent in their colorful print was that Satoru Gojo was anyone’s ideal man — the CEO of the wildly successful Six Eyes Corp, a philanthropist in his free time spent mentoring children and teenagers through establishing proper programs, and he was flawlessly beautiful — ocean blue eyes you could drown in, porcelain skin seemingly without a blemish or scar, and pretty lips that were a weapon when curled in a smirk. 

Just as they were now. 

“Well,” he smirks, leaning against your door frame, “I’m sure it’s 6:00 PM somewhere,” 

“Well, I’m not concerned with somewhere else since you daughter exists here, not elsewhere,” your words lacked their usual bite, only tinged with annoyance rather than cutting anger, “but good thing I told you to be here an hour and half earlier than I needed you,” 

Needed him as just as you did before you had divorced — just as you asked him to be. But he only grew more distant by the day — and soon he was already out the door when you had served him with divorce papers. 

And now, you can almost forget how it used to be — your eyes catch sight of the picture on your mantle of the two of you with your daughter, Satoru’s lips pressed to your cheeks as yours were pressed to your little angel — almost. 

He gapes at you as you walk inside, as he follows behind you, the click of the door closing overshadowed by the sound of his voice. 

“How could you lie to me, sweetheart? Thought we had a bond of trust,” you don’t have to look back at him to know he has a pout on his lips that would quickly melt into a grin if you conceded. 

“Bond of trust ended when you showed up two hours late to pick up our daughter,” and he grumbles, cheeks tinged with pink. 

“That was one time! I’m never that late. And it’s only on a Fridays when I have—“ 

“Meetings all day,” you finish with a sigh, “I know, Gojo, I know it’s not on purpose — but I know you’re always late on Fridays so I found a solution,” your lips curl, “anyway, our girl is napping still, so give her a bit before you wake her, but you can stay here until she does,” you’re shrugging off your bathrobe, littered with flecks of makeup, only to have a gorgeous black dress underneath. 

One that he very much hadn’t seen before — and he would know, he’s explored every centimeter very intimately of each one of your dresses, but this is new. His eyes skim down the exposed skin of your thighs — very new, but very familiar. 

He’s running fingers through his hair, not bothering to hide how his gaze rakes over his body, “Special occasion? Don’t tell me your birthday suddenly moved months, or I forgot our anniversary,” 

You scoff, as you pick out earrings from your jewelry box,  “Does an anniversary count when you’re divorced?” you can’t hide the hint of bitterness in your voice, and he’s stepping closer as you look in your vanity to put your earrings on, only to meet his gaze in the mirror, deep blue sucking you in as it always does. 

“But you’ll always be mine,” and you roll your eyes, expecting a cheeky grin, but find genuine longing in his expression, before it's hidden away behind a frown, “but you still haven’t told me where you’re going, sweetheart,” 

A sigh stuck in your throat, ignoring the use of your usual pet name that he had lost the rights when the ink dried on your divorce, as your teeth graze your bottom lip, “I have a date tonight,” 

He tilts his head, “A date?” and you can already hear it in his voice — ice creeping over usually still waters, “who’s the lucky guy? And do I get to meet him?” 

“And have you scare him off?” And he only grins in reply, hands slipping into his pockets. 

“If he’s intimidated by me, isn’t that more on him than me, sweetheart?” His footsteps only grow closer, as you turn to look at him, his hand on the wood of your vanity, nearly caging you in on side, “after all, he may be your date, but I’ll always be your husband, and the father of our daughter,” 

You didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss him or slap him — slapping him was self explanatory, but the want to kiss him was a lingering feeling, one that you couldn’t shed — no matter how much time passed. But that was the thing about Satoru Gojo — it was easy to fall in love with him, but even harder to fall out. 

And a part of you could never admit to yourself that you never did. 

No matter how hard you try.

“You haven’t been my husband for a year and half now, Gojo — a year legally now,” 

And he’s changing tactics, “You still haven’t answered my question, who are you going on a date with?” And you already can feel the beginning of a headache throbbing in your forehead, and you know why no one could say no to Satoru Gojo — because you’re sure he’s never understood it. 

“Why do you need to know?” And he's tilting his head, a small scoff parting his lips. 

“I need to know who you're potentially bringing home, don’t I?” and he’s far too close, and you don’t know why you’re not pulling away — his breath warming your skin, as he drags a finger down your cheek, “The man who might step foot in our home, might meet our daughter,” and his thumb brushes over your lips, “might kiss my wife—“ 

“Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he corrects you. 

You rub at your temples — yup, you definitely have a headache now. You brush past him, heading to the living room to pick up some of the mess, hoping your ex would somehow fall and hit his head on the doorframe and forget this conversation.

“And this dress?” Ah, no such luck, “did you buy it for the date?” 

“Do you keep a catalog of my wardrobe?” you scowl as you pick up the strewn about toys and things to collect into your daughter’s toy bin, and he’s bending down too to pick up your daughter’s things in his hundred thousand yen suit. 

“So you didn’t deny it,” and you sigh again, but grit your teeth all the same, his sharp words finely grating on your nerves. 

“This isn’t a business negotiation, you don’t win just because you use my words against me,” you stand up after picking up the last of the things, “yes it’s a new dress, and yes I bought it for the date since this is my first date in years, happy?” 

“Thrilled,” he says flatly, and you know it’s not the end of the discussion, “remember our first date?” 

And how could you forget? But you decide to humor him, if only for a break from the interrogation. 

“Which one? Because one was a date, and the other—“ 

He raises an eyebrow, “It was a date too, I asked you out—“ 

“You asked me to hang out—“ 

“And we kissed—“ 

“Only because I told you how I felt first—“ and he smirks again and you know you’ve dug yourself into a hole, cheeks burning at his stupidly smug face, “shut up,” 

“And what did you say again?” He slips the things you have in your hands into the toy box, his fingers brushing yours, and his touch is the same as you remember, even the barest brush was enough for your traitorous soul to yearn for more. 

“You know what I said,” his lips curl, the same smile he had given you all those years ago that made you fall for him in the first place, but his raise of his brow tells you he’s not going to let it go until you say it, “I told you that I liked you for a long time, and I was tired of waiting for you to make the first move. Because maybe by then it would be too late,” and his fingers brush against your cheek, featherlight — just as the bunches of butterflies that bloom in your stomach. 

“And you say that wasn’t a date,” and you scoff, biting back the small smile on your lips, “will any other first date compare to that?” 

“Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he corrects, and you know his brow is furrowed without having to look at him, “do you have to call me by my last name—“ 

“I do, because Satoru was my husband, and Gojo is my ex—“ 

“I’m still your husband—“ and you give a bitter chuckle. 

“In what world? We’re divorced, it’s over,“ 

“It doesn’t have to be,” 

“But it does. This isn’t me confessing to you on a movie night curled up on my twin bed. This is my ex-husband asking me to give him another chance far too late,” you slip past him, but he follows behind anyway, as you stand near the entryway to your home,  “it’s time to move on,” and you’re stepping from your bedroom and only reach the doorway when he speaks. 

“How can I move on when I never wanted to?” You still yourself in your tracks, fingers curling into a fist. 

Not this right now. Not now. “Gojo—“ you sigh. 

You’re so tired. You were hoping you wouldn’t have to have this conversation. You never had expected to have this conversation, not when you wanted to only marry one man your entire life was the one to break your heart. 

“It's almost two years too late for this conversation,” you willed your voice not to break — not when your heart was long broken by him, and you wouldn’t allow him to do it again, “you should have had it with me before I filed. When I asked you to spend your time with us, when I asked you to take time off, when I asked you to be present in our lives—“ 

“Sweetheart-“ and you snap. 

“Don’t call me that,” your quiet words hang in the silence, the wedding bells he heard in his head were nothing more than the sounds of bells drowning out the mourners screams, “don’t call me that when you don’t get to anymore,” 

“I’ll always be yours, sweetheart, a few papers don’t change that,” and he’s stepping towards you, but you’re rooted to your spot, and you want to say it’s stubbornness, but you know what it really is —weakness, because Satoru Gojo was your one and only weakness. And even now, walls raised and erected against him came tumbling down with one touch. 

Because he knew exactly where to touch and what to say. 

“Do you think any other man could please you the way I can? I know every place, every sound, every inch of you — inside and out,” he’s nearly against your back now, “are you going to let a stranger do that? Let them learn how to please you, but knowing your husband knows how to do it better,” 

“Ex-husband,” and he’s leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, “we shouldn’t—“ 

“And yet you’re letting me,” his nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, warm breath sending a shiver down to the tips of your toes, and his words sending a wave of need right to your core, “because you know it’s true,” his hands tentatively brush against your hips and when you don’t resist, he squeezes, drawing a gasp from you, lips curled in a smirk, “more sensitive than usual, Princess? Been too long?” 

“I swear to god—“ he’s cutting you off with a bruising kiss, a rubber band snapping back against your skin, and now it’s taut against you, ensnaring you in its grasp. And yet, his kiss is so sweet, affection dripping from the slide of lips to the caress of his fingers against your cheek, and it reminds you of just why you don’t want to let go. 

“You don’t have to swear yourself to me, but I’d appreciate it, Princess,” and his mouth reminds you of the reason you (and that you don’t). 

“Gojo—“ and he’s placing more kisses along your jaw now. 

“Shouldn’t you at least call me Satoru now that we’ve kissed?” 

“You’re impossible—“ 

“And yet I’m here,” his teeth nibbles at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, tongue flicking over the blooming love bite, “almost forgot how sweet you taste,” he’s humming, as he kisses along your shoulder before he toys with the strap of your dress, “almost,” his large palms slide down your body, skimming your bare thighs as he’s pressing you against the walls, “but your skin isn’t what I want to taste,” 

You gasp, “we can’t—“ but why were you letting him? Irritation overrode by lust, and he knew the spots to make you bend to him, his hands squeezing your hips, “fuck you,” you wonder if his touch are phantoms engraved against your skin and muscles, forced to repeat the same patterns again and again — and a hand slides back up to cup your cheek. 

“That’s what I’m trying to do, sweetheart,” his lips find yours again, his tongue dragging against the seam of your lips, before slipping inside. His hand is lifting your thigh around his waist, as his lips part from your own, eyes raking over your pretty, bitten red lips, “do you know how much I missed you?” 

“No, I don’t,” and his smile slips from his lips, as he cups your chin, “Satoru—“ 

“Even all the days I was gone, there wasn’t a second I didn’t think of you,” you waver a moment at the sadness rippling through his gaze, “I know I wasn’t there—“ his lips press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Why weren’t you?” 

And that’s when there’s a knock at the door that makes your heads snap over to stare at the door a good four or five feet from you, the shadow of feet visible through the crack at the bottom of the door, and you were sure it was your date. 

“Fuck,” you whsiper under your breath, “you have to go—“ your palms pressed flat against his chest, but Satoru doesn’t budge, “please, I have to get the—“ 

And his hand is slipping up and under your dress, hiking the material higher, “do you really want to go on your date like this, sweetheart?” His fingers graze your soaked panties, a gasp pulled from your lips, lithe fingers rubbing and pinching your clit through the thin fabric, “gonna go see him when you’re this wet?”

“Please—“ and his fingers snap the elastic of your underwear against your skin, drawing a squeal from your mouth, “fuck—“ 

“Any louder, Princess, and he might hear us,” he’s leaning down to press his forehead to yours, forcing your gaze to meet yours, “but maybe I should let him, let him know who’s the only one who can make you feel this good,” his words only make your cunt flutter, as if your body was in agreement, even if your mind was still in denial, “you’re much more honest down here, Princess, but you always were,”

Another knock as your attention is being tugged only for him to yank it back as his finger slips inside you. You’re burying your face in the crook of his neck to stifle your moans — his fingers were so much longer than yours, reaching places you could only have dreamed of — when you had dreamed of him. 

His finger squelches as he fucks you open, walls squeezing around him as your molten insides cling to his touch desperately. Small whines and pants are muffled against your hand as you clamp it over, your phone vibrating uselessly with your date’s messages inside your purse. 

“Please, Satoru let me—“ and he’s ripping your underwear, as he’s forcing your dress higher, “I have to tell him—“ 

“Tell him what?” His eyes are nearly glowing in the dim light of the fluorescents leaking in from the living room, “tell him you’d go on your date with him but you’re too busy being finger fucked by your husband?” And he’s sinking another finger into you, making your head loll back against the wall, “tell him that you’d let him fuck you in our bed, but you’re too busy letting me?” 

“Sa-toru—“ you’re biting back your whines, glancing at the door, but he’s forcing your gaze back to him, his thumb pressed against your chin, “just let me—“ 

And he’s turning you in front of the mirror near the entryway, forcing you to look at yourself — your lips kiss bitten and ruined, your dress hiked up and mussed, and underwear tugged down to your ankles. 

“Do you want him to see you like this?” His breath is hot in your ear, a soft murmur that makes your knees nearly buckle, “want him to see you how much of a mess I’ve made you?” His fingers sink into you again, a third finger with the other two. The lewd squelch of your cunt rings in your ears, your eyes catching sight of your own moans and pants in the mirror, your walls squeezing around them, “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, sweetheart, and now you can watch too,” he’s guiding your gaze back to watch yourself, watching him knuckle deep in your sweet cunt, “gonna make you watch your tight pussy break my fingers,” he spreads his fingers inside you, letting you watch your slice drip down his fingers and wrist and splatter on the floor.

And your head falls back against his shoulder — he’s thrusting into you faster, your walls working deeper and deeper into you — fingers curling against your molten insides, until he’s finding that one spot that has your lips falling open, “I’m so—” your voice is a broken whisper, and he’s pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Please—“ 

“Cum f’me baby,” his thumb rubs at your clit, and you do, walls clamping down as you cum, his fingers relentless as they fuck you through your orgasm, a wordless moan of his name on your lips. He’s holding you up as he does, your body buckling under the pleasure, blood roaring in your ears that slowly ebbs away, as his fingers slow, and you’re shuddering under his touch, “good girl,” and your walls flutter as he pulls out as if they want him to stay, and he’s tilting your gaze, “watch,” your eyes open reluctantly, a small moan on your lips as you watch him carefully each one of his fingers clean, pink tongue darting out to lick at the trails of your juices that had dripped down his palm and wrist, “still the sweetest thing I’ve had, princess,” 

And there’s another knock, as he clicks his tongue, “Doesn’t give up does he?” and he’s pressing a kiss to your neck, “must have really done a number on him and he’s willing to wait this long for you, huh?” he hums, nuzzling the hollow of your throat, “but I can relate. So, should I let him down for you?” 

Your eyes fly open, meeting his cheeky gaze with a glare, “Don’t you fucking dare,” 

“What? You still want to go out with him? Be my guest, but,” and he’s pulling at your ruined underwear until they rip under his touch, “can’t wear these, can you?” you gape at him as he pockets the ruined panties with a shit eating grin, “for later,” and you’re scoffing, and you hear a call of your name through the door. 

And you take a better look at yourself — completely disheveled and marked up along your neck from his kisses and nips, your skin shiny with a sheen of sweat, and your lips obviously bruised and bitten from his treatment. 

“Fuck,” you can’t go out like this — it looks as if you’d spent the morning before getting ravished, panic sets in as you hear his voice through the door. 

“Want me to send him on his way?” Satoru’s hands curl around your waist, “our angel’s still fast asleep, and that means we can spend some time together—“ 

“Fuck off,” you hiss, walking over to the door, “Atsuya, I’m sorry I can’t go out today. I’m not feeling well,” 

“Eh? Are you okay? Do you need anything?” And Satoru steps forward to speak but you cover his mouth with his hand. 

“No, I’m fine, but I have the flu and I’m still contagious, so I don’t want to get you—“ Satoru drags his tongue between your fingers — this fucker, “sick,” 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and take care of you?” Satoru’s hands are dragging over your sides, squeezing your far too sensitive hips. 

“Hear that?” Satoru’s whispering to you between the gaps of your fingers, “He wants to take care of you. Should you let him? Maybe he could fuck you better in the home we bought together and in the bed we shared,” 

“No, I’m fine, really, I-I—“ and Satoru’s sucking at your finger, tongue curling around the digit, and you grit your teeth, “I’m going to rest. I’ll text you later, I’m sorry—“ and you don’t get to hear the rest of what he says, as Satoru’s pulling your hand away, and finding your lips in another kiss. 

You hate how good this man is at kissing, his lips and touch must have the ability to leech sense from your brain, and leave lust in its place. 

“What’s wrong with you?” you mumble against his lips, as his lips burn a trail of kisses down your jaw, a smirk against your skin. 

“Nothing’s wrong with me, except that I love you,” he’s pouting again, “you think that guy could please you the way I could?” 

“No, but maybe he would actually be there,” you bite back and his kisses pause, smirk slipping into a frown. 

“I know I’ve made mistakes—“ 

You give a bitter chuckle, “Mistakes? You left us,” 

He opens and closes his mouth, “you’re right I did, and I’m sorry,” his words are slow, but so is the anger building inside you, “but I’m asking for a second chance, begging for one more chance—“ 

You finally turn to face him, and you can only hope the tears welling in your eyes weren’t noticeable, “You don’t get to beg, when I already did,” your voice finally breaks, as your clenched fist shakes, “where were you? After our daughter was born, you were gone. You kept saying you would make time for us, you would be there for us, but you just busier and busier, and the only time I’d see you were the nights you made it home to crawl into bed,” 

“I—“ 

“No, I’m tired, I’m tired of waiting and being upset, I’m so done—“ and he’s pulling you into his arms, and the familiarity of his grasp is nearly enough for your defenses to crumble, but you can’t, “Satoru” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I did wrong. I know I don’t deserve you or our baby, not after all I did,” he’s murmuring, “but it was never because of you or her,” 

Tears spill from your eyes, streaming down your cheeks, “I used to cry, thinking that not only that I wasn’t enough, but your daughter wasn’t enough either—“ 

“You weren’t the ones that wasn’t enough,” he cuts you off, “I am,” the last words come out a whisper, as he runs fingers through his hair, “I’m the one who wasn’t good enough,” 

You stare at him, “What do you mean?” 

He’s scrubbing a hand down his face, “I don’t know how to be a husband, much less a father. I didn’t think I even wanted to be either, until I met you,” his voice softens, “and then I wanted it all if it was with you,” 

“Satoru—“ and he’s shaking his head. 

“I thought I could handle it — but when I saw you two — the two most important people in my life — how much you were counting on me, how much you needed me to not fail — I threw myself into work,” he’s swallowing, “I thought if I could support you both, things would get better. But it only made things worse because I pushed myself away,” 

“Why?”

“Because I thought I’d mess it up — I don’t know how to be a father. I didn’t even know I wanted to be a husband until we got married,” and you swallow, “I thought I never would after watching my dad neglect and abuse me and my mom,” you knit your brow together, “and there were so many nights when you were sleeping, I got so frustrated with our angel. She wouldn’t sleep, she screamed for hours, and I just felt like I had failed her. And I would just fail you too,” he scrubbed a hand down his face, “so—“  

“So you ran away,” you finish, voice caught in your throat. 

He gives a curt nod, “And when you filed, I knew it was coming, but I thought you both would be better off. I thought even if I was miserable, it would be worth it to see you two happy—“ 

“Satoru, do you think I would be happy without my husband?” Your sigh stuck in your throat as your fingers find his cheek, featherlight, but he crumbles and melts against it, as if he was a statue made to wait for your touch, “you’re nothing like your father. I see you with Satomi, I see how much you love her — you dote on her, you know what she likes — she gets a cut and you’re panicking,” you chuckle as he huffs, a cute blush settling over his cheeks, “and you were a good husband, when you talked to me and didn’t run away,” 

“I know,” and the question unspoken hangs in the air, “can I be again? Your husband,” and your instinct is to pull him into your arms, where you wanted him to be, where you always wanted to be, but your instinct is tangled in fear, barbed wire dragging you down and digging into your skin. 

“I want you to be,” his eyes light up, hope flicking across his gaze like a comet tail, until it burns out with your next words, “but I’m scared,” you swallow, arms crossed, hoping if you physically hold yourself maybe you could hold yourself together, “I don’t want to get hurt again,” 

“I won’t, I promise,” he’s cupping your cheek again, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, “every night I only thought of you and Satomi — there’s no one else that matters,” he’s drawing closer again, it makes you want nothing more than his touch again — it had been too long — too long without him. 

And your lips find his again, it’s a chaste kiss at first, a breath shared a centimeter apart, as his eyes find yours, brow furrowed, “We have a lot to talk about,” you murmur, as your lips graze his again, and he’s chasing your lips, “but it’s going to take time,” God, you want to kiss his knowing pout away, as you drag a thumb down his lips, “a lot of making up to me and our angel,” He’s nodding obediently, a complete puppy under your touch, as he shivers as your fingers run through his hair before tugging, “are you ready for that?” 

“Yes, baby,” he’s biting his lip, fingers twitching wanting to touch you. 

Your lips curl, “Good boy.” 

“All that big talk and now look at you, Toru,” Satoru’s white knuckled fingers fisted at the sheets of your shared bed, as your own fingers teased the head of his leaking cock through his boxers, “such a mess for me,” 

You kneel at the foot of your bed, settled between his thighs, and though you were on your knees, you were the one who held the power. Fingers tracing the trigger right within your grasp, his cock twitching against your hand. 

“Please, sweetheart, fuck,” he’s hissing when your lips lean down to press a kiss to his clothes weeping slit, the wet heat of your mouth seeps through, making him twitch against your touch — a spark of need that burns against his skin and boils his blood underneath with need, “please, don’t tease me,” 

“Well that’s not fair,” you hum, as your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, snapping the elastic against your skin, sending a shiver up his body along with an ache that reaches his bones — and he wondered how he had let your grip on him grow this deep — and how he had ever let it go when it felt this good, “when you’re being teased I’m supposed to relent, even though you made me cum downstairs in my entryway?” 

And he’s swallowing thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing just as anticipatory as the rest of his body, a bow string drawn tight just waiting for you to release it. But you wished to toy with the arrow more. 

“I have half a mind to make you clean my cum off the floor with your tongue,” you click your own tongue as a taunt, but that only makes him squirm, “but maybe I’ll spare you since you’re being so good for me,” you’re dragging your fingers down his boxers, freeing his cock— already far too hard, flushed and dripping with precum as it slaps against his stomach, the flared head nearly begging you to touch it, “tell me what you want,” his cock is far too gorgeous, you thought that from the first time you saw it  — long and curved, and the veins that ran along it were so pretty— just like the man himself. 

