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Mutual Help | #57

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.2k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

When you truly think about it, you've probably let Jungkook in in more ways than one. Being in his presence is tempting. He is a temptation that messes up with your head. It is one of the reasons why you think the so-called break has been a smart decision. But he's not all that. He is still the same Jungkook whose presence is comforting. It's times like these when you're reminded of how much you love your friends.

Catching up with him and talking about how the day has been for each of you, isn't something new. There's not that much that has changed. You only stopped fucking each others brains out. Though, you hate how much you already miss it. And you shouldn't feel like this. But you also don't want to overthink anything, or keep your mind busy with something that's probably better not to think about.

Your dreams have been wild, the only time where you actually go back to how things were. Not all of them though. Maybe two or three since the camping trip and your decision.

Despite the inner struggles, Jungkook is your comfort person. Oddly enough, even though he's in the center of your thoughts, he brings you the biggest peace and comfort.

Tonight wasn't planned.

Luckily, you're always prepared when it comes to unplanned visits. All three of them love to surprise you (not that you mind), so your cupboard is never without at least one bottle of wine. Not being a much of a drinker yourself on casual evenings, you still suggest having a glass or two.

Jungkook agrees. After reminding you of him having to drive back home, you suggest him staying over. He agrees again. Maybe him staying overnight might not be the best for your hormones, you are forced to believe in yourself. Isn't this the whole purpose of this? To go back to just being friends, the ones you've been two years ago?

When you think about those times, you think of happiness. Surrounded by the greatest friends you could've ever asked for.

“Mind opening it?”

Jungkook looks up, finding you standing in your kitchen with a bottle of wine in your hand, a wine opener in the other. Standing up, he goes to help you without any words but there's a slight amused smirk on his lips when you hand him everything.

You share a look, not forgetting to playfully roll your eyes at him.

“So many bottles of wine and still can't open any of them.” he teases you, hinting at all the wine one of them had to open.

“Listen,” you muse, “You guys always whine about wanting to drink wine.”

“That's not true,” he laughs, knowing that he's bluffing. “We would drink anything.” he adds, which holds some truth to it for sure.

Feigning irritation, you motion for him to hurry. You watch him attentively, leaning yourself against a kitchen counter while he puts those muscles to work. He cuts the foil below the lower lip of the bottle, showing you how easy it is with a teasing tilt to his brow. Trying to hold back your laugh, you purse your lips instead before he inserts the screw in the center of the cork. He rotates it a few times, you're not sure because his eyes are on you.

“You're so cocky.” you comment, his brows shooting up as he lets out an audible laugh.

“What? I am not,” he argues, laughing. “You're just too amusing to look at.”

He levers cork, at least he tries to because it seems to be stuck. It's going harder than usual, which you can tell from all the times you had the opportunity to see a similar scene. His brows furrow and lips press into a thin line.

You cackle, “Maybe you got too cocky, buddy.”

“Shut up.” he mutters, his muscles bulging as a pop sound resounds, signaling the cork is levered successfully.

Maybe not so much, because in a seconds the wine spills around Jungkook, staining his shirt as well. You gasp, a hand over your mouth as you two share a look. Bursting out laughing, you shake your head.

“What did I say, too cocky.”

“Would you do it better?” he challenges, causing your grin to drop as your eyes narrow.

He puts the bottle down, the wine opener already in your sink as you grab a few kitchen paper towels and dry off all the spilled wine. Luckily, it's just a few droplets and no disaster is made. However, Jungkook's shirt has suffered the most. His entire white shirt is filled with dark red spots, turning purple from the wine's color.

He sighs in a slight annoyance, easily grabbing the back of his shirt as he effortlessly pulls it over his head. Almost choking on your spit, you try to not react too much as you quickly throw away the wet paper into the bin. But you straighten yourself too quickly, almost bumping into Jungkook's chest as you stare wide-eyed at him. He looks down on you, confused by your almost panic-struck face.

“What? Already too nervous at the sight of my chest?” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You purse your lips, trying to play it cool as you chuckle. “You got naked all of a sudden. You just caught me off guard.”

“Is this me naked?” he laughs, “Come on.”

“You know what I meant.” you say through clenched teeth, poking him in his stomach, ignoring how hard it feels. “Besides,” you start, gulping. “Break, remember?”

“I just took my shirt off,” he laughs, throwing his head back as you're met with his soft dimples and white toothy grin. “You never minded it before.”

“I never fucked you before, did I?” You lean yourself against the counter once again, hand gripping the edge of it tightly.

Jungkook notices it, his amusement not so hidden behind the little twitch of his lips. Eyes back on you, they dance across your soft and slightly panicked features. “Am I that irresistible?”

“Cocky again?” you shoot right back, not giving him that pleasure of confirming his thoughts and feeding his ego. But he knows. One look at you and he seems to know it all.

You make a mistake by allowing your eyes to drop, first at his lips and they disobediently trace down his chest, muscles and then the deep V-line. Oh fuck, you want this man . You mentally scream at yourself and throw hands, definitely disappointed in yourself. He's barely doing anything and you're ready to drop down on your knees.

“What's the point of taking a break, if we can't control ourselves?” you ask out loud, not quite sure if those words are only aimed at Jungkook, or you're letting your consciousness speak out loud.

He watches you for a moment, getting closer and you stumble back, awkwardly getting back to your previous spot as he tries to hold back a laugh. It's not your fault your body is reacting! And your mind panicked.

“Don't know about you, but I can control myself.” he says.

“You can?” you ponder.

“Mhm,” he nods, “Otherwise I would kiss you by now.”

“Kook!” you exclaim, already panting at those words as he gives you a smile. You don't look long enough to detect what kind.

“I would.” He's not ashamed to admit it.

You watch him wet his lips. They look inviting. Automatically, your mind replays many times you've got to taste them, actually more than that. Your entire body feels hot, too hot in this small kitchen and you don't know whether to scream or cry.

“Break, remember?” he reminds you, a smirk dancing all over those damn lips and stunning features. He brushes past you, the stained shirt gripped in his hold as he makes his way to your bathroom.

You don't move. You can't.

All you muster to do is gulp all the saliva that have collected in your mouth, touching your hot cheeks with the back of your hand. Letting out a loud exhale, you ignore your strong heartbeat that feels like it's in your neck.

Quickly grabbing the two glasses for you and him, you ignore the sharp ringing sound. Suddenly, you're desperate for the wine – very happy about your friends insisting to have one at your place at all times.

Perhaps, wine is not what you're desperate for at all.

This is exactly what you were talking about.

Among all the things that are going against the morality of any friendship, thinking of Jungkook a certain way feels forbidden. And it should be. Maybe it is a little dramatic because it's not like you spend every minute of your day, thirsting over your best friend. But you've caught yourself thinking of him a few times a day.

Just a few days after you came back from the trip, Maya visited your place for the first time. In fact, she sat on the exact spot where Jungkook is sitting right now. At first, you never felt like bothering her with your stupid shit, especially when she's in the middle of planning her wedding while working every day like a normal human being.

But you couldn't take it.

You wanted to take things off your mind, undoubtedly connected to only one person who's closest to you. Now in more ways than two years ago.

However, you did want to get things off your chest as well and eventually, you've found your way back to him.

“I think I made a bad decision.” you told her when the topic Jungkook started.

Now, Maya might be the person who absolutely understands the craving and temptation he brings inside you, but she has also become your best friend whom you can share your inner battles with.

“I shouldn't feel this way.”

“First of all, I think it might be a good decision to stop thinking of what should and shouldn't feel right. You're overthinking it.” she told you, ignoring your slightly offended look you sent her way.

“He's my best friend.” you gritted through your teeth, suddenly growing overwhelmed with those thoughts again.

Deep down, you know you made the right decision. You know the reason why you made it in the first place. Yet, here you are, regretting it.

“Y/N, honey,” Maya's silky and comforting voice caught your attention. She angled her body toward you, leaning her head against her palm. “That feeling of… wanting him is not gonna go away with a snap of fingers.”

You frowned. You frowned for a while while she let you ponder in silence.

“I did it so we could focus on being friends. No intimacy.” you almost whispered, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“And it's okay still wanting him to bend you over and fuck you.”

“Maya!”

You both laughed, the girly laugher filling your once quiet and sad place.

“It's okay to have regrets. Just go with the flow.”

That's the last thing she advised you before you asked her about the wedding. She advised you something you and Jungkook did – and look where it brought you.

Luckily for your sake, Jungkook has had a shirt in one of your drawers, the result of him staying at your old place a few times. Actually, you're sure there are a few Taehyung's things in one of your drawers as well.

Gulping down your nerves with your wine, you naturally grow warm and relaxed. You barely pay any attention to the movie, focusing on how Jungkook's shoulder and side of his body feels… nice. You tend to get sleepy and cuddly (among other things) when tipsy. You're on your third glass of wine, nowhere near drunk but the exhaustion of today has caught up to you.

Jungkook's legs are outstretched, resting on your coffee table which you used to scold him for. Even though you often caught yourself doing the very same thing. Is it fair to scold someone for things you do as well?

“Kook?”

“Hm?” The soft, yet husky hum resounds from the man beside you, his hands resting on his stomach.

“What do you think about… the break ?” You cringe at giving it a proper name.

Though, Jungkook understands what you mean. He's quiet for a moment and when you lift your head up, you see his confused expression before his eyes settle down on you.

“Because you never told me what you think.”

Staring at him, you notice his hair is longer than the last time you've seen him. It's not been that long ago, yet you notice the small change. You wonder if he's going to grow it out like last time.

“Why you asking? Already regretting it, hm?” he teases, nudging you a little as your cheeks heat up.

“What? No!” It sounds like a proper lie and your throat tightens.

Whether Jungkook knows it or not, he decides not to tease you any further as his eyes focus on the screen of your television once again.

“I don't know what I think of it,” he responds after a while. “You told me the reason behind it and I respect it.”

“But do you agree with it?”

“Where is this coming from?” he frowns, though it's soft and confusing, just like your little and sudden integration is.

“Can you just answer?” you ask in annoyance.

“Yeah, I agree with it.” He says, “Maybe we got carried away too much.”

He leans forward, causing your head no longer leaning against him as he grabs his glass of wine and takes a few sips of it before getting back to his previous position. This time, you're watching him attentively. Your head leaned against the couch while the movie goes completely ignored. You watch the dark liquid in his glass, swirling it around.

Did you get carried away too much?

The only thing that changed was the fact you were having sex. Okay . Plus the never-ending thirst and temptation. Jungkook has shown you a different side of sex, something you've never experienced before. Perhaps, that's the reason why it felt so hard to let go.

And you panicked. With the events that happened lately, you felt like you wanted to go back to when none of this happened. But were your arguments happening because you were having sex?

“Do you miss it?”

Jungkook's brows lift up as you earn another glance from him. “You asking me if I miss fucking you?”

Your face gets hot all over again. “When you put it like this…”

He chuckles, leaning his head back as he stares at the ceiling. “It's been like a week.” he informs you.

As if you don't know. And what a week it has been!

You're just curious, blaming it on the wine because your thoughts are set free.

“I hope you know that when I look at you, sex isn't what I see.”

You look at him, ears perked up in attention as your heart flutters. “I know.” you whisper.

“I'm not Taehyung. I can go without sex.” he says, a loud snort rippling through your throat as you cover your mouth. He gives you an amused grin.

A silence follows and your thoughts work. Actually, they never stopped and now the alcohol inside you just urges them on.

“I had a sex dream of you.”

Completely oblivious of Jungkook taking another sip, he chokes on the dark liquid as he straightens himself from his position, gulping before coughing. “Jesus, Y/N.”

You give him an amused grin. “It was hazy. It didn't feel like a proper dream, you know what I mean? I feel like I had five dreams that night.”

It's true. You had a dream with him. It was very brief, much to your disappointment it ended too soon.

“This makes me sound like I'm thinking with my dick only.”

“You have no dick, Y/N.” Jungkook reminds you, snickering.

“You know what I mean.” you mutter in response.

Jungkook settles down his wine. He's a little surprised to see you sitting up, watching him attentively as he leans back. “What?”

“Nothing, you look good.”

For the second time tonight, Jungkook almost chokes on his spit. Shaking himself out of the sudden shock, he clears his throat. “Are you flirting with me?”

“No,” you say like it's the clearest thing in the world. “Just saying.”

He frowns, eyeing you suspiciously. As if he can't quite figure out what's going on inside your head. “Are you drunk?”

Jungkook knows you and your limits. You're a little tipsy, so is he but you definitely seem to show it more than he is.

“No.”

You sigh, sitting onto your heels before briefly tracing the veins that adore Jungkook's hands and arms. Is it June night or has it suddenly gotten too warm?

Jungkook catches you eyeing him, trying to hide his subtle smirk. He knows. “Break, remember?”

“Mhm,” you hum, completely ignoring the little reminder. “What a stupid idea.”

“Okay, I think you're drunk.”

“No, I am not.” you argue, frowning at him as he watches you in complete amusement. “I've thought about it a lot.”

“Is the wine making you horny?” Jungkook questions.

No, you do.

Though, you keep your mouth shut. You ignore him. “I know why I made that decision…” you trail off.

Jungkook raises his brow, waiting for you to continue. But? It's written all over his face.

“I miss you.”

He stares, blinking a few times. “You mean you miss my–”

“No, no. Maybe. I mean, no. You're not just that to me–” you quickly hurry to explain.

The problem is, you're not sure how to explain whatever it is you want to say. Whatever you think of pours out of your mouth. Usually you have enough time to think of what you're about to say, but right now you're unhinged. Maybe it's the result of your own frustration.

He is patient.

He's confused as fuck, well probably – at least you think so because his expression is neutral and he simply watches you, not ushering to explain or elaborate more.

He watches your eyes dance across the space around him, until your eyes settle on him. Then wander over his body until you shamelessly eye his wet lips, tainted by wine a little. He knows that look. He has seen it on many occasions.

“I'm not drunk, I promise.” you suddenly tell him. “I know I make no sense right now but…”

“Tell me what you want,” he tells you simply. “What's going on inside that pretty head?”

And you almost fold immediately, cursing that mouth of his.

“Trust me, it's not that pretty right now.” you mutter.

He laughs, “I can imagine.”

Ignoring what's that supposed to mean , you shift on your spot. “I know I wanted a break, but what if we did this one last time?”

You hate how nervous you suddenly feel. Is it embarrassing to admit such a thing? The last time you had a sex it wasn't under great conditions. It was mind-blowing and definitely did the work, but still.

Scooting closer to him, he attentively watches you as you lick your lips. “I mean… There's something I would like to try. And I trust you the most.”

Jungkook pulls his feet off the coffee table, setting them down on the floor as you make your way toward him. He lets you. He even helps you to sit down in his lap. Your hands are sprawled across his chest, slowly caressing the thin material as you feel his muscles under it.

“You're finally gonna let me fuck this ass?” he asks, eyes hooded lazily as he grabs your ass and squeezes the soft flesh.

Excitement floods your lower region, what could be considered as butterflies swirl inside your stomach.

“Fuck no,” you breathe out, “You're not going anywhere near my ass.”

Jungkook pouts, cheeks tinted pink from the wine he has drank. “Shame.”

You giggle, “Just one more time.” you tell softly, inching closer as your lips hover over his.

He breathes out, nose nudging yours. One thing is sure, alcohol sometimes makes both of you horny. You're not the type to go and look for a potential hook-up out there. And neither is Jungkook. At least you think so.

“You agree?”

“You're making this very hard for me, you know that, right?” Jungkook mutters, lips almost touching yours as his hold on your asscheeks tightens.

“Why's that?” you hum, teasingly playing with his hair until your fingers caress the nape of his neck.

“You just do,” he says before adding, “First you want a break and now you're on my lap, giving me those eyes.”

“What eyes?” you play clueless, causing him to chuckle.

“Those fuck me eyes.”

“You said you wanted to kiss me in the kitchen.”

“I did.” he hums, agreeing.

“You want this too, right?”

He looks up, lazily, eyes clouded with need and lust.

Again. He is your comfort place. He is comfortable and being in a position like this – you've got no regrets and you want him. Even if it's for the last time for God knows how long. There's no telling if you're ever going back to hooking-up. Usually, that is the plan when there's a word break involved.

Fuck focusing on your friendship for now. What did Maya say? Go with the flow?

“Yeah, but I don't want you to regret anything.”

“I'm never gonna regret this.”

You're not sure who moves first. Whether it's you or Jungkook, it doesn't matter. Your lips finally meet in a hard kiss, molding together as he deepens it. He kisses you, hard and needy, and you almost cry at that feeling. Fuck, you really did miss this. Before you can think of how wrong this might be, your want for him, you completely ignore it. Any possible morals are out of the window as you gasp into Jungkook's mouth.

He tastes like wine. You both do.

Eventually, you're forced to pull away to catch a breath. Jungkook's crotch underneath you hardens, informing you that he's aroused just as much as you are.

“What you had in mind?” he asks, voice raspy.

Pulling away with a smile, you turn off the television as you stretch your hand toward him. He watches you, slowly taking it as his big hand envelopes yours. He gets to his feet, his lean and hard body touching your side as you grow impatient. You lead him toward your bedroom, closing the door with a loud thud but not before turning off the lights in your living room. The bills are important, right?

Jungkook stands at the edge of your bed before you swiftly push him, causing him to sit down with a tiny smirk. Ignoring the smug face, you stand between his legs.

“Should I be worried?” he asks, hands on your hips as he caresses them. Trying not to swoon too much over that simple action, you pry his hands off you.

“Lay down.”

His brows raise momentarily.

“I see.” he mutters knowingly.

“Now.” you urge him, glaring at his smirk widening. “Wait.”

He cocks his brow at you.

“Take off the damn shirt.”

He chuckles, reaching behind him and tugging the shirt over his head. Fuck . Does he have to look attractive even while taking his shirt? God. Fucking hell. You did miss him.

Tossing the shirt on the floor, he sits there watching you up and down as you just stand there and admire his figure. One he worked hard for, yet it paid off entirely.

Fucking wine.

Before you can demand another thing, he gives you one last look of amusement before he scurries further down your mattress. You watch him lay down, making himself comfortable on your pillows as he leans his upper body against the bed frame. What a sight he is.

He watches you, silently and attentively, the entire time you get to your closet. You slide the door open, rummaging the bottom of it. His eyes are on you. You feel them on your back, watching your every move. While the fire that sits in the pit of your stomach, full of excitement, you pull out the item you've been looking for.

Just as you slide the closet door closed and turn around to face him, you see his smirk drop as he stares genuinely taken back. Now it's your turn to smirk as you swirl the fluffy pink handcuffs Taehyung kindly gifted you around your point finger.

“Fuck no.”

The response is immediate.

You get on the bed, taking the handcuffs with you of course. Jungkook watches you with a frown settled on both his face and lips. You get onto his lap, sitting right on top of his hardening cock.

“Why not?”

“I'm not getting handcuffed.” he states, eyeing you carefully as you place them beside you and start caressing his naked chest.

It's clear to say you want to be in control. It's debatable though. Whenever Jungkook has shown his dominant side when it came to sex, you were just as much in control. And you love and enjoy every second of him being in charge. This time, you want to be on top and play with him. Or maybe that sounds wrong. You want to give him pleasure, focus on him. To try something new.

You get closer to Jungkook, kissing his sharp jaw as he clenches it, watching you carefully but not moving just yet. You're sly. He's reminded of you being a little minx. You continue your path down his neck, kissing his skin as his chest moves, breathing slow and steady. His chest is neck, you pepper the skin with soft kisses just as you stop below the hem of his jeans.

He bites onto his lower lip harshly, meeting your gaze as you look up through your lashes.

“Can I take them off?” you ask, talking about his jeans.

“You don't have to ask.”

You grin, reaching for the belt as you undo it. His button and zipper are next before Jungkook helps you to take off his jeans.

“Just wanna make you feel good,” you tell him, eyeing his hardening and evident erection. “Can I make you feel good?”

“Fuck,” he sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “You wanna be in control, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “What? You think I can't do it?”

His lips twitch. “No, no.” he assures you, though you're not sure if he's telling the truth.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you cup his bulge as you get on your knees, leaning down to his crotch. You palm him, his jaw clenched while you're trying not to moan at the feeling of his hard cock. Just the thought of pulling him out and having him inside you makes you wet.

Giving him one last look, you momentarily stop before you lean down completely and press a kiss to where his tip is, on top of his briefs.

“Fucking hell,” he gasps. “You're already teasing me.”

“What? No. I'm just taking my time.” you assure him cutely, smirking up at him which tells him otherwise.

Before he can react, you lift yourself up and carefully straddle him. You reach for the handcuffs, ignoring the way his cock is almost digging into your own crotch.

“Y/N.” he warns you.

You pout at him. “But why?” you almost whine. “You scared of handcuffs or what?”

“Keep talking and you're gonna be the one handcuffed.”

“I promise I won't do anything bad.”

He watches you, frowning and not totally sold on your idea. It definitely has something to do with his male ego. Jungkook is naturally dominant and while he had you on top multiple times, you never handcuffed him or showed this type of dominance. You reach for your oversized shirt, tugging it over your head as you expose your breasts to him. He gulps, watching the way they bounce from the single movement. Your nipples are already perked up, sensitive like always and perhaps, it's from the arousal as well.

He goes to touch them, mindlessly and automatically. His mouth opens in shock when you slap his hand away, even though you want nothing more than for him to touch you.

“What–”

“I wanna try this, Kook.” You're playing with him already. You pout and give him the puppy eyes, finger trailing down his abs. “You always asked what I want to try and this is one of them.”

He sighs, hand rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, okay.”

“Really?”

Jungkook almost smiles at how excited you sound. What the hell are you planning?

In reality, you're just going with the flow.

You reach for the handcuffs, knowing they're going to work well with your bed frame. You can easily handcuff both of Jungkook's hands. But just as you're about to reach for his hands, he automatically pulls away which causes you to give him a glare. He rolls his eyes, offering you his wrists. You sit on your knees, telling him to lay down completely. He does, with the same frown that makes you giggle under your breath. You take his wrists and bring them up to your bed frame.

Jungkook takes that time to watch you work on the handcuffs from below, feeling them wrapping around his wrists. Wanting to curse, he drifts his attention elsewhere and watches your breasts that are right above him.

You pull back with a successful and triumphal grin, watching him tugs onto them. While he mentally curses Taehyung for giving you such a stupid gift ever, you admire your work. You lean forward again, making sure they hold and Jungkook takes that time enveloping your nipple into his mouth. You gasp and flinch at the sudden feeling, pulling back to find smirking Jungkook.

“Couldn't resist,” he says cheekily.

Despite his current and clearly submissive position, he looks anything like it. He's here, your cheeks hot and heart beating fast. You don't think you'll ever grow tired of him showing his crave for you. You've said it multiple times in your head, but you've never felt wanted as much as you feel with Jungkook.

“Well, then start resisting.” you say smartly, ignoring the smug face. “Stop looking so cocky, you bastard.”

But he doesn't stop. He's smirking, looking at you because despite everything, he's in control. Frowning at that, even though you secretly love it, you stand up and get out of your pajama shorts. Revealing that you aren't wearing any underwear, Jungkook watches you hungrily, his head lifted thanks to the pillows under it. He's got a good view of you at the end of your bed.

You smirk. Men. One look at a naked body and they fold.

“Come here and sit that pussy on my mouth.”

Or not.

You give him a look, seeing him lazily lay there with his arms above his head.

“You don't get to make demands.” you inform him, watching that smug face wipe away slowly.

While you're completely naked, you sit on his calves and lean down to play with the hem of his briefs.

“This is torture,” he informs you back. “This is exactly why I didn't wanna be in these fucking handcuffs.”

“Already complaining?” you throw back.

He presses his lips into a tight line, keeping quiet.

Torturing a little more, you hover him once more with lips dangerously close to his. “That's what I thought.”

He chases your lips but you pull away, giggling when you're met with the usual frown.

Getting back to your position, you pull down his underwear. His cock springs free, shamelessly slapping against his abdomen before it stands upright. Minus the little facade that you have going on of planning to tease him, you're just as desperate to move further if not more.

So you wrap your hand around the base of him, wrapping your lips around the tip as you taste his pre-cum. Jungkook sighs in delight, allowing himself to close his eyes in a sudden relief. You lick the underside of him, knowing what you have to do since you've done it multiple times before. This is nothing new, yet it still feels amazing each time.

The handcuffs make a sound against the wooden frame, just as you let your mouth wrap around him some more, taking him deeper. The clank of them makes you look up, biting back a laugh when you see Jungkook's frustrated face.

“What were you gonna do?”

He growls, warning you not to tease him some more. Well, it surely isn't as much fun for him as it is for you, but that doesn't mean he can't enjoy it. It makes sense. This is the first time where Jungkook can't touch you because he's physically unable to. You understand the frustration, you do. With a silent promise, you make it worth it.

Putting his cock inside your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and deliver him pleasure. Your hand and mouth works on him, and not even hair getting into your face stops you. You know if it weren't for Jungkook's hands not being available at the moment, he would wrap his hand around it, making sure it doesn't get in the way and he can see you.

“Mhm, yeah.” He mutters from above you, enjoying your mouth wrapped around him.

It's not enough, you know it isn't but you're not planning to make him cum. You've barely started and in order for him to enjoy this, there's more you want to do. You don't want to make it lame since this is your first time doing this. You're not going to lie. You like having him this… helpless. You enjoy it, it's a nice change from the usual cockiness.

You eventually pull away, making sure to suck him until the last minute. A trail of saliva connects the tip of his cock and your lips, causing you to wipe it with your thumb. He watches you the entire time with dark eyes, not questioning why you stopped.

This time, he lets you be in control because you don't look like you're about to deny his orgasm and make him truly suffer. On the opposite, he stares at you attentively as you simply turn around and throw your leg over his chest, facing him with his back.

“Fuck.” he curses silently from behind you, watching you lean forward to his cock once again.

However this time, your ass and cunt are right in his face. He sees how wet you are, just that alone makes him smirk because he knows you won't be able to withhold your own pleasure for much longer. After all, it does make his ego bigger knowing you're affected. You're clueless to his inner thoughts, even though you do realize how wet you are, it doesn't even cross your mind, not even when the air hits your core.

It's not until you have Jungkook's cock back in your mouth when you suddenly feel his mouth on you. You don't expect the swipe of his tongue, gathering your juices which makes you flinch in surprise. Throwing him a glance across your shoulder, you're met with the same cockiness you've seen a handful of times.

“Lemme eat this pussy out.” he almost begs.

“How am I supposed to focus then?” you question, the remains of wine causing you to speak your thoughts right away.

His lips twitch. You give him no reaction though, letting it up to him as you turn around and arch your back. Jungkook is a menace. He gets what he wants either way, shameless as ever as his mouth envelopes your clit as he sucks.

You gasp, leaning your forehead against his thigh while your hand stops working on his hard cock. For fuck sake. Frustration is what you feel because for a split second, you realize Jungkook is in control. He eats you out, your body and determination practically begging to be touched. Reminding yourself that this is not supposed to be totally about you, you force your hand to get to work. You're realizing you're not doing a half of a good job at delivering pleasure at the moment.

“Focus,” Jungkook says against your leaking cunt. You can imagine his mouth already being soaked in your juices, dripping it down his chest. Even the single imaginary sight of that makes you want to let out the biggest groan. “I thought you're great at multitasking.”

Apparently not when it comes to this , you want to bite back but you can't. You simply cannot. It's like the moment Jungkook touches you, you're already gone.

Somehow, after a moment of realization and determination yet again, you take him into your mouth.

“That's it,” he groans against you, sending vibrations right to your core. The wet sounds coming from behind you create a sinful proof of your doings, ones you don't mind at all.

You're close.

You can't focus.

Not with Jungkook's mouth that skilfully slowly but surely brings you to your end. And then the cocky bastard opens his dirty mouth again, not minding what it's been doing, not even a bit.

“Wanna spread this cunt. Come on, rub yourself against me.”

Ignoring Jungkook's pleas of wanting to be suffocated by your pussy, you shake yourself out of a familiar daze full of desire and lust. This bastard!

You pull away, not only to give him one last taste of your mouth, but also taking the approaching orgasm from yourself. Jungkook's quiet until a noise of both surprise and disappointment fills your bedroom. You get off his lap, facing him while you give him a perfect view of your messy appearance. One he's undoubtedly the reason for.

“Why would you do that?” he whines, tugging onto the handcuffs again. His face grows frustrated at the restraint.

And then it's gone. What was a frustration just a second ago, you watch his entire face morph into a perfect slowly growing smirk.

He's satisfied. Satisfied that once again, he proved you just how much control he has over you even with barely any way of touching you. He can't use his hands, he can barely move as they stay handcuffed above him, secured around your bed headframe. But that hasn't stopped him. No. He was cunning enough that at the first chance of being somewhat close to you, he used his mouth.

“You'll pay for that.” you inform him, trying to keep your features hardening and not to melt when Jungkook's lips stretch into a wide grin.

“For what?” he scoffs, “For almost making you cum?”

Ignoring the obvious and amused jab at you nearly losing it (when he's the one handcuffed), you nibble on your inner cheek.

“Come on, free me now. You had your fun.”

Your eye almost twitches at that.

“Lemme fuck you, you love it from behind, huh?”

Despite his nasty words leaving your stomach fluttering, more than it should, you don't let him get past your walls. You sigh, loud so he can hear it perfectly and maybe make him feel unsure of what's about to come. He stays silent. Watching you as you reach for your nightstand, you feel his eyes appreciating your nudity before they go back to wondering what you're doing.

You pull out the sex-toy he gifted you, the one you both used two or three times. His brows are pinched together, probably wondering what and who you're going to use it for.

Now, since you've never done this with Jungkook before, you being in full control which has proved to be debatable, you've no idea how he will possibly react. You can only assume. From being in an intimate relationship with Jungkook, you've learned a lot. Apart from the physical side of your own sexual preferences and desires, you've come to notice how Jungkook loves to feel you up. He loves to touch you, explore your body each time like he has never done before.

Even without having many sexual partners before, it's safe to say you've never felt more comfortable than being in Jungkook's hands. Quite literally. The way he touches you… he knows what he's doing.

Obviously, this is in a way a punishment for him. Actually, now that you think about it, you're not sure if he's doing it purely because you want to, or because of another reason.

So when you place yourself at the end of your bed, making sure you have enough space to lay down, you do exactly that. With one swift movement, you spread your legs apart, giving him a full on view on the thing he couldn't get enough of.

All cockiness is smeared off his face. And while triumph burns inside you – from this great achievement – a realization hits him.

“No.” he murmurs, watching the way you smirk as you turn on the sex-toy. You bring the fake imitation of cock to your clit, moaning at the vibration as soon as it touches you.

Bottom lip caught between your teeth, there's a clank resounding in front of you as your lips twitch. “I'm definitely having my fun now.”

“I was–I was just teasing. Come back here, baby.”

You should've probably taped his mouth shut. The freaking petname really tests your patience and determination.

“I'm serious.”

But he's ignored by you, at least you act like you can't hear him, enjoying the way he groans in protest. However, you can be just as teasing and you moan loudly, letting the dildo's tip enter you.

“Y/N,” he growls, “This is not funny.”

“Oh, fuck.”

You would have laughed if you weren't so focused. The truth is, you're sensitive down there – something that's caused by Jungkook and his always running mouth. As much as you itch to get to him and toss the sex-toy as far as possible, you don't give him that satisfaction. At least, not now.

“Who's in control now, Jeon?” you hum, opening your eyes clouded by both amusement and lust.

“Okay, I get it.” he grits through his teeth. “Come here.”

“Say it nicely and maybe I'll consider.”

If looks could kill, you're sure you would be six feet under. But one moment of leaning your head down, moaning out loud, you notice his jaw clenching before he clears his throat.

“Come here,” he says softly.

Cracking your eyes, you grin in achievement as you sit up. You're too impatient, you want to touch him. No scratch that. You want to feel him. You want him inside you. But you're playing your part in this act, making it seem as if you have all the time in the world.

You turn off the sex-toy, the one he probably mentally curses for buying, and you come closer to him. The expectation and despair on his face makes you want to laugh. He's cute. And freaking hot too.

His chest heaves, it glistens with a sheer coat of sweat. His cologne and scent that's glued to his skin has filled your bedroom. He watches you carefully, almost as if he expects you to tease him more. But when you sit back down on his thighs, facing him, he sighs in relief. His cock begs for attention and you give him a few pumps, ones that make his eyes flutter shut as he gets what he wants. Partly.

You leave the dildo next to you, planning on using it later as you glance at your nightstand. A look of surprise and then disappointment fills your face, one that Jungkook quickly questions.

“What?”

“I've got no condoms. You have some with you?”

Jungkook snickers, “You mean did I bring condoms with me when you decided to have a break from this ?”

You give him a glare, “I wasn't planning on having sex.”

“Do I look like I was?” he questions with a raise of his brow.

“Don't you have them with you most of the time?”

“Clearly not,” he rolls his eyes, “What's the issue anyways? I haven't had sex with anyone else.”

