#if you follow them down their paths long enough

[ceesimz]

My Soul, It Did Decide!

Part 2 of this!

Here it is, as promised. I thought it was too long but I couldn't decide what to take out, so have it all. It was supposed to be done and out for Friday but when the Northern Lights come knocking you gotta go find them😅 Enjoy! Title of P1 is from my favourite Little Simz song 'Angel', this one from 'Worth It.' by Raye!

Adjusting to life with a child was as daunting as expected; having a whole human being depend on you was quite possibly the most terrifying thing in the world. Yet, when wide brown eyes stared up at you in the dead of the night and ten little fingers gripped just one of yours, it felt like you were made for it.

Newborns were possibly the laziest species of all, and you loved it. The first few weeks of her life, all Anaís did was eat, sleep, eat, and sleep some more. That left plenty of time for you to marvel at every little thing about her; the few wisps of dark brown hair she had, her perfect button nose, her tiny feet that were ever-moving, and her hands with the most adorable nails you'd ever seen, if that was possible. Not to mention the smell of her, which you thought was a myth, how women were obsessed with the smell of their baby, but you weren't embarrassed to admit it was entirely true. Alexia loved to tease you about it, but when one time in the middle of the night you'd caught her doing the exact same thing as you, she reluctantly gave in and joined you in your opinion.

The beauty of parenthood unfolds in countless ways, and the wonder of seeing the world anew through your child's eyes is unparalleled. You'd come to learn that even the simplest things made to be the most incredible memories. But the thing that got you the most though, was not only the prospect of all the memories your family were going to make, but what life Anaís might live.

Would she follow in Alexia's footsteps and become a football legend? Would she follow your path instead, a more educated and business led one? Would she become a doctor and save hundreds of lives, would she become the first astronaut to land on Mars, or would she spend her life living at home with you and Alexia? You didn't care what she would grow to be, your first rule of parenting was to never hold expectations against them beyond the normal ones of being kind and whatnot. The pride you felt towards her at such a young age was so extreme and overwhelming, you couldn't begin to process what it would be like when she came into her own as a person. Truly, there was no greater joy than being a parent, that much was true, and you hadn't even experienced any of the larger milestones yet.

There were moments over your life, before Anaís, where you worried about how much you'd be able to handle a child. Sometimes you wondered if you even wanted kids, but the thought of not having Anaís in your world now was... god, you couldn't even imagine it.

Even when she was screaming at the top of her lungs, refusing to sleep.

"Anaís, mi chiqui, por favor. Go to sleep." You begged, slowly stepping around the room whilst rocking a crying Anaís in your arms.

You'd tried it all by now, and nothing was working. Diaper change, feeding her, soothing her, cuddling her, everything you could think of. But nothing was good enough. There were tears brimming in your own eyes, thoroughly exhausted due to the restless night Anaís had had so far, and it seemed the end wasn't in sight yet.

"Please, please, little one." You sniffled, your emotions finally consuming you as one of your tears fell to merge with Anaís' own on her cheeks. "I don't get what's wrong!"

For all you knew, Alexia was in the bedroom a few feet down the hallway, soundly asleep. Blissfully unaware of the difficulties you faced in the next room over. Selfishly, the thought only made matters worse. A strangled shout escaped you before you could stop it, stressing both yourself and Anaís out inexplicably more.

By the grace of something your shattered mind couldn't name, that last call out from you had awoken the Spaniard, and she soon came stumbling into the nursery, instantly sobered from her sleep upon the sight she walked into.

Your face was red from stress and sobs, Anaís' tiny little cheeks matching yours as her face scrunched uncomfortably with each scrike she let out, and you only cried more at the sight of Alexia.

"Mi amor, what's happening?" Alexia rushes over to you, cautiously taking Anaís from your arms as her eyes flick worryingly between you both.

"She won't stop crying!" You sob, hiding your face into her neck. "I've d-done every- everything, she just won't stop."

"Okay, okay. Hey, what time is it, amor? Can you check for me please? Just that one thing, my love, that's all." Alexia asks, hoping there was a remaining part of your overwhelmed mind that was still lucid.

"Um, it's- it's almost four, I think." You choke out, slumping into the rocking chair and crying into your hands.

"Thank you, amor, that's all I needed. Stay right here, can you hold our mija for just a minute whilst I get something? I will be right back, I will be really quick."

You nod, and Alexia presses a firm kiss to your forehead before placing Anaís back in your arms. The 8-week-old had almost fully exerted herself now, no more loud cries coming from her, only a few upset whines that broke your heart nonetheless. Wiping your face on the shoulder of your shirt, you cradle Anaís closely and rest your forehead against hers gently.

"I'm sorry I can't figure it out. I'm so sorry." You mutter exasperatedly, a few tears falling onto the baby's head.

Thankfully, Alexia races back into the room, holding something that would hopefully be the solution to Anaís' problem. The realisation of what was most likely wrong with her struck your heart.

"She is probably feeling unwell from her injections, amor. Let's give her some of this, it should make her feel better."

In her hand was a bottle of medicine for young infants, made for specific times like this. The previous day, Anaís had had her 8 week jabs and the doctor had suggested that she may feel a little under the weather afterwards, something that was completely normal, and the medicine Alexia held more often than not worked in the same way paracetamol did for people with cold symptoms. Anaís didn't seem to be running a fever, much to your relief, but she was obviously in some discomfort and it killed you that you hadn't thought of it.

"Yes, yes, give it her." You respond shakily, standing up as Alexia measures the right amount into the small syringe.

It takes a little while to give Anaís the small dose of medicine, having to give tiny amounts in quick intervals since she was so young, but a few minutes later she'd had it all with little fight. She's still very unsettled, but her tears have fully stopped now, instead letting out a few grunts as she wriggles restlessly.

"Hopefully she will feel better in a few minutes. Do you need anything, amor? Anything at all?" Alexia offers quietly, her hands coming up to rest on your cheeks as she wipes your tears away so delicately.

"No, I'm okay. You can go back to sleep now if you want." You tell her, not meeting her eyes.

"Hey, I'm staying with you and chiqui. Let me know how you are, sí?" Her eyebrows furrowed anxiously as her eyes assessed your face.

"I'm fine." You sniffle, but she instantly shakes her head.

"Mi amor, you seem so tired and stressed. Let's get back to bed and relax. I can text our friends that we won't make it to lunch later too?"

"No, we can still go. It'll be fine." You give her a tight-lipped smile, hoping it'll convince her, but your eyes are bloodshot and weighed down by some dark bags, and she sees straight through you.

"They know that parenting is never perfect or straight-forward, amor, we can just reschedule. You need the rest and so does Anaís, okay? I will text them. Come on, back to bed." She wraps an arm around your shoulders and guides you out of Anaís' room.

Once you're back in your shared bedroom, you sit back against the headboard and Alexia sits on the edge of the bed next to your legs. One of her hands rests on your bare knee as you wore a t-shirt and shorts in the hot summer weather, and she gazed at you with no love lost.

"She's tired herself out I think. With all the crying." You stated, unsure what to say when she's looking at you like she was. Alexia simply smiled and nodded, watching as Anaís' eyes finally fluttered shut.

"Look. She's okay now. We're all okay." She says, shifting a little closer and pressing a kiss to you cheek. "I love you. You are the best Mama that Anaís could have."

You don't reply, overridden by worries and doubts and tiredness to even consider the statement she'd made, so you just shrug and feel Anaís properly settle down, now asleep.

"Could you put her in her cot, please?"

Alexia nods immediately and stands before picking up Anaís, careful not to wake her, and murmurs a few words in Spanish to her followed by a feather-light kiss to her cheek, then she places her in the cot beside the bed. You watched the scene in front of you, it never failing to put a smile on your face even in the worse moments of parenting.

As Alexia makes her way back into bed, you shift to lay on your side facing Anaís, a position you lay in almost every night as it's reasurring to be able to see her so close to you whilst she sleeps due to the netting on the side of the crib. Alexia shifts up behind you and leans up on one elbow to press a kiss to your cheek, before hugging you tightly back into her.

"I'm proud of you. I love watching you being a Mami. It's my favourite thing ever." Alexia whispers, her thumb stroking over the soft skin of your hip under your shirt.

"Really?" You laugh humorlessly. "Even when I'm screaming and shouting and crying because I'm so fucking stressed? Because I can't help my own baby?"

Alexia frowns and rests up on one elbow again, using her other hand to press you onto your back so she can get a look at your face.

"Why would you say that?" Alexia asks in a voice that came across more stern than she wanted it.

"You saw the state of me when you walked in. It was such an obvious solution, what she needed, and it did not cross my mind at all. She was feeling poorly and I didn't notice. I couldn't figure it out." Your ranting voice trailed off with the last two sentences, your worries all-consuming in the moment.

"Oh, mi chica." Alexia sighs, laying down and urging you to curl into her side with your face hidden in her chest. "Don't say things like that, it breaks my heart. I believe in you as a parent more than anyone in the world, there's no one I trust more with our chiqui than you, amor. It is your first time being a parent, I do not blame you for anything. Nothing at a-"

"So why are you so perfect then? It's your first time too, yet you handle everything so much better than me." You cut her off with an argument that sounds more accusing than it actually was. Thankfully Alexia knew you didn't mean it maliciously, the only nasty thing in this situation was the doubtful devil on your shoulder.

"I just try my best, as do you. I still overthink every little thing I do and I still worry all the time. It's been a long and emotional day turned night and you're exhausted, it's fine that you didn't think of her feeling poorly because the doctors said it's a fifty-fifty chance she'd even fall ill. This is why we co-parent, because when one needs the other, we're always there. And when we need to rely on each other, that's absolutely fine. When we need help, that's fine too. I'm not perfect, neither of us will ever be the perfect parent, but to me you are perfect. I promise there is no one else I'd rather raise children with. Anaís loves you so much, and I love you so much."

She rambles on, words of devotion and appreciation seemingly spilling from her like it's second nature. At some point during her impromptu speech, her free hand had travelled up to your head as she lightly stroked through your hair.

"Do you hear me, amor?"

With a shy nod, you bury your face in her chest and sigh shakily.

"I love you." You mumble, your hand that rested on her waist squeezing gratefully.

"I love you too. Put that irrational voice in your head to the side and let's sleep as long as possible before she wakes up again. Then, we can relax all day. Even if that means staying in bed the whole time, and you know I never let that happen." Alexia jokes, relieved to hear the short, quiet giggle you let out. "I will always be proud of you. Comprendo? Always."