And a whimper escapes his lips, “sweetheart, please, touch me—“ 

“With what?” you thumb his tip lightly, smearing the cum down his shaft, “my fingers? Or my mouth,” and your lips lick the pre that clings to your thumb clean, dragging your thumb down the flat of your tongue. 

“Y-Your mouth,” and you’re smiling, your lips curling as his pretty gaze pleads with you, “please,” 

“Imagine your subordinates saw you like this, begging your ex-wife to blow you, nearly ready to blow your load already just from fingering me,” your fingers toy with his balls, while you leans down to trace the tip of his tongue up the bottom of his cock, “what do you think they’d say?” And your lips part to let his engorged tip enter, as his head falls back with a groan, the wet and warm mouth, as you start to bob your head up and down his length. 

“Fuuuuck, pretty,” and you’re pausing as you wait for a reply to your question, his own tongue tying itself in knots, “think I’m down bad for my wife,” he’s grunting, the words ‘my wife’ and his groans sending white hot arousal to your needy cunt, “think I’d let her fuck me anyway she wants and they would be right, sweets. I’d let you use me,” your tongue is wrapped around his length, as his dick sinks deeper into your mouth, nose brushing against his pubes, his hips held taut as he forces himself not to face fuck you. 

And his eyes flutter down to meet yours, only to find your eyes drowning in lust, molten with need that nearly burned him with want, lips sloppy and dripping with a mix of precum and your spit out of the corners of your mouth, and your fingers —buried deep in your cunt as you sucked him off. 

Fuck. 

With the nasty way you slurped at his length, the noise ringing in his ear as your fingers begin to squeeze and stroke his balls, he wasn’t going to last much longer. His hips bucked against your mouth, and he’s muttering apologies but you let him, moaning as his tip hits the back of your throat. 

“I’m close—where—“ and you’re sucking hard, tongue flicking against his slit and when he fucks your mouth once, twice — he’s gone. He’s cumming down your throat, hot spurts of cum painting your lips and mouth, his head falls back, fingers gripping the sheets as his eyes flutter open. And he watches you pull away from his cock, sticky strings of cum and saliva connecting you to his length still, “fuck, sweetheart,” his softening dick already twitching at the sight of you — your pretty tongue darting out to lick his cum from your lips. 

“You taste as good as I remember, Toru — always so sweet,” and you’re pulling your own fingers from inside your tight pussy, and he snaps. 

You’re on your back on the bed now, flopped down against the mattress as his hand closes around your wrist of the hand that was just inside you. Your words are lodged in your throat but come out a shiver when he brings your soaked fingers to his lips, he kisses each one before sucking and licking them clean. 

“Toru—“ and he pulls away from the last finger with a pop, eyes clouded with need, “I—“ 

“And you say I taste good?” he’s humming, as he leans over you, “wait until you taste yourself, Princess,” and his mouth is insistent on giving you an entire course of your taste on his tongue, mapping out a detailed cartography of very crook and crevice of your mouth, “aren’t you so much sweeter?” He’s pulling away from your bitten red lips, spit connecting your lips still, “and that taste is all mine, just like you, wifey,” 

The pet name sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, stoking the burning need already threatening to consume you both, “Toru—“ and he’s already stripping your dress away, pulled away up and over your head, thrown away like every thought of why this was a bad idea. Your nipples perk in the cool air of your bedroom and under his hot gaze, standing at attention as if they’re begging for his attention. And he’s more than happy to oblige. 

His fingers toy with the buds, rolling between your forefinger and thumb, until he’s bending down to take one in his mouth, and you’re arching into his touch, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulders. 

“Bet Atsuya would love to see you like this, huh?” He’s switching to the other side, teeth dragging against your nipple to draw a gasp from your lips, “Would love to see you such a mess like this, spread out and needy,” and he’s spreading you with warm palms, his half hard cock brushing against your thigh, “Were you gonna let him fuck you on this bed? Our bed?” 

He doesn’t allow you an answer as his fingers spread your dripping walls, “Gonna let him taste you like this?” His lips warm your fluttering pussy, nearly begging for his touch and to swallow you whole, “when I already said this pretty cunt was mine,” he clicks his tongue far too close, making you whine, “g’nna have to answer my question first, Princess,” 

“No, I wouldn’t,” and he presses a chaste kiss to your dripping pussy, making you whimper, your walls spasming around nothing, “Toru,” 

“Remember when we moved into this home?” his lips are teasing your inner thigh, teeth dragging against your hot skin, “we broke the bed in all night long,” he’s looking up through half lidded eyes, “think he could please you like that? Make you moan his name?” 

And you’re growing desperate as his lips draw close to your clit, tongue dragging against it, only to pull away to your thighs again, “no, no, only you, Toru, please—“ 

“Only I what?” oh you know he’s goading you, but your want is drawn taut like a stringed instrument, tweaking your strings when you’re dying for him to play you — “c’mon sweetheart,” 

“Only you make me feel this good — fuck, Toru, I swear to god—“ your head falls back into the pillow as his face buries itself in your cunt, his laugh vibrates against your walls, pleasure rising faster than smoke from a burning building. His fingers dig into your hips as he holds you in place now, settled between your legs. 

“You swear to me what?” and you swear his god complex gets worse and worse, and the way you moaned with his head between your legs wasn’t helping, “sorry, Princess, I have my mouth full,” and his tongue as silver as his words were, parting your folds with ease, as his lips slurped at your folds messily. 

Fuck, he was too good at it, and he knew it, smirk on his lips as the wet, nasty noises of his mouth wrapped around your cunt and your bordering pornographic moans filled the silence. Pleasure ribboned up your body, mixing with the sharpness of his fingers pressed against your plush thighs to keep you in place. 

“Gonna make me cum before I even fuck you, Princess,” and you hear the telltale squelch of his hand around his weeping dick — the shudder of your groan making him moan all the same, “taste so fucking good, never gonna go a night without tasting you again,” he murmurs far too reverently with his tongue dipping back into your folds for more of your juices, “you know how many times I fucked my fist to the thought of eating you out again? Never gonna spend a second without burying myself in this cunt,” 

“Toru, I’m close—“ and you are, greedy tongue flitting over your clit, his nose bumping against his folds, and the practiced ease of his touch — he knew just what to do to make you cum. And he did, his mouth closing around your clit, before sucking harshly. 

You cum on his face, swallowing your slick with the thrust of a desert weary man, his eagerness apparent on his soaked face, as you finally came down your high. He doesn’t waste a drop, only pulling away with a pop when your orgasm ebbs away, licking his lips clean of your juices. 

“Still dripping even after I licked you clean?” He clicks his tongue as he watches your slick soak the sheet, “gonna have to find another way, maybe you need something bigger,” he hums in fake contemplation, “what can we use?” 

“I have some sex toys that might do the trick,” and he scoffs, as he kisses up your body, before pressing his hard erection against your thigh. 

“Don’t think any toy you have compares to me,” and you’re gasping as he drags the head of his cock against your puffy clit, “nothing can fill you up like I can,” and he groans as he watches your releases mix, “just for that, g’nna make you beg for it,” 

“Toru,” you’re whining, but he’s only teasing your entrance with the head of his dick, your walls fluttering, already begging for him to sink into you, but he’s waiting for your mouth to do the same, “please, fuck me, I need you inside—“ 

He grins, “Well how can I deny my pretty wife when she asks so nicely?” And he’s splitting you open with his thick cock, balls deep with only a thrust of his hips. Your hands are grasping at him for purchase, needing to hold onto him as his cock stretches your walls out. It’s as if you remember him, walls sliding to accommodate him as they always did, but clinging to him desperately, a grunt parting his lips, as if they never wanted him to leave again. And you didn’t. 

“So fucking tight, Princess,” he’s groaning in your ear, a swallow roll of his hips drawing a chorus of moans from both of you, “don’t have to break my dick off to keep it — I’ll take you anytime you want,” and he’s pressing your thighs forward, slinging one over his shoulder, as he presses himself even deeper. 

A whine leaves the back of your throat, “too deep, Toru,” and his cock twitches inside you at that, “fuck,” and it takes everything in him not to blow his load there and then, 

“You love it when I fuck you like this, Princess, or do I have to remind you?” And he does, beginning to piston in and out, the lewd slaps of skin and moans filling the air of your bedroom, “be careful or our daughter might wake from the sounds of her mommy getting fucked,” he clicks his tongue, “maybe we should give her another sibling?” He’s watching the way your cunt eagerly welcomes his cock, sinking in and out with ease, “fuck another baby into you, hm? Would you like that princess?” 

“Toru, ngh,” your walls flutter at the thought of a kid, of his seed filling you up, “please—more—“ 

He gives a chuckle, “I’ll give you everything, sweetheart — fuck you so full that you’ll be dripping with my seed for days,” he’s grunting, legs trembling as his thrusts grow more sloppy as his orgasm begins to build, “fuck, you feel so good for me, “gonna give you another baby, make sure everyone knows you’re mine, my wife—“ 

“G’nna cum, Toru,” you’re falling back against the mattress, as he bends down to press a messy kiss to your lips, all tongue and teeth, before his fingers reach down to rub at your clit. Your eyes finding his, face flushed a pretty pink, eyes shrouded in a deep lust that was reserved only for you, and as he bucks into you even deeper, he brushes against that spongy spot that has the taut string snapping as you fall apart. 

“Cum on my cock, sweetheart,” he’s grunting, as he grazes teeth along your neck before biting. And you cum hard, toes curling as your mouth falls open with only moans of his name on your lips. The way your walls squeeze around him has him only rutting into you harder, deeper, messier — as he watches the ring of cum pool around the base of his cock, fucking you through your orgasm, “g’nna cum—“ and you’re pulling him into another kiss, legs wrapped around him as he falls over the edge with you. Hot cum spills in ropes inside your walls, his hips rolling as he does, if only to fuck his cum deeper inside you. 

“Toru, s’good, I—“ you’re incoherent nearly under him, soft kisses pressed along your jaw as you both come down from your highs, cock softening inside you only him to pull out, another groan of your name on his lips when he watches his cum drip from inside you, staining your thighs along with the sheets. 

And you whimper when he’s gathering his spilled cum on two fingers only to push it back inside, “can’t let you waste a drop, can we, sweetheart?” 

He’s finally pulling away, his other hand cupping your cheek, as he finds your lips in a lazy but far too sweet kiss, “Toru,” you mumble, “I never stopped loving you, because I don’t think I ever could,” 

His eyes grow glassy, his fingers finding the back of your neck, “I know nothing I’ll do will make up for what I did — to you and Satomi, but,” he presses his forehead to yours, “if you both let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” 

And tears burn at the corners of your eyes, “Just stay with us, and promise to never leave — that’s enough,” and your lips brush his, “you’re more than enough for us, Satoru,” and he kisses you again and again and again, nearly climbing on top of you again, when you both hear a tiny gasp from the door. 

Your heads both snap over to your baby daughter leaning against the door, badly hidden behind it, as she pokes her head in, “did mommy and daddy make up?” 

Your cheeks burn as you cover your face — you both had checked on Satomi before but she was fast asleep still, and now — you checked the time — 9:30 PM, you were sure she’d be up all night. 

“Yes baby, mommy and daddy had some stuff to talk about,” Satoru grabs your robe for you, handing it over as he pulls his discarded boxers on under the sheets, “come here,” and she squeals as she runs into her daddy’s arms, Satoru scoops her up before pressing kisses all over her face, her giggles and his grin nearly too much for you. 

“Now she’s gonna be up all night,” you murmur to Satoru, and he’s smiling. 

“I can tire her out,” he grins, and then he adds with a whisper, “and then I’ll tire you out,” and you flush, shoving him playfully, “come on, my love, let’s go play for a while and let mama rest,” and he’s sliding out of bed, carrying her out of the bedroom, and you watch him, lying on your side, with a smile on your lips.  

Maybe it wasn’t so bad having a husband — especially when it was Satoru Gojo. 

Satoru lets you and Satomi sleep in the next morning, making a smoothie for himself, as he starts to prepare breakfast. He did tire you both out last night, especially you — and you did some exhausting of your own, his fingers running over the hickies you left all over his neck and collarbone with a slight hum. He tied your apron on himself, only boxers and a sleeveless tee on. 

He started to crack eggs into a bowl with one hand. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again — he meant what he said. He would make it up to you, or at least he would try — and he would spend the rest of his life treasuring you and his kid — and maybe another if you let him have his way, he thought, biting back a grin. 

You had turned him down last night when he asked, 

“Don’t you think it’s time we try for another one?” His arms are winding around you, half hard erection already pressing into you, as the two of you stood right outside your daughter’s doorway, watching the angel sleep, “we did do well with the first one,” 

“Toru, we just got back together, we’re not having another kid,” and he’s already pouting, you know without looking at him, “but that would be nice — for our daughter to have a sibling,” and god, it made him to take right there (which he did), but he couldn’t wait until all three of you were ready. Because he wouldn’t dare to miss a second of it — never again. 

And then a knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts, and his brow furrows. Who could it be this early?

He walks over, checking through the peephole, a grin growing on his lips, oh, perfect timing. Satoru opens the door, leaning against the doorframe, “Yes?” 

Atsuya Kusakabe frowns, jaw nearly dropping as he attempts not to gape at Satoru Gojo standing in his date’s doorway, nearly dropping the bag of medicine and soup he had packed up for you, “Uh, sorry, I was looking for—“ 

“My wife?” He raises a brow, and Kusakabe’s face blanches, as Satoru only smiles with a shrug, “sorry I should say ex-wife, we did get a divorce,” and Kusakabe’s mouth opens and closes, “but you know, she never stopped being mine,” 

Kusakabe clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, “where is—“ 

“She’s sleeping still,” Satoru’s lips curl, as he sighs, “she wasn’t feeling well yesterday, but I think I made her feel better last night,” and he’s rubbing the back of his neck, movement drawing his attention to your marks littering his body. 

A flush crawls up his neck and ears and he clears his throat, “I-I see,” he thrusts the bag into Satoru’s hands, “could you please give this to her and let her know—“ and he’s shaking his head, rubbing at his temples, “tell her whatever you want.” 

And he’s gone, door slamming behind him, click of the lock. He holds the bag behind him, only to walk forward to see you peeking from the bedroom, his button up shirt thrown over your head, as you rub your eyes,  “who was it?” 

He only smiles at you, dropping the bag in the trash, “No one important,” and he’s finding his way to your side, arms winding around your waist, “I made us breakfast,” 

“Oh really?” You hum, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that only makes you sigh contently, “what’s the occasion?” 

“Oh, just the first day of the rest of our lives, nothing too big,” he hums, and you laugh, his favorite noise that only makes him fall deeper in love with you, if that was even possible, “have to treat you right don’t I, wifey?” 

“Yes, you do,” and your lips find his again, “my husband,” and the word sticks in his chest, a missing piece that fits right back into place, and fixes a hole that had been aching for far too long, “should we go wake up our daughter?” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Together.” 

✧ a/n: so i didn't think i'd finish this week with being at my sister's and having a con this weekend but i found the time! i hope you enjoyed this one. this is my reality for gojo i'm living in :) fun fact, satomi and satoru both mean enlightenment! :)

✧ taglist: @jasminelee324 , @forest-hashira , @spider-fan72 ,, @rougebrainsludge , @theshylittleelfgirl , @ririchurl , @johannakhalafalla , @hanlay , @fawnlikelore , @vickkysthings , @dead-kats , @hantaslittlearsonist t , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @augustwinesworld , @forest-fruits-jam , @kirashuu , @catsgomurp , @daddytojji , @notgoodforlife , @hyori2 , @shrimpy109 , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @sunamatic , @rougebrainsludge , @redmangotango , , @psychxbby , @nakariabnrb , @mua-for-now @dazailover1900 , @alwaysfreakingout , @yamaguccitadashi , @equikaz , @gojosatorubrainrot

[arlestial]

❝lavender haze❞

synopsis : Rin begged Ego to let you assist to one of his training games. But he wasn’t quite fond of your interactions with a certain player..

pairing : Rin Itoshi x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : A mix of fluff and comfort, with the slightest bit of angst (jealousy themes, possessiveness)

word count : 2700~ words

author-note : Hi !!! It's been so long, I missed writing so much... I finally passed my final exams, and I'm now in vacations; I’m going to Austria today. My blog is like- a blue lock obsession at this point lmao but ngl i like it that way. Btw, I’ve seen the movie and I'm just plain disappointed ? It was short asf, and the animation... well, we don't wanna talk about it. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated :) sorry if it’s bad btw !! Anyway, take care of yourself ♡

A rare, smug smile appeared on RIN ITOSHI’s lips; a smile that immediately triggered his teammates, who looked at each other, dumbfounded. They weren’t used to observe him with such an expression written on his usual stern features; as soon as he left the locker rooms, whispers emerged in the sweaty air, begging for an explanation.

"No way he did," Isagi contested with a frown and a disapproving tone, much to Bachira’s dismay.

"I’ve seen it with my eyes," The other retorqued, "Believe me. He smiled, dude. I’ve never seen him smile before."

"We’re gonna get fired from Blue Lock. I swear— he wouldn’t be happy if it wasn’t terrible. He’s a sadist."

"No worries, my dear Isagi. We’re going to elucidate this mystery together," Bachira replied with a proud smirk of his own; Isagi sighed at his friend’s antics.

"Maybe it’s personal."

"It’s never personal enough for us not to be nosy !" The dual-haired boy nearly gasped, "Our duo is unstoppable."

With more or less desire to intrude Rin’s life, Isagi joined Bachira into a rather quick — and disappointing — mission, to solve the mystery around the cold-hearted guy’s smile, a smile they had the chance to witness.

"Ah. Itoshi asked Ego to let his partner see the next training game. I didn’t know he would be this enthusiastic once Ego accepted."

Anri’s revelation should’ve been a relief for the two men — they wouldn’t be expelled of the program. Thus, Isagi had been surprised and confused when he noticed Bachira’s quiet attitude.

"Aren’t you supposed to be delighted you discovered the truth ?", The raven-haired boy asked, curious, as they walked in the corridor to join their rooms again.

"I didn’t even have time to feel the thrill of the investigation," the other whined.

"At least we know he has a partner. It’s… let’s just say it’s surprising someone like him could ever get someone."

"Someone like me ?"

The sudden third voice scared the two men off, and they jumped. Of course, it was Rin. Always there at the worst moment. Isagi gulped.

"H-Hey, I didn’t mean it like that—"

"What Isagi was trying to say, is that we’re not picturing you as the lovey-dovey type of guy, you know ? Not a good boyfriend or something."

If Isagi could facepalm right now, he would, "Thank you for your help, Bachira, it’s even worse now", he replied in a murmur.

"Who said I couldn’t be the "lovey-dovey type of guy" ?", Rin huffed in his usual cold tone, "and a good boyfriend ?"

"Everyone," the two others responded at the same time. Rin rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"So, y’all just sat down and talk about who could be a good partner or not ? That’s probably why you’re still fucking losers at soccer."

Bachira held Isagi back, amused by his eagerness to show Rin "who’s the real loser between them". Rin walked away confidently, and above all, enlivened by Ego’s answer. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it, the butterflies already flying eagerly in his stomach in anticipation.

RIN ITOSHI’s belly butterflies died in an instant. It wasn’t fair. At all. He had been longing for you since weeks now, months even; he negotiated with Ego for who-knows-long, trying to find a way to make you come to a training game of his — so that he wouldn’t have to search for you in a huge crowd of exasperating, futile, and bland people. And here he was, watching you from afar talking with Isagi Yoichi. He cursed under his breath. This dude had nothing to do with you. He was nothing compared to Rin; a mere guy, with limited soccer skills and knowledge and experience and — why were you talking with him anyway ? When he was right there, waiting for you. The training have haven't even started yet, and playing with Isagi left a bitter taste in his mouth. He threw a hard glare in your direction, which you immediately noticed; you waved at him with a smile, and it nearly made him melt. It would've if he wasn't this upset in the first place. Bachira called for Isagi, and the raven-haired boy returned to the field with a smile. If he could, Rin would definitely wipe the smile off this random guy's face.

RIN ITOSHI tried not to let this affect him. But the prominent and everlasting burning sensation in his chest clouded his mind, making him loose his focus each time his eyes would fall on either Isagi, or you. And god knows how much he had missed you, how he needed to touch you now, to feel your skin just against his — to kiss you endlessly, and his gaze softened by pure reflex as he noticed you were staring at him. He felt guilty, to entertain such hideous resentment towards you, while you were just there for him, as beautiful as the day he left you in your shared apartment to join Blue Lock again after his short break. Was he jealous? It couldn't be. Why would he be jealous of Isagi? He was better than him in everything. Atter 45 minutes, when they all got a short break from the match, Rin refused to say a word. He was always rather quiet - but now, it felt a bit weird. He just stared at Isagi with a cold gaze, and the other boy frowned. When they had to join the field again, Isagi stopped Rin, a hand laying on his shoulder.

"Hey, is everything okay? If it's about the score of earlier, I already said -"

"Look," Rin cut out quickly, his tone slowly shifting to an irritated one, "I don't want to hear your fucking voice."

Isagi's brows were now even more furrowed in confusion,

"What the.. I did nothing bad, dude. If you're upset, that's not my problem. Deal with your childish feelings alone, I don't know."

Childish feelings ? It was deeper than that. Much to Rin's own surprise, he grabbed Isagi's collar, dragging him closer with a menacing look. He didn't know, did he ? How much Rin loved you, how much he required your whole attention. Maybe it was childish indeed, selfish even, to desire to be your whole world. The only one you would ever think about. If he could make you his forever, he would; and at the same time, you had every right to talk to other people, be friends with anyone, you were free after all. But that wouldn’t rub out the aching feeling in his heart, seeing you smile with someone else, having a good time with someone who wasn’t him. Maybe because in the very end, he was scared of losing you. Of you, finally realizing you deserved far better than what he could give you. He was distant, sometimes. He hurt you too much, argued with you on futile things, left for Blue Lock for months, he was a huge mess, and still, you wanted him. It was a mystery for Rin, but he wouldn’t ever complain. He was too engrossed in your love and affection, and somehow, even if he knew it was fundamentally wrong, he’d never wish for you to realize what you truly deserved. Because it wasn’t him. And he couldn’t bare to see you enjoying your life with someone else other than him.

"I’m going to end your pathetic and meaningless existence so quickly you won’t have time to take another breath," Rin spat sharply, "I’ll politely advice you not to approach them ever again — don’t want your disgusting germs to infect them, understood ?"