You're the one who rolls their eyes now, “You would be really quick if you have. It's been like a week since the trip.”

Deep down, you know Jungkook could've gone anywhere and had sex during this week. If he wanted to.

“And you know it's not about that.” you add.

“Let's end this with a bang. Since you know, we're not supposed to have sex then.”

“Are you mocking me?” you frown. He purses his lips to avoid smirking.

“What did you say? One last time?”

“You know, keep talking and I'm gonna finish myself in front of you.”

“Not what I had in mind but,” he acts as if he's thinking hard. “It would still be something. I love that cunt.”

Almost choking on your spit, you quickly recover. You need to wipe that smirk off his face. “Or I could just leave you here, handcuffed and naked.”

“You wouldn't!” he exclaims.

“Try me.”

He shakes his head with a disapproving frown. “We don't have that many options. Either raw or go to sleep.”

What are you even talking about? Your coincidence scolds you.

“You're right,” you say, already hovering. “I love this cock.” you tell him cheekily, watching his eyes widen just as you grab him by the base.

You bring it to your entrance, teasing him a little (and yourself too) but the glare he gives you just prolongs it. He lifts his hips, almost entering you and you gasp, giggling.

“Who's impatient now?”

“You're testing my patience right now.”

“If I were you, I wouldn't talk too much.” you hum, warning him cutely which causes his features to harden. Oh my god, perhaps you're enjoying this way more than you thought you would!

Despite everything, you don't want to deprive him and yourself of the pleasure. It's easier to give him one cheeky grin as you guide him to your entrance. His eyes dance across your exposed breasts, looking down at where you're about to connect. That's enough for you to slowly sink down his length, gritting your teeth from the immediate heat that swallows you whole.

Sex is amazing. But sex with Jungkook has shown you it's more than that.

You would've never thought how addicted you can become to this. Maybe it's a little too dangerous but you don't seem to care. Not at the moment anyway, not when he spreads your folds and stretches your warm and wet walls. Oh god.

It takes you a moment to fully sink down on him, his hard length settled inside of you as you feel every inch of him. Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. Though, he doesn't usher you to move and gives you space to get used to him. You swear you can feel him in your stomach.

Starting to roll your hips, your clit brushes against his pubes as his jaw tightens once again. That's not enough for him, but he doesn't voice the annoyance and frustration just yet. He lays his head down properly, dark eyes watching you and the way your body rolls.

You bite your bottom lip, momentarily closing your eyes just to open them and see him staring. “You like that, baby?” you joke, watching his hardening features turn into amused once as you both giggle.

“Baby?”

“You call me that too.”

“Mhm, I do.” he hums as you spread your palms over his chest and lean forward. “You love it.”

“Maybe a little bit too much.” you confess, laughing at your obvious confession.

And then you lift your hips, his cock rubbing against your wall which quickly wipes away his smirk. You let the head of his cock stay inside you, his entire length coated with your juices.

“Don't play with me,” he says. “This is torture.”

“Then beg.” you propose, watching his features turn into pure shock before they change into devastation.

It's funny. Makes you giggle all over again.

“What?”

“You heard me. Beg,” you grin, “Or what? Is that against your male ego?”

“You're so cruel,” he begs. “If I knew–Hey now!” he exclaims when you let him slide out of you, your lips curving into a smirk.

You get off him entirely, laying on your tummy beside him. Elbow leaned against the soft mattress, you prop up your chin on your palm. Jungkook groans, frustration getting the best out of him as you grab the vibration. Turning it on, you catch his attention as you press the vibrating tip against his hard cock. He flinches, cussing you out immediately.

“Yah!”

You laugh, “What? Does it hurt?”

“I don't know if you noticed, but I'm fucking hard and sensitive.” he grits through his teeth and you pout. “Just do something.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn off the sex-toy, playing into the little facade you created as you toss it away. Lifting yourself, you hoist your leg over his hips and face him with your back. He barely has any chance to react as you sink down on him again. This time, you actually move. He breathes out in relief.

“I knew you were a good girl.” he mutters, causing you to stop. “No, no. Continue.” he reacts immediately which makes you smile.

You hold your balance by gripping his legs, just below his knees as you start riding him. It's hard to focus on other things than just his cock inside you.

“Mhm, fuck.” You hear behind you, a soft moan leaving your own mouth when he hits your good spot.

You pick up your pace, your ass smacking against Jungkook's skin but when you start to feel the familiar heat gathering in your lower religion, you're forced to stop. You don't want to cum too soon. Jungkook whines, cursing under his breath.

“You're so whiny.” you comment, sending him a look of amusement across your shoulder.

He's frowning, mouth pouting without realizing as he tugs onto the handcuffs again. Realization hits him and that makes you laugh again. He forgot he's handcuffed and wanted to touch you.

“Just wait until you're done.” he threatens.

Ignoring the way your stomach tightens in excitement, you don't give him that satisfaction of recognizing his effect that he has on you. Instead, you turn around to face him, sitting back on his thighs as you lean toward him.

“One last time, remember?"

“You also said break and look at us now,” he bites back smartly. “When I asked you if you're gonna let me in, this wasn't what I had in mind. But I'm not complaining.”

You start tracing random patterns on his abs, they flex under your touch and you know he's holding himself back. “That would be awful if you were complaining.” you hum.

“Y/N,” he whines. “Just do something.”

“I told you. Beg… or ask nicely.” you hum, moving your finger up to his chest.

“Please,” he says dryly.

You lift your brow at him, giving him an unimpressed glare. “I said nicely.” you remind him.

He groans, almost ready to throw a tantrum. Oh, this is so much fun!

“Please, wanna fuck that pussy.”

You smile, leaning forward to get close to his face. His breath hitches as your lips hover over his. The faintest touch of them earns the corner of his lips before you pull away. You wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him a little before you put him inside you again. Jungkook hums and nods, obviously too joyful that you've finally listened. You don't waste any time, lifting your hips up and down as you ride him.

“This is what you wanted?”

“Fuck yes.” Jungkook breathes out, muscles tensing. “Fuck, that's it. Yeah, just like that.”

He says, forcing his eyes to stay open as he watches your breasts bouncing.

“Fuck, baby.”

Despite being fully engrossed in chasing your orgasm, you still smile in the midst of it.

You're close to cumming, stopping your movements shortly after which leaves Jungkook whining. Loud and clear.

“You were close, weren't you?” he teases after frustration slowly fades away.

“Shut up,” you bite.

“Come on. Fuck me. Please .” he begs softly.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you comply and move your hips again. This time, you don't stop. You chase your orgasm while Jungkook coaxes you through it.

“That's right, use me.”

“You like this?” you breathe out, throwing your head back as you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

“I love it,” he corrects you. “I'm gonna miss this cunt so much.”

“Don't say that,” you croak out. “You're making me regret things.”

“No regrets,” he groans. “Fuck, yeah.” He moves his hips up, meeting your thrusts in the middle as you whimper.

A few more thrusts and one big from Jungkook, you come undone above him. The knot snaps inside you and your entire body stills as your walls start clenching and unclenching. Your juices drip down Jungkook's length, undoubtedly staining your sheets as well but that's the least of your worries.

Jungkook watches you come back to reality, eyes clouded with lust.

“You think you can go for round two?” he asks, watching you breathe out an audible chuckle.

You can.

Giving him a nod, you settle onto rubbing his chest softly while trying to catch your breath.

“Uncuff me,” he says, stealing all your attention once again – this time not caused by the usual charms of the man under you. “Just wanna touch you.” he adds, softly and with a pout.

“What if I don't want you to touch me?” you hum, starting to roll your hips again which makes him hiss.

He grunts, closing his eyes. “Don't lie to yourself.”

Regardless of both of you aware of the lie, you keep smiling knowing he's damn right.

“I'm not gonna do anything, I swear.” he promises, whining as your movements deepen.

Feeling like you could chase your second orgasm of the night, you reach behind you and put your hands on his thighs. Jungkook stares, eyes wide despite the evident desire and need.

“Holy fuck, you're gonna be the end of me.”

You giggle. You freaking giggle and Jungkook swears he's done for.

“You little minx,” he grunts. “You wanna make me cum without me touching you? That's fucking cruel.”

“I like to be cruel sometimes.” you tease.

As much as you wish his hands would be on you, touching you everywhere and the way only he can, this is so much fun.

While Jungkook's eyes are the only touch you can feel, the dark irises leave hot traces all over your skin, you enjoy his attention on you. It's no secret he alone brings you more confidence than he can ever imagine. Not to grow sentimental, especially right now and at this dirty moment, but for that you'll be forever grateful to him. You're scared for what's about to come in the future. You're too scared to think about it and you automatically shut down any hints of those thoughts coming up.

You enjoy this while you can.

After this, you want to focus on your friendship with him. It's for the best.

You could easily regret doing this with him right now. Especially after the idea of taking a break. In reality, you don't. There are no regrets as of now and you hope they won't come. You won't allow it.

“Play with your tits, baby. Show me,” Jungkook pants.

Having you slowly start to bounce on his cock again brings a rush of heat to every inch of his body. You obey, grasping your breasts into your palms while you squeeze to soft flesh. Jungkook whines and groans, clearly still frustrated he can't touch them or anything at this point.

“Pinch your nipples.” he orders, not full of dominance like you're perhaps used to, but full of desperation.

You moan as you listen to him, bringing more pleasure to your body as you imagine it's Jungkook's hands instead. Eyes closed yet again, you can't bring yourself to keep them open. Your muscles strain, lungs begging for more air as you feel your heartbeat drumming in your eardrums.

“Fuck,” you pant, “Think I'm gonna cum.” you force yourself to admit, totally clueless to Jungkook obviously seeing and feeling it.

“Rub your clit for me. Fuck.”

Hand reaching between your legs, it's a little tricky to fully obey as you're still bouncing on his cock, close to cumming. You still rub your clit, whimpering and stuttering things you can't remember. Whatever leaves your mouth blends with the sounds of skin slapping. One hand on Jungkook's abdomen, you make sure you stabilize yourself while the other works on your clit.

“Keep going, keep going,” Jungkook whimpers. “Please, please, please.”

You do. Your thighs burn but nothing won't stop you. Orgasm comes crashing down on you for the second time. Your walls clench around Jungkook's cock, sucking him dry as Jungkook warns you of his own approaching orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming.” he manages to get out.

Just in time, you barely make it and lift yourself as Jungkook's thick cum shoots up. The warm liquid lands on your pussy, some of it getting onto your lower belly trickling down your thighs.

Jungkook curses under his breath, head dropping down onto pillows as his chest heaves. Yours too. Dropping down next to him, there's no care in the world as you both try to come back to your senses.

After a minute of harsh breathing fading, Jungkook comments. “Almost didn't make it.”

Looking at him, you both grin at each other. “I made it.”

He scoffs playfully, amused by your confidence. He's restrained, therefore it would be completely your fault if he came inside you.

“Gonna uncuff me now?”

“Oh shit.” you curse, sitting up as you grab the key off your nightstand, leaning forward to uncuff Jungkook's wrists.

As soon as you do, Jungkook's arms shoot down as the pair of pink fluffy handcuffs land on your floor. You watch him rub his wrists, frowning before looking at you as you shoot him a sheepish grin.

“You enjoyed that?”

“Probably more than I thought I would.” you giggle.

Jungkook's lips twitch. “At least one of us did.”

“You came, didn't you?” you raise your brow at him. “I'm receiving no complaints then.”

He laughs, sitting up as he cracks his neck. Looking down at his crotch and around the bed, he cringes a little. “Made a mess.”

“It's fine, I'm gonna clean that up. Go take a shower.” you point toward the door.

“You sure?” he asks, cocking his brow at his cum sticking to your skin.

“Yeah,” you laugh, reaching for the wipes that are beside your bed. You clean yourself, ushering Jungkook to use your bathroom while you take care of this mess.

Knowing there's no point in arguing, he still with an unsure look starts to get out of your bed. What he doesn't expect though is a slap delivered on his buttcheek. He turns around, shocked with mouth agape as he shoots you a look.

“What does it feel like?” you tease, biting onto your lower lip as he shakes his head, fighting back a grin. Too bad, you catch a good glimpse of it.

“You're lucky this is over.” he tells you, ruffling his raven hair.

You're not sure if lucky is the right word to describe it, though it works for what he has in mind. And god, you're so close to calling this break off. Desperate and foolish.

But since he talks about luck, it seems like it's on your side this time considering he turns around and leaves the room before you can make another rash decision.

You decide to finish the movie after you're both cleaned, and so is your bedroom with fresh sheets. Everything goes back to normal, both of you acting as if you haven't had sex a few minutes ago. Ignoring the way every inch your skin feels like it's been electrified.

Jungkook's body takes most of the space in your bed eventually, the entire bedroom swallowed in darkness as chilly air fans your thin curtains. No scent of sex anymore just like there is no trace of your previous doings. The only proof lives in both of you now.

“Back to best friends?” Jungkook asks behind you, his arm outstretched just above your head.

“Back to best friends.” you confirm, ignoring the sentiment behind your tone.

“Don't tell anyone that I–”

“That I had you handcuffed and you whined?”

“Yah!”

Cackling, you look across your shoulder as if you could see him. “Are you ashamed of it?” you tease.

“Taehyung wouldn't let me live if he knew.”

You both laugh quietly.

“Can you rub my back now?” you say after a while.

Jungkook snickers, sighing as he gets on his side facing your back. His hand is on your back, scratching and rubbing gently as you hum in pleasure.

“Shouldn't you be the one who's rubbing my back? Y'know because of what you've put me through tonight.” he grumbles, causing you to smile into your pillow.

“Didn't you enjoy it?”

“I couldn't touch you.” he says as if that answers everything.

You still keep smiling, not being able to fight it back. “But other than that?”

He doesn't respond for a moment, leaving you to look behind you again. He hears the sheets rustling. “I came, didn't I?”

Somehow, that answers your question and you hum, lullying yourself to sleep – with the help of Jungkook's hands and touch of course. However, with a serious realization of what the fuck are you going to do now.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #personasintro

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simplyholl · 4 months

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A Night With The Winter Soldier

Summary: You’re sent to be Hydra’s test subject for a new serum.

Pairing: F. Reader x Winter Soldier Bucky

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Dark Bucky. Non con. Oral. Unprotected sex.

See My Masterlist Here

A/N: I know I don’t usually write for Bucky, but this idea has been stuck in my head for a long time. I’m just tagging my regular tag list, if you’re not into dark fics, please skip! ❤️

Fucked. That’s what you were or at least what you were going to be. You shake your head as you cover your skimpy lingerie with the matching robe your mother gave to you.

Your father is the head scientist for Hydra. He had been working on this experiment for years. He had created a serum that would cause Super Soldiers to want to reproduce. The end result would be a perfect Super Soldier baby. He finally perfected it. Who could be a better test subject than his daughter?

You begged him. You pleaded and cried. It was unfair to expect this of you. But he didn’t care how you felt. He said it was your duty to do as you were told. You didn’t want to make Hydra upset with your family, did you? You knew the horrors that awaited you if you refused. Your best friend, Lilly and her whole family disappeared three years ago when her father refused a command from Hydra. They were brutal and cruel. Sadly, you were used to it.

Hydra came first. Before yourself, before your family, your loyalty had to be unwavering. You knew it wasn’t really your father who had suggested it be you. Your mother told you it was one of the higher ups. He had seen you in your new sundress a few weeks ago and thought you would be perfect to carry the first Super Soldier baby.

It made you sick. How could they do this? You didn’t want to know what would happen if you refused. “At least, he is the strongest Super Soldier. This baby’s genes will be impeccable with the both of you for parents.” Your mother reassured you, as if it would help you feel better.

You weren’t naive. You and the baby would be monitored from the moment you got pregnant. As soon as you gave birth, the child would be ripped from your arms and watched closely. It wouldn’t really be yours.

You take the elevator to the thirteenth floor, heart racing wildly. You were scared. You had seen the Super Soldiers behind glass doors where you were protected from them. Now, you were being offered on a silver platter to the biggest baddest one, like a worm on a hook waiting for a fish to jump after them.

Two guards stand outside the door to the windowless room. Their eyes roam over your barely covered body. They smirk at you as they type in the code to let you in. “Good luck, princess. You’re going to need it.” They evilly laugh as the door opens. Slowly, you walk in, your breath catching in your throat as you hear the steel door bang tightly shut behind you.

The room is dimly lit. A leather chair in one corner, a bed pressed against the wall, there’s a table with a half worked puzzle on it. It was so dreary, your heart aches for the poor guy that called this room home. You walk over to the table, running your hand over the puzzle. That’s when you feel it. Even though you couldn’t see him, you’re not alone. He’s in here with you, hid in the dark corners somewhere. You turn around to find him staring at you.

The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, you had demanded to know his name before you did this. His dark hair hung in waves by his cheeks, his cold blue eyes focused on your body. He was beautiful. You weren’t used to seeing him without the black mask he usually wore. He was shirtless, his silver, metal arm catching your attention. You studied it. The way it looks like it was forcefully put on, the red star on his shoulder. He was always silent, brooding in the shadows. You had never been this close to him.

You reach for his face, wanting to feel him before all this started. His metal arm stops you, cold hand wrapping around your wrist. You squeak when he twists your arm behind your back, walking you toward the table.

He presses you against it, you feel his erection threatening to burst out of his black pants. One swipe of his free hand knocks the puzzle to the floor. Colorful pieces scatter all around you. He lifts you on top of the table, the cold surface making you gasp when your bare legs land on it.

Bucky holds you with his metal arm, the other one makes quick work of your flimsy robe. He grabs your breast through the thin fabric of your lingerie. You squirm under his touch as he pinches your nipple through the lace.

“You don’t know how bad I need this. Been a long time since I’ve had a pretty girl like you in my bed.” You’re shocked when he speaks to you. You had been warned that he wouldn’t talk to you at all. He takes a step back to look at you, zeroing in on your panties.

He pushes your back to the wall, commanding you to stay there. You obey, you didn’t want to upset him and make this worse for yourself. He holds your top in one hand, jerking the material. The sound of it’s ripping, startling you. He was crazy strong. The thought of being manhandled by him sounded better by the second.

Next was your panties, he stripped you of them quickly, pulling you by your legs to the edge of the table. He got on his knees before you, shoving his face to your core. He licks one fat stripe up your center, moaning as he tastes you. He swirls his tongue across your clit, you buck your hips up to get closer.

Bucky pushes you down with his metal arm, ensuring that you wouldn’t be able to move. You accept your fate, laying back as he laps at you. He fucks you with his tongue, his nose rubbing expertly against your sensitive nub. The band tightly wound in your stomach snaps as he drags his wicked tongue across your clit, sucking you between his lips. He doesn’t hold back his moans as your arousal floods his face.

When he emerges, his face is glistening because of you. He wipes it off with the back of his flesh hand. Bucky jerks you off the table, pointing to the cold, cement ground. “On your knees.” You sink down in front of him as he sheds his pants. You’re surprised he hadn’t already taken them off.

You shift on your knees, trying to get comfortable. He could at least offer you a pillow to kneel on or something. You look around, and spot the only one on his bed. You’re about to ask for it, when he pulls your hair roughly, jerking your head toward his throbbing cock. It was huge. The kind of big that would hurt. You open your mouth, trying to take all of him inside.

You choke and gag, spit dribbling down your chin onto your breasts as you struggle. He looks down at you, hand still tangled in your hair. Your jaw aches already and he’s just getting started. He thrusts his hips forward, pushing your head down simultaneously. Tears fill your eyes as he hits the back of your throat. You can’t help the sob that escapes you as he pulls out, only to forcefully push his way back in.

His thumbs follow the tears on your cheeks, your mascara pooling under your eyes making you look like a raccoon. “You look so pretty when you cry.” He coos, while looking at you adoringly. He thrusts three more times, your nails dig into his thighs, a silent plea to stop. He finally pulls out, collecting you from the floor and gently placing you on his bed.

He places one leg over his shoulder, lining himself up at your entrance. He pushes inside and it’s too much. “It’s- you’re too big.” You explain. Bucky moves your other leg, spreading you wider. “You’re gonna take all of it.” He grunts, wedging himself inside you, bottoming out with one thrust. He ignores your pained scream, leaning down to lick your fresh tears.

“So tight. So perfect. Just for me.” He praises in your ear. Finally, the pain subsides. Bucky feels incredible, his thick cock dragging against the spot that makes your head swim. A gush of arousal soaks him as he swirls his metal thumb in circles on your clit.

“Look at you, such a good girl, dripping all over my cock.” You moan, clenching around him, your long nails clawing his back, drawing blood as your second orgasm rips through you. His thrusts grow sloppy as you feel him go still inside you. His hot cum, drips down your legs as he withdraws himself from you.

Bucky swipes it with his index finger, rubbing it with his thumb. He brings it to your lips, you swirl your tongue around his long digit, loving the way he tastes. You’re caught off guard when his icy, metal hand collects as much cum as he can, stuffing it back inside you.

You twitch, trying to pull away from the cold hand on your heat. “Ah ah ah.” He scolds. He presses his cool thumb to your clit, toying with the oversensitive pearl. “You have to take every drop.” When he’s satisfied with his work, he makes you lay on your back so it doesn’t drip back out.

You close your eyes, the sweet promise of sleep taking over you. You are almost in dream land when you feel the familiar nudge of Bucky’s cock at your sore center. “What are you doing?” You ask, too tired to fight him. “I’m not finished with you yet, doll.” He smiles wickedly, snapping his hips to fill you again.

Tags

@lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @wheredafandomat @freegardenbanananeck @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000 @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @litaloni @lulubelle814 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @avengersfan25 @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mybugabomlb @bunny24sstuff @luthien-elvenia-asher @gruftiela @asgards-princess-of-mischief @weirdothatwritess

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totheblood · 8 months

Text

cutty love.

pairing: ellie williams x reader

summary: ellie becomes your best friend and you stumble upon her journal

warnings: this is purely fluff, cursing, suggestive themes maybe once? idk very soft

a/n: this is because i want bff ellie and also domestic ellie and also wanted to put eleven labs to the test with their new features so please... enjoy! AI AUDIOS SPREAD THROUGHOUT THE FIC also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 2.2k

"all my dreams my dear they are of you."

spring came fast to jackson.

dew painted the grass on early mornings and little patches of snow began to melt into the soil. winter was finally over and you were finally back on farming duty. however, you weren’t as excited as you thought you would be.

patrol was something you would have dreaded a year ago, the idea of entering the outside world terrifying you completely. but as winter came around, and farming became obsolete, maria had warned you you needed to sign up for a new task. your dumbass, however, signed up too late and both stable and kitchen work were all filled up. patrol became your only option.

on your first day of patrol, you were assigned with dina. she basically held your hand through it: walking into buildings first, showing you how to aim and shoot your gun, and teaching you all the best places to hide. it was an easy day with one encounter with an infected (who dina shot on sight).

your second day you were paired with jesse, who was, to your surprise, gentler. he made jokes when he could tell you were getting scared, always walked with his hand outstretched in front of you when walking into new territory, and taught you how to make a molotov cocktail. you felt safe with them.

on your third day, you were paired with ellie who was less than kind at first. upon seeing you she rolled her eyes and scoffed, mumbling something like, “why do i always have to be paired with the newbies?”

to avoid confrontation you simply kept your mouth shut. you were supposed to be partners and you were going to do your best to keep yourself alive. like the others, ellie walked into spaces first and after clearing the area for any infected, started a small fire in the lookout to keep the two of you warm.

you stood at a distance from her where she was placing her palms just above the fire and then rubbing them together for warmth. you watched on with a shiver, shaking as you looked out the window.

“you’re not going to get warm from all the way over there,” ellie spoke up, causing you to snap your head in her direction.

“what?”

“the fire is over here. you have to stand close to get at least a little warm,” she commented, beckoning you over with the wave of her hand, “here, come get warm.”

“oh,” you stepped closer to the fire, sitting down across from her, bathing in the warmth the fire offered.

“you’re not really talkative, huh?” ellie chuckled, taking picking at her nails as she spoke.

“uh, no, i usually am,” you laughed nervously, looking to the raised skin around her nailbeds.

“oh, so you just don’t like me?” her tone was joking, but there seemed to be an ounce of vulnerability to it. her eyes looked up to yours, scanning your face for a reaction.

“no, i just,” you took a deep breath and shrugged, “earlier you said you didn’t want to be stuck with the newbie so i didn’t want to be a bother or anything.”

“shit,” she breathed, pinching the bridge of her nose. all of the skin around her nails were raw and red, “i’m such an asshole. i didn’t mean it like that. i’ve just had a shitty week.”

“no, it’s fine,” you forced a smile, “i understand. i’m just nervous and this is all new to me.”

she paused for a moment, looking you over and taking another deep sigh.

“i’m not usually an asshole.”

“sure.”

“no, seriously, i’m usually nice.”

“i believe you.”

“ok, i’m kind of nice, but i’m doing my best.”

“it’s fine, i’m also an asshole,” you spit out and she laughed. a full chested laugh that went on for what felt like a minute. it was the kind of laugh were all of her teeth showed and wrinkles formed by her eyes. it made your chest feel warm.

from that moment on you and ellie became close friends. if you knew you were patrolling with her you would bring her a corn muffin wrapped in fabric. she’d say something about how good of a cook you were or mumble a ‘fuck yeah’ before stuffing half the muffin in her mouth. if she killed any infected later she would say something like, “that was only for the muffin. you’re gonna need to bring me another before i do any more of your dirty work.”

occasionally, she would bring her guitar and show you some of the music she was writing in any downtime you had. she was always so excited too, saying something along the lines of: “let’s try to clear this area as fast as we can so i can show you my new stuff.”

when you sat in front of her, legs crossed in front of you, you watched as a bright blush spread across her face before she sang.

“this is new, so take it easy on me, okay?”

at some point towards the end of december she came to your house with something wrapped in fabric. her whole face was red, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the snow or her nervousness as she shoved the present into your hand.

“what’s this?” you asked, eyes wide ushering her in from the snow and shutting the door behind you.

“it’s a christmas gift,” she smiled, “i don’t know if you know what christmas is but people used to celebrate it back in the old days. joel told me about it and now we celebrate it every year. it’s basically just a holiday where you give your loved ones… or friends a present. they used to pretend this big fat guy with a beard came down people's chimneys and gave presents to kids who were good but i guess they gave up that idea. santa probably got infected or some shit. anyways, this is for you.”

when you peeled back the fabric, a picture of you sketched out on charcoal was on a piece of thick paper. you looked beautiful. it almost looked as if ellie had spent hours looking at your face and studying all the tiny details of it. not to your knowledge, but she had.

a gasp fell from your lips as tears welled up in your eyes. you didn’t even have time to thank ellie before you were squeezing her tightly in your arms, causing her to cough. you were literally hugging her so tight she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t mind it. she took a deep breath and hugged you back, smelling the pine on your hair and skin.

“i love it, ellie,” you whispered, “thank you.”

when january came around, ellie decided you didn’t know how to hold a gun. most of your shots were misses and the drawback made you stumble back. you were becoming a liability, but mostly ellie feared for your safety. all it took was one fall and you would never be the same again.

so here ellie stood giving verbal directions on how to hold a gun. you, however, were a mess who didn’t know your left from your right.

“your left foot! i said your left foot!”

“this is my left foot!”

“babe, that’s your right.”

“oh,” you switched legs but it wasn’t good enough. ellie came up behind you, placing her hands on your shoulder and fixing your posture. the heat from where her hands were on you radatied throughout your body and went straight down your legs. she stepped closer, placing a hand on your stomach and pressing it lightly. your breath hitched.

“okay, now move your hand like this,” her free hand moved from the base of your arm to your fingertips. she adjusted your stance slowly. slow enough for it to feel like foreplay, “just like that. yeah, good girl.”

you could feel her breath on your neck where your scarf didn’t cover. it was all too sensual and then SNAP. a sound in the distance made her jump back and step in front of you, her own gun drawn in a matter of seconds.

your gun stance was never revisited after that.

but now it was spring, and you would no longer be on patrol. as much as you liked spending time with ellie, it was still too much of a risk for you to take when you enjoyed farming so much. when you told ellie a big pout broke out on her face as she dramatically reached for you.

“what am i going to do without you on patrol?” she whined, squeezing you so hard it made you laugh.

“we can still hang out,” you reminded her, pushing her off you, “plus maybe i’ll be back on patrol next winter.”

“yeah, but i liked having 8 hours of us time. now we will get like 4 hours a day max,” ellie leaned her head back on her couch, the dramatic pout still there.

“how about we meet here every day after our shifts and have dinner together?” you offered, making her face light up, “i can cook and everything.”

“okay, but you have to sleep over at least once a week,” she demanded

“deal,” you smiled, teeth showing.

“if i’m not here though you can just let yourself in,” she casually commented, “i’ll give you a spare key.”

it went on like that for weeks, you coming over after your shift and making dinner and laughing with ellie about something joel or dina said until you eventually fell asleep on her couch. some nights you would watch a movie together, others you would bake something together (even though ellie usually tapped out when it came to cracking an egg). if ellie was running late or something you would make up time by cleaning up your mess from the kitchen or tidying up the living room, but by that time she would be stumbling through the door and apologizing for being late.

this night, however, ellie was running extremely late. you had already cleaned both the kitchen and living room and there was still no sight of her. to avoid anxiously pacing around the room and waiting for her, you decided to clean her room. you swept the floors, wiped down her bedside table, and began making her bed before you noticed a notebook tucked in between her bed and it’s frame.

you pulled it out of its place and examined it. it looked like it was frequently used, the edges of it torn and dirty. the yellow pages of the notebook were slightly hanging out and it looked like pages had been ripped out and stuffed back in. you shouldn’t read this, your mind rang clear. you wanted to respect ellie’s privacy, but curiosity got the best of you.

you flipped to a middle page, skimming over some entry about how much joel was being an asshole before stopping at your name. your name in her notebook with hearts drawn around it. your name written in pink over and over again. below the different variations of your name was a paragraph, presumably about you. you read it in ellie’s voice.

“another successful patrol. and by successful i mean i tricked her into holding my hand. i probably sound like such a creep but all i want is to be close to her. i want to hold her hand as we walk down the streets of jackson and kiss her in a booth at the diner. when she got scared she would squeeze my hand a little. it made me dizzy. this crush feels like it’s going to ruin me. i think she may ruin me but i don’t even care. all i want is her.”

you smiled, flipping a page, heat rushing to your cheeks as you read another passage about you:

“i sang a song for her today that i wrote about her. she told me my voice was beautiful and asked who it was about. i panicked and told her it was about cat. fucking cat!!! i haven’t thought about cat in fucking forever. i just want to tell her already because this is so fucking embarrassing. she probably thinks i don’t like her but i do. what if she never knows? i’ll tell her eventually… i will.”

you sit down on her still unmade bed, reading the next page.

“i wanted to kiss her so bad today. ugh. her lips were all red and pouty from the cranberry juice and when she smiled her teeth were all red. she asked why i was smiling at her and i told her that her teeth were all red. she looked so embarrassed and got up to clean them. i felt like an asshole but that’s better than being rejected by her right?”

another one.

“we watched curtis and viper today after patrol. she cooked us chicken and then cried because it was her favorite chicken. this girl has the biggest heart in the world. when the movie was done we just talked about what life would be like if the apocalypse didn’t happen. she said she would have been a teacher or some kind of helping profession. she’s fucking sweet. i told her i’d probably be a dentist or a lawyer. something fun. i left out the part where i’d want to come home to her every night. i’m such a loser. i think i love her.”

the last part made you gasp, except the gasp wasn’t coming from your mouth, it came from the person standing in front of you. ellie.

“what are you doing with that?”

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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hyewka · 10 months

Note

can i suggest a fic where beomgyu is helping take the reader’s mind off a bad breakup…. by fucking the living SHIT out of her NDJDNDJDJDJ

while i fuck you straight | c.bg

warnings; hard dom best friend!gyu, sub!reader, unprotected + pullout method, breeding kink, a spank or two, praise + degradation (mostly praise), slut shaming, rough marking, a tinge of possessiveness, friends w/ benefits, no romantic feelings involved (or are there?), ruined orgasm, princess pet name, beomgyus an insatiable manwhore lol, needy perv gyu with a lot of spit play, fingering, titty sucking hehe, literal messy filth and also barely proofread on my end

a/n; have to thank jazmine with all my heart for proof reading and giving suggestions, i love you so much 😭 @heart2beom this shouldn’t be a big deal as it is, but it is my first time writing full on dom beomgyu so it is this mini celebration for me and all the dom!gyu enthusiasts (i hope) 😇 reblogs are appreciated, keeps me going

You held your phone above your face, scrolling mindlessly through your socials, though subconsciously, you were really just awaiting a call from your boyfriend. Well, now ex-boyfriend. It's already been a week since you got dumped but no matter what went down that day, you couldn't get over him.

It was pitiful every time you jumped up from your bed at a notification just to find it was in fact not your ex asking to take you back and ...just a random spam email.

