#and I guess it was just really embarrassing asking to be seen as a woman & being told no so I just locked it away & pretended it didn’t

[luveline]

I NEEEEEED MORE STRIPPER!READER X SPENCER

fem, 1.2k

You and Spencer aren't dating, but he thinks you might be in the before. 

"You're home!" you say, clambering at the door to slip out of your shoes. You throw yourself at him as soon as you're close enough, the salted caramel and sandalwood of your new perfume washing over him. "You're here! I missed you." 

Spencer tries not to blush. He wishes you weren't so close —his hair is lank from two days unwashed, his five o'clock shadow obvious and embarrassing. If you notice anything unappealing about him you don't give the slightest inclination, your arms crossing over his back as you drive your face into his neck. 

"I can't believe how much I missed you, Dr. Reid," you say warmly. 

"I missed you too." Morgan would laugh at him for being this earnest, maybe comment on his lack of charisma, but Spencer doesn't know how else to show that he's interested beyond sincerity. 

You step back but work your hands up his neck and into his hair, raking it away from his cheeks. "That's better. I can see you better now." 

Spencer thought he remembered only horrible things from being a teenager, but he remembers this feeling, sweaty-palmed, heart-racing want. You tilt his head gently one way and then the other like you're following the motion of a wave, fingertips scratching in his hair, the sensation stirring the very pit of his stomach. No trace of tiredness remains on your face, only spritely joy to see him. 

"That feels nice," he confesses. He's not weird about it, more friendly. 

Your aswering grin tells him he nailed the casualness he was aiming for. 

"You've been working hard," you say, tucking his hair behind his ears and dusting down his shoulders, "I can tell. You look tired." 

"You don't. Short shift?" 

"Is it weird that bad weather genuinely keeps people home? I guess they prefer their wives when it's cold." 

"No, really? Who could ever pick the woman they married over you and those silver shorts?" he teases, peeling out of his sweater.

The shirt underneath is rumpled, but he doesn't care about that. Anything to be seen between you has been seen. Spencer has, unquestionably, seen you half naked. You've seen him in his boxers, so you're just about square. "Idiots, all of them." 

You're staying with him again while a security company fits your apartment with the appropriate trappings. Or, that was the initial reason. Spencer went with you to assess after it was done, discovering black mould in the corner of your bedroom and spreading its evil way across the bathroom ceiling. 

What is that? he asked, knowing what it was, hoping you'd at least pretend to be concerned. 

That's fifty bucks off a month, Spence. Don't look so horrified. 

"I missed you," you say for the third time in as many minutes. "And I hoped you'd be home, so I brought Chinese food for two."

You and Spencer change into pyjamas, and it's cliche but whatever, you look beautiful undone —he's not stupid enough to lie to himself about how he feels when you're wearing your little outfits, but he prefers this side of you a thousand times over because you like it better. You wear your prized baseball tee, white with blue sleeves, and a pair of sweatpants pushed up high on one leg while you ice your sore knee. He sits cross legged opposite, jabbing his chopsticks into one of your crispy spring rolls just to watch you gasp. 

"Can I ask you something too personal?" 

You rub down the length of your naked calf, sighing as some of the tension releases. You're more bruise than girl lately, splodges of tender skin patterning the inside. "What don't you know about me, at this point?" you ask. 

Like it's a good thing. Like you're glad for it. 

"Are you making enough money?" he asks. 

You steal back your spring roll, answering him through rice paper and greens, "Kind of. Not tonight, but enough for dinner. I'll be okay." 

"Did you think about it?" 

You shovel through your waxy box of rice, shrugging. "I thought about it, but… it's not realistic. What office would take me? What drug store?" 

"I could loan you the money while you apprentice, and get some experience, you could go back to school–" He says it all in a rush and you still knock him down. 

"It's real sweet of you, Spence, it is, but I couldn't let you do that. That makes me your charity case, and not your friend." 

"What else do you do for the people you care about?" he asks. Let them stay at a job they don't like, even if they're good at it, one that puts them statistically at higher risk for femicide or assault? 

"I wouldn't need a loan, Spencer, I'd need more than you have," you say gently. "I'd have to start my life from scratch. How would I pay rent? You couldn't afford to keep us both." 

"You could stay with me again." 

You shake your head. "You're the best friend I've ever had, which is why I'm saying no." 

He doesn't get what you mean, but you finish your dinner and help him clean up. He more than trusts you to stay here alone while he's on a case, you've honestly left it in better condition than you found it, and he insists you sleep in his bed again while you're here. 

"Don't be silly," you say, throwing a sheet out over the couch. "This is your place. You need to sleep in your own bed." 

The disaster is that it smells like you. Spencer says goodnight to you reluctantly and leaves you on the couch with every throw blanket he owns, climbing into his own bed and pulling the comforter up to his nose. He imagines you here at night, your body wash still clinging to your skin from a late night shower, your hand tucked under his pillow. There are so many things he'd like to give you, if you'd just let him. 

He spends a quiet thirty minutes like that, missing the warmth of your skin and your casual touching, wishing he could offer you the fresh start you desire, even if it meant he wasn't involved. 

The couch springs creak as you toss and turn, the sound finding it's way down the short hall from the living room slash kitchen to his bedroom. Hesitant, Spencer shifts in bed, hitting that one coil in his mattress just right, the twang resounding.  

You appear in his doorway with your borrowed pillows crushed to your chest not long after that. You don't need to ask, Spencer doesn't need to answer. He can't give you everything that you want, but he can give you a quiet, comfortable night next to someone who loves you. 

Ever well-tempered, you slip into the sheets beside him and curl up toward him, your fingertips brushing his side. You don't look at him in the dark, but you mumble sleepily, fingers twitching, "Night, Spence." 

You're out like a light. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[softlyspector]

Catching

Summary: None of your partners had ever been able to make you come before. Joel changed that.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: ~1.9k

Warnings: smut from start to finish, but make it so poetic (piv, fingering, f receiving oral, dirty talk), Joel is a little bit of a menace and also a lot pussy drunk, negative self thought and doubt, a smidge of anxiety, talk of sex with previous partners being painful/uncomfortable

A/N: This was the result of another brain worm that would not leave me aloneeeeeee. Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy and I would love to know what you think!

Joel made you come the first time you slept with him. 

It’s not that you thought he wasn’t capable of it. No, you were sure he was more than capable. Joel was nothing like your previous partners. 

But something about it still surprised you. 

His care surprised you. His careful attention surprised you. It itched beneath your skin and wormed into your heart. There was space among your bones, hollow places left empty that he managed to nest down into. 

He touched you, touched you, touched you—

Joel wound you up expertly. Like he knew everything about you already. 

Or, maybe he listened.  

You soaked the sheets long before his fingers or tongue touched your cunt. 

And then, he made you come. 

You guessed maybe it was a little bit of a surprise then, but not because you thought he couldn't. Just because no one had ever tried to before, just because no one had ever managed to before. 

You’d never come with a partner. And when Joel made you come, with his mouth and then his fingers and then his cock, again and again and again, it was more than a little overwhelming. 

It made you cry in the intervals between hitched breaths and raw lips. 

The spaces between your ribs seemed to close, the carefully built hollow parts of you that Joel had burrowed into crushed and compacted into something much more solid. The feeling seared through your chest. 

It was different with someone else. Coming was different with someone else. It felt so much better with someone else. 

You couldn’t say if it was always like that, because Joel was the only one that had ever really even attempted it. 

Maybe it was just Joel that did you in, that untied your knots and broke apart your insides to find out what made you tick. Like a tinkerer deep inside beloved clockwork. 

You expected what you’d come to know, the unimpressive and very brief—and sometimes painful because you were fucking dry—intrusion of fingers, before he stuck his dick in you for less than five minutes. Groaned about how good you felt, how tight, before rolling away. 

Embarrassing, but true to almost every experience you’d had.

But Joel.  

Joel felt how wet you were and groaned, a deep and pained sound. 

Joel asked you, begged you, to let him touch you.

Joel wanted to put his head between your legs. He was hungry for you, wanted to live there, nestled between your thighs, nose buried in the curls of your sex. His tongue went inside you and he groaned, deep and guttural when he did and you clenched around him, back arched off the bed. 

His hands held your legs apart. He thumbed gentle circles into your skin, divoted fingerprints into the malleable, soft flesh of your thighs. 

His hands were warm but all you could think about was a picture you’d seen once, of a statue—a man’s veined hand on the marble thigh of a woman, so lifelike it felt intimate to gaze at. The stone man gazed up at the stone woman, benevolence and reverence in his gaze. 

Joel’s hand looked like that on your skin, like artful, dimpled flesh beneath a solid hand.

Pussy drunk. He was drunk on you, lapping at you like you were the last goddess left on a scorched earth, brow furrowed, lips plump and swollen, coated with you. 

Maybe it wasn’t different with a partner, maybe it was just different with Joel. 

He was loud in the pleasure it gave him to be graced with the ocean of your body. He moaned into you, like the salt of you was not like every other person’s taste. He mumbled praises. He said you tasted good, he said you were doing so good my sweet girl, so good, honey, this all for me?

Your body gave endlessly to him, and Joel took it all. Greedy. Hoarding you. 

The sound of how wet you were made the tightened, collapsed slats of your ribs catch flame. The feeling burned through your chest, sparked his name like tinder from your mouth. 

Something new sprouted up in the razed ashes of it though, a forest that demanded attention and care, a need that seared you from the inside out. And Joel was more than happy to help it grow. He was more than happy to care for you. He groaned when you came, unaware that someone else giving you an orgasm was an entirely new experience. 

That just that alone was almost too much. 

You shook. 

Joel only spread you wider, hooked your leg over his shoulder, pressed your other leg back flat with firm fingers, and kept going until another orgasm shattered through you, until you gushed over his mouth. 

He seemed to like the flood of you, and so the shame that threatens to sink clawed talons into you didn’t last. 

When he looked up, his eyes were dark, the color of a starless night, fathomless, bottomless wells, beckoning you to him like a siren spell. You would take the willing first step into those waters, into that abyss. Happily. You would happily do it. 

He looked sated, like that was enough. Like he would never hunger again. Like your essence dripping from the soft grays of his facial hair was enough. Like you alone were enough. 

So, after all of it—

When he took you apart on his fingers, one at a time until you were stretched wide around three, and he muttered under his breath about makin’ sure you’re ready for me darlin’ —he made you come again. 

After that, he made you come when he—

Pushed into you so nice and slow, drawling low and thick about how you can take it, honey, doin’ so good sweet girl, you look so good gettin’ split open on my cock. And then he made you come again and again and again—

When the pleasure finally turned you boneless and weak and you begged—you begged and begged and begged for him to come too. He promised he would, he would give you what you want, sweetheart. I know. You did so good. Been so good for me. 

Joel pulled out of you and came on your belly.

You swept your fingers through it while he groaned above you, spreading it over your skin until his hand snatched at your wrist and pulled your hand away so he could lick your fingers clean and settle you into his arms, stickiness be damned. The state of the sheets be damned.

He held you. He didn’t roll away, he didn’t fall asleep.  

It was only then, that the tears came sudden and fast. They welled up and spilled over. They trailed down your cheeks before you could stop them, rolling onto the beating heart of the man next to you, siphoning down onto the little watered forest of his own soul, bruised and bright.  

“What’s wrong?” He was cradling your face, swiping at your cheeks. Worry etched into lined skin. Worried, he was so worried. “Was I too much? Did I hurt you?” 

No, not hurt. 

You shook your head, and your voice was pathetic when it tripped over your tongue on its way out of your mouth. 

“I’m overwhelmed,” you managed, and his eyes darkened, clearly reading the tone of your voice wrong, reading the word you chose to describe the full, choking feeling in your chest wrong. “In a good way,” you hurried to explain. “No one has ever made me come before,” you admitted against your better judgment. 

It was possible for him, then, to realize that maybe there was something wrong with you, afterall. 

Joel paused. 

His brow furrowed. “You mean that many times—”

No one said he was a man above a little bragging. “No,” you laughed wetly, with shame. With heat tearing a hole in your lungs. The fire his name started still burning. “At all.” 

“Serious?” You couldn’t decide on his tone. 

“So very,” you breathed. “They all just kinda stuck it in.”

He frowned. “Really?” 

“Well,” you admitted, “Sometimes their fingers first. A little.” 

“That’s what’s got you cryin’?” He attempted teasing you. “I made you come too many times?” His voice was a chuckle in your ear, like the hum of a beehive, like the brush of a breeze through crisp, decaying leaves. 

You wrinkled your nose and buried your face in his shoulder, embarrassed and still crying, still overwhelmed, like you couldn’t quite catch your breath. You couldn’t fault him for laughing though. It was ridiculous. 

Joel cupped the side of your face, lifted your head. “Hey,” he said. He wasn’t laughing anymore, his expression sombered. “Did they hurt you?” 

You squirmed and shrugged. “Not really. I couldn’t…maybe I should have been better at saying what I wanted. But they always seemed to just want it to be…over with.” The admission felt heavy in your chest, shameful somehow. It wasn’t like you’d told Joel what you wanted either. 

“If they were any good to ya,” he tipped his head closer to yours. “They woulda known and done somethin’ about it.” His eyes flicked over you. “They never ate this pretty pussy?” 

Your eyelids fluttered as Joel dragged his knuckles down your side. “No.” 

“Their fuckin’ loss,” he growled. “I can’t wait to put my mouth back on you. All of it, sweetheart, is their loss.”  

You shivered, tiny tears still slipping down your cheek. “You made me feel so good, Joel,” you hummed, the small compliment all you could manage.

He turned, pressed you back into the sheets, his nose dipping along your collarbone, the hollow of your throat. “And your pussy is so easy to make come, baby. I mean that in an admirin’ way. If they didn’t make you come, they weren’t tryin’ to at all.” 

“J-Joel,” you stammered as his hands traversed your body again. “I’m too—I can’t again.” 

He rolled his hips slowly against yours. His cock was still soft. 

But he looked so pretty above you. The bulge of muscle in his biceps rippled, his mouth teased along your throat. “Why not?” He asked. “I got a lot of makin’ up to do.” 

The familiar thrill and roll of anticipation shivered up your spine. His chest brushes yours. “You’re s’damn sensitive, honey. I gotta know all the ways I can make you come.” 

“Too sensitive,” you remarked. “Please, baby,” you cupped his face in your hands, pulled him away from where he was nosing slowly lower, to your chest, your pebbled nipples. “I promise to let you find out. But later.”

Truth be told, you were sore. You ached, in all the ways a person could. You needed to recover from him, just a little.  

He stared at you, relenting, somehow sensing that. “Alright, honey,” he agreed softly, kissing you instead. “Did y’keep count?” 

Heat flooded your chest, chased the lingering dregs of whatever sharp things other people had left lodged in your chest away. There was only Joel now. There was only room for Joel. “No.” 

He tsked, his voice low. “Hm. We’ll have to start over then.” 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller

[laenordeservedbetter]

For Sam x reader.

Ghostface is back and had followed the Carpenters, the twins, and Amber's older sister, Reader, to New York. No one trusting her because of the fact that her little sister was Ghostface, Reader is in disbelief, and Sam breaks up with her on the spot. Fast forward to the end, where Ghostface is dead, everyone's being treated by paramedics, Reader is seen walking away from the scene alone. Kirby asks where she is, Sam then sees her walking away, holding her broken arm to her body, and runs after her and apologies for not trusting and believing her. (Reader saying it's too late for sam to apologize. She then walks away from her friends, from Sam.)

You're Somebody Else

Words: 1.4k

Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x Fem!Freeman!Reader

Synopsis: You were told that the biggest betrayal comes from the people you care about the most, but never did you expect it to hurt so much.

Warnings: scream vi spoilers, violence, spitting, cussing, angst, no happy ending. lmk if I missed any.

A/N: I wrote this at a coffee shop. I'm still here rn, so we'll see how many fics I can post before I go home. (This will probably be the only one)

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

You stood before Amber’s Ghostface outfit, reaching out to touch the fabric before you remembered where you were -- who you’re with. The glares given to you by the rest of the group burned at the back of your skull. You can practically sense their judgments. Since the first Ghostface attack in New York, they pointed their fingers at you. You understood, given what you've all been through. Can't be too careful. You didn’t care that you saw the contempt on your own girlfriend’s face. You stayed by her side, understanding where she was coming from.

Being related to a previous Ghostface was something you and Sam had in common. When you are linked to a person with that track record, it sticks with you even if you are different from them. Trust becomes hard to give. And out of everyone, you figured your girlfriend is the one who understood the most about what it’s like. However, it looks like the sentiment isn’t shared.

She approaches you, getting the courage to ask, “Can we talk?”

You can tell what’s about to happen before Sam can utter what she wants to say to you.

Nothing good ever comes out of conversations like these.

“I’m sorry.” Sam stares, her gaze cold, nothing like the Sam you fell in love with. With each deafening step she takes away from you, your heart shatters just a little bit more. You are wounded by the way she’s looking at you. Any wound or injury you might sustain in the next few minutes will not compare to the poison laced in the invisible knife held against your throat by the woman you love. “I can’t take any more chances. I can’t trust you. We’re done.”

You scoff, glancing towards the group in hopes that they would back up your claim. “Sam, you know me. I would never hurt you or Tara or. . . Anika.”

Mindy flinches at the mention of her girlfriend’s name. Her stare hardens. “You have no right to say her name. We know you did it. You killed her.”

“Mindy…” Your voice breaks as your throat feels like it’s closing up. You can’t do anything to convince them, letting the stream of tears flow from your eyes. No one came to your rescue to prove your innocence. None of them trusted you. You felt pathetic, humiliated, embarrassed. Your eyes settle on Sam again. “Really? After everything we’ve been through together, you-”

Sam glowers. “It’s over, Y/n. Please, stay away from us.”

“Fuck you.” You turn your back, the hurt in your tone clear as day. “I don’t know you at all.”

“Maybe we didn’t know each other as well as we thought.”

It was one thing for you to walk away and another knowing that Sam would not be going after you.

-

“It was easy luring you away from the group. Guess we really can’t choose our family, huh?” Ghostface makes a tsk sound, the voice changer turned off.

He takes a step forward, but you stay positioned adjacent to the wall. That voice…

“Ethan?”

Ethan removes his mask, holding the voice changer to his lips, “Didn’t expect that?”

Of course it was him. Little by little, the pieces fall into place. The apartment attack -- that was probably Ethan. He wasn’t with the group. Not even the skeptic Mindy questioned his whereabouts. Your tears haven’t dried yet and you were as sure as hell they weren’t going to stop now. You bring your hands together in a slow clap. “Oh, wow, that’s… Fucking brilliant, actually.” Clutching your stomach, you let out what sounded like a painful cackle. “This is the part where I die.” You say. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“Oh no, no, no. See, that’s where you’re wrong.” Ethan smirks, gripping your left arm, applying pressure to where you had been previously injured a couple nights prior. “You are our scapegoat. I must give credit to Mindy for the idea. You have the perfect motive to be Ghostface! It was just gonna be Sam, but… The press would go crazier if it was a Bonnie & Clyde situation. Not that I care about that sorta stuff. It just works.”

You collect the saliva from your mouth, spitting in his eye. “Jokes on you ‘cause we’re not together anymore.”

“But they wouldn’t know that because by the time you get ‘caught’, all of your friends will be dead and you would look like the asshole trying to save yourself if you attempt to say the truth.”

Ethan places his free hand on your shoulder, pulling your arm with more force than necessary to guarantee that it would break. You stand there, biting your lip in order to hide the pain. If I screamed, it wouldn’t make a difference anyway, you said to yourself bitterly. There’s not a single person who’d give me the benefit of the doubt. In fact, they’d make me suffer worse, believing that Ethan did the right thing. Who knows what creative scenarios he came up with already.

-

The paramedics found you slumped down beside a row of chairs after Sam and the rest of the group defeated the three Ghostfaces. They wondered why you weren’t with the others, but with a quick word from Kirby, they left you alone, guiding you outside to treat your broken arm. One of the paramedics - Theo (that’s what you heard Kirby call him) asked if you wanted a ride to the hospital. You declined, insisting that you could get there yourself without anyone’s help.

You spare Sam a glance, observing her interact with Mindy, Chad, and Tara. Core Four. Good for them. Although you were glad that they are are still extant, you can’t stop the rancor that you feel as you stare at the four. You want nothing more than for this day to be over, move to someplace else, maybe change your name. Anywhere is better than here. It’s become clear to you how unwanted you are in New York. A change of scenery might do you good.

Kirby (the only person who hasn’t treated you like scum) situates herself in front of Sam, “Hey, where’s Y/n?”

Sam only notices your absence when Kirby pointed it out. “Shit. I…” She scans the area in search of your familiar eyes, guilt eating at her knowing that she accused you of being a killer. Because of that, you got hurt. She’d never forgive herself for it. “I'll be right back.”

The blonde detective nods in understanding. “I’ll stay with Tara.”

“Thank you.”

You were on your way to the hospital when a hand grasps your injured arm. Recoiling from the touch, you look back to curse the one responsible for hurting your limb only to meet Sam’s pleading gaze. “What do you want, Samantha?”

“Y/n, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for being careless, for not trusting or believing you. If I had, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” Sam touches your good shoulder this time, expressing her genuine apology.

But no matter how many ‘I’m sorry’s’ she will direct at you, it won’t take away what’s been done. “It’s too late, Sam.”

“What? No. We can try again.” She pleads desperately.

You couldn’t bite back the words the words that are on the tip of your tongue, feeling the last ounce of self control fray away. “Try again? Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds? You broke up with me because you didn’t trust me. You didn’t even try to understand my side!” The news reporters turned their heads at your outburst. They point their cameras to you, but you don’t make an effort to cut off your ebullition short. “All of you pointed your hands at me because what? I’m the sister of a killer?! If we’re basing our suspicions of all the Ghostface’s relatives, you should’ve been on the top of the list. The only thing I asked was for you to stand by me and you failed. So, no, we can’t try again. We’ll only end up worse than where we left off.” You finish, walking away from everything (not for the first time). “I’ll get my things out of your apartment tonight. After that, you won’t have to see me again.”

Sam stays still while you leave, clutching your arm in the process. That limb will heal, but the words that Sam has spoken won’t. There will remain a constant reminder of how you were betrayed by those you would give everything for.

So much for trust.

#samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #scream 6 #scream #mindy meeks martin #anika kayoko #ethan landry

[letsgetrowdy43]

Not strong enough (Rowan's Version)—

reader x usntdp u18 2018-19 team

Based on the song "Not Strong Enough" by Boy Genius

Warnings: Sexism & Men (they deserve the tw)

Ro's 1000 follower celly

Au Masterlist!!

"Black hole opened in the kitchen, every clock's a different time. It would only take the energy to fix it, I don't know why I am"

“She’s the glue,” Jack grinned and looked over to Cole who smiled back at him, “every team has that person who keeps the group together, and for us, she’s that person.” “She’s our everything really” Trevor interjected as the interviewer nodded her head.

The woman wore a red blazer, in her hands were a few cue cards, messy handwriting full of questions covered the tiny pieces of paper as she grinned at the boys sitting on the couch in front of her.