With these words, Rin yanked him away and joined the field, leaving a widened-eyed Isagi behind him. As soon as the game ended, the whole Blue Lock team began gathering their water bottles, heading to the locker rooms. Rin stayed behind, since he wanted to spend some time with you before your departure. When you both were finally alone, you walked down the stairs, and Rin immediately engulfed you in his arms. One hand was grabbing your side, the other resting on the back of your head, pulling you close. He sighed, inhaling your familiar perfume — it was his favorite, the one he gifted you recently — and pressed a delicate kiss to the crown of your head.

"I missed you so much," He declared, or more precisely, complained, and you chuckled, embracing him just as tightly.

"And I missed you even more," you responded, loosening your embrace to look at him. He could die for this fond look in the depths of your irises. You didn’t have to ask; his hands reached for your cheeks, tilting your head backwards to kiss you gently, yet, eagerly, a pleading for your tenderness. You kissed him back, amused by his move. He was usually the reserved type, especially in public — even if the whole stadium was empty now. Your lips parted to welcome his tongue inside, deepening the kiss even more, a slow dance mimicking his need for you. He kissed your forehead softly when you two broke away from one another.

"What happened earlier ? With Isagi. I thought you were gonna fight."

The question tensed him. Of course you had to bring it up. He stroked your cheek delicately, as if you’d shatter if he wasn’t careful enough.

"Nothing, love, don’t worry. I was just—"

"He told me about it, Rin."

You cut him, and he winced. Ah. That was a problem. He swore he discerned a tint of disappointment in your eyes, but it faded away too rapidly for him to search for it again.

"I thought we said no lies between us."

"I know, darling", he could only mutter. You gently took his wrists, then his hands, intertwining your fingers together.

"Am I not reassuring you enough, Rin ? I won’t ever leave you. Especially not for a guy I just met. You know that."

"More than enough," the memory of your smile and laugh when Isagi cracked a joke made him sigh, "it’s hard to believe sometimes. That’s all."

You nodded; with his lack of self-esteem, how was he supposed to believe you, anyway ? It was a constant fight against the insecurities crawling in the pit of his soul, however, you would never let them win. He suffered enough alone, now that you were there with him, you’d be in the frontlines.

"But it’s still true. I’m lucky to have you, Rin. Maybe one day you’d finally recognize that."

At this moment, he wanted to tell you he was lucky to have you, but he didn’t dare, especially not when he saw you reaching for him again, your arms around his neck. He let himself drown in your arms and comfort, soothed by your heartbeat — at this very precise instant, he swore his heart was beating for you. And if you wanted it on a silver plate, he’d gladly do so.

"I’m sure his joke wasn’t even that funny."

You chuckled, "maybe not better than yours, I must admit."

Not far away, two boys were spying on the scene; their investigation had been more successful than what they ever hoped for, "maybe he’s not that bad, after all."

"I thought he was going to choke me to death."

"Oh, he could."

RIN ITOSHI was a possessive man. Somewhere, he wanted you to rely on him, and him only — to be the only source of your happiness. He never had something to call his; you were the first. And he fully intended you to be the last.

[samanthacastano02]

He Calls you Clingy - Han Jisung

Han Jisung x FemReader

Word Count: 5.4k

Trigger warnings: angst, depression, thoughts of suicide, thoughts of the members being better off without her, poorly written. (I'm not a fan of how this turned out, I had started this when I was fighting with a friend and when the fight ended I lost my inspiration for the story. I might try and rewrite it at a later date or post an alternate version)

Summary: You had been best friends with Han since before his debut, you had always had feelings for him but kept them hidden. When you over hear him call you clingy, your relationship with him becomes strained. You aren't sure if there is a way to come back from what he said and made you feel. But if there is a chance, you are willing to try, for the sake of keeping him in your life but will that be enough for you anymore?

Photo's not mine, credit goes to photographers

Bang Chan | Lee Know | Seo Changbin | Hwang Hyunjin | Lee Felix | Kim Seungmin | Yang Jeongin

I had known Han since before he debuted, standing by his side through everything. I was by his side during the survival show, the late nights at the studio when he struggled with lyrics, the early mornings when he didn’t want to wake up, and I was there for him when his anxiety had gotten really bad. I had always thought that he would always be by my side, I mean after all that’s what he had promised when he went into the trainee program, he had promised that he would always be by my side and wouldn’t let anything come between us, no matter what. But there was one thing that I could never tell him, I was madly in love with him but I knew that he would never feel that way about me because all he ever saw me as was his best friend and at the end of the day that is all he would ever see me as.

Present:

Han had asked me if I wanted to spend the day with him at the studio while he worked on lyrics. I had the day off so I figured that there wouldn’t be any harm in spending the day with him. It wasn’t very often anymore that I got to spend the day with him anymore due to my job. I know that if I had told Han about how stressful my job was he would tell me to quit and that he would take care of me, but I can’t ask that of him. I know that he and I have been best friends for years now but I don’t want him to start thinking that I am friends with him because he has money. 

Even though he and I were hanging out, we weren’t talking but that’s usually how our hang out sessions usually went. Each of us doing our own thing but enjoying being in each other's company. That was one thing about Han and I, we didn’t have to constantly talk or do things to enjoy each other's company. 

“Hannie, I’m hungry and it’s about lunch time. Do you want anything yet?”

“Hmm? What?” “I was just asking if you wanted lunch yet, I’m starting to get hungry.”

“I’m almost done with these lyrics, why don’t you take my card and run and grab us something, bring it back here?” “Sure, I can do that. Anything in particular that you’d like?” “No, just get whatever you think looks good. You know that I’ll eat just about anything.”

“Alright, I’ll be back soon.”

With his card in hand, I make a quick trip to the restaurant down the street that both he and I like. I tried to balance the food and drinks while making my way back to the building, thankfully the front ladies knew me and were quick to rush and help me when they noticed that I was struggling with carrying everything and opening the doors. Once I got up to the floor that Han was on, I was quick to make my way to their studio. When I got to the studio I had noticed that the door had been left ajar and there were multiple voices inside. I could tell that it was Innie, Changbin, Felix and Seungmin talking and hanging out with Han, I was about to push open the door when I heard something that made my heart drop. 

“Hey Hyung, where is y/nnie?” Innie asks, noticing that my stuff is there but I’m not.

“She went to get us food, she’ll probably be back soon.” Han responded. 

“Why don’t you sound too excited about that?” Felix asked.

“I don’t know, it just feels like I am constantly seeing her.”

“Don’t you normally go with her when she goes to get you guys food?” Seungmin asks.

“I do, but she didn’t ask this time and I just needed a break.” “A break?” Changbin asks, sounding both confused and worried.

“Yea, she is so damn clingy all the time, she is constantly wanting to hang out and is constantly at the studio. When all I want is to just have the day to myself, she’s there asking if I want to hang out and if I tell her no she’ll throw a fit and that’ll just cause me more issues. Sometimes I really regret becoming her friend, if I had known that she would be this fucking clingy I wouldn’t have gotten as close to her.”

“That’s harsh Han, even for you. She’s your best friend, you know that she just wants to spend time with you because she doesn’t get to see you as often as we do.” Innie tries to defend me.

“Yeah but asking to hang out as often as she does. It gets so annoying and I just need a break, because I know that if I tell her no, she will throw a fit.”

“Han, that’s a little harsh. You know that she wants to spend time with you because she cares about you” Changbin tries to get Han to realize that he’s being harsher than he needs to be. But when he looks up, he sees me standing outside the door and he knows that I’ve just heard everything.

I take that opportunity to push open the door and enter the room, the rest of the boys smile and greet me but when I look at Han I can now see that he is doing his best to hide his annoyance with me. The boys try their best to involve me in their conversations but with what I had just overheard, it’s hard to interact and pretend that I’m ok. How can I pretend that I’m ok when I just found out that my best friend thinks that I’m clingy and that it gets annoying. After a while of just watching the boys interact with each other and trying to pretend that I’m ok, I do my best to come up with a believable excuse so that I can go home and actually let out all the emotions that I’ve felt in the last two hours. 

“Hey boys, I need to head out. I’ve got some prepping that I need to do for work tomorrow.” “Are you sure you gotta head out so soon? We haven’t seen you in forever, Noona.” Innie tries to convince me to stay  longer.

“I’m sorry Innie, but I really need to head home and get ready for work tomorrow. I’ll try to stop by when I have more time.”

“Do you want me to walk you down?” Han asks, I can see that he’s trying to not seem overly annoyed.

“No, no that's ok. I know that you are busy. I’ll see you later.” “Alright, as long as you are sure.” Han responds.

“I’m sure, it’s not dark out or anything. I’ll be ok, plus my apartment isn’t far from here, so it’ll be a nice walk.”

“Wait, you’re walking home? Why not have one of our drivers take you home?” Changbin asks, obviously concerned for my safety. 

“It’s ok, really.”

Before any of the boys can argue or try to convince me to take one of the company cars home, I grab my stuff and stand to leave. Han barely looks at me but the rest of the boys wave goodbye, to my surprise Changbin gets up and follows me out of the room. I know that he’s going to ask if I’m ok and honestly I don’t know if I’m ready for him to ask me that because the moment that he does, I know that I won’t be able to hold in the tears. 

“Y/n, hold on. Are you ok? I know you heard what Han said.” Changbin asked.

“I honestly don’t know Binnie.” 

“It’s ok if you aren’t. What he said was super harsh, and he definitely shouldn’t have said that about you.”

“I mean, maybe he has a point.”

“What are you talking about? What point does he have?” Changbin looks appalled by the fact that I agree with Han. 

“I can be clingy and I know that it can get annoying, so maybe what I need to do is back off and give him space. I know that’s what he wants but feels he can’t tell me.”

“Y/n, don’t do this. You know that this is going to end up hurting you. I know that Han can be a dumbass but you need to tell him that you heard him and that what he said hurt.” “I can’t Binnie, I really can’t. I can’t do that to him, I can’t make him feel guilty for how he is feeling. I do appreciate the fact that you are trying to protect my feelings but I got this handled.” “Alright, but if you need anything then please let me know. You know that all of us are here for you if you need anything.” “I know Binnie, and I am extremely thankful for that.” “If you won’t take a company care, then please at least let me walk you home. I don’t have anything for the next hour and a half.” “Binnie, it’s ok. I’ll be fine.”

Binnie realized that trying to convince me would be hopeless and that he wouldn’t win this argument with me. So at the doors of the company, he just asked that I let him know when I get home and to keep him updated on how my work assignment is going. 

“Binnie, there was no work assignment. I just needed an excuse to leave.” “Oh y/nnie.” The look of sadness on his face broke the dam that I had been trying to keep.

“I need to leave Binnie, before he sees and it makes things worse.” “Alright, just let me know when you get home, ok?” “I will, please try not to be too upset with Han. He can’t help the way that he feels.” “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.”

Four Weeks Later:

I didn’t mean too but over the next few weeks I continued to pull away from the group. I didn’t want to be too clingy with Han, I knew that the guys would miss me but they were his friends before they were mine. I didn’t need to give him another reason to be upset with me. It terrifies me to be alone, with the boys being my only friends but maybe it’s for the best that I distance myself, maybe I rely on Han and them too much. 

As the days go on, it’s hard to not feel lonely and miss spending time with the boys but I can’t give Han another reason to be upset, I already can’t handle the fact that he thinks I’m clingy. I love him and he finds me clingy, the one person I love more than anything and he wants nothing to do with me anymore. 

Han’s POV:

At first I didn’t even realize that y/n had been spending less time around me and the guys, at first it was a nice break from her but as time went on I began to realize just how much I missed having her around. I could tell that the boys weren’t happy with me, but I didn’t know why she had stopped hanging around us. It’s obvious that the boys know but they weren’t going to tell me, if I wanted answers I was going to have to ask her myself. Out of all the boys she was closest to Changbin, I knew that he would know where she was. 

“Changbin-Hyung, can I talk to you?” I pull him aside after dance practice. 

“What can I do for you Han?”

“Why has y/n not been around as much?” “She’s just been busy.”

“For two weeks?”

“Han, why do you all of a sudden care? Two weeks ago you were saying that she was too clingy.”

“I was wrong. I was stressed, tracks weren’t going well, Channie-Hyung was on my tail on getting lyrics to him and I said the wrong thing. But she doesn’t know that I said anything, does she?” “God, if she knows that I told you this she’d kill me. She overheard you Han, she heard what you said, that’s why she left that day. She didn’t have an assignment that she needed to work on, she used it as an excuse to leave because she was barely holding it together.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” “Fuck is right Han, she has stood by your side since before our debut and has been nothing but supportive and this is how you repay her? And you claim to be in love with her?” “Fuck Hyung, you’ve gotta help me. Please, help me fix this with her. I do love her, I put my anger in the wrong place and it hurt her.”

“Because I want her to be happy and I want you to be happy, I’ll help you. But only if she tells me that she is ready to even possibly consider forgiving you.” “God I can’t believe I fucked up.”

Your POV:

It had been harder than I thought it would be to cut myself from the group, the depression was getting harder to deal with but it was my problem to handle not the boys, they already had enough to deal with. Some days it felt like my body was made of stone and all I could do was lay in bed and cry, some days I had the energy to get up and function. But more often than not, I was barely functioning, living off of power drinks and water. I functioned enough that I could complete my work but that was about it, there wasn’t much else that I could force myself to do. Han had been my support and when he called me clingy, that support fell out from under me. And the worst part is that no matter what, a part of me will always love him, even when I know that I shouldn’t. 

The past two weeks had been exceptionally bad, I could barely function, I had called out of work and I could barely get myself to shower. I wanted my Han back but he was better off without me, and maybe the boys were better off without me, maybe everyone would be better off without me. I was spiraling and felt like I was drowning, I felt like there was no point in staying, in living any longer. I was so in my head that I hadn’t heard my phone ringing, hadn’t heard Changbin trying to get ahold of me. I knew that had I looked I would see the panicked texts and calls from him, it wasn’t until I heard him rushing into my apartment that I somewhat came out of my funk. 

Changbin’s POV:

When I walked into y/n’s apartment, it looked like she had barely been living. The blinds were drawn, barely letting any light in, there were no dishes in the sink, just empty protein drinks and water bottles. She had been drinking enough to stay alive but other than that, she wasn’t living, she was slowly letting herself die. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to fix this, the only person that would be able to fix this is Han. I quickly called him, needing him to get here as quickly as possible. While I call him, I pull y/n into me, holding her close to me, feeling protective of her.

“Han, I need you to get to y/n’s apartment as quickly as possible.” 

“Is everything ok? Is she ok?”

“No, she’s not ok and right now the only person that can fix it is you.” “Fuck, ok. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I don’t care if you have to hitchhike, get your ass over here now.” “Shit, ok.”

Twenty minutes later I hear frantic knocking on y/n’s door, I know that it’s Han. Y/n has a death grip on me and I am unable to pry her off of me to let him in, I know that he still has her key. With one hand I send him a text to just come in, when he finally gets his head on straight enough to open the door, he sees what condition she is in. 

“What happened?” “She cut herself off from the only support system that she had.”

“Fuck.” “You need to fix this Han, I am not about to lose her due to your stupidity.”

I manage to loosen her hold on me long enough that Han is able to slip in and take my spot, I know that they will figure it out and that I won’t have to help. Han gives me a nod, letting me know that he has it under control now and that he will let me know if he needs help. With a heavy sigh I leave her apartment, praying that things will be resolved. 

Your POV:

I don’t know what time I had fallen asleep, but when I woke up my head wasn’t resting on my pillows, instead it was resting on someone's hard chest. I was so out of it still that I hadn’t figured out who was holding me and why they were holding me. When I finally came too enough, I realized that it wasn’t Changbin that I was laying on, it was Han. I didn’t know why or how he was here but the selfish part of me wanted to bask in his warmth before he withdrew the warmth. 

I didn’t know why he was here but I was enjoying the comfort that he was bringing too much to bring myself to move out of his arms. I knew that once he woke up, whatever conversation that we ended up having would be difficult and I’d have to be alone again. I allowed myself to fall asleep again, allowed myself to take in the rare moment of comfort. 

The Next Morning:

For the first time in months, I slept for more than three hours. I knew that it was because of Han, and I also knew that the moment he left my sleep schedule would go back to being shit. I will have to talk to my doctor about getting on a sleep med after all of this is done. I could feel Han moving under me, so I knew that he was awake, and I knew that I could no longer put off the inevitable. 

“Han, why are you here?” “Changbin called me in a panic last night, told me that you weren’t answering him and then when he got here you were out cold, wouldn’t even wake up to painful stimulation.” “I’m fine. You don’t need to be here. Go home.” “You aren’t, and you haven’t been for a while.” “Why are you here? You haven’t cared for months, so why do you care now?”

“I have cared, but I thought that you wanted space, so I gave you the space even though I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why you disappeared from our lives.”

“I overheard you, I overheard what you said.” “What do you mean?” “I overheard you the night you called me clingy, so I gave you what you wanted Han. I gave you space.”

“God, I don’t even remember why I said that. But that doesn’t matter y/n, I was way wrong, I don’t want space from you.”

“You can’t just change your mind Han, you can’t just want me around when it’s convenient for you.” “I want you around all the time, it felt wrong when you weren’t around. Not only did I miss you but so did the guys, I’m pretty sure Changbin was about ready to smack some sense into me if I didn’t come when he called me.”

“What do you want from me Han, you call me clingy, I give you space but then you decide that you don’t want space anymore. You are very confusing and I really really don’t know what to think.” “I want you to cling to me y/n, I want you to show up to the studio randomly, no matter the time of day or night. I want you to spend time with the guys again, I know they miss you. I want you to bug me about going out to restaurants, I want you to just bug me.”

“Han, how do I know that the moment I start doing those things again, you won’t flip on me again and change your mind?” “These last few months without you have felt like torture because I didn’t know what went wrong and why you weren’t coming around. I never want to feel this way again, I don’t want to feel the fear again that I felt when Changbin called and said that you weren’t responding.”

“I don’t know what to do or say Han, how can I trust that this won’t happen again?”

“Give me a chance to prove to you that this won’t happen again.”

“Han, I can’t handle this again.”

“I promise you, that I won’t do this to you ever again.” “One chance Han, one chance.” “That’s all that I ask.”

Two Months Later:

For the last two months, things have slowly been going back to normal between me and the rest of the boys. The relationship between Han and I is still strained, I don’t want to get close to him just to have him rip my heart out again. I don’t think that I could handle it again, I barely could handle it this time and that was without me telling him how I felt. I don’t think that I can ever give him the power over me to wreck me the way he already has. 

Changbin knows about how I felt regarding Han, but he also knew that I would haunt his dreams if he ever dared to tell him. I didn’t hang around Han as much as I used to, afraid that if I did he would think I was clingy again. But the rest of the guys were happy to see me and I was happy to see them, I had missed them and they had missed me. It was Minho’s turn tonight to host movie night, which meant that against my better judgment I would be seeing Han for an extended period of time. It was getting harder and harder to hide how I felt for him, especially now with how he had been acting, trying to make it up to me for being an idiot. Minho could tell that I was struggling with being so close to Han, and that I was close to panicking. I needed space, using the excuse of needing a drink of water I went to the kitchen, running into Minho. 

“If you need space but don’t want to leave, you can sneak away into my room. Soonie, Doongie, and Dori are hiding in there.” Minho said quietly, trying not to scare me. 

“Why are they in your room? Aren’t they usually out and about?” “With how many people were going to be here tonight, I didn’t want them to get too stressed out.”

“That makes sense, but I think that I’m going to take you up on that offer because it’s becoming too much but I don’t want to leave yet.” “Feel free to hang out there for as long as you need. I’m sure they won’t mind the company.” with that he walked back into the living room while I looked towards his bedroom. 

With a deep breath I walked towards his room, knowing that if I went back to the living room I would end up having a panic attack. When I entered Minho’s room, I saw that Soonie and Dori were hanging out on his bed while Doongie was hanging out on his nightstand looking out the window. I knew that I couldn’t force them to cuddle but maybe if I layed down they would lay with me, so I laid on his bed trying to not disturb the two who were already lounging. At some point I must have fallen asleep because I woke to the sound of his door opening. I thought that it might have been Minho coming to check in but to my surprise it was Han. 

“I was wondering where you’d gone. Of course you chose the company of these three menaces over us.” he joked lightly.

“I just needed a break and was apparently tired.” “Are you ok?”

“I’m ok. Just needed to be alone for a little while.” “I’m sorry, again.”

“I forgive you Han, it’ll just take time to get back to how we used to be.”

“What if I don’t want to go back to how we used to be?” he asks hesitantly.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t keep pretending anymore.” “Pretending about what? Han, you're scaring me.” “I’ve been in love with you for years. I thought that I would be ok with just being friends, but I’m not, not anymore.” “Why did you never say anything before?”

“I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” “Han, I’ve been in love with you for years. I thought that I had made it so obvious.” “Apparently not, but I guess that is why I’m part of paboracha.” “What does this mean for us now?”

“Hopefully, you’ll let me take you on a date and eventually call you my girlfriend?” “I’d really like that.” “Do you think you are up to joining the group for the rest of the movie night or do you want to maybe go lay down in my room and cuddle and talk?”

“Cuddling and talking sounds really nice right now. I’ve really missed my best friend.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He steps up to me, pulling me into him, kissing my forehead.

He gently took my hand, pulling me out of Minho’s room and into his own room. We laid down together but didn’t talk much, just enjoying each other's company. It felt nice to finally be held by him. I had dreamed of being held by him like this for years and truthfully never thought that it would happen. 

“Y/nnie, I want to take you on a date.”

“I’d really like that.” “I want to take you out tomorrow night.”

“Ok.” I say sleepily.

“Dress fancy but not too fancy.”

With that we both fell into silence, it was uncomfortable. It wasn’t long until I was falling asleep, the warmth of Han’s hold on me and the comfort of being in his arms finally as something more than just his best friend. 

The Next Night:

I was filled with nervous energy, not because I thought that the date would go wrong but because I was finally going on a date with the man that I had been in love with for years. I knew that I had no reason to be nervous, but I couldn’t help it. It wouldn’t be long until he got there and I felt nowhere near ready enough for this, and he would be here in ten minutes. 

When Han finally got here, I was excited yet nervous for the date to start. When I opened the door to let Han in, he surprised me by having my favorite flowers. I think I had told him once in passing about what my favorite flowers were, so to have him remember meant a lot to me. Once the flowers were in a vase and I was ready to go, we headed out to dinner. 

After Dinner:

Dinner had gone so smooth that we hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. It was only when I let out a big yawn that I realized just how late it was. Han had decided that he didn’t want to take me somewhere super fancy, rather to a cute diner that he and Minho had come across. As Han walked me up to my door, I could tell that neither of us wanted the date to be over. 