Beomgyu had his back against your bed, legs sprawled on the floor, also on his phone. You guys had run out of things to talk about when every conversation spun its way back to your ex- Seen that new avengers movie? You wanted to watch it with your boyfriend. That professor just got fired! You remember your boyfriend used to complain about that class. Gosh, you don’t think you’ll ever get over him.

"You're miserable." Beomgyu suddenly brings up.

You groan, as you repeatedly refresh your feed. "Gee, thanks Beomgyu. That definitely doesn't make me ten times more miserable."

He lets his head fall back on your bed, looking up at you through an upside down lens, abandoning his phone. “No, like truly miserable. I’ve never seen you so up and dry and…sober. Be young, live a little.”

You narrow your eyes at him, looking past your phone for the past time in a while. “…You talk like you’re 80 years old, about to retire and wallow in self pity, having experienced all there is to life. Thanks Gyu but no thanks.”

“I’m an old soul Y/N.” He says patting his chest, and you roll your eyes. Not necessarily refuting it, it’s his entire personality. “Where’s the chick I used to know anyway. The old Y/N would’ve been over this in a day with a quick hookup rebound.”

You finally put your phone down, staring up your ceiling. He was totally right. Who else would be right about you if not Beomgyu? But you don’t want to think about your old self, or you’d start sobbing again. Not like you were a totally great person, but that person wouldn’t be so stuck on someone. Anything but being the lovesick, doting person you would’ve made fun of just a year ago. God, he really changed you hadn’t he?

You kick your feet, whining, falling into the abyss of treasured memories. “You don’t understand, he was different, he—he was the one, you know?”

He ponders for a bit, room silent, staring at you through his soft lashes, and you think that maybe he’ll give it you; sympathize and understand that grieving was the entire process of a first love. The silence is suffocating when finally, he lets out a light scoff, cutting through it. “No, no I don’t know. Bet you just got soft.”

“God, fuck you Beomgyu.”

He grins his stupid grin that the situation definitely doesn’t call for, “You wish.”

You think if he wasn’t with you through thick and thin for the past four years, you would’ve definitely developed some sort of hatred.

You could visibly notice a lightbulb spark above his head with the way he immediately sits up straight. “Hey, hey wait.”

You tentatively watch as he turns his back away from you, laying both his arms on the soft cushion of your mattress. “I think I might’ve just had the best idea ever. Of the century. The idea of the century.”

“I highly doubt that.” You say, blindly feeling the surface for your phone already.

“Just hear me out,” he whines noticing your eagerness to dismiss him. “But also don’t freak out or anything. Promise me.”

You stare at him, hesitant before you give in to his doe eyes. Sighing, you say: “Okay. I promise I won’t ‘freak’ out. What’s your groundbreaking idea?”

“We should like… fuck.”

Your brows are slow to raise, the rapidness of your blinking at what you think you just heard—no, not think, know. Beomgyu’s voice, loud and clear with his diction, your eyes widen at the final click of it all. Before you know it, you’re reaching for the pillow behind you, flinging it at him with all strength.

It’s like he predicted it prior, dodging one… and then another as you throw all remaining pillows on your bed. Instead of missing with your last one, you decide to hold on to it, and attack him with it. His smug demeanor of successfully dodging everything just a second ago, dissipates as he takes cover for protection. “Are you fucking—are you crazy?!” you yell exapserated, more than awake with your wide eyes.

“Ya! You—you promised you wouldn’t freak out!” When that doesn’t stop your mania with the damn pillow, he decides to lay it all out with as much speed as he can’t seem to escape your wrath. “You want to forget him don’t you? I mean, you should! He dumped you, it’s over! Sulking over him is—Ow! So out of character for you—fuck—I promise a one time fuck would get your mind off him.”

Your pillow is mid air, and Beomgyu opens an eye to peek, hands still in protection mode—you sigh, landing a weak hit on his head before loosening your grip. You do want to forget. You’d do anything to get rid of what you’re feeling. But…

“It—it wouldn’t change anything for me. If that’s a worry. You know that no matter what, you’re my best friend.” He finds his footing, collecting himself, looking at you with intensity you could date back to just a few times over the course of your very long friendship. “Someone I care about. I can’t stand seeing you hurt and not being able to do anything. You know that.”

You bite down on your lip, staring at the familiar boy with his familiar brown bed of hair, and his familiar eyes, lips…How fast did he get you to actually give this a thought? Probably a minute or two. Beomgyu had a way with convincing you to do …anything. “I…know. But what if, what if I’m still head over heels in love with him? What if it doesn’t change anything for me?”

A grin gradually takes over his face, one that is once again, not fitting for the situation. “Why—why are you smiling like an idiot? This is—”

“It’ll change.”

You knit your brows together. “What?”

You don’t notice the way Beomgyu’s hand slowly inched to yours but suddenly, his palm was over your hand, squeezing it just a bit. “Having sex with me is a once in a life time opportunity. You’ll forget him. I promise.”

If you weren’t so lost in his eyes, as cliché as it sounds, you would’ve been completely taken out—probably a joke on his sheer confidence because who just says that? But he’s so …hypnotizing as you don’t even take notice of the ‘okay’ that leaves your lips.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” You exhale, “Okay. We’re adults. This won’t matter in a few weeks. Let’s do it.”

Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate for more than a few seconds before he was on your bed, crashing his lips on yours, a brief taste of strawberry lip balm, knocking a breath out of you until he slows down, testing the waters, then he stops, noses brushing against each other as he searches for something in your eyes, breathing already heavy, “Is this weird? Was that weird?”

You gulp looking down on his already glistening lips, and you nod. “The—the situation, not …the kiss. Fucking your best friend is an odd situation. The kiss…the kiss was good.” You ramble, your voice barely a whisper but he catches it anyway as you take notice of a small smile before he’s kissing you again, hands once cupping your cheeks already moving down to your tits, ministrating gently—every bit of his action seemed careful, too careful for what you know of the things your friends had told you in heated rants and swoons.

Half of the dictionary could be used to describe Beomgyu, and promiscuous was not an exclusion. You could probably say you already fucked him with the headache inducing details about what being with him in bed was like. Which is why you’re nervous as hell right now. From what you know, Beomgyu was… a lot. More than you could handle now, after an entire year of keeping yourself to one man.

“Jaehyun was worried about you. Was worried about what you’d do to me.” You blurt out randomly when Beomgyus’ moved to peppering feathery kisses along your jawline. He hums against your skin, then stops for a second to whisper, “He was?”

You could feel the smirk on his lips, opening his mouth a tiny amount to slightly suck on your neck at the process of your words—of course Beomgyu would get an ego boost from this. “Why?”

Beomgyu is practically suffocating with how little space he’s giving you, body flush against flush, your chest heaving the rougher he increasingly gets with his marking, his sly hand down to rub between your thighs, right at your core.

“Said you only wanted to get into my pants—h-ha shit, slow down, slow down Gyu.” You were getting teary eyed by his increased speed, friction against your sweats getting you wetter by the second whenever the pad of his finger teased your slit. “You know he—he asked me to stop hanging around you b-because—”

None of this was new to Beomgyu, your past boyfriends have always been worried about him for the exact reason—that he’d convince you to let him fuck you, because apparently women can’t have male best friends without it being more than platonic. But …you guess you aren’t really proving them any wrong now with the way you were letting him have his way, marking messy purple splotches all over, in hungry predatory manner, getting rougher and rougher by the second. You gasp when he abuses the same spot he just visited a few seconds ago, “Beomgyu!”

“Because?”

He presses on your aching core, pending you with the question. He didn’t seem as happy as he was with his smugness prior. “Because he thinks you’re a sleaze.”

An incredulous— mean chuckle from the back of his throat and suddenly his hand was down your panties, abandoning the long game of teasing in matter of seconds. He doesn’t touch you though, which only proves to make you more insane. “That’s dumb. Do you think I’m a sleaze?” You shiver, his deep voice so close to your ears, breath fanning against your cool skin—your eyes could go sore from how hard you’re shutting them closed.

You refuse to give it all to him, it makes you feel embarrassed and small. A new, foreign feeling you never thought you’d experience with Beomgyu of all people. “I-in some ways, yes.”

Not a satisfying response from you, he clicks his tongue like you were a misbehaving child, “You’re really annoying, you know that?”

You don’t get a chance to retort before you feel the pad of his finger prodding your pussy, then moving to gather your wetness.

Suddenly, he freezes his movement, pulling back from your neck, looking at you with an amused glint to his dark eyes. “Shit, you’re fucking drenched. And I barely did anything—”

You think he’s making fun of you so your cheeks quickly flush red, already putting up walls of defence but then he kisses you in the heat of the moment, wiping your frown away and you’re finding yourself reciprocating without a second thought—the kiss so sloppy and messy, string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away out of breath. “Fuck, that’s so hot princess. You’re so hot.” He breathes in awe of the spit—he truly is the biggest perv.

“Spread your legs for me.” he groans, trying to get better access to your pussy. You obey, admittedly a little slow, but who can blame you? It feels embarrassing regardless of who, but it’s ten folds with your best friend. “Moreee.” he whines, and god you wish you could slap him—can he not see that you’re trying?

“Beomgyu—“

Your voice gets cut off, gasping when he takes it upon himself to pull down your sweatpants with a quick swift motion, taking it off completely, revealing your patterned underwear—and god, now you’re hiding your face…everything was so embarrassing. He takes a second to examine the wet dark spot right in the middle, proof to what he felt earlier, but then you kick your feet. “Stop staring freak!” you shriek.

You can see through the cracks of your fingers the smirk he has on, looking at you with so much intensity you think you’d melt. He reaches out to grab your hand and put it down, even through your resistance, you couldn’t match his strength to your dismay. “I wanna see your face. Have to let me see you fall apart on my fingers like a little slut.”

You’re scandalized at his wording, your cheeks once again quickly heating up. But you let him part your timid legs anyway, big hands gripping the softness of your thighs, spreading your legs as much as he possibly could, to the point you felt yourself cramp up. But even with whines of protest he doesn’t ease up—bunching your panties to the side, impatient when finally he inserts a digit—experimental with his movement before you hear him groan out a curse. “You’re so tight holy shit, did he even fuck you?”

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know.”

Your senses are already overflowing, you could feel his hard on, his erection pressed on your bare skin, you’re hyper aware of the finger inside you—slender and slow with expertise as he pushes in and out, talking to you as if you could respond with anything more than restrained mewls. “Maybe dating him was good, then you had to be monogamous and not whore around with every guy you laid eyes on like you used to.”

“I-I never whored around—shit.” He suddenly speeds up, a merciless grin spread on his face—did he find messing with you funny?

“Yes you did. It was a new guy every…it was weekly, wasn’t it?”

You shake your head at his accusations, tears brimming when his mouth finds it use, suckling harshly on your nipples through your flimsy top—your body extra sensitive with the way you spasm on a singular finger. He pumps in two without warning and you yelp, hand reaching out to grab at his hair. You swear you could cum just from the stretch. “Stop denying it, you’d do anything for dick. I’m surprised you stayed so long with that bitch. Was he any good?”

One thing you won’t do is tell Beomgyu details of your sex life with your ex. You refuse. But Beomgyu is stubborn, and he isn’t one to give up so easily. Especially if he feels like you’re withholding information from him. “Tell me.”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

He raises his eyebrows in mocking shock, “No way. He never made you cum?”

Your nostrils flair from pure embarrassment and shock. How’d he know? You quickly try to control your expressions, masking it to not give him a hint that his guess was right, but he knew you too well. You hate that. Especially now.

“Can’t believe you’re hung up on a man—fuck, baby are you close? Hung up on a man that never made you orgasm—shit,” He breathes, rubbing his clothed dick on your thigh, getting off at the sight of your face. You really are falling apart. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll take care of you.”

You tighten your hold on his hair, feeling yourself get close as you grind down on his fingers, chasing your high, choosing for your sanity to ignore all his sweet talkings.

“Gyu, gyu I-I’m gonna—No—no-why? God, fuck you, you’re such a—such a dickhead!”

Beomgyu just ruined your orgasm by completely taking out his fingers, you could practically cry out of frustration and yet he didn’t seem the least bit sorry. Instead, he makes a show of licking his fingers, the ones he just had in you, swirling his tongue and sucking them clean while making direct eye contact. You cower a little but still keep your eyes on him. Now you aren’t sure if you could stay as bitter.

You blink rapidly to collect yourself, because holy shit, you’re getting weak for…Beomgyu. “Why’d you do that? I was close Gyu.” you say exasperated.

He unbuckles his jeans, “I said I’d take care of you, just trust me.” Zipping down his pants, he’s quick to drop it down to his knees before completely abandoning them on the floor.

He flings his cock out of the restrictions of his boxers and you’re practically drooling at the pretty sight. He isn’t the biggest you’ve seen but he definitely has the girth—his tip leaking pre cum down his length, hands trying to lube it with his spit. “Beomgyu, condom.”

“I don’t have one.” He breathes, already on you as he lays wet kisses down your collarbones before he gets irritated with your shirt and takes it off, revealing your bare tits. “God, you’re so sexy.” He drawls, sucking hickeys all over your chest in hunger.

You wish you didn’t have to, but you resist his touch and in turn he lets out an annoyed whine, his voice vibrating against your exposed skin. “Beomgyu, we can’t—we need a condom.”

He sticks out his bottom lip in a pout, the cutest you’ve seen him this entire day. “I’ll pull out, I promise. Please, I need you right now.”

In that moment of weakness, his tone so needy, as if he really did need you made you feel some sort of power—like you were the hottest, sexiest woman in the world. And so you bite your tongue, and trust Beomgyu to not ruin your life. You’ve done that quite a few times.

“Swear you’ll pull out.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I do.” You say with conviction. “I do, obviously. It’s just-”

“I know. Take a breather for me. Said I’ll take care of you, didn’t I?”

You could feel him lining up to your entrance, his tip prodding your hole, and you’re already getting desperate. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes.” you breathe.

“Stick your tongue out.”

You do, not sure what to expect until Beomgyu spits, letting his saliva slowly fall down in your mouth. “Swallow.” he demands, his low voice making you shiver—dark eyes watching every twitch of your face intensely.

You gulp his saliva down your throat, obeying and suddenly his expression morphs into lust you’ve never been met with before. You don’t even get to process it for longer, bask in the attention you’re getting before he’s pressing your thighs to your body, pushing into you with a deep groan—filling you up to the brim, your cunt not prepared for the aching stretch. You can feel each vein against your walls, you can feel his slight twitching, you can feel everything. “Fuck, fuck you’re made for me. You’re perfect—shit, you’re perfect princess.”

“Gyu—” you cry out, gripping the sheets under you. It was too much, too much for him to already start slamming his hips. “Gyu what—” you’re cut off by your own moan the moment he hits your g-spot, your face scrunched up, hot as you let out lewd sounds with no control of your own, throat strained already. It's not a surprise he manages to find it on his first try, despite it catching you off guard with the sudden wave of pleasure.

“Should’ve fucked you sooner. Get your little pussy molded just for my dick. You would’ve liked that, right princess?” He breathes out in a long winded babble, his hips unrelenting with each thrust, already quickly building up to be in erratic speed. Through your blurry vision you could see his eyes focusing down on the jiggle of your breasts lewdly, drool trickling down the edge of his lips, the brutal slapping sounds of them from his roughness getting his head light with ecstasy. You’re more than aware of what he wanted to do when he lets your legs rest from the ache of angling them so high. Dirty pervert.

You can’t handle him playing with your tits again, you were too sensitive for anything more than you’re getting but you can’t find it in your throat to say anything before Beomgyu gives in to his lust, leaning down to attach his mouth to your sore nipple. Abusing it as he suckles harshly, muffled moans against your breasts.

His pace getting quicker, clearly getting off from sucking your nipples like a dumb baby. It was getting you embarrassingly close, your pussy clenching around his dick. “Princess. My princess is so—mmf—so perfect.”

“Stop calling me that.” You manage to squeak out. Hes been using that nickname the entire time, and though it was easy to ignore everything else, the nickname was affecting you more than you’d like to admit.

He detaches from your tits, slowing his movement, looking up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Huh? Princess? Why?”

“He—he used to.”

He blinks a few times before his lips draw into a sneer, clearly irritated and you’re about to backtrack, but it’s too late. Your eyes fly wide open, breath stricken when he, with no mercy, picks up his speed again, drilling his dick so far into you, you think there’s probably a bulge showing through your stomach—its when you let the tears stream down, let yourself go as he fucks you dumb with each sharp thrust serving as a punishment. But for what exactly? For mentioning your ex? Did he hate him that much?

“You can replace your memories of him with me princess. I know you can do that, I’ll make sure you do. You’re my princess, and I’m the only one who can call you that. Remember that, yea?”

You nod up and down, and he leans down to give your lips a peck, one then two then three until he loses it and it starts getting heated, tongue messily intertwining, spit exchanged in desperate action. Drilling his dick in and out your sopping pussy, squelching pornographic like sounds filling the room—you think you’re screaming at this point, mind too clouded to be fully present. You’ll definitely hear a word or two from your neighbors.

“Fuck princess, are you close?” he hisses, “I’m close too, so close. Tell me when you get there baby, okay?”

You manage to nod, pressure quickly building up

Suddenly you feel him force in a finger in your pussy, stretching you out to unimaginable degrees. “B-beomgyu—I’m cumming, I’m—” your panicked hands at the intense feeling reach out to grab at his chest, crumbling his shirt’s fabric, using the last bit of your strained voice to moan his name, your orgasm so overwhelming you genuinely start seeing white, body shaking as you try to calm yourself down. “F-fuck.” you breathe out.

The way you still clutch onto his arms pushes Beomgyu to his high too, quick to pull out of your gushing pussy before a mistake happened. It takes only two strokes before he’s spurting his seed all over your tummy, biting down a groan, obsessively taking in each inch of your body’s ruined state.

He did this. He ruined you.

The only thing filling the room being the heavy breaths of you both, Beomgyu’s hair plastered onto his forehead from sweat, yours disheveled, a complete mess. Suddenly, a notification ding goes off, and your attention’s snapped to your side. “It’s my phone.” You awkwardly point out, noticing the light before reaching your arm to get it to you.

He doesn’t move from his position, still practically hovering over you. But you try not to focus too much on it, instead taking a quick look at your notification.

Your brows twitch in surprise at seeing the message on your lock screen. Fuck, it’s your ex! Did he want you back? So miraculously? After fucking your best friend?

Without any thought, you unlock your phone, trying to skim where the ellipses left off. It was a long message and—

“We just fucked. Can’t you wait a few minutes before going on your phone— Are you texting Jaehyun?” His warm smile turning to utter rage gets you stuttering.

“No I—well—yes, but—” you fumble on your words, not knowing how to explain—not knowing why you feel like you should explain, but Beomgyu isn’t one to play around clearly, as he snatches your phone from your hand and throws it to god knows where before your body’s turned around like it was nothing to Beomgyu, like you were some ragdoll. Pushing your hips up to have your ass up in the air with your face pushed into the sheets. “B-beomgyu wha..—”

Slap. Your whole body jerks at the impact of his hand, feeling yourself get teary eyed again. “Beomgyu what the hell?” You shriek, trying to squirm from your position, your ass burning. Then you get another slap, and your legs start to shake, bottom lip wobbling at the painful feeling of his rings.

“I promised you I’d make you forget him. Clearly one fuck wasn’t enough to get your mind off that asshole.”

Your panic only lasts a millisecond at feeling his tip for a second time before you’re abusing your throat again at the oversensitivity of having Beomgyu’s dick slam into your pussy, fucking your juices back in. He’s rougher now, ten times rougher. Maybe this was what all your girlfriends were describing to you, the feeling of having Beomgyu’s dick rut into you like wild feverish dog, fucking you like all you are is a pair of limbs, just for him to hound.

You can’t think straight, not a single word coming out of your mouth is intelligible, all slurred together dumbly as he ruthlessly digs his fingers in your hips, helping you find rhythm, your body reacting on its own as it syncs with his thrusts, moving your hips enough for him to let a hand go to the back of your head, further pushing you into the mattress, drool messy staining your white sheets, loud muffled wails filling the room.

“Fuck, you like this don’t you? Getting fucked like a bitch?” your hear him growl. You don’t know what comes out of your mouth, you don’t know anything right now, because you are being fucked like a bitch while thinking like one too, your nose running with your tongue uselessly out like something out of a porno. “Should I breed you like a bitch too? Huh? Will that make your pretty little head forget?”

At that, you cum again, and he sneers, a mean laugh at noticing your orgasm, “You want me to breed you princess? Make you round with my seed?” he drawls each vowel mockingly like you were a dumb kitten and he had to explain a really simple concept—still ramming your cunt, not giving you a fair chance of responding.

That’s how it goes for you’re not sure how long, Beomgyu switching positions to have your leg draped over his shoulder as he fucks you to oblivion, making you orgasm over and over again, before you really feel like you had blacken out at some point only to find yourself waking up to him still going at it—your entire body sore, down to every inch, your nipples especially swollen from all his sucking. He never cums inside you, instead emptying his load all over your body, making you basically a show of his dried semen.

You trust him, even when his tendency to go far never died down no matter how much he got older. “You awake?”

You flutter your eyes open, a dark room, and Beomgyu. His face is abnormally close to yours. “What happened?” your voice comes out very strained, your throat hard to use. Great, you entirely lost your voice.

“Think I might’ve had my balls in…too deep.”

Even a chuckle hurts every bone in your body, holy shit, how were you going to go to work tomorrow?! “Hey, don’t move around too much, I already cleaned you up. Just try to go back to sleep.”

“I don’t feel sleepy. I can’t.”

Beomgyu suddenly giggles, you could make out the cute small thing he does with his lips when he does. “What?” you ask.

“Your voice sounds funny.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. Of course he’d find it funny. Maybe next time you should peg his ass and see how he’d like to not speak for an entire week.

You feel his all too familiar hand laying on your cheek, and you subtly gulp. You don’t know if he heard. He probably did with how close you guys are, noses practically brushing against each other, his breathing all your hearing can pick up. “You know I’m always here for you, right?”

You nod, until you realize he might not be able to see you properly. “Yes.”

“Good.”

He takes his hand off your cheek, then turns on his back, folding his arms over his chest, staring up the ceiling. So the room won’t fall into an awkward silence, you say: “I have a question.”

He shuffles a little on the bed, letting out a hum in acknowledgment. “What was the I’m perfect for you thing about? We’re definitely not like, compatible or anything.”

He laughs before he turns his head to you in disbelief. “Are you serious? Is that a serious question?”

You nod, “Do I not sound serious?”

“No, you sound like you just had the best fuck of your life.” You roll your eyes in good nature, though exasperated, you were exposed to too much of his ego in one day. If you had the strength and will to come up with something to level his ego down, you would. “It’s called dirty talk if you must know the term fair maiden.”

“God, you’re so silly, I’m going to sleep.” You withstand your pain to turn your back to him, groaning with each movement. But you can’t escape his wrath it seems, because he almost immediately snakes his arm around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder, his heartbeat all you can here against your back. “Can’t I find you perfect? You know, like…my dream girl. My princess.”

You rapidly blink a few times trying to process—past the deep rasp of his tired voice that you found yourself incredibly attracted to— his words and how it brewed big unfamiliar emotions, knowing now you won’t be able to get a blink of sleep after this.

“Can I keep calling you that by the way? It really sticks.”

Oh god, the last thing you’re going to do is self sabotage yourself even more and get yourself in a stickier situation than you already put yourself in. “No, that’s definitely staying in the bedroom.”

a/n: i have no idea how this reads, its basically bare of any editing so if the flow is a little choppy i sincerely apologize, i write at the golden time of 10pm-2am 😭

#txt smut #txt hard hours #beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu smut #dom!beomgyu #txt hard thoughts

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theromcommotel · 11 months

Text

HARRY POTTER HCS !!

FIRST “I LOVE YOU” !!

prompt: harry potter characters and their first “i love you”s in relationships

characters included: harry potter, ron weasley, hermione granger, draco malfoy, ginny weasley, seamus finnigan, fred weasley, george weasley

warnings: you and seamus smoking in seamus’ part, swearing, physical abuse in george’s part

harry j. potter…

who said it: harry

when: 5th year

“cmon… just a little bit more..” harry cooed patiently, hands placed on your hips. “forget it, harry. i don’t think i’ll ever get it right.” you sighed, wanting to throw your wand down on the ground.

dumbledore’s army had just begun merely a few sessions ago, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get your patronous just right.

maybe it was because you upset professor dolores umbridge today and pushed her far beyond her limits (not even on purpose, for that matter). or maybe it’s because colin creevey was stuck way too far up your arsehole whenever you would do something wrong when it came to today’s D.A session.

“well, maybe i can give you a happy memory to think about.” harry suggested. “how on earth do you plan to do that?” you questioned, wary of what he may do.

“maybe…like this.”

and with that, harry began to scan your lips with his, feeling for all the fine details that no one else would get to see but himself.

harry felt you smile against his own lips before pulling away, with a lopsided grin smearing his cheeks.

“i love you.” harry smiled, sounding as if he’s been waiting a century to say those words to you.

“i love you too.”

ron b. weasley…

who said it: him

when: 3rd year

“oh no!! oh no no no..!!” the ginger boy roared as he was being dragged by the foot by the black-furred dog (unbeknownst to him, which was sirius black), “i can’t die yet!! i haven’t told (y/n) how much i love her yet!!”

“you bloody moron, she’s right here!!” the shorter bushy haired girl replied, slightly jealous it was her best friends name and not her own.

“i love you, (y/n)! if i die, i promise my ghost will haunt you!!” ron shouted before being dragged away out of sight.

“i love you too!” you yelped, hoping he could still hear you.

hermione j. granger…

who said it: you

when: 7th year

“i know this isn’t much… but i wanted to be able to do something for you for our anniversary.” hermione said, rubbing her neck in pure embarrassment.

you, hermione, harry, and ron were on a hunt to look for all of voldemort’s horcurxes, and because of that, you all were staying in a rubbish tent in the woods.

the tent was empty for the most part, other than the small radio player that had muggle romance music on it.

“harry and ron are out of our hair…well for now anyway. i told them to go look for anything that could be useful, i just wanted to have a nice 3 months you.”

“you kicked them out for me?” you asked, disbelief leaving your throat.

“well yes — and i know it’s not much but-” the brunette would’ve continued if you didn’t interrupt her, and she gives a slight pout because of it.

“but it is much, it is something ‘mione! it is because i love you.”

“i- uhm. repeat yourself, please?”

“i love you, hermione.”

draco l. malfoy…

who said it: him

when: 6th year

“isn’t that right, ms. (y/n)?” the barely human wizard, voldemort, said, looking at you from the other side of table.

you gulped quietly, your shoulders stiffening. “yes, sir.” you murmured, glancing at the platinum blonde boy next to you before averting your gaze.

you and draco grew up together - as your mothers were very close in their teenage years, your fathers, not so much. but they got along okay.

when draco first became part of the death eaters, his mother decided it’d be easiest to have you there, to make it a little less hard on him.

“excuse me for a moment.” draco mumbled, somewhat abruptly, as lucius and the lord were in the middle of a conversation. draco stood up within the blink of an eye, and sped walked out of the room.

“would you be a dear and check on him for me, honey?” narcissa leaned over and whispered in your ear, as you were seated between draco and his mother.

you gave a small half-smile with a nod, as you politely excused yourself, afraid of what voldemort could do if you had done it in a way of which he didn’t like.

you went around the halls of malfoy manor, the walls of which most of your childhood memories took place, as sad as that is.

you saw a crack in the door of draco’s room, and you opened the door a tad more

draco said there, looking down at his folded hands, not saying anything.

“are you okay?” you asked, even though you already knew the answer.

“those meetings…get to me, sometimes.” the blonde mumbled, his voice cracking slightly.

“me too..” you answered, rubbing your hand up and down his back, as you sat next to him.

“thank you, for always being here. i’ve spent my whole life with you, i never want to let you go.” draco said, giving a small smile.

“i won’t ever leave you behind, okay?”

“this is exactly why i fell in love with you all those years ago.”

“wait…what?” you denied, your voice quiet.

“you heard me, i love you (y/n).”

ginevera m. weasley…

who said it: her

when: 5th year (well 4th year for her)

“hey (y/n)!” a familiar, high, squeaky voice called out to you, sounding a bit distant.

“oh, hi, ginny.” you half smiled, looking down at the younger girl.

“i need to talk to you, now.” ginny asked — well demanded, but she meant to ask.

you’ve known ginny long enough at this point to know sometimes, when she wants to ask a question, it can accidentally turn into a demand. especially, when she’s nervous.

“okay, no problem.” you reported, knowing exactly what she was going to say.

she grabs your wrist with a firm grip — but not firm enough for your to be hurt. and walks you down to a more empty side of the hogwarts express.

“i love you. and quite frankly, i hate it when you spend more time with my brothers and less time with me because it’s not fair, i fancy you!” the smaller ginger insisted, with a small stomp of her foot to show she meant what she said.

“i love you too, don’t worry, gin.” you spoke, as you tucked a string of hair behind her ear, that was before in the middle of her face.

she gave a lopsided grin before happily skipping off and giving a sing-songy goodbye.

seamus d. finnigan…

who said it: him

when: 4th year

the yule ball of the 1994 school year was slowly coming to a close, but you were unable to find where your date had ran off to, one moment he was with his best friend, dean thomas — and now you have no bloody clue where he is.

there was only one placed you hadn’t looked yet — the astronomy tower.

you begin your walk up the tower of many staircases and you hear some intense coughing the higher and higher you reach.

before your eyes, you see your boyfriend — or date, or technically boy friend, as the relationship between the two of you is a bit complicated, with a cigarette between his fingers.

“hey seamus.” you say, as you sit down next to him, leaning into his touch.

“hi doll.” he says, grinning as he puts an arm around your waist.

“can i smoke with you?”

“absolutely not, angel!” seamus gasps, shocked, putting a dramatized hand to his chest, his mouth open a gap.

“huh? why not?” you asked, now just confused.

“because! i love you! i’m not letting a gorgeous goddess inhale that shit!” seamus replied, now tossing his cigarette away into the distance.

“you love me?”

“with every inch my body stands.”

fred g. weasley…

who said it: him

when: 5th year (3rd book/movie)

“i don’t know how you could even do this, i don’t know what half of this is supposed to to mean..” your ginger boyfriend said, cuddled up into your side, as the two of you studied for the following potions exams.

“well, to make it’s quite simple, it’s just seeing it on paper is the hard part.” you said, nudging him slightly, to make sure he wouldn’t fall asleep again.

“oh, how so?” he asked.

“well actually you take the-”

and before you could get any further, your boyfriend pecked you on the lips.

“sorry, at first i was interested and then i just didn’t care anymore.” fred said with a chuckle.

“fred gideon weasley!!”

“i’m sorry, i love you, does that make it better?”

“i… yes.”

george g. weasley…

who said it: him

when: 7th year (5th book/movie)

i mustn’t make mistakes any longer.

the words on your arm continued to ring in your ear, like the tangy feeling on your tongue after eating spicy foods.

none of this would’ve happened if you didn’t snap at the new d.a.d.a teacher - dolores umbridge.

the torturous (literally), cruel woman put you through so much pain in one detention.

don’t get me wrong, you’ve gotten detention once in 2nd year, but this could never compare.

the words on your arm were the ones that made you cry terrifying sobs as you had to continue to write and write and write - thanks to your low physical pain tolerance and somewhat sensitive heart, you just couldn’t bare it.

sprinkles of raindrops began to form in your eyes, they ground onto the table you were sitting at, as you tried to rub your eyes before anyone happened to notice.

“hey, love, are you okay?” george weasley - your boyfriend asked, scurrying over to you.

your arm was angled in the correcting lighting and point of view to where the taller ginger could see your scars perfectly.

“blimey!” your boyfriend shouted, pointing, before madam prince gave him a stern shooshing.

“what happened?”

you clung onto him immediately, sobbing quietly,

“hey love — it’s okay, i love you, i’m here and i always will be.”

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danytar · 28 days

Text

“Just good friends” [Tom!Glynn-Carney X Actress! Reader]

Warnings: none

Summary: You have a very close relationship with your friend... But everyone thinks there's something more between you two.. something special behind the scenes.

It was clear for everyone how close Y/N were to Tom as he was to her. the two of them are literally were stuck together like puppies.

She didn't want to fall in love with her best friend Especially after she get out of a previous failed relationship before. Even if it was years ago. she felt like she didn't want to trust love again. After all the pain it caused to her.

Now she want to focus on her career and business.

They were just a good friends.. or at least this what they were saying about themselves. But deep down they both knew that they were something more. They always knew... but were afraid to admit it. The sexual tension between them was palpable, sometimes even uncomfortable, and the actors around them thought they were secretly hooking up.

It was almost like a scene from a romantic comedy, where everyone knew that two people liked each other, except those two people. The two of them were unaware of their own feelings, and unaware of the fact that everyone could see it... except them.

And so they were together in this comfortable silence for a moment, their relationship being an open secret to everyone in the set, yet unspoken between the two of them.