“How about her game? Explain it to me,” she smiled as Alex sat up. “She’s electric, elegant almost with how agile she is,” the other boys nodded, “her IQ is above all, and her playmaking is so effortless.”

“We wouldn’t be half the team without her,” Cole added. “These accomplishments are because of her, none of these records or wins would’ve happened if she wasn’t in that locker room,” Jack finishes off the interview with a grin as the camera shuts off and the industrial lighting goes out.

“That was an amazing boys, thank you,” the cameraman and director said as he shooed the boys out of the room.

★★

"The way I am, not strong enough to be your man, I try, I can't stop staring at the ceiling fan and, spinning out about things that haven't happened. Breathing in and out"

Y/n watched her interview with tears, a huff leaving her lips as she stared at the ceiling in defeat. “What about the boys? You find them cute?” The woman in the red blazer said with a chuckle.

The cue cards of in-depth questions were nowhere to be seen as the teenage girl sat on the couch in her Team USA jersey. Embarrassment filled her face as she looked behind the camera to see the direct, wondering how on earth this question was even real.

“These boys are like my brothers,” she smiled, tone a little peeved as she stared at her hands, “they are my team, the ones I go to battle for.” A semi smile worked its way into her face as she thought back to the past years with the boys, and how life-changing this team has been for her and for her game, “on the ice we are dynamic, and off the ice, they are my best friends,” she answered honestly

That’s about as far as she could make it into the video before having to turn it off.

The boys received such beautiful questions and were given the opportunity to share such meaningful words. While on the other hand, she was painted out to be some narrative

It was total bullshit.

★★

"Drag racing through the canyon, singing "Boys Don't Cry" Do you see us getting scraped up off the pavement? I don't know why I am"

“Give ‘em hell my girl,” was always Ellen’s words to the teen before she stepped on any ice, whether it be a game or a practice. It held such a strong sentiment, and Ellen was such a strong role model in her life.

They were also the first words said to her the moment she got the call inviting her out to the draft combine in Buffalo, her billet mother pulling her into her arms hug as she cried into Ellen’s arms “I’m so proud of you y/n,” she whispered as the tears subsided with the entrance of the boys who had been waiting for this moment.

“Are those good tears or bad tears?” Alex asked as y/n wiped them away. “Good ones,” she croaked as both Jack and Alex lunged at her.

Not only was this the biggest moment of her life, but this was also one of the biggest moments in female hockey history. The first-ever teenage girl prospect in an all-male league, it was overwhelming, but it was the first step in the direction of change.

★★

"The way I am, not strong enough to be your man, I lie, I am just lowering your expectations. Half a mind that keeps the other second-guessing, close my eyes and count"

“A female prospect?” The interviewer mumbled as he looked through his list of draftees. “It’s progressive,” another man with a clipboard mumbled with a shrug as he sipped his coffee.

“It’s unorthodox,” another person mumbled as one of the interns left to go and fetch the girl from the next room over, “politics and sports don’t coexist,” he added causing a few chuckles around the table.

The only female interviewer tapped her pen on the wooden table, her brows raised and her anger levels starting to rise as she looked at all of the men in the room. “You are making decisions for a billion-dollar company, every single decision and movement you make is due to the outcome of the political climate,” she said hastily before the door opened and all of the people in the room stood to greet the young prospect

The older woman’s hand was the first one out for the young girl to shake as she greeted her with a warm smile and a firm handshake. “Please take a seat, we’re so glad to get the chance to sit down with you!”

★★

"Always an angel, never a god. Always an angel, never a god"

Draft day had to of been the most stressful day ever, the NHL reached out a few weeks prior hoping to include her in their “Welcome to NHL” mini-documentary about her experience on the draft day.

Her hand shook as she stared at herself in the mirror, a small smile on her lips as she looked towards the camera. “Ready to make history?” She mumbled as she looked back at herself she fixed her lavender suit jacket.

"Always an angel, never a god. Always an angel, never a god"

Jack pulled her in for a hug as she got down to the bus, his hand cradling the back of her head as he held her tightly, “I can’t believe this is real,” he mumbled as she pulled away with a proud smile.

The second her heels hit that red carpet she was immediately anxious, she spun the gold ring on her thumb as Quinn and her older brother each patted her on the shoulder and sought out to find their designated entrance as she went through the carpet and the media.

“This colour is beautiful,” the interviewer said as she took in the bold outfit. “The man who designed the suit was very adamant that it was my colour,” she mumbled as she unbuttoned the loose-fitting Jacket.

The interviewer grinned, “As most draftees do, are there any little things about this suit that make it personal?” The girl opened her blazer to showcase a listen of names written in a deep shade of violet on the inside of her suit lining, “these are all of the women in my life who have pushed and haven’t received the recognition that they deserve,” her fingers ran over the writing as she smiled.

“These are the women and the role models who have fought for me to be in this place today, and have given me this opportunity to make history,” she nodded and unveiled the other side. A tiny embroidered quote that said “give ‘em hell,” was sewn into the other side, little flowers decorating the message as the interviewer grinned.

“And this is an ode to the woman who went above and beyond, and fought for me to be in this position,” she smiled as the interviewer wished her luck and sent her on her way

"Always an angel, never a god. Always an angel, never a god"

“Hold my hand,” she whispered to her dad, the man pulling the cell phone out of her hand to get her off Twitter for a moment, “people hate me,” she frowned as she looked at her father who shook her head. “People are afraid of change, you are strong you have worked harder than any of the boys in this room,” he whispered as her eyes filled with tears, nodding slowly as she leaned her head against his shoulder, “you are so worthy of greatness, and it'll come when the time is right,” he finished as her attention turned to Gary Bettman who was beginning to walk across the stage.

The boos began, and so did the anxiety.

"Always an angel, never a god. Always an angel, never a god"

One by one her teammates were picked off, proud smiles on her face as they each stopped by her to thank her for everything.

She sent each one of them off with a hug and some choked-up words as they made their way to the stage to live out their dreams. And one by one her dream slowly crumbled, like a glass castle that had been shattered, as the Blues picked their final pick on the second day in the seventh round Y/n felt the emotion rip through her. But instead of cracking, she held her head high and walked out of the arena with the entirety of her family behind her.

The second she was away from the cameras and the fresh air hit her lungs she began to crack.

A sob ripped through her as she sat on the curb, her hands pulling at the roots of her hair, “I was supposed to- I was supposed to make a difference,” she cried as a hand ran over her back. “I'm sorry sweet girl,” Ellen's soft voice sounded as the tears kept coming.

“I worked so much harder than the boys, I trained my ass off, I sat through the sexist interviews, but none of it will ever be enough,” the cries grew louder and louder as she leaned against the woman. “I did everything I could, and I will never meet my dreams,” she said defeated as Ellen held her tightly.

“I know baby, it's unfair, you deserve it just as much as the boys” she whispered, tears staring in her own eyes as she watched the girl who had been a daughter to her shake with a look of distraught on her face.

The girl wiped the underneath of her eyes, her fist finally unclenching as she sniffled, “I will never be enough,” she whispered and looked up to see the photographer taking a photo from across the street too which she just shook her head and sighed.

★★

"I don't know why I am the way I am, there's something in the static, I think I've been having revelations. Comin' to, in the front seat, nearly empty skip the exit to our old street and go home"

The draft had come and gone, and the boys each headed off to the new destinations in their lives. She ended up in Minnesota, as a freshman on the women's hockey team. Division one college hockey had always been on her list of things she wanted to experience, and it was everything she imagined.

It was slow, life slowed right down when she stopped putting that pressure on herself to always be the very best. The girls were sweet, but they knew what she had gone through during the summer, some a little envious, some a little sorrowful to know the struggles that she'd endured in the pursuit of her possible professional career.

The boys called often, to tell her about the little things, shared what their lives now entitled, whether it be in the league, or in university, wanting their favourite girl to know that they were always thinking of her.

Jack was a constant call in her life, a rookie who now carried the burden of being one of the potential greats. "It's really not all as great as they paint it out to be," he mumbled tiredly. It kind of felt like a stab in the heart sometimes, for him to be so ignorant to the pressure she had been other previously and then tell her that maybe she was lucky she would never get to experience the so-called 'torture' he was experiencing.

"Jack, do you know how badly I would kill to be in your shoes right now, to be worthy enough to prove myself to an entire league," she scoffed as the tears started, "do you know how much I wanted that, do you know how much I pushed myself to make it to that draft and then to be turned away after all of that work?" "I know," he sighed. "I don't think you do, 'cause at the end of the day you're calling me to complain about an amazing opportunity," she huffed as she heard the sniffles on the other end, heart squeezing a bit knowing that she was being hard on him.

"I'm sorry, it's just you have such talent, you're just in a slump J," he hummed in agreeance on the other end, "and you're gonna do such amazing things, you just need to push through it." "Should I give 'em hell?" "You need to raise Hell J," she finished her pep talk as he whispered a quiet Thank you and then hung up.

★★

"Go home alone"

She remembers the phone call so clearly, sitting in her dorm in her junior year, moving in only a few days prior as she started to get ready for her classes.

the phone rang twice before she answered the call, and an unknown number appeared on the screen as she stared at the random digits. "Hello?" "Is this Y/n L/n?" "This her," she said with a clear voice, brows furrowed as she held the phone a little away from her face to see if maybe she now recognized the number.

"Great! This is Tom Fitzgerald, GM of the New Jersey Devils," her heart dropped, and she sat up quickly as she looked at her roommate with wide eyes, "we would like to invite you to Jersey for the weekend, Lindy Ruff would like to meet you and have a chat about some sort of deal!" "Of course, I'm free whenever," her hand covered her mouth in shock as she felt the slight tremor of her hands, "thank you for this opportunity Sir," the man hung up the phone as she stared at her screen with wide eyes.

A smile rested on her face as a notification popped up.

My turn to tell you to raise hell! 😈❤️

Jack's number appeared just above the message as she looked up to her roommate. "Holy shit"

-

-

-

Kinda scared to post this 🫣

#⭐️ro's1000followercelly⭐️ #neveragodau!! #quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #umich hockey #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #new jersey devils

[ellielatinagf]

Lacrosse!Ellie Part 2

Summary: after meeting that mysterious girl who had your heart and stomach in knots, you find a way to get closer to her

Warnings: mild profanity,

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

*follow*

You finally hit the follow button. After what felt like hours of just stalking the girls account. You thought about meeting her, but after your encounter with her the other day it felt pretty awkward and you didn’t want to seem to eager.

*Elli3mfwilliams started following you*

*new message*

Ellie: heyy

She was fast with it. You literally just started following her and she texted you??

You: hii

*seen just now* thank god she must be a fast replier

Ellie: how’d you find me?

You: Dina gave me your account. Is that okay?

Ellie: of course babes

Oh god that nickname. Does she know what she’s doing? Does she know the way your stomach churns at the name and even wanting to turn itself inside out? Wait is she even gay?? What kind of question is that, one look and you can already tell she practically worships women. You tried to think of a way to get closer to her

You: are you any good at math?

Ellie: math genius

You: do you think you can help me? Like study and stuff

Ellie: sure I got you. Wanna meet up this weekend at the coffe shop by school?

Ugh, this weekend? It’s only Tuesday, this weekend is forever away…

You: sure!

Ellie: alright then, see ya later babe

You turned off your phone and placed it on your night stand. You laid on your bed and stared at the ceiling. You basically made a date with Ellie. Sure you two barely knew each other but it was better than nothing. You knew you liked women. You hadn’t exactly dated a woman but anytime you saw a pretty woman you just knew you liked them.

You woke up the next morning to your alarm clock throwing a tantrum on the drawer. You decided to get a little dolled up today. Maybe you just felt in the mood. Your humming to the song playing on your speaker was interrupted by the notification in your phone

*Dinasaur calling*

“Oh shit” You Said Running out of your room grabbing your backpack and rushing outside. You climbed in Dina’s car with half your makeup applied.

“Girl we’re gonna be late!” Dina complained “wait a minute why are YOU looking all pretty?” Dina asked smiling. You giggled and pulled down the passenger mirror to apply your lip gloss.

“I dunno just wanted to I guess” you smirked. Dina didn’t buy, but she didn’t push you. You both sang songs as she drove to school.

“Sooooo have you made any plans this weekend?” Dina asked as you both walked to your classes. Does she know? Did Ellie say something? I mean, it was Dina’s fault you got to talk to Ellie..but still.

“Uh yeah” you said trying to be general and not give hints.

“Ugh! Oh my god Y/n tell me what happened with you and Ellie!” Dina giggled grabbing your arm. You smiled rolling your eyes. Of course she knew. She’s your best friend. What DOESNT she know?

“We’ll nothing really…” You said. You wished something happened “we’re just meeting up for a coffee study this weekend”

“Lame!” Dina exclaimed “your telling me she didn’t fall to your knees and beg you for your hand in marriage?”. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nope. Shocking right?” You replied. The two of you laughed a storm. Dina squeezed your hand goodbye and you both parted ways to go to class. Pre-calc . You hate pre-calc. You basically dragged your feet to class. Your foot missed the next step and before you knew it you tripped and hit your nose on the floor.

If this were anyone else you probably would be laughed. It’s a guilty pleasure. But you groaned and just before you pull yourself up, you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders.

“You okay babe?” You knew that raspy voice. You looked up to meet a pair of green orbs staring at you. A pair of pink lips smiling at you. The embarrassment hit you like a punching bag your cheeks felt warm and turned pink.

“That was an interesting fall ” Ellie chuckled.

“Ha..sorry.. I mean thank you.” You smiled getting back on your feet “I’m fine, thank you”

“No problem babe. We still on for coffee this weekend?” She asked

“Yeah of course” you replied

“Great, I’m looking forward to it. Bye babe. Oh by the way, you look good today”

“Thanks…bye ellie…” you Said waving bye and watching the gorgeous god sent woman leave. Her backpack had space pins on it. Cute. Wait, she said she was looking forward to it. To you. She wants to see you. Oh god. You hated her. Why is so so damn perfect? She’s making you go crazy. That stupid gorgeous nerd.

So excited for the next one omg. Don’t worry there’s gonna be a LOOOOOOTTTTT of fluff trust me loves. Love you thanks for reading! Free Palestine 🇵🇸

@bready101

Dm or reply if you wanna be tagged!

#Spotify #ellie x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #tlou #the last of us #ellie x you

[abbyromanoff]

FOOLISH ONE

PAIRINGS: Carol Danvers x reader

WORD COUNT: 1,879

WARNINGS: smut, dark!Carol, kidnapping, mentions of insanity, use of Daddy (sexual/non-sexual use), pet play (sexual/non-sexual), drugging, alien!R, collars, piercings, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

It’s been days now and nothing but silence has greeted you. You were locked away in a secluded room, it was meant for your safety, as the unknown voice would say. The person, who you guessed was an older woman, would occasionally stop by to drop off food. You never got a good look at her, only spending your time pleading to be freed, insisting people would look for you. But when you really got to thinking, you realized your statement was most likely wrong. Who were you kidding, nobody cared about you, nobody had even spared a glance in your direction.

It was a horrid thought, but throughout the days, you started feeling more content with where you were. The thought of death scared you, but if the woman wanted to kill you, she would’ve already. You heard her murmur the reasons why she took you on the first day when she went over the rules, but sadly your eyes were covered by a blindfold, forcing you to make up an imaginary woman behind the voice.

She stated how she had been watching you for a while now and just couldn’t hold back anymore. Someone noticed you, was all that ran through your head. She noticed you and she wanted you, who could think such a thing. You weren’t…normal. You had green skin and pointy ears, any human, you guessed she was human, would throw you away and call you a freak. You were rather innocent compared to your peers, you grew up lacking the knowledge of most and being forced into shelter by your parents. So once you stepped into the real world, there was no hope for you. People would chuckle at your cluelessness, and you’d be left embarrassed and ashamed of yourself. You just wanted to be like everyone else, was that so much to ask for?

“Here’s your breakfast, honey. Make sure you eat this time, alright?” You started off refusing her meals and drinks in hopes it would get you out of this mess, but you gave up once the hunger started settling in. You should’ve seen the smile on her face when watching you through the cameras.

“T-thank you, ma’am.” You stood up on shaky legs and took the plate through the small window at your stomachline. You didn’t know how long this would continue, but you just wanted something to do. Your days were filled with your eyes staring at a blank void, dreaming of the sun that you never thought you’d miss so much. Maybe she’d let you go out someday, maybe she’d finally set you free.

“Wait!” You called when noticing that she was about to shut the small window. It was your only source of light and it was the most peaceful thing you’ve seen in what felt like years.

“Uhm, can you leave that open? I- I like the light, I’ve been starting to feel a little weak.” She didn’t speak a word, only doing as you asked and leaving you to let out a grateful sigh. She grinned to herself before walking towards the bathroom, grabbing two sets of pills and a glass of water.

She returned moments later as you ate the plate of eggs hungrily, nearly leaving you coughing from the dryness. She wasn’t the best cook, but at least you got to eat. You’ve heard thousands of horror stories from your parents in which kidnappers would starve their victims until they were skin and bone, you couldn’t be ungrateful here.

“Here you go, love, this will help you feel better.” She slipped through the small antibiotics and bottled water, already being able to sense your hesitance through the door.

“You’re not forced to take them, but I suggest if you’d like to feel better, that you do.” You nodded slowly and placed them next to your food, planning to let your full stomach rest before taking them. But, soon enough, you swallowed the pills with a large gulp, almost instantly feeling a wave of anxiety doing so. In horror movies, you never trust the killer, she was the killer in this case. God, you were so stupid. No wonder why everyone repeated those words in your face your whole life.

Only a few minutes later you were feeling woozy, your head starting to spin as your eyes fluttered shut constantly. You were breaking the barrier of pure exhaustion when you heard a door creak open. You tried opening your eyes, wanting to finally catch a glance at the woman who’d been holding you captive, but you were unable to as you fell into a deep state of unconsciousness.

“There you go, baby.”

You woke to a collar tightening around your neck, the sound of a small chain being heard in the background. You fluttered your eyes open before they went wide as you saw the beauty standing in front of you. She smiled down at you when noticing your now awakened figure.

“Well, good morning, sleepyhead!” She ruffled your hair lightly and, if you weren’t currently held bound by your hands and legs, then you would’ve sunk into the feeling. She took recognition of your nervousness, stroking your cheek gently in a silent reassurance.

“Awh, don’t be scared, Daddy’s here.” You took in all of her, glancing up and down at her features. Your line of sight stopped below her belt as you spotted a small bulge hidden beneath her pants. She was packing.

“Such a naughty pup, didn’t you ever get taught some manners, huh?” You gulped fearfully and she chuckled darkly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before tugging you forward.

“Hm, I guess not. Don’t worry, Daddy will teach you everything you need to know.” You were forced to follow her without hope, desperately reaching for something to hold onto as you tripped.

“God, you can’t do anything.” She groaned out tiredly. She knew she had lots of work to do in order to teach you, but she was willing to do anything.

“Where are we going?” You asked timidly, being cautious of every word you spoke and every move you made.

“Outside. I know I’ve been neglecting you of the sun for some time now, and I’m so very sorry, but you had to learn. Now, if you’re a good girl, this could be an often occurrence. But if not…” She trailed off, and you took it as an opportunity for you to fill her words.

“I go back to the darkroom?” You hoped that’s what she wanted to hear. But the smile forming on her face convinced you that you were right and calmed your nerves slightly.

“That’s right! See, you’re already doing so well, puppy.” You had a short time to register the praise before the harsh beams of light hit your now-lightened skin. You were normally a considerably darker shade of green, now you were a sea green with purplish bags under your eyes.

“Uhm, Miss?” You called, trying to catch her attention without being forced to use the humiliating nickname.

“That’s not how you direct me.” She sternly retorted, refusing to take her eyes away from her book. You were starting to form goosebumps from the chilly weather, your body lacking a normal amount of clothing as you were forced to wear a small bra and panties. You wanted to ask, but you wanted to save your sanity at the same time. What would be better, you didn’t know.

“Sorry…Daddy,” It was a low mumble, but it was enough for her to hear you. She suddenly gazed into your eyes with a glance that told you to continue. She would work on your voice level another time, for now, she wanted to see what you so desperately needed.

“I-I’m getting really cold, is there any chance we could go inside? Please?” She hummed before standing abruptly, stalking towards your coward-down form.

“Learning your manners already, I see.” She leaned down, her knees folding as she groaned in slight pain. Her fingers came to your cheek before dragging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Her eyes bored into yours, normally you’d look away in embarrassment, but with her, it was as if you were searching for something more.

“I can already tell you’re going to be the best, most obedient little puppy I could ever ask for. I knew I picked right with you.” You leaned into her touch as she stroked your skin, her features gleaming as she admired the green. Your ears perked up at the attention and she chuckled, kissing your forehead softly before grasping your hand and pulling you up. She lifted you into her arms as if you weighed nothing and you quickly wrapped your legs around her waist.

Inside you were placed gently onto the warm bed she had been sleeping in. You were almost jealous that she got to lay in this while you suffered in the dark, cold room for days at a time.

“Alright, your bath is all set, pup.” She guided you with her, letting you step in after she removed your few clothing. You were given small toy ducks and a tiny boat to play with, all while the bubbles filled the tub.

You played with the small toys, giggling to yourself as you made the boat sink and return back to the surface. Carol would occasionally splash you with a few droplets of water before you did the same, causing her shirt to adorn wet stains. She had a small cup where she’d pour the same water onto your head to wash out any soap until you were finally done.

Suddenly, you felt a small tug on your nipples. You looked up quickly, a gasp escaping your lips while she stared at the perky skin.

“You’d look so cute with nipple piercings, ya’ think?” You gulped nervously, already imagining the amount of pain you’d have to go through just to satisfy her curiosity.

“Maybe you can have little bells on ‘em so Daddy knows where you are at all times.” She pinched the hardened nerves, running her tongue against them and bringing shivers to your spine.

“D-do I have a choice?” She threw her head back humorously, laughing to herself as you bit your lip. You stared up at her with pleading eyes, hoping you’d be left off for just this once.

“Oh, puppy, of course, you do! You can comply to everything I say like a good little mutt, or you can endorse a punishment like a bad, bad pup.” You eyed the cage in the corner of the room, already feeling the harsh metal aching on your skin. You imagined the pain it would cause to your sensitive bones.

“So, you choose: would you like to be Daddy’s good girl and listen, or would you like to be a naughty baby, hm?” You shook your head with a sniffle, blinking away the tears that she helped to wipe away. She grinned when noticing your sadness, it seemed to thrill her to a great extent.

“I’ll be good, Daddy, I will. Please don’t put me back in the room, I want to stay with you!” She hummed in response, stroking your cheek before smacking it lightly.

“That’s what I thought, puppy.”

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x female reader #carol danvers x y/n #carol danvers x reader smut #carol danvers x you #carol danvers #carol danvers smut #captain marvel angst #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel x you #captain marvel #captain marvel smut #captain marvel fluff #captain marvel x reader smut

[meetmymouth]

Harry follows one of his friends outside as they’re looking for an appropriate place to smoke, one hand holding his glass of whiskey as the other finds comfort in one of his pockets. It’s hot in the marquee, so the sweet July breeze outside is more than welcome on his face.