“I had a really good time tonight Hannie.” “I’m really glad, I was nervous about messing up tonight.” “I’m sad that it’s over.” “I don’t either, I miss having my best friend with me. And now I’m gonna miss you even more, knowing that you feel the same.” “Hannie, would you maybe want to come inside? I-I don’t feel like being alone tonight.” “Y-you want me to spend the night? Are you sure?” “I am, but only if you are comfortable with it.” “Yes, yes. Let me shut the car off and then I’ll come in. Go get your pajamas on, I’ll lock up when I come in.” “Ok, Hannie.” I say quietly, kissing his cheek.

I was pulling on my t-shirt when Han knocked on my bedroom door, not wanting to invade my privacy. He was being shy and sweet and it made my heart swell with love for him. 

“Hannie, you can come in. I have some of your clothes in a drawer from before.” “Perfect, I’m gonna change in the bathroom and then I’ll be out.” “Don’t take too long, I want cuddles.” “Of course Jagi, can’t deprive my girl of her cuddles.” “Oh, I’m your girl now?”

“Aren’t you?” “I don’t know, I know we’ve both admitted our feelings but other than that we haven’t really talked about where to go.” “Let me change and then we can talk.” He quickly ran into the bathroom, trying to change quickly. In his rush he must have missed the leg hole of his pants or something because not long after he disappeared I heard a loud crash coming from the bathroom followed by an embarrassed I’m ok.

“Hannie, did you just fall over?” “Noooo.” 

“Ok, dork.”

He shyly exited the bathroom, holding the t-shirt I had given him. I had seen his tattoos before but it still caught me off guard every time I saw them. I was slightly confused as to why he didn’t have a shirt on, he usually was pretty good about wearing a shirt unless he was really warm.

“Han, not that I mind but why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” “Umm, it doesn’t fit anymore. The seams damn near ripped when I tried to put it on.” “Oh. Um, that’s the biggest shirt of yours that I have.” “Is it going to make you uncomfortable if I don’t wear a shirt?” He asks as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Not at all, you know that I like skin to skin contact. It’s calming and relaxing to me.” “Then let’s lay down.” he crawls into bed.

As he lays down I thought that maybe we would continue to talk but rather we just enjoyed each other’s company. As soon as he laid down he pulled me into him, holding me close to him like he was afraid that I would disappear if he let go. When I looked up at him, his eyes kept flickering between my eyes and my lips. 

“Hannie, can I try something?” “Sure.”

“Can you close your eyes?”

When he closed his eyes, I slowly leaned into him, I could feel his breath hitch. I didn’t let that sike me out from what I wanted to do, before I could second guess myself I gently pressed my lips to his. It took him longer than I thought for him to respond, I thought that he might be rejecting the kiss but right as I was about to pull away he wrapped his arms tighter around me and deepend the kiss. Kissing him felt like having a breath of fresh air for the first time in years. 

“I’m never letting you go now Jagi, you’re mine until you stop wanting me.” He said quietly.

“Then I guess I’ll be yours forever. I love you Hannie.”

“I love you too y/n, and I’m so sorry it took me almost losing you for me to get my head out of my ass and actually come clean.”

“It’s in the past, let's focus on our future.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Listening to his breathing as he slowly falls asleep, I know that everything is how it should be and that life will continue to get better as long as I have him by my side. I curl into him more, finding comfort in his presence next to me, knowing that all is how it should be and will continue to get better.

Bang Chan | Lee Know | Seo Changbin | Hwang Hyunjin | Lee Felix | Kim Seungmin | Yang Jeongin

@vietjeb , @riri53, @expired-vibes

[tsukii0002]

That Mc and Lucifer did What?

Mc has returned to the human world, everyone's spirits are down, Devildom is duller, sadder and this is directly reflected in the student council. Especially for the seven demons who shared housing with Mc for a year. What no one knows is what happened the last night Mc was in the Devildom.

Extension: 2k words

Warning: Possible grammatical and spelling errors. This is a fic with comic and fluff overtones, not romantic or explicit content as such.

It had been a couple of weeks since the exchange program ended and Mc and the other exchange students returned to their respective realms. And oddly enough, most students had noticed, especially since the student body wasn't the same since the little human left. Mammon no longer looks for business to cash out, Asmo wasn't partying or even uploading photos!!! Satan remains eerily quiet always with a dull look on his face…. Even the prince seemed less lively.

But undoubtedly those who had noticed Mc's absence the most were the seven brothers. The person who had made the House of Lamentations a home, a warm place full of laughter and activity, had left and the six youngest ones seemed like souls in pain. What no one expected was that the eldest of the brothers, Lucifer, also missed the human terribly, their signs of affection, their laughter and their courage to scold him, Lucifer himself.

Throughout that year he had become deeply attached to the human and had wished to become intimate in their relationship to the point of making a pact with them. The last night Mc and Lucifer had made a pact, they had formed a bond that united them beyond the physical, just as his brothers, he had taken the small and “weak” human as his master. Although of course, he would never admit that, and he was not willing to tell it to the world. No one, not even Diavolo, knew that the two had a pact.

That morning, as was becoming customary, the six demons were lying at the student council table, depleted of energy. Lucifer sighed at the attitude of his brothers, but he could not blame them. Diavolo entered, waving, accompanied by Barbatos as usual, however, a second person was following them that morning.

Asmo: Solomon? What are you doing here??

Solomon: I am glad to see you.

Lucifer was looking at the documents distractedly, Solomon was not of special interest to him and he was not going to try to hide it. Diavolo and Barbatos took their respective places and everyone joined in, because, if Solomon was there, was there any chance of seeing Mc soon?

Diavolo: Solomon has come to deliver a list of the new pacts that the Sorcerer's society has made with some demon in the last year.

Satan: Is there a record of that?

Solomon: Yes, at least from the society, we have to keep a record so things don't get out of control.

Diavolo: We can also check if any demons have gone to the human world without permission.

Levi: Lol, nothing escapes the prince of hell.

Asmo: *glancing at Solomon's list* Doesn't that mean we should be on this list too?

Lucifer looked up at his brother's words, frowning, it was true that in recent times records were made of the pacts demons made with humans, but Diavolo had never asked any of his brothers. Mammon joined Asmo, followed by a curious Satan.

Mammon: Ha, there is no pact as incredible as the one of the great Mammon and Mc.

Satan: Don't talk like you're the only one.

Belphie: *joining his brothers* That's right, Mc has a pact with six of us.

Solomon: Ha, ha I still don't quite believe that a human like Mc has accomplished such a feat.

Lucifer could notice a trace of envy in the annoyed sorcerer's words, and a proud smile came across his face.

Beel: So, should we register our pacts as well?

Diavolo: Mmm, I hadn't thought of that, I think the simple fact that six of the lords of hell have made a pact is enough of a record.

Barbatos: I agree.

Solomon laughed, though he clearly looked pissed, Lucifer held back a chuckle.

Belphie: What do you have to do to make a record?

Diavolo: Well it's an official document, so it has several formalities like the terms of the contract.

Solomon: And the reasons why the demon has agreed to make the pact.

Levi: Only the demon? What about the human?

Solomon: Well the price to be paid by the human is usually recorded, but the reasons for making the pact of the demons are more taken into account, since they are the one who is left in a more burnerable position.

Diavolo: Exactly, usually the demons make a pact for power, because they will receive an extraordinary compensation or sometimes, in an extraordinary way, *looking at the brothers* because said human has something that impresses the demon significantly.

Solomon: Like Barbatos with me.

Barbatos: Fu, fu, I guess, although most of your pacts are either for the purpose of gaining power or to get a piece of your soul.

The brothers looked at each other, it was clear why they had made a pact or at least was clear now, sometimes they wondered if someone else had taken Mc's place, would they have done the same?

Satan: And what do you do with the registry?

Solomon: Basically you classify the pacts, depending on the power involved.

Levi: Power? As the characters of a video game?

Solomon: Yes, it depends on the power of the human and the demon, a human with little magical power, even if he has a pact with a moderately powerful demon, will not be very high in the ranking.

Satan: So the ranking depends on the combination… interesting.

Solomon: That's it, although it also depends on the demon, if they are important demons, the ranking would go up.

Diavolo: For example, your pacts would be at the top, just because you are you.

Mammon: Ha, no one could surpass us.

Asmo: As expected *happy*

Solomon: Ha, ha, ha, exactly because if we were talking about power, your pacts would be at the bottom, since Mc has no magic power.

The brothers looked at Solomon sharply, the sorcerer raised his hands in innocence, laughing. Diavolo looked pleased, took the list and glanced at it.

Diavolo: Thank you for taking the trouble to bring them here, Solomon.

Solomon: No problem.

Diavolo: No doubt Mc has surpassed everything imaginable, they are a human full of surprises, they will go down in history for that, but it is true that they are not a powerful sorcerer, it would not make sense to keep a record to monitor the use of their pacts.

Mammon and Asmo, looked at each other annoyed, no one messed with their human, the others looked at them sideways, complicit. Satan took a couple of blank sheets of paper, Belphie and Beel sat next to him, while he started to write and Levi began to speak.

Levi: Well we begin the record of the pacts of Mc the human!!, the one and only incredible human who has achieved the feat of forging pacts with the lords of hell.

Diavolo laughed loudly, clearly delighted with the situation, Solomon and Barbatos too, they were fascinated by the affection those demons had for the Mc, and how they defended them from any kind of attack, harmless or not, as long as they interpreted it as a threat or disrespect to Mc, the brothers would strike back.

Satan: Uniting their soul in a firm and lasting bond to the soul of the demon due to the virtues that have attracted said demon, starting with...

Copying the whole formal part of one of the records the brothers began to enunciate their reasons for making a pact with Mc.

Mammon: The great Mammon the Avatar of Greed!!! Their first, by the cunning and serenity of knowing how to use the weaknesses of their enemies.

Levi: Uooh! *motivated* followed by Leviathan Avatar of Envy, for the bravery to face any battle even if they have to lose, and the pure heart to be friends with their enemies.

The six brothers seemed suddenly animated, Diavolo approached them, enjoying it too much, Solomon also sat nearby, he knew that many epic stories had emerged that way, magnifying an event that had been much simpler.

Beel: I'm next, Beelzebuh Avatar of Gluttony, *grinning like a puppy* for their strength and conviction to protect the people they love.

Okay, that was heartwarming, everyone felt their heart skip a beat.

Asmo: Me, me!!, Asmodeus Avatar of Lust, for their hidden power and determination to get what they want.

Satan: Followed by Satan Avatar of Warth *smile*, for their wisdom and cunning when facing problems and difficulties, and their ability to seek solutions to any problem

Lucifer smiled, they were blowing things way out of proportion, making great epics out of situations that had been simple, even comical in some cases. He had stopped reading documents long ago, though he kept looking at the papers, all his attention was on his siblings.

Belphie: And finally, Belphegor Avatar of Sloth, for their steadfastness to follow what their heart dictates and the kindness to forgive all those who hurt them.

Everyone fell silent. Somehow, almost everyone present had threatened or even tried to murder Mc, they had undervalued them, they had thought their opinion or whatever they thought weighed less, Diavolo looked at the paper, even he had not taken them seriously for being an ordinary human, Solomon put his hand to his chin.

Barbatos: I think it's a lovely record, full of everyone's feelings.

Solomon: No doubt, no one could have come up with something like it.

Lucifer looked at the words of the documents, Mc had achieved much more than making pacts with his brothers, they had done much more than achieve something that not even the most powerful sorcerer had achieved. Mc had healed his family, they had fixed what they in millennia had not dared to fix, they had accepted each of them with their wounds and their bad things, which were not few, and they had loved them unconditionally. He knew it, they owed Mc much, he much more. He smiled, he could write and write everything he felt for Mc, everything he admired about them, everything they had meant in his life, but it wasn't necessary.

Lucifer: And do not forget, Lucifer Avatar of Pride, for repairing and uniting what no one could.

Absolute silence.

WHAAAAAAAAAAT????!!!!!!

Lucifer covered his ears, suddenly everyone had swarmed to his side, firing all sorts of questions at him. His brothers looked upset, even offended, on the other hand Diavolo was smiling from ear to ear, although there was a slight hint of jealousy in his eyes, and Barbatos was watching the scene genuinely surprised. The funniest thing of all was to see Solomon with his mouth open, and that indescribable expression. Mc had done it, they had done what no wizard, witch or human of any kind had ever accomplished, they had made a pact with Lucifer Morningstar, and not only that, they had completed the task of making a pact with the seven brothers, the seven lords of hell.

Mammon: What do you mean Lucifer? ????!

Levi: Are you an idiot, Mammon? Well you are... not fair Lucifer...

Asmo: Kyaaaa how??!! How did you form a pact??

Beel: He, he, so Lucifer too.

Belphie: When?! I'm sure Mc would have told us!

Satan: And why did you keep it so hidden??

Solomon still hadn't recovered, he put a hand to his head with a half smile, Diavolo was next to him with a similar expression.

Diavolo: I never thought this day would come.

Lucifer felt his chest swell with pride, he really felt his sin in all its splendor. Despite this he tried to look disinterested, returning to his documents.

Lucifer: Well it was the last night.

Belphie: That's why Mc didn't come back??! Because they were making a pact with you???!

Lucifer: Oh *grinning mischievously* we did a lot more than just that.

All: !!!

While all the brothers, Diavolo and Solomon included, began to make a fuss, looking for answers, Lucifer laughed with pleasure, no doubt if there was some kind of competition to measure the pacts with Mc, he had won it. Barbatos, recovered from the surprise, laughed too, it was not unusual to see the brothers so upset but it was certainly gratifying to see the sorcerer like that. A beep made him look at his cell phone, he had sent a message to a certain Lucifer obsessed archangel.

“That Mc and Lucifer did what?”

.

.

It's one of the scenarios I've given the most thought to since I played the first and second seasons four years ago. How everyone found out about Mc and Lucifer's pact. Honestly I have many different situations for this scenario, but this one has been chosen to share with you😂😂😂😂. In the future I might write the other scenarios, going for more spicy content or more angs, etc. Who knows.

Still I hope that if you have made it this far you have enjoyed it, thanks for reading. 🩷

.

.

[scarfacemarston]

Teacher!Natasha x Teacher!Reader Oneshot

For Lesbian Visibility Week! If you enjoyed this, please note and reblog! Feel free to send other prompts or requests! Prompt: The students come into your classroom complaining about Natasha as a teacher not knowing you're her wife. This is version 1. You sighed as you glanced at the digital clock on your computer. Damn. Your planning period was almost over, and you really needed to finish grading these essays. Soon, you would be back to teaching your high school history classes for the day. The period ended far too quickly as students began to file their way into the classroom, discussing this and that. You were so engrossed in your work that you were hardly paying attention until you heard “Ms. Romanoff” mentioned not once, not twice, but in a string of sentences. Oh boy. Ms. Romanoff was one of the more controversial teachers at the school known for her no-nonsense attitude, sternness and sarcasm , but she was also fair with a dry sense of humor. “Why did I take international politics as an elective? Oh, that’s right, I thought it would look good on my transcript!” One student said sarcastically. “She’s so nitpicky! I got an A-. AN A MINUS!” “Hers is the only class I don’t fall asleep in anymore. Not since….last time.” “She’s so strict even the Macklin brothers shut up.” “She’s terrifying. I heard she used to be an undercover agent in the CIA”. You smirked at that one. You should probably look into that rumor. “A spy? Shut-up, man. Who’s going to believe that?” “I heard she was a failed actress.” “I heard she voiced the Russian Siri.” “I heard she’s a rich heiress that lost all her cash.” “Look, guys, I don’t care. She just ripped our class to shreds.I just can’t right now. Nearly the entire class failed her last test. These test corrections are going to take all night.” “At least you’re allowed test corrections! We’re her AP class and the only way we can make up points is through a new essay.” “She’s scary. I swear” “I think she knows what I’m thinking and then that makes me think more and then she thinks what I’m thinking and that thinking makes my head hurt.” “I was ONE minute late to class and she gave me a late slip!” “One time my grandma called me in class, and she made me pick it up.” You shot a quick text to Natasha before the bell rang. Her classroom was two doors down from yours since you two were technically in the same department. Time to log off your grading program and begin class. You pulled out the binder with today’s lesson plans ready to begin. “Wow, you all are full of comments about Ms Romanoff today.” You said neutrally. “Miss Y/N, you don’t understand. She’s so ….uh, extra.” You withheld a smirk. Natasha wasn’t what you would call extra, but she was set in her ways.” “I don’t think she’s extra. I think she just has high standards.” You responded. One of the students rolled their eyes.

"Do you all talk about me like this when I'm not here?"

"Nooo Ms. Y/N, we would never!"

"Well, maybe you could extend the same courtesy to my wife next time," you said, withholding a laugh. The room fell silent. A pin could have dropped.

“Fuck” you heard someone say under their breath. “Language”, you chastised, but you couldn’t say you blamed them. You saw the students in various forms of awkward shuffling, a cough here or there or “Ummm” or “Uhh” as students tried to form sentences. “Wait, you’re married?” a student questioned before being glared at by the others. Your fourth period class was near silent for the rest of the period, with the students seemingly still in shock. One minute til the bell rang. You saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of your eye. Thirty seconds. Natasha knocked on the door. “Hey, you, we’re all ordering from Robert’s Deli for lunch. You want your usual or will you finally try something new?” Natasha teased. The class whipped their heads collectively towards the door. It was becoming harder not to laugh. Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on, Y/n?” “Oh, you’re scaring my class, dear!” You said, smiling widely. Natasha scoffed. “Dear, huh? Oh, so they found out, didn’t they? As if us entering the building together and leaving together in the same car wasn’t hint enough that we’re married.  Yeah, I might have scared a few of them. It was well deserved, trust me, Isn’t that right, Reynolds?” Jason Reynolds sank down into his seat, not meeting Natasha’s eyes. The bell rang. The students couldn’t scramble enough as they grabbed their bags and rushed past Natasha. You gave a small laugh as you finally met Natasha. “You’re a mean woman, you know that?” “Hey, you texted me, babe.” “It was great, not gonna lie. Sorry the “secret” is out.” “It’s not like we’re closeted, we’re simply professional. I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner….or maybe I’m not.” Natasha muttered. Your stomach growled. “Alright, I’ll look up the menu. Find something new to try for once. Promise.” You said in response to your stomach. Natasha nodded. “Don’t want you to scare the next class because you’re hungry.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 14: The Raw Moments

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: deadlines are getting close

Welcome to the chapter 14 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

It was a Friday afternoon when Coach Geno pulled Paige and me aside during practice. The usual buzz of sneaker squeaks and bouncing balls faded as he looked between us, his face serious but not unkind. The team had wrapped up their drills for the day, and the only sound now was the distant hum of the locker room.

"Alright, you two," Coach began, clearing his throat. "We've all seen the way you've been handling your relationship—on and off the court."

Paige and I exchanged a quick glance, tension creeping up my spine. We’d been trying to find our rhythm, but with the added pressure of being in a relationship while still playing for one of the top programs in the country, it hadn’t always been easy.

Coach continued. "I know there’s been a lot of attention on you both, but I’m not here to lecture. What I want to know is if you're solid. Are you working together, in all aspects, as a team? Can you keep it together both on and off the court?"

My heart pounded in my chest. This wasn’t a question I expected, not from Coach Geno. He had a reputation for being tough, but he cared about the team more than anyone.

"Coach," Paige spoke up, her voice steady but with a flicker of concern. "We’re solid. We’ve had our moments, but we’re figuring it out."

I nodded quickly, my nerves catching up with me. "Yeah, we’re good. We’re definitely good."

Coach didn’t seem entirely convinced, but his eyes softened. "Alright, good. You two are important to this team. But remember, balancing your personal life and basketball is key. Don’t let one fall apart because of the other."

"Understood, Coach," Paige said with a slight grin, her usual confidence returning.

I couldn’t help but breathe a little easier as Coach turned back toward the court.

As the weeks went on, Paige and I settled into our relationship more comfortably. Our bond strengthened not just in private, but in public too. We started to film TikToks together—goofy dances, behind-the-scenes footage from games, and candid moments where we weren’t playing the role of the perfect athlete and photographer, but two people just enjoying each other’s company.

Soon, the rest of the team joined in, and what began as a way for Paige and me to spend time together turned into something bigger. Kk became our unofficial child in the eyes of the fans, mostly because of her playful commentary whenever she appeared on our TikTok. People joked that Paige, at 23, and I, at 21, were the "parents" while Kk, at 19, was our sassy teen daughter. The comments flooded in, and the fans ate it up.

One night, after a particularly intense game against one of our biggest rivals, I sat in the team’s common area, editing the play-back footage for the team's film recap. I had been working on my final project for weeks, but I still felt like something was missing—something more personal, something raw that could truly show the essence of this team. That’s when the idea hit me.

"Paige," I called, her laugh ringing out as she exited the locker room. "I think I know what we need for my project."

She raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "What’s that?"

"I want to capture the rawness—the moments where we’re not just teammates, but friends. The moments that don't make the highlight reel, you know?" I explained, spinning around in my chair. "So I’m going to get disposable cameras and digital ones for the team to use."

Paige’s face lit up with excitement. "That’s actually such a good idea."

"I want everyone to take two days with the digital cameras and capture whatever stands out to them," I continued. "The disposable ones, they’re just for whatever happens until the film runs out. I want them to leave personal messages, too—on the digital cameras."

The next day, I handed out the cameras to the team before practice. They all seemed a little confused at first, but they quickly understood the concept when I explained it.

"Alright, guys, listen up," I said, trying to suppress my smile. "These are for your personal moments. Capture the silly stuff, the quiet moments, the ones you want to remember. Don’t try to make it perfect—just be yourselves."

Ashlynn raised her hand. "Can we take selfies?"

I laughed. "Absolutely. Take all the selfies you want."

The team scattered, taking their assigned cameras and heading off to get some shots. I watched as Kk snapped a picture of Morgan and Sarah laughing over a game of cards, and Azzi caught a candid moment of Paige stretching before practice. Everyone had their own unique take on the task, and it was exactly what I had hoped for.

The next couple of days were filled with moments of pure joy and rawness. I spent hours on end going through the photos, picking out the ones that captured the heart of the team. There were pictures of Kk making faces at the camera, Aubrey holdings up a fist pump after scoring a basket in practice, and Azzi capturing Paige’s wild, carefree energy as she danced between drills.

But the most memorable shots were the ones taken of Paige and me. There were close-ups of us laughing over lunch, an accidental shot of our hands brushing while we walked to practice, and a picture of us sitting in the bleachers during a team meeting.