"Sí, Ale. Thank you." You murmur, taking one last glance at Anaís who is still sleeping soundly now that she's feeling better. Then you lay back down against Alexia's chest, loving nothing more than falling asleep cuddled up to her. "Is it okay for me to sleep like this?"

"More than okay, amor. Rest well."

Despite it not being the comfiest position for her, Alexia happily lays there and holds you until you fall asleep, which happens fairly quick. With a little readjustment and a disgruntled noise coming from you, she shifts to a better position before falling into a slumber soon after.

All the lows of parenting were miniscule in comparison to the highs, because when Anaís smiles so brightly for the first time in her life the next day, the events of the previous night were almost entirely forgotten. It happened whilst Alexia was downstairs making breakfast, you'd just dressed Anaís in her nursery and as you were smiling down at her, albeit tired and slightly delirious, she just returned the smile like it was something she'd been doing all her (short) life.

When Alexia made her way back upstairs, a filled breakfast tray in her arms, her heart dropped when she walked past the ajar door to Anaís' room to hear you sniffling once more. She thought it was something to do with the previous night, so she quickly set the food down in your room before racing back.

"What's wrong?" She asks tenderly, gently placing her hands on your shoulders as to not scare you.

"She, she smiled at me." You stammer, overjoyed at such a beautiful milestone.

"She what?" Alexia lightly moved you over so that she could stand beside you at the changing table, looking down at your daughter where she wiggled happily.

"She smiled at me! A big, gummy smile!" You repeated, Alexia laughing giddily.

"Really?!" She cried out. "How?"

"What do you mean, how?" You giggled, to which she lightly nudged your side and rolled her eyes.

"How did it happen?"

"I don't know, I was just looking at her and smiling at her little outfit and she smiled back." You recounted, a few sly tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

"Mm, who wouldn't smile at a face like yours, amor?" It was your turn to roll your eyes, this time at her charm. "Let me see if I can make her smile."

You watch on as Alexia delicately takes hold of Anaís feet with one hand as the other comes up to dance her fingers up and down the bottom of her feet. The reaction is almost immediate.

"Oh my god, she did it again!"

You giggle at the grin offered up by the little girl in front of you, your cheeks aching as the happiness of the moment is worth everything that you'd gone through and more. And the look on Alexia's face too? It's priceless.

All in all though, one of Alexia's biggest loves was of course football, which meant there was only so long she could go without playing. However, she also couldn't bare the thought of leaving your side for too long now that Anaís was in her life, so she opted out of the international pre-season camp that the team had organised and instead chose to stay back at home to do her own specialised camp at the Barcelona training facilities. Training days were longer compared to the little and often gym days she'd had over the last few months, but for her there was absolutely nothing better than knowing that you and Anaís were waiting for her with open arms, no matter how her day had gone.

Her new way of life gave her a completely different perspective for her career, and it felt like her motivation for, not only football, but her life in general had been completely redefined. She had a tiny human being to care for now, and everytime she kicked the ball, everytime she stepped on the pitch, every pass she completed, everything she did was done so with an urgency to be as perfect as possible. And no, that wasn't a toxic mindset, because as the past couple weeks had shown her, there was hardly such a thing called perfection. Undoubtedly she was annoyed at herself whenever she made a mistake, that would never change, but as long as Anaís still greeted her with that infamous gummy smile of hers everytime she saw Alexia, it was hard to be so negative when the meaning of her life gazed up at her like Anaís did.

However, the prize that was her career came at the expense of sometimes missing out on moments that tore her heart in two.

Ever since Anaís had first smiled, Alexia had been on a mission to achieve the next milestone: hearing her giggle for the first time. The happiness of her little girl was addictive, and she was sure that when she heard her laugh for the first time, she'd want to hear it every second for the rest of her life.

Unfortunately, timings weren't on her side.

In her hotel room, hours away from her family, she checked her phone for the first time since she got back from her game that evening to see a video you had sent. And what she was met with was so beautiful, but so heartbreaking.

With your friend behind the camera, you were stood in front of the TV screen with Alexia's game playing, holding Anaís over your head and slowly lowering her down until you can blow raspberries on her tummy. Her reaction? Letting out the most adorable, high-pitched giggle. Otherwise known as the sound Alexia had been dying to hear. With that, she dropped her phone to the bed beside where she sat and covered her face in her hands.

Of course she was over the moon at such a milestone, but she found herself moved to tears at the fact she wasn't there to witness it for herself. The person she'd go to when she was down was obviously you, but when she checked the time on her watch, she saw that it was about this part of the evening that you started Anaís' nighttime routine to get her settled. It was a precarious process and the less distractions, the smoother it goes. So instead, she turned to the the other woman of reason in her life, her own Mami.

"Hi mija. How are you?" Eli answers within two rings, herself back at home in Barcelona too.

"Hola Mami, I'm okay. Did you see the game?" Not quite possessing the willpower to open up yet, she started up a light and easy conversation.

"Of course I did, it was very good. Was Keira okay after the game? She went off, right?"

"Ah, yes, she did. Just cramp, I think." Alexia murmurs, a frown on her face as she messes with the corner of the pillow and concentrates on not falling apart so quickly. But after all, it is her own Mother she's talking to.

"And how are you, really?" There it is. That's the phase that breaks anyone who's on the verge of tears.

"Um, overall I'm okay, but tonight... a bit... not okay." Her voice cracks as she speaks, her frown more prominent as a single tear sneaks out.

"Why's that, mija?" Alexia hesitates. "You can tell me anything Ale, you know that. No matter what it is."

"Well, it's not really a secret that I'm not a big fan of travelling for football. It's always been that way and you've known that." Eli hums in acknowledgement down the line. "But now, it's... so much harder. Leaving my family at home. Anaís, she changes everyday and I'm missing that."

"And you rang me because you're too afraid to ring home, aren't you?" As ever, Eli could read Alexia inexplicably well, even hundreds of miles apart.

"Yes. Because it's not their fault, it's nobody's fault. I know it is just life and it's my choice, nobody is forcing me to continue playing, but now I'm starting to wonder if it's all worth it when I'm missing out on something so incredible. Anaís laughed for the first time this evening, and I was hours away, in a different country, on a football pitch, doing what?" Alexia scoffs, bringing a hand to her forehead with a quiet groan.

"You were out on a football pitch doing your job, achieving your dream, earning to provide a great future for your family, Alexia. It's not all for nothing, it's for everything. It's for Anaís' future and how well she gets to live, that's a privilege. It's for your future child's life and how well they get to live too. This is your dream, your Papi's dream, this is everything you've worked for all your life. Your children will get to reap the benefits from it, and you'll get to watch them grow up and lead beautiful lives because of the opportunities you will provide for them." Eli reasurres her, and Alexia begins to feel better by the second.

"I know. I know. You're right, Mami. Always."

"Sí, siempre." Eli agrees with strong conviction, making Alexia laugh quietly. "Think of how many more laughs you will hear from Anaís, Ale. You have a lifetime of laughter with her. Her first laugh, it was caught on camera, I got sent the video too. So you didn't miss it, you can watch it all night long tonight. Don't get so clouded about this, I know you and how your mind works and when your nena is back in your arms tomorrow, all this will be forgotten. But if we need a longer conversation about it, you can speak to me whenever."

"You... you get me everytime, Mami." Alexia smiles, Eli laughing heartily. "Thank you. You are right. I will get over all of this. T'estimo, I will see you tomorrow?"

"Mhm, at dinner. Ring your corazón tonight, escuchame? Hablar con ella, she will want to know. Then get some rest, sí? Mi hija, jo també t'estimo. Bona nit."

"Bona nit, Mami."

Before she got herself settled for the night, she fired off a quick text to you that asked for you to ring her when you had a moment. She knew it could be five minutes or five hours until you rang her, and she would happily accept either.

Once she had done her own night routine, she gets into bed knowing she will probably not get a lot of sleep tonight, even if she's not got to get up for a unhappy baby. With that knowledge, she grabs her phone again and watches the video from earlier. Before, she'd only gotten to the part where Anaís had giggled for the first time. What she hadn't seen though was the next few seconds of it, where the match broadcast had shown a close-up of herself. Stood to the side of the screen, your friend zoomed in on Anaís' face who had recognised her Mami on the screen and let out another burst of giggles before hiding her face in your neck.

It warmed Alexia's heart to no end, and all her thoughts from earlier flew out the window at the footage she'd just seen. Whether it was physical or not, she had been there in the moment of Anaís' milestone, and she had been there in the mind of her daughter at such a time. In fact, she had also made her laugh in the moment, and that meant the world to her. She just needed to experience it in real time now.

A little later, when she was watching some junk on the hotel TV, her phone finally rang with an incoming call from you.

"Hola, amor. Thank you for ringing me." Alexia breathes out as she lays on her side in bed.

"Of course, Ale. I watched the game, it was a good result. How are you after it? Feeling alright?" You whisper, sat up against the headboard and watching Anaís as she sleeps soundly.

"Sí, todo bien. How are you? Did Anaís get to sleep okay?" Alexia's eyes shut as she asks, picturing her daughter laughing to her heart's content.

"We're all good here, she's snoozing away beside me. Bedtime went as smooth as possible." You smile and resist the urge to reach out to take Anaís' hand, not wanting to disrupt her sleep. "With a few giggles here and there."

"I saw the video. Qué niña tan increíble es, no?"

"Isn't she just?" You sigh contentedly. "Did you see the part where she giggled at you on the TV?"

"I did. I just wish I was actually there to see it." Alexia mumbles, and you can easily detect the sadness in her voice.

"I know. I... I was in half a mind whether to send the video to you or not. Because I knew it would probably upset you, that you weren't here for it. I know how much you wanted to see it."

"No, no, I'm so glad you did. Forget the football game, it made my night. I will get to see her tomorrow, it'll be fine."

A few things you'd learnt in your time with Alexia: one, she was great at shunning her feelings to the side if it made other's lives easier. Two, she would reach a point where that habit of hers would cause a meltdown. And three, you were her weak point, and she could never shy away from pouring her heart out for too long to you.

"I know you, Ale." You state softly. "I know you're more upset than you let on."

"Mm. I was but I rang my Mami and I feel better now."

"You promise?"

"I promise." Alexia smiles, because she knows that tomorrow she'll have her daughter and the love of her life back in her arms, and it'll all be okay.

"Okay. Let me know if you want to talk about it, anytime at all." Alexia hums in acknowledgement. "I have an idea."

"What's that?"