So far, he’s taken a few photos with people he’s never seen in his life, and Harry hopes that the bride and the groom aren’t bothered.

He should be able to say no.

He really should.

Though, surrounded by friends and family, Harry feels like it’d be too much to say no to someone who obviously admires him and his music— admires him enough to want a photo with him.

His friend says something, and he laughs because he does, and he takes a sip from his drink, watching the flame from the lighter lick the end of his friend’s cigarette.

He’s enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the countryside when he sees a shadow, and feels another presence behind them.

He turns around, somehow nervous and on edge, and notices her pink dress before her beautiful face.

She is beautiful, but he lets out a tiny sigh, and says, “Sorry, would it be okay if we didn’t take a photo?”

All three of them stop— his friend lets out a breath, and the woman’s perfectly shaped eyebrows raise in question— somehow offended at his request.

There’s another moment of silence before she takes a step back, and Harry notices she’s also holding a cigarette.

“Uh,” she lets out a laugh, like she knows something he doesn’t. “I wasn’t going to ask for a photo. Your trousers…”she looks down at his outfit even though she’s next to him, therefore can’t really see the back of his trousers. “They’re ripped.”

“What?”

And, what?

“Your trousers, below the jacket. Ripped.“

Harry hears his friend laugh, and he also feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment. His whole body feels numb, though he can feel the ringing in his ears.

“Shit—” he murmurs, hand going to his back. He feels himself until his hand touches the ripped area. “God, I’m…really sorry.”

She shrugs. “Yeah, you should be.”

“I don’t normally— I’m not bothered normally, it’s just— it’s not my wedding and I kind of feel bad enough that people have been… you know?” He cannot help his rambling, words rolling off his tongue, though he doesn’t know if he’s making sense or not.

She looks like she’s bored. He guesses.

Though, he notices her checking him out, only a mere second before her eyes find his again.

“I get that. I guess.”

“I’m sorry. Again.”

“All good. I thought you might want to know, yeah?”

He turns to his friend, and notices him on his phone.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He hisses.

He hears her laugh.

He doesn’t even listen to the man next to him list all the excuses why he hasn’t said anything, only hears the laugh she lets out.

He finds her gaze, and she bites her bottom lip.

“I guess,” she says, tone a tad softer than when she first came up to him. “I was one of the few who were looking…there.”

And well.

Harry’s always loved weddings.

#byeeeeeee #idk what this is lmao #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry imagine #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry fluff #harry blurb #harry #styles #harry’s house #love on tour #harry styles x y/n #harry fanfic #wedding!harry

[momotorin]

shared blankets (but we'll be sleeping on different beds)

nerd!momo x campus crush!sana | fluff, smut | men dni!

thank you so much for @jeongmosimp 's amazing request and idea (p.s: sorry it took so long but here it is!)

in the first week of university, momo, in her thickly rimmed glasses, goes up to the room assigned to her.

god, it hurt her ears as 'lovefool' by the cardigans was on full blast, by some shitty speaker as it was rumbling the ground with its bass.

she sighs, knocking— goes on for once, twice, until she opens the door with her left hand, sneakily going in the room.

momo finds a figure, dancing with all her heart. the girl; hair tied up nicely with a pink hair tie, in a tank top, and the shortest shorts she's ever seen. momo stands on the doorframe in utter shock, some sort of a star struck daze, perhaps, as she assumed that the woman only comes from her dreams.

the song comes to an end, and suddenly all is silent, the woman in front of momo sighs.

"AH!" the woman says in shock, finding momo and her luggage, standing just right there— hands in pockets, eyes staring right at her.

"oh, um," momo quickly reached out for the keys she was given with and dangles it in front of her face. "1129?"

sana stands still for a while, trying to recollect what she had done in the past minute that might've been embarrassing, as this was literally: "oh, roommate, right," she laughs awkwardly, as she ditches the broom to make way and accommodate her future (cute) roommate. "come right in," she says. "sorry if i..."

the other girl chuckles, "don't worry about it."

"well- um," sana leads her right in, going to the common area of the room. "your room's on the left."

"thanks," the other girl smiles. oh good heavens, how this woman saves. "um, i’m momo," she reaches out for her hand, asking for a handshake. who was sana to deny? "i study aeronautical engineering."

as if she couldn't get any better. sana takes her hand, gladly, as she flashes the woman a smile. "minatozaki sana," sana shook momo's hand. "i study psychology."

momo retracts her hand from sana's warm one, and hoped that it wouldn't be over.

"well," momo sighs. "i guess, see you later? i'll set up my stuff and i can help later cleaning the area."

sana chuckles, "oh, no, no," she refutes. "don't even bother. you just moved. take a rest after you set up your room, hm?"

momo just nods, smiling as she went into her room. it wasn't the most spacious, but it had a full sized bed, surprisingly new, and the windows were shining a light directly to the tables and the bed. there were a couple of shelves, a sizable closet, and it was perfect, as momo can put it.

she's in it for a good and long time.

for the first few days, momo was literally stuck on doing things inside of the room.

“hey,” mina greets from outside of their dorm door. “no roommate yet?”

“uh, no,” sana chuckles as she lets her friend in the common area. “she actually moved two or three days ago? i'm not really sure,” sana pauses for a little while to recollect her memory. “but yeah, she's a sweetheart. she's just quite shy.”

momo, half awake and half asleep, goes to the bathroom, not minding to pass by sana and mina.

“see,” sana chuckles at the sight of her. “she's just…”

“yeah,” mina inched closer to sana, whispering— “you like her.”

mina received a huge laugh and a playful slap from sana. “don't be silly,” sana says. “i’ve only known her for three days.”

those days turned into a week, a month, and two months.

it was midterms week, momo's extra extra stressed finishing her midterm plates and equations on the dining table. sana just came home from her last night class, and sighs as she goes in, her body being consumed by the warmth of the dorm.

she smiles at the sight of momo, focused, eyebrows clinched together in the middle as she's so careful in making that line with her ruler. after she finishes that line, sana says, “hey.” that shocked momo, and she's just glad that she got her micron pen out of the way of her plate. “busy night?” sana asked.

“yeah,” momo chuckles. “sorry i have my things all over the table,” momo comes up to fix the other side of the table, leaving some room for sana. she knows that sana would also study at the same space, for some reason she doesn't know. a change of scenery, she guesses. “just finished your classes?”

sana hums as she takes out her books from her bag. “finished my first midterms test,” she says. “you?”

“oh, well,” momo just sighs as she continues on her plate. “this,” she says, pointing to the one she's doing, “and this,” she points to the one on her left. “and this.” she points to the one on her right. “quite a handful, but i’ll finish them soon.”

“don't rush it,” sana smiles. “i know you'll do just fine. or better, you'll do great.”

momo asks “why'd you say so?”

“you're working hard for it, momo,” sana says. “plus, i always find you like this, you know? i feel like we never really talked because you're always so focused. not that it's a bad thing, but i just really wanna know my roommate.”

momo just nods, “what do you wanna know then, sana?”

“dunno,” sana chuckles as she opens her textbook. “what's your favorite color?”

momo smiles as she draws another line on her intricate plate. “purple. yours?”

“pink.” sana smiles. “why'd you study aeronautics?”

“i like planes,” momo chuckles. “my dad used to take me to the airstrip and wondered how they could do that, so, i ended up here. what about you, sana?”

“oh, um,” sana hesitates to answer. “it’s just an interest of mine.”

“really?”

“yeah, but,” sana sighs. “it’s a family thing. my mom's a general surgeon, and my dad is an optometrist, and naturally they want their kid to be like them as well. i don't hate psychology, it was something i liked too, but it's just that…”

“you forced yourself to like it?” momo asked.

“kinda like that,” sana sighs. “but en-”

“what do you really want to be?”

“kindergarten teacher,” sana says, flipping her book to the next page. “or a writer, something like that.”

they fall into silence for a few seconds, as momo started to get concentrated on the line she was drawing.

“did you eat already, sana?” momo suddenly asks.

“um- oh, not yet, actually.”

momo then stands up, gets two cups of ramen, heats the water, and sits by the kitchen counter, waiting for the water to boil.

sana just lets herself admire momo for a minute— hair tied up neatly in a bun, thick black rimmed glasses, and in her hello kitty pajamas, sana swears she never saw a person look that good.

in her head, sana giggles at the sight, but she fawns away the moment momo looks at her.

sana, under the dim dinner light, concentrated on her notes. momo can't help but stare at the woman just in front of her, the woman who shares her dorm with, the woman whom she wishes to do gestures for.

the water kettle clicks to a finish, and momo reaches for it, pouring generously on both cups.

“do you like your ramen spicy, sana?” momo asks, arguing whether she'd put more seasoning on sana's cup.

she sees sana nod, smiling at her. cute. momo shrugs at the thought and just finishes hers and sana's cup of ramen.

she puts sana's ramen just beside the book she was reading, “eat up,” momo says. “you wouldn't be able to remember anything if you don't have energy.”

“thanks,” sana smiles. “this is perfect, thank you.”

“no worries.” momo eats hers on the kitchen counter, afraid to spill on some of her hard work on engineering plates.

their questions go over and over the whole night, keeping both their mouths and brains busy. sana's afraid that she could only remember momo; who has two dogs, but has four family dogs, likes to dance, secretly likes natto, makes a really good cup of instant ramen, likes aloe yogurt, and watches the korean tv show the penthouse.

momo wakes up to a fridge filled with a pack of aloe yogurt with a note: thanks for the ramen last night, i’ll make sure to ace my exams, momo!

oh, such sweetness.

“what do you mean you're roommates with minatozaki sana?” jeongyeon yoo asks, quite the ramble as she was also munching away her lunch.

“um.. yeah?” momo casually answers.

“you're such a lucky person.” jeongyeon sighs.

“what for?” momo chuckles. “i mean, it's just sana.”

“what do you mean that it's just sana?!” jeongyeon exclaimed. “dude. half of the school population literally wants her despite her being just a freshman. that itself is crazy.”

“no, i mean-” momo cuts herself off at the realization. “she's nice, she studies with me, and we get along well…”

“yeah, that's sana,” jeongyeon smiles. “kind, nice, sunshine and all.”

“how'd you know?” momo asks curiously.

“girlfriend's best friend,” jeongyeon chuckles. “it's not that hard to find people if you go around, you know,” she nudges at momo. “and before you say it, no, going around is not going to different libraries. the uni’s big. it literally has like 14 streets you could visit, just go and have a little fun.”

“you know i don't do ‘fun,’ jeongyeon.” momo rolled her eyes.

“you can,” jeongyeon chuckled. “you just need a little party for you to do ‘fun.’”

sana's fun wasn't what jeongyeon was talking about.

“momo?” sana knocks on her door, and momo removes her earphones to hum loudly. “can you come out? i need a little help wi-”

“hey,” momo opens her door, adjusting her glasses. “what is it?”

they both walk to the living room, with a projector laying just on top of their coffee table.

“oh,” momo takes a look at it, and she wonders, “where'd you get this from?”

“there was a yard sale,” sana scratches her nape as she just watched momo set it up. “just a few blocks away from here, and it was ten dollars! ten! dollars!”

momo laughs, getting it to work, wiping down the lens with her hoodie, “that's a fucking steal,” she says, and the lens fires up the initial blue screen. “and it's great, look.” she points to the broken display, as it shoots to different places. “but we can't set it up here.” momo pouts, finding a good place to point the projector to.

“wanna do it in my room?” sana smirks, like having an ulterior motive, jokingly, of course.

momo stares at her, laughing, “if you say so.”

a few fixes and ‘careful’s from sana later, momo has set up the projector in sana's room.

“there,” momo sighs, sitting down as she hands sana the hdmi cable. “just plug this in somewhere and it should work.”

sana takes it, and plugs it to her laptop, “whoa!” sana's eyes sparkled at the simple projection of her screen to her wall. “it's big.”

“well, yeah,” momo grunts, standing up to go back to her room. “just call me if you need h-”

“momo,” sana calls out. “what's your favorite movie?”

“um,” momo's hand was gripping sana's door knob, wanting to stay, but also wanting to get out. “monsters inc?”

sana laughs, looking at momo, “okay then,” she searches it up, “come,” she chuckles, patting the spot beside her. “if you have free time, stay.”

momo smiles as she takes the spot beside sana, hesitant, so she leaves a little space as sana searches for the movie.

momo observes— the delicate flow of sana's hair down to her shoulders, the curve of her upper lips, the ridge of her nose holding her eyeglasses (momo figured that sana uses contacts in uni), the little cleft of her chin, and momo has never seen such a sight: one that she wants to consume her, wholly and fully.

momo snaps out of her daze when sana shifts closer to her, and the movie starts with the familiar disney film intro.

it became a usual thing. every saturday, sana and momo spend their time cooped up in sana's bed, watching some movie, every week alternating from sana's favorites, to momo's favorites, and so on.

i mean, momo couldn't miss out on a good movie, and sana just wants to put the projector in use, so it's definitely a win for the both of them.

but sana definitely thinks it's a win: she hears momo blabber about things when they watched interstellar, it left her in awe that she couldn't explain. momo's just so soft, and she just wants to launch herself at her fluff to listen to her talk about interdimensional places. she wants movie night to be forever, so that she could listen to momo, again and again, until they end up in her blankets, cooped up into a ball as they hug each other.

momo doesn't admit to herself that she likes to cuddle with sana. she tells herself that she doesn't like the way sana presses her head on her chest, the way sana mumbles different words on her sleep (sometimes even her name), and the way that sana pulls her closer, holding tight at the back of her clothes. but in her sleep, momo wraps her arms around sana, enveloping her to a warm hug, that sana ends up sleeping on her chest, and her head on top of her hair.

but she doesn't flinch, she doesn't falter, and she just lets it happen— the warmth, the light brush of their pajamas on each other, the smell of sana's blankets, and she realizes, she wants to lock them in this pocket of time, the quiet, the calm, and something momo can't put a word for just yet.

sana always wakes up first, trying to get a sight of momo, tracing her eyebrows, caressing her cheek, running a finger on her nose bridge to its center; sana thinks it's fucking stupid, for all she is, she's just momo's roommate and they just watch movies every saturday, that's why they end up like this. sana pretends to fall asleep to wake up to momo's pancakes, and sana smiles about something she can't put a name on just yet.

momo, as intelligent as she is, is shit at parties.

she doesn't know how to play beer pong, she can't command a dare, and she can't handle shit. well, “holy fuck,” jeongyeon says, herding a half-sober, half-drunk momo from one of the couches. “you're smashed. what did you do?”

“jeongyeon!” she exclaimed, almost kissing the woman who falters away from her touch. she pouts. “jeongyeon..”

“what the hell happened to you?”

“dunno,” momo laughs, drunk. “made me drink a lot with something that was definitely! not! beer! but to be honest, it was so good…”

jeongyeon fixes momo's eyeglasses, “is sana here?”

“dunno either!” momo laughs once more. “been finding her the whole night, too.”

momo's damned because her head hurts, and she doesn't know where to find her dorm key, she's so fucked when she tells sana she lost it.

“fuck,” momo slurs. “i need sana…”

“‘kay, damn,” jeongyeon says, getting her phone out to call her girlfriend, mina. “hey, honey,” she says over the phone. “momo's finding sana. where is she?”

“got home, i guess, honey,” mina says. “haven't found her the whole night either.”

“hmm, okay,” jeongyeon says. “ok, i’ll hang now. meet you later. love you, honey!”

mina chuckles over the phone, “love you too! be careful!”

“okay,” jeongyeon puts back her phone on her jean pocket, “she's not here. what if you try calling her?”

“i tried, ‘kay? she just isn't fucking answering…” momo slurs, taking another red cup of spiked coke, probably has something in it. “it's getting a little frustrating.”

“shh.” jeongyeon says, rubbing a hand on momo's back. “there you go.” she points at the east, somewhere on the stairs, where she sees sana go down with a couple of other girls. something in momo's stomach was bubbling, and she's sure that it's not acid reflux from the alcohol she's consuming.

momo makes a run for it, tapping sana's shoulder, “hey,” she says, mentally patting herself on the back for trying her best not to fall down the ground. “um, i just want to,” momo was lost in her train of thought as sana stares at her, her eyes, brown, glistening under the varying party lights, and the sound drowns, it fades, and “oh, yeah, the- um- dorm key. i kinda lost it. or i don't know, i-”

sana pulls her by the hand, going outside the party, almost slipping on the floor. “hey!” she says, panting, as they reach the end of a street. “what the hell?”

“you're fucking drunk,” sana holds her by the cheeks, checking all of her facial features that screams: i'm drunk, let's go home and let me kiss you! “what did you do, momo?”

“i lost,” momo chuckles. “by like… a lot! they made me chug down half a bottle of soju, sana. but you know, it's better than kissing someone else! i mean, apart from the fact that you could get this drunk,” momo chuckles again, now looking at her shoes. “so um, the dorm key?”

sana pulls momo closer by her jacket, running her hand to the inner pocket of it, opening one by the zipper on the left chest of it, and sana pulls, “here,” she hands momo the key. “you really wanna go home without me?”

“yeah,” momo says. honest, abrupt, and sure. “but i don't want to go home without you just yet.”

“great,” sana chuckles, and pulls her by the hand once more, going to her car. “i don't want to put you to bed so drunk. sober up with me.”

“hm, ‘kay,” momo carefully gets inside sana's car. they drive off to a highway, and momo can't make anything up because of the stupid headache, the lights, and sana. “oh, sana,” she suddenly blurts out, in all her drunkenness. “did you do the dares too? the kissing stuff.”

“oh, i don't lose like that,” sana laughs. “if you're worried about me kissing anyone, don't be. i’d rather be kissing someone else. how about you?”

“did everything but the kissing,” momo smiles at her. “i feel a little stupid when it comes to that part. i haven't had any kisses ye-”

“wanna try?” sana suddenly asks, finally stopping in front of a taco bell. she's just thankful that it's still open, but she's anticipating momo's answer.

“well, if it doesn't hurt,” momo inches closer to her, letting sana cup her cheek once more. “if it's you, then, g-”

sana captures her lips in a kiss, sweet, one tasting of strawberry, gin, soju, and some other punch flavor. momo thinks, feels, that it was nice: sana's lips were so soft against hers, and she can't help but pull her closer, holding her by the waist, just letting sana melt into her mouth.

they pull away, breathless, momo felt restless when sana pulled away.

“you're a fucking natural,” sana taps her shoulders. “c’mon, you need to have something warm or else you'd wake up with a bad headache.”

“i kinda want another one,” momo laughs, but sana's already cupping her cheek, pulling her closer to her breath, and momo latches onto her softness like she'd never felt before: like the sky on new year's eve, or a flying jet, just gliding through the highest of heights, one she knew she couldn't reach. “fuck,” momo sighs after the kiss, pulling away from sana as she smiles. “you're um-,” momo pauses as she goes down sana's car. “a good kisser. you're a good kisser, sana.”

“yeah,” sana wraps an arm on her shoulders, guiding her to the entrance of some taco bell. “and you're shit faced drunk.”

“yeah…” momo sighs, seeking comfort in sana's neck as she leans. “i hope i won't forget this.”

momo doesn't forget it. and fuck, the headache really came crashing into her.

“pick up,” momo nervously taps with her shoes, just outside the lecture hall. “jeongyeon!” she says over the phone, relief of confiding in someone.

“what the hell,” jeongyeon grunts over the phone. “what happened, momo?”

“i- um-,” momo sighs. “well you missed the first class, but yeah, um- can you meet me at the library later? there's something i need to tell and y-”

“yeah, yeah,” jeongyeon sighs. “you were drunk and did stupid shit… is it the first time you got drunk, momo?”

“no,” momo says. half lying, she did get drunk before (she guesses) “but it's the first time i got drunk and…”

“it's sana, isn't it?” jeongyeon laughs.

“yeah,” momo sighs. “but i need you to talk with me, okay? i can’t get this shit together.”

sana wakes up, tucked into her bed, with a hoodie and some sweatpants on, totally different from what she wore last night.

she also has a headache, one that can rip the center of her brain out. god, she remembers last night that she could have an exam about it and get an a+.

she looks at her nightstand, which has a note with a glass of water and hangover medicine: hey, sana, i changed you into your clothes (don't worry i didn't see you naked, plus, i was also fucking smashed even after taco bell) breakfast is on the table, and take the medicine after eating. hope you have a good day. — momo.

sana laughs. oh god, she's just so sweet: she made pancakes, some bacon, and didn't forget the syrup on the side.

if there's one thing sana wishes, for this to be a perfect morning, is that momo is beside her, also having the same breakfast, overspreading butter on her pancakes, taking a bite of it, as she holds her hand beneath the table.

she takes out her phone, calls her best friend, “mina, i think i'm liking momo a little too much. is it bad?”

“you're so down bad,” jeongyeon giggles as she takes a sip of her boba (definitely sponsored by momo). “just kiss her again, i guess.”

“the hell?” momo says. “i can’t just come up to her and kiss her. i mean, i'm not even sure if she likes me. she let me kiss her probably because she pities me since i haven't got my first kiss.”

jeongyeon laughs, “sana's not that dumb, momo. for all i know, sana's fucking smart. she's a president's lister.”

“yeah, i know that part,” momo sighs. “but you know, maybe she really just… was a good friend to me that she let me kiss her.”

“for a genius,” jeongyeon fixes momo's eyeglasses. “you're so damn stupid that it hurts me. you're also my friend. did i let you kiss me knowing that you're a full ass virgin? hell fucking no!”

“why do you have to be so loud,” momo half-screams, half-whispers. “but sana's nicer than you. she's the type to be nice enough to pity someone without a first kiss.”

“for fucks sake,” jeongyeon holds both momo's shoulders. “you're in love with sana. sana likes you around. sana likes you. hell, sana even loves you that much. trust me, ‘kay?”

“okay,” momo sighs. “so how do i tell her…”

instead of having a saturday movie night, momo invites sana to a restaurant downtown, somewhere a little far from their university. before being there, momo got into a panic: arguing with herself whether she'd keep her glasses or finally break in her contacts, well, she did the contacts instead, along with a dress shirt, carefully tucked inside her dress pants, and a blazer. well, it wasn't like she was going to work, but she just wanted to be at least presentable.

sana comes two minutes after their arranged time, in a black dress, hair nicely straightened out. momo has seen sana for so many times already, but she's never not left in awe.

sana chuckles, “hi,” she greets as momo pulls the other chair for her. “oh, thanks,” momo lets her sit down before coming back to her side. “sorry if i was late.”

“no worries,” momo says. “go order, it's my treat.”

“no way,” sana chuckles as she looks at the menu. “it's a date. we should split the bill.”

momo pauses. it's already a date? “well,” momo giggles as she looks through the menu. “if you say so.”

momo orders for the both of them, and their food arrives shortly after.

until then, sana breaks the silence, “so,” sana says as she turns her fork to eat her pasta. “why'd you ask me on a date, momo?”

momo sighs, well, it's good that she should know, “i-um,” momo pauses as she thinks of how she can say, “well, i figured out a couple of things on my own, and found out that i like you.”

sana laughs, “i like you too,” she says, looking into momo's eyes, sparkling, bright, under the dim light of the restaurant: sana has never seen such a sight, one full of adoration, a reciprocated feeling and something very sure. “i guess i liked you since you came into the room.”