The Digital Messages

After the second round of digital camera shots, I set aside some time for everyone to leave personal messages. Paige went first. I watched as she smiled softly at the camera, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Y/N, I’m glad we’re doing this. You’ve been such a big part of this team, but you’re also a big part of my life. I can’t wait to see where we go from here."

I grinned, feeling my heart swell at her words.

Azzi, who was sitting next to Paige, smirked at the camera. "Look, you two are adorable, but if you break up, I’m taking Y/N as my new best friend. Got it?"

I rolled my eyes, laughing. "Noted, Azzi."

As the team wrapped up with the cameras, I sat with Paige on the bench, going through the footage one last time. She leaned her head on my shoulder, and for a moment, everything felt so peaceful.

"I can’t believe how well this turned out," I said, looking up at her. "I think it’s going to be exactly what I need for my project."

Paige smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "It’s perfect. Just like us."

A few days later, I sent out a teaser clip to my followers, showing behind-the-scenes footage of the team. Fans were blown away by the rawness of the moments—the way the team connected on and off the court, the way Paige and I clearly supported each other both as teammates and something more. The comments flooded in, some asking about our relationship, some calling us the power couple of UConn basketball.

Kk jokingly posted a video of herself and Ice, holding up a sign that read: "Official UConn Parent's Day—Paige, Y/N, and our unofficial child, Kk." Fans loved it, and our relationship became even more public. The next time we went live, the fans were ecstatic, sending us messages asking about everything from our favorite snacks to how we manage time together while balancing our crazy schedules.

This project had turned into something much bigger than I ever anticipated. And for the first time in a while, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be—with Paige, with the team, and with the love we shared.

It was raw, it was messy, but it was real. And that was exactly what I needed.

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       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 ,.... (more to be added)

[burekforsatoru]

are you still watching?

sebastian (stardew valley)/f!reader | read it on ao3 sebastian suggests a movie night to unwind after a long week... slutty froggy pjs shenanigans ensue wc: 2.5k tags: fluff and smut, oral, face-fucking, overstim

fall never stops making sure i have the least amount of free time possible. it is ruthless, with storms and ruined crops, with all the days my poor animals cannot go outside.

it’s exhausting, fixing all of those messes, but i refuse to let sebastian throw himself into it with me. he’s got enough on his plate with the game he’s developing, still doing his freelance programming. he offers, of course, it wouldn’t be him if he didn’t itch to help me when he sees me all exhausted and muddy after a stressful day.

so when he suggests we have a movie night, just us two, one friday evening instead of going to the saloon–i jump on the opportunity. that morning as soon as those words left his mouth i was melting into his embrace. careful, froggy, you’ll spill coffee all over yourself , he chuckles as i quickly steady my hand, placing the mug carefully on the side and wrap my arms around his pale neck. the kiss is so warm, soft, full of understanding. i fix my beanie and finish the coffee before heading out to work, now with a bounce in my step.

the fields are a mess. weeds have taken over some of my pumpkins, making me curse the shit out of them as i carefully remove them, spending hours on my knees in the mud. once it gets dark, i run back inside, barely escaping the rain that starts chasing me. i murmur a grumpy greeting to sebastian, who was already in his pyjamas and on the couch, setting up a movie for us to watch. the blankets are carefully arranged around him, uncovering the very spot on his body where i usually slide onto his lap to cuddle while we relax before sleep.

i hurry into the bathroom, shouting i’ll only be a few minutes, i really need a hot shower. he responds with his signature chuckle, having already found a movie for us to ignore while we make out or fall asleep.

the shower relaxes my muscles, soothes my skin, washes out all the dirt from my hair and face. i walk out a new person, fresh and clean and ready to sink into our soft couch, wrapped into a cocoon of blankets. a new person – that forgot her clean underwear and pyjamas in the bedroom.

okay so maybe not completely new. still the same scatterbrained me that sebastian always promises he fell in love with so ridiculously hard and fast it’s a miracle his bones aren’t still broken.

so, with my fresh and clean body wrapped in a bath towel, i pad my way to the bedroom, passing between the tv and sebastian where he’s still sitting in the very same position on the couch, the blankets uncovering my seat. those silly frog pyjamas on, slightly pushed down as his hand is placed around his hard cock that he’s gently stroking. i walk into the bedroom and–

oh …

with a slightly embarrassed expression, i retrace my steps until i’m closer to him.

“baby…” i drawl, my eyes falling down to where his thumb slowly rubs over his cock head, so sweetly like he’s caressing a lover.

“yes, froggy?” oh there’s a layer of smugness in that voice. he knows what he’s doing to me, sees my throat bobbing while i swallow saliva gathering at an alarming rate.

“baby why… you’re not even waiting for me?” reluctantly, i lift my gaze to meet his pretty eyes, noticing the self-satisfied smirk as he watches me struggle.

my hand grips the edges of the towel tighter, holding on for dear life as i try not to immediately look down at his cock again, that pretty, girthy thing just begging to be kissed.

“i’ve been sitting like this since before you walked back in, pretty. you just didn’t notice me.” that thumb rubbing over his tip slides back down and he keeps stroking himself up and down. my heartbeat quickens, the air becomes thicker, my mouth is suddenly too empty. all i can think about right now is licking a long strip along his shaft and making him moan out loud. “c’mere,” he pats his lap, the pattern of cartoon frogs on the fabric covering his thighs almost making the situation comical, if it weren’t for his deliciously spread thighs and the outline of his balls under the bunched up material under his cock.

it takes me a couple of seconds to remember how to move my feet. walking is harder now than it was just a minute ago when i took quick, fleeting steps towards our bedroom.

i leave slightly damp footprints, my skin is still wet from the shower, but i drop the towel that was keeping me covered up as soon as i reach his legs. the fluffy blue fabric pools on the floor and i sink to my knees. his hand doesn’t slow down its movements on his pretty cock, but i boldly lean in and lick a slow stripe to his tip, feeling him twitch ever so slightly on my tongue.

the taste of his skin lingers on the tip of my tongue as he pulls his cock up a little, allowing me to grab the bunched up fabric and pull down those pyjama bottoms, freeing his balls that i quickly take into my warm mouth, one by one. his knee bounces then, at the same time as the back of his head meets the back of the couch.

sebastian lets out a pretty moan as i gently suck on one testicle while holding the other in my hand, tenderly caressing it while keeping my eyes on his bobbing throat. letting out a little hum i snap his attention back to me. back to how my tongue swirls over him. he releases his cock, letting me take over. carefully, lovingly, i hold it in the same way he did, leaning forward a little to press a gentle kiss to the head before sliding it between my lips, inside the warmth that is my mouth, a wet pretty hole for him to savor the feeling of.

“fuuuuck, you’re gonna be good for me, yeah?” i look up at him as he speaks, my eyes wide and doe-like, the way i know drives him insane.

i briefly nod, of course i’ll be good for him , and sink him deeper into my warm mouth, down to my limit. his hips buck upwards a little, having me nearly swallow him whole. obediently, i remove my hand from his shaft and place both my palms onto his thighs.

i take one more breath before his hands caress my wet hair, holding onto it firmly with those long, slender fingers.

“ready?” his voice is ragged already, the need is practically dripping from his every word. i nod in reply, letting him take the lead.

my throat relaxes just in time, for he starts moving me along his cock, using my sweet mouth as a toy while my lips close around his girth.

drool collects at the corners of my lips, and he keeps going, slipping curses and praises alike between his bitten lips, telling me just how beautiful he finds me as i’m swallowing his needy cock. sebastian looks as if he’s ascending, like he’s touching heaven through the pearly gates of my teeth.

my eyes stay peeled, watching as his eyelids flutter shut, dragging out long curses while he picks up the pace, now lifting his hips in time with moving my head. the back of my throat is already sore, but i hang on, letting him use me to his full pleasure, giving him my face to fuck whenever he wants it.

“pretty… ah pretty girl… i’m– ohhh i’m gonna cum, okay?”

a pathetic little whimper leaves my lips, pools around the base of his cock as he asks my permission, as always. it’s always a yes, or a little whining noise, always an imperative that i taste his sticky cum on my tongue and drink it like it’s the elixir of life. 

his grip tightens in my hair, the movements of his hips get more erratic as he reaches his peak, spilling his release into my mouth, making my throat constrict as i swallow around his thick cock head. sebastian’s voice is raspy, broken as he exhales, groaning lowly. he twitches while my mouth takes in everything he gives me.

sebastian gently caresses the top of my head, breathing heavily as he comes down from the intense high, lowering his eyes to meet mine as he grins.

“there we go,” his breathless voice comes out soft, loving, “so good for me, so good .”

slowly, i lift my head, letting his pink tip pop out from my pouty lips with a soft sound. it’s all slick with my saliva, shining under the lights of our living room. i press a gentle kiss to it, smirking as he twitches and gasps from such soft contact.

my towel stays on the floor as sebastian pulls me up into his lap. my legs slot beside him, straddling his bare hips as i lean down to kiss him. it’s impossible to stifle the giggle that leaves me when he smacks my ass, jiggling the flesh with his strong palm. he helps me, lifting my hips to let me sit on his pretty cock, still hard as he enters me, making me throw my head back and groan.

he joins me, cursing under his breath as i sink down onto him again, the familiar stretch never getting old. 

“fuuuck, pretty, that’s it,” he drawls, holding me by the waist as i settle, “that’s my good girl. can’t just give you one load, can it?” his head snaps back to look at me as i trail my hands up his torso and under the pyjama top.

“been feeling needy, hmm?” i tease, a smirk painted on my face as he beckons me with a quick motion of his chin.

“you’ve no idea, froggy… i nearly started without you.” with that confession he reaches my lips, capturing them in a hard kiss as his hips buck upwards into me. 

i whine, rolling my hips against sebastian’s as his hands grip me tighter, pulling me against him harder and rougher than before. needily, he wraps those arms around me, bringing me closer and fucking into me faster. he pulls moan after moan from my throat, letting me breathe only to bite delicious bruises into my collar bones.

my breasts bounce against him, grazing his skin with my nipples with each hard thrust of his sweet tip against my soft walls. it’s almost unfair how quickly he has me unraveling, shaking, and stuttering right here on his lap as he relentlessly moves.

“ ah– fuck, i’m gonna–” i attempt, gasping as he bruises me, leaning lower to take my nipple into his mouth and hum around it. 

“ mmm come on, pretty, i’ve got you.” he murmurs, vibrating my sensitive nub and sending me over the line. my warm walls contract, i shake and i whimper as he moans, switching to the other breast, biting the plump flesh and continuing his quick thrusts. “good girl, there we go,” he releases my breast from his mouth, kissing where he bit earlier, “you can give me another, yeah? one more… just one more.” sebastian doesn’t wait for me to come down from my high, he pulls me down against him more desperately, so wanting as my weeping cunt swallows him over and over as he grunts into my chest. 

relentlessly, he pulls me by the hips faster, overstimulating me to high heavens as his cock prods at my sweet spots with every move. yoba, i always forget how good it feels, no matter how many times we do this. especially when he gets like this, insanely horny like we haven't fucked in a month.

i don't know whether to curse or praise his high sex drive when he flips me over onto my back, immediately climbing over me to push my knees almost up to my chest. 

the cushion seams of the couch dig into my back, but i can't pay attention to them, to anything that isn't sebastian. like in a daze, he leans over me and kisses me tenderly while pushing his thick cock into me again. different angle, getting so much deeper as he kneels on the couch. i moan directly into his mouth and the sound almost invigorates him.

he thrusts into me with the energy of a hundred shots of espresso, desperate to feel my warm, soft walls close up around him, tightening like a vice to keep him inside and drain him of all his pent up energy. 

the lewd sound gets louder with each passing second, skin against skin, his balls against the plump flesh of my ass. it’s so loud, so hypnotizing, rhythmic beat paired with heavy breaths from sebastian’s lips and whiny curses falling from my mouth.

already getting overstimulated, having been pushed into the next high from the first one, i’m whimpering under his touch. he presses his fingertips into my skin, leaving little indents as he holds on for dear life, anchoring himself in me as if he’s not actively punishing my sweet spot with his relentless cock head. 

eyes rolling back, head dipping into the pillow, i shake. gripping his arms pressed into the cushions beside my head, i squirm, my whines get higher in pitch as he curses, leaning in to drag his sweet lips against mine.

“fuck… fuck , pretty i’m gonna– you gonna cum with me?” his syrupy voice drips onto my tongue as i moan, grabbing at his back to pull him closer, pressing him against the backs of my thighs as his hips falter.

a few more rough thrusts against my soaked pussy and he’s done, groaning when my cunt pulls him in, keeps him inside where he’s warm and welcome. holding him tightly to ensure every drop of his release is contained inside me, where it should be. 

our breaths soften, heartbeats slow down, our foreheads connect. his lips start looking for mine, desperate for tender kisses while i lower my shaking legs, feet finally finding purchase around his waist. i hold him close, gently, carefully. sebastian melts on top of me, finally spent as his energy fizzles out.

“longest… week… ever…” he mumbles, lazily kissing me as my legs keep him still, keep him inside me warm and snug.

“never going a week without sex again…” i agree, weakly returning kiss after kiss, gliding my foot over his hips, down to his mid-thighs where his sloppily pulled down froggy pyjama bottoms sit. 

the screen changes and i catch it from the corner of my eye. we’ve completely ignored the film sebastian put on earlier and now the screen is darkened with a passive aggressive message in the center, are you still watching?

sebastian snorts, turning his head away from the screen and resting against me.

“i ain’t watching shit unless it’s my wife’s tits bouncing, thanks, nutflix.” he murmurs, a smug half-smile stretching his lips as he checks for my reaction.

“you need sleep,” i giggle weakly, feeling his weight on my chest, “you’re talking nonsense again.”

“shhhh,” his finger finds its way to my lips, resting on them as his breathing slows, “love you too, froggy.”

i chuckle, resting my eyes as we settle down. “love you baby.”

[sleepberries]

Hello!!! How r you doing?

Hear me out on a fic idea =Jason's relationship reveal I'm DYING for something based on that line from last week: "So when Jason had casually dropped during family dinner three nights ago that he was "seeing someone,""

Could you PLEASE write what happened durin dinner? I need to see the family realizing our boy Jason is actually serious about someone!! I'm just imagining Jason getting more annoyed as they keep prying

Hope you have a wonderful day💖💖

hello !! i'm doing well tyy ( ꈍ◡ꈍ) sorry this took so long to get up, i did already have a basic draft but i wanted to make sure it was just right bc i was also super excited to envision this scenario. thank you <3 this takes place soon after the fic "you belong with me" and just before "tim's research project"

The Wayne Manor dining room maintained its usual imposing air, all polished mahogany and gleaming silver, despite the distinctly un-imposing conversation currently taking place around the table.

"—and then he just stands there, covered in purple goo, and says 'Well, at least it's my color.'" Dick concluded, his hands gesturing wildly to illustrate the story.

Damian scoffed, pushing around the vegetables on his plate with studied disinterest. "Grayson, your choice in companions continues to disappoint."

"Come on, Dami. Gar's funny," Dick protested, though his smile never wavered.

"If by 'funny' you mean 'chronically incapable of maintaining dignity in combat situations,' then yes, I suppose he is," Damian retorted.

Tim glanced up from his tablet—positioned just far enough away from his plate to avoid Alfred's disapproval—and smirked. "That's rich coming from someone who spent last Thursday trapped in a billboard advertisement for cheese."

A dangerous glint appeared in Damian's eyes. "Drake, if you value the continued function of that device—"

"Boys." Bruce's voice, though quiet, cut through the brewing argument with practiced efficiency. "Not at dinner."

The room fell silent for approximately three seconds before Stephanie, undeterred as always by Bruce's attempts at decorum, leaned forward with a grin.

"Okay, but can we circle back to the part where Damian got stuck in a giant cheese billboard? Because I need details."

"The adhesive properties of the substance were unexpected," Damian muttered defensively. "It was a tactical miscalculation."

"It was hilarious," Tim corrected, finally setting his tablet aside. "We should have left you there."

"We considered it," Cass confirmed with a small smile, speaking for the first time since they'd sat down. Her eyes danced with amusement as she met Damian's glare.

Jason, who had been unusually quiet throughout dinner, snorted into his wine glass. "Please tell me someone got pictures."

"Oracle has the security cam footage," Dick offered with a grin. "High definition."

"Timothy, I will end you," Damian hissed, but there was less venom in it than usual.

Alfred appeared at Jason's elbow, offering more roast potatoes with a perfectly impassive expression that nonetheless conveyed his opinion on threatening murder at the dinner table.

"Thanks, Alfie," Jason murmured, accepting the serving with a nod.

Bruce, perhaps sensing the imminent descent into another round of bickering, cleared his throat. "How are things in Park Row, Jason?"

It was a transparent attempt to redirect conversation, but Jason allowed it, setting down his fork. "Quiet. Crime stats are down since we shut down the Maroni operation last month."

"And the new community center?" Bruce pressed.

"Opening next week. The foundation's grant came through."

Bruce nodded, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his features. "Good."

"The kids are excited," Jason added, his voice softening slightly. "They've already signed up forty for the after-school program."

Tim noted the change in tone with interest. Jason rarely let his guard down about anything, but the kids in his neighborhood were a notable exception. For all his hard edges, Jason's protective streak ran bone-deep, especially when it came to children growing up like he had.

"You should bring your new painting class to the manor sometime," Dick suggested. "The grounds would make a good subject."

Jason's eyebrow rose. "What, and expose innocent kids to this circus? I'm trying to keep them out of therapy, Dickhead."

"Speaking of therapy," Stephanie interjected, "how's the anger management going?"

"Fantastic," Jason deadpanned. "I only fantasized about shooting three people at this table today."

"Progress," Bruce muttered into his water glass, startling a laugh out of Dick.

"He made a joke," Stephanie stage-whispered to Tim. "Alert the media."

Alfred reappeared to clear plates, the subtle choreography of dinner at Wayne Manor proceeding with its usual precision. Tim watched as Jason helped stack dishes—a habit from his early days back from the dead, when being useful had seemed like the only way to justify his presence in spaces that once felt like home.

"Desert will be served momentarily," Alfred announced. "Master Timothy, perhaps you might remove your technological appendage from the table entirely."

Tim hastily tucked his tablet away, ignoring Damian's smirk.

"How about you, Tim?" Dick asked, leaning back in his chair. "I heard you've been burning the midnight oil on some new project."

"Just updating security protocols," Tim said vaguely. "Nothing exciting."

"Lies," Stephanie countered. "You've been doing that thing where you forget meals exist. Again."

"Some of us have actual responsibilities, Brown," Damian said, somehow making the statement sound both condescending and defensive of Tim, a paradox only Damian could achieve.

Tim shot him a surprised look. "Was that... support?"

"It was an observation," Damian clarified coldly. "Don't read into it."

"Too late," Dick grinned. "I saw it. You care."

"I require Drake's moderate competence for mission success," Damian insisted. "Nothing more."

"Aww, the demon brat has feelings," Jason drawled, but the teasing lacked its usual edge.

Cass tilted her head, studying Jason with that unnerving perception that always made Tim feel like she was reading code directly from his brain. "You're different," she stated simply.

All eyes turned to Jason, who stiffened minutely. "What?"

"Different," Cass repeated, gesturing vaguely toward him. "You seem lighter."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table as Jason's expression shuttered. Tim watched with fascination as his brother's body language shifted—the subtle straightening of his spine, the careful arrangement of his features into practiced nonchalance.

"Good pasta will do that to you," Jason deflected, but the joke fell flat.

Bruce was watching him now too, with that analytical gaze that meant he was cataloging details, filing away observations for later consideration. Even Damian had abandoned his customary scowl in favor of curious attention.

"She's right," Dick said slowly. "You've been... I don't know, less prickly lately?"

"Compared to what, a cactus?" Jason snorted, but there was a tension in his shoulders now, the kind that usually preceded either a fight or a hasty exit.

Tim recognized the signs. Jason was about to bolt, uncomfortable with being the center of scrutiny. Without fully thinking it through, Tim spoke up, providing a potential escape route.

"Maybe he's finally getting enough sleep. Novel concept, I know."

But instead of taking the offered deflection, Jason made a decision. Tim saw it happen—a brief calculation, a measured breath, and then that particular set to his jaw that meant Jason Todd was about to do something even he wasn't entirely sure about.

"Actually," Jason said, and the carefully casual tone sent an immediate ping to Tim's internal alert system, "I've been seeing someone."

The statement dropped like a stone into still water, ripples of surprise expanding outward around the table. Tim froze with his water glass halfway to his mouth, analyzing Jason's delivery—too rehearsed to be impulsive, too offhand to be meaningless.

Dick recovered first, his face breaking into a delighted grin. "Really? That's great, Little Wing!"

"Who is it?" Stephanie demanded, leaning forward with undisguised interest. "Anyone we know?"

"Just someone I met a while back," Jason said with a shrug that was so studiedly indifferent it practically screamed significance. "It's not a big deal."

But it was. Tim could see it in the tension around Jason's eyes, the barely perceptible shift in his posture—defensive but determined, like he was expecting an attack but had decided to stand his ground anyway.

"Do they know about your night job?" Bruce asked, his expression unreadable.

A flash of annoyance crossed Jason's face. "Yes, he does."

The emphasized pronoun wasn't lost on anyone, but nobody reacted beyond Bruce's slight nod. Jason's sexuality had never been a secret or a surprise; it was just another fact about him, like his preference for chocolate over vanilla or guns over batarangs.

"Are they in our... industry?" Tim asked carefully, his mind already running calculations, cross-referencing recent cases where Jason might have encountered another vigilante.

"Something like that," Jason replied, something softening imperceptibly in his expression. "He understands the life."

The evasiveness was typical Jason, but there was something else in his voice—a trace of warmth that Jason rarely allowed himself to display, especially in this house. It made Tim's investigative instincts prickle with interest.

"How long?" Cass asked simply.

Jason hesitated, just for a fraction of a second. "Few months."

"Months?" Dick echoed, looking genuinely surprised. "And you're just telling us now?"

"Not like I need your approval, Dickface," Jason retorted, but there was less bite in it than usual.

"Of course not," Dick said quickly. "I'm just... happy for you."

And he was, Tim realized. Dick's expression had that particular earnest quality that couldn't be faked—genuine pleasure at the idea that Jason had found someone. Bruce, too, seemed satisfied rather than concerned, relaxing slightly in his chair.

"Is he good to you?" Cass asked, direct as always.

The question hung in the air for a moment. Under normal circumstances, Jason would have scoffed at such a query, deflected with sarcasm or outright hostility. But instead, a small, almost involuntary smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "He is."

The simple honesty in those two words was more revealing than anything else Jason could have said. Tim filed the information away, noting the unusual vulnerability with growing curiosity.