It was like the two of them were just waiting for the realization to set in, just waiting for the "a ha!" moment... when they'd realize that they obviously liked each other.

But they hadn't reached that moment yet.In the distance there were whispers, people and the fans around them were whispering, gossiping, joking about them.

The whole set knew, as was obvious. It was like that old cliche, everyone was waiting for them to just say it... except the two of them.

And so, in the background, the whispers continued. Gossiping and joking about the two of them, about their "closeness". The two of them sat there in the quiet of the dressing room, unaware, almost oblivious to it all. And so the moment of that realization, of that quiet realization that they'd both liked each other for so long, was still far off in the distance.

And so they sat there in the silence of the dressing room, just looking at each other...

The silence had been hanging there for a moment too long. Something had to be said. It was like the air was slowly growing heavy from the tense silence. And Tom was the one who spoke first.

"I... uh..."

Tom continued, his voice still quiet, his nerves evident despite their apparent "romance". He was not used to talking with Y/N about this, or anything like it.

And so he was a bit awkward, despite his usual smooth demeanor in most situations.

“You look nervous.. what's wrong? ” she replies.

"Do I?"

Tom smiled weakly at her.His usual easygoing attitude and charm seemed to have left him for the moment. Instead he was a clumsy, awkward, and almost nervous mess.

His eyes darted around, seemingly not knowing what to do as his nervous demeanor was clear to see. And so, in spite of all his attempts to hide it, he was evidently nervous.

“Maybe you are”. she smilies softly and looks at him.

He smiles back softly, trying to seem more confident than he actually was. He was always charming and confident in front of the camera, in the spotlight.

But in the dressing room with her he was an awkward, nervous, almost clumsy mess of a guy. He tried to play it cool, but his awkwardness was clear for her to see.

The silence between them remained awkward and quiet, with Tom continuing to shift around in his seat. He was obviously nervous and uncomfortable, despite trying to hide it.

The two of them just sat there quietly, as the pressure between them increased. The tension was obvious, and their attraction to each other was evident in that silence

“Do you want to hang out after filming?”she suggested.

"Yeah, I'd like that... yeah."

The tension was lifted slightly as he answered. Despite his nervousness, he was a bit relieved that she'd suggested hanging out together. He was always looking to be with Y/N.

He'd wanted to ask her to hang out himself, but he hadn't been able to find the right words. So when she suggested it, it made him so happy, and he excitedly responded.

After completing filming some scenes Y/N was sitting on Tom's lap, while he was smoking and talking with Ewan.He had his arm around her, and was chatting with Ewan, smoking and casually talking about nothing in particular.

It was like a casual afternoon after filming was all done, and the two of them were having a nice relaxed smoke.

They looked happy and comfortable, a clear contrast to the awkwardness that had been in the dressing room earlier.She looked very stoned, and Tom seemed to be enjoying hanging out with her.

They were almost like a cute couple together, just relaxed, casual, and having a chill moment together.

But the casualness between them masked something else, something deeper, the two of them unaware. They were close and comfortable, but there was something else behind that closeness.

It was almost like a relationship, but with neither saying anything.It was like an unspoken connection between the two of them, a quiet, subtle intimacy that was clear for everyone to see... with the exception of them.

They both thought they were just friends, even though the connection was deeper than that.

“The lovebirds are very comfortable it seems”. Ewan chuckles and teases them.

He did so, taking a quick glance toward the two of them with a playful smirk. He was aware of their close relationship, and he knew the rumors that were going around.

Tom and Y/N were seemingly unaware of the rumors, but in reality, the whispers around set were not so quiet. And so there had already been talk of romantic connections between Tom and Y/N, rumors that the two of them were more than just friends.

And so Ewan smirked at the two of them as he took in the scene.

"Right... right, definitely. Just good friends. Good very close friends."

Ewan's tone was slightly playful, with an obvious tone of mockery to his voice. He knew that they were more than just friends, and so he was poking a little fun at them.

Tom and Y/N looked at each other for a moment, and just quietly laughed. They were aware of the rumors circulating about them, and aware that they weren't just friends, yet they continued with their casual tone and demeanor.

They were just in denial..

Part 2

#tom glynn carney #tom glynn carney x reader #hotd #aegon fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon headcanons #fanfiction #imagine #aegon x you #hotd aegon #my writing

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gglitch1dd · 10 months

Text

The Contract Pt1

Context: When you broke up with Katsuki, you thought it was the end for you. No marriage. No family. No white picket fence. You had spent so much time on Katsuki and now it all just fell to the wind. But what if a certain green haired hero offered you a contract, offered you the dream life of security and happiness all for the small price of being his wife? Love wasn’t in the plan but maybe it was in the fine print.

Basically: Reader dumps Katsuki and goes for Izuku.

Main Pairing: Midoriya Izuku x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Cheating, brief MxM smut, burning buildings, Izuku being superman for like 5 seconds, tension, angst, comfort

If anyone would have asked you if you were ever insecure of your relationship with Bakugou Katsuki, you would have said no. You would have actually laughed in their face for ever suggesting such a thing. For ever suggesting for a second that your Bakugou, your Katsuki, would ever cheat on you. That he would ever have eyes for anyone other than you. That he would ever find solace in someone else’s touch that wasn’t you.

Because Bakugou Katsuki was not a cheater.

He was a loyal and faithful man.

Or... that’s what you would have told yourself five minutes ago.

Now you weren’t entirely sure what to expect.

You had come back a few hours early from your abroad trip. You worked with the Hero Commission in media, specifically as a non-hero face for the media. A spokesperson for heroes and a correspondent and representative for the Hero Commission. It was a very stable job, very good pay, access to the elite life. It was all you could have imagined.

It was actually how you met Bakugou. He was an upcoming sidekick that had just exited out of UA with the rest of his classmates with a bang, and you were tasked with getting acquainted with them and getting close to them. It wasn’t really that hard. Most of them were pretty extroverted individuals. All you really had to do was bump into a pink woman and a man with electric blond hair and suddenly you were all friends. What came with knowing the upcoming sidekicks at the time, closer than others, also come with the territory of defending them from the media and speaking on their behalf.

You made them look good. You sold everything for them. You yourself were a predominant face in the media for the commission so you did it more than just out of the job but having known how it felt under that spotlight.

But then you met Bakugou. Bakugou was someone you never thought you would get close to. He was brash. He was annoying. He was a stuck up, over confident swine. Yet he captured your heart with those crimson eyes of his and suddenly you couldn’t even feel the ground underneath your feet. He swepped you up in his upcoming world and you let him. He was the now rising hero. The Number Two ProHero of all of Japan. And you were the non-hero face of the hero commission, an agent that specialised in the UA alumni that had took Japan by storm.

The two of you made a fantastic couple, outdoors and indoors. You managed to gravitate around each other like no one else could.

You gave him close to over six years of your life. You supported him, watched him rise in the ranks and as a hero and as a man. You did everything for him that you could. You patched him up after fights. You defended him in front of the media, in front of the commission. You would have given him both your kidneys if it meant that he would be alive and he would stay by your side. If he would be the man you knew who cooked and cleaned for you. The man who would die for you. The man that would burn the world in a fury of explosions just to see you smile.

You couldn’t understand how after all that, you could find him fucking his best friend. Your best friend.

Actually, to be more accurate, best friend was fucking him.

And by the looks and sounds of it, he was doing a pretty damn good job.

You stood in the doorway frozen in place. You weren’t sure where to look or if you even wanted to look. Your current boyfriend of six years, the Number Two ProHero Dynamight, was being forced face first into your black silk covers on your bed as his bestfriend, your best friend, the Number Six ProHero Red Riot was pounding him from behind.

Now if you had any less self respect, you might have found this hot. Actually, it was hot. Hearing your boyfriend cry out, whimpering as he could barely breathe, his cheeks puffy... well it was something you had thought about late at night more than once. However, you do have enough self respect to notice the big elephant in the room.

Your boyfriend was cheating on you.

You dropped your bags instantly making sound, causing both ProHeroes to look up at you. You stood motionless as both sets of crimson eyes looked to you. You looked between both men. “What... the... fuck.” You let out quietly.

Bakugou was stiff in fear, his pupils shrinking as his crimson gaze was locked onto you. This was not supposed to happen. This was not supposed to be how it turned out. He was not supposed to be underneath Kirishima Eijiro with his monstrous cock stuffed inside of him as his gorgeous partner stood in the doorway in front of him. Or at least not in any of his sober thoughts, this was not supposed to happen.

“B-baby...” He started breathless as he pushed himself up with his hands. “I-I... I can explain... This isn’t what it looks like.”

You were still stuck in place. “Eijiro’s fucking you in the ass.” You stated clearly.

Bakugou paused. “Okay, it is. It is what it looks like but...” He elbowed Kirishima in the ribs shaking the now pale redhead out of his stoic dissociation of this whole moment. Quickly Kirishima got off of him and Bakugou slipped to the floor grabbing his boxers. He hopped around for a second shoving his briefs on as if he wasn’t just being stuffed with dick a few seconds before.

You looked up at Kirishima. He couldn’t meet your gaze. The huge prohero, the strongest man you knew, he couldn’t look at you. His shoulders were tense as he looked down away from you. As he tried to bite down all the guilt he was feeling. His red locks of hair fell down around his face, attempting to hide him. You frowned. He was one of the most honest men you knew. He was your confidant, a man you could talk to about anything. The man who could hold you up and support you even better than your boyfriend sometimes. Well Ex boyfriend. And you know what he was doing now? He was banging your boyfriend behind your back.

You sighed. You picked up your suitcases and bags. “Goodbye, Katsuki.” You stated simply.

“Y/N, baby! Wait!” Bakugou raced over to you, tugging on your wrist forcing you to turn and face him. He looked confused, almost erratic. “I... I can explain.” You didn’t say anything at that. You just looked up at him emotionlessly. “I...” He felt as though there was a golf ball at the back of his throat. With you staring up at him like that, he wasn’t sure whether he could speak after all. “I know this isn’t what you want to come back to, but... it’s Eijiro. Eijiro the man we both love. I just... He’s my best friend and we’d liked each other for so long. It sort of just happened and I was planning on telling you-”

“How long has this been happening?” You interrupted him with the simple question.

He hesitated to answer you. You just looked at him hard. “A... A year.” Your eyes widened at the time span. “B-but the first time it happened, we didn’t even touch each other for like four months and-”

“Why?” Your eyebrows knitted together. You tried to comprehend it in your head but it wasn’t making sense to you. Bakugou paused at the question. He looked down away from you as he didn’t know exactly what to say to that. The blond had frustrated tears in his eyes as he glared down at the ground. “You could have talked to me.” You told him. “You could have said something and yet you said nothing. Nothing at all. You made me look like a fucking fool!” Your voice was starting to increase in volume as you glared up at him. “What even is this? Are you gay? You could have just told me.”

Bakugou closed his eyes. “I’m not gay.” He tried to clarify, but the look on your face said otherwise. “… not entirely.”

You just groaned in frustration. It was all so messy. All too messy. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t understand why he would do this. “Then what was this all for?” You asked him throwing your hands up in the air. “You made me look like a fool for what? Dick? So that you could finally have a piece of your best friend? What was it? Could I not satisfy you the way he can cause I don’t have a penis, is that why?”

His eyes closed almost pained with the assumption. “No...”

“THEN WHAT?” You shouted at him. “And you!” You pointed over to Kirishima who was walking to stand behind Bakugou. He shrunk back at your voice as he realised that you had noticed him come over. You turned your head to the side as you looked at him. “How could you?” You said pained and much quieter than if you were talking to Bakugou. Kirishima held back the tears as he still could not look at you. You dropped your shoulder as more sadness than anger filled you at the look of Kirishima in front of you. “You were one of my closest friends, Eijiro.”

“Y/N... I’m sorry.” He whispered. You scoffed almost in disbelief, looking to the side as your face scrunched up to one of disgust. He motioned to the man beside him. “We never intended to hurt you. We wanted to tell you of my feelings for the both of you, we really did but then... We...” He didn’t know how to explain it, looking off to the side. “I... We just...”

You sighed as you shook your head. You sniffed as you wiped your tears. “It doesn’t matter.” You let a tear slip down your face. You picked up your bags again. “I don’t care what the intentions were nor what the reason was. Fact of the matter is, Katsuki cheated. You both lied to me. I have enough self-respect for myself to know that I should never tolerate that, even if it’s from the both of you.” You whispered, looking up at them with such a hollow heartbroken expression.

Before you left you pulled off the promise ring that Bakugou gave you on your second year anniversary. The red diamond ring was one of your favourite gifts that he had given you. You slipped off the ring painfully. You took his hand and you placed it onto the palm of his hand. Bakugou froze at the gesture. The weight of the ring so heavy in his hand it felt like the weight of the world.

Bakugou expected to see you to at least look disappointed, sad, angry or some emotion that you were feeling when you had first arrived, but you showed nothing. Absolutely nothing. Your face just empty. “We’re done, Katsuki. I’ll send people to collect my things for me.” You turned around, dropping his hand and taking your bags. “Goodbye Katsuki. See you and Eijiro around. You’ll make a fantastic couple by the way.” You left out the door and you didn’t turn back.

That night you booked a hotel room, not wanting to bother any of your friends, mostly because they were also their friends too. You didn’t want to villainise them. You didn’t even think you wanted to think about them right now. You booked a room, went inside and allowed yourself to break down. The tears all came back flooding. As much as you loved Kirishima and Bakugou, you loved them so much in your heart, what they did wasn’t respectful to you. They could have told you. They could have been honest with you, but they snuck around. They lied to you.

You bawled your eyes until no more tears could flow, you cried so hard that your body forced to you to black out into an empty sleep and damn were you grateful for it. Nothing had felt better like nothingness. Like floating empty not having to see them together in your head.

When you had woken up, you weren’t sure what to do. You and Bakugou had been living together in his apartment for the past five years but now you were homeless. It wasn’t particularly hard for you to find a new apartment for the time being, you did work with the commission and that did have its perks. However, you weren’t even sure if you could do it right now. So you did the most spontaneous random thing you could do.

You left the country for the next two years.

“Dynamight!” One of his sidekicks called as they were escorting another civilian out of the burning apartment building that was in front of them. No one knows how it had gotten this bad. Why weren’t the heroes or the fire department notified earlier. It is what everyone wanted to know but no one got an answer to it.

Prohero Dynamight turned around to look to his sidekick. He was directing the chaos that was happening around the building. It wasn’t exactly how he wanted to spend his Friday night but when hero work calls, it calls. The fire was a blazing hot mess of heat. One could feel it from just standing outside. Bakugou himself was shocked that there could still be anyone else still left inside. Alive that is.

“The building is coming down sir!” The sidekick shouted pointing back to the apartment building.

Bakugou scowled as he heard the loud creaking of steel enforcements. It was so loud he could feel it in his chest, underneath his boots. “Clear the area!” He shouted. “I want no one near this thing if it comes down.” He turned to look at the sidekicks under him that all nodded and stuck to his orders. He put a finger to his earpiece. “How’s it looking Red?” He asked.

“There are still a few people missing.” Prohero Red Riot spoke over the comms. He was with some civilians in a safety zone, making sure the right people went to medical and others were kept warm for the night and received some assistance whether it be calling loved ones or finding their loved ones. “I’ve received some information that there’s someone missing who didn’t get out. I don’t know who it is.”

Bakugou’s scowl only deepened. Of course there was someone that was unaccounted for. He tried to think fast. He could fly in and check the higher levels with less fire but that in itself was dangerous. The fire department had already agreed with him and either putting out the fire or waiting for the building to come down. It wasn’t safe to send in their fighters anymore. Water was already being sprayed into the building from all sides and yet it only seemed to stay the same. He let out a sigh. He put a finger to his comms.

“Dynamight!” He turned his head to the chief of police. They had a finger pointed up to a higher level of the apartment.

Standing by a windows ledge was a civilian. They were coughing up a storm but they were holding something in thick towels. They tried waving down the people below but it was clear that they were heavily disorientated from the smoke and fire.

“Landing mat now!” Dynamight yelled, evoking more action.

He took one step, and everything was shaking underneath him. The ground was shaking and something was awfully wrong. Everyone quickly held something stable and secure. Bakugou looked up and then he saw them falling. For a split second it was almost as if time stopped itself. The civilian was out of the window and in the air. He took stand, his hands sparking.

Then like a jet something flew in the sky with a spark of light and fire exploded out of the building forcing everyone back. Bakugou raised an arm over his eyes as he forced himself to look up.

Floating down in front of the burning building that immitted light was the silhouette of a man with a cape on. Prohero Deku floated down from the sky like a gift from the heavens, a saviour sent by God himself, his cape blowing behind him as he held the remaining civilian in his arms. He landed on the ground with a thud before turning his head up to look at everyone else. He quickly moved with the civilian in his arms towards an ambulance.

“I have a civilian here! Severe smoke inhalation from the looks of it, dehydrated and unconscious!” He shouted as he placed them down on a stretcher for the paramedics. The paramedics took the towelled bundled out of the civilian's arms. It was only then that Midoriya froze at the face of the civilian. Bakugou stormed over to Midoriya, questions on how the hell Midoriya got here, but then the green haired hero whispered a name Bakugou wasn’t expecting. “Y/N.”

Bakugou looked down in the light of the ambulance to see you with an oxygen mask on your face, barely breathing. Sweat lined your forehead and body, your clothes having areas soaked with it or with burnt marks. Midoriya held the bundle in his arms and then he felt something move in it. He took a step back, unfurling the bundle of towels. It was then that he froze. In the bundle of towels was a baby. A little baby boy who was on the brink of crying. Midoriya quickly dropped all the towels that weren’t necessary for keeping the little boy away from the fire and kept him in his blanket.

He shushed him quietly holding the baby to his chest tighter. “Hey there little guy.” He whispered with a smile on his face. “Sh... it’s okay. It’s okay.” He said softly. The baby started to calm down, moving his hands up towards Midoriya’s face. Midoriya’s smile broadened as he laughed lightly. He looked up at the paramedics, moving to pass the child to them. “Keep him with her. We don’t want to separate them.” He told them seriously. “Check him too, but she kept him wrapped in towels and he doesn't seem to have any burns or trouble breathing.” He reported as the little baby boy was handed over.

“Thank you, Deku, sir.” They nodded their head. They closed the ambulance with a loud bang and the ambulance roared to life. It’s siren going off as it drove away to the closest hospital.

Both proheroes stood in silence at everything going on around them for a moment. Midoriya sighed before turning to Bakugou. He folded his arms over his chest and looked to the blond explosion hero. “What’s the report, Dynamight?” He asked, skipping pleasantries to focus on the task at hand that was putting out the fire.

Bakugou was still looking off in the direction of where the ambulance had gone. He hadn’t seen you in years and here you were, back in Japan without a word or trace. It was shocked him to his core more than anything else. However, Bakugou didn’t have time to be shocked. Not when Deku was standing right next to him. His crimson gaze flicked to Midoriya. He scowled. “How did you get here, Deku?”

“I flew.”

“I thought you couldn’t fly.”

“I was floating in a constant direction,” Midoriya put a hand out flat to show Bakugou what he meant. “at a constant speed, uniform velocity by the way,” He clarified for Bakugou which only made the blond scowl. “Of 400 km per-”

Bakugou tsked. “I know what you mean, you damn nerd! I don’t need you reciting fucking physics to me. Why the hell are you here?” He asked motioning around them.

Midoriya’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Oh...” He dropped his shoulders. He motioned forward in front of him. “I was actually on my way heading home.” He informed the blond. “I had clocked out, but I saw Y/N and I thought, why not.” He shrugged honestly not thinking much about it.

Bakugou glared up at Midoriya with a scowl on his face. Anger bubbled inside him that Midoriya just so happened to be passing by and did his job for him. He wasn’t even on the clock and still doing hero work. It was something Bakugou hated about him. How effortless it was for him to be a hero, almost as if he wasn’t born with a handicap preventing him from being one in the first place. “You thought I couldn’t handle it.”

The green haired hero sighed as he brought a hand to his temple. Somehow, Midoriya was no where near surprised about that assumption. He was talking to Bakugou, and knowing him, he was always assuming something. He closed his eyes. He didn’t have the patience to deal with Bakugou Katsuki’s assumptions right now. Not when it was just after midnight and he had just had a 24 hour shift. “No, Dynamight. I knew you could handle it.” He clarified for the blond. “I just wanted to help.”

“Well-”

“Dynamight! I heard what happened, did you get the remaining civilian?” Red Riot spoke over the comms.

Bakugou paused. He put a finger to his ear and hummed. “Yah we did.” He looked away from one moment and suddenly with another big bang of air breaking around him and in another spark of light, Midoriya was gone. He had taken the opportunity to gratefully leave the angry explosive hero before the two of them would be stuck at each other all night. Bakugou rolled his eyes, annoyed at Midoriya. “She’s at a hospital.”

He heard Red Riot sigh in relief. “That’s good to hear.”

“Hey Red...” Bakugou looked back up at the building that was slowly loosing its flames. “It was Y/N... She was the civilian and… she had a baby with her...”

You were walking to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. It was late in the night and you had barely gotten any sleep. Nightmares had been plaguing you on the fire that had happened. It came to you in the dead of night, waking up to images of the fire still blazing in your head. You groaned as you took a bottle from the fridge, a hand to your temple as you did so. You moved to lean against the counter for a moment, trying to think.

A knock sounded.

You perked up at the sound. It was the dead of night, just to three a.m and there was a knock at your door. “Well this is one way to die.” You grumbled as you pushed off the counter and walked out of your kitchen. Before you could even get to the front door, you saw someone standing on your balcony. Eyebrows furrowing, you went over to the door of your balcony and upon closer inspection saw someone. Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Midoriya?” You opened the door, allowing fresh cool air in.

“Good evening.” Midoriya spoke with a small smile as he stood in your doorway, his hero uniform still on him.

You looked at him blankly for a moment. “It’s two a.m.”

“Uh... Good morning?” He said with a more embarrassed smile now.

You tried to bite back a chuckle. You shook your head. “Morning Midoriya, what are you doing here?” You asked him, leaning against the glass door of your balcony entrance way.

“I wanted to check in on you.” He spoke honestly. “The hospital had said they discharged you but I was worried. I wanted to check in on you the day after but then I got busy, and it slipped my mind. I’m sorry if I woke you up, it wasn’t very considerate of me to come knocking on your balcony door in the middle of the night.” He motioned to the night sky above.

You chuckled and shook your head. “No it’s alright. It’s... its sweet of you. Thank you.” You motioned for him to come in. “Uh... please.” He stepped inside, stepping past you. It was then you remembered just how large Midoriya was now. His size was something he had gained much of after U.A. He was packed with thick muscle now and tall. However, he still had that layer of cute baby fat to his face (primarily his cheeks). He stepped in looking around your dark apartment. You kept it styled to your liking but still had that space that told him that it was on the higher end of accommodation. “Sorry, I didn’t know I would be expecting such esteemed company...” You chuckled as you tried not to die in embarrassment at the coffee mugs on the table.

Midoriya chuckled shaking his head. “No please. It’s fine. I came in unannounced.” He reminded you. He looked around in interest at your space. “I didn’t know you were back in the country.”

You nodded your head. “Yah... I’ve actually been here for the past half a year. I’ve just been on the lowkey, doing work from home and things like that.” You informed him as you grabbed your cup of water and leaned against your couch.

“Ah, I see. Well...” He turned to look back at you. “I’m glad that you’re back.” He told you with a smile to his face, genuine. “It’s been...” He tried to think of a word. “Interesting without you here.”

You hummed. A sort of silence settled between the two of you, both of you thinking for just a moment. You cleared your throat. “I see work still treating you well. You’re still number one.” You pointed out.

Midoriya chuckled nodding his head. “Yah...” He scratched the back of his head. “It’s the workaholic in me.” He motioned to your couch, asking for permission to sit down. You nodded your head, letting him do as he pleased. He sighed at finally being able to relax for a moment. You watched his thick body of hard earned muscle relax on your couch as he threw his head back for a second, a thick neck and sharp jaw on display. “Just constant work and responsibilities. Meetings here, patrol there, galas and dinners on the side. It gets...” He let out a small yawn, covering his mouth with one hand. “It’s tiring.” He sighed. He turned his head to look back up to you. “So how’s your son?”

Now that caught you off guard. You raised an eyebrow. “My son?” You asked him with a raised eyebrow. You weren’t sure what he was referring to.

“Oh I’m sorry, are they a girl?” He asked raising his head off the back of your couch. “I couldn’t really tell when I held them, I was just assuming.” He apologised.

You just blinked at him confused. You tilted your head to the side. “I don’t have any children.” You told him slowly. Midoriya looked back at you confused. He sat up, and put a hand to his chin. He wondered if the baby was all a figment of his imagination. Maybe he really did need sleep. You looked to the coffee table when something caught your eye. That’s when you understood what the misunderstanding was. You let out a chuckle in amusement that took Midoriya’s attention. You walked over to stand in front of the coffee table. You picked up the newspaper and faced him. An image of him on that night of the fire carrying you and the baby you were holding in his arms as he flew down from the burning apartment building. “This baby?” You asked pointing to the image.

“Yah...” He said confused. His eyebrows furrowed. “Isn’t that yours and K-kacchan's? Isn’t that the reason you left?” He asked carefully and slowly. He didn’t want to seem too intrusive and pry too much.

At the mention of your ex, your face scrunched up and you shook your head quickly denying it. “Oh God no.” You chuckled. “No, the baby isn’t Katsuki’s. The boy isn’t even mine.” You revealed to Midoriya making his eyebrows raise up in surprise. “Although...” You put down the newspaper. “I wish he was. It would make things much less lonely.” You let out a small piece of how you were feeling before quickly pushing it to the side. “No, I was baby and house sitting for a friend. She had gone on a business trip and entrusted me with her son.”

“Oh... oh...” Midoriya put his hands to his face as his cheeks went pink in embarrassment. Even as an adult he never really shook off how easily he could turn pink in the face. He groaned as he bent forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to assume.” He apologised to you quickly only making you giggle. He dropped his hands from his face and sat up. “It’s just that, no one really knew why you and Kacchan broke up and after the whole finding you in a burning apartment with baby thing, I wasn’t the only one to assume that it was the case. Shoto is actually about to lose a whole lot of money come to think of it. I told him not to make those bets on that theory-”

“Excuse me?”

“Hm?” Midoriya looked up at you with bright green sparkling eyes almost as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

You glared down at him, knowing he was silently gaslighting you into believing so. You huffed. You looked away from him to look down at the newspaper for a second. Midoriya’s façade broke for just a moment, an amused smirk on his face before your eyes flicked up and there was a look of interest and care. “As I was saying, there wouldn’t be a problem if you did have a kid. Which is totally fine. There’s nothing wrong with having a child. Not that I’m insinuating that there is something wrong with having a child. Hell, I love kids. I would love to have children of my own. It would actually make my mother very happy. She’s been on my case about settling down and in all honest, its harder than it looks. I was just confused when I saw the baby and-”

You watched him amusedly as he rambled off like a train. His words were going a mile a minute and he seemed stuck in his own world for a moment. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to see how long he would go on for or you should interrupt him. You chuckled. “Midoriya.”

He quickly closed his mouth as he looked up to you realising that he went off. He dropped his head in apology. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to go off like that.”

You just laughed it off. “It’s alright. Really. Although you should tell everyone, especially Shoto,” You popped your own smirk for a second, a spark coming to his eye before you turned back to a serious expression. “that that isn’t the reason why I left Katsuki.” You revealed to him as you turned around to go back to the kitchen. “Want coffee?” You asked him.

Midoriya chuckled as he stood up from your couch. “It’s two in the morning.” He reminded you. He picked up the empty mugs on the table and followed you into your kitchen.

You turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “And?”

He paused for a second and for one of the rare moments that you had known Midoriya you saw a dark hint of mischief in his eyes. Amusement mixed with something else entirely. He chuckled and nodded his head towards you. “I’d love a cup.” He assured you. He put the mugs in your sink and then proceeded to take off his thick white gloves right as you put on the kettle.

You quickly kicked off the counter. “It’s okay, Midoriya. I can wash those.” You tried to get to the dishes as you reached beside him.

“Nope.” Without warning, you were hoisted up easily. You let out a short yelp at that. He picked you up so easily it made you feel concerned. He hoisted you on top of your counter, keeping you there. He gave you a pointed look. “You are going to sit here and wait for the water to boil. I am an unwanted guest who has to atone by washing your dishes.” He gave you a genuine smile. “Really. It’s okay. I like washing dishes.” You were speechless as you watched him turn around. He put his gloves to the side and reached back to pull down his hero suit. You watched wordlessly as he pulled off his sleeves wrapping them around his midsection before setting to work on your mugs. You fought back the heat that creeped up your neck at how you were faced with the sculpted image of his back. Few scars littered it but it was a mesmerising site. Hard earned muscle, broad shoulders with a slenderer waist exposed to you so easily.

You quickly looked down away from him. You really had been alone for too long. You cleared your throat. “I prefer laundry.” You told him, trying to distract yourself. “I find it calming in a sense.” You reached back behind you to the cupboard to fetch two mugs. You eyed the Dynamight mug that you never had the heart to throw away. You frowned. You picked up two plain mugs and brought them down to the counter you were sitting on. “I didn’t know Mr Number One washed his own dishes.” You teased.

Midoriya froze for a second. He thanked the heavens that you couldn’t see his facial expression the else you might have seen the way he nearly rolled his eyes back. He closed his eyes and took a breath before forcing a smile at your statement. He shrugged. “I love to do it when I can, but the commission prefers sending housekeeping to my apartment, so it depends whether I’m lucky or not.” He told you honestly, as he busied himself in the mugs and plate that was in your sink.

“Oh so ProHero Deku doesn’t have some budding housewife waiting for him back home? I’m scared I might be taking someone else’s time.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “Nope. You aren’t taking anyone’s time. It’s... it’s just me.” He told you a bit more quieter than he was originally.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you leaned forward slightly. “Weren’t you and Uravity a thing?” You slid off the counter noticing the kettle calm down. You grabbed the coffee and sugar as you started making the two of you coffee.

“Nah.” He shook his head. “Nothing more than...” He hesitated as he turned his head slightly. He tried to find the right way to put it. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment before turning to focus back on the dishes properly. “Friends with benefits, so to speak.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise at that. Midoriya in your eyes had never seemed like the type to dabble in one night company. He only took people he was interested into Hero Galas and if not it was a close partner or no one at all. “Oh? I didn’t know you fucked around, Midoriya.” You teased as you mixed the coffee and sugar within the mugs. “What’s your type? Brunettes?”

He chuckled as he shook his head. “I don’t have a specific type and I don’t fuck around.” He finished putting the last mug on the drying stand. “Not entirely.” He turned back to look at you. You stood in front of him with a waiting hot cup of coffee. He lowered his shoulders and smiled as he gratefully took it out of your hands. His large hands brushing against yours and consuming the cup more than you thought it would. “Thank you.” He motioned towards you with the mug in hand. “One-night stands and those type of relationships aren’t really my thing.” He told you honestly with a shrug.

You both stood opposite each other, leaning against the counters. You enjoyed the warmness of the coffee as you looked back up at him. “Ever consider becoming a sugar daddy?” You asked him.

Midoriya nearly choked on his coffee. You let out a laugh at his reaction as he quickly cleared his throat. He looked up at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on his lips, he glanced down at his coffee before flicking his heated gaze up to you. He decided to entertain you. “What? Are you interested?” He asked you.

Your eyes moved up to him again as you lowered your mug from your lips. You looked to the side with a scoff as you leaned back. “What makes you assume that?”

He shrugged. “Why else would you be asking?”

You looked him up and down wondering if this was him teasing you back. “You are aware that you are the one who came knocking on my door in the middle of the night, right?”

“Yes.” Midoriya sighed as he looked up for a moment. His eyes went back to you, dark green eyes that held something more intense than you thought you could have found there. His eyes moved down before slowing moving up your figure. It was then that you realised that you were standing in little less than your short crop pyjama set with no bra on. You let out a stuttered breath as you held your mug closer to you effectively making you breasts much more defined to him (not to your knowledge). He looked back up at you, eyes dark in seduction and contained lust. “But you let me in, didn’t you?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“Hm...” You thought about it for a moment. “Did I make a mistake of some kind?”

Midoriya shrugged. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

You spent hours talking to Midoriya, and you barely even noticed it at all. It was like talking to someone you had known for the longest while. It didn’t make much sense to you but then again, you didn’t really want it to make a lot of sense. You were enjoying yourself and you had company. It was much more than you could say about yourself for the past two years. His smile and laugh were contagious and he was a great listener and talker too.

Often than not you could found yourself lost in the stories he chose to tell. All the many things he had gotten through that could make little to no sense sometimes when he rambled but somehow only made the stories that much more genuine. You weren’t exactly sure how a quick check in just flowed into the both of you sitting on the couch for the past four hours just talking. Yet you couldn’t regret it even if you wanted to.