“oh,” momo laughs in relief. “what? wait… since i went inside our dorm?”

“yeah,” sana says. “i mean, what's not to like about you? you're smart, you're cute, you're caring, so…”

“oh, sana,” momo chuckles, holding sana's hand that was on the table, fiddling with it. “i guess we should just take it slow. we have all the time in the world.”

sana likes that it's just them: momo's little blabber about planes, sana's little touches on momo's hand, momo's glances that shows all of her feelings, and it all falls down into place as it is just the two of them, momo and sana.

they go home after a couple of drinks, not drunk, just buzzed, and momo held sana's hand the whole time as they drove to their dorm.

as soon as they arrive, sana pulls momo in a deep, sweet kiss.

“hey,” momo giggled as they pulled away. “shoes, baby.”

“oh, right.” sana blushes, both from the fact that she's so excited to kiss momo, and from the nickname momo has said. they go into their dorm, shoes off, hand in hand, and momo pulls her back for a kiss, leading sana to her room.

in a heated pace, sana clasps and removes momo's blazer, dropping it on her floor. sana trails her kisses to momo's jaw, to the crevices of her exposed collarbone as she slowly unbuttons momo's dress shirt, slow but wanting as momo leans to her, moaning like asking more.

“sana,” momo says in barred breaths. “fuck, how do i say this,” momo sighs as she guides sana to her bed. “i- um- have a-”

sana laughs, tracing her hand on her clothed thigh. “i know,” she whispered. “i know that, baby.”

sana starts to palm momo's hard on, printing on her trousers.

“i can’t help but notice,” sana says, still moving her hands up and down momo's erection. “you're so big,” sana chuckles lowly as she ghosts her fingers on the button of momo's trousers. “you don't think i don't stare at you when you have those sweatpants on, baby? you don't think that i can’t hear you when you jerk off?”

“fuck,” momo moans out, as sana removes her pants along with her boxers, and her length springs out to meet her abs. “sana…”

“so big,” sana glides her finger on the tip, collecting momo's precum. “it can't wait to fill me up, hm?”

momo squirms, something unfamiliar brews in her stomach, a want, a need, something sana can only bring out, and she pulls sana to lock with her lips once more, as she pumps her hand on momo's length.

“so needy,” sana laughs as they pull away from each other, but she keeps a steady pace on momo's length. “undress me.”

momo doesn't need another word, and immediately goes to sana's back to remove the zipper of her dress, latching her mouth with hers, sloppily inserting her tongue to touch sana's, tasting her fully, as sana rises above her, straddling her abdomen with need.

“you're so fucking hot,” momo moans out, unclasping sana's delicate black lace bra. “mmh.” she hums, latching on sana's hardened nipple as she kneads on the other nub.

sana's hands flung to momo's hair, holding a certain grip, making momo suck on her tits further. sana makes momo pull away, and momo breathes heavily.

“momo, please,” sana whines at the pressure building between her thighs, seeping to momo's abdomen. “i‘ve been so wet,” she says. “please.”

“fuck,” momo hooks her fingers underneath the waistband of sana's panties and helps her remove it, the wetness of her pussy now directly on her stomach. sana lowers, her wetness gliding on momo's cock, coating every ridge, every vein, as she helps momo enter inside her sopping, tight hole. “so fucking tight.” momo grunts, holding onto sana's waist as she bounced, up and down, taking the pace slow, wanting to take momo's inches carefully.

momo then sits up, holding sana closer to her, as she sinks on her length, moaning at the stretch. momo pulls sana once more into a kiss, one that was slow, “take your time, darling,” she whispers. “we have all night.”

sana smiles, bouncing up and down on momo, using her shoulders as her leverage.

“fuck,” momo grunts as she pushes sana down, her hole clenching. momo flips them over, not pulling out of sana, and she carefully gets sana into fours. she kisses the delicate skin of sana's back as she thrusted, holding onto her waist tightly, pushing into the deepest parts of her and sana arches, letting momo use her. “g’nna cum, baby?” momo's pace inside becomes faster as she leans into sana, her hand travelling to her clit to circle it. sana clenches on momo's length and momo lets out a grunt, pushing inside sana's tightness.

“more, ah,” sana thrusts back on momo's pace. “inside me, please.”

“mmh,” momo lightly slaps sana's ass as their skin touches. “such a good little slut for me.”

sana smirks, as she also tightens around momo's length, coming without warning.

momo holds onto her, going in and out at such a crazy pace that made sana's eyes roll back on her eyelids. momo's seed spurts inside of sana's walls, coating every side of it, and she pulls out, quite spent, as she lays sana down slowly.

she places one last kiss on sana's pussy, lapping up the remaining juices, careful to not overstimulate her. she goes up to see sana, her arms opened, ready for momo to succumb to.

momo sighs, looking at sana “sorry, i-”

“no, momo, i told you to… so it's okay,” sana chuckles, fixing momo's hair. “plus, i'm on the pill.”

“m’kay,” momo smiles as she closes her eyes, being fully consumed by sana's afterglow. “oh fuck.” momo suddenly sits up, sprinting to her bathroom, removing her contact lenses.

sana chuckles as she follows momo shortly after, “everything alright, darling?”

“yeah,” momo says, putting the contact lenses on their case. “just the contact lenses, i forgot that i have them today,” momo laughs. “do you need anything? like hoodies or something… it's quite cold here.”

“i need a you, kinda,” sana jokes. “but yeah, your hoodie would be great.”

momo smiled as she went outside the bathroom, pulling a fresh hoodie from her closet. “here,” momo giggled, helping sana pull it over on herself. “warm enough?”

“not quite,” sana pulls momo to the bed, hugging her tightly, as she kissed momo's forehead. “you're just too damn cute.”

“no, you're even cuter,” momo chuckles as she looks up at sana. “but you know, we kinda need to brush our teeths first before sleeping…”

“god, you're also toothbrush police,” sana jokingly rolls her eyes as they went to the bathroom once more, and momo reaches out for a spare toothbrush. “i could've just gotten my toothbrush from my r-”

“no,” momo held her hand as she brushed her teeth with the other. “your room's too far.”

“so dramatic too,” sana laughs as she puts some toothpaste on her new toothbrush. “my room is literally twelve steps away from yours.”

momo shrugs it off and says, “still far.”

that's how they end up on momo's bed, curled up into each other, in this little pocket of space and time.

momo looks up at her familiar empty ceiling as sana lays her head on momo's chest.

“you know,” sana looks up at momo. “i really like it when you sleep with me in my bed.”

“i’ll do you one better,” momo shifts, looking deeply into the pool of sana's honey brown eyes in the moonlight seeping through momo's windows. “i like it better when you sleep on my bed.”

“yeah, really?” sana chuckles. “wanna bet on who has the comfier bed?”

“oh, it'll be mine, baby,” momo giggles and pulls sana by the waist as they lay on their sides. “i have way more pillows than you do. plus,” she pulls out a big pompompurin plush toy behind her. “i have a little friend.”

“that’s just cheating,” sana pouts. “okay, you win, you do have the better bed.”

“hm, i’d still beg to argue.” momo says. “if i got you in any bed, i think i’d be able to sleep fine.”

“why?”

“don't you think i can't feel what you do to me in my sleep?”

sana was stunned. “h-how…?”

“i'm never a heavy sleeper, darling,” momo says. “and you've taught me to be so that i could feel how you touch my face when i sleep. and you mumble my name in yours, how cute.”

sana was blushing, unable to speak, now that her biggest guilty pleasure was known.

“you can do that to me now, while i'm still awake,” momo chuckles. “i think i’d like that if you'd do it forever.”

"if you say so," sana pulls momo closer, letting momo now lay on her chest. she puts a hand on her cheek, brushing it on the soft skin, feeling the warmth of momo's face against her cold hands. "god," sana chuckles as she runs her finger across momo's eyebrow, and she sees momo giggle, teeth out, as she looks at her: full of spark, one that can compete with how the sun shines. "you really know how to make me melt, don't you?"

#twice scenarios #twice imagines #twice fluff #twice smut #momo twice #momo imagines #momo fluff #momo smut #sana twice #sana imagines #sana fluff #sana smut #sana and momo #samo twice #samo imagines #samo fluff #samo smut #i love samo

[giasfolklore]

DADDY’S HOME

꒰ synopsis ꒱ྀི being a beautiful freshman in college isn’t fun at all when all these young men in your class just want a hit or chance, until you meet someone who rocks your world upside down.

꒰ content warnings ꒱ྀི porn with plot, nsfw (17+), fem! reader, fingering (f! receiving, slight domination, mainly praise, unprotected sex, creampie, virginity breaking, confessions.

｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡

ﾟ｡⋆ when you entered college you never knew your life would be so complicated.

until you met the one and only toji fushiguro.

he was one of the third years and you were still a freshman, one day you decided to get lunch from the canteen because you didn’t really bring lunch so as you reached there you stood on the waiting line as the other students were buying food too, you see a large figure overshadowing the area you were standing on.

you turn around to land your eyes on the most the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen with the perfect chiseled abs, he seemed like god’s favourite, you turned back to the line again and blushed and told yourself to focus as the line got small your turn eventually came and you asked for a bagel as you saw you didn’t even get much money, shit that’s one way to feel embarrassed.

the cashier said “ that’ll be 10 dollars ” you only had 5 on you and you pleaded that you’ll get the other 5 by tomorrow the cashier asked you to get the fuck out of the line as you slowly moved out, the man who was standing behind you said “ is that how you talk to a woman? ” furiously and the cashier was confused “ ah I- she didn’t have the money, she shouldn’t be in the line. ” he explained, “ she’s new here, that means she’s new to everything, I’ll pay for it ” toji takes the bagel and throws the money on the cash counter.

“ hey? miss?.. here is the bagel you wanted, sorry about the guy he doesn’t really know how to talk. ” toji explains. “ oh it’s okay! really thankyou so much for this, I promise I’ll pay you back for this tomorrow. ” you plead “ it’s on the house. ” he gives you a sweet smile and walks away.

and that’s how you both met for the first time.

˚ ✧ ──────────────────────

as time passed you both became friends and with that toji even started liking you romantically and you? you always had the crush on him.

one day when you both were assigned together during a project and it went successful so toji’s friends threw a party at a bar and as toji’s good friend you were invited.

you got home quickly made the bed, cooked for night and went to the living room for getting your makeup done, you lived alone. it was a small 1 bhk house and when you were done with your makeup you checked how you look, you did basic makeup not too much foundation, not too much concealer, not too much mascara or lipstick, just basic makeup.

you got dressed quickly, you were a pink glittery dress which touched your curves well and they were hugging your ass good and you look like a princess in that, and with those legs anyone could be in love.

you called on the cab and as you reached the party you found toji already there but he looked like he didn’t even like parties, more like he would go home, study and rest.

“ hey..toji! ” said the excited you. “ oh hey.. oh you look- “ weird? biggest crap in the world? let me guess a clown?- you were interrupted by toji’s sudden choice of words “ perfect. ” you smiled at him and sat beside him peacefully until haibara decided to grab you by your wrists “ come on get up! you have to dance !! ” he screamed. “ ahaha okay… okay. ” you got up and you swayed against him as a little time passed you didn’t even notice when you were grinding against him.

nanami forced you to take shots and you did, but a little way too much that you started feeling dizzy on a different level, NEWSFLASH !! you’re a virgin and this is your first time even drinking, you got up from the bar’s table and you felt yourself almost collapsing as your eyes were way too heavy, but instead a strong pair of hands catched you and you looked, it was toji, the toji you fell for.

“ that’s it! I’m taking her home. ” he explained himself with you in his arms almost sleepish and took you out of the bar immediately and then he took his car and put you on the backseat, you were really very sleepy to notice.

he drove and you felt a strong pair of hands picking you up again and moments later you were put on your bed. “ take care, okay? call me if you need anything! ANYTHING! ” as he left you managed to catch his wrist “ t-toji? please don’t leave me, stay with me please? ” uhm.. he sat down and said “ you shouldn’t have drunk so much when you know you are a lightweight. ”

“ I never got drunk, this was the first time. ” he smiled and patted your head. “ t-toji I-

“yeah? ”

“ I love you. ” holy freaking caramel you said it, you ACTUALLY SAID IT!!

“ it’s uh okay I get it if you uh- “ I love you too angel. ” he kissed you with passion and you held onto his shoulders as you kissed him back.

“ I want you. ”

“ say it again and I’m yours. ”

“ I want you toji. So bad- you didn’t even realise when he lifted up your dress and took off your white laced panties in a flick of a finger as he kissed your wet cunt.

“~ damn baby, so wet for me? ” he exclaimed. “ yes baby only for you! always. ” holy shit you looked like a tasty little doll.

before you could react his teeth dug into the soft skin on the side of your neck, tears stung your eyes as you could feel a purple bruise forming on the delicate piece of flesh.

he takes off your dress completely along with the bra now fully exposing your chest purple hickeys bloom across your chest as toji makes his way from shoulder to shoulder pinching bouts of delicate skin between his teeth just with that he starts sucking on your right nipple just to play with the other one and then he does the same to the other one.

he goes down and touches your wet like water soft pussy before you could process what was happening, his tongue flicked between your folds like a man starving. Immediately, you dropped to your elbows as your body shivered in heavenly pleasure. he threw your plush thighs over his shoulders as he reached out to intertwine his hands with yours.

“I had to see if you tasted as delicious as you looked~”

your legs were trembling on a next level as his tongue circled your clit like a lion going in for the kill. your hands tightened against his as small mewls and whines fell from your lips. as your back hit the wooden table beneath you, your body trembled as a thin layer of sweat covered your skin. toji then took the swollen bud between his lips, sucking lightly. Your eyes shot open as you release soft moan. 

when you tried to pull your hands away, toji’s eyes met yours in a threatening glance as his tongue flicked over your exposed nub again and again. The pounding of your heart was drowned out by the slick, lewd noises coming from your cunt as the love of your life feasted. the arousal in your stomach began to coil up tightly.

“t-toji p-please slow down a little. ”

your hands moved to try and grab at the raven locks on his head but toji was too quick as he snatched up your wrists and pinned them down to the bed. the honeyed arousal dripped from his chin as your orgasm crashed into you without warning. the bed shook as his tongue sent tremors of white-hot pleasure throughout your body.

“t-toji!” You gasped as your thighs threatened to close around his head. toji’s hands moved from your wrists down to your thighs to force them open as his assault against your clit continued. the overstimulation made your brain foggy as you were desperate to catch your breath. your chest heaved as your hands tangled into the silky locks on his head. 

toji was relentless as he pawed at your plush hips and thighs. he was devouring you whole as your second orgasm of the night was ripped away. he held you close as he worked you through it. as your body trembled, you sat up to see your honeyed arousal dripping from his chin as he licked his lips. the sight alone nearly had your teeth biting through your bottom lip. 

before you could properly recover, toji flipped your body over with one hand as the other unbuckled his belt. the loud chime of his belt buckle hitting the wooden floor rang in your ears as his fingertips gently trailed up your spine.

“ my delicate angel, you’re like a flower blowing in the summer evening breeze. angel, I promise to cherish you, but..

toji let out a low chuckle as he leaned forward to whisper seductively in your ear as he pulled your hair back, tightly wrapping it around his hand before continuing.

“ tonight I must devour you.. my sweet angel. ”

in a matter of seconds he’s inside your pussy walls the drag of his cock is delicious, hitting that special spot at just the right angle from the way he has you laid out on the couch, both legs thrown over his shoulder with your head propped up on a cushion.

your nails find its way to his neck and then strands of his hair pulling him from your neck, and a sloppy kiss being shared the second after. he tasted.. uh well considering where his mouth went before.

you tug on his hair, his cock hitting your spot perfectly at this angle as he kept a tight grip on your thighs. you are unable to answer his question and lay your head down onto his shoulder in embarrassment.

“ g’nna cum soon ” you whimper, your head hitting the wall and he nibbles at the center of your neck.

“ ah fuck.. cum for me my little angel! ” you could feel he was close too. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the empty halls of your home. watching the jiggle of your ass against his abdomen nearly sent toji over the edge.

“ m’ close toji. ”

when your hand moved back to press against him, he quickly snatched your wrist and pinned it against your back.

“ me too, sweetheart. together, okay ? ”

all you could manage was a decent nod as your gummy walls clenched around him. toji’s thrusts quickly became sloppy as your third orgasm of the night crashed into you. your eyes rolled back into your skull as the air in your lungs seemed to disappear. clear cum squirted out from your abused hole. looking at the mess you made caused toji to lose all composure he had as he wrapped his arm around your throat, holding you in a headlock as he pumped you full.

“ good girl, take everything daddy gives you. don’t you dare waste a single drop. ”

he chuckled in your ear before standing up and admiring the creamy ring you created around the base of his cock. toji took his time pulling out, occasionally giving you small thrusts just to make sure all of his cum stayed inside. meanwhile, your body felt like a pile of mush on the dining table as he gently turned you over onto your body. a small groan of protest left your lips as your eyes squeezed shut. the soreness was already settling in as toji peppered sweet kisses across your collarbones.

“ you did wonderful, my sweetie. should we run a bath for you?”

your bullied pussy fluttered in response as your eyes shot open and narrowed.

“ mhm. ” he took you in his arms and quickly took you for a bath as you were tired.

#toji x y/n #toji x you #jujutsu toji #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #dilf toji #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu sorcerer

[seoafin]

dog days are over | chapter eight

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): gojo word count: ~9.6k

fic masterlist read on ao3

“No need to look so nervous! Loosen up!”

You try your best to smile, despite the nerves bundled in your stomach. “Thank you for inviting me out, Ikeda-san.”

She beams at you, opening the menu in front of her. You stare at her glossy, perfectly shaped nails and the smooth skin of her hands. You remember the softness of them. Still, there is no ring on her finger.

“Please, call me Meiko. And of course! Don’t tell Gojo and Geto, but I’ve always wanted to talk to you.”

Surprised, you say, “Me?”

“The mysterious fourth classmate of Jujutsu High’s 2008 graduating class. I was always so curious about you.” She smiles, and you are drawn to the cherry red of her lipstick. “Especially since those two are notoriously tightlipped about you.”

You’re sure it’s because there’s nothing to talk about when it comes to you. 

“I’m not that interesting,” you say politely, because in your opinion, you really aren’t. “I’m sure you weren’t missing much.”

“Is that really what you think?” She leans forward, placing her chin on top of her threaded fingers. “I think you’re plenty interesting.”

Your face warms. Nobody’s ever called you interesting before. You meet her gaze. “Is there something you need, Ike—Meiko-san?”

She laughs. “Please, you’re so formal! No need for the honorific, you’ll make me self conscious. We’re nearly the same age! If I’m being honest, I just wanted to get to know you.”

“Because we have…” you consider her carefully, “a lot in common?”

Once again, she bursts into laughter. It’s not mocking, but amused. “I thought maybe you’d feel a little more comfortable if we had…common ground.”

The common ground being…

Your face flushes with heat. “Is it…” you stare at the plate laid flat in front of you, stomach churning in distress, “obvious?”

You think back to every single semi public interaction with Suguru and Satoru. Maybe someone had caught a glimpse of Suguru’s knuckles brushing against yours, walking a little too close to you to be considered casual acquaintances. Maybe someone had seen Satoru draw you close to him. It hadn’t been discreet. Satoru’s never been discreet. Not enough. And now you’re paying the consequences.

Your palms go sweaty.

“Oh, it seems I’ve worried you,” Meiko looks concerned. “It was just a guess,” she murmurs gently, reaching out for your hand. Your heart starts with a jerk when her hand closes around you. “An inkling if you will. Woman’s intuition?”

They are soft. They smell like peach flavored hand lotion. Relief sweeps through you like a cool balm. “Oh,” you say breathlessly. “Thank god.” It slips out before you can help it.

“It’s rare to see Geto and Gojo so ruffled,” she chuckles. “Geto especially. I can never tell what he’s thinking with that smile of his…I just wanted to tease them a little, you know? Make them sweat.” She studies you, face sobering. “They hold you in the highest regard.”

The she winks, and calls over a server.

She must be a regular here because she easily strikes up a conversation with your server about the new seasonal specials. You then watch in slight awe as she proceeds to order one of every single thing on the menu.  

At your expression, she grins. “Instead of deliberating, isn’t it easier to just order the entire menu? That way we can try a little of everything. Besides, my palate gets a little bored with one plate.”

You blink. It strikes you as something Satoru would do. Order every single sweet on a menu to have his pick. The world of jujutsu elites and their bottomless bank accounts is truly something beyond your understanding.

“When Ieiri-san said you were coming to my reception as her plus one, I was surprised,” Meiko says. “I asked Gojo for your availability, and he said you were busy. Honestly,” she huffs, “selfish men are the worst!”

Satoru said you were busy? You wonder if he thought you’d somehow embarrass him and Suguru. Somehow, you can’t fault him. People just don’t seem to like you, and it’s probably your fault. “You wanted me to come?” 

“Of course I did.” She makes a face. “Instead I had to deal with that Kumiko. The nerve of her to seat herself at my table! In your seat!”

She scans you, as if to gauge the measure of your outrage. You simply only look at her, unblinking as your mind runs wild with all the possible ways to navigate the rest of this conversation without stepping on any landmines. You're not good at this. 

“I wasn’t aware you two were acquainted.”

Meiko’s smile turns tight. “We were briefly homeschooled together. Flower arranging class.” She spits out.

Her face clouds darkly.

You quickly change the subject. “I wonder when the food—”

Meiko’s eyes narrow. “ Wait. Are you acquainted with her?”

“J-Just briefly…”

“That snake,” her fingers fist tightly. “Of course she’d worm her way into your life!” She slams a fist onto the table. You wince. “It’s Geto isn’t it?” She scoffs. “I heard she got stood up by Gojo, but to think she was that shameless—”

“She likes him,” you say, a little more firmly than you intended. A look of surprise paints her face at your sudden boldness. You settle down, embarrassed. “I think…her feelings are genuine,” and it’s wrong to undermine them. The fondness in her eyes is real. You of all people understand her feelings. You love Suguru too.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize weakly.

Meiko exhales deeply. “No, I am. I always get carried away when it comes to her. We’ve always had bad blood between us. I suppose we’ve just never seen the world the same way. It’s always been her dream to be married to an influential man,” her voice turns bitter. “To be a perfect wife. To bear sons with cursed techniques. You could say we were bred for it. Disgusting pigs like that Zenin Naoya are a dime a dozen in jujutsu society. But unlike me, Kumiko was actually born with a powerful cursed technique.” There’s a bitter note to her voice. “What a waste.”

You don’t know what to say to her. You’ve never been good at knowing what to say at the right time. Not like Suguru.

But Meiko continues, “I suppose that’s why it’s a surprise to everyone she’s still not married. A lot of people think it’s because her clan elders are holding out for Gojo.” She snorts. “I guess everyone is expecting him to get married soon too, and have children. Lots of children.” She pauses, “Though I suppose they don’t mind the unmarried part as much as the not-impregnating-women part.” She raises an eyebrow. “They do make quite the pair, don’t they?”

You get the strongest feeling of deja-vu. 