"Does he have a name, or is that classified?" Stephanie asked, grinning.

"None of your business, Blondie," Jason replied, but it lacked heat.

"How did you meet?" Dick pressed, clearly sensing that Jason was actually willing to talk, a rare enough occurrence to be worth pursuing.

Jason took a sip of his wine, considering. "Ran into each other on a case. Arms dealers, moving product between cities."

"And what? Love at first fight?" Stephanie teased.

"More like mutual irritation," Jason corrected, but there was amusement in his eyes now. "He wouldn't shut up. Just kept making these terrible jokes while taking down guys twice his size."

"Sounds like someone else I know," Bruce murmured, glancing meaningfully at Dick, who clutched his chest in mock offense.

"My jokes are excellent," Dick protested.

Damian sniffed disdainfully. "That you believe this only confirms your poor judgment, Grayson."

"Says the kid who thinks 'tt' is a witty comeback," Tim countered, earning a glare from Damian.

Jason watched the exchange with something that might have been fondness if he'd allow himself to admit it. "Anyway," he continued, drawing attention back to himself, "we kept running into each other. Eventually decided to team up instead of getting in each other's way."

"And then?" Stephanie prompted when Jason fell silent.

Jason shrugged again, but this time the casualness felt less forced. "And then we got takeout. Then coffee. Then..." he trailed off, gesturing vaguely.

"Then horizontal refreshment," Stephanie supplied helpfully.

"Stephanie!" Bruce admonished while Dick choked on his water.

"What? We're all adults here." She paused, glancing at Damian. "Mostly."

"I am not a child, Brown," Damian growled.

"Regardless," Bruce interrupted firmly, "some decorum would be appreciated."

Jason just smirked, apparently enjoying Bruce's discomfort. "What's wrong, old man? Can't handle the idea of your kids having lives?"

"I am perfectly aware that my children have lives," Bruce replied with dignity. "I simply prefer not to discuss certain aspects of those lives over dessert."

As if summoned by the word, Alfred reappeared with a tray bearing a chocolate torte that momentarily distracted everyone from the conversation. Tim watched as Jason visibly relaxed, clearly relieved to have the spotlight shift away from his revelation.

But Tim's mind was already working, processing the new information with methodical precision. Jason had been seeing someone for months—someone in their line of work, someone he'd met during a case involving arms dealers moving between cities. Someone who made jokes during fights, who was strong enough to take down much larger opponents, and who clearly understood the vigilante lifestyle well enough that Jason felt comfortable bringing him up at all.

Most importantly, someone who made Jason's voice soften when he spoke about him, who put that tiny, reluctant smile on his face. Someone who mattered.

As Alfred placed a slice of torte in front of him, Tim made a mental note to start researching as soon as dinner concluded. Not because he didn't trust Jason's judgment (though history suggested some healthy skepticism was warranted), but because if someone had managed to earn not just Jason's attention but his affection—his genuine, unguarded affection—Tim needed to know who they were.

"So," Dick said, breaking into Tim's thoughts, "when do we get to meet him?"

The question was asked casually, but Tim didn't miss the way Jason's shoulders tensed again, how his expression returned to carefully neutral territory.

"You don't," Jason said flatly.

"Oh, come on," Dick cajoled. "Just a quick introduction. I promise to be on my best behavior."

"Your best behavior is exactly what I'm worried about," Jason retorted. "Last thing I need is you trying to show off or, God forbid, sharing childhood stories."

"I would never," Dick gasped in mock outrage, then immediately contradicted himself by turning to Stephanie. "Did I ever tell you about the time Jason got stuck in the chandelier trying to recreate my quadruple somersault?"

"Grayson, I will end you," Jason growled, the threat undermined by the slight flush creeping up his neck.

"See? This is why he's never coming here," Jason added, gesturing around the table with his fork. "You're all disasters."

"Pot, kettle," Tim murmured, earning a glare from Jason.

"Besides," Jason continued, "he's got his own city. His own... family situation. It's complicated."

Another piece of information to file away, Tim noted. Not just any vigilante, but one with territorial responsibilities and family connections—possibly another legacy hero.

"Well, whenever you're ready," Dick said, more gently this time, "we'd love to meet him."

Jason looked momentarily surprised by the sincerity, then covered it with a scoff. "Yeah, we'll see."

But he didn't outright refuse, Tim noticed. Another significant detail.

The conversation gradually shifted to other topics—an upcoming charity gala Bruce was dreading, a new training regimen Dick wanted to implement, Damian's latest artistic project (which he refused to describe in any detail, arousing immediate suspicion). Throughout it all, Tim observed Jason, noting how he seemed both more relaxed and more guarded than usual, the contradiction fitting for someone who had just voluntarily shared something personal but was already calculating how to protect it.

Later, as they moved to the library for coffee, Tim caught Jason alone for a moment near the bookshelves.

"So," Tim said quietly, "serious enough to mention at family dinner?"

Jason's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Don't start, Replacement."

"I'm not starting anything," Tim assured him, hands raised in a placating gesture. "Just... it's good. Seeing you happy."

Jason studied him for a moment, searching for mockery or ulterior motives. Finding none, he gave a short nod. "Thanks," he said gruffly.

"For what it's worth," Tim added carefully, "whoever he is, he must be pretty special."

A shadow of that same small, involuntary smile crossed Jason's face. "Yeah," he admitted, voice pitched low enough that only Tim could hear. "He is."

The simple admission, freely given without deflection or sarcasm, told Tim everything he needed to know. As Jason moved away to rejoin the others, Tim made a mental note to start his research tonight. Not just basic background checks, but thorough analysis. Because whoever this mysterious vigilante was, he clearly meant something to Jason.

And that meant Tim needed to know everything about him.

Just to be safe.

[eighth-heroine]

even it up

pairing: dean winchester x f!reader

CONTENT: violence (hunting), graphic descriptions of injuries and repairing them, SMUT, unprotected piv, dean might have a pain kink (or a competency kink), praise (m!receiving), blowjob, riding, (reckless) choking, edging (m!receiving), begging, biting, overstimulation

word count: 4.7k

a/n: part 2 to bitchin'. sorry it took so long! i got busy with schoolwork, but the semester's almost up so we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programming soon. thanks for your patience!

Silence filled the rental car as you and Dean drove to the location you'd tracked the missing vampires to. You had woken up tangled together, naked, dried bodily fluids a stark reminder of how far you'd fallen. You hadn't said a word to him all morning, and even Dean was devoid of his usual quips. At least you seemed to agree: last night was a mistake, and shouldn't happen again.

You parked the car in an unmarked, cracked parking lot a few blocks away from the abandoned house. Dean was out the door before you pulled the key from the ignition, rushing to the trunk to grab his weapons. You sighed and went after him, slamming the door behind you.

You stopped to the side of the trunk. "Dean."

"What," came his gruff reply from under the trunk lid. The sparse weeds growing through the pavement were suddenly very interesting.

"We should talk-"

Dean slammed the lid of the trunk, causing you to jump, and tossed you a machete, which you caught easily despite being startled.

"Let's just get the job done," he said, his face hard and unyielding as he made eye contact with you.

You looked away quickly, avoiding his stony gaze. "Fine," you mumbled. Those weeds sure were growing. Kind of how Dean had started to grow on you... persistent, despite the unforgiving terrain.

Shaking your head, you fell into step behind Dean as he started walking down the uneven sidewalk.

Your hands were deft as you picked the lock of the back door to the old, peeling green house. All the windows were boarded up, so you had no idea what was waiting for you directly behind this door, but if there was one thing you could count on, it's that if something did charge you, Dean would chop its head off. Not necessarily because he wanted to save you, but because he liked killing monsters. And you had a feeling that he had some anger he might want to take out on something deserving.

The lock finally clicked and you pushed the door open cautiously. It opened into a dirty mudroom, scattered with shoes and coats of all sizes and styles. Your stomach turned as you realized they must have belonged to victims.

Dean noticed it too. "Let's go," he said grimly and pushed past you into the building, machete held high.

You picked up your own machete from the ground where you had set it to pick the lock and followed Dean. He was quick, peeking past corners before whipping around and advancing down the hallways, pressed flat against the wall. You were less... dramatic about your caution, choosing to let him clear the way.

Dean stopped suddenly and threw an arm back, stopping you in place. For a second, you were distracted by the way his hand pressed back against you, fingers almost curling around your shirt, touching but not quite. A breeze through a broken window sent a wave of his Old Spice scent in your direction that almost overtook you. Then you came to your senses and slapped his hand away.

You peered past him to see what it was. You had come across a bedroom, in which three vampires were snoring away unwittingly. You recognized them from the warehouse.

Dean looked back at you and nodded, creeping into the room. You each went to a side of the bed and made eye contact over the sleeping monsters in front of you.

One, Dean mouthed, raising his blade.

Two, and you followed suit.

Three, and both of you swung. The blood of two vampires splattered the white sheets, and the third leapt up immediately, fangs descending. She stood on the bed, ready to pounce on Dean, when you pulled her legs out from under her. The vamp fell to the mattress, where you unceremoniously chopped off its head.

"Nice move," Dean muttered, wiping his blade and already walking towards the door. "Let's clear the rest of the house."

You checked the remaining rooms on the ground floor, while Dean hurried upstairs. You found nothing in the dilapidated rooms except some mice and rotting wood floors.

A loud pounding and scuffling sounded on the ceiling above you, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of metal hitting the floor. You turned and ran up the stairs two at a time.

Dean was locked in hand-to-hand combat with a vamp on the landing, his machete lying some distance away. Blood trickled down his temple. The ornate bronze candlestick the vampire wielded had a matching red stain.

The vampire hooked his beefy arm around Dean's neck and slammed him face first into the wall, shattering the glass on a picture frame that hung there. You seized the opportunity of having his back to you and rushed up behind him, hacking at his neck. Only his neck was so thick and muscular that your blade barely went through a third of it.

The vamp dropped Dean on the ground and slowly turned on you, your machete still stuck in its neck. Your eyes darted to where Dean's machete had fallen, and you scrambled backwards to pick it up, almost tripping on a rug in the process, but successfully retrieving it anyway. You brandished in front of you as you got backed into a corner, your last line of defense.

It had the audacity to laugh at you. "You think that's gonna work?" he taunted, bearing down on you and shadowing you from the meager sunlight coming through a window in an adjacent room.

In your periphery, you saw Dean rising from the ground, eyes fixed on the weapon stuck in the vampire's neck. You suppressed the urge to glance at him fully as he crept up behind the monster. He took hold of the machete handle and yanked.

It was no good. The vamp whirled on him, socking him in the jaw. You saw your chance. Dean was down for the count and the vampire had its back turned again. You ran up and swung with all your might in the opposite direction. The vamp's head rolled.

Dean looked up at you from the ground where he had fallen, panting hard. “You’re welcome,” he breathed heavily.

“For what? I saved your ass,” you reminded him, holding out a hand to help him up.

“If I hadn’t distracted it, you wouldn’t have been able to get it,” he said while standing, obviously trying to repair his ego.

You rolled your eyes and dropped his hand roughly. “Oh please.” You started down the stairs to head back to the car.

“At least we got them all now,” Dean commented, stomping down the stairs behind you.

You ignored him all the way back to the car and all the way back to the hotel as he continued to try to convince you that you hadn’t done all the work.

The sun was setting by the time you got back to the hotel, all shades of red and orange that reminded you of the blood you had spilled today. It reflected off the Impala, parked in front of the side door of the hotel. And it bathed Dean in a warm golden light that bounced off his freckled skin and made him look like he was glowing.

Ew, what am I thinking, you scolded yourself. He's just sweaty. He's a gross, sweaty man who you hate and never want to be intimate with again. He doesn't look sexy at all right now.

You were brought back to earth as Dean winced heavily while hauling his bag out of your trunk to transfer it to his car. His hand went to his ribs, tenderly feeling around for cracks.

"You should come inside so I can check you out," you said without thinking.

Dean looked at you incredulously. "Yeah, I bet you'd love to check me out, but I gotta go."

You rolled your eyes, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "Not what I meant. You're obviously hurt, let me take a look. I can patch you up better than you can yourself."

He threw his bag into the trunk of the Impala and slammed it shut. "Fine. If you'll let me leave after."

You prepared your first aid kit while Dean stripped off his top layers. You could have just gotten what you needed as you went, but you were preparing yourself for seeing him shirtless again... in the same environment that you'd fucked in last night.

You turned around, heart rate picking up. You were just making yourself nervous more than anything. You'd seen him shirtless thousands of times before. It's fine, it's normal.

And there he was.

Half-naked.

Sweaty.

Groaning.

Dean sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed, trying to look down his side, where deep red bruises were already formed. They were accompanied by a gash on his chest, presumably where the vampire's claws had cut into his skin as it tossed him around.

You kneeled in front of him and began examining his ribs, making sure to be gentle as you ran your fingers over each bone. Goosebumps rose on his flesh in the path of your hands. "Well, good news, nothing's broken."

Dean gave a pained sort of grimace-smile. "Great. So I can leave." He made to get up off the bed, but you held down his thighs.

"Not so fast," you said. "Let me fix up that cut."

"It's fine, really, I can do it myself," he protested. He met your determined gaze and slumped back.

"Fine. Make it quick."

You poured some antiseptic on a gauze pad. "This is gonna sting."

"I know, sweetheart, this ain't my first rodeo," Dean griped.

You gave him an expressionless look like I-am-so-done-with-you and pressed the soaked gauze to the cut. Dean hissed through his teeth, fingers tightening into the blanket beneath him. You wiped away the blood and the grime, revealing how deep the cut was.

"I'm gonna have to close this up," you told him. "It's deeper than I thought." You begin rummaging through the first-aid kit for the suture needle you knew was around somewhere. A hunter's first-aid kit was a little more elaborate than most.

You carefully threaded the needle, tongue poking through your lips, then looked up at him. "Ready?"

Dean's expression hardened and he grabbed the t-shirt he had been wearing, wadded up one end, and shoved it in his mouth.

Your brow furrowed in concentration as you wove the needle through his delicate skin, meticulously joining the two sides. You worked as quickly and as steadily as you could, painstakingly making sure to sew him up in a way that wouldn't scar too much. Dean did his best to keep quiet, occasionally grunting in pain, his face scrunching up around the shirt in his mouth.

You reached the end of the cut and adeptly tied off the thread, snipping the loose end off. Dean spat the chunk of t-shirt out of his mouth and tossed it to the side.

You made eye contact for a moment as you covered the wound site with a bandage, then Dean shifted his eyes to the side. "Thanks," he said after a minute.

"You sure you want to go? Why don't you rest one more night before getting on the road?" you asked softly, placing your hand on his knee soothingly. His leg twitched under your hand.

"I should go...." Dean protested half-heartedly, not making any move to get up. Did he want to stay?

"Got somewhere to be, Winchester?" you teased. Testing your theory, you rubbed his thigh a couple times. His eyes fluttered half-closed and he looked at you darkly through his lashes.

"Don't," he murmured, uncharacteristically non-combative. His hand crept around your wrist, holding your hand on his leg.

You looked up at him from your place between his legs. "You say one thing, but do another," you said softly. "What do you want, Dean?"

Dean bit his lip and let go of your hand, clasping his together in his lap and dropping his gaze to them. You waited a beat, then grabbed his hands, pulling them to your chest.

"Look at me, Dean," you commanded. His eyes flew up in surprise. "Tell me what you want."

His expression changed from surprised to irritated to aroused. He grabbed you by the shoulders.

"You."

You grinned and stood up to clamber onto him, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss, Dean's hands ghosting across your back and legs, helping you into his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him as close as possible as you made out and rolled your hips down onto his hardening cock.

Dean groaned and broke away. "Let me fuck you," he rasped, pupils blown.

A lovely mischievous idea occurred to you. You pouted. "You'll hurt yourself. Let me take care of you." You slid off his lap onto the floor and turned away, pulling your own shirt over your head. "Get comfortable on the bed."

In the fake gold plated mirror on the wall, you saw Dean look you up and down hungrily. Then he quickly stripped the rest of his clothes off and sat against the headboard. You slowly lowered your jeans, then your panties, being as teasing as possible, knowing he was watching.

"Come here," he barked finally. You turned to face him, bra still covering your breasts.

"So demanding," you breathed, but went to him anyway. You sat down on his thighs and looped your arms around his neck again, pulling him in for a kiss, which he swerved in favor of mouthing kisses into your neck and jaw. You moaned a little as he paid attention to a sensitive vein. Your hips almost involuntarily rolled forward, meeting his lower stomach.

His hands, which had just been resting on your thighs, squeezed harshly into the supple flesh of your hips. You yelped as he dug his fingers into the bruises he had left the day before.

"You said you would take care of me," Dean said snarkily, staring pointedly at his cock between you. You smirked and wrapped your hand around its base, admiring the reddening tip. You slowly squeezed your hand up from the base to the tip, and were rewarded with a thick drop of precum leaking out and dripping down the side. Dean huffed, a dark flush spreading across his neck and chest.

You scooted down his legs until your face was level with his crotch. Making teasing eye contact with him, you slowly stuck out your tongue and licked his cock from his balls up, flicking off the tip. Dean growled, his skin and gaze fiery.

"Quit'cher teasing," he slurred, tilting his head back to knock against the headboard.

You found significant pleasure in weakening him, and although you'd have liked to keep teasing him, you wanted to make him come undone. So you took his cock into your mouth, sucking gently on the fat head, savoring the salty taste of him.

"Fuck," Dean whispered, head still back, eyes closed. You swirled your tongue around a few times, then started lowering your head, taking him further and further into your mouth. He reached for your head but you caught his hand and held it down to the bed.

You raised your head, letting his cock fall from your mouth, a string of drool still connecting the two. "Trust me," you said, raising your eyebrow.

"I don't trust you as far as I can throw you," he groaned.

"Don't make me tie you down," you warned. "I will."

"I'd like to see you try- ngh!" You squeezed the base of his cock tightly and watched as it turned red and Dean squirmed beneath you, mouth agape and panting. He truly was a beautiful, lewd sight.

"Mind your stitches," you reminded him gently. "Lie still." You loosened your hold on his cock and began sliding your hand along it languidly.

Dean visibly relaxed, eyes fluttering open. You lowered your mouth back onto his cock, taking him all the way to the back of your throat and swallowing around him. Your eyes watered and stung, but the groan he let out was worth it. You repeated the process a couple more times, then pulled off and looked up at him. He regarded you darkly and lustfully as you grabbed his hand and brought it to the side of your face, allowing him to lace his fingers through your hair and grab a handful.

A handhold.

You nodded slightly and dropped your jaw, mouth waiting above his heavy cock. Dean's mouth slowly grew into a grin.

"Want me to fuck your face, huh? Guess that's one way you can help me out." He shoved your head down onto him. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat. "Fucking slut, letting a guy fuck your mouth just 'cuz you feel sorry for him." He began bobbing your head up and down. His grip on your hair made your scalp tingle.

You made a little moan of protest. It turned into the most obscene gurgling, gagging sound as he continued to use you like a human fleshlight.

You gripped his wrist and tugged his hand out of your hair so you could pull off of his cock. You looked at him through narrowed eyes. "I will stop."

"Yeah, right," Dean scoffed, out of breath. "You practically threw yourself on me."

You smirked, moving up to straddle him, and pinned his hand to the headboard. "I think you'll find that, both times, it was the other way around."

Before Dean knew what was happening, you ambushed him with a handcuff snapping around his wrist, the other side looped haphazardly on the bedpost. It didn't matter that it wasn't secure. He didn't have enough leverage to lift it over the tall post and free himself.

While he snarled, distracted, you trapped his other wrist in the same way. You smiled down at him sweetly when his angry face turned to you.

"I did warn you," you said, grinding down on his lap. "But I guess I should've known better than to give you any control. It was always going to come to this, wasn't it?"

"You bitch," Dean said through gritted teeth, straining forward against his restraints.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his neck, his jaw, his earlobe. "Just say the word if it's too much."

You felt him relax underneath you, then he nipped at your ear. "How weak do you think I am? Do your worst," he sneered.

You rose above him, triumphant. "Oh, I will, baby." You ground your wet core against his cock, still slick with your spit. He ground his teeth more, trying not to react. You threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged gently.

And oh, how beautiful it was that he let his head loll back, giving himself into your control, eyes fluttering shut. Then he seemed to snap to his senses and he opened his eyes, muttering, "Just ride me already."

"Patience," you whispered, and began kissing him. You kissed down his neck, across his chest (avoiding the stitches), down his stomach through the soft hairs that led back down to his pretty cock, laying on his stomach and leaving droplets of precum like dew in the hairs.

You blew softly across his length as you considered the best way to make him unravel for you. He let out a low groan, quiet and strained. You smiled to yourself and lowered your mouth back onto his cock, running your tongue lightly along the thick vein that ran up its underside, tracing the life-force that pulsated beneath his skin. He huffed softly in quick succession.

"Breathe," you murmured against his dick, and licked the tip gently, slo-o-owly. Dean made a pretty noise that was halfway a grunt and halfway a breathy sigh, and your pussy fluttered between your legs.

You clambered back up his body, your knees framing his waist as you hovered over him. His eyes were completely clouded by lust, an eager expression taking over his face. You took hold of his cock and lined it up with your body. His breath hitched in anticipation.

You cocked your head, smiling. "What do you say?"

Dean scowled. "Fuck you, I'm not begging."

"Oh, but you already have, Dean." You stroke his cock gently where it waits between your legs. "What's one more word?"

His eyes threatened to close against his will. He gritted his teeth, opened his mouth, closed it, sighed, and spoke. "Please," he whispered.

"Good boy," you praised, sinking down onto his cock slowly. You moaned loudly as you felt him fill you up again. It almost felt better now that you were taking your time with him. Dean moaned softly, arms finally relaxing in his bonds.

Your head dipped down and you kissed him. His mouth was soft and pliant against yours, not fighting, not working to dominate, and you had the fleeting thought that you had tamed him. You didn't know how, but in this moment, he was completely submissive. And you liked it.

You raised yourself up and drew off his cock until just the head remained inside, then slid back down slowly, like you had at first. Dean leaned forward, held back somewhat by the cuffs, to suck and press kisses to your breasts. You ground down on him, pressing his cock as far in as it would go until it ached, and your chest vibrated with Dean's responding groan.

"Please move," he begged hoarsely, hips twitching underneath you.

"Since you asked nicely," you breathed. You began rolling your hips against his steadily, watching as his pleasure flickered through his rugged features. It was a stark contrast to last night, when he had been scowling and making quips the entire time as he fucked you into the mattress. This was almost... loving. Or perhaps you were simply providing him a service. You did agree to take care of him, and maybe that's what he needed.