"Tomorrow, instead of getting the coach back from the airport, why don't Anaís and I pick you up?" You suggest, knowing exactly what she needs, which is to see her daughter.

"I would love that. That would be amazing." Alexia replies breathlessly a few moments later. "I would really love that."

"Then it's a plan, hm? We'll be there, waiting for you. Might even make a sign. 'Welcome home, Mami! '" You tease, grinning when Alexia chuckles shyly.

"I have been gone for a few days only. I'm not coming home from prison, amor."

"Hm, don't lie, I know you'd love it if I did do that though. I see right through you, Alexia."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." You hear her stifle a yawn, and though it's not late, playing 90+ minutes of football whilst caring for a young baby are two things that are already exhausting in itself.

"Get some peaceful sleep while you have the opportunity. I'm jealous." Alexia huffs.

"You know I don't sleep after a game. Even worse when you're not with me." She complains.

"Okay, then I'll stay on the phone whilst I have a bath and I'll wait until you fall asleep." You hear the smirk before she even replies.

"And how will I sleep if I know you're in the bath?"

"You would think that now you've got a child, you'd be somewhat more mature." You roll your eyes but there's a hint of a smile on your face. "I'm not going to video call you because I know for a fact you wouldn't sleep then. I'll just talk your ear off. You normally reach a point where you stop listening when I do that."

"Anaís does too. You talk her ear off a lot."

"It's good for her development! When she starts talking at eleven months instead of twelve, you'll be thanking me."

The pair of you continue to chat and joke for long into the night, you deciding to ditch your plans for a bath and Alexia more than happy to listen to you discuss whatever came to your mind. For the whole duration of the call, there's a soft smile on her face that doubles in size when she hears you gently shushing and soothing Anaís when she fussed a little in her sleep. It was safe to say she was more excited for her airport pickup the next day than she was for anything in her life.

Because the sight of her little girl in your arms the following afternoon was a thing she didn't know it was possible to miss so dearly over a short period of time. You didn't have a sign, but in one of Anaís' tiny fists was a small Barcelona flag that matched the jersey she wore too. As soon as Alexia caught sight of you both, she ditched the conversation she was in the middle of and broke off into a light jog towards you. Anaís was turned away from her at first, but when she got closer, you shifted the little girl in your arms and pointed towards her Mami running over.

And what did she do then? At the sight of Alexia, running with her luggage and her laptop in her arms with a shy grin on her face, Anaís giggled.

"Ay, dios mío. Mi chiqui." Her voice was quiet and shaky when she spoke, immediately placing her bag down and her laptop on it before reaching out for Anaís. "Hola, nena. Hi!"

You wrap an arm around her waist and rest your head on her shoulder, laughing when Anaís reaches a little hand out to grab at Alexia's nose. The rest of the team stay back and watch the moment, Mapi having filmed it all as she knew it'd be a memory Alexia would want to keep. They had never seen this side of Alexia, where her heart was merely a puddle on the floor due to the love she held for her daughter. Anaís didn't know it yet of course, but she had Alexia wrapped around her finger from the minute she was born, and that was never going to change.

"Oh, I have missed her so much." Alexia sighs, resting her forehead against Anaís' cheek and repeatedly pressing kisses to the soft skin there. Quickly, the baby's attention inevitably falls elsewhere - being in such a hectic public space like an airport was just so intriguing for her.

"She missed you too. Look at that smile! She's dribbling all over the place." You state, Alexia shrugging nonchalantly.

"I don't care. Anaís, oye, mírame." Alexia leans back and gently pokes her daughter's cheek to gain her attention back. However, the young girl was seemingly stuck in a giggly trance as Mapi creeps closer, pulling a different face with every step she takes. "Mapi! Basta, pendeja! You are distracting her!"

You laugh at Alexia's jealousy and Mapi's subsequent pout, quickly wiping away Anaís' drool with the bib she had on.

"Ay, Ale, don't swear in front of your child." Mapi tuts, a smug grin on her face as she lightly tickles under Anaís' chin and pulls yet another giggle from her. It's simply music to Alexia's ears.

"María, come on, leave them alone." Ingrid takes Mapi's hand and pulls her away but not without a grumble from her.

Finally, now that Mapi and her childish tendencies are gone, Anaís decides to turn her attention back to Alexia.

"There is my chiqui." Alexia bops her nose lightly, eliciting her new favourite sound from her. "Shall we go home?" Anaís grins, her little tongue poking out as she does so. "Mhm, home time! Venga, Mama, let's go so we can cuddle on the couch."

With another laugh, this time at Alexia's eagerness, you pick up her laptop as well as the Barça flag that had fallen from Anaís' hand at some point, and place them both in the backpack Alexia was wearing. With Alexia holding Anaís, you go to grab her suitcase but she gets there before you.

"I have it, mamacita." Alexia smirks as she says it, and you roll your eyes and start walking. "Hm, hola to you too. I missed you also, by the way."

"Come on, my favourite groveller. Let's get dribbles here back home, she needs a nap soon."

Before she knows it, Alexia is dead to the world asleep with her head on your lap as you comb through her hair delicately and Anaís sleeps on her chest. It was a sight you had missed more than you realised, and you of course had to pull your phone out and document it. For Alexia, there was truly nothing better than being at home.

In a baby's first year of life, first-times and milestones come thick and fast. Foremost is the first feed, the first diaper change, the first sleep. Changes in both their behaviour and their appearance happen so quick, it's hard to keep up. Those initial milestones may be seen as minor, if you look past the sentimentality to them, because when the 'proper' developments start happening, that's when it gets special but utterly hectic.

Three major things seem to happen at once for Anaís. Two of them are fine, amazing actually, as they're the first step of leaving infancy: sleeping in her own room and starting to be introduced to solid food. But it's the third one that catches Alexia completely off-guard, something that happens out of the blue, and it has the Spaniard panicking like nothing else.

One moment, she's changing Anaís' diaper, the next minute, her child has vanished.

You were elsewhere in the house, probably using the valuable alone time to be productive with house chores, so you were none the wiser. Alexia had turned away for hardly a second, but Anaís was long gone.

How, one may ask?

Well, the little girl just decided to up and crawl away on her own accord.

To be honest, she didn't get very far, and neither did Alexia's panic last too long because only a few seconds later did she hear the familiar grunts of her daughter and the quiet slaps of her hands against the wooden panels of the lounge floor.

So when Alexia got up and walked towards the sound, there Anaís was, casually crawling around like it was nothing.

"Dios mío, Anaís, you scared me!" Alexia sighs, relieved, as she picks her up and puts her on her hip. "Eres tan descarada, pequeña. Honestly."

Then Alexia turned, leaving the room and wandering upstairs to find you. Anaís' nursery was empty, nor were there any sounds of life coming from any of the other rooms, so she knocked lightly on your shared bedroom door before walking in. She let out a short burst of laughter when you scrambled up off the bed, slightly embarrassed at being caught laying unproductively in bed on your phone.

"What is it?" You blurted out, cheeks a little red.

"Amor, we have a problem." Alexia sighed dramatically, worrying you slightly.

"Okay, are you going to tell me, or..?" You asked, stepping closer and smiling at the dribbling baby in Alexia's arms. She greeted you with her now toothy grin, almost like she knew the chaos she was soon to cause.

"You will never guess what just happened." Alexia laughed, as did Anaís, consequently making you laugh too.

"Tell me then!"

"I was changing her, and I looked away for one second to bag up the dirty diaper, and she was gone. She crawled away, amor. So quick." Your jaw falls in shock, eyes flicking between Alexia's slightly fearful face and Anaís' blissfully unaware one.

"You're joking." Alexia shakes her head.

"No. We have a little explorer on our hands now. We will have to tape our eyes open, otherwise we could blink and she will be gone."

You stay frozen for a little longer, eyes wide and mouth agasp, before your body deflates and you slap your palm against your forehead with a deep groan.

"Welcome to the start of toddler life, amor!"

The chaos of having a small child that now possessed many worrisome abilities wasn't all bad, because after all, there were still many moments that continuously proved everything that parenthood involved was 100% worth it.

Any challenges or difficulties that life threw at you and Alexia were almost always temporarily forgotten whenever Anaís was around. That was the best thing about having a child; they are so young and innocent and cheerful, it's hard to feel down for too long when they're giggling in your face or squealing at nothing or even just sleeping in your arms.

That's where Alexia found herself today.

Even with her newfound confidence and willpower for football, sometimes that all slipped out from underneath her feet. That was the case with the game she'd just arrived home from. Anaís had had a small sleep regression recently, causing the both of you to be up and down constantly all night. Ultimately it took its toll on the both of you, but with you still on maternity leave whilst Alexia travelled around Spain and Europe for match after match, she was inexplicably exhausted.

Everything had caught up with her it seemed, because no matter how hard she tried and how frustrated she got, nothing went her way in the game. So much so that she was taken off at the 60 minute mark due to her performance, something that hadn't happened to her in... well, she couldn't remember.

The only positive from the day was the fact it was a home game, meaning she'd be able to crawl into bed and hide from the world for sometime with her little family. She wouldn't be lying if she said she had never desired anything more.

When she got back to the house, you were in the kitchen having just eaten a late dinner as Anaís was lay in her mobile swing, the saving grace to her sleeping issues as it seemed to be the only thing to get her off to sleep at night now. There was a plate of food waiting in the microwave for Alexia, but her appetite was completely gone at this point.

"Hola." She whispered when she walked into the room.

"Ale." You smiled sadly at her broken demeanour, immediately opening your arms. With a slight hesitation, she comes over and allows herself to let go in your embrace, and the tension you feel under your arms tells you everything you need to know about her current state of mind. "I know you're probably frustrated with yourself about today, but I want you to know I'm still proud of you. For everything, absolutely everything."

"W... Why?" Alexia mumbles insecurely.

With a frown, you lean back slightly and bring up both hands to rest on her cheeks. She doesn't meet your eyes until you raise her chin up a little, and it opens up a world of emotional complexity.

"Why am I proud of you?" You repeat and Alexia nods. "Because you are playing football at the highest standard in Europe and achieving so much, whilst also being the best Mami for our little girl. That's hard, Alexia, two very difficult things to juggle at once and you just do it. I can't ask anymore from you. That is why I'm proud of you."

She makes a noise of uncertainty, almost like she can't believe you'd say such a thing. At that, you sigh and urge her to bury her face back into your neck, to which she does so instantly. One of her hands comes up to clutch at the back of your neck as the other wraps tightly around the small of your back, and you let her stay like that for as long as she needs.