Your face warms, looking at anything but Meiko. “I…”

“They work even better together too,” she remarks with a sigh. “Unfortunately, good looks can’t save them from their lousy personalities.” She shoots you a sympathetic look. 

L-Lousy personalities…

Clearing her throat, she says, “The Gojo clan elders and higher ups from Fukuouka are convening in Tokyo to try and convince Gojo to get married. To secure the Gojo line.”

You stare at her.

Meiko’s expression gives away to surprise. “You didn’t know?”

“Nobody mentioned it,” you answer truthfully. It clears up a lot of the happenings at the school. Perhaps they had come to Tokyo because Satoru refused to come to them. You knew Satoru’s less than enthusiastic feelings towards the burdens pushed on him by clan politics, such as marriage. A part of you can’t help but wonder if that had spurred Satoru and Suguru’s actions towards you. That and pity you suppose. In your first year, Satoru often used to remark that you seemed like you’d be the type to die alone. He wasn’t wrong. 

“The Zenin and Kamo’s want him to take a bride from their own families, but the Gojo clan’s own preference is someone like Sasaki. Someone from a distinguished lineage and a clan that’s not as powerful as one of the big three. They don’t want a strong clan interfering in interfamily politics. It’s all terribly political.” She makes a face. “They want him to consider mistresses from other families too. He’s not the only one. Geto’s been fielding all kind of offers too. His cursed technique is too valuable, and the Zenin’s have always been greedy.”

Of course the Gojo clan would want someone as delicate and refined as Sasaki. She’s beautiful, talented, and holds a revered cursed technique. It would be easy to fall in love with her, if the way Suguru talks highly of her means anything. 

You try to process the rest of the information, but all you can think of is marriage, marriage, marriage. Your head is spinning. Had your parents’ marriage been rife with such difficulties? This can’t be normal. You are confronted by the realization that the day Satoru and Suguru get married might be closer than you think. It throws your thoughts into disarray. All this time you’ve been unaware of the specifics and complexities of jujutsu society as it pertains to someone of Satoru and Suguru’s positions. They’ve never confided in you, and you think it’s for good reason. You’ve been so caught up in your own head that it never occurred to you that they might be troubled too. What a friend you’ve been lately. 

Spirits dampening, you lower your gaze. “Is…that right…”

Luckily, you’re saved from a more coherent answer because the food comes. A line of waiters approach your table. Twelve plates, large and small, are set down in quick succession. You stare at the colorful array of dishes. Another waiter makes an appearance with a bottle of expensive looking wine, pouring the two of you a glass. 

Meiko loads food onto your plate. “Eat up! You seem like you could use a good meal.”

“Thank you…” Eating saves you the trouble of having to speak when you don’t have the words. It’s easy. The food is delicious.”

“This is the restaurant that catered my food during the reception,” Meiko says, taking a bite of her ricotta peach salad. “I hope you enjoyed the food, then and now.”

“It’s delicious,” you admit with a smile. “Thank you for bringing me.”

A wide smile hangs on her face. “Of course! It was a terrible night, but it might have been a little better if you had been there.”

A warm flush creeps into your face. “I would’ve liked to have met you too,” you say shyly, hesitantly. You like Meiko, you think. It’s easy to like her, with her bold personality. There's a frankness to her that reminds you of Shoko. A familiarity. You wonder what she sees in you. You wonder if your night would’ve been different had you met her instead of Hideo.

You’re thoughtful. “You didn’t seem very happy at your wedding.” The words come out before you can stop it.

Meiko goes quiet. You quickly move to retract your statement, realizing it was insensitive of you to say something. “I’m so—”

Meiko lifts her wine to her lips and slams it down, emptied. “I didn’t want to get married. Not then, not ever. I thought my father had given up on it, after I scared the fifth suitor away.” She takes the bottle and nearly fills her glass to the brim. “Only to find out my father had given away my hand without my knowledge when I came back from visiting my mother in Hokkaido.” She takes a long drink. “To a politician of all people! It was horrible. I threw a fit, hoping to convince my father. You can imagine how well that went.”

You can’t imagine being unknowingly married, bound to spending the rest of your life with a stranger. It feels like the puzzle pieces are slowly coming together. Meiko’s sour expression throughout the entire reception. Shoko’s comment about the unwilling bride. You can’t do anything but commiserate with her in silence.

“My father said he’d be willing to break off talks if…” she trails off, looking vaguely uncomfortable for the first time since the evening started. “At the time, I hadn’t realized those two were into women.”

You nearly choke with laughter.

It’s an understandable mistake. The nature of Satoru and Suguru’s relationship have always raised eyebrows. They’ve never hidden it. It’s a truth, never presumed, never spoken, lest it be true. Or spreads. Satoru and Suguru have always enjoyed making people uncomfortable to an almost sadistic extent. You’ve seen people squirm in their seats beneath Suguru’s pleasant smile, Satoru’s creeping menacing grin.

Meiko looks amused now, eyeing you with an understanding you don’t quite get. “My mistake.”

You sober. “The reception…”

“He spent the entire time with Gojo and Geto, trying to worm his way into their good graces. He has ambitions, you see.” A mirthless smile. “He wants to be prime minister of Japan one day, and everyone knows it’s Gojo’s vote that matters the most when it comes to selecting the political face of Japan, and my father already has very strong ties to the current Kamo head.”

Oh you knew that. Upon watching a political debate with Shoko in the common lounge your first year of jujutsu tech, Satoru had taken up all the space on the couch with wide legs, eaten all your popcorn, and watching the current prime minister’s effective response to the burgeoning inflation, had commented that it was an aggressive policy for the mild and meek man who had cowered in the face of him and the Zenin and Kamo heads.

Shoko and Suguru had simply looked at him until Satoru shrugged and said that between the current prime minister and his former opponent, personally, he had flipped a coin before casting his vote. Suguru gawked at him, and had spent the rest of the week questioning the legitimacy of the political institutions in Japan.

To this day, you’re unsure of whether or not Satoru was joking.

Sometimes, the thought that the fate of your nation rests in Satoru’s hands makes you a little uneasy.

You try not to think about it often.

She snorts. “It wasn’t as bad as our first night.” 

You straighten immediately.

“He didn’t touch me,” she clears up quickly. “Or force me, if that’s what you think. He slept on the couch actually.” Her face goes thoughtful. “It’s more than you can say of a lot of men in jujutsu society,” she completes darkly.

Relief shoots through you. “If you ever need help…” This time, it’s your turn to squeeze her hands reassuringly. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

Meiko looks touched. “You’d help me?”

“I’m not all that impressive,” you respond truthfully, a little embarrassed at your bold proclamation with nothing but intent to back it up. You aren’t in a position of any strength to be promising easy help. But you’d do anything you could. “But I’m sure I could ask Satoru and Suguru to help if necessary too.” And if whatever you could meant pleading to Satoru and Suguru on the behalf of someone else, you wouldn’t even have to think about it.

“Satoru and Suguru are good people,” despite the opinions of others. Despite…what Meiko may think. They are, you know it. You’re sure they’d intervene if needed, not because you asked.

She sniffs. You look at her in alarm. Then you realize the bottle of wine is empty.

“I’m sure…” she swallows, eyebrows furrowing as she tries to piece together her sentence. “I’m sure they’d do anything, if you asked them.”

You’re sure she’s just flattering you, so you smile, and motion for the waitress before Meiko can order another bottle. You hope she doesn’t cry. A pretty, crying woman would have you flying into a panic. You prepare yourself to call Shoko for advice just in case, although for crying women matters Suguru would probably be your first choice.

The bill is placed. You figure you should pay since she took the liberty of inviting you out in the first place, but there’s a black card in her hand before you can even blink. The waitress smoothly takes it, just as Meiko’s fist slams down onto the table.

“They don’t deserve you!” She exclaims, drawing stares from other tables. “You’re too good for them!”

The server hurriedly rushes away, presumably to quickly check you two out.

Your server returns with Meiko’s card and helps you collect her. Luckily, she’s not drunk enough to be immobile, but she tilts precariously as you two walk her outside. The weight of her body leaning on yours is almost pleasant. She must be a lightweight. Like Satoru. You don’t mind it. It reminds you of the time you had had to drag Satoru to his room after he mistook Shoko’s flask of alcohol for apple juice. Outside, a sleek black car awaits.

“Meiko,” you say, “would you like to stay at my apartment tonight?”

Her voice is small as she hides her face in the crook of your neck. Your heart nervously starts in your chest. “...Do you mind?”

You manage a smile. “Not at all.”

The driver (the same driver from before you recognize), a kind looking middle aged man, takes Meiko as you thank the waitress. When the two of you are seated, Meiko slurs to him that she’ll be following you home tonight. You tell him your address.

When you arrive, the driver does a double take at your apartment building. Meiko sobers up enough to be able to walk up the three flights of stairs to your apartment by herself so she shoos the driver away as you promise to take care of her.

“Go,” you call as you open the door. “I’m home.”

Go is seated in front of the door, above the platform of the genkan, as if he’s been waiting for you, tail excitedly flicking from side to side on the floor as he regards you.

“Wow,” Meiko says. “That’s a beautiful cat.”

Pride blooms in your chest at her words. Go’s grown big enough to nearly encompass the length of your arms. You wonder if he’ll ever stop growing, but you don’t mind. More of him to hug and pet. You love him regardless. 

After taking off her heels, Meiko clambers to her knees and immediately starts petting Go. You can hear Go’s pleased purr as Meiko showers him with bellyrubs. 

When she finally pulls away, you lead her through the living room and then into your room, Go following beside your ankles. 

“You can take my bed.” Meiko opens her mouth to argue. “I insist.” You’re no stranger to sleeping on the couch anyway. And having Go next to you made things substantially better. You leave to the kitchen to get her a glass of water.

Clutching a tall glass of water, you return to your room to see the top dresser of your drawer opened, and a white envelope in Meiko’s hand.

“O-oh,” you say quickly, placing the glass of water down on your desk. “That’s…”

“Did you write all of these?” Meiko places the envelope back down at the top of the stack in your drawer. You had momentarily moved the letters there until you could finish Satoru’s latest one to ensure all the postage was up to date. His birthday was coming soon after all. But you couldn’t risk the letters being seen by any of the recipients. Your letters weren’t meant for them—not as long as you were alive.

With Satoru's tendency to snoop through your things, their usual home was in a shoebox inside a bigger storage container underneath your bed, covered with spare blankets. You hadn’t been expecting visitors.

Meiko gestures to three stacks of letters, each stack addressed to a different person.

“Three every year,” you reply, with a small smile, closing the drawer. She must have seen Satoru’s name written on the envelope. You’re relieved when she doesn’t say anything else, only gazing at the picture frames on top of your dresser. 

“Your apartment,” her voice is quiet, “is very empty.”

“I’m not good at decorating. I’ve never had a lot of things.”

“The unsentimental type, huh.”

Meiko raises her hand, as if to examine the picture of Shoko on your desk, but then drops it. You open the covers for her. It’s easy to see how tired she is, the darkness of the night casting shadows on her face that make her expression muted. You should let her get rest.

Slowly, she gets into your bed.

“I wanted to enroll into jujustu high,” her voice is barely a whisper, covers pulled to her chin. “My father said my cursed technique wouldn’t amount to much as a jujutsu sorcerer. That I’d be killed on my first mission. I wanted—” her voice warbles, and you worry she might cry. “I could’ve been an auxiliary manager.”

Hesitantly, you reach out and pat her hair. You like it when Shoko pats your hair.

She blinks slowly, before her eyes close. A few seconds later, Meiko is peacefully sleeping in your bed. You exhale, relieved that sleep had come to her easily.

Freedom. It’s easy to take it for granted. Despite everything in your life, at least you had that. You could quit being a jujutsu sorcerer, move to the mountains unaccounted for, and live the rest of your life surrounded by rocks. There would be no great impact on jujutsu society. You’d be a fading memory at best.

You’re still thinking about it when, settled on the couch, with Go in your lap as you brush his fur, someone knocks on your door.

At this hour?

You set Go and the brush down, walking over to the genkan. You open the door.

A tall, slightly disheveled man greets you. From what you can make out in the sparse light coming from the small lamp of your living room, he’s nicely dressed, in an expensive looking suit, but his tie is loose around his neck in a way that reminds you of drunk businessmen splayed out in the streets awaiting the trains to open.

“Is Ikeda-san inside?” He asks sharply. You try to make out his face, but the darkness encroaches on his face, creating shadows. Your eyesight is going bad. Too many late nights in the archives. 

“She’s sleeping—”

You immediately move to block him from coming in when he takes a step forward. Go hisses from in between your ankles.

“I’m her husband,” he says, in a tone that leaves little room for argument. “I’m here to retrieve my wife.” After a slight pause, as if remembering to be courteous, he dips his head. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Of course.” You meet his gaze. “Though I don’t think it’s wise to move her now. Like I said before, she’s sleeping.” You don’t share that she had been drinking.

You think you imagine the flicker of displeasure on his face, but then his face is smoothly dispassionate. “It’s only proper that she should rest at home.”

You don’t move.

“If I’m being honest, I don’t feel comfortable letting her go home with you.” Not in her current condition.

“Forgive me,” he says. “But my relationship with Ikeda-san doesn’t pertain to you. It’s a separate matter altogether. I simply want her to rest at home.” In other words: it’s none of your business.

A politician through and through, you think. Despite the fact that this straitlaced man seems to be the very opposite of smiles and fake goodwill. 

It’s not. Your business. But you don’t think you can let her go home, not in good conscience. You wonder if this means making enemies with the future prime minister of Japan. Well, there wasn’t much he could do even if he wanted to retaliate.

“I’m sorry,” you say firmly. “I’ll take care of Ikeda-san until the morning. I may not look like it but I’m also a jujutsu sorcerer. A Grade One. I’m more than capable of watching over her.”

You leave out the part where your own missions have been on the backburner as of late. You’re sure Yaga-sensei is being considerate after what happened in Nagoya. You mentally thank Satoru and Suguru for all their hard work. 

Surprise on his face. “You’re a jujutsu sorcerer?”

Y-yes… “I am.” 

His fingers curl, unhappy. You can tell he’s hesitant. You understand it, but you already decided you wouldn’t let Meiko go home. It’s not something you’ll budge on. You’ll stand your ground.

“Then I leave her in your care,” he says curtly, straightening. He bows his head and you bow back. Then he’s gone, leaving you wondering if you imagined the entire interaction. You stare at your empty doorway until Go meows.

You close the door and sigh, sitting down on the elevated floor connected to the genkan as you scratch Go’s ear.

“Do you think the future prime minister of Japan hates me?”

He bumps his head into your thigh. You sigh again, picking him up as you stand. Like he said, it’s beyond you to assume their relationship, a nobody like you. Go immediately rolls onto his back in your arms, paws kicking up, nuzzling into you.

At least Go would never hate you.

You tread back to the couch, and put on a documentary about African meerkats. Go doesn’t take his eyes off the screen, entranced by the slim animals and their dietary habits. You eventually doze off.

—

You wake up to the sound of eggs sizzling and the smell of breakfast. You blink, cold winter sunlight streaming in through the window. You sit up.

“Good morning,” Meiko says. “I’m making breakfast.”

You look at her.

She snorts. “What, did you think a rich girl like me couldn’t cook? I lived by myself in college, you know. No servants at all.” Meiko must mistake your blank eyed stare for something more because she hastily says, “O-on the weekdays anyway.”

You didn’t know you had food in your fridge.

“I went to the grocery store around the block,” she says, answering your unspoken question. “What do you live on? All you had was cat food in the fridge!” She opens a cabinet and points. “And this huge jar of sugar!”

“Satoru’s,” you answer. Meiko looks even more confused.

You yawn. Go is already awake on your lap, awaiting his breakfast no doubt. “There were some eggs…” Leftovers from the groceries Shoko had bought you a week prior. 

“I can’t believe you…” She shakes her head, muttering something along the lines of ‘hopeless,’ before shooing you into the bathroom to wash.

After a quick stop to the bathroom, you feed Go and take a seat. Meiko puts a plate of eggs, bacon and sausage, and buttered toast in front of you.

“You didn’t have to.” You stare at the food. When was the last time you had breakfast in your apartment out of ingredients that had been bought? 

“It’s the least I could do,” she sounds exasperated. “I can’t believe you let me take your bed!”

You feed Go a leftover piece of raw bacon which he gratefully accepts, nudging into your hand. “As long as you were comfortable.”

She huffs, and you thank her for the meal. The two of you eat in brief silence.

“Have you ever wondered what you’d be if you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer?” Meiko asks suddenly, spearing a sausage with her fork. “Like if you had never known curses existed.”

You wonder where this is coming from.

“Not really,” you admit slowly, staring at your plate of food. “It’s not like it would have ever made a difference. It was also highly probable I’d be killed during a mission anyway.” No need to think about the possibilities, no point in contemplating the path of your life unless you were debating the merits of suicide.

“Oh. That’s morbid.” Then she says, “Do you still think that?”

You think about your last missions, and the last time you had a close call with death. It could be tomorrow, it could be next year. You suppose that’s always been the inevitable reality for you. Who would you be if not a jujutsu sorcerer? You had little to no experience of life outside the world of jujustu sorcery. No other friends. No family. “I do. I don’t even know if I’ll survive to the next year,” you say plainly.

“What if you do survive?” She presses. “What if you don’t die? Next year, the year after the next…What would retirement look like for you?”

You consider it. It’s a difficult question. It must show on your face because Meiko laughs as if she’s torn whether to be amused or sympathetic. “Is it really that hard?”

“I would move somewhere peaceful,” you say slowly. “The countryside. Maybe somewhere along the coast, near the beach.” You’d like that. Somewhere aligned with nature. Somewhere where you could watch the sunrise and the sunset. Somewhere, where the stars are visible.

“By yourself?”

“By myself.” You would live in solitude, once again, content knowing Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko were living happily. Nobody would ever hurt you again. Go headbutts your ankle. Your lips curl, leaning down to pet him. “With Go,” you correct. No, you wouldn’t be entirely alone.

“And then?”

“Die.”

Meiko makes a face.

It wouldn’t be bad, you think. It’s all you can ask for out of life, if any higher existence is merciful enough to grant it. A peaceful death. 

Meiko gawks at you. When she finally regains her words, she says, “Either you live as a jujutsu sorcerer or you die?”

You nod.

She opens her mouth. Then closes it. She sighs. “You’re so morbid.”

–

There are flowers on your desk. They’re lovely, a bouquet of a colorful array of flowers, some of which you recognize as japanese iris’, peonies, and wisteria. 

You examine them, fingering their delicate petals, running your hands through them to try to find a card. You think it had accidentally been delivered to the library by mistake. You don’t know who would send you flowers. 

There’s no identifying information on them, so you gingerly pick up the bouquet and walk out the library, all the way to Shoko’s office on the third floor of jujutsu high’s main building.

She raises an eye at the bundle in your arms when you knock and open the door.

“I’m glad I caught you before you went on break,” you say. “I found these flowers in the library, and I thought they’d brighten up your office.” You wrap your hands around the stems of the carefully trimmed flowers, and feel the thrum of your cursed energy imbue the flowers.

You place the bouquet down on the closest cabinet to you. As long as nobody intentionally destroyed them, they’d stay beautiful forever. “I’ll find you a vase.”

She swivels in her chair to face you, scrutinizing the flowers. “Are you sure? Those look like serious money.”

You play with a petal. “I think they were delivered to the library by mistake, but I can’t find a card.”

A knowing smile plays on her lips. “Men give women flowers when they want to apologize. Any groveling men in mind?”

You look at her. “No.”

She huffs a breath of laughter. “I’ll take them,” she says airily. She stands. “Are you going to join me on my break?”

You give her an apologetic look. “Paperwork.”

She narrows her eyes. “Fine, fine, but you owe me some of your time this weekend. It’s been a while since we went shopping.”

Shopping with Shoko always meant a good time. You’re looking forward to the weekend already. You wave her off, and back to the library you go. Just as you step into the gardens leading to the library, you hear a voice call your name.

“How’s your cat?” Hideo asks in greeting, jogging up to your side. “Have you named him?”

“Hello.” You smile. “His name is Go, and he’s very big.”

“Go…” Hideo’s eyebrows momentarily draw together, understanding dawning on his face. “I’m guessing it’s not because five is your lucky number, huh.”

You laugh. “He looks just like Satoru.” You adore him. 

The two of you continue to the library. 

“Has Go met his namesake yet?”

“Not...” Your smile slips, thinking of your last encounter with Satoru and Suguru. “Yet.”

“Well, all in good time, I suppose,” Hideo says easily, after a beat of contemplative silence. 

You think about the flowers in Shoko’s office, and what type of vase they would look best in. Maybe Meiko would know. “There were flowers in the library.”

Hideo grins, amused. “A secret admirer?”

You blink. “I don’t think so.” A secret admirer? You? “I’m sure it was a mistake. I gave them to Shoko to brighten up her office.”

A wince crosses his face. It melts into a chuckle. You look at him curiously.

“You’re just a normal girl, huh?”

He grins, eyes bright, fond with a familiarity you still aren’t used to, but for some reason the comment makes your chest ache. 

Normal. 

You must be making a face because he straightens, mostly sobering. “Ah…how do I put this,” he scratches the underside of his chin. “When we were younger you always seemed…older. Somehow. It’s easy to lose sight of what’s normal in this world. I guess talking about love and secret admirers just reminded me…”

You tilt your head. 

He clears his throat. “I prefer the person you are right now though,” he says easily. “You smile now” —like a normal girl— “and get sent flowers from a secret admirer” —like a normal girl—

You stare at him. Then lower your gaze to your feet. “Is that…bad?” You wonder if he’s making fun of you. You don’t think those flowers were intended for you.

Nobody has ever called you normal. If anything, you were abnormal. If you were a normal girl, maybe you’d be married like that woman you saw months ago. If you were a normal girl, maybe everything would be better.

If you were a normal girl would you be happier? Would things make more sense? You can’t imagine it. First Meiko asks you about a hypothetical future, and now Hideo seems to be under the mistaken impression that you are a normal girl.

It…

You don’t hate it. The thought peeves you more than you thought it would.

Hideo blinks rapidly. “No, of course not!” He frantically waves his hands. “Ignore me! I have a bad habit of running my mouth occasionally!” His gaze turns worried. “I’m sorry—”

“It’s fine,” you respond, meaning it. You smile. “I don’t mind.”

Normal, normal, normal.

Hideo walks you inside the library. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his neck crane to look at the domed skylight in the center of the library, the interest clear on his face. The building is in a unique shape: a heptagon, walls lined with bookshelves that fit the shape of the building. “I didn’t know this building was a library. Cozy.”

“I think they converted it,” you say. You’ve always liked this library, away from the bustle of the campus. Not many people knew about it. You discovered this building your second year of high school, and found a thin layer of dust on all the books and scrolls. It was clear it hadn’t been occupied in a while. It wasn’t until you had stayed inside for a day or two, unaccounted for, reading whatever you could salvage, that Shoko had found you, Satoru and Suguru not too far behind. Yaga thought you had never come back from a previous mission.

Shoko helped you clear the library. Satoru and Suguru carried a desk and chair into the center, right beneath the skylight, and suddenly, it was a study. Yours.