You shook your head as you sat in front of him, one arm resting on your hiked knee and the other resting on the back of the couch. “Oh Katsuki can be annoying.” You nodded your head with a chuckle.

“Can be?” Midoriya looked at you as if you were crazy. “No one infuriates me more than him.” He stated persistently making you laugh. “I hide it in public but God does he have me wanting to punch something.” He rolled his eyes. “He contradicts me in everything. He questions me in front of other heroes when things are absolutely flawless, ridicules me in front of the media and constantly berates me. It’s...” He chuckles as he pulls a hand through his green curls. “It’s fucking annoying.”

“Whoa there, Midoriya.” You put up your hands in surrender. “Don’t take your anger out on me.” He chuckled at your words. You relaxed and nodded your head. “Yah, it was pretty annoying, your petty rivalry to be honest. Or to be more specific, Katsuki never letting it go.” You rolled your eyes at the memories. “And God does thinking of him just makes me so angry. It makes me so mad cause I feel like such a fool. Even now.” You shrugged as you starred off to the side. You had barely been able to talk about your feelings towards Bakugou after the breakup, but you’d always just refused to even entertain it. Then again, maybe that’s why you didn’t move on. “After he cheated on me,”

Midoriya’s eyes flicked up to you. His facial expression didn’t change in fear of you not continuing but that caught him off guard. Bakugou Katsuki? Cheat? It was something Midoriya never thought possible, but then again why else would you be here, and he was out there? The two of you had an envious relationship. Why would that all be thrown away?

“I thought travelling and just spending time on myself would work. That maybe finding purpose in me would work, but no. Nothing’s changed. I am still alone, barely moving where I was two years ago and he is out there. New relationship, breaking boundaries, advancing as the Number Two hero. God if I could just...” You closed your eyes as you bawled up your fists. You let out a smile as you sighed. “Sorry Midoriya, I didn’t mean to dump on you like that.”

“Don’t apologise.” He told you honestly. “I wanted to listen. You deserve someone to listen to you.” He motioned towards you. He took a moment to think, eyebrows furrowing as he did so. He looked back to you as he leaned back against your couch. “You coming to the Hero Dinner next month?” He asked you. “We’ve missed you out there. Being at events, representing us and standing there being the face for the public to see.” His fingers traced circles on the cushion next to him.

You hesitated. “Midoriya... I don’t think I’m that same woman.”

“Aww come on.” He threw one arm open. He adjusted his seating. “You know what I most admired about you?” He asked you, and you could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t trying to pressurise you. He wanted to genuinely tell you. “You... YN, were the only person I could ever see stand in front of a ton of heroes, host an entire gala and then proceed to go outside, control the press and act like its a regular Tuesday all while wearing stilettoes.” You smiled as you looked down at your lap. “You are the only one who wasn’t a hero, who spoke up to defend us against the commission for all the wreckage that happened in the suburbs due to a big villain attack that went too out of control. You were the only one that somehow is neutrally good and balances both sides. You’re a powerful woman, Y/N. You shouldn’t forget that.” The smile on your face, that he caused due to his words, made everything so much better to have said it in his eyes. Midoriya looked out to the windows. “Holy All Might, what’s the time?”

You looked back at the windows too and saw the sunrise orange hues stream inside your apartment. Your eyebrows raised in shock at how it was already the morning. “Uh...” You checked the clock on your wall. “Six. Six fifteen.” You told him.

Midoriya stood up and in a flash of lightning he was still standing in place but this time he had his gloves in hand. He zipped back up his hero shirt, never really having put it back on since having taken it off initially. “I should get back home and take a nap before my meeting at twelve.” He told you, pulling his gloves back on.

“I thought you said you don’t sleep.” You shot to him as you stood up, opening the balcony doors for him.

Midoriya shot you a smirk, sharp canines glinting in the morning light. His skin was glowing, freckles that dotted his skin all over only enhanced by the light and made prominent by his smile. Dimples. “I don’t. I nap. There’s a difference.” You chuckled as you stood against the doorway. He snapped his fingers and he pressed a button on his gloves and his white hero cape came flying back to him, clipping onto his shoulders. He walked over to stand next to you. He kept his eyes on you for a moment. He wanted to say so much and yet felt like if he said anything else he would never leave. “I’ll text you later? Or more accurately, when I get home.”

You nodded your head. “Yah, you will. Knowing you.” He chuckled. You motioned back to his cape. “Does your cape always just blow majestically with no breeze?”

Midoriya looked back behind him. “Uh...” He turned his head back to you. “You’d be surprised how much the PR team pays the hero support department at my agency.” You shook your head with a chuckle. He shot you a wink. “Same time Tuesday?” He asked as he started to walk out onto your balcony.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a date?”

“Whoa I never said that.” He raised his hands up. He had a smirk on his face though as he pushed his green curls back. “You want me that bad, huh? How much does baby want? Five hundred thousand yen per meet up?”

You rolled your eyes. “Goodbye, Midoriya.” You turned to go back inside before pausing once your brain digested the amount. “WAIT! HOLD ON!” You quickly turned around.

You heard laughter but he was already gone. You looked up at the sky with a smile. You shook your head as you closed the door. You weren’t sure how to feel but the smile on your face couldn’t leave. You walked over back to your room that was the exact same since you left it. You fell back into your covers as you looked up at the ceiling. You wondered what the hell this was all for?

You giggled as you covered your eyes with a sigh. Maybe you needed a nap yourself. You moved the sheets when you felt your phone buzz. You raised an eyebrow as you picked it up off your side table. You opened your phone and saw a message from Midoriya. It was an image of him in his apartment with a thumbs up.

Midoriya: Made it home safe. Heavy congestion though.

You rolled your eyes at him.

Ever since then you found yourself stuck on your phone texting Midoriya none stop. Any time he had free time he would send you a text and you would send one back. It was a back and forth thing. Soon you found yourself starring at your phone waiting for it to light up telling you that you had a message. You found yourself smiling at your phone and waiting on every message or text.

Midoriya couldn’t exactly say that he didn’t feel the same. He couldn’t exactly say that he didn’t wait on your every text, voice message or call. Even his sidekicks started noticing it and hell even started to tease him. He didn’t really mind, if it meant hearing you ramble about your day on a voice note only making him smile.

Although he had to put his phone away when dealing with cases or on patrol ninety percent of the time but then there was the hero dinner.

Heroes sat at their tables some with their partners, others surrounded by friends as the dinner was already in full swing. Midoriya was in a tight-fitting suit, slicked back green hair and a champagne glass in hand as he had glasses on and listened to ProHero Chargebolt speak of a mission he had last week. Dinner was yet to be served so as they waited, the group of heroes told stories and enjoyed the live music.

“I mean in my defence; he was in my shock radius.” He put his hands up in innocence.

ProHero Creati laughed as she smiled at the story. She wore a plum cocktail dress tailored to her figure. Momo raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you tell him to stay back?”

“I did.” Denki laughed. He shrugged as he lifted his own glass to his lips with a smirk. “Not my fault he didn’t listen.”

Mina shook her head amused at one of her closest friends. It never did make any sense to her any of his stories but she loved to listen to them anyways. She turned over to Midoriya with a smile. Her innocent smile turned diabolical as she looked at him. Midoriya’s raised an eyebrow slowly wondering whether he should run or not. “So Midoriya...” She started. “I heard from a little birdie that you’re dating someone.”

Midoriya nearly choked on his champagne. Iida rubbed his back as he put down the champagne glass. Midoriya coughed as he looked up at the pink hero.

Bakugou who sat opposite Midoriya at the round table raised an eyebrow. He scoffed. “Yah right.”

Midoriya cleared his throat as he sat up. He looked to Iida with an appreciative glance. “Thank you.” He said in gratitude before turning to Bakugou in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at the blond. “Excuse me, Kacchan...” He started with a forced smile.

Mina and Denki pursed their lips as they looked at each other knowing that the two pros were about to have it out against one another. Iida sighed knowing that something was about to happen. “Here we go again.” He muttered as he took a sip of his own champagne. Shoto raised an eyebrow not understanding why everyone was reacting like that.

“What do you mean by that?” Midoriya asked putting down his glass and looking up at Bakugou.

Kirishima looked down at the blond next to him nervously, not knowing whether to step in or not. Bakugou smirked as he leaned back in his chair. “I mean it like you think I mean it.” He shot back. “Why on earth would you be dating someone?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Midoriya tilted his head, his smile becoming strained as he started to grow annoyed. “Because I want to?”

“Please, like you could find someone to date.” Bakugou shot back as he put down his glass. Everyone at the table had wide eyes at his words, keeping their mouths shut as they looked to Midoriya. Midoriya kept his pleasant smile on his face but one could physically feel the electricity and restraint around him as he looked over to Bakugou. His jaw was tense and he looked to him with nothing but empty green eyes. Bakugou started counting his reasons. “You’ve barely got time for a partner, you talk too much, the reality of actually dating the top hero chases most people away after a month and you’re probably as vanilla as four eyes over there.”

Iida looked over to Bakugou with a shocked expression. “Hey, I-” He stopped talking as he felt a hand go over his.

Midoriya didn’t look to Iida but kept facing forward. The aura around him was suffocating and the energy at the table was too tense for words. Everyone bounced looking from Bakugou to Midoriya before settling on the green haired hero to see what he had to say. Midoriya hummed as he sat back, he picked up his champagne glass and took a sip. “Well, at least I don’t cheat on my partners, Kacchan.”

Like a bucket of ice had been poured onto him, Bakugou went stiff and pale. Bakugou didn’t want to believe it. He let out a scoff. “Yah as if.” He couldn’t believe it. You had never told a soul of why you had broken up with him. You hadn’t want to ruin the way his friends saw him. Or at least that's what Bakugou thought. How on earth would Midoriya know. He couldn’t possibly. But with one flick of Midoriya’s jade gaze to Kirishima along with a raised eyebrow before looking back to the blond, Bakugou knew that he knew the cold hard honest truth.

Midoriya opened his mouth to speak before a hand went to his shoulder. “Enjoying the champagne everyone?” He turned around and his eyes widened. Standing behind him was you and God did you look gorgeous. You stood in a classy suit, your blazer having a deep v-cut revealing nothing but unblemished skin underneath. You stood in heels as you looked over at the table, your hand on Midoriya.

Denki shot up with smile. “Y/N!” He cheered. You chuckled as he quickly made his way over to you with a hug. He pulled you in tightly, glad to have you back. “God, you can’t believe how worried I was when I saw you on the front page of the newspaper.”

You hugged him back, grateful to be holding him again. He was one of your closest friends and someone you never lost contact with. It hurt to be away from him because no matter what he always loved and supported you. It was just the type of friend that he was. “It’s great to see you too, Denks.” You told him honestly.

Mina waved at you, glad to see you too. “Girl, where have you been?” She asked you with a tilt of her head. “You tell me you’re in the country and yet we haven’t hit the clubs.”

You chuckled as you stayed at Denki’s side. “I’ve been resting before entering the scene again.” You say with a sigh as you looked around the table. “It’s good to see everyone like this again.” You spoke honestly. Your eyes went to Bakugou. He was frozen as he looked at you, red crimson eyes locked onto your being. You were still gorgeous as ever. It was as if time stopped for him, seeing you facing him once more. However, your gaze then moved to his partner. Kirishima sat next to him, still not able to bear the weight of your gaze as he held his champagne glass in his hand. He was glad he left his hair loose today, allowing him to focus on a red stray lock of hair than to look at you. “Red Riot...” He stilled at the mention of his hero name. You never used to call him that. Always referring to him as Kiri or Eijiro. Never Red Riot. Never so formal. “Dynamight, that interview on the Daily T show was great.” You congratulated.

Before you could spend any more clearly tense and strained attention on them, Midoriya stood up, taking your attention. The tall green haired hero looked down at you with a smirk on his freckled face. His emerald, green eyes looked your outfit over again, deep dark eyes going over your figure as if wanting to burn the image of you into his head. His smirk only grew causing a dimple to appear. “Look who decided to show up.” He teased, placing his hands in his pockets as he looked down at you.

You squeezed Denki’s hand before turning fully to face Midoriya. You chuckled as you folded your arms over your chest, trying to match his cockiness. “I’ll have you know, Mr Number One, that I had a good influence.” You shrugged.

Midoriya clenched his jaw as he felt a shiver run down his spine and his cock twitch. He clenched his hands in his pockets. He had to find some way of getting you to stop saying those three words. At least not in public. He raised an eyebrow down at you. “Good influences?” You nodded your head, only making him hum as he watched you in a heat causing gaze. “Does this mean I have to keep offering you money to come to events?”

You thought about it for a moment, putting a finger to your lips as you thought. You tilted your head before looking back at him. “Hm... no, but maybe if you beg though.” Midoriya let out a chuckle which made you smile. You opened your mouth to speak before receiving an instruction through your earpiece. You hummed pressing down on it for a moment before looking back up at Midoriya. You sighed. “Well, I have to make sure I keep up your good images for the press.”

Taking you by surprise before you could leave, Midoriya pulled you in by the waist against him. His arm wrapped tightly around you with his face just a few small inches away. You felt your lungs run out of breath as you grew flustered. Heat moving up your neck at the intimate act. He smirked down at you, noticing your flustered expression. “Will I see you after this?” He asked more quietly, eyes glancing over at a certain livid blond.

You caught on quickly. Deciding to entertain him, you took a risk. You nodded at his question before pushing your body further against him. You moved one hand to the back of his neck, threading your fingers through curly green hair and pulling his head down to speak into his ear. Your lips brushed against his ears as you were about to speak. “Same place same time?”

Midoriya was motionless only for less than a second at the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He smirked and leaned his head closer to you. “Better be coffee.” He whispered back

“Done.” You placed your lips against his neck in a kiss. Midoriya’s eyebrows raised slightly but his smile only grew. You were careful not to leave too much lipstick on him as you retracted yourself. You fiddled with the loose hairs at the back of his neck. You let go of him, walking away, keeping a hand on him. “See you later.” You shot him a wink as you squeezed his bicep. You gave Denki a wave as you walked off to greet other hero guests.

Midoriya’s eyes followed you for a second, all his attention on you and the way your body moved and swayed as you walked away. He cleared his throat, remembering where he was before turning back to the table. It was so painfully tense that if he had a knife, he could probably cut it. With an extra pep in his step, he took his seat again and picked up his champagne glass. A clear unremovable smile on his face that he couldn’t even deny if he wanted to. He looked it over before turning his gaze over to Mina. “Mina can you pass the champagne?” He asked.

Mina was stuck with a dropped jaw expression. Denki raised his eyebrows before releasing a scoff in disbelief. “Mr Midoriya... or should I call you Mr Rizzdoriya?” He stated as he took the bottle and handed it to Midoriya, with a teasing wink.

Midoriya chuckled. “What? No.” He shook his head as he took the bottle gratefully. Midoriya took out the cork and poured into his glass. He hummed to himself for a moment before lifting his gaze up to Bakugou who looked as though if he got close enough to Midoriya he would gouge his eyes out. Midoriya’s smile on grew brighter as he put down the bottle. “I mean… like I could find someone to date.” He tilted his head slightly before putting the champagne back in a bucket of ice.

-Glitch1d

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mcflymemes · 7 months

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PRE-ESTABLISHED CONNECTIONS WISHLIST * are you looking for some unique dynamics or interesting plots? send me a symbol to tell me what kind of connection you want with my muse! also feel free to switch things around and adjust as necessary! use these as suggestions!

🌳 - our muses dated for a while until they realized they made much better friends than romantic partners. now they're just friends and they do not want to talk about their dating history, thank you very much

🌹 - our muses' parents were friends, and they brought our muses together as kids and made them hang out all the time... so now they're kinda friends by convenience

💐 - your muse dated my muse's best friend, and it didn't work out, so my muse's best friend set us up on a date and now we're here

🌸 - our muses made out at a party, then exchanged numbers because it was really, really good. like, really good

🌼 - your muse owns a store that my muse loves to go to all the time

☘️ - someone in my muse's family set a curse on your muse's family, and maybe there's some way my muse can help reverse it to save yours

☀️ - our muses meet in an anonymous chat room online and fall in love, not realizing they know each other in real life. that's awkward

❄️ - our muses sat next to each other in a crowded theater and bonded during intermission

🍎 - our muses have been best friends since they were children

🍑 - your muse was "the one that got away" in my muse's life and now they're reuniting after years of never seeing each other

🥨 - our muses are on again, off again lovers who never seem to agree on what they should be

🍟 - your muse saved my muse's life once, and now that makes things a little awkward between them

🥕 - our muses are on opposite sides of a major conflict... and end up stuck together for a lengthy amount of time

🍿 - your muse's door was the first one mine saw. my muse is injured. will your muse help a stranger?

🍩 - our muses live next door to each other and slowly bond over all the helpful neighborly duties they do for each other

📺 - your muse was my muse's first kiss, and that's definitely complicated their friendship over the years and made things difficult to navigate

🚗 - our muses agreed years ago that if they didn't find a romantic partner by a certain age, they would get married. well! they both just reached that age!

🎲 - your muse is a famous actor. my muse is a simple bookstore owner. cue all the romance and drama (à la notting hill)

🎹 - your muse is a member of a royal family, and meets my muse (an average citizen) when they escape from all the pressures of their life (à la roman holiday)

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siribaes · 2 months

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ANGEL OF MINE (Sequel to Who’s Better Than Me?)

Rio x blackfem!reader (OC - Angel)

“After a plateau in their relationship, Rio sets out to make things right—”

PARING: Exes to Lovers / Past High School School Sweethearts

SUGGESTED TUNES 💿: We Need Resolution by Aaliyah, Best Thing by Usher, Take Away by Missy Elliott & Ginuwine, Think Of You by Amerie, Fallen by Mya, Ella Me Levanto by Daddy Yankee

CONTENTS: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, ANGST, Some fluff, professing of love, cursing, pinv, r*ugh s*x, cre*m p*e, or*l (fem receiving), Semi Redeemed Rio, Rio being a bedroom bully, with a dash of pettiness again lol, slight use of Spanish, a potential pregnancy, etc. (NOT PROOFREAD/UNEDITED)

AUTHORS NOTE: Genuinely I did not think about writing another part, but some ideas popped up in my head and so here we are lol! this part is kinda long but hope y’all enjoy regardless 💖 GIF CREDIT: by me :)

“How I'm supposed to be to you if you keep squirmin'? Be still,"

Angel couldn’t fully register Rio’s instructions over the pounding of her heart. She shivered, squirming in her spot on the bed. Rio lowered his head, placing small kisses on Angel’s stomach. The softness and warmth of his lips spurred her on even more, Angel began to pull away from Rio's touch.

“Don’t move,” Rio ordered, his large hands held her in place, one of them pressed down on Angel's stomach, "You gonna be good and listen, hm?"

“Yes! I’ll be g-good,” Angel whimpered.

Rio smiled down at her, keeping one hand on her stomach, while the other reached for his hardened shaft. He aligned himself with her dripping core, plunging the tip into her wetness, eliciting a soft moan from Angel. He repeated the movement a few times over slowly easing more of him into her. Angel’s whines grew more desperate with each shallow stroke.

With one last stroke, Rio bottomed out, fully, planting his hands firmly at Angel’s waist.

“Fuck, Angel. So fuckin’ tight,”

Angel’s hands snake up Rio’s back, pulling him towards her, as he began rocking into her.

“Angel,”

“Yes, baby?”

“Angel,”

“Hm?”

“Angel!”

With two snaps from her friend, Benny, Angel was pulled out of her reverie and back into reality.

“You good?” Benny asked as he waved his fork in the air.

“She’s fine,” Keke chuckled, “She’s just having a flashback, of Riooo,”

Angel rolled her eyes as she took a sip from her drink. She leaned back into her seat, looking at the passerbyers. It was a beautiful day, the sun shined brightly, casting down warm rays. After being stuck in the office in the all morning, the change in scenery was much needed.

“Have you talked to him?” Benny mused. He twirled pasta around his fork, before eating a large forkful.

“…No,” Angel sighed.

“Seriously?” Keke asked, eyes wide with shock. “I thought y’all hit it off, literally, after the reunion,”

“We did! And the sex was amazing, but—”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, y'all. So much time has passed, and he's changed so much since we were in high school, I feel like he's not the same boy I once knew,”

"I mean duh, Angel," Keke shrugged, "are any of us who we were 20 years ago?"

"She's right, Angel," Benny added, "None of us are the same as we were back then. It's impossible, babe. It sounds like you more scared of what he does not who is,"

Angel leaned back into her chair; arms folded across her chest. Maybe Benny was right. There was never a moment that passed in the day that she didn't want to be wrapped in Rio's arms. To just be with him. Yet, every time Angel wanted to reach out something stopped her. Everything was different about Rio and seeing him at the reunion was a bit jarring. From his clothes to the way he walked, even that damn eagle tattoo itched on his neck. The way he practically had all of their former classmates fawning over him, laughing at all of his jokes. There was a dangerous charm that Rio possessed. Sure, Angel was used to Rio's boy-ish charms after being on the receiving end of it, but this was something entirely different. It was potent, calculated, and completely irresistible. That was developed from experience, an experience that made Angel think twice.

"By all means, I'm not excusing Rio's, nefarious activities," Benny continued, "I just think you should at least talk to the man. The man, you've been in love with most of your life,"

"And from that glow you've been sporting," Keke added, she paused to a sip from her drink, slurping for dramatic affect. Benny and Angel chuckled, "I know that dick was good. So, take a chance! You'll never know what could happen between you too,"

Angel nodded. For the rest of the day, she pondered Benny and Keke's advice. She had to take a chance, she had to try.

----

It wasn't until 10 PM, when Angel pulled to her home. Arms chalked full of groceries, she wanted to stock up on food and other snacks for her much needed staycation. Angel trudged up the stairs, to her humble bungalow, she fumbled with the straps of the shopping bags and her work purse, trying grab her keys. She quickly opened the door, once inside she locked the door behind her and made a beeline for the kitchen.

Angel didn't bother to turn the light on in the kitchen. Her mind was preoccupied with putting the groceries away so she could take a shower and finally relax. So much that she didn't notice a smoldering, Rio leaned against the refrigerator. He watched her as she unloaded the groceries, not wanting to disturb her just yet. He wanted to admire the way her slacks hugged her curves, just a tad bit longer.

With a grocery bag in hand, Angel turned around, immediately meeting Rio's eyes. Her heart dropped to her stomach.

“Fuck!”

Angel quickly crouched down, grabbing the spilled groceries on the floor. Rio crossed the room in quick strides, bending down to help. A quietness fell over them as they loaded the items into the reusable bag.

“…What are you doing here? How did you get here? You know what don't answer that," Angel sputtered. She sat the bag on her breakfast table. She folded her arms over her chest, “No call, no text. I mean, what the hell Rio?”

His expression was indecipherable as Rio peered at her. His eyes continued to trace over her, as if he was trying to commit her features to memory, as if he really needed to for that matter. Rio tipped his head to the side and scratched the light stubble on his chin.

Angel mentally kicked herself, only Rio could look that dangerously good in minimal lighting. She averted her eyes, looking at the calendar tacked on her fridge, before looking back at Rio.

He shrugged. “I could say the same. You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You avoidin’ me?”

Angel scoffed. “First off, I’m not avoiding you. Second, who breaks into someone’s home after not seeing for a couple of weeks—”

“—A month,”

“However, long it was. If you wanted to talk, this isn’t the way to go about it,”

Rio nodded slowly, poking his bottom lip in that ever so subtle way, as he mused over Angel’s words.

“If I called, would you have answered?”

Angel opened her mouth to respond but quickly closed it. Truth was, if Rio did call, she wouldn’t have picked up. Not because Angel didn’t want to, it was complicated. The night that they shared was magical, more amazing than anything Angel could ever dream of, but when the sun rose the next morning and reality set in. They were too different, Angel lived a normal life, she loved her job, her friends, her family, even the “Tinkerbell” car she drove. Her life was routine, with a few moments of spontaneity (hooking up with Rio was one of them). Rio’s life she assumed, was nothing but spontaneity, having to always keep one eye open, always looking over one’s shoulder. Adding Rio into the equation was too much. It was easier when they were younger, it was simpler time. Their love came with no extra baggage, it was pure.

Now, things are much different, Rio was different. He’s a crime boss for pete’s sake, and Angel knew that he didn’t want the same things, as she did. Last time she checked, living the life of a criminal didn’t allow for marriage and kids, not in the way Angel wanted anyway.

“Rio,” Angel began, the dropped her arms, and twiddled with her fingers, “you…we, we are just different,”

A deep sigh escaped Rio. When Angel finally met Rio’s gaze she could see the cracks in his resolve. His jaw was tight, and usual brown eyes carried a hardness in them. Rio ran a hand across her features, rolling his shoulders while doing so.

“You breakin’ my heart, Angelita,” Rio took a few steps forward, now standing only a few away from Angel. He easily towered over her small frame, “what’s so different about me?”

“Y-you’ve changed, I’ve changed,”

“So?”

“So?! This is serious, Rio, are lives are completely different, you don’t want the same things as me,”

“Bullshit. I need real, Angel. Why are you pullin’ away from me?”

“You’re a fucking criminal, Rio!”

A huge wave of embarrassment and guilt washed over her, she quickly buried her face in her hands. She couldn’t bear to look at Rio after saying what she said. How could she react like that? Regardless of her aversion to what Rio does, he deserved more respect than the outburst she just had. This was the man she’s been in love with since she fifteen, he deserved better.

Angel felt Rio gently wrap his hands around hers, and pulled them away from her face. He then tilted Angel’s upwards to meet his gaze. Rio searched her eyes, seeing the guilt in them he softened.

“You scared of me, Angel?”

Angel froze. Her mind traveling back to the night they spent together, and the glimpse gun she saw as she left his place. Her mind drummed up all of the scenarios that could happen, flashes of him in an orange jumpsuit behind bars, and his name across the headstone in the graveyard. A future that she never wanted to see, but in a way already happened. A little into Angel's first semester of college, word got out Rio was going to prison, it broke her. She couldn't bear to see him like that or worse, 6 feet under.

So, to answer his question was she scared of Rio, no. Was she scared of what could happen to Rio, absolutely, Angel loved him too much just to be okay with could happen to him. Or what he could do to others.

"Hey, hey," Rio spoke, pulling her focus back to him, "there you go wonderin' again. Tell me, what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

Angel sighed. “...I don’t like what you do,”

Rio dropped his hand away from Angel's chin. He nodded slowly, processing. A quietness fell over them, as they stared wordlessly at one another. Rio's eyes slowly trailed down towards Angel's chest. She felt the breath hitch in her throat, when he reached towards her. Gently, he lifted the necklace she wore. Rio held the angel pendant between his fingers, the pad of his thumb softly tracing over the figure's wings.

"You kept it," Rio spoke, his eyes combing over the figure with Angel could only interpret as fondness. Her heart fluttered. "You know, I put in mad work tryna get this. Cutting grass, washing cars, all that shit. I wanted you to feel good. I wanted you to know I loved you,"

"Rio..."

"Por siempre y para siempre, forever and always. That's what's engraved on the wings. Angel, you're my forever, you're my always. It's only been you,"

Angel felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. This is the most vulnerable she's seen Rio, ever. To hear him speak with such sincerity and conviction, Angel couldn't help her heart swell with love.

"My business is my business, and I can't change what I did and all the choices I've made. But being with you made me realize, mama that shit has an expiration date," Rio brought his hands to Angel's face, and cradled her soft cheeks, "I can't promise that I'll magically become a better man over night, but I want to try, for you will. 'Cause I don't wanna loose you mama, not again,"

Without a second thought Angel leans forward and kisses Rio. Their kiss was sweet, tongues moving in tandem as Angel snaked her arms around Rio, pulling him closer to her. Her fingers caress the top of Rio's head, soft touches rubbing at his scalp. Rio lets out a throaty groan, its vibrations straight to Angel's core. A flush of heat rushes through her entire body. She breaks the kiss.

"I wanna try, Christopher," Angel whispers. She nuzzles Rio's nose. He pulls away slightly, to see her face fully. A smile blooms across his face. He kisses her again.

"Yeah?" Rio's smile grows wider seeing the sincerity in Angel's face.

"Yes, baby," Angel nods, biting her lip.

A flicker of lust danced in Rio eyes. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, while his hands drifted towards Angel's bottom. Rio's large hands squeezed and palmed her ass. He landed a firm smack on her ass.

"Rio!"

He chuckled. "Go upstairs, and get on the bed, how I like," Rio mumbled against her cheek, before placing a soft kiss there.

Angel didn't waste any time, she raced upstairs to her bedroom, completely forgetting about her groceries in the kitchen. She kicked off her heels, stripping off her slacks and dress shirt. Angel sat on her bed, legs spread out for him, in only her bra and panties. Coincidently, in his favorite color, green.

Minutes seemed to drawl into hours as Angel waited. Her heart rattled against her chest, as Angel's mind raced at the possibilities of what Rio was going to do to her. Another a minute or so passed when Angel heard Rio's footsteps coming up the stairs.

He appeared in doorway with two bottles of water in hand. He smoothly entered the room, eyes glued to Angel, he settled on a spot in front of Angel's vanity. Rio sat one of the water bottles down on the table, while he opened the other, taking a quick sip. His were so heated, so blazed as they roamed Angel's body. It felt like invisible hands were rubbing and caressing her all over.

"You look good, mama. All spread out for me. Shit, lingerie in my favorite color too..."

"All for you, baby," Angel cooed.

Rio's lips tipped into small smile. He took another swig of water. He sat the bottle down, putting the cap back on.

"I'm not gonna lie, you hurt my feelings, when you went ghost on me..."

"Rio, baby, I'm sorry–"

"Sshhh," Rio hushed Angel with a finger to his lips, "All is forgiven, but you got make it up to me. You gonna make it up to me, darlin'?"

Angel nodded.

"Play with that pussy for me."

Angel slowly peeled out of her panties, making a show out of it, she made sure that Rio got a view of her ass. She flung them to the side, returning her previous position. Widening her legs, Angel's fingers found themselves at her core, swiping at the wetness, she began to rub taut circles on her clit.

"Fuck!" Angel whined.

"Damn..." Rio voice trailed, eyes zeroing in Angel's core. He hummed in satisfaction as fingers began to unbutton his flannel. "You, look so fuckin' good. You close?"

"Yesssss, I'm so close! I need you soooo bad," Angel moaned as her fingers continued to rub tight circles on her clit.

"I got you, just keep going. I wanna see my pretty girl cum for me,"

Angel felt the familiar knot in her belly as her orgasm began to build. Her wetness pooled out of her the more her fingers worked her core. She felt her pussy flutter when Rio peeled out his t-shirt, revealing his svelte frame covered in intricate tattoos. Seeing his rich skin practically covered ink, tipped her over the edge.

"Ooooh, shit, I'm cummin',"

"Mhm, let it out for me, mama," Rio egged her on.

Angel shook as her orgasm coursed through her, wetting up her sheets. She laid down on the bed, closing her eyes as she rode out the aftershocks, her skin tingling with pleasure. Quick taps on her thighs, brought her back, she opened her eyes to Rio looming over her.

"On all fours, darlin',"

Angel obliged. She turned and faced her faced her headboard. She adjusted herself, making sure her the arch in her back was damn near perfect. Rio's belt and zipper clinked and clanked as he undressed himself. His hands palmed her ass, the callused pads of his fingers felt good against her skin. Angel mewled loudly, when she felt Rio's soft tongue lick down her slit.

"Christopher!"

"You taste good. Sweet as fuck," Rio groaned. "You ready for me?"

"Yes, baby. Please don't play with it," Angel turned her head to look at him, biting down her lip. She gazed into his stormy eyes, clouded thick with lust. With one hand, Rio's fingers trailed down Angel's spine, pausing for second. Then landed another firm smack on her Angel's ass. "Baby! Be nice,"

"Nah," Rio stated firmly, he deepened Angel's arch. He adjusted himself, inching his dick closer to Angel's entrance, "You still got some makin' up to do,"

With no warning, Rio plunged into Angel, bottoming out completely. Angel's toes curled, at his fullness and the stretch that only he could give her. He circled himself inside her, pulling himself out, then plunging back in. Rio tightened the grip on Angel's hips as began to rock into her. She gushed and clenched around his member, nails clawing at the sheets below them.

"Goddamn," Rio hissed, "I feel you tightin' around me. You close already?"

"Oh my god! Yes, you fuckin' me so good,"

"Yeaaaah, that's right me, only me. Nobody else, right mama?"

"N-nobody else, baby, shit! I love you so much, Christopher,"

Angel felt Rio's hips stutter at her confession. It only served as more motivation for Rio, spurring him on, he pistoned into Angel faster and harder. He reached downwards, grabbing a handful of her coils, yanking her upwards.

"Say it again," He rasped in her ear.

"I-I-I love you, shit,"

"Again,"

"I love you, I love you, I love you, Rio I'm cumming," Angel cried out.