Some time passed before she decided to pull back, to which she rested her temple against yours for a few seconds until she looked down at you.

"Thank you." Alexia breathes out, turning slightly to look at where Anaís was fast asleep in her swing. "I... I know she is asleep, but can I pick her up? Please?" You pull a face at the question, wondering why she's asking to pick up her own daughter, but Alexia interprets it differently. "I just need to hold her, amor. If I wake her up, it's my fault and I-"

"No, Ale, of course you can pick her up. Of course you can." You tell her, and she moves instantly.

This version of Alexia you unfortunately knew too well. Even as a senior, veteran player, her whole self-worth completely crumbled whenever she gave a poor performance in a game. It was something about her that would probably never change, so you had grown accustomed to it over time. And tonight was one of those especially bad occasions, but it's the first time it had happened since Anaís had come into your lives, so you were sure that the little girl's presence was involved in the buildup to Alexia's current mindset, but she could also be the exact solution the Spaniard needed.

With your worries for your partner in the back of your mind, you watched as Alexia delicately unclasped the buckle keeping Anaís secure before picking her up.

"Shh, mi nena, sólo soy yo, tu Mami." She quietly soothed her, one hand holding Anaís up against her shoulder as the other rubs comfortingly across her back. The little girl immediately turns her face into Alexia's neck, mewling at the disruption before she soon settled again. "Te quiero mucho, preciosa."

"Why don't you go through to the lounge and I'll heat up your dinner for you?" You suggest, watching as Alexia nods wordlessly and leaves the room.

Seeing her like this, it's unexplainably difficult. You know there is not much you can say that'll make a difference to how she feels right now, it's something Alexia has to work through on her own, a classic case of time heals all, but that acknowledgement doesn't soften the blow at all. However, you hope that spending time with you and Anaís will make her feel a little better before the night is over.

You get a hint of that when you walk into the lounge a few minutes later; Alexia is sat stiffly upright against the sofa, the uncomfortable position of her contrasted by her closed eyes as Anaís lay across her shoulder. Alexia had her face turned to the side into Anaís, and under the dim light of the room, lit up only by a lamp in the corner, you notice a stream of tears running down her cheek.

Wasting no time, you put the plate you were holding down onto the coffee table before sitting down beside them both. Careful not to disrupt the peace either of them had created, you wrap an arm around Alexia's shoulders and press a gentle kiss to her jaw. The midfielder shifts slightly so that she's leaning against you, keeping Anaís in place as you raise a hand to brush her tears away.

"Okay?" You whisper, resting your head against hers.

"Mhm." Her voice cracks slightly even as she hums, so you hug her a little tighter.

All three of you settle into silence, comforted by the sound of Anaís snoring lightly. Nothing needs to be said, nor could you think of anything, so you allow Alexia this moment to decompress from the day, wanting nothing more than for her to feel better. It doesn't matter to you how she gets there, whether that's by staying on this sofa all night long with you and Anaís, or forgetting to eat her dinner in front of her, whatever it takes you'll let her do. Because you think the world of her, and when she's feeling down, it offsets everything around you.

Until, some time later, Alexia breaks the silence with a sentiment that causes you to tear up too.

"I wish I could stay here forever."

She spoke so quietly, you would have missed it if you weren't waiting for it.

"Here, with you and with Anaís. Nobody watching us, no one asking anything from us. Just us three." It was clear from the tone of her voice that she's getting a bit teary again, and it tugs at every one of your heart strings. "Nothing can match this. I never want to do anything else again."

"Ale." You sigh shakily, suppressing cries of your own as her shoulders shake with silent sobs.

In her mind, she had to be completely silent, because if she woke up Anaís now, you don't even want to think about what her mind would tell her. It would be lethal. She couldn't handle failing at another thing, couldn't handle disappointing the two people she loved most.

"Go put her to bed before I wake her."

"Are you sure?" She nodded and shifted away from you.

"Don't want to wake her up."

With that, you stand up and watch Alexia place a final kiss to Anaís' forehead before she gives her to you. You move as quickly as possible without waking your daughter up, delicately placing her down in the crib in her room and grimacing as you do so in case she wakes up with a cry, but the universe must be on your side today because she stays asleep. A relieved sigh escapes you as you flick on the baby monitor, grabbing one of them and leaving the room. Heading back downstairs, you cautiously make your way back to the living room, not really sure what sight you'll walk into.

What you see is equally as heartbreaking as every time you'd looked at Alexia this evening.

She's seated in the same position as before, but this time her head is thrown back against the cushions of the sofa, and her face is completely stoic and devoid of emotion. The exception that gave her away were the stuttered breaths coming from her and the damp lines down her cheeks.

You join her again, wrapping both arms around her this time and pulling her fully into you. One of her hands comes up to grip your upper arm as she cries a little harder into your shoulder.

"We both love you, Alexia, so much. Please don't forget that." You remind her, stroking up and down her back as you embrace her. "You're more than good enough for us, no matter what your mind is telling you."

That seems to hit a sensitive point for her, because she only sobs harder into you. The only thing you can do now is be there for her, so you decide against speaking anymore to wait for her outburst of emotions to simmer down.

It takes longer than you expect, but eventually it does happen, and she falls quiet again whilst slumped against you. Casting your mind back through the years with her, you can't recall a time seeing Alexia as distraught as she was tonight. So, at that revelation, you gently urge her head back up from your shoulder and properly look at her. With your hands on either one of her cheeks, you lean in to press the softest kiss of mankind onto her forehead. It pulls more tears out of her, the tenderness of it, but her shoulders aren't wracking with sobs and her breathing is almost entirely normal.

"What's going on?" You question, gazing up into her normally piercing eyes, but tonight they were half-lidded and filled with defeat.

"No sé." She rasped. Her mind is way too convoluted to unravel everything going on at the moment, so she finds the words to say and pieces them together. "Not tonight. Please."

"Okay, that's okay. We don't have to." You reassure her, and you can see the relief flood her as her body deflates. "Can I talk though? I have some things to say."

"Sí." She shrugged, taking one of your hands with both of hers and fiddling with the rings you wore.

"Hey, you gotta look at me." You demand softly, tilting her chin up. You meet her eyes and smile a little, an act that rids her mind of one of the dark clouds over her. "I don't care how soppy and cliché this is, but meeting you is the best thing that has ever happened to me."

Alexia chuckles at that, something she's done thousands of times in front of you, but this one perhaps means the most.

"That is cliché." She comments, grinning half-heartedly when you roll your eyes.

"I already said it was, you can't claim that one. Let me finish." You push her shoulder lightly before composing yourself again. "You are the only person I want, Ale, and you mean so much to me. I can't even put it into words, so that's all you're getting for that part."

She laughs again, this time a little more tearfully as your loving words are fighting off all her doubts.

"To Anaís and I, it doesn't matter how many goals you get in a game or how many trophies you get in a season. I just want my Ale to be happy, and Anaís just wants her Mami to be happy. We will love you no matter what, and I'll be here as I am now to remind you, and Anaís will remind you the next time she's sick from you making her laugh." Alexia shakes her head at the reminder of an incident she had certainly learnt her lesson from a few months ago, the pair of you laughing quietly about it again. "You've seen the way Anaís looks at you. She's infatuated with you, Ale. And it's possibly my favourite thing in the world."

She sniffles a few times but nevertheless nods when you finish talking, feeling indefinitely better than she did when she got home. Raising your hand, she lightly kisses your ring finger before leaning forward to envelope you in a tight hug. It's an embrace that conveys all the words she can't verbalise right now, something you instantly understand as you know the woman in your arms better than she knows herself at this point.

"You're all we both will ever need. You just need to remember that more often."

There was a conversation that you and Alexia had had during the time you were trying to get pregnant, one that all same-sex couples most likely have at that stage. But it was resolved fairly quickly, and that was that you would be Mama and Alexia would be Mami. Ever since then, you and Alexia had endlessly teased and bantered each other about what Anaís would say first out of the two options.

What you weren't expecting though, was Alexia's reaction when Anaís eventually did say her first word.

Anaís bellowed her first word at you one random morning when you walked into her room where she sat waiting for her parents in her crib. Alexia was a few steps behind where you froze in place, overcome with about every emotion one could name at the fact Anaís had not only spoken, but said Mama too.

Alexia's excitement kicked in immediately, so she skipped over to Anaís' crib and picked her up, holding her in the air and grinning up at her.

"What did you just say, chiqui? Did you say... Mama?"

"Mama!" Anaís squealed loudly, giggling when Alexia rewarded her with a barrage of kisses.

You were still stuck in place, the only difference was that there were now tears of joy dripping onto the carpet by your feet. Alexia turned with your daughter in her arms, laughing when she brought her over to you.

"Hola, Mama! Let's wipe these tears, right Anaís?" She takes one of Anaís' hands and uses it to brush the tears off of your face. "Say the magic word, nena! Mama!"

"Mamaaaa." She shouts and to add to the sentiment of the moment, she points right at you as she says it, indicating that she does actually know what she's saying.

"Yes, well done! Oh, we are so proud of you, chiqui, aren't we?" You nod and cover your face with your hands, curling into Alexia's side. It's a struggle for her to hug you whilst also holding a wiggly Anaís who is always giddy in the morning, but she makes it work. "Sí, we are, Anaís. Mama, are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, perfect. I just can't believe she said it." You sniffle, removing your hands from your face but staying at Alexia's side.

Anaís grins as you reach out to cup her cheek, turning her head to blow raspberries against your hand. The three of you laugh together, you and Alexia forever enraptured by every display of Anaís' ever growing personality.

"I always knew she would say Mama first and I'm so glad she did." Alexia admits, chuckling at the confused face you pull.

"Why?" You wonder, leaning forward to kiss the tip of Anaís' nose.

"Because you deserve it. You did all the hard work with her, being pregnant and then giving birth like a campeona, and you do a great job being her Mama. It was only right for her to say it first."

You had no idea she felt such a way about the situation, and it only caused you to get emotional again. It wasn't that Alexia never voiced her gratitude towards you, she did it daily, it's just that hearing her speak so highly of you as a parent meant far more to you than you could ever voice.

"Thank you, Ale. That's unbelievably sweet of you to say." You giggle, thumbing away a few tears and leaning your head against her shoulder.

"Buena, it's the truth. Oye, Anaís?" Alexia calls back Anaís' attention, smirking when her daughter looks up at her. She raises her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for her to say the inevitable. "Ma..."

"Mama!" Anaís grins at you again, jerking forwards towards you.