“I like it here,” you say quietly. “It’s peaceful.”

As soon as you finish your sentence, you hear the large wooden double doors open and slam shut as Satoru strides in. You flinch at the noise.

“...?”

Satoru folds his arms as he rests his weight against one of the bookshelves. He doesn’t need to take off his glasses for you to know he’s keenly unhappy in a way that fills up the entire room.

“...”

“...”

“...”

Satoru’s jaw ticks.

You move your gaze to the floor, sensing Hideo looking from you to Satoru curiously. Greater men have scurried away from the palpable tension Satoru has injected into the room, but Hideo seems oblivious to it.

“Guess I should leave the two of you to it,” Hideo finally says. “Sorry for the intrusion!”

You startle, looking up, mouth opening to deny his statement, but Satoru’s flat expression snaps your mouth back shut.

“T-Then I’ll see you…” you say quietly, wanting him to stay, to buffer conversation between you and Satoru anyway. But that would be unfair to Hideo. Satoru and Suguru have vocalized their dislike of him, for what you aren’t sure. You think Hideo is similar to Haibara in temperament, with his winning personality and easy going conversational air, and the two of them seem to get along with Haibara just fine.

He stops. Then turns back. “Next week, right?”

You blink. Next…week…? “Yes…?”

Hideo smiles, as a crease forms between Satoru’s eyebrows. Hideo slightly bows in Satoru’s direction before taking his leave. You hold your breath as the doors close once more, leaving you alone with…

Satoru is in front of you before you can blink, pushing you back into your desk. Your knees slightly buckle. 

“You didn’t want him to leave,” Satoru says, accusatory, pulling his glasses off his face. “You wanted that third rate sorcerer to stay!”

You frown. “That’s rude.”

He ignores you. “Where’s your phone?”

You look at him curiously. Where had you left it again? Satoru opens his mouth, then closes it so quickly you hear the click of his teeth.

“Is…” you sigh. “Is something wrong?” You would rather he just get it over with. Telling you your outburst that day was unwarranted, and that you had been a terrible person and friend and human being in general. He wouldn’t be wrong.

“No,” he says through gritted teeth. “Nothing is wrong.”

Something, you think, is clearly wrong.

Silence.

All you can think of are Meiko’s words. The Gojo elders who traveled from Fukuouka just to convince Satoru to get married, preferably, to Sasaski. They want him to wed a woman of standing and lineage. They want him to have children. Then take a few mistresses, and impregnate them for backup heirs. 

Freedom, you once again think, is immeasurable. You’re sad for Satoru. You want him to be happy. It’s all you’ve ever wanted for him and Suguru and Shoko. It makes you relieved and happy to know Suguru would always be by his side. Any sorrows or joys, would be shared together. 

Satoru exhales roughly. In seconds he goes from bearing down at you, gaze alight, to sinking down to his knees in front of you.

You stare at him, confused.

There’s a loud slap of noise that has your eyes going wide.

When Satoru looks back up at you, his cheeks are stinging red, and handprinted. You reach out immediately, fingertips brushing over the heat of his sculpted face, wondering why he had slapped himself.

“Sato—”

“You know, Suguru and I were idiots.”

Oh. “No,” It wasn’t their fault. It was yours. “I shouldn’t have—”

You’re fully backed into the desk, taking a small seat (there’s nowhere else to move) as Satoru rises, hand closing around your nape. He brings you close and kisses you greedily, a moment’s indulgence, until he draws away, letting you breathe as you wonder what just happened.

“There’s nothing I love more than seeing you think,” he murmurs against your lips, piercing blue gaze never leaving yours for a second, “but right now I need you to stop thinking and listen.”

He sinks back down, expression almost smug when you close your mouth. He takes your hands, thumbs rubbing and pressing down on your knuckles soothingly, if not in an almost agitated manner. You’ve seen him do the same thing to Suguru. You don’t think he’s aware of it.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he admits, expression unusually forlorn. “I forgot…” he hesitates, dropping that line of thinking altogether. “Suguru and I get carried away when it comes to you.” There’s not a hint of amusement on his face as he squeezes your hands. “We don’t like seeing you cry.”

He says it with such a truthful earnestness that your throat goes tight. He’s still him, you think. That very same long limbed mischievous boy who laughed loudly and smiled broadly and clung a little too hard to your side, as if unaware of his own strength. His arm perpetually slung over Suguru’s shoulder like he was always meant to be there. No matter how far you think Satoru and Suguru are, those are the memories you’ll carry in your heart. Those sun slicked, sepia tinged memories, echoing of laughter. 

Maybe the only person who had changed was you. 

You look down at your entwined fingers.

You, you, you. It’s all you.

You’re a bit embarrassed. You don’t think you cried. Not in front of them at least. You had gone home and locked your door first. I’m sorry too, you want to say, but somehow with Satoru gazing up at you, the words are lodged in your throat. He looks devastatingly sincere. You don’t doubt his words.

“You should forgive us,” Satoru says lightly, almost innocently. Too innocently. That should’ve been more than enough for alarm bells to sound, but you had been preoccupied by Satoru’s show of sincerity.

You blink when his fingers easily wrap around the length of your right ankle. And when he firmly presses your foot to his shoulder, you stare.

You try to drop your foot, move it away, but Satoru’s grip is iron clad. A smile is slowly sneaking onto the corners of Satoru’s lips, making him look more incriminating than anything. You don’t like that look. Not at all.

“Satoru—”

“Would it make you feel better to push me around a little?” He asks breathily, eyes glinting mischievously. “You can kick me if you want, I don’t mind.” His voice lowers. “ Anywhere , really.”

You sweat. Trying to pull your ankle out of his grip isn’t working. 

“I’m sorry too,” you blurt out, unable to comprehend how you ended up with your foot on Satoru’s shoulder while he gives you his consent to kick him. “I forgive you, I forgive you—”

“No needa be shy!” He moves your foot to his chest, pressing it down. “Just give me one good kick—”

You give him a flinty, dead eyed stare. “That’s not funny.”

He returns it with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not laughing.”

“Satoru,” you say weakly.

Finally, he releases your foot, and you are allowed to jerk your leg down. You’re instantly relieved, planting both feet firmly on the ground as you dust away the dirt on his shoulder and chest. He sighs, disappointed in a way that perturbs you.

“You’re so difficult sometimes,” you murmur, considerably warming up to his presence.

“That’s right,” he hums, idly trailing a finger down your clothed leg. “You and Suguru have your hands full, I’m sure.” He peers up at you daringly, looking every bit the petulant boy the Gojo clan had spoiled rotten in their adoration of the first six eyes user in centuries. “I’m worth it though, aren’t I?”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Sometimes, I wonder that,” you say, (and mean) seriously.

“I didn’t hear that,” he says pleasantly. 

“...If you say so…”

You think you imagined the twitch of his eyebrow. 

You can’t help but smile. This is how things should be, you think. Now, if you could talk to Suguru, you’re sure you could draw this entire incident to a close. You wouldn’t have to skirt around the two of them with feelings of impending doom clouding your mind. 

“Well,” Satoru says casually. “Now that we’ve gotten all that out of the way, apologies and all,” he promptly gets to his feet, so quickly you blink, gaze following him up. His face transforms into a full blown pout. “You’re a true sadist!”

You gawk at him. So soon after reconciliation!?

Satoru scowls. “Throwing Suguru and I away so quickly?”

“???????”

“Who said you were allowed to see and talk to other men!” He frowns even more vigorously at the confusion on your face. “Don’t act so surprised! Suguru’s been sulking every single day! He’s been downright distressed. The girls think he’s depressed! Again!”

You wince, recognizing the tell tale signs of another common Satoru overblown overreaction. Very high school reminiscent you think.

“S-Satoru…”

Satoru sighs dramatically, glaring at you. “Any day now, he might do something drastic.”

You stare at him.

“That’s why you should never get mad at us ever again,” he finishes succinctly, looking at you expectantly.

You stare at him. 

When it’s clear you have no response, Satoru brushes off the silence so easily you think this is how others can get tripped up at the pace in which he leads. If you weren’t so used to it, you’d be one of them.

Satoru scans the small room. “Where are our flowers?”

“Oh, they were yours?”

Satoru levels you with a flinty gaze that would send others running to the hills. It elicits no strong response from you. His tone is chilly, displeased. “There’s another man sending you flowers?”

You give him an unimpressed look so withering that he clears his throat, almost meekly.

“Suguru’s idea. I picked them.”

“Well, they’re lovely,” a small smile on your lips. “They’re in Shoko’s office.”

“Of course they are,” he sighs, resigned. He regards you silently for a minute. “Did you like them?”

“I did.” You’re unsure where this line of questioning is headed. You slightly tilt your head to the side in a question.

“They were for you,” Satoru says. “I picked them for you.” He takes a step forward until your legs touch. “I wanted you to have them, so why’d ya have to give them away?”

You blink at the hint of roughness that bleeds through Satoru’s fixed (Suguru’s work) pronunciation. In hindsight, if the flowers were for you…it was awfully rude of you to have given them away wasn’t it?

“I…understand. I’m…sorry for giving your flowers away.”

Now he looks peeved. “They weren’t mi…” he groans, looking at you with an exasperated warmth. Then his eyes narrow. “You’re sorry, huh?” 

You don’t…like that look in his eyes.

You don’t have time to respond, because Satoru’s finger comes to rest on the button fastened right below your neck. Uh oh. A sensation familiar to deja-vu suddenly envelopes you. 

You’ve been getting a lot of those lately. 

Your face warms as Satoru’s tongue runs over his bottom lip, playfully. The button comes undone easily. His voice is playful, but his gaze burns. “You can get on your knees—” your shirt is half undone, your black bra peeking out “—or I can get on mine.”

You don’t think he’s intending to give you a choice, because he’s so quickly down on his knees and spreading your legs apart, you’re blinking from the whiplash.

“Wait—!” You put your hands on his shoulders, thanking whatever deity was looking down on you today that you had put on pants instead of whatever easy skirt and sweater outfit you usually chose when sleep riddled in the morning. 

Satoru smiles pleasantly. Too suspiciously well mannered when his fingers are on the zipper of your pants. “Yes?”

“H-how about a kiss instead…?”

You figure it would be easier to untangle yourself from him then…

Satoru’s fingers curl into your thighs, pinning you to the table. You’re surprised to see him seriously consider it. And relieved. His gaze is weighted with all the seriousness of negotiating a crucial deal. “How long?”

Your eyebrows furrow. You’re not sure how long a kiss should be. You hesitantly bring your hands to cup his face and lower your head to gently meet his lips. He’s as still as a statue, except for the sound of his breathing; deep slow breaths that overtake the rise and fall of his chest. His lips are immeasurably soft. A fact that you can only appreciate as time slows.

You take a moment to look at him. In the silence, you can admire the fine lines of his sculpted face and the inviting curve of his lips all within the grasp of your hands. He looks softer like this, happy. It makes you happy. 

Satoru’s eyelashes flicker open, long white lashes framing the blues of the sky trapped in his gaze. You offer him a smile, a small quirk of your lips as you turn a hand over and lightly brush his cheek. You blink, taken aback when Satoru lightly takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckle. 

His eyes flash, engulfed by a dark hunger.

You’re flat on your back against the desk, and there’s no time to think before Satoru presses forward, claiming your lips in an open mouthed kiss that steals your breath away. He’s trapped you into the desk, the weight of his body pushing you down. His fingers wind through your hair, cradling the back of your head. 

You can feel his need between your legs, throbbing against you, all harsh panting and heat.

“Satoru,” you mumble the best you can with his lips still eager to meet yours. “We should—”

Your words are smothered when Satoru’s tongue licks into your mouth purposefully. You can tell he’s unhappy to be separated by layers of fabric. Your panties stick to your core, damp, as Satoru begins to lightly rock into you, straining against the material covering your heat. 

“Satoru—”

He moans into your mouth, “Just like that.” 

You snap your mouth shut, but Satoru doesn’t seem to notice as his lips trail across your neck with a single minded purpose. You feel his lips on your shoulder, as they glide across your chest.

Satoru’s lips are on yours again before you can even blink in an open mouthed kiss, tongue thoroughly exploring your mouth. His hands are tight, pressing into your waist, body flush against yours. 

You mentally apologize. Then, you bite him.

Your teeth close over Satoru’s bottom lip. Hard. You almost wince yourself. 

To your horror, Satoru does not release you like you thought he would.

You feel his body shudder to a near tremble, and the sharp exhale-like moan that leaves his lips. His eyes look delighted in their frenzied state. He presses closer to you, erection prominent and twitching, holding you even tighter. Your heart races in your chest as Satoru buries himself into your neck, hips grinding into yours. 

You force your hands out against his chest. “Satoru,” you say tightly. “Someone could come in.”

That gives him pause. He rises, just slightly, enough to look down on you. You must look like a mess. His tongue swipes over the blood on his lips, and then he smiles.

“Oh?”

This is bad.

“I should talk to Suguru first,” you say quickly, avoiding his gaze. “You know…”

There's a brief pause.

“Hm.” He begrudgingly acquiesces, allowing you enough space to rise up. He briefly cups your face, before a hand falls to your neck. A dull ache flares when Satoru’s thumb presses down. You swallow, trying to calm your beating heart, all despite the fact that his hardness is within plain view.

You try not to stare at it as you busy yourself with buttoning your shirt. You can feel him grinning at you.

“And Suguru says I’m the one with no restraint.” Crossing his arms, he bears down at you expectantly. HIs foot taps up and down.

Your nerves are still frayed, electric, but you feel…almost better. Lighter. Despite the unexpected turn your meeting had taken, you’re happy. 

“I love you Satoru,” you say, finishing up your top button. You really do. If he and Suguru and Shoko could be guaranteed happiness for the rest of their lives, you truly would have no problem dying in the next hour.

After straightening out your shirt, you finally look up. Satoru blinks at you, but there’s a flush to his neck, lips warbling.

You haven’t seen Satoru this flustered in ages. You should enjoy it now while it lasts. 

“Where’d that come from?” He manages with a croak. He regains himself, straightening, but there's a pleased glint to his eye. Like a preening cat.

“I just wanted to,” you say happily. “Because I love you.”

You stand, rising on your toes to pat his head. Go likes it when you pet him. Meiko had liked it too.  

Satoru stares at you, but he doesn’t push your hand away. He closes his eyes with an exhale.

“Are we…good?” you drop your hand, much to the disappointment that overtakes Satoru’s face.

“Always,” he confirms, and a part of you thinks he means it.

You smile. Everything’s going to be alright. As long as Satoru can smile at you like that, then things can’t possibly be as bad as you may have envisioned. You hear Meiko’s words once more: The Gojo clan elders and higher ups from Fukuouka are convening in Tokyo to try and convince Gojo to get married. They want him to have children.

It's odd. That such an important thing hadn't reached your ears. According to Meiko, those elders never left Fukuouka. A matter of the upmost importance. Nobody told you about it. Not even Shoko. It's none of your business. That's what you've been telling yourself, despite the disappointment swirling in your gut. You wish they could have confided in you.  

“Do you want children?”

The look of interest on his face quickly fades as his gaze turns discerning. “What brought this on?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly, intuitively deciding that telling Satoru of your excursion with Meiko would be disastrous right now. “Just curious I guess…”

“About how babies are made?” His eyebrows waggle.

“No. I know about that.” Speaking of which. You’d need condoms.

Though you aren’t quite sure how well Satoru would react to you asking him what their to-go brand of condoms are. Maybe you’d ask Suguru instead.

“You weren’t at your place last Sunday,” Satoru says casually.

You blink, caught up in your worries about selecting the wrong condoms. Sunday…that had been…dinner with Meiko. 

“Oh, I was out.”

“Out,” Satoru repeats. “Where?”

“With a…” you mentally apologize for being presumptuous, “friend…”

Satoru frowns. “You don’t have friends.”

Other than me, Suguru, and Shoko.

The unspoken words are pointed. You smile nervously.

You aren’t as popular as Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. That’s a given. Shoko gets invited to for drinks with the auxiliary managers every other day. Visiting jujutsu sorcerers have been known to ask her out for coffee. You’re sure it’s tripled for Satoru and Suguru.

“There are some…” you clear your throat. “I have friends other than you and Shoko and Suguru.”

Ijichi. Utahime….Hideo. Maybe Meiko.

But to be a friend…they’d have to consider you a friend right? It has to go both ways. You’ve never received verbal confirmation or anything. You shouldn’t have automatically assumed…but Meiko had invited you out hadn’t she? She wanted to see you. To talk to you. There were no ulterior motives. She wanted to get to know you. Isn’t that how friendships start? You don’t even remember how Satoru and you became friends. One day he hated you, and then he didn’t. It’s not that much of a surprise. He’s always been a little capricious at heart like that. Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko had seamlessly blended into your life, like they had always been there. 

Satoru disregards your words. “You don’t need them.”

He doesn’t believe you. Your face warms in embarrassment. Of course he’d think that. You stay silent awkwardly.

Satoru hums. “So Megumi, huh.” He looks amused. “You should’ve just come over to the apartment.”

“R-right…” Sometimes, you truly believed it was easier to let Satoru think what he wanted. It was harmless anyway. So you’d let him.

He gently pulls you up to your feet. “I’ll drive you home.”

“But Suguru…”

“In Yokohama." He picks at something at your shoulder, but his knuckles brush your neck. "He won’t be back until tomorrow. So eager to see him?”

“Yes,” you admit. “I want to see him and I want…to talk to him.” If these past months have taught you anything, it’s that one of the things you miss most of all is talking to Suguru. Suguru is more than an excellent conversationalist, he’s attentive in a way others aren’t. Satoru and Suguru both. They make you feel seen. Satoru, when he looks at you. Suguru, when he listens.

You cherish it. You’ll miss it.

At your response, Satoru groans, falling to his knees once more. You blink at him, wondering what caused the sudden dramatics.

His fingers grip your pants, like a child hiding behind his mother’s dress. 

He looks up at you. You suddenly get the image of a withered man in the desert, dying of thirst, and you already know what he’s going to ask. You step back. His hand falls loosely back to his side.

“No,” you say sternly, in the same manner you tell Go he can’t knock over your vases. 

Then you walk outside.

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #m.jjk

[urlocalreadermooni]

Itadori x Fem!Reader x Sukuna

I think I'm alive

Heads up, Strong language.

"(NAME)!!" Itadori came running up to you, smiling so brightly.

You were just on a stroll, admiring the area when he found you. "What's got you in such a good mood today Ita?" you smiled back at him as you stopped moving to talk to him. "Oh nothing! Just happy to see you again." You chuckled at his comment, "You saw me two days ago Ita." He frowned in a joking way. "But.. you don't hang out with us that much!" You laughed at Itadori pouting and patted his head, "Don't be sad, silly." You have never seen Itadori's smile get so wide so quickly.Itadori suddenly had a disturbed look on his face, and it concerned you.

-In Itadori's head- "Are you fucking kidding me brat, its pitiful to see you fanboying over some.. THING." Sukuna laughed at him. "Do you ever shut up Sukuna?!" Itadori internally yelled at him. "Why don't you man up and do something, weakling." Sukuna scoffed, "If you don't do something ill do it for you." -Back to reality- Itadori's eyes widened and he yelled "NO YOU FUCKING WONT." you stepped back from him a little surprised, he realized he had yelled that out loud and covered his mouth. He stood in silence for a minute before speaking, "Sorry- didn't mean to yell that.. Sukuna is being a bitch again." he looked down, feeling ashamed. You just chuckled at him. "No need to feel bad Ita, I understand how living with that bastard can be difficult. Especially if you have to listen to him talk all the time." he looked up at you with such pure and happy eyes, it made you want to squeal and hug him to death. He smiled at you, happier than ever. "How come you're always so kind and understanding? You are nothing like Megumi and Nobara." you just chuckled and shrugged. "I guess it's just my personality." You closed your eyes as you smiled at Itadori, but when you opened your eyes you noticed a mouth on his cheek. "Say something useful brat." Itadori covered Sukuna's mouth, which had no effect when the mouth just appeared on the back of his hand. Itadori continued to try and slap Sukuna's mouth to get him to shut up, but it had no effect, other than Itadori just slapping himself. "Pathetic." A pair of Sukuna's eyes opened under Itadori's eyes, looking right at you. "(Hair color)ed brat. This-" Sukuna was cut off by Itadori's hand landing on his mouth. Muffled sounds were heard from Sukuna's mouth until Itadori yelled in pain and he pulled the hand away from Sukuna's mouth, pouting. Sukuna bit him to get his hand away. "This brat likes you and he wont shut up about it."

"What?" You asked. Sukuna just rolled his eyes at you, "You heard me, woman." he scoffed, "Idiot." and the next thing you know, Sukuna was gone. Itadori was looking at you in pure horror, afraid of what you might say, how you would react, and how you would act after hearing that. You were just confused, this was so sudden and you really didn't know how to react either.

"Really?" You asked. Itadori gulped and sighed. "Well.. No use trying to deny the fact.." Itadori looked down, too embarrassed to look at you. "(Name).. I am so sorry you had to find out like that, but yes I do like you.. In fact, I have liked you for a while.." Your heart was racing, hearing his confession made your cheeks red. You couldn't bring yourself to say anything. Instead, you ran up to Itadori and hugged him tightly. Itadori looked at you shocked, "W-what does this mean?" You didn't reply so he just hugged you back.

-In Itadori's head-

"Do I get a thank you?" Sukuna scoffed. "Thank you.. never thought i'd be thanking you but here I am." Itadori smiled. "Whatever." Sukuna rolled his eyes. -Back to reality- "Itadori.. you zoned out again.." Itadori shook his head and looked at you. "Sorry.." He looked away from you, feeling embarrassed again. "Weak." Sukuna said to Itadori. Itadori had a look of confusion for a minute before realizing what Sukuna had meant. You noticed a slight panic on Itadori's face for a second as markings started to appear on Itadori's face. Sukuna opened his eyes and looked down at you, "You look better when I get to actually see you face to face, woman." Sukuna was admiring you, but to you it felt like he was judging you. You didn't even realize that you were still in his arms and tried to move away, but you couldn't. Once you realized the situation you were in, you tried to get out. "Let me go, you monster!" you yelled, but it just made Sukuna grin. Sukuna spinned you around to get a look at you from all angles, stopping you when you almost fell over from dizziness. You had begun to fall over and he caught you, picking you up princess style.

"You would make a great queen, strong and beautiful."

Sukuna mumbled to himself, quiet enough so you couldn't hear it but just loud enough for you to hear him mumble something. You quickly snapped back to your senses and tried to get out of his arms. "GET THE HELL OFF ME!" You tried to push him away and he just chuckled. Sukuna looked around at your surroundings, noticing you two were in a garden, a very well kept one at that. Sukuna walked up to a flower bush picking a beautiful red flower, and putting it in your hair. "You have fear written all over your face. Quit it." He said in a stern voice. -In Sukuna's head- "YOU BETTER NOT FUCKING DO ANYTHING TO HER." Itadori yelled. "Quiet down brat. You're annoying." Sukuna scoffed. "I SWEAR. I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU HURT HER." Itadori was shouting so loud it almost gave Sukuna a headache. "I wont fucking hurt her. Idiot." Sukuna grumbled, "YOU BETTER FUCKING NOT!"