You reached up and unclasped the handcuff on Dean's left hand, somehow trusting that he would not go anywhere. His eyes flew open and his hand was on you like it was a magnet and your hip was the opposite charge. His hand massaged into the flesh of your hip, making a dull ache arise from the bruises of the previous night.

You looked into his eyes as both your moans filled the air. They were wide and asking, and since his hand was gentle on your body, and he had been on such good behavior, you released his other hand as well.

It was like a switch flipped. His right hand darted to your waist and dug in, the hand on your hip tightening as well as he took control of your movement. You yelped and he began pushing you faster, your thighs screaming with effort as you tried to regain control.

"Dean," you gasped, clawing at his shoulders.

He grinned, slamming your hips down on him until you were forced to fall against his shoulder. "You were too slow," he gasped between heavy breaths, the wind rushing from his lungs each time your hips met his.

You managed to push yourself back up, bracing your forearm against his throat. His gasps turned ragged as you cut off his air. His thrusts slowed as you regained control of him.

"Be good," you said harshly, catching your breath and narrowing your gaze. "Only good boys get what they want." Dean scowled as he realized you were parroting his words from the night before.

"Fuck you," he spat hoarsely, voice barely audible from the pressure on his vocal cords. You cocked an eyebrow and leaned a little heavier on his throat. His cock twitched inside you.

Letting up on his throat just enough that he could breathe, you picked yourself up and began fucking yourself on his cock again, this time fully in control as his hands just clutched at your hips. You swear he went bug-eyed at the renewed friction combined with his light-headedness.

You felt pressure build in your core as you watched Dean's face, red and straining, mouth hanging open as he gasped in a desperate bid for a full breath. All that came from his mouth were raspy moans and heaves. He seemed determined not to beg still. You supposed he had been faking before. That wouldn't do.

"Tell me when you're close, baby," you purred in his ear as you began rubbing your clit, the sensation causing you to clench around him tightly. You readjusted the arm on his throat so he could speak.

"I'm close," you continued. "If I come on your cock, can you take it? Or will it be too much?" You pouted in mock pity. Dean was barely listening, eyes rolled back in his head, mouth moving in something that might have been words, if he wasn't so pussy-drunk and oxygen-deprived.

The look on his face finally pushed you over the edge, and you fell on his mouth hungrily as your pussy spasmed around him, eating up his desperate whines and moans as they fell from his lips.

You didn't stop your pace, overstimulating yourself and building another orgasm while Dean... finally broke.

"Please," he gasped hoarsely into your mouth, teeth clashing against yours as he jerked forward, drawn towards you, needing to be closer and closer and closer. "I'm so close."

You smirked down at him and slowed drastically. He was going to feel everything you were subjected to last night. He whined and buried his face in your chest, hips wiggling in an attempt to thrust into you again. "What do you say?"

"I just did," he growled, scraping his teeth over your skin.

"You didn't," you said cheerily. "You know what you need to tell me."

He let out a drawn-out groan followed by what could be considered somewhat of a sob. "Fuck."

"That's not it," you chastised.

Dean gritted his teeth and looked up at you, meeting your gaze. But he couldn't hold it. "I need to come," he whispered, eyes dropping. "Please make me come."

You resumed your last pace, touching yourself and clenching down on him as your body reacted to the feelings. Dean let out a broken moan as you leaned on his throat again. "Fuck- fuck-" he gasped against your skin, more his mouth just forming the words than speaking, hot and wet and open. His entire body tensed and he stopped breathing for just a moment-

And then he came inside you, shuddering and digging his nails into your hips so tightly you thought you might bleed. You didn't slow until you were following him, wringing every drop from his spent cock as he begged you to slow down in half-human sounds. You didn't slow until you were overstimulating yourself too, and he was straining against your arm, all but crying as his face contorted, all gritted teeth and tense muscles and red cheeks.

At last, you seated yourself fully on him and just stayed there, finally un-obstructing his airway. Dean's hands fell limply to your sides as his chest heaved, panting heavily and looking at you with a glazed expression as his cock jerked weakly inside you.

You made a quick scan of his injuries. Nothing had burst or ripped. He was catching his breath. Satisfied that he was physically okay, you smirked down at him.

"Now we're even," you told him slyly, dragging yourself off of him and laying down beside him.

"Fuck you," he croaked.

You smiled and nipped at his jaw. "Think you better just stay the night, wouldn't want you to drive like this."

Dean hesitated, then decided to take the bait. "Like what?"

"All weak and worn out," you said sympathetically. "Driving tired from a good fucking is the same as driving drunk, you know."

He let out a sharp chuckle. "I don't think that's how the saying goes."

"Really?" you asked sweetly, propping yourself on one elbow to look at him. "Could've sworn it was something like that...." You pretended to think.

"I'll stay," Dean sighed, snaking his arm around you and pulling you into his side. "If you promise we can do this again before checkout."

"I don't know," you said. "We might sleep too long. We might have to take it out to the car."

Dean shivered at the thought of fucking you in his Impala. "I guess that wouldn't be so bad."

[mt-oe]

Am curious,,, Mizu and a yandere/possessive reader 🫡 but like Mizu is also lowkey into it though

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Hey dears!

I apologize for not being active for so long. My mental health has been absolute shit. Admittedly, I have been wanting to put out a fic for quite some time now but I didn't want to put out a half-assed fic since none of you deserve that.

Got inspired by @pinksugarberry, specifically this work. A lot of us got our own OCs in our head that we can't quite put out into art so I hope this somehow grants you the opportunity to play in and maybe be the 5th secret route.

Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, she/her for mizu, panty shots, voyeurism (mdni), implied afab reader

Mizu was rarely fazed by anything.

With her characteristically stoic expression, she traversed the fields of her college program smoothly. Athletic, smart, and coupled with the calm of a deep river, she overcame the adversities brought by professors who clearly don't give a shit if you learn or not, an absurdly unfair grading system, and the stress of deadlines and exams.

She was cool, calm, and collected. Someone who never faltered, who's knees never buckled.

However, this was something different.

Something that she wasn't even sure she could ever prepare for.

.

.

"Is it this one?" your voice asked softly, reaching a book down to her as your smaller figure stood on the ladder, a few feet above her.

A library assistant. A cute fuckin' library assistant.

Upon hearing your words, her blue eyes looked up briefly to check if you've gotten the right book before widening a fraction and immediately looking elsewhere. Her cheeks heated up as the image of something—something cute and baby pink—plagues her mind, hand tightening its grip on the ladder until her knuckles turned white.

The library had always been her go-to place to study. It was quiet, usually cold, and the vibe brought by other students trying to study had also added to the ambience. There were lots of sockets and was open until the late hours. It was the perfect place to lock in.

However, her concerns started rising when she felt some sort of presence watching her intently. At first she brushed it off as the usual stranger's curiosity over her appearance. After all, her appearance was quite unique. But as the days passed by, she soon realized that the stare, it wasn't going away.

Someone was watching her.

Her senses were then on high alert every time she went to the library. She even tried not going just to see if she could lose the stare, but she realized that whoever was staring at her would only stare harder when she came back if she did. It was like she had eyes on her everywhere, watching every move.

With her wits and observant nature, it didn't take long for her to catch whoever was watching her. But to her surprise, it was you. The library assistant.

The two of you barely had interactions and she found you pretty timid. Always keeping to yourself, organizing papers, and barely interacting unless needed. The only times she'd ever talk to you was to ask for information or help. Even then, you were pretty shy. You were so harmless. Like a cute little rabbit.

With her recent discovery, she found herself intrigued by you and slowly became hyperaware of your presence. Your mannerisms, the slight intonations of your hushed voice, and even the times you went out of post to reorganize the returned books. But those weren't what intrigued her the most...

"Then what about this one?" you asked in a shy voice, holding out another book. She didn't even have to look up to know that it was the wrong book again.

Shaking her head, she pretended to clear her throat, eyes darting around. Anything to avoid looking up again. "No...It's the one beside that," she mumbled, trying her best to hide the unexplainable nervousness in her voice.

A soft, barely audible sigh left your lips at her response. "Please look at it properly," you whispered, waving the book to catch her attention.

At this point, Mizu was almost a hundred percent sure you were doing this on purpose.

Everyday, Mizu went to the library, and everyday she went to the library, she coincidentally had to ask for your assistance in finding some sort of resource. That wouldn't have been a problem. That shouldn't be a problem.

But it was.

It was because every time she did, she'd have to look up and see what was under your skirt.

She didn't want to seem like a pervert, but goddamnit...

You were doing this on purpose, weren't you?

Mizu wasn't stupid. She knew you wanted her to peek up your skirt, to see what color your panties were today, to see the cute prints it had, to admire the plushness of your ass. She'd notice how purposefully got on top of the ladder and get her attention before pulling on the fabric of your panties whenever you got a slight wedgie. She's seen the way you spread your legs when you sat in front of her, even going as far as to lift your skirt up a bit. She noticed the slight pout on your lips when she refused to look.

You've been at it ever since she remembered. Initially, she thought that you were just naturally unaware, maybe even a little bit clumsy. Maybe you just had this natural innocent lewdness? But continuing to observe you, she began realizing how you only acted like this with her.

You never watched the other people who studied in the library. You never asked anyone to look up when you fetched a book for them. You kept your legs crossed whenever talking to someone. And most of all, you never got upset when someone didn't look at you.

She knew she should be disturbed, possibly even upset. But somehow, Mizu found herself amused.

Intrigued.

Interested.

Deciding to indulge you, she turned her head to look up. Her eyes looked up your skirt, admiring the slight camel toe peeking, before looking into your eyes while pretending to be subtle. Her lips almost twitched into an amused smirk as she saw the slight shiver that went up your spine.

"Is this it?" you asked again, hiding your excitement upon feeling her gaze. She looked at the book, and sure enough, it was the wrong one again. Sighing, she shook her head.

Her eyes observed the barely-visible quiver of your lips as you tried to force an excited smile down and replace it with a disappointed frown. "O-Oh...um..let me see," you whispered before turning to look at the shelf.

A little bit of shuffling later, you decided that that was enough excitement and got the correct book this time. Handing it to her, you went down the ladder with a faux apologetic smile. "Sorry it took a while."

Mizu shook her head and let out a small huff of amusement. God, you were so cute when you acted dumb.

"No, no. It's fine," she said reassuringly, spoiling you a bit and patting your head softly before she went back to her seat, book in hand. Her eyes looking over your face for a moment, studying the slight blush that dusted over your cheeks as you took a seat again.

As she got back to her work, she could feel your eyes staring at her, watching her with unwavering interest. Your gaze was so intense it was becoming difficult to ignore. Almost as difficult as ignoring the way you were subtly spreading your legs, letting your skirt ride up a bit as you watched her.

No. At this point, you were waiting for her.

Waiting for her to look.

A few moments later, Mizu finally looked up. Her sharp blue eyes looking into yours deeply before looking down, staring at the baby pink panties you had on today. She tilted her head slightly to get a better look, admiring the way your thighs trembled in excitement, and the slight throb of your cunt.

Her gaze was so intense it almost made you want to shrink in your seat. The excitement was making your throat tighten, your hand going up to your lips to try and hide your smile.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

[pathologicalreid]

this is the job | S.R.

next

You and Spencer (almost) get into a fight about the demands of your job.

who? spencer reid x retired!reader content warnings: takes place before the events of stuck between a rock and a hard place (so like circa 9x20), retired!reader is not actually retired yet, slight bickering, spoilers for season 6 finale (supply and demand), reader is female word count: 1.13k a/n: just a little shorty piece about my beloved spencer and retired!reader, im having a lot of fun writing this little vignette style series. i know it's short but the next piece will be long and very hurt/comfort heavy.

When the phone started ringing, you thought it was Spencer’s phone, but after letting it go for a few rings, you begrudgingly realized it was your ringtone. Groaning, you turned in Spencer’s arms and grabbed your phone off of your bedside table before answering the call. “Hello?” You greeted groggily.

There was only one person who would be calling you at two in the morning. Andi Swann’s voice rang through the receiver, “We need you to come in.”

“Now?” You asked, blinking sleep out of your eyes. Next to you, Spencer started to wake up. Using his thumb, he rubbed small, soothing circles over your hip while you talked on the phone.

It was a pointless question, you already knew the answer, and that was why you were already getting out of bed. “Yes, we need to get you out as soon as possible. We might have a lead on The Program.”

You sighed, looking over at Spencer, who was now sitting up, as you nodded, “Okay, I’ll shoot you a text when I’m on my way.” You hung up the phone, setting it back down on the bedside table before you made your way to the closet to retrieve your go bag.

“You’re leaving?” Spencer asked, burning both of your retinas when he leaned over to turn on a lamp.

Hesitantly, you started grabbing clothes out of your side of the dresser. Most of your clothes would be in the apartment that the bureau would set you up in, but you could bring some of your things. Basics, mostly. “Uh, yeah,” you answered.

Peering over at you while you tugged on a pair of jeans, Spencer furrowed his brow. “You just got back,” he responded, getting out of bed himself.

“I know, but that was Andi. She says they might have a lead on The Program, so I have to go in,” You informed him, trying not to topple over while you put your socks on.

Sat on the edge of the bed, your boyfriend leaned back and watched you pack. “I believe the operative word there is ‘might’. Tell them to send someone else,” he urged, not wanting you to leave.

Shaking your head, you zipped your bag shut, “You know they don’t have anyone else.” It was true – you were the only female undercover agent that Swann had.

Spencer clenched his jaw, “I know they don’t have anyone else, that’s part of the problem. They need to hire someone else to split the burden with you, it shouldn’t be all on you.”

“This is my job, Spence. I can’t just tell them I’m not coming in. You drop everything as soon as Hotch calls,” you reminded him.

Reaching out for your hands, Spencer pulled you in, so you were standing between his legs. “Hotch would let me spend a night in my own bed before calling me back in. You got home at ten, baby. It’s been four hours and eight minutes,” he said, keeping his voice low in the dead of the night.

Giving in a little, you leaned into him, “Our jobs are different. We have different demands.” You brushed off his concern. There was at least a part of you that knew he was right. As usual, you called Spencer as soon as you had debriefed with Andi. He picked you up and brought you home.

He placed his hands gently on your waist, “You’re burning the candle at both ends. You don’t eat or sleep enough when you’re undercover, and that won’t do anyone any good.”

Stepping back, you wiped a hand down your face, “I know, but there are so many people out there who need my help. I could save those people.” You bargained with him.

Spencer shook his head, “We’ve spent a total of four nights together this calendar year. It’s April.”

You knew that. You kept track just as much as he did, but that didn’t change the fact that you had a job to do, “You knew the score when you asked me out, Spence.” Your tone was a warning. When he asked you out after you worked with the BAU to rescue Renee Matlin, you warned him that you weren’t around much.

Admittedly, you hadn’t expected to fall in love with him.

Slipping your phone into your back pocket, you inclined your head toward him, “This is the job.” This job was who you were, Spencer knew that just as well as you did.

“This isn’t the job, love. You’re acting like you don’t have an option. It’s almost as if…” his voice trailed off as if he was stopping himself from saying something he’d later regret.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “You might as well say it.” Maybe he’d give you a reason to walk out the door.

He shrugged helplessly, “Fine, I think Andi’s taking advantage of your selflessness and your need to please everyone.” He narrowed his gaze, “You were just gone for five weeks, and now you’re leaving again.”

What crushed you the most was that he was right. “I don’t want to let anyone down,” you murmured. Padding over to him, you wrapped your arms around him, holding your breath until he reciprocated. “That includes you,” you admitted, chest tight, “I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”

Taking a deep breath, Spencer smoothed your hair at the back of your head, “You’re gonna go save some lives, because that’s what you do.” His voice was low and steady, “I’ll be here when you get back.”

You jumped when a phone started ringing, this time it actually was Spencer’s.

He picked it up and answered the phone, “Hey,” he greeted, face falling as the other person spoke. “I’ll be right there.”

Eyeing him hesitantly, you saw his entire demeanor change. The BAU had a case. Checking the time, you pulled back, “I should go.”

“Y/N,” he said. “I don’t want to part on bad terms,” he revealed to you as he started to get dressed himself.

Peering up at him, you offered your boyfriend a small smile, “We’re never on bad terms, angel boy.” You were just navigating a complicated relationship.

He raised his eyebrows like that statement surprised him, “but if I’m not going to see you for another month, then we can at least drive in together.”

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you had already made your decision, “If we drive in together, then I have to call you for a ride when I get back.” You settled your hands in your lap, crossing one leg over the other.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Spencer responded, leaning over you to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

next

[hobby1008]

could you do a impregnating Wonyoung smut? but where she consents instead of it being non-con.

Lovely wife

If you use a translator, the sentences may be strange.

wonyoung x m reader

Tags: creampie ,Pregnant

Word count: 4717

IVE Jang Won-young She has enjoyed immense popularity since IZ*ONE, and in terms of visuals, she is the best among the 4th generation idols. She's my wife.

Since Won-young is an idol, dating is taboo, but we always did our best not to get caught, and as a result, we ended up getting married in secret.

However, due to Won-young's busy schedule, we didn't have much time together. That's why we were always hot and happy when we were together.

The company gave Won-young, who worked hard without a day off, a vacation, and she happily asked me to go on a trip.

However, because she was an idol, she couldn't date ordinary people.

However, she was incredibly happy that she had time with me, and decided to go on a hotel vacation without being disturbed by others.

The day before the trip, she packed her bags with excitement and great anticipation for the trip with me. She looked so lovely and made me happy.

The next day, we packed our bags and headed straight to the hotel. We checked in and unpacked right away and started to enjoy our vacation.

This hotel was a place where we could enjoy without worrying about the privacy of celebrities.

We had a simple meal and started to enjoy a full-fledged date.

We watched various programs provided by the hotel, such as massages and movies.

We had a happy time like that, and soon it was evening, and we decided to drink wine together in the room.

We started to have a conversation while drinking wine, just like any other newlywed couple, and the mood got warmer, and we explored each other's lips and kissed deeply, and headed to the bedroom.

When we arrived at the bedroom, she pushed me onto the bed and started to take off her clothes.

She started to do a strip show just for me. She made seductive gestures and expressions to me, and one by one, she took off her underwear, and I started to get even more excited when I saw it.

She wore lingerie underwear that was different from usual for me, and I couldn't help but admire her beautiful body and the combination of it.

She was satisfied with my reaction, and sat down in front of me, took off her pants, exposed her cock, and said, “I’ll make it better for you, oppa,” and stroked my cock to make it erect.

She then bit her lower lip with a lustful expression, and began to caress my cock with her mouth.

She slowly licked the glans with her tongue and sucked it slowly.

I stroked her head and moaned faintly.

She looked up at me with a bright smile, “Do you like it, oppa?” I asked, and when I nodded to her answer, she started to really suck my dick quickly..

She knew what I liked, so she put my dick in her mouth, moved her head back and forth, and sometimes used her tongue to lick my dick, and knew the right timing and intensity, and she took my dick out of her mouth, stroked it with her hand, sucked my balls, and said, "Oppa, I love your dick so much," and put my dick up to her throat and deep-throated it, pleasuring me.

I had a lot of experience with her, but her mouth still drove me crazy.

Then she took my dick out of her mouth, and said, "Oppa, I want to do it now," and I laid her down on the bed and started to take off her lingerie.

When I took off her bra, her beautiful nipples rose up to greet me, and when I took off her panties, due to excitement, a lot of love juice came out, and a thin thread was connected to her pussy and panties. It broke.

“Oppa, put it in right away, I want to feel it quickly,” she said, acting cute, and I tried to put on a condom right away.

She immediately stopped me, saying, “Oppa, just do it today, I want to feel all of it.”

I smiled at her lovely request, and immediately aligned my cock with her vagina, and slowly inserted my cock.

As my cock filled her entire vagina, she moaned softly, and said, “Oppa, it’s so good, I love you, oppa,” and squeezed my cock, and I started having sex with her in earnest.

When I started to poke her pussy hard, I slid in a little further each time I inserted it. Wonyoung looked up at me with eyes full of lust and happiness and moaned to the rhythm.

“Oppa, Wonyoung, I love you so much, do it faster.” I started to insert it deeper and faster each time as she wished, and as my cock hit her cervix, she fell into a swamp of pleasure. Her body trembled with the power of my penetration, and her pussy squeezed my cock even more.

He grabbed her ass and started to pound her while holding her in place, and I rubbed her clitoris with my hand for her. Her pussy started to release more fluid.

"Okay, Wonyoung?" I growled and gave her a short kiss. “I’m so happy I think I’m going to cum, oppa”

I listened to her words and poked her pussy with her favorite rhythm, and she quickly orgasmed and ejaculated on my dick.

Then her pussy tightened even more, and I started to poke Wonyoung’s pussy again, who had just finished ejaculating.

She, who had not yet orgasmed, was moaning loudly at my insertion.

I also felt the signs of ejaculation soon, and I told her about it.

“Wonyoung, I think I’m going to cum.”

She looked up at me with the most lustful expression I had seen today, and said,

“Do it inside, oppa. I want to have a pretty story like you.”

I ejaculated right away, in the deepest part of her pussy, at her lovely plea.

Her pussy was filled with my cum, and when I pulled out my dick, the cum that her narrow pussy couldn’t handle was coming out.

I lay down next to her, exhausted, and she was like that. After kissing me

"I'm so happy to be with you, oppa"

That's how we ejaculated all our cum into her pussy during our vacation.

A few days later, I got home from work.

She ran up to me, and showered me with kisses, and then said with the happiest smile in the world, "Oppa, I'm pregnant. I'm so happy I can have a beautiful baby who looks like you."

I was so happy to see Wonyoung happy, and I also hugged her with joy.

[marlynnofmany]

Unlikely Tech Problems

I reported to the cargo bay for our next delivery, and found concerned faces. Captain Sunlight waited by the door, scaly browridges angled into a dignified frown, while Mimi gestured wildly with his tentacles. I’d expected Mur to come with us instead. Something was up.

Before I could ask, the captain waved me over. “The other ship’s communications appear to be down,” she said. “Additional problems are possible as well. Keep your nostrils open for trouble.”

“Right,” I said, choosing not to comment on the Heatseeker phrasing. “Do we know if they’re okay?”

“They should be,” she replied with one clawed finger pointed at the closed bay door, which blocked the view of a busy spaceport. “The crew member who exited their ship to wave us over didn’t look distressed. And Wio isn’t picking up any alert signals or other causes for alarm.”