"Woah!" You catch her, holding her tight against you in a loving hug. "You are crazy, Anaís."

The little girl seems surprisingly outraged at that as starts to babble away unabashedly in your arms, her hands gesturing wildly as she did so, a trait she'd clearly picked up from her Mami. You giggle at her unintelligible ramble, blushing when Alexia randomly places an affectionate kiss on your cheek.

"Loca como su Mama, amor!" Alexia comments with a poke at Anaís' leg. "She even loves chattering away like you."

"Sí, nuestra paralanchina pequeña."

You tickle Anaís' tummy, interrupting her ramble. She turns to you with an angry face that is scarily similar to Alexia's, and the pair of you have to stifle your laughter at the sight of it out of fear of whatever terrible consequences she'd release upon you both.

"Enojada como su Mama también." Alexia mutters.

It's your turn to fix her with a warning glance. She instantly backs down with her hands up in surrender, stepping away from the fury running through the veins of her two favourite girls.

"Mama?" Anaís turns back to you with a questioning glance, and you take advantage of that.

"Sí, Anaís, Mami needs to run away right now, doesn't she?" You smile politely at your daughter, one she returns, before you both look back to Alexia with those menacing grins. A second passes before she sprints out the room. Anaís laughs and you chuckle too, walking out of the room in a much calmer fashion.

If there was one thing you'd learnt about parenting so far, it was that you should never take things for granted. There's a seemingly infinite number of firsts in a person's life and being there to witness them all as a parent was an experience that couldn't be conformed to a few measly adjectives. Sure, you would hear Anaís say 'Mama' countless times in your life, but you wouldn't ever get to hear it for the first time again. Sometimes, when you thought about that, you were consumed by sorrow, but that was part and parcel of parenthood. No matter how harrowing it was, you had no choice but to accept it.

The thing that easily made up for it was spending the rest of your life as a parent to Anaís, and in the grand scheme of things, that was the biggest privilege you could ever have.

Not so long after the beautiful experience that was Anaís' saying her first word, she turned a whole year old. One year of having a little plus one with you everywhere you went, one year of seeing the woman you love grow into an amazing parent, one whole year of nothing but the absolute best memories you've ever had the honour experiencing. To say it had been the best twelve months of your life was a complete understatement.

Obviously due to your work and Alexia's games, you had a very low-key day between yourselves on her actual birthday, and 'day' was a generous word. It was more of a frantic celebration because of course Anaís chose her birthday to be the day she had her first ever lie-in. When she finally woke up, it meant you only had less than an hour to spend as a family before Alexia had to leave for training which doubled into media day that she couldn't avoid. Fortunately, the team had organised it so that she was first so she could get home as soon as possible, but she had still grumbled about it everyday since it was arranged.

The short hour was enjoyable nevertheless, if not a little emotional, and you practically had to push Alexia out of the door so that she wasn't late. You understood her defiance, knowing that if you were in her shoes you would be wrecked at having to be away from Anaís on her birthday, but it was only for a few hours and that was enough persuasion for her to go.

When she did return, she hardly let Anaís out of her sight. That was until her closest family and childhood friends came over for a calm dinner to celebrate your daughter. It was turning out that Anaís was quite the social butterfly, so she was happy to be passed around all evening to the ones you and Alexia loved most. The day completely exhausted her though, and that night you and Alexia spent far longer than normal stood over her where she slept in her crib.

The midfielder was behind you with her arms around your torso, her chin on your shoulder as you both gazed at your daughter's sleeping form. This time a year ago, you were in a hospital bed with a tiny, wrinkly baby in your arms as Alexia lay beside you. Now, a year on, that little newborn had completely grown into her own and was fast on her way to walking. It was a bittersweet contrast for sure, but you were well adjusted to how fast time moves and how to accept things, so it didn't plague you in the same way things had in the past.

To Alexia, not that she had made you aware yet, this day wasn't just about Anaís, but you too. Because a year ago today, she had graced her eyes upon the greatest wonder in the world, and that was all down to you. You, who had gone through agonising pain for much longer than just the time you were in labour, and managed to deliver her daughter perfectly healthy. Never would she take that for granted, and she had a little trick up her sleeve to make sure you knew that.

"Amor, come to the lounge with me." She whispered, pairing it with a kiss to your bare shoulder beside your vest strap.

After a last moment of admiration, you nodded and allowed her to lead you to the living room, your hand in hers as you trailed after her. When you got there, she urged you to sit right in the middle of the sofa in front of the TV before she walked off to grab her laptop. She came back in a few moments later and turned the TV on, then mirroring her laptop screen to show up on the bigger screen. You watched it all with a curious frown, none the wiser to what you were about to see.

"I wanted to make something for us to remember the past year by." Alexia said, pausing as she searched for the right file. "It is also a gift from me to you because we should celebrate you too today. You gave birth to our little girl, and that is no easy feat. So this is just a small way for me to express my gratitude to you since words will never do you justice."

You'd be lying if you said your heart wasn't beating about a hundred miles an hour by now. Alexia hadn't even shown you what she had organised yet, but you had an inkling that in a few moment's time you would be emotionally ruined.

Alexia pressed play on the video she had pulled up and came to sit beside you. Before the first image had even come on, it was still just a black screen, you scrambled to find her hand and clutched it tightly in your lap.

In the next couple minutes, numerous photos and videos of your little family of three were displayed on the screen, a compilation of all the best documented moments captured within the last year. Some of them were taken by you obviously, but the larger majority of them were from Alexia's point of view and you had a sneaky feeling that was the point of it. A lot of the things in the montage you hadn't even seen, like the video of you singing a Spanish nursery rhyme to Anaís one night when she was still a newborn, or the picture of you fast asleep with Anaís on your chest with two fistfuls of your t-shirt, and way more of the same value that had you crying almost instantly.

Next to you, Alexia had a pensive look on her face, anxious as to what your thoughts were. Obviously she noticed you were crying, but she stayed unmoving until the video ended and you reacted first.

And due to a lack of better words in the moment, you accidentally give Alexia a momentary heart attack...

"Alexia, what the hell?" You cried, one hand over your eyes. The Spaniard froze beside you because out of all the thing she expected you to say, that was not one of them.

"Did you not like it?" She asked in an insecure voice, to which you turned to her in shock.

"No, I loved it, Ale." You told her, and she left out perhaps the biggest sigh of relief you had ever seen someone do. "Why did you do it though?"

"Because I just appreciate you so much, amor, and I need you to know that. Seeing you and watching you with Anaís is a magical thing to witness and I wanted you to see it through my eyes. It is the greatest honour of my life, being able to love you both. The second greatest honour is being alive to witness you with her." She explained earnestly, her free hand that wasn't held by yours coming to cradle your face. You leaned into it immediately, the image of you with your head tilted to the side with a soft pout and tears on your cheeks drove Alexia crazy. "Look at you! I can't get enough of you, you make me go crazy."

With a wet laugh, you raised a hand up to rest on the back of hers on your face and turned to kiss her palm.

"You drive me crazy with your grand gestures like you just did! You need to tell me who made that for you so that I can get them to do one for your Christmas present." You say, Alexia chuckling and shaking her head.

She manoeuvres you so that you're sat on her lap with your back to her chest, and she hugs you tighter than ever like that.

"You see what I see now?" She murmurs into your ear, and you're unsure if the hand that settles over your stomach is a subtle hint.

"What's that?" You wonder innocently, leaning your head back to rest against her shoulder. With you like that, she turns to place a few gentle kisses to the new skin on show.

"I see the most incredible, beautiful, and caring Mami in the world. One that loves so whole-heartedly, you leave an imprint on everyone you come across. When I first met you and I fell victim to that effect, I knew I had to have you. But I had no idea quite the impact you would have on my life. I find myself doing the stupidest things in the world just so I hear two people laugh." She huffs, grinning when she hears you giggle. "I also find myself loving the two most amazing people on the planet. These two people happen to love me too, and I have to think of myself as the luckiest person in the world to say that. My fortune far precedes my most ambitious dreams, because with you and Anaís in my life, what more could I want?"

Oh, what a fool you would be to deny her of that.

Later that same summer came the World Cup, and this time around it was held in Brazil. If it wasn't for Anaís, you would have of course tried to get over there for at least one of Alexia's games. But that would be too challenging and complicated to do with a one year old, so Alexia didn't even blink twice when you fearfully brought up that fact to her on one of the last nights you would spend with her before the summer turn of games started.

Before Alexia left though, you had a small present in store for her. The morning of the day she would be leaving, you were adamant at being the one to dress Anaís because there was a vital piece of her outfit that she needed to wear.

That key item was a Spain jersey of course, with Mami 11 printed on the back. So when you walked into the kitchen where Alexia ate her breakfast, she gave you a funny look at the weird way you were carrying Anaís. But that look was wiped off her face when you place Anaís on the ground for her to walk over to Alexia. The midfielder's jaw dropped as she noticed her daughter's shirt, but it wasn't until she spotted the detail on the back that she was overcome with emotion.

"Amor, you did this?" Alexia asked, abandoning her breakfast as she crouched down and held her arms out for a wobbly Anaís to wander over to her.

"I did." You replied proudly, watching as Alexia hugged her daughter tightly before turning her around so she could get a good look at her jersey.

"Dios mío, pingüino. Look at you." Alexia whispers in amazement, then she picks up Anaís and walks over for a family hug. "Thank you, thank you. That's amazing."

And of course, for every one of Spain's matches that tournament, you and Anaís were watching with your jerseys on in full support for Alexia. Before each game, you would take a photo of you both and send it to Alexia, which she told you was what empowered her to walk out onto the pitch for every game. You and your daughter missed Alexia of course, but it was much harder for her since she was halfway across the world from her family.

It was that much harder when her team were knocked out of the tournament in the semi-finals.

...But, when she arrived back to her hotel room later that night after that dreadful game, she sensed a spark of her excitement in her chest, because the loss meant she could come home. It meant she could finally see you and Anaís after what felt like a lifetime apart, and she focused all of her energy on that eagerness she felt instead of the effects of the defeat.

And the reunion was so worth it, because this time you and Anaís did greet her with a sign at the airpot this time, and the Spaniard all but collapsed into the arms of you both when she saw you.

You thought the biggest shock of your summer would be Spain getting knocked out in the semi-finals, but unbeknownst to you, there was a whole other storm coming.

After the World Cup, Alexia whisked you and Anaís away on a holiday to escape from the world and spend time together as a family without the pressures of life. But when you were lounging on one of the outdoor beds on the balcony of your hotel room one day of the holiday, you heard a statement you were not expecting.