Rio held Angel close, fucking her through her orgasm. Angel shuddered, as she felt her essence drip down her thighs, as Rio continued to thrust into her wildly, kissing and nibbling at her ear lobe. He slowed rhythm of his hips, letting Angel's hair go, placing small kisses down her neck and shoulders.

"You did so good for me," Rio breathed out. He softly patted at Angel's plush thighs, as he slowly pulled out. "Face me,"

Angel shifted around, laying on her back she spread her legs wide. Rio situated himself between Angel's legs. He stroked himself a few times, biting his lip at the small squelching noises he made. In one swift motion, Rio plunged himself back in, fully engulfing himself in Angel's wet pussy.

"Fuckkkkkk," Rio growled. Angel whined in response. At this angle, Rio was hitting her spongy spot way deeper than before, causing waves of pleasure to flood her entire body. "Pussy so fuckin', shit, nena,"

Both her heart and her pussy fluttered, seeing the blissed out look on his gorgeous features. Rio was always so controlled and reserved most of them, so to see him like this, guttural, borderline animalistic, Angel loved it. She began to feel him throb inside of her, he was close.

"Mhmm, I feel you, baby. I want you to cum inside me," Angel cooed as she cradled the back of Rio neck.

"Yeah? You want me cummin', inside you. Careful, now. I might fuck around and give you a baby forreal,"

Angel cupped Rio's face, kissing him deeply. She pulled away, nodding her head in a wordless confirmation. Rio's eyes softened, at the realization. He bucked his hips, in deep, desperate strokes.

"Shit! Angelita, you gonna look so good, belly fully, with our baby, fuck. I love you, Angel," He grunted, as his resolve was wearing down by the second. The midst of his brutal thrust, Angel felt another orgasm hurdle towards the surface. Her walls spasmed around Rio's dick, screaming out as she came. "Just like that, fuck, eres mio, todo mio, baby, shit,"

A few strokes were all it took to send Rio over the edge. He buried himself in Angel's neck as his blasted his cum inside of her. Rio groans were muffled against Angel's skin. He held her closed as he shook from the pleasure, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum inside of her. Angel wrapped her legs around him, she didn't want to miss a single drop.

A calmness fell over them, as the breathed in tandem, hearts following the same rhythm. Rio lifted his head up, resting his chin on Angel's chest. Warms hands rubbed soft circles against her skin. He gazed at her, nothing but love and stardust in them.

"You're gonna be a good mom," He mumbled.

Angel smiled softly, she rubbed at his shoulders. "And you're gonna be a good dad. I love you, Christopher,"

"I love you too, mama. Por siempre y para siempre."

#siribaesfics #rio x reader #rio x blackfem!reader #rio x blackcurvy!reader #rio x black!reader #black fanfiction #poc fanfiction #rio smut #rio good girls fanfiction

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rinniessance · 5 months

Text

TEENAGE FEVER ༊*·˚ - suguru geto x fem!reader x satoru gojo

SUMMARY. you, satoru and suguru have been taking care of the fushiguro kids and the twins since your teenage days. after your latest mission, you reminisce about the beginnings of your little family. and during an impromptu trip, unspoken feelings finally come to a boil.

꒰ warnings: pure fluff! idiots in love. friends to lovers, mutual pining, family dynamics, non-canon compliant, megumi calls you mommy once ♡ // word count: 11.6k ꒱ ꒰ notes: another repost from my old account .ᐟ.ᐟ just really wanted to have this piece on my new blog <3 ꒱

sometimes you wonder why you agreed to be a part of madness that is the geto/gojo/you in a co-parenting throuple (you internally scream every time you remember how nonchalant satoru was about that description. what? i think that’s kind of adorable. you and suguru did not agree; somehow the name still stuck around). you would think that a pair of strongest sorcerers would be able to handle four first graders yet dozens of notifications that finally came through to your phone prove otherwise. your left eye twitches.

[ groupchat notifications: co-parenting throuple ] ‘toru /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\: girl dinner ! ‘toru /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\: [picture] sugu ₍ᐢ⑅ᐢ₎: im sorry i wasn’t there to prevent the disaster sugu ₍ᐢ⑅ᐢ₎: shall i prepare the casket?

messages are stamped two hours ago, and you’re too afraid to open the picture, dozens of different scenarios popping up in your head at the speed of light. when you finally unlock the messages, you think suguru was considerate enough to even suggest a casket because once you’re done with satoru gojo, there will be no body to bury.

you: you fed them cake for dinner ?? toru /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\ responded: it’s sunday! they deserve a little treat! sugu ₍ᐢ⑅ᐢ₎ responded: it’s a 12-inch cheesecake you responded: satoru, i know what you want to say, zip it. you’re in so much trouble already.

you: and why is it only you with the girls, where is megumi???? toru /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\ responded: and ‘gumi ate regular dinner like a child-man he is :< you responded: it’s called a man-child satoru… toru /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\: responded: no, megumi is a child-man because he has a soul of a man trapped in a body of a seven year old sugu ₍ᐢ⑅ᐢ₎ responded: so you’re calling him benjamin button? you responded: that’s why he doesn’t like either of you.

the frustration you felt towards satoru mere two minutes ago dissipates and gives space to something much warmer; the feeling that was tugging at you the whole weekend as you travelled to korea, sent away on a mission (you found yourself missing your little family more than you expected); the feeling that made you treating exorcising curses with utmost care because for the first time in a while, you want to come home safe. with a simple reminder of how lucky you’re to have satoru and suguru protecting the little piece of safe haven you carved out for yourselves; all the anger is gone as if it was never there in the first place.

you’re about to scroll through the earlier messages but flight attendant announces that the passengers are finally clear to get off the plane, so you shove the phone into your bag, grab your carry-on and hurry out. security check is surprisingly fast, and you’re riding a taxi back home in no time. you send a quick message to the group chat that you’re on your way and close your eyes.

quiet hum of the radio, steady movement of the car, and familiar surroundings immediately bring you peace – you’ve been feeling restless during your whole weekend trip, and now that you’re almost back with people you want to be with the most, you cannot help but smile. you’re being lulled to sleep by something pleasant playing on the radio, and your thoughts drift back to the day you found that being teenage parents can come in different forms.

3 years ago

you sigh again as you look at your watch. 4:23pm, satoru was supposed to be here 23 minutes ago. not only that, but he’s been ignoring your calls, not responding to your messages and did not tell anyone where he’s suddenly gone off to. suguru cannot be reached either, you know he has a mission today, so now you’re stranded in the middle of shibuya, your least favorite place to be, alone. you think this is the day you finally stab satoru gojo because he has the absolute nerve to beg you to come to this new dessert cafe, the one that just opened. supposedly, it was so good, you just have to try it - satoru convinced you to join him, knowing that you hate being in overcrowded spaces, only for to him to ghost you.

buzz of your phone brings you out of your thoughts.

[ incoming call: toru /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\ ]

“i swear to god, satoru, you better have to save half the planet as an excuse or —”

“where are you?”

“what? what do you mean where am i? in shibuya, where we were supposed to meet almost 30 minutes ago!”

“we’re going back to the school now, come back as soon as you can.”

and then he hung up. you blankly stared at the screen of your phone like it would somehow explain what just happened. with a deep sigh, you put the phone away and massage your temples, feeling the headache coming. satoru gojo might be the one who’s getting migraines from having six eyes but he always makes sure you have one too, just for the company.

ride back to the school is quick and easy – thankfully you’re in time to beat the rush hour, and currently, you’re standing in front of tokyo high. now that you’ve had time to calm your anger and frustration down, you realize that gojo would’ve at least texted you if he was late. something must’ve happened, and you feel panic start spreading its icy tentacles all over your body. picking up the pace, you almost run through the courtyard, pass the temple decorum and straight to doctor’s office – you assume he would be there if something happened.

you finally stand in front of the door: your breathing is heavy and you’re dizzy from how fast you sped up. the horrors of last year’s mission flash before your eyes, painting it blood, sorrow and anger, and you pray to every god known that it’s not a repeat of that failure. you almost lost suguru to the darkness that preyed on him, stalking his shadows, seeping through his skin – you are still haunted by how hollow his eyes became. you’re sure seeing him like this again will break you instead this time. you try to steady your breathing and knock.

“you can come in.”

of course satoru would know you were here. pushing the door and walking into the room, you are met by two little girls sitting on each suguru’s side on the hospital bed. satoru is standing next to them and observing his best friend who is gently murmuring something to the twins. both of them look unharmed which means shoko already worked her magic if it was necessary. it seems none of you want to bring up the elephant in the room so you just take a sit in the chair next to the desk.

“what happened?” your voice sounds loud in the hushed murmurs bouncing off the wall, and all four pairs of eyes are directed at you. it seems you startled the girls as they grabbed onto suguru’s sleeves – you cannot help but stretch your lips in a pretty smile, waving to them. “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” you tell them in a hushed tone this time, “would you tell me your names if i told you mine?”

brunette twin shakes her head for the both of them, and you introduce yourself. same girl responds to your curiosity.

“i am mimiko, and we’ve never met our parents but i know i am older by 5 minutes. and this,” she points at the girl on the opposite side of suguru, “is nanako. she is always a little shy so i make sure to talk for the both of us!” blonde girl curls a little more into your friend, and you finally make eye contact with him. you’re a little lost by what you see – hurt, anger, tenderness, confusion, he looks so defeated yet relieved at the same time. you’re turning to look at satoru instead but he only shrugs his shoulders.

“don’t look at me, he didn’t really share any details with me either.”

you hum in response and get up from the chair, walking to where the hospital bed is and squat to face them, extending your hand.

“well, it’s really nice to meet you, mimiko and nanako,” and as you get a little closer to their face, you whisper as it’s meant to be a secret, “i think we’ll become really good friends.”

from what satoru told you, it seems that him and suguru hadn’t had a chance to talk yet – girls looked very attached to dark-haired man already, it’s most likely they wouldn’t leave his side and whatever gojo wanted to discuss was not meant for children’s ears. you’re too scared to overstep the friendship boundary you just started building with the girls but you know the look on your friends’ faces, and they tell you they need to have a serious and most likely unpleasant conversation (not too hard to guess what about). standing up, you tentatively reach out your hands to nanako and mimiko.

“have you ever tried crepes? there is a very good place that sells them nearby. what do you say if we go and grab some dessert, just us girls?”

you could see their eyes lit up as they looked back at suguru, looking for a confirmation you’re safe to go with. he smiled at them (that smile that sometimes makes your heart skip a beat and makes you yearn for something you know you could never have), making wrinkles appear in the corner of his crescent-like eyes.

“she is my friend, you can go with her. i’ll meet you in a little bit,” and as he looked back at you, he mouthed quiet “thank you”. you only smiled in return: suguru never needed to thank you, not after the near escape to hell you guided him away from; not after the sleepless nights you spent keeping him a quiet company on the rooftops of jujutsu tech because silence was everything he needed in those moments; not after tight embraces you had to hold him in when you witnessed a sliver of panic attack creeping up on him when he least expected it. in the year that followed the disastrous star plasma vessel mission, you were the light that guided suguru back to himself, back to satoru, back to you. geto didn’t need to say thank you, at least not to you, not anymore.

grabbing two little girls by their hands, you lead them out of school.

“i promise you we will have the best time.”

present

the particular rough bump of the car brings you back to the present moment. you look at the time on your phone, display showing 11:23pm, and you smile looking at the picture on your lockscreen: it’s a picture of satoru with nanako and mimiko, their mouths stuffed full of crepes.

after suguru decided to take the girls in, you and satoru made it a habit of coming over and helping him take care of them. geto and gojo used to be inseparable but the rift that broke in between them in the year that followed amanai riko’s death was a surprise. being close to both strongest sorcerers, you knew why it was there, you knew the sheer trauma of it for both of them. so you stayed with gojo when he needed you to keep reminding him that his shoulders do not have to carry the weight of the whole world, and you’re here to share it. and you stayed with geto when he was plunged into the coldness of heart-wrenching guilt and needed you to pull him out from under the deep. after suguru adopted nanako and mimiko, you were the bridge that crossed a seemingly bottomless crevice between the two of them.

making satoru see what he was missing with suguru’s behavour at the time and asking suguru to understand why satoru was seemingly oblivious to it in the first place – the confusion, the pain, the loss of innocence, and everything unsaid that went on between them – was almost as difficult as being a sorcerer in the first place. by a miracle, you stopped being their overpass as they started rebuilding their bridges themselves. yet, the connection you weaved with the sacred geometry of your hands between the three of you created a special bond that prevailed until this day.

unlocking your phone, you scroll through the earlier messages in the chat: messages that kids already miss you (sent 30 minutes after your plane took off on friday), stories about their successful disneyworld trip on saturday (traitors, you think, you’ve been begging them for a family outing there for months now), and cake-baking adventures today (you internally dread the mess that will have to be cleaned up in the kitchen). looking back at you from your home screen is the picture of megumi and tsumiki on their first day of school, proud suguru holding both their hands (megumi refused to hold satoru’s hand so he refused to be in the picture – sometimes you wonder who is the older out of the two). warmth takes over your entire being once again, and you allow yourself to recollect the memories of how the last pieces of your family all came together.

2 years ago

“i am going to meet with that kid fushiguro was talking about before he, you know,” and satoru dramatically slashed his neck with his finger, poking his tongue out, imitating a dead face. nanako and mimiko laughed from the opposite side of the table while you kicked him on the shin.

“please, satoru, i didn’t sign up to babysit three kids. eat your breakfast, i need to get girls to pre-school, we can talk about it once i’m back.”

“what if i drive you? and then we can go grab kikufuku from the new place that opened near shinjuku station, i heard it’s really good.”

“satoru, it’s 7am in the morning. unlike you, i am a normal human being who cannot possibly consume that much sugar this early. and,” you lean in closer and whisper so the girls cannot hear, “please don’t say stuff like this in front of the twins, they will think it’s normal to be asking for dessert at this ungodly hour.”

satoru thinks it’s adorable, how you huff and puff at the girls like a mother hen. ever since the girls started living with suguru, you made it your mission to come over at least once a week to make sure they have everything they need – and nanako and mimiko, as they once confessed to geto, love your presence. after everything they’ve been through, the girls learned to recognize the intention behind people’s auras, and yours only gave them peace. and, unbeknownst to them at this tender age, they have craved peace for a very long time. so he bites his tongue and keeps the snarky remark he wanted to say, instead quietly whispering “sorry”, and you appreciate the gesture that may seem small to another, but speaks volume to yourself.

“fine. we will be leaving in,” you look at the watch, squinting and thinking about how much time you have left, “30 minutes, make sure you’re ready or we’re leaving without you.”

you let the twins finish their breakfast and rush both of them to brush their teeth before you prep their outfits. suguru was sent out on a mission for the whole week (you worry; satoru tells you that with how much you worry about everyone and everything, you’ll be grayer than him in couple of years) and asked you to stay with the girls until he returns. you won’t lie – you’ve grown attached to them within the short amount of time you’ve been helping taking care of them so you agreed to babysit in a millisecond.

you didn’t expect that a third child will be living with you all this week too.

“why don’t i get my outfit chosen for me?” you feel satoru before you can even hear him, the never-ending reach of his limitless tingling your senses, rushing the goosebumps up your spine (this is totally normal, right? friends make other friends feel like this, right?). and you wish he would only be the omniscient presence that makes your knees weak because as soon as he opens his mouth, you want to roll your eyes and smack the back of his head. you learned to treat him like a child, if he wanted to behave like one.

“because mommy is busy and you’re old enough to do it on your own.”

satoru did not expect you to say that, sudden blush rushing to his face making his thoughts drift in a direction incredibly inappropriate for a friend. great. you’re so gross, satoru. he suddenly turned away and rushed out from the bedroom (if you had more time, you would’ve asked him what his deal was but alas, you were already running late). then he proceeded to stay quiet the whole morning: while you were getting nanako and mimiko dressed, while he was driving all of you to school, while you waved goodbye to the girls and made your way back to the car. the phrase kept running through his mind the whole time until you cleared your throat and looked at him with your brow raised.

“what’s gotten into you? you’ve been suspiciously quiet the whole morning. didn’t you want to talk about something?”

he forced all the wrong thoughts to stay hidden for now, patted them away like crows nibbling at the forbidden nerves of his sudden need. he cleared his throat and started driving away from the school, not knowing where he was taking the two of you yet.

“uh, yeah. i was telling you that i am going to meet with the fushiguro kid tomorrow.”

“okay… and?”

“and what?”

“what are you going to do?”

megumi fushiguro was discussed among you before, but no concrete decision was ever reached. what if the kid doesn’t even want to go with him? he won’t be able to drag him by force unless he wants to be accused of child abduction.

“i don’t know. if he does want to come with me, i have the resources to keep him out of whatever deal his father cooked up for him with the zen’in clan. but if he doesn’t… by the time he realizes what zen’ins are, and if he ever wants to leave, it’ll be too late,” satoru clicks his tongue at the mention of one of the three big families. it’s no secret gojo clan has not seen eye-to-eye with zen’ins for a long time now but for satoru, it’s personal.

“you know, if you decide to take him in, it’s not like one more child will really make a difference. you’ll just have to stop coming around and it’s like nothing changed,” the words come out of you with such levity, satoru sometimes thinks you don’t even realize that your presence alone can make a wilted flower spring back to life.

he can only laugh in response. you haven’t even met the kid and you already welcome him like it’s nothing to worry about. gojo always wanted to compare you to the sun, the stars or any other celestial being that shines so brightly, they illuminate every shadow in their reach. but as the time passed, he realized that he didn’t want you to be a sun, or a star – then he will have to share your light with everyone else. no, you’re a flame in the home’s fireplace, warm and inviting to anyone who’s welcomed into your humble abode but lost to everyone else.

“you say that now. let’s see what happens when i show up with two kids instead of one.”

present

the memory makes you chuckle. sometimes you wonder if he knew megumi had a sister because when he did show up with two kids instead of a promised one, you swore he looked as smug as ever.

as the time went on, spreading yourself thin between going to university (you said you wanted to finish your degree in case your career as a sorcerer doesn’t work out), helping out geto and gojo on their missions when they asked you, and helping take care of both suguru’s girls and fushiguro siblings was proving to be too much. so satoru, for all his seemingly unlimited resources, decided that buying a house and living all together will be better. you knew that it was easier to move a mountain than change gojo’s mind once it’s been set on something so you didn’t argue. to no one’s surprise, living together for all of you came as naturally as breathing. who said a family cannot be three barely functioning not-even-yet adults and their four adopted children?

the familiar silhouette of home comes into view, and you sigh with relief. when the cab stops, you pay the driver, grabbing your things and rushing our the car. it’s the moments like this you envy satoru’s teleportation ability though you will never admit it to him out loud, lest you inflate his ego even more. you’re barely able to step away from the gates when the front door to the house swings open and you see the person you were just thinking about poking his head out.

“need a hand?”

gojo is as cheerful as ever, and you cannot help but smile back, lips stretching in that tired way he finds almost domestic, and he feels something prick inside him. not now. you want to say something back, but you’re interrupted by the sound of little footsteps running past satoru, towards you.

“you’re back, you’re back!” nanako and mimiko are the first rushing to greet you, with tsumiki hot on their tail. you see megumi standing in the doorframe trying to pat away satoru’s hand resting on top of his head as he comes out to greet you as well.

“oh my god, ‘toru, what are they still doing up, it’s past 12am!” you redirect your attention to the kids instead. “what are you little rascals still doing up, uh? just because you don’t have school tomorrow doesn’t mean you don’t have a sleeping schedule anymore!”

“gojo-san and geto-san said we can stay up today!”

“3 years later and you’re still the only one they call by your first name,” you hear suguru before you can see him: he is standing on the opposite side of megumi, letting the kid hide behind his leg to get away from gojo’s assault on his hair. you smile at them and decide there is no point of staying mad at them any longer.

the men help you to bring your bags inside, and you collapse on the couch as soon as you pass the threshold of your home.

“how was your trip?” megumi asks as he slowly crawls to sit on your right side. out of all the kids, megumi was the hardest to read – for a child his age, he was overly perceptive and did feel almost like an adult at times. what did satoru call him? a child-man, that’s right.

“it was good, ‘gumi. ‘m just tired now. how was your weekend? i saw someone took you to disneyworld when i was asking for it the whole time,” you said, raising your voice at the later part of the sentence so it can reach gojo and geto’s ears from where they were in the kitchen. you could only hear a light chuckle back.

“it was so fun! mimiko was scared of the ride we went on, but i was so brave!” nanako’s eyes twinkled with so much joy, you really wish you witnessed the moment yourself. satoru was right all those years ago, you were a mother hen back then, you’re a mother hen now.

“no, i wasn’t! tsumiki was scared more!”

“why are you lying? no, i wasn’t!”

“ay, ay! i’m sure all of you were equally brave. now, can you tell me why you stayed up this late?” you finally sit everyone down, satoru and suguru joining you with freshly brewed tea, and think this is the most at peace you’ve ever felt.

“we were waiting for you…” tsumiki shyly confesses on behalf of everyone.

“oh,” your vision gets blurry and you feel pearly beads of tears pool in the corner of your eyes before quickly blinking them away.

“ughhh, you cute little puppies, i just want to eat you up,” you say before anyone can question your tears and pull all of the kids into a bear hug. time is late, however, so you make a quick work of tucking everyone into bed now that they’ve seen you. you say your goodnights and leave their rooms.

“do we not get a hug now?” satoru asks, wearing his signature smirk, and you want to clap back with a retort of your own, chastise them for letting the kids eat cake for dinner and stay up past midnight, or remind them that they are not seven years old anymore; but the car trip and the memories you revisited bring out something nostalgic in you making you slowly walk up to satoru and hug him instead. he is taken aback at first but gojo has always been good at recovering from momentary stupor so he’s pulling you back into a hug in no time.

“you two are rude,” comes from suguru’s side and as soon as you’re untangling yourself from gojo, you’re walking up to the raven-haired sorcerer to do the same.

“i missed you two idiots.”

“we missed you too.”

the silence stretches across the room but it’s comforting and inviting, like an old friend who hasn’t visited in a while, enveloping the three of you in its embrace. you look at the clock on the wall, showing you 1:05am, and suddenly your whole body feels heavy.

“sorry guys, i think the trip is finally showing its signs… i am so tired, don’t even have energy to take a shower,” you say and groan in disgust. you hate going to bed without washing the grime of the day off your body but the fatigue is clinging onto your skin like humid air. “i’m going to bed now, see you guys tomorrow.”

“good night.”

“sleep well.”

and if you paid closer attention, you would’ve noticed the deep seated longing in the men’s gazes, the one that you sometimes have to hide from them too; you would’ve noticed how suguru’s hand is following yours long after you’re out of their sight, and how satoru’s tongue darted out to wet his lips when you were pressed against him, even if for a second; you would’ve noticed that the feelings you’ve been trying to push deep down for your two best friends are reflected all the same somewhere in the constellation of their eyes.

next morning you wake up as a result of someone laughing your name and jumping on your bed. sunlight is peaking through the curtains, making sun bunnies dance on the walls of your room and kiss your cheeks. you try to open your eyes but your head feels heavy like you’ve just fallen asleep and you struggle to make out your surroundings – feeling disoriented first thing in the morning is definitely your least favorite thing. you groan softly and finally force yourself to lift your eyelids – as you do so, you’re met with two little girls using your bed as a make-shift trampoline.

“wake up! wake up! gojo-san and geto-san told us we will be leaving to go to the sea in an hour!” and they swiftly left, just as quickly as they had come in, leaving you to stare up at the ceiling in confusion.

“uh?”

once the words really settled in, you’re getting up from the bed in record time and putting on the first clothes you lay your eyes on. you find the strongest duo already up and ready. all of the kids, worryingly, also look like they are ready to leave the house, and there are bags near the door with both satoru and suguru looking too smug not to be suspicious about it.

“what is going on here?” you ask from the doorway that connects the hallway leading to your rooms to the kitchen. “why am i hearing that we’re going to the sea, and why are you dressed like this?”

“well,” satoru starts, “because we are going to the sea so we’re wearing appropriate clothing. you’re the only one who’s still not dressed.

you close your eyes and massage the bridge of your nose. mentally you douse whatever feelings you were having for these idiots yesterday.

“why am i hearing about this only now?”

“surprise?..”

“i know it’s last minute, but satoru made a promise to drive so you can relax in the car while we’re on the way there. just get ready and we can leave right after,” suguru says from his place on the couch, and you cannot help but sigh deeply and return to your room to shower and quickly pack.

when you’re out of earshot, geto shoots gojo a look.

“what are you planning, satoru?”

“why would i be planning anything? she’s been really stressed recently, and then the higher ups have the audacity to send her away for a whole weekend and give you a mission that took your whole sunday at the same time she was sent away. i was overworked the week before that. sometimes it feels like they are doing this on purpose. so maybe we should all disappear for a couple of days with no way of contacting us, maybe they’ll stop pestering us like we’re the only sorcerers available.”

“very mature of you, ‘toru.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

the two of them finish packing the last of the food that gojo bought in the morning while waiting for you. reserving a spot this late in one of the most popular vacation spots in japan was hard, but nothing is impossible when you’re satoru gojo.

you’re ready in record time, and the kids are all yelling and arguing about who is going to sit where. you need to intervene and say you will be sitting in the back of suv with nanako and mimiko, while mugumi and tsumiki agreed to sit in the middle row; suguru is riding shotgun and satoru has agreed to be your driver for the ride. unsurprisingly, not even an hour out of the city, the car is filled with snoring as the kids fell asleep shortly after you started driving. you feel yourself getting drowsy, closing your eyes and swearing you will only sleep for a moment. however, the next time you open them, you’re informed by suguru that all of you are already halfway through the trip.

“oh my god, i can’t believe i slept for that long,” you mumble through a voice heavy with drowsiness. “i think it’s best if we stop somewhere now, i’ll wake the kids up so they can eat quickly and pee. i suggest we all do it.”

“yeah, i think it would be best, i don’t know if we will have the opportunity to stop any time soon,” satoru agrees with you, and the drive continues for 20 more minutes until you’re stopping at the gas station. you gently wake the kids up and let them know that they need to have a snack and go to the restroom (time is 11:20am and they should be able to fall asleep again with no issues after that).

“how much longer do you think we have to drive?” you ask satoru as he is refilling the gas tank. you’re watching suguru watch the kids where they are running around nearby.

“maybe 2.5-3 hours, depending on the traffic.”

“did something happen during the weekend?”

“no, why would you ask?”

“hm…” you quickly hum, “this is all too sudden for it to be spontaneous.”

“oh, common, don’t be like that. i just think the little family of ours needs a mini vacation, that is all.”

as soon as the words leave his mouth, gojo can feel the blush creeping up all the way to his ears and he clears his throat, walking away. you don’t know what makes you giggle more – the way he admits that whatever it is you have, he also sees it as a family, or the way the confession makes him feel embarrassed. you observe him preparing to get into the driver’s seat – sometimes you wonder what is happening in that handsome head of his. you glance at suguru and wonder if he would have a better guess.

gojo lets you know that you’re good to depart again. the second part of the trip is as chaotic as you would imagine it go and you give up on trying to make kids to go back to sleep. instead, you’re breaking up the fights between almost everyone: nanako and mimiko argue about their friendship bracelets across from you; you keep having to remind gojo that he is indeed an adult in this situation while he wants to continue arguing with megumi; and suguru somehow breaks the AC so the last 30 minutes of the drive everyone is suffering in silence.

once you finally pull up to the little vacation house gojo somehow procured at the last moment, you’re already feeling at your limit: you need the sun and to dive into warm water before you start losing your hair.

geto helps you with the bags while gojo unloads everything into the kitchen – you’re not sure how long you’re staying here for but the amount of food they brought will last you a nuclear winter. the children are excited about their rooms, and you must keep reminding them to be careful and to not run into any corners despite their enthusiasm. you help them unpack and choose outfits for the day – it’s been decided in the car that you will be going to the beach as soon as you’re settled.

everyone is ready in half an hour – you helped the girls get into their swimming suits, while megumi insisted he can do it himself (you suggested geto or gojo help him, but he closed the door in their faces and didn’t come out until he was done). both men were already waiting by the door with the picnic bags and beach essentials – you had to admit they looked a little too good, making a knot twist in your stomach.

satoru was dressed in a simple white button up that matched his hair and a pair of navy swim trunks. maybe he was right, this trip was long overdue for all three of you, as gojo looked more relaxed and at peace than you’ve seen him in a while. his lips were stretch into a lazy smile and his eyes, unobstructed by the glasses or a blindfold, had a glint of mischief that reminded you of a 16 year-old boy you met all those years ago. he tried his best to style his white unruly hair but the surrounding humidity only made it frizzier.

gojo makes it seem almost effortless, with how good he looks, and maybe part of it is true – despite never admitting it out loud, you know he won the genetic lottery when it came to his appearance. but you also know that satoru has an unrelenting skin care routine (because you buy your products together); that he asks what you think about his outfits even though you keep repeating you should be the last person he asks for fashion advice (don’t worry about it, princess, your opinion is the only one that matters anyways and you hate how your heart clenches at these words); and that he spends 45 minutes taking his showers. but what gojo doesn’t know is that you adore him the most first thing in the morning – eyes so sleepy he can barely keep them open, voice gruff and low asking what’s for breakfast, wearing his sleeping gray sweatpants and nothing else. and he will never know lest you want to ruin everything you’ve worked so hard to build between the three of you.

you moved your eyes away from gojo to where suguru was leaning on the door. he was wearing a blue hawaiian shirt with the three top buttons popped off, paired with simple black swimming shorts. his hair was put into a perfect manbun, however, unrelenting bangs always make themselves known untangled from the rest of his locks. you noticed it back when you were teenagers and got used to carrying bobby pins for him – he somehow always leaves them at home (you will never admit but you love the fact that he always forgets them – it gives you another reason to run your fingers through his hair) – and this habit stayed with you all the way into adulthood. while satoru was handsome in a regal way, suguru was all sharp edges that made him look almost dangerous – pronounced jaw, pointy nose, almost cat-like eyes; the kind of beauty that always makes you weak in the knees.

“see something you like?” satoru’s voice takes you out of your daydream and, shamefully, you realize you’ve been standing in the corridor doorway, gawking at them like it’s your first time seeing their faces. you only groan in response and roll your eyes, trying to hide the blush that adores your neck and flushes your cheeks red.

“if i saw something i like, i would’ve told you,” and you stick your tongue out. liar.

“are you feeling well? you look a little red, maybe you got a fever?” comes from suguru’s side now as he tries to reach for your forehead but you swat his hand away.

“ugh, i hate both of you.” liar. they only laugh when you rush past them, megumi and nanako on either side of you holding your hands while tsumiki sits on satoru’s shoulders and mimiko takes her rightful place on suguru’s back.

“whatever you say, sweetheart.”

the way to the beach is short and sweet, your attention is fully dedicated to megumi and nanako as they re-tell you the stories from their weekend. ‘gumi won a plushy and gave it to mimiko because she asked him to play in the first place, and tsumiki, apparently, had the highest score in the game where you punch a bag to see how strong you are. nanako says that helping satoru bake the cheesecake on sunday was her favorite part of the weekend, and you make a mental note to let her help you the next time you do it.

from behind you, geto and gojo observe your interactions with the kids, each of them in their own thoughts, yet both mulling over the same thing – you, letting tsumiki and mimiko chat between themselves.

neither of them thought you would become a constant in their lives when they decided to take in the kids – after all, none of you were in a relationship, despite their feelings for you, and you had no obligations to be giving them so much of your time. but as the time went on, all three of you fell into a comfortable routine that was both a blessing and a curse – they couldn’t confess that the boyish crush they had on you in your teenage years not only endured but blossomed into something so much more. that something kept growing inside their ribcages, weaving and building a home there, rooting itself so deep, they forgot what life was like before you offered them your light.

satoru and suguru only discussed this once between each other. the unspoken feelings they had not only for you but also for each other made already complex situation even more complicated. the fear of damaging the carefully built dynamic between the three of you was overwhelming - so overwhelming in fact, both agreed to never speak of this again. pandora’s box was sealed, and only you behold the power to open it. the strongest duo knows why this little box of wonders needs to be locked far away from them - however, it’s moments like this, when megumi asks to be carried in your hands (even though he’s getting too big for that) while nanako clenches your hand harder and you indulge both of them without a moment’s delay, that make them wish you knew: knew how much suguru adores the little tilt to your head when you’re confused about something, knew how much satoru loves smoothing out the wrinkles on your head when you’re deep in the thought, knew how both of them yearn for your laugh after a long day.

the cute white bikini you’re wearing is definitely not helping the ever-running thoughts two men are trying so hard to push down. it’s not the first time the absolute indecency of their desire is sparked by the slight bounce of your tits and the swing of your hips. memories of countless times they had to take an extra shower in the morning because you would show up in the kitchen in one of their shirts, without a bra, nipples hard and visible through a thin fabric, should make them feel embarrassed, yet the shame never comes. when did the longing for you start feeling so right?

as the years progressed, this dance the three of you did around each other became familiar, and none of you dared to switch the melody.

sometimes you wish you were brave enough to do it.