Mimi rumbled, “But we’re cautiously alarmed anyway.” He made quite a contrast to the captain, with his voice so much rougher and his attitude grumpier than usual today. Plus all the tentacles. I wondered what he expected the problem to be. Or maybe he just wasn’t looking forward to being mechanic-for-hire as a favor for regular clients. Though I’m sure the captain would have given him a bonus for that.

“We are simply cautious,” said Captain Sunlight. “We’ll head out as soon as—”

Something hissed behind me.

“I hearrrr of thrrrreatening circumsssstanssses?” asked Trrili, sounding pleased.

I turned to see our largest and scariest crewmate doing her favorite thing: looming. Well, second favorite thing, after jumping out and startling people. It was probably good that she enjoyed being terrifying, because with an appearance that was a mix of praying mantis, black widow spider, and unholy nightmares, she was really good at it.

Captain Sunlight was unfazed. “Potentially threatening,” she corrected. “If you will kindly observe in case of problems, I would appreciate it.”

Trrili crouched lower and flexed her pincher arms. “Yesss.”

(Unnecessary hissing is her third favorite thing to do.)

“Right. They’ll be waiting.” The captain stepped forward and opened the bay door — with the airlock engaged. She really wasn’t taking any chances. I wondered if Wio was watching from the cockpit, ready to call the local authorities if need be.

Yeah, of course she was.

The first three of us cycled through the airlock, then waited on the tarmac while Trrili followed. The spaceport was a big one, with ships in all the nearby parking spots and people hustling to and fro. (They're more properly called berths or bays or something, but whatever; they're parking spots. Everybody there could land vertically, and the areas were sorted by ship size.)  I didn’t know which ship held the package we were meant to be picking up. Hopefully it was close.

By the time Trrili stepped out, the ship directly across from us had opened its own bay door, this one without any sort of airlock precautions. A snow-white Heatseeker trotted out and waved us forward. I was glad that the local weather was slightly overcast, since between those white scales and Captain Sunlight’s yellow, I would have been doing a lot of squinting on a bright day.

“Piercing Sunlight!” exclaimed the client. “Good to smell you.”

“Hello, Toothbone,” said the captain. “Always a pleasure. Is your comm system down?”

Toothbone swished her tail. “A precautionary measure. We had a bit of machinery repaired, and it came back with suspicious programming. We’re making sure it’s not malicious before connecting with any other ships, just to be sure.”

Captain Sunlight nodded while Trrili made a quiet hiss of disappointment. “Very sensible,” the captain said. “I trust this won’t affect the package you want us to deliver?”

“No, not at all. It’s a textile piece that one of our crew made on commission for someone on their home planet, no technology involved. Right this way.”

She led us up the ramp into their cargo bay, which had a lower ceiling than ours. Trrili and I both had to duck a little. The Heatseekers and Mimi didn’t notice.

Toothbone pointed out an awkwardly-shaped box that probably held an art frame as well as the promised cloth, and Captain Sunlight tactfully brought out the payment tablet.

Angry voices echoed down the hallway. Trrili perked up and edged forward; I stepped aside to let her while Mimi squashed down beside the package. Captain Sunlight glanced up but didn’t say anything. Toothbone just looked tired.

Since neither of them told her not to, Trrili opened the door and stuck her head out. Somebody shrieked. The sounds of the argument stopped.

“Isssss therrre a prrroblem?” Trrili purred.

“No — well yes, but not — who are you?” someone asked while other voices muttered in the background.

“Courrrierrr,” Trrili said.

“Thank you for your concern,” said an officious voice. “If you don’t mind—”

“Hey, is that a human?” asked another voice, and I saw brown eyes peeking around Trrili. “They’ll back me up! Hang on a sec. ‘Scuse me.”

Trrili stepped back as a slender human with dark skin and a wild-colored shirt skipped past. He hurried over to me. I braced for whatever conversation was about to happen.

“Hi,” he said earnestly. “Please tell me you’ve heard of the thing where people program old Earth games into unlikely bits of tech.”

“Sure!” I said. “My cousin put Doom in a hoverbike’s display screen once.”

“Yes!” He pointed at me and pumped a fist in the air, then turned back to the scaly faces in the hall. “You see?”

I connected the dots. “Did your repaired piece of tech come back with a game on it?”

He whirled, wild-eyed. “Yes! One of the repair guys is a buddy of mine, and he must have done it as a joke. I’ve been trying to explain it, but nobody believes me!”

“What tech is it?” I asked.

“Part of the medbay,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Somebody sprained their tail, and the medic went to scan it for breaks, then they ended up with a screen full of demons and gunfire.”

I tried not to laugh. “Is it actually Doom in your medbay??”

He dragged his hands over his face. “It’s Doom in the medbay.”

“That’s amazing!”

By this point the other Heatseekers had made their way in to join the conversation, and to be formally introduced. Things got a bit chaotic. But I confirmed for the alien crew that yes, this was a thing humans did sometimes, and no, it was not a threat to the ship. Alarming yes, but not any form of viral attack.

Trrili was a bit disappointed, but everyone else was relieved. Captain Sunlight managed to steer the conversation back to courier business.

The other human shook his head next to me. “I can’t believe my friend did that. Well no, I can believe it; this is definitely his sort of thing. But jeez.”

“You might consider sending him another old Earth tradition in return,” I suggested with a grin. “Possibly a max-volume rickroll?”

He grinned back. “I might. I might indeed.”

~~~

Inspired by this thread. Thanks for the idea, @sleepyowlet!

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Chapter 2

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.5k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

fic summary: When Din Djarin – principal dancer at Concordia Ballet Company and generational talent in the classical style – suddenly left CBC and joined the Nevarro Ballet Theater mid-season, it shocked the ballet world. You never would have guessed that he would change your life, too.

a/n: it's time to figure out what Karga's plan is. 👀 See my notes at the end and on the masterlist about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: gen, ballet terms (see end notes and the masterlist for definitions and videos), a bit of angst, a bit of fluff

Chapter 2

You were one of the last people to enter the studio for rehearsal and realized the entire company had been gathered together. You hurried over to sit by Adrian and Owen before looking around and noticing Djarin was in the corner, deep in conversation with Kuiil. Maybe they had met before, after all.

Karga walked in just as you sat down and clapped his hands. “Well! Hello, everyone. First, let us welcome our newest company member, Din Djarin.” He paused and gestured towards the corner where Djarin was standing, smiling as you all clapped and stamped the floor. You glanced over to him and saw that he was leaning against the wall with his shoulders loose and arms crossed, expressionless mask back in place. “We are very happy to have him join us. Please introduce yourselves and welcome him when you see him.” Djarin didn’t react and you wondered how those introductions would go. “Now, we have a few announcements about changes to the spring programs.”

You felt Adrian elbow you and you elbowed him back without looking. 

“As I mentioned earlier this week, we won’t be making any changes to Midsummer, Swan Lake, or Cinderella.” You heard Adrian breathe a sigh of relief beside you and you nudged him again. “But we will be making some changes to the other shows. As you know, we have three mixed programs planned for spring, as well as the 5th anniversary gala.” 

Karga waved one hand and started to tick off his fingers as he continued. “For the first program, we’ll be adding a solo performance for Din. Given that one is so soon, in January, we don’t want to disrupt things too much.”

You heard some murmurs and saw some of your fellow dancers nodding. That made sense, and it sounded like they were going to spread out the changes. It also added a draw for the audience, to get to see Din Djarin alone on stage. A real showcase for his skill and artistry.

“For February’s program,” Karga turned to Talia, who was mostly in charge of that one, and nodded. “Din will be joining the Balanchine ballet. You’ll discuss that in your next rehearsal.” Talia nodded back at him, and then glanced over the dancers. You tried to not to wince – someone would be losing a role, then. Probably more than one person. But it didn’t make sense to not play to Djarin’s strengths, and something as technical as Symphony in C was perfect for him. And it was possible that he’d performed it before at CBC, anyway — they didn’t do a lot of Balanchine, but if they did, they’d pick Symphony in C.

“For April, we’ll be adding something new.” Karga looked over to one of the choreographers, Vince, who nodded at the room. “More to come on that, but it will be a small group.” You wondered if they would give the dancers who would be demoted in Symphony a chance in this new number – Karga was usually good about things like that. You glanced at Adrian and knew he was thinking the same thing as he glanced around at some of the others. 

“And finally, the gala!” Karga grinned hugely. You all knew he’d been looking forward to this for months, if not years – May would mark the 5th anniversary since he’d taken over and then renamed and reinvigorated NBT. The gala was his baby. You could feel a sudden tension move through the room – many of the dancers were slated to do something new or interesting during the gala and you knew no one would want to give up their roles, which were meant to be a true showcase of the company’s talent. You briefly wondered if they’d be adding Djarin to the longer ballet again, and if so, how much strife that might cause with the principals who were supposed to be in it.

But it seemed Karga had a different idea. “We will keep what is already planned just as it is, with one exception. We’ll be adding a three-part pas de deux to the program for Din and a partner. it will be spread over the course of the night, woven between the other numbers.” You blinked, surprised – it was definitely a novel idea, and you could see others trying to hide their surprise as well. “We will announce Din’s partner, and any resulting changes, soon. Kuiil will choreograph this new pas de deux.”

The room couldn’t hide its reaction this time. There were murmurs and glances that betrayed everyone’s shock – Kuiil was a very contemporary choreographer, with an only somewhat neo-classical repertoire.

And everyone knew Din Djarin was a master of the classical style. You’d never seen or heard anything that would suggest he had any familiarity with, or even interest in, more contemporary or expressive styles.

You wondered if this had been the subject of their argument in Karga’s office.

“And so that is our plan! Thank you, everyone, for your attention. I leave you to your rehearsals.” Karga nodded and swept from the room. The door closed behind him and the noise level rose sharply as everyone began to discuss his announcements. You heard Adrian and Owen start guessing at the changes in the February Balanchine number and your eyes strayed across the room to find Djarin.

But he was already gone. You caught only a glimpse of his shoulder as he slipped out the door.

…

The next few days were unremarkable, despite all of the recent changes. Djarin attended morning class but always slipped out the door as soon as it was over. As far as you knew, none of the other dancers had even had a conversation with him yet. He seemed to always be slipping out the door of every room as soon as he could. 

With opening night only two weeks away, your rehearsal hours were filled with the Nutcracker and little else. As Djarin wasn’t going to be in it, you never saw him in the afternoons. You heard updates from the others – Clara told you about some of the changes to the February Balanchine ballet, and Yuri had seen Djarin working on his solo for January with Talia. They had apparently chosen a medley of moments and scenes from La Bayadère, which seemed perfect for someone with Djarin’s level of skill. Talia had to be beside herself – technically challenging ballets were her favorite.

Adrian had the full rundown on who had been shifted around and who had been given new roles in the April show, and it sounded like everyone was at least mollified if not happy about the changes.

You didn’t see Djarin again outside of the morning company class for almost two weeks. It was late in the evening on a Wednesday – you’d had some physical therapy exercises for your ankles to complete after your last rehearsal, and you were finally headed home to have dinner and rest before a couple of easier days of show prep. The two-week run of Nutcracker performances would start on Friday and you needed the rest before the chaos began. 

You turned the corner into the building’s large lobby and found him kneeling on the ground in front of a small child. Maybe 4 or 5 years old, if you had to guess. He was adjusting the kid’s jacket and talking to him softly.

You retreated around the corner and tried not to draw attention to yourself, but you couldn’t help but stare as you came to a stop. 

“Hey,” Djarin’s deep voice sent a shiver down your spine. It was soft and warm as he spoke to the (his?) kid. “You ready to go home?”

The kid nodded, and his little green hat flopped around on his head as he did so. You glanced between them and for the first time, you saw Din Djarin smile. It spread across his face and you watched, mesmerized, as a dimple appeared in his cheek and his eyes crinkled. 

It was beautiful. He was beautiful. Shit. 

“Alright, kid. Let’s go.” Still smiling, he stood and held out his hand. The kid grabbed two of his fingers and they headed for the door. You were pretty sure they hadn’t even noticed you were there.

You blinked, a bit dazed. As you slowly moved towards the door yourself, you decided it had to be his kid – he’d mentioned going home, after all. And it put all of his quick exits in a new light, if he had childcare to worry about. 

You resolved not to mention this new possibility to the rumor mill.

…

By the end of the two week run of Nutcracker, you were exhausted. Long days of class, sometimes a short rehearsal, and early call times for shows left you worn out and ready for a break. On the Monday after a final show you always felt like you’d been hit by a truck, and this Monday was no different. You slept in for once, looking forward to a few days off for the holidays and a slow return to steady rehearsals after the new year.

In those few weeks you hadn’t seen any sign of the kid again. You’d barely seen Djarin at all, once again only catching sight of the back of his head as he slipped out of the door after morning class. (Whether you’d been watching him even more during class wasn’t something you wanted to own up to, even to yourself.) Given the hectic Nutcracker schedule and the fact that he wasn’t in the show, you weren’t really surprised that you hadn’t run into him.

You spent a comfortable few days relaxing, cleaning, and visiting friends before starting to prepare for the busy return to rehearsals in January.

During your first few days back in the studio in the new year, you focused on getting through class and warming yourself up. A few days off wasn’t enough to get truly rusty, but it felt nice to stretch and focus on moving your body.

After class on Thursday you found yourself alone as you walked down the hallway towards rehearsal for the January mixed program. You’d stopped to chat with Alexa for a few minutes about a tricky section of your choreography as Hermia in Midsummer, which was coming up at the end of February. It seemed everyone else was gone by the time you were done – you said goodbye to her and stepped out into an empty hall. As you walked you went over the choreography again in your mind, remembering Alexa’s advice about staying connected through the movements and briefly closing your eyes to focus.

Eyes still closed, you turned the corner to walk past the administrative offices and collided face-first with something tall and warm. And muscular. Your hands came up belatedly to catch you.

“Oh!” You startled and opened your eyes to find both of your hands resting on a broad chest in a tight black shirt. You blinked and lifted your gaze, pretty certain you knew who you would find. 

Din Djarin looked down at you with an unreadable expression. You blinked and realized his big hands were cupping your elbows, holding you upright.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking—“ you cleared your throat and tried to step back from him, but for a moment he held you in place. You met his eyes again and couldn’t read anything in them. 

Then he released you suddenly and you both took a step back. “Sorry. I was thinking about some choreography and not where I was walking.”

Djarin nodded and spoke the first words he’d ever said to you directly, face still expressionless. “It’s fine.” His voice was deep and somehow warm, despite how closed off he seemed.

You hesitated, remembering how Karga had encouraged all of you to be welcoming, weeks ago. “I don’t think I’ve introduced myself.” You did so then and bit your lip. 

He nodded and did the same, even though you obviously knew his name. “Din. Nice to meet you.”

You nodded, too. “Are you heading to rehearsal?” You motioned behind him in that sort of let’s-walk-together way that people tended to do. He nodded and turned and you found yourself walking casually next to Din Djarin. You wracked your brain for a topic of conversation. 

“Um,” you started without looking at him. “What are you working on this afternoon?”

You felt him look at you but didn’t look back. “My solo for later this month, with Talia, and then joining the Balanchine rehearsal for February.” You felt a shiver travel down your spine. His voice – you weren’t sure you were going to get used to it any time soon. It was so deep.

You nodded, glancing at him. He was still looking at you. “How’s it going?”

His expression didn’t change at all. “It's fine. Most of them were in Nutcracker so it’s picking up more now.” You nodded again. You weren’t sure what to say next, but to your surprise, he asked you a question.

“Have you danced the lead in marzipan before this year?”

You were surprised, but answered easily. “Once. I was in it but not the lead last year, and Yuna was sick for one of the shows. She was sugarplum this time. I, um, just made first soloist this year.” You could hear your self-deprecating tone and hoped he wasn’t thinking you weren’t up to it. You didn’t think he’d really noticed you – or anyone, for that matter – in class. 

But he surprised you again. “I saw one of the shows. You danced it well. Like you know it perfectly, but you made it your own. It felt light and airy. Like it should. I liked what you did with the pirouettes in the middle. And the rond de jambes at the end.”

With each compliment in his steady, matter-of-fact tone you felt the heat rise more in your cheeks. Your mouth fell open in surprise. You’d never heard him say so much all at once. “Oh! Um, thank you. I– well. Thank you.” He’d noticed you? And not just you, but the small ways you had tried to make the choreography your own? He’d seen that? You were stunned.

You looked at him again but found nothing in his expression. It was impossible to tell what he might be thinking. You wondered if you should say something else, or compliment him in return, but you’d reached the rehearsal studios and he turned to enter the smaller one. 

“See you in class.” He slipped through the door and was gone. 

You blinked and turned slowly to continue down the hall. You found Karga walking slowly towards you from the opposite direction.

“Hello, my dear,” he smiled warmly. “I see you’ve met Din.”

You nodded. “Yes, well. We’ve been in class together, of course. But yes, we just met. Officially, I guess.”

He patted your shoulder as he passed you. “Good, good. Have a good rehearsal.”

You thanked him and continued towards the studio in a daze, with Djarin’s – no, Din’s – voice running through your head. You danced it well. 

You couldn’t wait to tell Adrian. He was never going to believe it.

...

prev | next

a/n: we've met Din! 👀 some ballet notes ~

Classical vs. contemporary ballet - this is a pretty good (short) overview. Din's old company (CBC) was basically classical-only, which is how some are. Here's a short clip of a classical performance vs. a very contemporary one.

"Mixed programs" vs. story ballets - most companies will have some number of story ballets on the schedule every season (think Swan Lake, Cinderella, Giselle, Sleeping Beauty, etc.) which draw a bigger audience, and then various "mixed programs" that fill in gaps between them. Mixed programs are a chance for in-house choreographers to share their new creations, or for the company to showcase their skills with other known works, ex. Balanchine's shorter ballets (~20-30 minutes). Many companies have certain numbers in their repertoire that they can pull out for this reason.

Nutcracker - many companies have some number of Nutcracker performances on their schedule during or just before the holidays, and sometimes they cast (local) kids in various roles, too. Reader is dancing the role of Marzipan, and she also mentions the Sugar Plum Fairy. These roles have semi-set choreography, usually, depending on which version a company is doing (there are many famous versions). This short video is great and gives some insight into the ways a dancer might try to make very prescribed choreography her own (with voiceover from Emma Von Enck that inspired Din's compliments about pirouettes and rond de jambes). Many dancers have been in the Nutcracker because a lot of local companies and schools do performances of it every year (think school-aged kids doing it for the community).

Pirouette - a turn on one leg (in a variety of positions)

Rond de jambe - a half circle made with the leg. It's kind of like drawing the letter D on the floor or in the air.

Din's solo - they decide that Din is doing a sort of medley of variations (solos) from La Bayadère, a classical ballet, in the January program. Here's one of his variations and here is another from later in the ballet. (Here's a few dancers doing that first one, and Isaac Hernandez, also featured in the fic header!)

Symphony in C (the Balanchine ballet Din is joining) - a 32 minute ballet with over 50 dancers. There are some videos at the link. It has 4 movements and each one features a principal couple and a few other dancers.

tag list coming in a reblog!

[accio-victuuri]

THANK YOU, FILMMAKER WANG YIBO… 💕🫶🏼

this is a sort of recap post for the huabiao awards and basically a post to celebrate yibo and the amazing actor that he is. i know that we all have mixed feelings about this, and every other nomination that he didn’t win, but it’s important to go back to why we are here and support him. it’s because he is yibo and his works do not disappoint both the fans and the general audience. we already won when we watched those films — whenever that was for you.

we were all holding our breath if he will make it to the red carpet, sadly, he didn’t. that actually went on hs. his schedule was already so tight with the race and flying to qingdao. thankfully, his team took some excellent photos of him and with all the racer 85 related props 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

then as soon as he sat down, he was a bit late to the ceremony too, the host cued him and mentioned his name. he stood up and bowed to the audience. i love the cheers for him!

the award for outstanding actor was early, i guess all of us got nervous and hopeful that he will get it. he didn’t but he was so gracious. he was nodding and clapping. the tag on hs for him is how you can’t lipread what he’s saying. some are guessing that he said that it’s not easy, meaning it’s not easy to win it. and considering he was up against zhang yi, it makes sense.

you probably read about how hard it is to get nominated for this category. this award is given every 2 years. no distinction between supporting and main actor and there are only 2 nominees. just imagine all the eligible movies and actors — but still, yibo was chosen. he is the first post 90s actor to get nominated. and this is technically, within his first year of being a movie actor and releasing his works.

i have no bad blood with zhang yi. he is a well loved actor and what a coincidence that they both posted about each other’s movie before, and now, they ended up being nominated side by side.

yibo recognizes excellence. if anything, i’m sure this makes him want to strive more to be on that level. i’m trying hard to not quote timothee chalamet’s SAG speech here but it fits so well — “ i know we’re in a subjective business, but the truth is I’m really in pursuit of greatness. I know people don’t usually talk like that, but I want to be one of the greats.” and he is on his way to becoming one of the greats. it’s a privilege to watch him grow into that, and i hope we all stay on for years to come and see it happen.

the surprise was how he was actually gonna be onstage. not only that, he was there with zhang ziyi and jackie chan to give a tribute to Chinese Cinema. it makes me proud to see him be the representative of the young generation. because he really is. and he doesn’t even need to pretend and perform to be that — he already is. it comes natural to him.

overall, he was in a good mood. why wouldn’t he? he is attending an event celebrating the movies he worked hard for. tho my favorite is when he smiled like a kid after he presented on stage and how he was interacting with his seat mates — especially Ma Li.

lastly, i’ll talk about some pre-awards chatter. weeks before, people were talking about if yibo would go or not. moreso, if he will be nominated. it’s so ironic cause his antis were babbling about how people that are not invited are blacklisted cause it’s the 120th anniversary celebration. but lo and behold — not only is he attending. all the films he participated in are nominated. he is nominated as best actor. and during the broadcast, he went onstage with jackie chan and zhang ziyi. 😂😂😂😂

it’s the usual song and dance. it’s yibo’s favorite past time. proving his haters wrong.

same thing with them saying he is “banned” because it’s been a while since his last movie project - mermaid. clearly not. tonight’s program showed how he is the movie darling. he is just doing what he said he will be in his past interview, that he wants to experience the world to be able to be better in his craft. i couldn’t get that out of my head when he said it and that explains all his decisions. he is gonna be so selective with his next movie project and i’m excited what he picks next! he’s always had an excellent intuition of what roles will work well and challenge him. the rest can breathe for a while cause he is not coming for their wigs — yet. lol. i have a feeling that as soon as mermaid is out, he is gonna raise the bar again. we just have to wait patiently.

anyway, that’s all. the road ahead is long and we will continue to accompany actor wang yibo! 💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