"I'm going to retire from the national team."

Alexia was wandering aimlessly around the balcony, trying to bounce Anaís to sleep for her mid-day nap when she had said it.

"What?" You sat up and raised your sunglasses to look at her properly, wondering if you there was a chance you had heat stroke and may had hallucinated it.

"I said I am retiring from the national team." She repeated nonchalantly, as if she hadn't just revealed huge news.

"I'm not quite sure we're on the same page, Ale. Could you explain a little?"

With a chuckle, Alexia tugs Anaís' hat further down so that it blocks the sun from her eyes when Alexia sits on the edge of your sun bed.

"I have decided to step down from the national team, for good. I have much more interesting things to do with my time now." She shrugged, glancing down at her daughter. "When we get back from vacation, I have a meeting with the federation to tell them. Nobody knows, it's a decision I made for myself."

"Are you sure?" You're a bit speechless, caught off guard by the sudden admission.

"Very sure. I'm certain that this is what I want to do. I'm content with everything I've achieved for the team, so now is my time. I'm not ready to retire fully, that's a while off yet, but I don't want to spend so long away from you both again. It's just not worth it. I'm not missing that much of Anaís' life again." Alexia explains.

You take a moment to process the sudden declaration, before you lean forward to wrap an arm around her and hugging her carefully, mindful of Anaís in between you both.

"Well, I guess that's that. As long as you're sure, Ale, then there's not much to say. I'm grateful you've made that decision, who would I be to get upset at the fact we're going to have more time together?" You say, noticing the relieved smile on her face. "You don't want to, I don't know, discuss it a bit more? With anyone, doesn't have to be me. I just don't want you to regret it."

"No, I'm completely okay with it, amor. I think I had already made this decision before Brazil. It was something I needed to figure out on my own, and I have had long enough to process it and now I'm fine with it. I think I am actually excited."

Now that she mentions it, she does have a lighter look in her eyes, like this is a weight off of her shoulders. She had come back from the tournament with that look, and it irritated you that you couldn't figure it out at first, but now you completely understood it. You smile at her, filled from head to toe with pride and love for the woman in front of you, and you lean forward to kiss her softly.

"I'm happy to hear that." You whisper, and she can't help but lean back for more.

One more thing about parenthood to add to the list, was that children had the worst timing in the world.

"Oh no. Ay dios. I'm sorry, amor, I would really love to continue this but I need to go change her diaper right now."

Before you could open your eyes, Alexia was scurrying off into the hotel room, and you didn't even want to know what had just happened.

There soon came to be a very special occasion for Alexia, one she had been dreaming of for as long as she could remember. For some time now, you and Alexia had had multiple discussions about when Anaís would go to her first game, and finally the pair of you had landed on an option.

Barcelona were due to play in the final of the Super Cup in Madrid, and you, Anaís, and other members of Alexia's family were travelling to attend the game. You were beyond excited for it; since Anaís had come into your life, you had hardly been to many of Alexia's games, something you adored doing before you had a child to care for.

Alexia, on the other hand, was encumbered by nerves as she lined up in the tunnel for the game. She can't remember the last time she had been nervous for a match, so she didn't really know what to do with herself. For the few minutes she was in the tunnel, her mind was almost in overdrive - would Anaís be okay? You and her family were there for her, she had to be. Would she kick up a fuss? She was still only young after all. Would she hate the amount of people there and the noise of it all? Well, that one couldn't be possible because Alexia had bought some baby ear defenders that she demanded you pack, so at least there was one surefire solution. She couldn't spiral for any longer though because Cata shoved her from behind when the captain didn't move.

The game went off without a hitch, and when Alexia did her pre-match tradition as she hopped onto the pitch, her mind clicked into concentration. That didn't stop her from glancing up at the section of the stadium she knew her family was in though, desperate to catch a glimpse of her daughter. She finally did spot you both as she was walking off the pitch at half-time, almost melting on the spot when she saw you holding Anaís who of course wore a Barcelona jersey on top of her jumper so that she stayed warm. With an eager wave, she admired the view for a bit longer, before jogging off to the tunnel.

She was glad to find that her nerves didn't affect her performance, bagging two assists to help the team win 3-1. It was a great match to watch as a fan, and you were thrilled for Alexia and her team, and the cherry on the cake was the fact that Anaís had been no trouble at all throughout it. For about twenty minutes of the first half, she fell asleep, but was startled awake by the crowd (and you) when Barcelona scored their first goal. Since then, she had been wide awake, and as good as gold.

From your place in the stands, you watched on with pride as the trophy ceremony carried out, forever happy to see Alexia with a medal around her neck and a trophy in her arms.

But perhaps the most exciting moment of the day for Alexia was when you walked out of the tunnel a little while later with Anaís in your arms. Alexia ran over as soon as she spotted you, knowing this was the plan all along if Anaís had coped well. She laughed giddily as she approached you and wrapped you both up in a tight hug, flooded with pure happiness.

"Well done, Mami!" You grin, patting her cheek a few times before offering Anaís out to her.

"Mami!" Anaís shouted in Alexia's face, before her attention inevitably falls to the shiny metal hanging from her neck, She tries to pick it up, but it's a little heavy for her, meaning it thumps Alexia heavily in the chest.

"Oof, Anaís." Alexia huffs, taking off her medal and putting it around your neck instead.

"Ale." You roll your eyes, cheeks slightly red, and when you try to take it off her hand reaches out to stop it.

"Leave it, amor." She smirks, kissing you quickly as you go to argue again. Leaving you a tad flustered, she turns back to her daughter. "Oye, Anaís! What's that?"

The midfielder points to one of the footballs off at the side of the pitch, and Anaís' face immediately lights up.

"Ball!" She grins, reaching a grabby hand out towards it.

"You want to play?" Alexia wonders, going over to collect the ball and walking it further onto the field before placing Anaís down in front of it. "Kick it, chiqui!"

Rather unceremoniously, Anaís does kick it but not without falling afterwards. You laugh as she tumbles down, Alexia rushing over and doting on her.

"Ale, she'll be okay, don't stress her out." You tell her, to which she nods and rights her daughter again before coming back to your side. "She doesn't quite have your elegance yet."

"I know." Alexia snickers, and the pair of you follow to wherever Anaís toddles off to. "Look at her go though. Not really a waddling little pingüino anymore."

The nickname, 'pingüino', had come about back when Anaís took her first steps just after she turned a year old, and it had stuck since then.

"No, she isn't." You hum in agreement, throwing an arm around Alexia's waist as you continue trailing after your little girl. "Uh oh."

There wasn't any real danger when you uttered that, it was just Mapi.

"Hola nena! Wow, look at you!" Mapi ran over to her and swooped her up off the ground. "What name do you have on your back... oh, boo! Boring! I think you should have my name, sí Ale?"

"Over my dead body." Alexia grumbled, elbowing you when you laughed at her grumpiness. "That is an emergency shirt, we didn't have time for a name because we didn't realise her other one was too small for her jumper."

"Blah, blah, blah... no wonder you are always sleepy, Anaís, her talking is tiring me too!" Mapi teased, wincing dramatically at the disapproving huff Alexia gives. "Oh no, nena. We need to run. Let's go play before Mami kills me, huh?"

You shake your head at Mapi's antics and watch as she steals your daughter away to play football with her. Alexia has a subtle smile on her face, and you giggle quietly when you see it, knowing she's trying to act like the captain she is but can't resist the cuteness of her daughter.

"Cálmate, Capi." You bump your hip into hers, smirking when she looks down at you with a suppressed grin. Now you take the medal off and place it back around her neck, silencing her complaints in the same way she did to you earlier. "You have too many medals and trophies now, campeona, I'm not sure our house can stand the extra weight."

"Behave." Alexia muttered lovingly, pulling you in for a proper hug. "Thank you for coming, and thank you for bringing her too."

"Of course. I loved being at a game again, and Anaís handled it perfectly. She had a little nap in the first half but stayed awake for the rest of it."

"Really?" Alexia said, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise as her face contorted to one of shy excitement, an adorable sight to see.

"Yes, she did. She didn't cry once, she was very settled." Alexia nodded and casted her eyes back over to Anaís. "Told you she would love going to your games."

At that, she finally lets herself break out into a whole-hearted grin, and she hugs you tight to her side as you watch Mapi and a few others dote over Anaís.

"I need her at every game. She is my good luck charm." She mumbles, swallowing down the lump in her throat. "Mapi is going to injure our mija."

She wasn't exactly wrong on that part; Mapi had started passing the ball softly to Anaís and urging her to kick it, to which she did but not without falling over again. The defender can't help herself: she passes Anaís the ball over and over, and Anaís tumbles down each time. Mapi would burst out laughing, before helping Anaís up and giving her the ball once more. Luckily Anaís saw the humour in it too, giggling almost just as much as Mapi.

Alexia let it happen once more before marching over. You were a little out of earshot, but you saw Alexia pick Anaís up from the floor and brush off the grass from her clothes, then she turned to Mapi with an accusing point and most likely the sternest voice she could muster. From your viewpoint, you could tell Mapi was stifling yet more laughter, but she kept up the innocent act in front of her friend. And when Alexia turned away from her with a shake of her head, Mapi looked over at you with a huge grin that you matched, letting her know she wasn't actually in trouble like Alexia tried to establish.

"That woman is the bane of my life." Alexia complained when she came back over to you, a slightly damp and grassy child in her arms.

"Mm, you love her really." You retaliate, flicking a blade of grass off of Anaís' arm.

"So what." Alexia huffed, cradling Anaís closely to her chest and swaying a little. "Oh, dios. She's so grown up."

"I know." You pout at the sight of Anaís in her arms, now calm and a bit tired. "Already kicking a ball about."

"We must buy her some football boots soon." You shake your head and laugh.

"She's not even two years old yet."

"Doesn't matter, amor. Project Putellas starts now."

The night before Anaís' second birthday was a turning point to remember; you and Alexia, in the spur of the moment, agreed on having another child in the very near future. When she initiated the decision, you hadn't even hesitated to affirm your willingness to her. It was an easy choice for you because both of you had always wanted two children, but in the past two years the topic of making that happen had hardly been brought up. You knew the time would come, and now it was here.

For the rest of the time you spent preparing the cake for it to go in the oven, the pair of you revelled in the coy anticipation that lingered in the air. Separately, your minds were running wild with the limitless possibilities that could occur in the next few years, until you stood up from placing the tray in the oven and Alexia was there, gazing at you with the softest smile she could muster.