“look, look, we’re finally here!” mimiko yells from suguru’s back and then instructs him to put her down. nanako lets go of your hand as tsumiki’s climbing down satoru’s shoulders, and three girls run away towards the sea.

“be careful! you still need to put your sunscreen, don’t run away too far!” you move your attention to the little boy you released from your hold as you entered the beach, “‘gumi, you’re not going with them?”

you wiggle his arm back and forth (his hand is so tight in yours, gripping now harder than before) but he refuses to look at you so you don’t push.

“did you forget he doesn’t know how to swim?” satoru says from behind you, and you shoot him a look. god, was he purposefully trying to rile megumi? fushiguro only digs his fingers further into your hand, and you honestly want to bite satoru’s head off.

“that’s okay, baby, i’m sure your dad needed support of his whole clan when he was trying to learn how to swim.”

“he is not my dad.”

your brain goes blank for a second, and you hope satoru did not hear what you just said (he did; but he thinks he’ll spare you the further embarrassment; he also doesn’t want to admit that it makes his stomach turn in a way he wish it wouldn’t).

“you’re right, dummy like him could never be your dad.”

you find the spot not too far from where the girls are playing, and you help geto and gojo set up the blankets and umbrellas. while they are making sure none of it flies away with the first gust of the wind, you search for the sunscreen in your bag.

“girls! come here, we need to put sunscreen on you!”

you hear the tatter of 6 feet rushing towards you, trying to get first in line so they can all get back to playing in the water. you hand satoru and suguru two other tubes you brought.

“help me to put this on them. i think if we don’t do it in the next minute, they will actually explode,” you say, smiling at how impatient tsumiki is being in front of you as she keeps bouncing on her legs. before you start on the sunscreen, you turn her so her back is facing you and let her hair out of the ponytail as you try to retie it. she winces a bit and lets out a small ouch.

“’m sorry baby, didn’t meant to hurt you, you okay?” you ask as you rub on the roots of her hair.

“yeah, i’m okay!” she exclaims loudly, making you giggle. once her bun is all set in place, you quickly put the sunscreen on her whole body, finishing with the face, and boop her nose. tsumiki scrunches it in her adorable way, and you feel your heart swell with joy and love.

once the girls run off again, suguru comes up to you with the tube of sunscreen in hands.

“don’t you think you need a little help too?”

the smile adorning his face is so sweet, he doesn’t realize the summersaults it’s making your heart to do. and when you think about those hands on your shoulders, on your back, going lower where you want them most, you realize you actually might be burning up. but you can’t come up with an excuse fast enough not to let him do it so, without any words lest you’ll be embarrassing yourself, you just turn around and present him your back.

geto start slowly with your shoulders, squeezing the tube and spreading the sunscreen on your soft skin. you swear you can hear him sharply inhale, and your heart involuntarily skips a beat. you let yourself wonder, just for a second, how these hands would feel on the parts of your body where you want them most, if geto would be as gentle squeezing your breasts and tugging at your nipples. and when his hands start travelling lower, caressing the space between your shoulder blades and running his fingers down your spine, you wonder if his long digits would reach the spot inside your gummy walls that you’re unable to find yourself. you absolutely lose yourself to the indecent thoughts when he starts massaging the sunscreen into your lower back. that man, you think, if only he knew what he was doing. it takes all of your willpower to prevent yourself from moaning out loud and not tremble at his mere touch. you want to lean back and tilt your head to the side so geto can leave a trail of wet kisses on the side of your neck, following the curve of it to your jaw, and capture your lips in a way that only lovers can.

you can feel your skin grow hot and your white bikini better not show how embarrassingly wet you got from your best friend’s touch. you’re so sick, you think to yourself and before it becomes any worse, you’re untangling yourself from suguru’s arms and call out for megumi.

“i… uh… will go swim with him, don’t want him to get bored,” you breathlessly whisper as if too afraid to speak any louder, and call out to the boy.

“‘gumi, common! grab your floaties and we’ll go play a little further away from the girls,” you wait for him to grab his stuff, and you notice one of his rare smiles – he never hid the fact that you were his favorite out of three adults, and he always feels a little smug when your undivided attention is on him. satoru shoots him a knowing look which megumi successfully ignores, clinging to you.

you pass the girls as you show them the direction you’re taking megumi in and they all say “okay!” at the same time like it’s rehearsed. mimiko, nanako and tsumiki are in a competition to see who can gather the most seashells and are left under the attentive gaze of gojo and geto. you help megumi put his floaties on and gather him into your arms so you can walk a little deeper: once you’re satisfied with the distance, you try to let him go but he is attached to you like a baby koala.

“common ‘gumi, i promise i won’t let you go, okay? i’ll be right here in case you need help, and i’ll be also holding onto you the whole time.”

fushiguro only violently shakes his head, not wanting to be in the water by himself. you wonder where this fear comes from and think you’ll have to revisit it later. you don’t push any further, and hug him closer, running a smoothing hand on his back while he puts his head on your shoulder. you squat a little to help him get adjusted to the temperature, and he shrieks from the sudden rush of water above his waist while hugging you tighter, almost choking you. laughter bubbles in your throat but you don’t want to make megumi feel worse than he already does so you try your best not to let it out.

“hey, baby, it’s okay. i am holding you, yeah?” and as you say that, you try to push him away from you one more time, to let him experience the ocean by himself but he only tightens his hold as a sign he is not moving away. so you resign to gently swaying with him in the water, letting the salty waves wash around you. you can feel the sunlight dancing on your skin, warm breeze carrying all your worries away, if just for a moment, and you close your eyes allowing yourself to take all of it in. megumi’s head is pleasantly heavy on your shoulder, and you walk little bit further away from the beach until you bump into someone.

“oh, i am so sorry!” you instantly apologize and turn around. what you don’t expect is to be met with the pair of the most beautiful green eyes you see (your mind involuntarily goes to gojo and how even these emerald eyes pale to comparison to the infinity carried by his gaze). you think if your heart didn’t belong to the two most annoying human beings you’ve ever had a pleasure of encountering, you would’ve fallen head over hills right here, right now.

“please, no need to apologize.”

surprise number two: this stranger is not only handsome, but also has a voice that makes you want to do whatever he asks you to, as long as he keeps talking to you. and again, you think how unfortunate of you to fall in love with two people you can’t have when men like this walk around for free.

he smiles when his attention falls to megumi - little boy appears not to be happy with this encounter. who does this man thinks he is? maybe megumi didn’t want to learn how to swim, it doesn’t mean that he is willing to share you when he just got you away from two men on the beach (he is not old enough to rationalize that what he is feeling is jealousy; you never noticed but, geto and gojo excluded, he never liked how other men talk to you in the first place).

a handsome stranger doesn’t seem taken aback by the attitude from megumi, and for a seven-year-old, your little boy has a mean death stare.

“he is very cute, what is his name?”

“he’s megumi,” you give him your name as well and extend the arm for introduction. before a man can even respond, megumi is tugging your arm away and whines, speaking loud enough for satoru and suguru to hear, who, unbeknownst to you, have been watching the interaction this whole time (spoiler – they are not very happy about it but proud of the kid, truly an oscar-worthy performance).

“mommy, i want to learn how to swim now!”

you think you heard him wrong – he has never called you this before. if it happened any other time, you think you would’ve cried tears of happiness. now it only makes you feel stupor. how does he even know to call you mommy in this situation? megumi has always been the most well-behaved one out of all four kids, the disbelief at his attitude is written all over your face. what is he playing at?

“oh, i’m sorry, i didn’t realize he was your kid,” the man says but hurries to add, “i adore children though; i work at a pre-school. hi megumi, my name is rei.”

the boy looks at the outstretched hand the man offered like it personally offended him. all of a sudden, he points to the beach where satoru and suguru seat and announces, yet again loud enough for them to hear.

“my daddies are just right there!”

what happened to “he’s not my dad?” you think in panic.

you’re not sure if gojo and geto can hear the full conversation, but they wave back at you anyways. rei moves his gaze from you to megumi to two men on the beach, trying to decide if he should believe it or not. you, on the other hand, are speechless and currently wishing someone would be kind enough to curse you right now, or for the ground to split and swallow you whole with how hot and embarrassed you feel. megumi is so grounded today. you can feel the inner temperature rise to the inappropriate levels, feeling like a kettle that is about to overheat – you don’t wait for rei’s response while saying awkward “bye, nice meeting you!” and rushing away.

“welcome back, mommy,” satoru teases when you settle back at your spot. megumi is sitting on the opposite side of you, munching on the watermelon like he didn’t just make an absolute fool out of you in front of a random man. you try your best to ignore satoru, but his comment only makes you groan, sound almost bordering a sob.

“please, for the love of everything holy, don’t say another word. i bet it was you who put this idea into his head.”

“you know as well as we do that you can’t make megumi do anything he doesn’t want to,” gojo responds with the knowing smirk, and you only sink into yourself further. your face is burning up, and now you think it’s not because megumi’s whole afternoon mission was apparently to embarrass you in front of a stranger but because of what he said. the shock of the moment is finally dissipating, instead giving the space to indescribable tenderness. you will have to cry about it later on your own so to save yourself further shame, you hide your face behind your hat and lay down, contemplating how this one simple word somehow turned all of your insides upside down.

what you fail to notice is the proud smile satoru shoots to megumi, mouthing “good job” and suguru passing him his favorite candy knowing he’s not allowed to eat it before dinner.

you feel absolutely drained. after the incident with megumi, you stayed in the same position until the kids started complaining that they were hungry. the sun is getting low, painting the skies ochre and pink, giving everyone its glowing kiss. you dare to peek at satoru and suguru, and they looked almost ethereal – sunshine dancing on satoru’s white eyelashes as he dries tsumiki with a towel and nodding enthusiastically at the collection of shells she is showing him, while suguru tries to untie nanako’s wet hair so he can wrap a towel around it. mimiko slowly drags her legs towards you, poor girl absolutely exhausted, and as soon as you open your arms to embrace her with a towel of her own, she plops against you and almost momentarily falls asleep.

suguru offers to carry her home, but you wave him off, asking to grab megumi’s hand instead.

“i am not cooking once we get home, we better buy food now or we can drive into the city.”

“ugh, i don’t think i have the strength to drive,” satoru whines like he is the youngest out of the bunch. “let’s just buy something here, it smells pretty good.”

suguru only hums in agreement, listening to nanako and tsumiki argue about who got the most shells (both fail to count their shells correctly), and with that, your dinner plans are decided with satoru ordering your food from the stall nearby.

“what do we say when someone gets you food?”

“thank you, gojo-san!” three little voices echo each other, and you’re surprised even megumi joined in. the way back home is quick as you’re standing in front of your door in no time.

“oh my god, my legs are killing me,” you complain as you pass the threshold of the house. mimiko has been sleeping in your arms the whole way back, and you don’t know if you should wake her up and ask her to eat, or if you should just let her sleep. you can still smell the ocean on her skin, and you decide it’s best for her hygiene and your peace of mind that she is clean before she goes to bed too so with a heavy heart, you’re gently shaking her awake once you sit down on the couch.

“hey sweetie, we’re home. let’s eat, bathe and then i’ll put you back to bed, yeah?” her eyes are unfocused as she opens them, and she’s letting out a long yawn before slowly nodding her head and getting up.

“okay, everyone, go wash your hands, dinner will be ready soon,” suguru says from where he already stands in the kitchen, and all four pairs of legs excitedly hurry away.

“i hope the adventure today is enough to put them all to sleep right away,” you wistfully say.

“with their tummies full, i’m sure they will pass out in no time,” suguru says back while satoru circles around him to grab the plates from the overhead cupboards. you want to get up and help but looking at them like this, all domestic and familiar, the side of the strongest sorcerers only you get to see, makes you stall for a second to appreciate this moment for a little longer. the dull ache in your chest starts throbbing again as if someone’s picking at the rough edges that never seem to fully heal, and you wonder if you could have it all if you were a little more selfish. you shake your head banishing all unnecessary thoughts from your head.

the dinner is eaten quickly, everyone so hungry, you barely exchange any words. you can see the children are struggling to keep their eyes open, tsumiki almost falling face first into the plate, so you make a quick work of their unfinished dinner and hurry them into a bathtub. megumi insists he is old enough to take a bath separately from the girls so you ask either satoru or suguru to help him (megumi makes it known who he prefers by grabbing suguru’s hand and dragging him to the second bathroom). bath time is also surprisingly quiet, low energy in the room being an indicator of just how exhausted everyone is.

with the kids finally tucked into bed (megumi apologized for misbehaving, and you think about how far you’ve come with the boy who wouldn’t utter a full sentence to you for the first 6 months), you grab the beer from the fridge and make your way onto the patio where satoru and suguru are already engaged in conversation.

they turn their heads toward you once you step outside and offer you the space between them which you gladly take. you can see suguru is nursing his own beer, while satoru opted out for a bottle of virgin mojito.

“did neither of you really ask megumi to call me “mommy” today?” you wonder out loud as you’re looking out into the horizon, where the last rays of sun melt into the ocean, clearing the canvas for the stars to spark to life.

“nah, you know how stubborn that kid is,” satoru drawls as he takes another sip of the drink; you scrunch your nose just imagining how sweet that concoction is but smile, nonetheless. “plus, it was nice being called a dad.”

both you and suguru turn to look at him, but he stubbornly keeps staring forward. you snort, seeing geto’s smile in your peripheral vision, but there is no malice behind your action. both you and suguru always knew that gojo cared in the same capacity as the two of you for the kids, he was just a little more stubborn about admitting it. you can see it in the way he handles them after they wake up from nightmares (because he knows the same thing haunts him), how he packs them lunches to school when neither you or suguru are able to do it (i know i am not as great of a cook as those two but it’s better than buying stuff from the store), how he allows them to have sweets from his secret stash when everyone else (even you and geto) are not permitted to even think about it. the two of you always knew how much he cared – satoru just needed a little push to say it out loud.

you’re about to say something witty but suguru speaks up first.

“would you have continued flirting with that man if it wasn’t for megumi?”

“flirting? i wasn’t flirting with him!”

“whatever, talking,” geto waves a hand at you like it’s all unimportant details. “would you?”

the air suddenly feels charged with electricity, years of longing and yearning threaten to rip everything at the seams. you tried so hard to move past them, move past your silly little crush, failing miserably. not that dating other people was an option for you anyways – you are sure anyone, upon hearing that you take care of four small children at only age 21, will run away in the opposite direction. it’s a good thing it didn’t matter to you either way – the kids became an integral part of your life, and you would not give them up for anything. but sometimes, just sometimes, when the loneliness creeps into the parts of your bones that have no space for it, when the heart becomes a little too big for your own chest trying to escape through rushed beats, when you tremble from how longing encompasses your whole being, you wonder how it would feel if romantic love was made for you too.

you tilt your head to look at suguru, trying to find something in his face. he doesn’t know why he asked that question – maybe it’s the sun rush of the day, the good mood he’s been in recently or how that man looked at your body – but it felt right. and he knows he’s being selfish without discussing it with satoru beforehand, but he’s so tired of hiding, so tired of pretending like he doesn’t dream of waking up next to your warm bodies, so tired of thinking about what ifs and could haves - asking that question only felt right.

“no, i don’t think i would’ve returned his sentiment,” you simply state and hope that they would leave it at that. you know they never do.

“why?” it’s satoru’s turn in this interrogation, and he looks at you in a way that makes your pulse pick up its pace.

“because…” you don’t know what you’re supposed to say. because you’re in love with your best friends? have been since you were 16 years old? you’ve been carrying the weight of unrequited love for so long now, you think you’re afraid what will happen to the space it occupies if you confess. you hope you know them enough to realize they will not make fun of you for your confession, at most making lighthearted jokes about how they always knew you were not immune to their charms, but your palms are getting sweaty just anticipating their reaction.

“because?” satoru nudges you again, and you dare to steal a glance into his baby blues. satoru’s eyes have been compared to the most prized sapphires, an ocean that will never be fully explored, the skies that are bigger than life itself – all the metaphors that describe him to the outside world perfectly. however for you, his eyes are the color of blueberries that he painstakingly picks out of tsumiki’s desserts and gives to megumi; they are the color of his favorite shirt that is more gray now than blue with how much he washed it but refuses to throw away; it’s the blue ribbons he picked out for nanako’s and mimiko’s hair for their first day of school. you look into his eyes and see a sparkle of something familiar, something you’ve seen in your eyes times and times before, staring back from the reflection in the mirror.

unexpectedly, you feel dizzy and don’t know if it’s the summer breeze that makes your head feel heavy, the alcohol swimming in your veins, or the present company, but you’re brought back to when you were all 16 and innocent, to the moment before the steady ground was violently ripped from right underneath your feet. you think about amanai and that she still loved and cared despite knowing how all of it would end for her. you think about haibara, and how he was full of promise and life and so, so much love, you almost feel sick again.

you’re quiet as you contemplate, and the men don’t interrupt your train of thoughts. memories flash before your eyes like snapshots of old cameras, making them wonder where you have gone off to.

but then you think about how it ended, for the both of your friends, in blood and violence and guilt, their life threads cut short before either of them knew what life even is. amanai and haibara didn’t get enough time to figure it all out: have they loved anyone the way you love satoru and suguru? would have they have had time to figure it out if it was a fair world?

you can feel your best friends’ body heat wrap around you, encapsulating you in their scent and presence, and you decide you’d like to stay like this forever. you think about everyone who didn’t get to spend another hour with someone they love, and you realize you’d regret it your whole life if something happens and they didn’t know how they make you feel. and with the life you lead, something can happen at any moment. you steady your hands and take a deep breath, reading yourself. now or never.

“because i am in love with you two, and i have been since we were 16.”

you close your eyes, waiting for the laugh to come, for them to say oh, you little silly girl, to chastise you for falling for the only two people that will never be yours. you wait and wait but nothing comes. instead, you feel someone’s knuckles brushing lightly against yours and gasp, opening your eyes. what you didn’t expect to see is your two best friends looking at you as if they are seeing you for the first time, their lips stretch in smiles so wide, it looks like it’s supposed to hurt. and eyes, their eyes, say so much without them needing to say anything at all.

“so… what you’re saying is that we’ve been blue balling each other since we were 16?”

“ohmygodsatorupleasestop,” words leave your mouth all jumbled up, you’re sure they didn’t understand what you said. gojo might be a little crude but the meaning behind his childish metaphor is not lost on you – three of you have been oblivious to each other’s feelings for five years now, and a pang of regret shoots through you. how different would everything be if you were brave enough to confess all those years ago?

“have both of you really known since you were 16?”

“yes.”

both of them say it with such conviction, you feel yourself get lightheaded. you don’t want to cry but tears are pooling in your eyes involuntarily, and you sniff a little into satoru’s shoulder.

“aw, why are you crying? i thought we all finally agreed to be happy,” suguru coos at you from the side. the warmth of your hand in his still feels unreal – like it’s someone else’s arm attached to him, and he‘s just observing as a passer-by. he brushes your knuckles with the pads of his fingers and it feels right, how your digits perfectly intervene with his and how your head fits just right into the crook of satoru’s neck, and how your lips look so perfectly kissable and shiny right now. but he doesn’t want to rush the fragility of the moment, so he only squeezes your hand tighter.

“because we could’ve had this all this time… if we were just a little braver.”

“don’t you think we are already brave enough, all the time?” satoru asks this time. “maybe it’s okay for us to be a little cowardly, even if it’s not entirely good for us. we have next memory to look forward to anyways.” gojo lifts your head and looks into your teary eyes – you’re so beautiful, it almost hurts. he let his daydreams to be full of you and your lips and your touch, that it takes everything in him not to cross the distance in a searing kiss. but he knows it’s not the right moment, so he just swipes your tears away and kisses you on the forehead. behind you, you can feel suguru’s lips gently touch your exposed shoulder.

and just like that, all worries dissipate like sand through the cracks between fingers. what is the point of worrying about the past when you have future full of love in front of you? you don’t know what tomorrow holds for three of you with your souls now bare for each other, but you have the time to discover it together. for now, you’re content with this moment, salty ocean breeze dancing on your skin, the warmth of suguru’s palm in yours and satoru’s shoulder lulling you to sleep, and you think that maybe you’ve always meant to end up here, between them.

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nolita-fairytale · 10 months

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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: leaving your old life behind, you move to copenhagen to follow your dream of opening a restaurant. almost a year after opening, luca's quest for inspiration brings him right to your doorstep.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 2500

a/n: remember when i said we'd get pastry chef luca fanfic whether we liked it or not? well, it seems i can't be normal about anything bc i have an outline of (potentially) 10 chapters right now based on this headcanon. while i try to keep reader characters pretty neutral so that you can picture yourself, i have this reader creating food from her own life experiences/cultures so do what you will with that. also, i tagged some peeps from my headcanon post, but please let me know if you'd like to be removed.

masterlist | part two

He’s in search of inspiration when he finds the restaurant – your restaurant.

It’s an American stagiaire and a single conversation that makes him realize that he’s missing something – that he’s been in need of something fresh, a new perspective– setting him on his quest.

The best things are inspired.

Luca stares at a blank piece of paper for what feels like hours, writing a few things down, sketching up an idea, before viciously crossing them out, hopelessly stuck on new ideas for the new menu. After a few half-baked ideas that go nowhere, It occurs to him that he may be in need of a little inspiration himself. He can’t think of the last time he’s taken his own advice, mulling over the carefully-chosen words of wisdom imparted to Marcus a couple of weeks ago, and he’s determined to change that.

A review in the paper, an old colleague’s recent trip there, and a glowing recommendation from a close friend are what bring him to the restaurant.

He’s not sure what to expect – having forgone any interest in cuisine described with the words trendy or fusion a long time ago – but Luca reminds himself that it’s the writer’s word choice, not the chef’s, when writing the article.

When Luca steps into the small home-turned-restaurant, he’s immediately inundated with a warmth, a homeyness, that takes him by surprise. From the open kitchen, to the golden lighting, it feels vastly different from the classic Danish-style, fine dining establishments that have swept the country.

But Luca reminds himself that the announcement of noma’s 2024 closure, has shifted the conversation around dining culture in Denmark, and already, he can feel that this is the breath of fresh air that he’s been looking for.

Luca’s seated quickly with care and hospitality by a highly-attentive host, which he only assumes is a symptom of the fact that he read somewhere that you’re an American. While Danish, the host is boisterous, as if he’s known Luca since childhood. Luca smiles politely in response, graciously thanking the man and his chocolate brown curls.

The menu is small, indicating that each dish receives enough care to be excellent and he likes that, despite being described as trendy and fusion-focused, your menu is creative. It’s different. It’s inspired.

He chooses the special of the day: the mapo tofu bolognese – a traditionally Italian concept done from an Asian perspective – and the suggested wine pairing.

It doesn’t take long for him to receive his glass of wine, or his food, and he’s pleasantly surprised by how efficient service seems. Stealing glances through the open kitchen, he watches as you and your sous lead dinner service with a kind of compassionate leadership and playfulness that warms him from the inside out.

“We recommend mixing the whipped tofu into the dish for a creamier sauce. Skal,” his waitress greets, with a warm smile on her face as she sets down the bowl of noodles.

“Cheers,” Luca replies, his eyes savoring every single detail of the dish.

It’s somehow elevated, thoughtful, and elegant, yet comforting all at once.

Luca picks up his fork, using it to collect a little bit of everything – a perfect noodle twirl with just enough sauce, and ground pork before running his fork the whipped topping – raising the fork to his lips for his first bite.

As the flavors hit his tongue, he closes his eyes, and it’s as if time has stopped, just for a moment.

The wheat noodles are perfectly al dente while the whipped tofu is almost ricotta-like, transforming into a silky smooth addition to the dish, cutting the tingle and heat of the Sichuan chili peppercorn-based sauce.

The corners of his lips turn up as he takes a breath, opening his eyes as he savors the delicate layers of flavors. With a crooked smile on his face, he decides that he’ll most certainly be back next week.

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

You make peace with the fact that tonight is one of those nights – a slow night – as you finish washing your hands. It being a slow night, you’d encouraged your staff to up the hospitality at the pre-shift meeting. Treating guests with the utmost personal touches in an effort to build genuine connections would be the focus of tonight’s slow service. In fact, you and Mathilde, your sous chef, had been running dishes out this evening – something you rarely had the luxury to do.

“You should go say hello,” your sous encourages, nodding towards the dining room through the expansive window of the open kitchen.

“Thought it was your turn,” you reply in a casual tone, paying no attention to who she’s referencing.

“No, I think you should take this one,” Mathilde nudges you, causing you to look up. You shoot her a funny look, your eyes flickering over the mischievous expression she has on her face, to where she’s gestured towards.

“To-?” you begin to ask, before seeing exactly who she’s talking about.

“Ehm. Tall, blonde, and tatted!” she emphasizes in a whisper yell.

You don’t really need the description as you glance over at the dining room, easily spotting the man seated at a two-seater near the front window.

“You’re right. He’s become a bit of a regular,” you agree with a curt nod that means all business, no pleasure, as you move a few things as you walk and talk around the kitchen, tidying up.

“That’s not what I meant,” she scoffs with a playful eye roll.

“You know, Jesper thought he was Swedish because… look at him… but he’s apparently a Brit,” she gossips with you, her eyes stealing a glance his way. “We’re slow tonight. He’s here every week. Sure he’d appreciate a direct thank you from the chef!”

“I-,” you hesitate, wondering why she’s so damn insistent on this. “... yeah, alright. I’ll go.”

“That’s my girl!” Mathilde cheers, in a sing-song voice, she hands you the beautifully plated bowl of pasta to take out to the dining room.

As you walk over towards his table, you make a note that it seems as if the mystery man has made this a bit of a routine. He shows every Saturday at exactly 7 pm, week after week, for the past month or so, as if it’s a standing date he has with himself. After his first visit, you half-expected him to bring a date when he returned, or bring a group of friends, or for something different to happen.

But it hadn’t and you’ve watched him come in, week after week, with a different book each time. He always orders the special of the day and whatever suggested wine pairing Jesper’s recommended that week.

Most Saturday nights you're busy leading a kitchen or cooking on the line – having little to no time to fixate or wonder curiously over your weekly diner – but tonight’s pace affords you the luxury to spend more time at the front of house. Truthfully, you know it’s the thing that sets you apart. Sure, the hospitality here in Copenhagen is excellent, but you bring an American hospitality-style to this restaurant – and above and beyond mentality – that feels welcoming, personal, even, as if your restaurant itself is just an extension of your home.

You’ve heard your staff – front of house and back of house – whispering about him, all seemingly enamored and enchanted by the charming Brit. All any of you knew about him was that his name was Luca and that he’s always more than kind to your front of house staff.

He doesn’t say much when he comes in, you’ve noticed, but every Saturday at 7 pm, he’s pushing his way through the front door with punctuality and a gentle ease.

The whisperings from your staff had all revolved around who your mysterious regular must be: whether he was Danish or Swedish, that someone that good looking must already have a partner, that he doesn’t wear a ring.

You hadn’t paid much attention to the gossip (or at least that’s what you’ve told yourself) more focused on running dinner service then trying to piece together the story of your handsome, mysterious regular.

“Hello,” you greet him warmly. “I just wanted to come introduce myself and say thank you for becoming one of our regulars. Your support means a lot to all of us.”

“Hi, I’m Luca.”

You share your name with a smile as he shakes your hand.

Luca turns his attention down to the bowl you’ve put in front of him, his eyes taking in the beautiful presentation hungrily.

“Wow, this looks… incredible,” he marvels, returning his gaze back to you.

“Thank you. I’m sure my front of house already walked you through this but if you’d like for me to-,” you begin.

“Yes, that’d be great, thanks,” he interjects, a crooked smile on his face that makes your heart skip a beat.

You have to pull your attention away from him, hoping he doesn’t notice that you’re quite possibly gawking at him.

He’s kind, charming, and he’s easy on the eyes (easy on the eyes, really being an understatement here).

“Today’s special was inspired by a childhood favorite of mine,” you begin, walking him through each component of the dish.

Crispy Rice. Caramelized marinated trumpet mushrooms and charred broccolini. Your mom’s sauce approached with classic French techniques, courtesy of your sous, Mathilde, a classically French-trained chef.

It’s a marriage of your story. Of the people around you. It’s your heart and theirs, put into a dish.

“You’re the chef?” he asks, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Yes,” you answer, trying your best to get a read on him.

He balks, and you’re unsure of how you’re supposed to respond. Was he surprised that you’re a woman? That he’s been eating your food the whole time and expected a male chef? Before you can overthink it, Luca clarifies with:

“I’m sorry. It’s just-, I can't think of the last time I saw a head chef work front of house, let alone with this much care.”

Oh.

You let down your guard, wondering why you’d assumed the worst when the man’s been nothing but kind to you and your staff so far.

"We're a little short staffed tonight. And I love getting to talk to diners… especially on nights like this,” you explain, trying your best to sound like you hadn’t just assumed that he was a sexist asshole.

He shakes his head in disbelief, looking down at the picturesque bowl, then back to you.

Luca is impressed, and he has no intention of hiding it.

He picks up his wine glass by the stem, raising it to you.

"Cheers,” he says. “And thank you. This is a really beautiful dish.”

“Of course. Enjoy,” you reply, giving him a polite smile, before heading back into the kitchen.

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

“Good service tonight, everybody!” Jesper, your front of house manager, announces while clapping a few times to signal to staff that it’s time for a post shift meeting.

As you all gather in the pristine front of house space. Some of your cooks have taken their aprons off, others haven’t had a moment to unwind from the shift yet – business picking up in the last hour or so of service.

Jesper goes through his nightly wrap-up notes, celebrating the wins of tonight, and making sure to celebrate how everyone rallied to pick up pace when business spiked. He’s gregarious, larger-than-life, the kind of person who can talk to anyone about anything, making him an excellent front of house manager, and even better sommelier. You really lucked out with the twins, you think to yourself – with Jesper and Mathilde – when they were more than eager to work with you on opening this restaurant.

“Oh, and before we go, a client left a gift… table number four,” Jesper says, in reference to Luca’s table. He pulls a tan-colored pastry box from another table, setting it down on a table where everyone can take a look.

“As a thank you. He requested for me to share. So have it and let’s make a note next time he’s in to really treat him like a VIP.”

One of your most-talented servers opens the box, eliciting a chorus of gasps, giggles, and excited whispers as soon as the assortment of croissants and pastries are revealed.

You and Mathilde exchange a look as everyone else busy themselves with unpacking the pastry box. Mathilde raises an eyebrow and you’re not sure what to say. Witnessing your silent exchange, Jesper makes his way over to the both of you, before extending his arm to reveal the card he’s holding.

“And this, my dear…” he begins, exchanging a look with his sister. “...is for you.”

“What do you-, just me?” you ask as you take it, hesitantly.

“I think so, yeah,” he nods, confidently.

To the Chef, the front of the card reads.

“Jesper, let’s check out some of these pastries, yeah?” Mathilde suggests, not so subtly hinting towards her brother.

He nods, giving you a little space so that you can read the card Luca’s left for you.

As your staff divvy up the box of laminated pastries, sighing with joy as they taste the decadent, hand-crafted sweets, you take a few steps away to open the note. His handwriting is pristine – perfectly neat in every way, like he’s written over carefully measured invisible lines.

Chef,

Thank you for all of the great meals. I'd like to return the favor, that is, if you're open to it.

Tomorrow. 5 pm. Dronningens Tværgade 2, 1302

While Luca’s gift has been more-than-generous, you find yourself overwhelmed by questions. Was he a chef too? And why had he not said anything? And what was this gesture all about anyways?

You read the card a few more times, turning the words over in your head as you try to make sense of it.

Mathilde can see your overwhelm, your eyebrows knitted into one confused expression as she saunters back over to you.

“What does it say?” she asks, curiously. “A love confession perhaps?��

“Mathilde, you really have to stop reading all of those French romance novels!” you tease her. “It’s giving you too many ideas.”

“It’s the only way I keep up with my French!” she defends herself with a lackadaisical shrug, earning a laugh from you.

“Uh no… it’s actually a thank you card… only I think he… wants to feed me,” you share with her, holding the card out so that she can take a look.

“He’s a chef too?” she asks, taking the card from your hands.

“I think so, yeah,” you reply, letting out an exasperated laugh.

“Oh shit!” Mathilde exclaims, as soon as she sees the address that Luca’s written down.

“What?” you ask her, wondering if there’s something you missed.

“The address… that’s AOC. I think he’s a chef at AOC, babe,” she gasps, shaking her head as she hands the card back to you, sending a ‘you lucky, bitch’ look your way.

Oh shit, is right.

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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strawberryblue-blog · 4 months

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She's mine too —Mason Mount.

summary: annoying days of pregnancy with mason

warning: none. pregnancy, vomiting, discomfort.

words count: +1.5k

#SEXYNOTE: Merry belated Christmas and early happy new year y'all 💌 thanks for the support, i hope you are well. love youuuu 🩵

You hugged the toilet after spitting up all the dinner of the night between sobs, you sighed taking a big breath of air, feeling your stomach churning again. It was the fifth time you had gotten up to vomit in the night and you were really exhausted. For at least a week you had been feeling this way but in the last two days, it had gotten worse and you couldn't even feed yourself properly as you ended up vomiting.