-Back to reality-

"Why are you doing this.." You asked quietly, Sukuna just chuckled. "If this brat gets to have you, so can I, it's only fair." You looked at him in horror. Itadori started yelling at him again and he looked irritated. "I'll give this stupid brat his body back. But before I do.." Sukuna looked at you and kissed you, it was rough but he was good at it, surprisingly. "See you soon my queen." And with that, you were now in Itadori's arms.

"Oh my god did he hurt you? Are you okay?" Itadori sounded so worried and it was adorable. "I'm okay I'm okay." You giggled. "Glad to have you back though." Itadori kept looking at your lips, but didn't do anything. So you decided to kiss him since he wouldn't. You leaned up and kissed him passionately on the lips, it was a sweet kiss and he happily returned it. "Does this mean that your my girlfriend now?" He grinned, you just giggled. "Yeah. It does." He was happily admiring you when he noticed the flower in your hair. "Hey who put that there-?" You totally forgot about the flower being in your hair. "Oh, Sukuna gave it to me."

He never got jealous so quickly.

"EH?!" Itadori yelled. "Oh hell no" Itadori picked a (Your favorite color) flower and threw the flower currently in your hair out, putting the new flower in your hair. "There." You just giggled, "You're so silly sometimes. You and Itadori both laughed and he carried you back to jujutsu high, it was getting dark. When you two entered Nobara and Megumi were waiting for you. "ITADORI WHAT TOOK-" Nobara stopped mid sentence, jaw dropped. "What the hell happened when you two were out, without TELLING ANYBODY!!" Nobara directed mostly at Itadori. Itadori had a prideful smile on, "Oh nothing.." you two giggled. "You two confuse me sometimes." Megumi sighed. "Itadori, give (Name). We need to have a girl on girl talk." Itadori gently put you down and you ran over to Nobara. Nobara dragged you to another room. "So... Are you two a thing? Finally?" You just looked at her, "Finally?" you asked. "Itadori has been crushing on you for so goddamn long girl." Nobara explained, "He has been talking about you for months. Literal months. He was literally obsessed and still is obsessed, glad that he finally manned up to say something." She scoffed. Soon she started shaking you, "TELL ME WHAT HAPPENEDDDD!! I NEED TO KNOWWW!!!" You giggled, "Well.. it all started when I was on my usual stroll around the garden in town, and Itadori had caught up to me." Nobara was fully interested "UHUH UHUH?" You almost laughed at how interested she was, "and then he suddenly confessed and now we are together." You purposely left the Sukuna part out. Nobara looked at you with a very confused face, "that seems a little rushed of him but, I guess hes always been like that." -With itadori and Megumi-

"So you finally managed to do it? After months?" Itadori grinned, "Yep. Best day of my life." Megumi rolled his eyes at him. "Just don't fuck up, or Nobara will seriously murder you." Itadori sighed "I know I know." Sukuna's mouth would appear on Itadori's cheek and grin. "She will make a lovely queen some day." Megumi stared at Itadori in absolute disgust. "You're kidding. Right." Sukuna laughed and disappeared. Megumi walked up to Itadori and gave him a good punch to the gut, causing Itadori to fall to the ground groaning. "What the hell was that for?!" Itadori whined. "You are shameful." Megumi stared down at Itadori. "What the hell are you two doing in here?" Nobara and (Name) walked back into the room, to see Megumi absolutely shaming Itadori, who was on the floor. Whining. Sukuna could be heard laughing at Itadori from his cheek, while Nobara and (Name) giggled at the sight.

Word Count: 1666 I had fun writing this

#jjk #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #yuji itadori #itadori x reader #itadori x you #itadori x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #megumi fushiguro #yuji #itadori #nobara #fushiguro #megumi

[dyns33]

Flufftober 18 - Enola Holmes

Sherlock Holmes x Reader 

It was a game between them, even if they had never talked about it.

Ever since he'd met her during an investigation that she'd helped him solve, impressing him with her intelligence and thinking skills, Sherlock Holmes and Y/N Y/L/N were seeing each other regularly.

There had been some rumours about their relation, since it was not proper for a young lady to find herself so often alone in a man's house, to walk down the street with him and accompany him on dangerous adventures, but none of them were paying attention, too busy having fun together.

For his part, Sherlock liked to test the intellectual capacities of his young friend. Y/N did her best to surprise him. To say or do something that he did not know or that he could not guess thanks to his science of deduction.

Until now, if they had counted the points, which they were not doing, Sherlock won largely, because despite all her goodwill, Y/N did not always find the solution to the questions, riddles and investigations he gave to her, and she absolutely never managed to take him by surprise.

           "You'll never guess who I saw this morning."

           "My sister." he answered without looking up from his newspaper.

           "... Possible. But you'll never guess what happened."

           "You had a chat, she offered you to work with her on a case, you followed your prime suspect to find out it couldn't be him as he was going to his mistress, only to find out the culprit was obviously the butler."

           "... You are not funny." she mumbled, sulking as she sat across from him. "Anyway. Anything new ?"

           "Can't you guess ?"

           "I repeat, you are not funny."

Trying to hide his smirk, Sherlock told her about his new investigation, eager to get her opinion. Of course, he already had an idea of ​​who had committed the crime, why and how, he wanted to see her think. Unlike most people, she knew how to use her brain, although she still needed a little practice. It was pleasant to see her face light up and her eyes sparkle when she found the solution.

It had nothing to do with romantic feelings though.

Not at all.

Sherlock often repeated it to himself when he took her arm not to lose her in the crowd, when he was composing a fiddle tune for her, or when he was worried that she was not arriving on time at a meeting.

A simple meeting between friends and work colleagues, of course.

Sometimes he suspected that Y/N loved him more than just a friend. But it embarrassed her and he didn't want to embarrass her.

After all, even though he came from a rather noble family and with money, he was not the eldest son, and he had a very particular way of life. Not really the ideal husband. She had seen him in many situations that would have scared off intelligent men and women.

If Y/N hadn't left yet, it was because he offered her a freedom that she didn't have as a woman in this society.

Sherlock understood this matter quite well thanks to his sister and his mother, and although he unfortunately did not have the solution to this problem yet, he was happy to help Y/N flourish as she deserved.

           "I'm sure you already know who stole that diamond." she sighed, rolling her eyes. "I don't even see why you need an assistant."

           "I never said I needed an assistant."

           "You said I was very useful for your investigations !"

           "Not exactly. I said you help me stay focused and eliminate leads faster. You're also good at following people, acting as a witness when Lestrade isn't listening, and responding to reporters who ask too many questions."

           "... So I'm here... To be a secretary ?"

           "... Again, that's not what I said."

           "What you just said is more or less the definition of a secretary, or an idiot who spends her time with a man who uses her."

Despite all his intelligence, Sherlock Holmes was not very good at talking with his peers, even those he cared about.

Especially those he cared about.

He knew all the same that he had just hurt Y/N, her grimace and wet eyes not leaving too much room for doubt, and he stood up quickly to prevent her from leaving, grabbing her hand.

           "That's really not what I meant." he repeated apologetically.

           "You don't have to talk, I get it. I'm really stupid. I thought we had fun together, that we were equals, that we... I was stupid."

           "What ? That we what ?"

           "Oh please, Sherlock, you know that very well !"

           "No I do not know."

           "That I love you !" she exclaimed, looking at him in the eyes, beautiful and furious. "We have been working together for months, having dinner together, spending several hours in your apartment, by the fireplace, and I know very well that the great Sherlock Holmes has long guessed that it was not simply because I love adventure !"

This, he could not deny.

However, Sherlock remained silent, because not for a single second had he imagined that she loved him so much, and especially he would never have thought that she would confess her feelings to him.

It was a real surprise.

And Y/N read the shock on his face perfectly.

           "... You did not know ?"

           "I... Of course I did. Well, I was hoping. I mean, I was suspecting. I didn't have all the...."

           "You were hoping ?" she repeated, slowly approaching him, her eyes becoming sparkling again. "Sherlock ?"

He could have said nothing, lied, run away, but that would have hurt her again, even more, and he didn't want that, so Sherlock didn't move, staring at her for a long time, before biting his lip.

           "I think wedding is a totally useless and absurd thing. But if it was necessary, I'm not against it."

           "... Should I see this as a marriage proposal ?"

           "What do you think ?"

           "I think you are panicking about the situation, that you are unable to tell me that you love me too, at least not right now and not in these terms, but you want to make me understand that my feelings are shared, that I don't have to be ashamed of my confession, and that if one day my father comes screaming to your house, you will take a ring out of your pocket and get on your knees."

           "Wrong ."

           "... Wrong ?"

           "Or rather, almost wrong. The majority of your deduction is correct, proving your great quick-wittedness, and that's why I love you."

It didn't make her laugh, but Y/N smiled all the same, gently hitting on the shoulder.

They didn't talk about it again after, for many months, because it was unnecessary.

#enola holmes #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #flufftober 2022

[lustrousgh0st]

Dirty tongue 

~🖤🔞🖤~ Simon “ghost” Riley x fem!reader (code name Fox)

Warnings/tags: just smut, I know very little about cod, blowjob, cum swallowing, reader is very flirty, I guess public sex If you squint, size difference, ghost is injured, blood, spit, tears, yeah idk what else it’s smut you probably know what to expect.

Notes: I don’t feel that proud of this but I hope you enjoy it, please comment and share if you do! Will probably do a part two.

‼️Minors dni! NSFW under the cut‼️

——————————————————————————

Ghost had become accustomed to your lecherous comments and behaviour, no matter how many times he made you drop and do 20 you never gave in. In fact, you’d probably make a joke about how no man’s ever made you sweat so much. Ghost just accepted there was no changing you, It was probably your way of coping he guessed, it was hard doing this job so he couldn’t really blame you for trying to loosen the mood with a few dirty jokes.

Not that he minded at all having a hot woman making perverted jokes about him…In fact he’d say that he liked them a bit too much. It was that reason he so desperately wanted you to stop sometimes, he hated the way his cock would betray him when you made dirty comments.

Fuck knows the last time he got his dick wet and touching himself was near impossible most the time, he was depraved, frustrated.

He knew for sure that if you ever made even a hint that you weren’t joking he’d be all over you in an embarrassing time.

Right now you were tarring the squad van out of enemy territory with Ghost in the passenger seat clutching his shoulder making incredibly questionable moans.

“Shit” 

he whispered through gritted teeth as you hit a bump

“sorry sir, roads a bit bumpy”

you apologised, watching him from the corner of your eye. The grimace of pain that was painted in his eyes was…oddly attractive “Hmm fuck” his voice purred right in your chest

“Jesus L.T you been shot or are you getting your dick sucked?”

You bantered. He shifted in his seat, blood trickling between his fingers

“don’t think you’d know what that sounds like sweetheart”

he retorted and you chuckled “no but I’d loveee to find out” you smirked and ghost just glared “shut the fuck up fox” he said flatly.

“Oooh you gonna make me sir?”

You giggled knowing full well you were pushing your luck now, Ghosts grip tightened and he sighed hard “drive” was all he said with a tone you don’t hear from him often. You lifted your hands apologetically with out leaving the wheel

“alright, alright, I’ll stop….how you holding up?”

You asked, changing the subject. Your lieutenant rested his head back onto the seat “I’m fine, just keep your eyes on the road” you could tell he wasn’t really okay but you knew better than to challenge your superior and so you focused on getting to base as fast as possible.

You pulled up fast outside the medic tent and quickly got out to open the passenger door for him, you wanted to offer your hand for support but you knew better than that. After you’d seen ghost inside and made sure the medic was seeing to his gun shot wound you went to quickly freshen yourself up before being called to help distribute some supplies.

You saw one labeled first aid and you quickly picked it up, seizing your chance to go check on your lieutenant. You pushed through the tent opening and surprisingly found it quite empty, only the medic could be seen washing his hands. You placed the supply box down on a bench nearby

“how’s he doing?”

You asked and the medic chuckled “well..he’s patched up” he nodded his head to one of the tented off areas at the back and you nodded in acknowledgement.

“Lieutenaaant”

you sang out before gently pulling back the sheet that covered the space, your eyes quickly met the form of ghosts topless body, littered with old scars and bruises that were still healing. A thick bandage now covered the fresh entry and exit wound on his shoulder from the bullet.

Your eyes trailed the length of his muscular body, taking note of the prominent veins that popped beneath his weirdly soft looking skin. Of course he was still wearing that damn balaclava, his blood soaked shirt discarded on the floor 

“oh hellooo sailor”

you whistle with a raise of your eyebrows. Ghost, for once in his life, looked surprised before it quickly turned to his usual grimace, he sighed heavy as he lent back onto the cart that held medical supplies

“the hell are you doing in here?”

He questioned. Your eyes were still fixed on his body, taking every moment to savour the most amount of skin you’d ever seen of this man

“just droppin’ off a box of supplies and thought I’d check in on ya….glad I did”

you giggled finally meeting his eyes. Ghost folded his arms, chest being pushed up against his forearms and you noticed the little amused huff he gave. Despite his usual cold demeanour you could tell he found your banter amusing at times, like a dad who didn’t want to laugh at his child’s inappropriate jokes because the wife would tell him off.

He had to keep up the power balance of him being your lieutenant, can’t have you thinking you’re allowed to step out of line. Not with out punishment that is

“You should get back to it then soldier… t’s not wise to be ogling your superior”

he said lowly but you only stepped closer, too close 

“awh come on sir, at least let me savour the view first…ya know, for later” you smirked and he swallowed thickly at your hint. The implication you’d touch yourself to the image of him was too much, it was sending his mind into overdrive.

It wasn’t often he stopped using his brain and started being controlled by his dick but right now he was so fucking horny just being alone in this tented off space was enough to get his hormones flipping out.

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you ya know that”

he purred, his eyes going dark and palms sweating as he looked down at you, so fucking close he thought, he could be on you before you even had time to realise.

“so I’ve been told” you replied and you dared to try touch his chest but your wrist was quickly gripped hard.

“s’gonna get you in a lot of trouble one day”

his voice low and heavy as he glared down at you still holding your wrist in a vice grip, your heart beating a million miles an hour at the close proximity and tension that weighs heavy in your throat every time you breathe. The air felt thick, this was different to your usual flirty banter, felt like the tension had finally reached the limit and had nothing to do but snap. 

“I believe it already has sir”

your voice barely a whisper, you were really walking on thin ice now

“it appears so”

he said, you maintained the heavy eye contact he was holding as his hand slipped from your wrist and traveled up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its path. Reaching your shoulder and then your neck, thumb grazing over your pulse, he noticed the way it was thumping under his touch.

He gently grazed your jawline before slipping his grip into the back of your hair, so fast you couldn’t even register the movement. You inhaled sharply at the tight tug on the roots of your hair, your hand instinctively coming to hold onto his wrist. You both stared silently for a moment before ghost lent in, resting right by your ear, you could hardly breathe

“you wanna know what I really sound like?”

For a split second you didn’t understand, until you remembered what you’d said in the truck earlier and suddenly it felt like your stomach may vacate your body.

“Y..yes sir”

you said breathlessly, the mask of your nonchalant flirtatious attitude slipping away as it suddenly became reality. Ghost lent back, his grip loosening and coming to hook under your jaw, pulling your eyes up to meet his since he was just so much fucking taller than you.

“go on then”

he cocked a brow and you could hear the smirk in his voice, the cocky shit, you felt like a deer in the headlights of an 18 wheeler.

“really?” you questioned in disbelief, he rested back onto the cart again and waited expectingly “really” he repeated. You blinked, wide eyed while your brain rebooted, slowly falling to your knees just in front of him, your face for sure flushed a deep shade of pink.

He felt the tension in his pants grow almost impossibly tighter at the sight, the anticipation of what you were going to do, he couldn’t remember the last time he got his dick sucked.

Too long for sure.

You fumbled with his heavy belt, the significant bulge reaching down the inside of his thigh made your hands sweaty as you pictured it. You ran your fingers over the length, earning a heavy sigh from the man and then placed a trail of kisses down to the tip which had him grinding his hips forward.

Every time you glanced up you were met with that constant eye contact, making your heart pound over and over. Now that you’d unbuckled his belt and pants it was time to free the monster so to speak, shit you were nervous, what if he didn’t like it? Thought you were shit, what if you fucked up and scraped your teeth against him? Oh the embarrassment. Worst of all what if you couldn’t make him cum? Fuck, you’d have to leave the task force for sure, move country, get a new profession, change your name.

All the over thinking was making your mouth dry and that was definitely not what you needed before sucking a dick. You closed your eyes and shook your head ever so gently to mentally reset yourself and you couldn’t help the smirk that spread on your face as you realised just how crazy this was “something funny?” Ghost questioned and you shook your head

“no….well, just this is so crazy, I mean I’m actually about to suck your dick. You, my lieutenant”

ghost hummed in acknowledgement.

“quite the situation you’ve got yourself into sweetheart”

he purred, reaching to pull the band of his boxers down exposing the base of his cock, thick veins snaking down his shaft. You felt yourself throbbing at the sight, the way his hands looked, the veins on his arms and flexed muscles, the trail of hair from his belly button.

The scent of natural musk and sweat coming from him had you feeling almost animalistic, slick coating your underwear 

“hmm come on sir, get your cock out already, I’m dying to see”

you bit your lip. Trailing your hands along the soft skin of his abdomen he throbbed when you got inches away from his dick

“shit, dirty girl”

he hummed as he finally pulled himself free, thick and heavy hanging over the waist of his boxers and pants. Oh my fucking god it was gorgeous, perfect, mouth watering. You wasted no time taking hold of it, your fingers just barely connecting

“holy shit L.T how do you walk with this thing?” You said bewildered.

“I’d say a 3rd leg makes walking easier”

he quipped, fuck he’s self aware “fuck off” you bantered and ghost chuckled.

It kept throbbing in your grip, heavy as you stroked the full length, a clear bead seeping from the tip which you eagerly dragged along your tongue while your eyes stayed locked on his. The feeling of your tongue sent a shiver up his spine, the hairs on his arm standing on end as he stared at your mouth.

The hot, wet hole he wanted to fuck so bad taunting him and when you finally sealed your lips around the head he groaned almost pathetically desperate. You wished you had the self control to slowly tease him, working his dick until he whined and begged but right now you just wanted him to fuck your mouth. Wanted to feel him sitting hot and heavy on your tongue, wanted his blunt head to force it’s way down your throat, wanted to taste the salty thick cum at the end of it all and prove your loyalty by swallowing it. Ghosts head lolled back as the pleasure swept his body

“fuuuuck”

he groaned deeply, his hand coming down to encompass the back of your head, almost able to fully cover the circumference. You hummed with lust while taking him as deep as you could, it wasn’t his full length but it didn’t seem like he minded, probably just happy to be getting his dick sucked.

He held your head steady and ever so gently fucked his hips into you, spit started to slip down your chin, the thickness of his dick pushing it out with every movement. Ghost never let up on his noises, moaning and purring deep in his throat constantly, it would be no secret what was going on behind these curtains if anyone overheard.

One hand stayed braced on his muscular thigh as you moved the other to cup his heavy balls, he jolted a bit at the touch but soon cursed hard when you started gently fondling them.

“Bloody hell fox”

it was laced with his heavy accent “shit that’s good” his hold on the back of your head suddenly became a tight grip, once again tugging on your hair. You were no longer in control of your head, ghost taking complete dominance, you just had to do your best to not choke or gag but tears were starting to weep from your eyes. When ghost looked down to see your sweet eyes filled with glossy tears, eyebrows furrowed together and soft pink-lips parted over his cock he felt his balls tighten painfully 

“oh sweetheart..keep looking at me like that and I won’t last”

That didn’t exactly make you stop, the idea you could make him cum so easy was only incentive for you, wanted him to never forget it. You took the hand that was playing with his balls and wrapped it around the head of his cock, placing your mouth on the end and stroking down his length until it entered your mouth again.

You used your hand and mouth to jerk him off for probably all of 5 seconds before he was forcing your movements to still, breathing out a heavy

“careful”

it was a low husk laced with lust. You smirked devilishly “why?” Continuing to lick the tip but his tight grip in your hair soon pulled you away but you quickly defied him and continued working your hand.

Eventually ghost gave up trying to resist, giving in to your movements and releasing his grip on you in favour of leaning back

“Jesus christ”

he said in ecstasy, you felt him trembling, twitching and throbbing all over. He was close, so close and you never imagined such a wall of a man to be so vocal and trembling when getting his dick sucked. Ghost could feel the twinge every time your hand slid over the sensitive tip, he wouldn’t lie he felt embarrassed to be cuming so fast but shit you knew how to work his cock.

When he started practically panting and knuckles going white you knew that was the cue so you stuck out your tongue and stroked him against it. That face, that fucking face, eyes blown with lust, hot tongue acting as a pillow for his dick, Jesus it had him cuming hard.

Thick globs of hot white coating your tongue and lips as he moaned like a porn star, you’re gonna replay that sound in your memory so many times for sure. His chest still heaved as he burned the image of his cum decorating your mouth into his wank bank.

“Fuck, keep looking at me” 

he husked, cock still bobbing with post orgasm sensitivity “look so good like that” he watched as you used your tongue to swipe his cum from your lips. 

As you were still licking the mess up you both heard someone enter the tent, ghost quickly stuffed his softening cock back into his pants and you just about got to your feet before footsteps approached the bay “L.T?” Soaps voice called.

Your eyes shot wide and ghost gave you a look that said “act fuckin’ normal” as he called back to the man, your comrade pulled back the curtain and raised a brow when he saw you both.

“S’goin on in here?“

he smiled suspiciously “Johnny” ghosts commanding voice replied as though he wasn’t just trembling and whining moments ago. Soap flicked his eyes between you two, your hair still slightly messed and face flushed, he was definitely suspicious but he remained casual

“just checkin you’re good sir, been in here a while is all, men were askin”

he motioned behind him. Ghost cleared his throat, noticing the way his belt was still loosely undone

“I’m fine McTavish, take more than a bullet to the shoulder to kill me”

and soap laughed “too right L.T”. Soap gave a gentle nod to ghost and winked at you before starting to leave when he stoped in his tracks

“oh sir…put a shirt on, yeah?”

He smirked and left leaving the both of you to linger in the embarrassment. When your eyes flicked back to ghost his gaze was already fixed on you, he gestured for you to come to him and you did. He stroked your face, moving your hair out the way

“I guess I should go”

you mumbled kinda forlornly and ghost hummed in agreement. His hand snaked down your waist to your ass and squeezed a handful “come to my tent later” he suggested against the skin of your neck, clothed lips leaving a trail.

“Oh? Was that not enough? You horndog lieutenant”

You joked but your breath hitched when one of his hands moved to your waistline and teased at the skin underneath. Your heart was racing again

“Hmm no, I’m just not the kind of guy to not return the favour”

Oh, oh my god. You bit your lip at the thought

“Is that so?”

“It is”

“Well then, my hands are tied” you smirked before placing a longing gentle kiss over his balaclava, having to get on the balls of your feet to reach.