"Another baby, huh?" She commented quietly, taking hold of your hand.

"Apparently so." You matched her smile, both of you watching the other before Alexia pulled you in for a tight hug. "You sure?"

"Amor, que pregunta tan estupida." She said bluntly, making you laugh. "I have never been so sure of a decision before. I believe now is the time for us to have another, as long as you are sure."

"Oh, what a stupid thing to say." You teased her, grinning when she grumbled and lightly hit your waist. "I'm more than ready to have another."

"Hm, good." She smirks, and her hands travel a little lower on your back. "We can go try if you'd like?"

"Really?" You scoffed, swatting her hands away and stepping out of her grasp. "Come on. Help me make this icing. And don't make any inappropriate suggestions."

From that day on, the pair of you delve yourselves into the process of IVF again. After last time, you both were more than happy with it all and how the process goes, so you chose the reciprocal type again and were there for each other through it all once again. It was a little trickier trying to do injections with an investigative toddler who wanted to be involved with it too, never straying far from you two, but you made it work.

However, not all things can go to plan. Perhaps the first time with Anaís had been too good to be true, because conceiving this time was much more difficult.

Over and over, yours and Alexia's emotions were tugged from left to right, one day on cloud nine and other days plunged into the deepest melancholia. It was a ruthless and relentless cycle of hope, anticipation, disappointment and frustration. Your self-worth took a gut-wrenching blow each time, your mind overgrown with blame and guilt and inadequacy. But, as someone wise beyond their years once said, your fortune far preceded your hopes because each and everytime Alexia and Anaís were there to pull you back up out of your pit of darkness.

"Amor." Alexia whispered gently one morning, sitting beside where you lay in bed and placing Anaís in her lap. "Wake up, mija, it is a big day, we need y-"

"Mama! Up, now!" Anaís shouted, pushing against your shoulder.

"Anaís, no! That is not nice, I told you to be gentle. Gentle, sí?" Alexia scolds quietly, about to warn Anaís again when you rolled over with a tight-lipped smile on your face.

"Morning." You muttered, bracing yourself when you saw Anaís stand in Alexia's lap. "Oof, chiqui, good morning to you too."

"Feliz navidad, mis amores." Alexia said, resting a hand on Anaís' back as a reminder for her to stay calm.

"Christmas, Mama." Anaís grinned down at you, placing two heavy hands on your cheeks, smushing them together, and giving you a quick kiss.

"Mhm, happy Christmas, bebíta." You sat up and gave her a hug that lasted about a millisecond due to her very limited attention span.

"Anaís, why don't you go get your stocking from your room? We will open it in here." She didn't need to be told twice - she leaped off the bed, briefly scaring the life out of you and Alexia, before racing out of the room. Alexia turned to you when she left, looking over you with a watcful eye. "How are you, amor?"

The previous day, cruelly on Christmas Eve, you both had found out that the third IVF attempt had not resulted in a pregnancy. What should have been a day filled with fesitivies and joy and tradition, was instead another day of grieving. After you had gotten home from the appointment, Alexia had quickly dropped Anaís off at Eli's for the afternoon so that her full attention could be on you. Not much was said or done, this had occurred one too many times now for any words to be of gratification. You both just needed time together, away from any other worries, to be able to process it. The healing process wasn't a straightforward one, you didn't magically feel better this morning, but knowing what day it was made it just a tad easier.

"Not bad, but not great. I just don't want to think about it. For one day at least." You answered, and she nodded instantly.

"We can do our best. When that little rocket is around, I think we'll be swept off our feet." Alexia said, glad to hear even just the breath of laughter you give her. "Don't hesitate to tell me if you need a break though. You let me know how you're doing, alright?"

"I will. Thank you, Ale." You told her earnestly, offering a semi-genuine smile to her.

"Te amo mucho, siempre. Siempre, amor." Alexia whispered when she wrapped you up in her arms.

Then Anaís came steaming back in, her Christmas stocking dragging along behind her unceremoniously, and you giggle when Alexia tells her off for it. The little girl sassed back a reply and Alexia can't help but laugh too, helping her lift it onto the bed. Watching your daughter's face light up with every gift she opens and how she hugs you both tightly after every single one, it's hard to be enveloped by the gloom your mind tried to subdue you into. Anaís was the best gift of all, and if a second child wasn't meant to be, you still had this beautiful girl that made you numb to all the problems life threw at you.

In the midst of this ongoing IVF journey came Alexia's birthday, and to distract yourself from the difficulty of the past few months, you had set yourself and Anaís a project to do as a gift. It was a minor token of appreciation for the woman who had been nothing short of perfect throughout it all, forever there to lean on and pick up the pieces when you need her to.

The day had come for you both to show off what you'd done for her, and though you'd already spent the morning at home with Anaís and Alexia, as well as giving her a few other gifts, this was the part you were most looking forward to. And as you pulled up to the Barcelona training facilities where you would see your hard work for the first time before surprising her, it was safe to say you hadn't felt such excitement in a long while.

"So, frecas, are you ready to surprise Mami?" You smile at Anaís through the rearview mirror of your car just as you pull into a parking space.

"Mamiiii!" Anaís sings from her seat, her little feet swinging excitedly.

"Sí, Mami!" You repeat back, turning off the car before hopping out and walking to Anaís' door. "Vale, mi niña pequeña, what do we have to remember whilst we're here?"

"Be nice, hold your hand, and... smile!"

You laugh at that last one, because you and Alexia never have to remind her to smile as it's something she is always doing anyway. The pair of you love to tell her how happy she makes everyone around her with her cheeky smile, and from then she'd taken it upon herself to do it, somehow, even more often.

"Yes, everybody loves it when you smile." You tap her nose lightly, delighted to hear her giggle. "Do you remember how today is going to go?"

"Tell me?" Anaís asks as you help her out of the car.

"Yep, I can tell you." You reply, taking her hand and leading her to the reception. "We're going to be taken to an office where we can finally see the gift you made for Mami. Then we can give it to her, and maybe if you're up for it, we can have lunch with everybody. Are you excited?"

"Mhm." Anaís mutters quietly, indicating she was feeling a little uncertain about something. When you're away from the car park and outside the main doors, you turn to her and crouch to her height.

"What's up, mi chiqui? Is there something bugging you?" You question softly, taking both of her hands and squeezing them.

"Nervous." She admits, shuffling forward in a silent plea for a hug, which you immediately engage in.

"It's okay to be nervous, isn't it? Mami and I get nervous still and we're old." You joke, hearing her giggle slightly into your shoulder. "What's making you nervous?"

"The people." Anaís tells you, to which you nod understandingly.

"That's alright, thank you for telling me. There might be a lot of people today, most of them you will know though. They're all Mami's friends, aren't they?" She nods shyly when you move back to look at her face. "They are. You just stick with me and Mami when we see her, we've got you. Always. And if you don't want to stay for dinner, let me know and we can go home. Okay?"

"Okay." She smiles brightly up at you, an image you wished you could treasure forever, and you lean forward to kiss her forehead.

"Perfecta, mi amor. Venga!" You take her hand again and press the buzzer to be let into the building. "Do you know what Mami says when she gets nervous?"

"Mami asks for your besitos!" Anaís answers with a grin, catching you off guard. The question was more of a rhetorical one, but you had underestimated your daughter's cheekiness.

"Well, she does, but that's not what I was going to say." You laugh, cheeks red, opening the doors when they unlock. "Mami says that most of the time she doesn't need to feel nervous because the thing she was worrying about is never as bad as she thinks. Do you understand?"

"No." Anaís shrugs bluntly, again making you laugh as you lead her into the reception.

"Okay, chiqui, forget I spoke." You say with a light eye roll, the small girl giggling to herself beside you.

Signing both of you in, you make small talk with the receptionist who hands you two name stickers. Anaís was currently in a phase where she just could not get enough of stickers, so you gasp excitedly for her.

"Pegatina?" She looks up at you with a giddy face, politely snatching the sticker from you and putting it in the center of her sweater.

"Sí!" You smile at her excitement, and an idea comes to mind. You turn back to the receptionist with a plan. "Existe alguna posibilidad de que tengas una hoja extra de pegatinas en blanco? Mi chiqui los adora."

"Claro! Aquí tienes." The lady smiles brightly at you and hands over a sheet of blank stickers. She waves at Anaís, who returns the gesture shyly before you turn to her and show off the item in your hand.

"Mirar, Anaís! More stickers!" Your daughter gasps loudly at the surprise, gazing up at you like you'd just given her the best gift in the world.

"Gracias, Mama!" She squeals, moving to hug your leg tightly.

"No problem, mija. You can draw on them at dinner if you'd like." You say, ducking down to kiss the top of her head. "I'll put them away for now, Mami finishes training soon so we need to go."

With Anaís' hand in yours, you lead her through the building and towards the meeting room you had been informed to go through. Nowadays you were more than familiar with your way around the facilities, having been here numerous times, but you can tell Anaís is still a bit apprehensive. And as a result of yours and Alexia's healthy parenting habits, she didn't hesitate to tell you again.

"Mama, I'm scared." She says, tugging on your hand and coming to a standstill outside the office just as you go to open it.

"Scared about what?" You frown, bending down again and brushing a few wisps of her out of her face.

"Mami will not like her gift."

That broke your heart, because you could already picture Alexia's reaction when she saw what Anaís had done for her. You made a bet with Eli and Alba that she would cry when she received the gift, something they instantly agreed with.

"Anaís, I promise you, Mami will love her present. I know she will, you don't need to worry or be scared. She will really love them. I pinky promise." You hold her hand out for her to link fingers with you, and after a moment of careful consideration, she nods and seals the promise.

"Ready now." She says confidently, so you smile and stand up again.

Knocking twice, you open the door to find a few members of staff there - a few from Barça and a few from the team you'd worked with at Nike. In the middle of the table was the box that contained the surprise, and Anaís' eyes widened so far they almost bugged out of her head.

"There, Mama." She said in a loud whisper, the others in the room smiling brightly at her excitement.

"There they are! Let's go sit down and look at them."

You lead her to the table and sit down in a middle seat, keeping Anaís on your lap. One of the Nike staff talks you through them briefly, giving you an update on the process, and the whole time Anaís bounces giddily. She was getting a little antsy and you figured it was a bit of an odd situation for her to be in; sat in a room with unfamiliar people, one holding a camera to film the day, all whilst the thing she'd been desperate to see for over a month sat waiting in the middle. Somehow she had managed to keep the whole thing a secret, Alexia to your knowledge none the wiser about the whole thing. There were nearly a few slip-ups, but so far so good.