Did your son or daughter hate you? It was practically thanks to you that he or she was coming into this world, and this is how he or she thanked you? By making you spit out everything you ate? By making you feel so fragile and silly at the same time? You wanted to stay cheerful, positive and full of energy but your baby was slowly consuming you. This was nothing like what you used to hear about pregnancies.

You had never been through anything before and it really scared you. The doctor had said it was normal as long as you had constant checkups and you just had to put up with it, even though it was very hard for you and especially for Mason. Sometimes he felt that what he was doing for you wasn't enough and he hated to see you suffer but it wasn't his fault and it would pass. You sighed whimpering a little, anyone would say you were exaggerating a little (and maybe you were) but you were really suffering. Since four months ago your body had changed, your fears had become constant, dizziness, mood swings, tiredness, breast pain, you had even become irritable. Sometimes you felt guilty but it was inevitable, the baby was running your life (Not really).

But you had no regrets.

Being a mother had been one of your dreams growing up, you used to say you wanted to be like your mother and you really hoped you would be for this child. You were discovering this whole new world and you have to admit you thought it would be something else, at least you had a great man by your side. Mason used to make your endless days, the best experience of your life. He would massage your feet, fulfill your every whim, pamper you and take care of you like you were a princess.

You couldn't complain, you were perfect together and starting a family with him was another one of your biggest dreams. Because you loved everything about him, about the relationship, the respect and love you had. Because you admired how strong and respectable he was and how he behaved with you, your family and friends. Because you were in love with him and that your son had him for a father, it was the biggest pride you could feel.

A hand on your back caressed you, pulling your hair back into a makeshift bun. Mason held your hair and calmed your nerves as he appeared behind you. You hated waking him up in the middle of the night with your retching, especially since you knew he'd have to get up early in the morning but Mason was always with you.

"Don't tease me like that" you laughed exhaustedly after a while. "That's the reason i'm here, puking up everything i ingest."

Mason hid a chuckle behind his smile, trying not to laugh at your funny comment because of the situation you were going through. But it was inevitable, even in misery you were saying funny things to him.

"You suggested doing it, honey. If you had stuck it out, we wouldn't be here," he replied, earning a pout from you.

And it was true. Maybe if they hadn't had too many drinks that night and you hadn't been so horny, nothing would have changed and you wouldn't have found yourself right now. But you wanted this as much as he did, because you were talking about this and about the future, and this was the future, you becoming parents.

After a while without nausea, Mason took you in his arms, slowly carrying you toward the bed. He handed you a glass of water and when you drank some, he helped you lie down on the soft sheets, arranging the pillows on your back to make you comfortable.

"I must look terrible" you whispered a little shaken. Your cheeks were red, your forehead sweaty and you sure looked gross right now. Mason quickly denied.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world" he murmured with his eyes sparkling. "You'll bring our child, you could never look terrible" his fingers caressed your face. A smile appeared on your lips as he kissed your forehead softly.

He took his place beside you, resting his head on your belly as he wrapped his arms around you. One of his hands caressed the protruding bump, which was growing bigger and bigger every day. You didn't know the sex of the baby yet but everything was within the norm for a pregnancy, something you were grateful for, and they were supposed to have news about the baby by the next visit.

"Baby, leave mommy alone for a while, okay? She's mine too" he whispered towards her son or daughter, drawing a smile from you. Your fingers tangled in her hair, stroking her chestnut locks. Your chest overflowed with feelings seeing him there and your heart filled with happiness at the image.

Mason on top of his baby, caressing your skin with his warm fingers, his eyes shining in his wonderful gaze. The reason for your happiness in front of you, your whole world. Your eyes filled with tears and you try not to cry but you were sensitive, everything hit you double, more when it was about your son and your boyfriend.

You were both terrified, you weren't going to lie, but since the test had come back positive and after a few months of waiting, you were ready for what was to come. You had learned to love each other, you had each other, you trusted each other and you were walking on the same side. Everything had been easier, since you knew Mason, you were always supporting and loving each other.

"The boys want it to be a boy to teach him to play football but honestly i want it to be a girl" Mason whispered turning back to your chest, still her hand held on the baby, caressing it.

"Is that what you want?" you asked with a giggle. Mason nodded. "Even Summer would take care of her and teach her" you mentioned and your heart fluttered with love as you imagined your boyfriend's niece with your daughter or son.

Mason smiled hugely.

"I want a boy too, of course. But we'll have time to bring him along after the baby girl" he joked with a grimace. You laughed out loud.

You were excited for the arrival of their son or daughter, they were counting the days since they had found out and memories were piling up in their memories of this special time. The wait was going to be hard but it would definitely be worth it when you had him or her with you.

#football imagines #football one shot #imagine #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount #manchester united

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celtic-crossbow · 1 month

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Those Summer Nights, When I Look in Your Eyes

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (No France) Warnings: Sexual Situations; Vague Smut

Summary: Daryl's childhood had lacked so much and at the beginning of the turn, he had never known love beyond Merle's version of it. Now, he had it all and he would never let them wonder how much he cherished them.

A/N: For @louifaith, I hope this is close to what you imagined for our archer. 🩵 - Also, I have Daryl calling reader "pip" because someone suggested him nicknaming her "pipsqueak" in another story and it has just stuck with me. I was as vague as possible about reader’s age but let me be clear - she is above 18. I don’t write for huge age gaps. I don’t judge those that do and I do read them. I just do not write them but I have no control over where your mind takes you. Anyway, the song he hums is attached. ;)

Life was good.

For thirteen years, there had never been a point in time where Daryl had felt like he could say that and genuinely believe it. For an entire year, the Commonwealth had thrived. Not a single threat. The walls held. The governing unit was fair and compassionate. It really was like the old world.

But not for Daryl.

In the old world, he had been a drifter. A useless drifter walking in the shadow of his brother. No job, no friends, no purpose. And he had, at that time, liked it that way.

Not anymore.

Because now he had a job. He had friends. He had a family. He had a purpose. And he had everything he had lacked growing up. He had love, and not just Merle’s variation of it.

Carol had taken over Lance’s position when Ezekiel and Mercer had stepped up to govern. She had pulled Daryl aside and asked him if he wanted to stay in their reformed force, giving him the choice. His decision was to promptly decline. So they put their heads together to come up with something.

Daryl possessed many skills, most of them learned by doing throughout the years. He had one condition that he would not negotiate on, however.

Daryl’s time outside the walls was over.

He agreed to train hunters to take his place and conceded to three weeks on the road with volunteers that he left up to Carol’s choosing. There was more than enough trust between them for him to be comfortable with who she would deem worthy to provide for the community.

Then he was given the job of overseeing construction and structural upkeep, equipment maintenance, and of course, a seat in the governmental advisory council. He was nothing if not adaptable and took to his position quickly, finding that he liked it. He was respected and his suggestions for the good of the community were heard and considered.

If he chose to hunt or ride, it would be for leisure but he’d hardly needed it in the past year. Domestic life had tamed the inner need to hide or escape that had been ingrained throughout the years even before the turn.

Years ago, you had tumbled into his life. A hot mess that he had spent many a day battling the urge to absolutely throttle. You had a stubborn streak a mile wide that made his own nothing more than a small trail. He absolutely couldn’t stand you.

Funny thing, time.

Now you wore his ring and proudly carried his last name. You had wanted the ceremony, even if his proposal was lackluster. He had been seeking you out after the end of the Whisperers.

“Where’s Y/N?” At first no one answered. He barely parted his lips, intent on asking again with a little more well placed ardor when a woman he recognized as a former Hilltop resident spoke up. “I saw your wife! She’s over with the children!” He muttered his thanks and took a single step before you were finding him. “Daryl!” Your body collided with his, knocking the air from his lungs. His heartbeat lowered regardless, feeling you there in his arms, alive and breathing and whole. “I couldn’t see you in the herd. I was about to come find you but Jude, she made me promise to stay.” “M’here. An’ they’re gone” He tightened his arms around you and rested his cheek on the crown of your head. “So I’m your wife now, huh?” He felt the shift of your facial muscles against his chest, knew you were smiling. “What of it?” He grunted. “Ya wanna be?” He felt his heart skip a few beats when you lifted your head to smile at him, beaming and beautiful. “Of course, I do. Might as well be at this point. We sound like an old married couple.” Daryl snorted and then shrugged. “Then I guess we are.” “That simple?” “That simple.” When you grinned, he knew you would never let it be that simple.

You got your wedding, simple and intimate, with only the few remaining people that were closest to the two of you. When Gabriel said the words, you got your ring, too. Oh, the hell and herds Daryl had gone through to get them. Matching bands, camelot black titanium. Crafted to withstand the way the world was.

He was twisting the ring round and round as he walked home, tired from a full day’s work and more than ready for the weekend with his family: you, Jude, RJ, and his little River. His boy was nearly two years old, the spitting image of Daryl with a heaping dose of your attitude.

You were younger than Daryl, still at an age where pregnancy and giving birth was not considered risky beyond the state the world was in and the lack of some resources. It was horrifying yet the best news he’d ever heard in his self-proclaimed useless life.

River Merle came along right in the midst of the unease in the Commonwealth. When they had taken you and River along with Jude and RJ, it had required all the power Carol possessed to stop Daryl from losing his goddamn mind. He was prepared to rip out entrails with his bare hands and use them to strangle each and every trooper that stood between him and his wife and kids. It was not a good time to support Pamela.

It all worked out in the end when, bruised but alive, the people took back the Commonwealth.

And now, here he was. A husband. A father. A boss. A survivor.

Life. Was. Good.

“Ya home, Pip?” The words habitually rolled off his tongue the moment he opened the door and stepped inside. Jude and RJ were watching a movie, the elder looking over with a hey, Uncle Daryl before turning right back to the television. It was the weekend. No reason to bug them about homework.

“Where else would we be?” You called from the kitchen. Daryl unlaced his boots, was in the middle of pulling off the second one when you came out with River on your hip. “Someone’s cranky today.”

“I ain’t cranky.”

“I’m not talking about you but assuming I was says a lot.” You smiled softly, passing off the baby while simultaneously stealing a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He nearly melted, probably would have if you weren’t situating a small human right against his chest.

“Get a room.” Judith was rolling her eyes when Daryl shot her a harmless look.

River’s little arms went straight around his father’s neck, his little hiccups and sniffles muffled against Dary’s shirt. “S’wrong, lil’ man. Mama houndin’ ya over veggies like she does me an’ RJ?” River pulled back, rubbing his left eye with a chubby fist, looking at Daryl with a scowl that he knew very well adorned his own face more often than not. Even being so content with his life, he couldn’t seem to rid himself of what you called his resting bitch face.

“Daddy.” Was all the boy said before burying his face back into Daryl’s shirt.

“He had a nap?” Daryl was jostling his son as little as possible while ridding himself of his precious vest, tossing it over the back of ‘his’ chair at the dining table. His large hand covered a wide expanse of the small boy’s back when he rubbed soothing little circles, following you into the kitchen. You shook your head and took the lid off the pot on the stove. The scent of meat and herbs wafted toward Daryl and his mouth watered, but first thing was first.

“He wouldn’t go down. I think it’s a daddy day.” You smiled at the sauce but it wasn’t meant for the pasta topping at all. Daddy days were Daryl’s favorite. River wanted absolutely no one but him. The baby would fuss during meals, refuse to nap, and absolutely forget about bath and bedtime unless Daryl was there.

“I got ‘im then. See if I can get ‘im down for a bit.” Daryl was ducking and angling his head to catch River’s attention, finally earning a shy smile when blue met blue and the archer scrunched his nose and stuck out his tongue. Pressing a kiss into the mess of wavy hair, he noticed you standing with your back against the countertop, a certain type of smile on your face.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just sexy.”

“Pfft, stop.”

“We are so playing chess tonight.”

Daryl arched a brow. “Yeah?”

You nodded, your smile morphing into something else entirely; something sinful. “Oh, yeah.”

Dinner done, older kids in their rooms after teeth brushing and goodnight hugs, Daryl sat in the nursery with a sleepy River resting his head on his father’s shoulder while the chair gently rocked. The baby’s hair was only the least bit damp but he smelled of the lavender lotion that you always seemed to have near the changing table, instructing Daryl to use it after baths and before bed because it was calming.

Bathed and in a fresh diaper and pajamas, mini-Daryl was beginning to drift off while his father simply rubbed his back or kissed his cheek or even held a little hand just to count the fingers over and over. Soon enough there would be potty training and pre-school—Carol had said that was still a thing in the world now and yes, they had one in the Commonwealth—so for now, Daryl just wanted to soak it all up, take it all in.

River would likely be the only baby the two of you would have, so not a single second was being wasted or taken for granted. You kept a daily journal of simple things that some might find trivial but Daryl knew he’d be reading that journal often enough to wear the ink right off the pages. Sometimes, he missed things because of work, but in the end, that’s what happened when you were a parent, he supposed. His old man didn’t care about milestones or daddy days, and his mama wasn’t around for bath time or boo-boo kisses. River would have it all. And as long as they were his to care for, so would Judith and RJ. In fact, since the baby had Daryl, you were currently reading a story to Rick and Michonne’s son before bed.

Man, if Rick could see Daryl now. Would his brother even recognize him? God, would his brother even recognize him? He let his mind drift for a moment to Rick and Merle, just long enough to keep them close and then he was back to River, pressing a kiss to a chubby cheek.

You would always rock and sing to the little one but he didn’t need that from Daryl. There was just something about their bond that didn’t require words and hardly even movement. It had been that way since the moment you had pushed him into the world. He had cried, red-faced and angry and cold while Tomi leaned to put him onto your chest. You had your time with him, cuddling and nursing, his little sounds still expressing his discontentment with the change from your warm womb to a loud, bright world.

They had Daryl take off his shirt, which he didn’t understand until you explained better than any doctor or nurse could. The moment River was pressed against his skin, the connection was apparent to anyone who saw. The baby went silent, wide eyes mirroring the ones Daryl himself had. He had felt guilty for the longest time that River wanted you to feed him and then he wanted his daddy back immediately. He still had his mommy days and you said that was enough.

You were always supportive, never angry or jealous. You’d share the moments with him while he enjoyed them with you.

It was all what he’d never had, so he’d make sure River, Judith, and RJ never went without it.

His eyes were slow to open, squinting at the traitorous window that dared let the morning rays creep across the bed and to his pillow. It took a few sluggish blinks to remember what day it was and that he was free to go back to sleep until River required either you or him. With a deep breath, he stretched his arms above his head and looked at you, still wrapped around him with your head on his chest. Naked. Still so very, very naked.

He was barely in the bedroom door before you were pushing him against it, almost catching his fingers when he attempted to mute the sound of it closing at his back. You had his shirt unbuttoned and your mouth on his before he could even take a breath. “I told you,” you panted against his lips, “we’re playing chess tonight.” Daryl grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you easily, spinning you to press you against the door. “Goddamn right, we are.” The first round was a frenzied bout of moaning and skin slapping skin, hands covering mouths to keep the noise down. Your nails had left gouges on Daryl’s ass and back, clawing at him for more. You weren’t unscathed. A bruise was blooming on the curve of your right breast, a perfect black and purple bite he had inflicted at some point. It ended with you lying across Daryl’s torso while he was flat on his back with the pillow halfway over his face. Panting and sweating while the sheet covered neither of you where it mattered. Why it was anywhere near either of you was anyone’s guess. The second time was slower, every second savored. Your fingertips memorizing his face while his hips rolled into you, back arching to push himself deeper. His lips were on your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks and mouth. His fingers danced down your ribcage and back up to your breasts, gentle caresses while he pressed his lips over the mark he’d left earlier. You didn’t have to try hard to roll him over. He went willingly, his hands going straight for your hips. You let your fingers roam his chest and stomach. His scars were yours to explore, he’d given that power over to you long ago. The marks no longer held him prisoner after you’d shown him how to be free. You were incredibly attracted to the way his body had softened with age and he worshiped each wrinkle and stretch mark that time and pregnancy had gifted you. You loved each other wholly, without condition.

And you laid where you had collapsed, goosebumps on your skin from the cool morning air. Daryl didn’t want to go back to sleep, so he laid there, watching you and just enjoying the silence with the knowledge that his family was safe. That you had survived together and built something so precious.

When River began to fuss, it was Daryl that slipped out of bed and left you to rest a bit longer. He had no qualms with being the one to get up earlier to take care of the baby.

The weekend went by fast, as it often did. Sunday night, he found himself sitting on the couch after the kids were all asleep. He had helped clean up after dinner and was contently watching you pick up toys and fold laundry. He didn’t step in to help because he had no intention of allowing you to continue for long.

“What?” You finally inquired, obviously catching him staring.

“Nothin’.” He smirked, huffing a laugh that came out as an exhale through his nose. You were still regarding him when he stood and beckoned you with a finger. “C’mere.” Your pretty eyes narrowed but you placed the unfolded towel on the top of the pile in the basket and stepped into his space. Daryl wasn’t romantic, truly believed he didn’t have it in him to be anything near it. Still, when he guided your arms to his shoulders and lowered his hands to your hips, he watched you melt.

“There’s no music, Daryl.”

“Don’t need it.” He shrugged, just swaying back and forth with you, pulling you closer until you rested your head against his chest.

“The formidable Daryl Dixon is dancing with me when there’s no music playing. This’ll make the papers. It’ll be the headline.”

“Stop.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss into your hair. He was smiling when you sighed, somehow pressing yourself closer to him. You didn’t react at first when he started to hum, whether you were in shock or just relishing the moment. Maybe both. You let him continue.

It was an old tune, one from a favorite album released more than a decade before the first walker rose from the dead. The tune was slow and deep, his chest vibrating with every drone. Finally, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, the corners of your mouth perked.

“What is that?”

“How dare ya! S’Ozzy, woman.” He feigned offense but was tenderly tucking your hair behind your ears.

“I’ve never heard it.”

Daryl scowled playfully before scrunching his nose. “Remind me why I married ya?” You wrapped yourself around him and with the fondest smile he had ever let cross his face, he held you tighter.

“Because you love me.”

“Yeah.” He breathed. “Yeah, I do.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #dad!daryl #daryl fluff #domestic!daryl #Spotify

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wtfsteveharrington · 7 days

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take the upper hand | carmen berzatto x reader

push the reset button we're becomin' something new

description: carmen berzatto is stubborn and anxious and doesn't always know how to express himself. your best friend drags you to a party that carmen knows you'll be at and he shows up to make amends and thank god he does because he saves you from dealing with some drunk asshole.

content warnings: angsty!! drinking/party scene, shitty drunk guy w/ a shitty guy mentality!!, reader gets hit on with one night stand suggestion tones, carmen's ready to swing, mentions of anxiety and jealousy. mentions of reader drinking. kissing, mentions of intimacy related scratches, some light smut references.

author notes: my first time posting something that isn't just smut!! also something that no one but me has read!! normally i always get a proof read, not today. but this idea has been rattling around in my ole noggin' for a minute now so here we are. reminder!! you are responsible for your own media consumption!! if this won't be your jam then there's tons of other fics in the sea (: ily thank you!

even if it's handcuffed i'm leavin' here with you

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The last place you wanted to be tonight was some house party in Wicker Park. With Pitbull, of all artists, playing so loud in the basement that the floor upstairs was still vibrating. Everything was sticky and stinky and you did not wanna be here.

But your best friend was hooked on this guy from her gym.

It didn’t help that Carmy recognized his name from high school and mumbled out some remark about, “Oh yeah, no Dave’s a pretty solid guy.” She was convinced it was a sign that they were meant to be. Not to mention she found his mom’s Facebook and a post from two years ago that included his birth time. The whole train ride over you listened to how compatible the two of them were and how much she loved that he was a Scorpio rising.

She had begged you to come to this God forsaken party and help put in a good word for her. Something had her convinced that if you mentioned just how well you were getting to know Carmen to this Dave guy that he would hold your opinion of her in higher regards.

And sure, maybe there was a part of you that hoped Carmen would be here even while the two of you were feuding. He knew it was coming up but couldn’t promise he’d be off in time - Something you got quite used to. It normally didn’t bother you that he had so many late nights at the resturant but when it rains, it pours and now you’re stuck sitting next to the sink littered cups filled with what can only be best described as some sort of horrific finance bro jungle juice. A mix of 1942 and fresh pressed juice.

Your nose wrinkles up at the smell but you’re quickly refocused at the booming sounds of Ethan Callaghan stumbling through the back door. Another man Carmy knew from high school but didn’t like as much. Something about always being too in-your-face. Though you were pretty sure he was close with the guy your best friend was currently hooking up with in some random bedroom down the hall.

The second his eyes land on you there’s a lopsided smile being thrown your way as he tries to fluff his hair and stand up as straight as possible. He’s stumbling into the kitchen with a full drink in hand, droning on and on about how he was ‘just so jealous’ that your friend went into that bedroom earlier. How nice it must be to not end the night alone. No pleasantries at all, just right into the whole lonely and horny act that was grossing you out.

No one particularly knew you and Carmy were together yet - He wasn’t the type who wanted to label right away and potentially mess things up and you weren’t the type to out your dating status to random drunken men either. Besides, you weren’t so sure that ‘I have a boyfriend’ would put an end to this pitiful man’s sob story.

As if, on queue and manifested right out of thin air, Carmen rounds the corner and takes a second to soak in the sight in front of him. You’re sitting there with your eyes trained on the water bottle in your hands. Ethan’s yapping away about how pretty you are and how big his apartment is. An excellent view in Streeterville that you’d love to see with the best brunch place in town two blocks away blah, blah, blah. Your shoulders are hunched over, body leaning away from Ethan as he stands at the window watching his reflecting in the window above the sink.

“Hey - Been looking for you.”

Carmen.

Your head whips around to the sight of his voice instantly. There’s a pang in your chest at the sight of him standing in front of you after you two had been apart for these last few days. He looked tired. Wearing a sweater he knows you love because he wants to look nice for you. God you wanted to run over and crash yourself against his chest. Screw the petty fight. Instead you’re stuck giving him a very pointed look, hoping he takes the hint to save you.

He’d be lying if there wasn’t a split second where Carmen feared you were actually going to go home with this loser until he saw the panic and annoyance written across your face. Ethan’s laughing at the sight of him. “Hey, Dude. Think we’re all good here, yeah?” Oh he hates this dick.

There’s a thick level of tension in the room as Carmen squares up his shoulders and steps further into the room. His eyes are trained on Ethan who clearly wasn’t expecting much of a fight out of Carmy. He stops when he’s standing between your knees, putting himself between the two of you. Something about the way he instantly turned possessive turned up a feeling deep in your stomach no matter how annoyed you still were.

“Pretty sure someone out back was looking for you, Dude. It doesn’t seem like anyone in here wants you around. Now either you’re too fucking dense to realize it or you don’t care that you’re not wanted, but I’m here to let you know. So I suggest running out back and getting the fuck out of our hair.”

Ethan’s clearly entertained while looking between the two of you, a playful glint in his eye. You’re silently begging him to walk away and find yourself bringing a hand up to put on the small of Carmen’s back. While you’ve never seen him actually fight, you’ve seen many scraps between him and Richie. Heard stories of him growing up and heard the Bachelor party story.

You’re fine not having your own fight stories to tell.

T-Pain is now blasting in the background and the contrast of people laughing and singing downstairs versus the situation you’ve found yourself in is making your head spin. The whole time your best friend is clueless and wrapped up in Mr. Scorpio Rising. She owes you big time. Like you’ve secured friend of the year already and she needs to throw a parade in your honor after going through this.

Ethan’s finally putting his hands up in the air, that shit eating grin still plastered across his features. “My bad, my bad. Didn’t know you were already claimed.” Claimed. Gross. Your fingers press into Carmy’s back, a silent plea to beg him not to escalate this even more. He’s laughing at the sight of the two of you before snagging a half finished bottle of vodka off the counter and backing up towards the back door.

Carmen steps out from between your legs and follows Ethan to ensure he leaves. Shoulders pushed back, chest puffed out. You’d find the sight entertaining if you still weren’t so on edge. Carmen Berzatto, your protector.

And sure, he’s probably just making this asshole someone else’s problem for the night but he doesn’t care. The main priority is getting you away from him and getting you safe.

You catch the sight of his curls out of the corner of your eye when Carmen returns and instantly steel your spine. The shift in the air now that Ethan is gone was thick. He was a distraction from the distance between you two but now you’re preparing yourself for another argument when really you had no energy left to give it. There was a small worry that he’d think you gave Ethan any inclination that you were interested. Even though you two had been tense, there was never anyone else but you but him. Even if you’re too stubborn to drop that information just yet.

Carmen’s quiet. His heavy boots against the floor make your heart beat faster. Everyone had scattered out of the kitchen when he walked Ethan out of there but not before giving you two a nervous glance as they went. Some probably disappointed there wasn’t a fight if we’re being honest.

“Hey.”

You don’t dignify him with a response. Crossing your arms over your chest and taking a sudden interest in the magnets that littered this guy’s fridge. Toying with the idea of putting the ‘Area 51 is for Lovers!’ magnet in your pocket. You figured you deserved something for going through this hell of a night.

He stops himself once he’s reached your side, the silence awkward and thick in the air. Carmy’s hand is on your knee now, his touch not as firm as you’re used to. The whiplash of emotions once again not helping either of you know just quite where you stand.

“M’still mad at you.”

He winces but he knew it was coming.

The two of you wallow in silence. Carmy’s just about to finally speak but someone stumbles in on the hunt for vodka, takes one look at the annoyance on your boyfriend’s face, before quickly muttering they’ll find it somewhere else.

And you still won’t look at him.

He’s grabbing at your waist now, pulling you from the counter and against his chest. You wanna protest but there’s still a buzz going through your body that makes it hard to think quick enough to push back. Plus God does he feel warm and smell so good.

Carmy’s walking backwards towards the fridge, waiting until his back is flush against it to slide down. Bringing down those magnets you wouldn’t stop staring at, family photos, whatever was in his way came with the two of you. He’s tugging you until you’re straddling his waist while he brings his knees up to support you. Grabbing a hold of your face, finally making you look at him and fuck he looks like shit close up. Dark circles, hair a little messier than he’d normally allow, a bit of fear deep in his eyes.

“You gotta tell me how to fix this.” It’s all unfamiliar territory for him. There wasn’t exactly a good example set for him growing up to say the least.

Four days ago Carmen watched as the barista at some coffee shop you wanted to go to flirted with you. That shit already annoyed him, but he tried to bite his tongue. Then your latte came out with a heart in the foam and you kept explaining that’s just how they all come out but he was jealous and possessive and didn’t know how to communicate that so instead the two of you fought in the car for an hour. It was so stupid and he’s been kicking himself in the ass ever since.

The past four days you refused to talk to him and had done a good job at dodging the situation. Normally you two fight, you fuck, and then you pretend everything’s okay. The cycle was getting old and wearing you down.

Until now.

You give a heavy sigh, reaching out to toy with the bottom hem of his shirt. Carmy really did look like it had been going through it so you’re throwing him a small bone. “Maybe not making me sit on a sticky floor would be a good start.” He’s muttering out this small laugh, thankful to hear anything coming out of your mouth let alone a joke, the sound vibrating against your fingertips and you hate how much it fills your heart.

He waits for the rest. The other shoe to fall. Every ounce of laughter is gone when you finally collect yourself enough for - “Do you think we’re good together, Carmen?” You can feel him stiffen under you, his hands gripping at your waist because he needs something to give him some stability.

A beat goes by. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Another beat, this time it’s Carmy who refuses to look at you. Eyes downcast and trained on your lap. “But I’m not sure I’m good for you.” You weren’t expecting that.

Once again silence falls between the two of you, still toying with the hem of his shirt before you lean in to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Taking a deep breath that’s filled with his cologne, faint smoke, and just Carmen that you’ve grown to crave. “You just gotta learn to trust me, Carmen. Outta everyone in this world, I’m the main one who never wants to hurt you. Especially for some barista with a fuckin’ comb over.”

You hoped he would laugh again, but the sound never comes. Instead you feel his arms go tight around your body, his knees coming up a bit more which makes you fully lean into his chest. He’s clinging to you, wishing so badly he knew what to say (or could let himself) say what he knows he needs to. Instead he’s just pressing a kiss to your head, sighing into your hair.

“I wanna be better for you. Just don’t know how.”

The two of you cling to each other and fight to get as close as possible. The distance apart these past four days has left the both of you physically aching for one another. It’s been hours, days of a tense heart and checking phones for texts neither of you knew how to send. You press a kiss against his neck, leaning back just enough to grab his face in your hands and stroke your thumbs over his cheeks.

“It’s scary for me too, y’know? This, us. You’re not alone in being scared but lashing out at me isn’t gonna solve anything. I’m not going anywhere, Carmy.” You take the first step in mending the relationship by leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. There’s a hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as if he’s still scared you’re going to change your mind and run off before he can realize it’s happening.

He’s letting you take the lead and only deepening the kiss once he feels your hands slide under his shirt. Fingers trailing along the toned skin while Carmey licks your bottom lip. Your hands glide around his back where you’re able to trace over healing scratches left on the skin from your last night together.

Your lips part and you take the lead once again, letting your tongue slide along his and giving a low moan into his mouth as you taste him. There’s the lingering taste of cigarettes mixed with black coffee and Carmen. Once again indescribable and simply him. His grip on you tightens up in response and you know if you’re not careful then you’ll end up disheveled and tangled up in the backseat of his car or bent over one of the sinks in a disgusting bathroom. Both options you refuse to pick over getting home and letting him properly make this up to you.

Dragging your nails along the healing marks, Carmen starts to lose track of his kissing. His grip on your neck tightening a bit more, hips rocking up towards you against his better judgement. The motion’s getting needy and sloppy and you have to pull away much to both of your disappointment.

Shaking your head and bringing your hands up to rest flush against his warm chest. “You’re not gonna fuck me on this nasty floor. I deserve better than this.” Which, of course you do. He just gets carried up when he’s wrapped up in you. He’s nodding in agreement but can’t stop himself from licking his own lips to chase the sensation of you.

He’s looking over your features, his heart picking up pace even more than he thought was possible anymore. “Think you’re meant to be my forever, y’know? Sometimes I look at you and it scares the shit out of me because I look ahead and-... It’s you. Kids sitting at a table in the restaurants doing homework. A honeymoon overseas where I get to drag you around different pasty shops and restaurants and we’ll find random art in flea markets to hang when we get home. Take photos that end up framed. It’s you. Always.”

Now how are you supposed to be mad when he’s this open and honest. Unpacking a future you had thought only you considered so far. You hope this behavior sticks. It’s not easy for either of you, but it’s worth fighting through the learning curve. “Kids, huh? Multiple? They’ll be your harshest critics, Carmy. I dunno if you can handle their reviews quite yet.” He’s chuckling, shaking his head with a lazy smile. “No, not yet. But one day.” The promise of more between you finally putting an end to this discussion for now. You make a mental note to remember this moment when the two of you bicker in the future - No matter what there’s always more on the road ahead of you.

Which makes you smile too. Wrapping your arms around his neck. “One day.” You reward him with one more kiss, knowing that’s all the two of you can risk before you end up sprawled out on this floor.

Carmy’s desperate to keep the lightened mood. He’s giving it a moment for both of you to calm back down from kissing before playfully scrunching up his face. “God you taste like shitty tequila.” It works. You’re laughing and swatting your hand against his chest, feeling a bit lighter than you did when you walked into this place. “Carmen Berzatto be nice to me!”

He’s beaming at you now. Bright, happy.

It’s a stark difference from the funk you’d both been stuck in since this fight started. The sight makes your heart swell and you bring a hand up to push some curls back off of his forehead. Leaning in to press a kiss against the tip of his nose.

“Lemme take you home, yeah? Get you some food on the way? Gotta make sure someone so pretty doesn’t wake up with a hangover.” He loves taking care of you in anyway you'll let him.

You nod and carefully start to shuffle off of his lap. Getting yourself to your feet before reaching down to help tug Carmen up to his feet. You catch as he adjusts himself in his pants, a flush blooming along his cheeks and down his neck. Stepping back in until you’re chest to chest with him, you press a line of kisses along his jaw. Rough stubble going away once you find his lips yet again. You hum against his mouth, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta shave in the morning, Carmy.” He’s nodding instantly, reaching his hand down into his pocket to fish out the car keys.

There’s a notification lighting up your phone - Perfect timing. A simple “Gonna spend the night ;)” text from your best friend. You can’t help but to grin and roll your eyes, turning the phone around so Carmen can see the notification too. He’s laughing while sliding a hand into your back pocket and starting to lead the two of you out of the kitchen.

“Yeah, remind me to tell Dave that his friend fuckin’ sucks.”

#why am i nervous to post this #♡: c.b.#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto

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