“Go on soldier” Ghost smacked your ass as you turned to leave, making you flinch, and you had to quickly wipe the wide smile from your face before you left the med tent.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley smut #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #babygirl ghost #ghost fanfiction #Ghost mw2 smut #mw2 smut #mw2ghost #smut writers #smut blog #dark content #dark content writer #mdni

[oneforthemunny]

don't fear the reaper |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part 7

prompt: your introduction to eddie's ex-wife goes less than ideal.

age gap. reader is 26, Eddie is 42. everything is consensual. if you don't like it, don't read plz.

contains: language, dilf!eddie, older!eddie, age gap, angst, gina is Eddie's ex wife and she's really mean :(

"Can you get that, sweet thing?" Eddie asks, screwdriver in hand, hunched over the little set of drawers that he was assembling, tongue poked out in concentration.

You'd been happily watching him build all morning, a warm and light feeling buzzing through your body. You grinned cheekily to yourself when Eddie slipped on a pair of reading glasses before he had started. He looked over them at you, peering over the black frames with an exaggerated stare, pointing a warning finger playfully in your direction.

"Not a word. Understand, missy?" His tone was stern, playful, pulling a string of giggles from your chest. Your cheeks flush at his tone, tipping your head to the side to admire him. The way the veins in his hand protruded when he tightened something with the screwdriver, his tongue poking out in concentration. 

Eddie had just established the base of the drawers when there was a knock at the door. You stood, setting down your mug on the coffee table. "Should be Brielle. She's always forgettin' her key." Eddie sighed, a firm eye roll.

You opened the door, ready to see the girl who resembled your boyfriend so much- same eyes, dimples, cheeks. She'd been at her mom's all weekend, and you were happy to have her back, now that things were better with you two. You smiled widely, eyes lighting up, a welcome on the tip of your tongue.

Instead, you were greeted with a pair of piercing eyes, narrowed at you from the moment you opened the door, unfamiliar and challenging.

You blinked, looking at the woman in front of you, jarred and a little frightened. You knew her, how could you not? Gina, Eddie's ex-wife, Brielle's mother. You’d seen the photos- maybe, done a stalk on Facebook with your best friend. 

Gina's lips twisted, a scoff falling from them that had you stepping back in the doorway. "I'll be goddammed." She said every word slowly, dripped in venom. Your heart hammered, eyes wide, caught, scared.

Brielle squirmed, eyes sympathetically meeting yours. She was uncomfortable, intimidated too, though you weren’t really sure why. "Mom, I'm here now. You can go back in the car-"

"Nuh-uh." Gina snapped, eyes never leaving yours. You felt exposed under her gaze, vulnerable, wrapping your arms around your middle protectively. "I wanna meet the new girl your dad has you hangin' around. Make sure she's not being a bad influence on my baby." Her words were nearly mocking, your hand gripping the door in a white knuckled grasp.

Eddie's heavy footsteps appeared behind you, shoulders falling when he saw Gina. "For fuckssake, Gina..." He sighed, annoyed, exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, hello to you, too, Edward." Gina spat the name like it was a bad taste in her mouth, lips curling into a snarl. Her teeth barred, like a predator to prey- amused. This was a game to her. One she was very good at, apparently. 

"The fuck are you doin', huh?" Eddie threw his arm out, looking down at Gina, standing at his full height. "You don't have better things to do?"

Gina laughed, humorless, eyes rolling. "Not when it comes to our child." Gina snapped. She paused, lips pursing, icy eyes sliding over your frame, sending shivers down your spine. "Sorry, I guess I should say our daughter, looks like you have another child in your life."

Your heart dropped, stammering lightly. Gina gave you a smug, challenging look. Brielle looked down, shifting on her feet. "Mom, can you stop? It's embarrassing-"

"Oh, I'm embarrassing?" Gina snapped, looking at her daughter. Brielle recoiled slightly, shrinking under her gaze. "But your father prancing around with jail bait isn't-"

"Alright, Gina, that's enough." Eddie growled, stepping in front of you. They glared at each other, so angry, full of hatred. "You wanna say some shit to me? Fine, but leave her out of this. And have some decency to not do this in front of Brie." He bit, glaring down the slope of his nose at her. 

Gina gasped, loud and accusatory. "Don't you dare, Eddie, don't you even fuckin' dare." She pointed a long, manicured nail at him, jabbing it at him. "Don't pull the bad mom card on me when you're dating someone the same age as Brielle!"

"She is not the same age, Gina, what the fuck-"

"Sweetheart," Gina turned to you, the pet name Eddie usually adorned to you was covered in malice, making your blood run cold. "How old are you?" She mocked you, spoke to you like you were a child- like you spoke to your kids at school. 

"Twenty-s-six." You stammered dumbly, heart pounding in your ears. It was nine in the morning, you weren't exactly prepared to be berated and harassed like this, this early.

Gina's lips pressed together, eyebrows shooting up. She scoffed, loud and derisive. "Twenty-six?" She repeated, each syllable rolling off her tongue furiously, looking at Eddie with a glare so cold it made you shiver.

 "So, when I had Brielle, you were what? Nine, ten?" She laughed, but she wasn't amused. It was a mean girl mocking laugh, one that took you back to days in middle school in the locker room at gym. "And Eddie, what were you doing then? Twenty-six years ago? Oh, that's right, you were still selling weed to high-school kids to support the baby-"

"Gina, I'm not doing this shit with you." Eddie seethed, jaw set and eyes hard. He glared at her, eyes flicking over to Brielle, who shrunk into herself, eyes on the steps. You could see the guilt wash over Eddie, jaw ticking and eyes softening. "Get in here, baby girl. I'll be just a second." He guided Brielle in, hand protectively on the back of her head, giving you a small nod before shutting the door.

You and Brielle stood in the doorway, not moving, eyes glued on the wooden door. Your heart was hammering in your throat, stopping and speeding when you would hear the muffled words and screams from the other side. A rollercoaster of emotions, tummy dropping and turning, twisting and seeking further and further into your nerves. 

"She's a fuckin' child, Ed!"

"Gina, are you out of your fuckin' mind? She's an adult, a teacher. A really great teacher-"

"Probably because she's the same age as them! They have so much in common!"

"Oh, fuck off, Gina. Aren't you married? Why the fuck do you care?"

"I don't want someone like that around my daughter! What kind of example is this? Whoring herself with some old guy!"

"She is not-"

"-How would you feel if Brie was doing this, huh? Fucking around with a guy twice her age?"

Your stomach dropped when Eddie didn't reply. You felt the color drain, feeling sick to your stomach. Brielle looked at you carefully, fingers twisting around her overnight bag, wringing them nervously.

"That's what I thought." Gina's voice was firm, smug. "I don't know what you're going through, Eddie, but this is a lot. Even for you."

"Get the fuck outta my house, Gina." Eddie growled, heavy footsteps moving towards the door. You could hear her muffled, biting response, mean and biting even through the door.

You stepped back just as Eddie threw the door open, eyes furious and blazing. He ran a hand over his scruff, free hand balled by his side. He looked at you, eyes drooping gently- tired, defeated.

"'M gonna go outside." Eddie growled, stomping towards the back door. "Need a minute." His hand ran over Brie’s shoulder, comfortingly- an apology. 

You flinched when Eddie slammed the door, shaking the house. Brielle looked at you, eyes wide and cautious, embarrassed. "They... They do this all the time." She offered softly. You didn't reply, eyes still glued on the back door.

"I'm sorry..." Brielle said softly. You looked over at her. "For what my mom said." She added, rubbing her arms awkwardly. "She can be like that sometimes. Don't take it personally."

You nodded, tongue feeling thick and constricted in your mouth.

Brielle hesitated, looking from you back to the window where a stream of smoke could be seen. Eddie. She lifted her bag gently, moving down the hall to her room. You didn't move, you couldn't.

Gina's words hurt you. It made your head rattle with insecurities and racing thoughts, self doubt and humbled truths. Eddie's reaction- or lack thereof- to her final accusation had your stomach twisting, knotting. Why did it hurt you so bad? Was Eddie embarrassed of you?

Eddie came in from the backdoor, shoulders still tense but eyes softened, nicotine induced relaxation. "I'm sorry about that, bunny. She can be a real-" Eddie stopped, looking at you in the doorway.

You didn't move, stilling even at his voice, zoned on the wall in front of you. Eddie called your name softly, hands raised in a slow approach, like you were a frightened animal that might scatter. His brows furrowed, lips pulling into a soft frown. 

Your eyes met his, lip trembling gently. Eddie's face softened. "Baby, what's wrong?" He cooed, stepping towards you so he could rub his hands down your arms. "Don't let her upset you, ok? She just said all of that because wants you to be upset-"

"You didn't answer her." Your eyes flashed at him. His forehead creased in confusion. "When she said that about Brie, you didn't reply."

Eddie exhaled, tired, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, because I'm not arguing with her. It's pointless." He huffed. "All it does is make my blood pressure go up, and she just starts saying crazy shit. She thrives off that kinda attention, and it just gets worse when you give it to her. Trust me, baby." He muttered, eyes pinching shut at the thought. This was routine, a painful routine he was far too used to. 

You huffed, crossing your arms, stepping out of his grasp, anger bristling in your chest. "You answered her every other time, Ed." You bit, jaw clenching to keep your tears from falling.

Eddie threw his hands up. "What do you want me to say here? I wasn't gettin' into that with her-"

"Because you think she's right." You challenged him, brows raised in suspicion. "You think there's something wrong with this? With us?"

"No, fuck," Eddie growled, vein in his neck protruding, angry and prominent against his flushed skin. "I don't think there's anything wrong with us, ok? I wouldn't be doin' this if I did-"

"Then why didn't you say anything?" You shrieked, throwing your hands out. "You made it look like you thought that!" Your heart hammered in your chest, defensive and angry. 

Eddie's eyes bulged, head jutting forward. "Why? I wasn't lettin' her use my daughter against me like that ok? It's fucked up, and she knows what she's doin'! She knows it'll piss me off, and I'll fight with her the way she wants, and I'm not doin' that!" He boomed, voice bouncing off the walls, echoing into your ears.

Your eyes cut down the hall towards Brielle's room. Eddie huffed, shaking his head. You stood in silence, Eddie shaking his head, exhaling a short huff of air.

"I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry I didn't say anything to her, I just-" Eddie stopped himself. "I was done. Done letting her say shit to you, to me, and she always drags Brie into the middle of it to try and make me feel bad or-or fight with her more."

You looked down at your feet. "I'm sorry." You muttered.

Eddie shook his head. "You don't have nothin' to be sorry for-"

"No, I'm sorry." You said sincerely, eyes lifting to him. "I'm sorry she does that to you. 'S not right."

Eddie's face softened, lines smoothing when you grabbed his hand, holding it gently, pressing kisses into his palm. "I don't think there's anything wrong with us. I was just scared...you did."

Eddie gave a lopsided smile, pulling you into him by your waist. "Nuh-uh," Eddie smirked, lips moving to your cheek, soft feathery kisses pressing against your skin.

"Just like a pretty little thing like you to keep me young." He teased, large hands giving your ass a firm squeeze, smiling as you squealed into his ear. "Nothin' wrong with that."

You smiled, moving his curly tendrils out of his face. He kissed you fully, lips sliding over yours in a passionate kiss that had your cheeks heating. "Don't listen to her, alright?" Eddie muttered against your lips.

You nod, looking over your shoulder, face falling when you look at Brielle's door. Eddie followed your gaze, shoulders dropping. "Was she upset?" He asked.

You shrugged lightly. "She said she did it all the time... Apologized to me for what she said." You muttered.

Eddie cringed gently, air exhaling out his mouth in a loud sigh. "'M just gonna go check on her." He said, eyes softening to look at you. "See where the hell she wants these drawers too." He huffed, motioning to the unfinished project in the living room.

You grinned, smacking his ass playfully in his sweatpants. "Go check on her." You teased, winking at him.Eddie raised his brows, grinning before pointing at you. "You better watch yourself, little girl." He purred, smirking at your blistering flush.

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #eddie munson #funsonmunson #eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader angst #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson angst #older!dilf!eddie munson #older!eddie #older!eddie munson #older!dilf!eddie #older!eddie munson x reader #dilf!eddie munson x reader #dilf!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #divorced!Eddie munson

[autisticlenaluthor]

Maroon

“That’s what you’re wearing?” 

It’s the first thing Kara says when she opens the door. Her eyes go wide and her brows shoot up– an involuntary response to the sight in front of her. And immediately, Lena retracts. She smiles, the way she always does when uncomfortable, and lifts her hands in defense. 

“Shoot– I’m sorry, I don’t mean it like that,” Kara stammers.  “You look great– I mean, you always look great, really! I- I don’t know why I said that. Like– you could step on me, and I’d probably thank you.” 

She doesn’t know why that last bit slips out either. But it does. And for a solid five seconds, she freezes, beet-faced as she stares at Lena, who stares back, with brows raised so high her forehead creases to accommodate them. 

“I am… so sorry for that,” Kara murmurs after what feels like an eternity. 

She steps aside so her friend can enter the apartment and awkwardly adjusts her glasses, mentally kicking herself for, well, everything.

Because really, Lena doesn’t look bad. If anything, it’s the opposite. In a black button-down and plaid dress pants, Lena remains the most stunning woman Kara has ever seen. For embarrassing as they all were, not a word of Kara’s ramblings had been dishonest. 

“I just…” Kara shuts the door and fidgets uncomfortably as she approaches Lena. “It’s like a million degrees out, are you gonna be comfortable?” 

“I just came from work,” Lena responds. Her voice is flat, her posture stiff. 

“I- I know,” Kara says. “You do look very good.” 

Lena smiles. “Thank you.” 

She sucks in a breath and glances down at herself. She’d had a feeling this wasn’t the most appropriate attire. Kara had invited her to a baseball game at Aztec Stadium- not to a dinner party or board room. Now that she sees herself next to Kara, she does feel pretty ridiculous. 

“Could I…” Lena sucks in a breath. “Do you have something I could borrow?” 

“Oh– yeah, of course. Come with me!” 

They spend the next fifteen minutes in Kara’s bedroom, Lena perched on the edge of the bed while Kara digs through her closet. 

“I can’t wait to get nachos,” she says. “I know technically liquid cheese is kind of disgusting. But I feel like the rules don’t really apply at baseball games.” 

Lena hums and nods. 

“I’ve actually never been to one,” she says. 

Kara turns around, holding a few hangers and pairs of pants. 

“Any kind of sports, thing, really. Unless you count high school fencing.” Lena laughs as she says it. “But, I was the one doing the fencing.” 

“You fenced?”

“Yeah. For about three years.”

Kara pauses and folds the clothes over her arm. 

“Why’d you stop?” 

Lena shrugs. “I guess I got bored.” 

“You got bored sword fighting?” 

“Yeah, well…” Lena gives a teasing smile and raises an eyebrow. She’s going to make a remark about how she is a Luthor and after a while, the weaponry in fencing begins to feel a bit juvenile. But she keeps it in, unsure of how a joke like that will land. 

Thankfully, Kara doesn’t seem to notice the hesitation. She stays in the swing of things and holds up two pieces from her pile– a maroon tank top and jeans. 

“What about this?” She asks. 

“I don’t know…” Lena stretches out the words.

She tilts her head and scrunches up her nose as she says it. Kara can pull the look off. She’s nothing if not beautiful in her National City Warriors t-shirt and ripped denim shorts. But with her, it’s different. Because Kara’s muscular and tall. She’s got a sunshine smile and the softest golden waves. And as goofy as she may be, with her baseball cap and fanny pack slung across her body, she’s still her. She’s still perfect.

“Don’t you think I’ll look silly?” 

“No, I think you’ll look cute,” Kara answers without an ounce of hesitation. “But it’s up to you.”

Lena rises from the bed and steps forward to take the outfit from her friend. She wants to ask if Kara has another one of those big tees but the words escape her.

“Okay,” she says after a moment. “I’ll try it.” 

She strips and changes in front of her (with Kara, it’s never felt strange) while Kara talks to her about everything going on at CatCo. The new intern who Ms. Grant brought to tears on her first day (she brought her a mocha instead of a white mocha) and the techie who was fired for trying to steal one of the company tablets. 

“Lena!” Kara exclaims when she’s done. 

“What?”

Instinctive arms wrap themselves around Lena’s abdomen. She’s so exposed in this. Her stomach protrudes over the waistline of the jeans and the unfaded stretch marks she normally covers with concealer are visible. She’s too casual, she’s too sloppy, too–

“You look so good!”

Kara claps her hands together. She’s smiling so bright her eyes get all squinty and dimples appear on either side of her mouth.

“Wait- can I do something? Can I touch your hair?” She asks. 

Kara's s so happy Lena can’t help but oblige. She nods and smiles, letting her friend come over to her and carefully take the bobby pins out of her bun. She moves slowly with hands so gentle. It’s a welcome break from the nights when Lena gets home and rips them out fast enough that they take clumps of hair with them. 

“You look so nice,” Kara softly reiterates as she removes the first hair tie. “I don’t know what it is but you just… you feel so human, I guess.” 

The bun collapses into a ponytail and Kara carefully pulls out the second hair tie. She rakes smooth fingers through Lena’s hair, pulling it all back behind her shoulders. 

“Human?” Lena chuckles. 

“Yeah… I guess I’ve never really seen you outside of your work clothes. You’re always so put together but you just– I mean, you’re always beautiful. And now…” Kara hesitates. She needs something to do with her hands, so she goes back to combing out Lena’s hair. She can feel her face filling with heat, thankful Lena’s back is to her. “You feel less… less far away. Like, you’re less of an entity and more…” 

Lena turns around. Her expression is relaxed, save the knit in her brow, like she finally released the breath she’d been hanging onto. 

For a moment, she waits, clinging to Kara’s every last word, needing to know where she’ll land. But Kara falls quiet. She’s too focused on the inch of space between them. They’re so close she can smell Lena’s warm vanilla lotion and the faint scent of coffee on her breath, see the scab from where she chews her lip, and the freckles under faded foundation. 

“You…” She tries again but the word gets caught in her throat. 

“Kara?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I…”

Lena takes Kara’s hand in hers, intertwining their fingers as she steps forward and closes the gap between them. When their lips touch, she waits to feel the fireworks. The butterflies in her stomach, fluttering and pouncing with glee. But instead of an explosion that overtakes her, it’s a calm that washes over her body. Warmth that starts where Kara’s body meets hers, radiating all the way down to the tips of her toes.

It feels right. It feels safe. 

When she finally pulls away, Kara’s sunshine smile instantly returns. 

“You good?” She asks with a laugh, giving Lena’s hand a squeeze. 

“Yeah,” Lena says, smiling in a way that causes her nose to get all scrunchy and small. “I’m really good.”

#supercorptober2023 #supercorptober #supercorp ficlet #supercorp fanfiction #lena luthor #kara danvers

[spacexseven]

Trying to find the post I originally saw it from would take too long and plus the person who made it didn't go into detail they just said "reader with a God ability" like I'm guessing an ability that makes you God or something? I'm not too sure but if you want you can try to make it into something

But I REALLY wanted to know how would Fyodor would react because you know the story with him and god

basically reader is a kind of (forgotten) god but i didnt go too much into it so feel free to imagine whatever you'd like ^^

cw: yandere character

sometimes it occurred to you that divinity, in a world of gifted people, was ultimately meaningless. after all, who would choose to believe in a god—a presence so unclear and foreign—when they had people with powers only gods could have? when there were people with powers that defied logic, powers that decimated cities, and powers that could change the fate of the one affected within moments, what did your divinity matter?

what could you do that some ability user out there couldn't?

despite knowing there wasn't anything you could offer to regular people, you liked to walk down their streets and watch them go on about their day. there was something captivating about their lives, something that resembled what you had lost a long time ago. though in this bleak part of yokohama, most of the people you saw seemed to be weighed down by regret.

once in a while, you'd see some spectacular show of power—paper turning into a weapon, accidental deaths that you knew were not supposed to happen, people on the brink of death brought back to life in perfect health—such things did not amaze you as much as they worried you. maybe that worry came from a place of inadequacy, knowing that your own powers, while typical for a divine being, was overall unimpressive compared to these wonderful and terrifying feats.

however, the worry and the shame did not compare to the delight that followed when talking to someone. you felt alone, isolated by the things you knew and had seen as compared to the mundane lives most people lived, yet you yearned for company. most people were too busy to talk to you when they saw you seated alone, and some were put off by the strange feeling that something about you was not exactly human, but there was always someone who'd approach you first, and those people were almost always the ones that stuck with you the longest. years ago, it was a man wearing a hat and holding a cane, and more recently, a woman with red hair.

and now, it was this man with dark hair and amethyst eyes.

the very moment fyodor uttered his first words to you, you could already tell that he was unlike anyone else you had talked to before. there was something about him that was simultaneously alluring and unsettling, something that glinted in his dark eyes that told you that he knew everything you were trying to hide. even the way he held your hand in his felt like he was trying to sense something from you. still, his expression did not change—calmness evident in his face when yours was definitely teeming with intrigue. it should have embarrassed you that a human was better than you at controlling his emotions.

but there was something unusual about fyodor—the way he carried himself, the contrast between his sharp gaze and sleepy smile, the words he spoke—you could already tell that he was someone destined for great destruction. (or maybe, he was destined to be the harbinger of destruction?) he spoke to you like you were an old friend, someone he had known all his life, not finding any unease in slipping into deep conversation. his voice was soft, but each word felt purposeful.

and then, he mentioned his belief in god.

"what does a god matter," you finally asked the question that had been plaguing you for all this time, "in a world of people that are treated as gods?"

he smiled at you then, like he had been expecting it, "that is simply a result of the follies of man. isn't it disgraceful that they think of themselves as gods?"

"but what can a god do for you that some ability user out there can't?"

"what i sought, what i received, was guidance," he whispered, "my eyes were opened to the truth, and i realized my purpose. ability users parade themselves as gifted, special, but they only bring misfortune."

your heart wavered then, for the man in front of you. you never believed that ability users were blessed, or whatever some groups liked to say. in some cases, it appeared to be more of a curse than a blessing. something unwanted. was he haunted by himself as well? before you could stop yourself, your next words leaped out of your mouth, revealing your identity and subsequently confirming his suspicions.

"if so, what does that make you?"

he smiled then, wider than before. the very sight sent chills down your spine, even though very little still scared you now. he straightened up, clasping your hands within his with a newly gained fervor, with more strength than he appeared to have.

"a sinner seeking repentance from you."

you exhaled sharply, but he wasn't finished, "i know now for sure that this is the right path, and under your guidance, i will deliver your judgment, and i will reinstate you to your former glory."

danger was easy to miss when it looked like fyodor dostoevsky, and it was too late for you now. realization dawned on you a moment too late, as tendrils of consciousness slipped away from you.

among the ghosts of yokohama, fyodor was the harbinger of great destruction. and his reign of terror would start with yours.

#heres a game; can you tell all the abilities + ability users ive referenced here? #this is me practising writing oneshots btw which is why its like way too long #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd x reader #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere fyodor dostoevsky #yandere fyodor #yandere fyodor x reader #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #bsd x you #bsd x reader #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #ask 🐟 #bsd 🐟 #fyodor 🐟 #drabble 🐟 #god reader 🐟