"Okay, that's all I think. You can look at them now."

Anaís grins as you reach for the box and pull it closer, putting it within reach for her to open it.

"Go on, Anaís, you can look."

You watch her face rather than look at the gift at first, your heart clenching at the utter joy and awe on her face as she lifts the lid off of the box. She lets out an adorable gasp, reaching a hand out and delicately picking up one of the things in there.

"Mama... I love them." She states, turning to look at you and showing off the item in her hand.

"They are amazing, aren't they? They came out perfect, wow." You take the other one out from the box, examining it closely. "Mami will adore them."

"When is she coming?" Anaís wonders, and you look up to the Barça staff.

"Training will finish any second now. They'll text when she's on h-" His phone pings as he speaks. "Ah, she is on her way now."

"Great! Anaís, let's put these back in the box so Mami can open it for herself." Anaís nods eagerly and carefully puts them back in, before turning and hugging you unexpectedly. "Hey, what's this for?"

"Mami will love her gift. I know it!" She squeals, pulling back and placing a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

"Thank you for that! How lucky I am to have such a kind, cute little girl, huh?" You smile at her, leaning forward to kiss all over her face. She squeals again and hides herself in your shoulder, pressing kisses of her own to your shirt. "Do you remember what to say when Mami walks in?"

"Umm... felicidades?" Anaís says, and you nod proudly.

"Perfect! Bien, mi niña."

No less then five minutes later, you can hear footsteps and a familiar voice coming down the corridor.

"-are you making me do media without showering? It was hot today, I'm all swe-"

Alexia cuts herself when she opens the door to see you and Anaís there. It's a far better surprise than media.

"What are you two doing here?" She asks with a huge smile on her face, frozen in place at the door.

"Say it, Anaís." You whispered in your daughter's ear.

"Felicidades, Mami." Anaís says shyly, and Alexia bounds over to her to pick her up and hug her tightly.

"Thank you, princesa! What a lovely surprise!" She exclaims, looking over at you for a bit of context.

"We have a better surprise for you. Come sit down." You tell her, patting the chair next to you.

Everyone else in the room stands back and watches, and Alexia takes her seat with Anaís curled into her side. With a quick kiss to her forehead, she gestures to the box in front of her.

"This?" She wonders, and before you could get a word in, Anaís pipes up.

"Open it, Mami! It is the best gift ever!" She urges, patting her leg to try and hurry her up.

"Alright, alright. Cheeky." Alexia tuts jokingly, reaching around Anaís to flick the lid open. Her jaw drops when she looks inside, and of all things in the world, she wasn't expecting them.

Inside, were two completely customised football boots, designed by Anaís with help from you and a team at Nike.

The design of the boots were fairly similar, except for a few tiny details that were special to each one. They were mainly white, and on each toe end of the boots were Anaís' hand prints in the blaugrana colours. Under the Nike tick on the outside of each boot were Anaís' initials with a penguin beside them. Additionally, under the logo on the inside of the boots were the words 'Vamos Mami' written in Anaís' squiggly handwriting. Every single detail, from the heartwarmingly poor stick figure drawing of Alexia on the back of the boots with the words 'My Hero' beside them, to the one of Alexia's favourite flowers and the other little contextual family inclusions, sent her into an emotional frenzy.

They were obviously majoritively designed by a small child, Anaís, but that was what made them so very special to Alexia. To her, they were probably the best gift she could've received purely based off of the sentimental value of them, and she had had tears in her eyes the moment she saw them.

"Anaís... wow." Alexia choked out, hastily wiping away one that slipped out. "You made these?"

"I did! Me and Mama!" Anaís claimed proudly, grinning up at Alexia and helping her to brush her tears away. But the sight of her crying confused her, and her smile quickly turned into a frown. "Oh. Not happy?"

"No, no, I'm so happy, Anaís, so happy. I love them so much that I'm crying, how silly?" Anaís giggled at her Mami, and the whole thing to you was ineffably adorable. "Oh wow. I really love them."

"Can you wear them for your games?" Anaís wonders.

"Well, I will, but only for my most important games. I don't want to ruin them and get them all muddy."

"We have a replica pair at home so you don't need to worry about that." You tell her, and she reaches over to take your hand, squeezing it gratefully.

"Thank you both. You really thought of everything." She shakes her head and sighs shakily, unable to tear her eyes away from them. "Anaís, is this a picture of me?"

Anaís giggles and nods as Alexia points to the stick figure of herself.

"I drawed it." Anaís says, and you stifle a laugh at the ridiculousness of the drawing. It is definitely easy to figure out it's done by an almost 3 year old.

"These are the best present I've ever got." It's then that she notices even the shoelaces are customised; red and blue hearts drawn by Anaís are patterned up and down the laces, and even the aglets of them have Anaís' name written there. "You both really thought of everything."

"We did our best." You affirm, leaning into her side when she holds her arm out. The arm of the chairs make it a little uncomfortable, but it doesn't take away from the moment.

"Tengo la mejor familia, eh?" Alexia whispers, kissing Anaís' forehead again, then your cheek. "Mis amores, are you staying for lunch?"

"Anaís was a little bit nervous about that earlier." You reveal, and the little girl nods sheepishly.

"Hey, that's okay! You can stay with me and Mama if you need to, everybody just loves seeing you smile, mi sol pequeña." Alexia says to Anaís, and the girl follows through immediately with her big, cheesy smile. "Exactly like that. Shall we go now? I'm hungry and I want to show off my amazing gift to everybody."

After that, the three of you make your way round to the cafeteria. Anaís sits on your lap throughout, eating a bowl of her favourite meal, tomato pasta, before drawing personalised name stickers for everyone she knows. Her tiny mind gets blown away when she finds out Mapi's last name means lion, so she of course has to sit with her for the rest of dinner to discuss such an outrageous topic. It gives you and Alexia a moment alone after it all, and she shuffles your chair closer so that she can whisper endless amount of soft words to you. She can't believe her fortune at having two people do such an act of kindness for her, and she makes sure the two of you know it.

The only thing is, those one of a kind boots aren't the sole surprise of the day. And the next one shocks you too.

Later that evening, as Alexia is in Anaís' room reading her a bedtime story and you do your skincare in the ensuite, something catches your eye in the back corner of the cupboard when you go to get your cleanser. It's a box you haven't paid any mind to since the first round of IVF for the second baby, as it had unfairly gotten your hopes up. But now it piques your interest too much, and whilst Alexia is busy elsewhere, you decide to do it.

You're not expecting anything, having been let down too many times, and that's why you scream so loud.

"Oh my fucking god!"

About half a millisecond later, Alexia comes running in with a disgruntled and half-asleep Anaís in her arms.

"What's wrong!?" She asks desperately, noticing your trembling shoulders as you faced away from her and your teary eyes in the mirror.

Slowly, you turn around, another hCG test in you hand.

"This s-says twenty-six, Ale." You stutter, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth.

The pair of you stare at each other in disbelief, eyes wide and jaws to the floor. You're probably an image to behold, with two under-eye masks on and spot cream dotted around your face, and Anaís in Alexia's hold looks less than pleased at the events that have occurred with her wild bed-head.

"It says what?!" Alexia cries out, breaking the stand-off and coming over to you so she can catch a look at it. "It does say twenty-six!"

"Ale..." You breathe out, looking up into her eyes and shaking your head. "I'm not falling for this again."

"Amor, don't start stressing. Let's take this as a good thing for now, and we will go to our appointment tomorrow like normal. Okay? Don't stress, please, this is a very good sign." Alexia reasurres you, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your shoulder comfortingly. Anaís still has no clue what's going on, but she sleepily puts an arm around your neck too, always one for a family hug.

"Last time though, it gave us a good score and it ended up being nothing." You sighed, closing your eyes in her hold.

"But last time wasn't as high as this. This is much better, this is an amazing sign. The only thing we can do is wait to see the nurse tomorrow, okay?" You nod reluctantly, sighing in frustration and pulling away. "Is it alright if I go put Anaís to sleep? Or do you want her to stay with us for a bit?"

You look at your daughter in Alexia's arms and instantly make a decision; you could never deny cuddles with her.

"Take her to bed with us."

For a little while, the three of you cuddle closely together in your bed, a film of Anaís' choice playing on TV even though she had fallen asleep less than ten minutes into it. Once it had finished, Alexia went to put her in her own bed before coming straight back to you. You try to settle into sleep, but it evades you due to your clouded mind, and Alexia notices. She spends an unknown amount of time reasurring you, also talking about everything and nothing to sooth you, until you eventually do fall asleep. It takes a while for her to get to sleep too, but she does with a smile on her face.

And she was right to have that smile, because the next day at your already scheduled blood test with the nurse, it's confirmed that you are pregnant. The relief is overwhelming, because it's not just the fact that you are finally pregnant, it also erases all the doubt and guilt and whatnot from the past eight months, finally clearing your head from it all. It's a huge weight off of your shoulders, and an almost equally large on off of Alexia's because the heartbreak she felt everytime, not only when a transfer failed, but when you loathed yourself after each one was so heavy, it nearly broke her in two. But here you were, healthy and happier than ever with a baby growing and a smile on your face.

Being able to tell family and friends a little while after was an incredible experience, somehow even better than telling them about Anaís, because they all knew the struggles of the past months and how difficult it had been for you and Alexia. Your favourite part though was telling Anaís, even if it was a little anti-climatic, because she simply shrugged and said 'about time' before asking to go to the park.

There was one little worry. Not a problem with your health or the baby, but with Anaís. Because she was so excited about having a sibling, except she often would say...

"It better not be a boy." She would huff grumpily, and she would say it unprompted too whilst doing things like drawing a family picture and adding a baby to the tummy of your stick figure or as she played with her dolls.

And it was certainly a worry because the baby did end up being a boy. It was yours and Alexia's plan to tell Anaís the gender on her birthday, but after finding out it was a boy, that didn't seem like such a great plan. Out of fear of possibly ruining her birthday, you told her the day after, and it went much better than you expected.

"Will he play dolls with me? And like stickers? And like drawing?" She had asked after a few moments of silence.

"He probably will, yes." You responded.

"He might even like football too." Alexia grinned, and Anaís easily matched her with a cheeky smile of her own as you rolled your eyes.

"I guess that's okay then."

As you months rolled on and you moved from trimester to trimester, Anaís fell more and more in love with her little brother. She loved talking about him, as well as talking to him whenever she was given a chance, her hands moving around your bump to feel his little kicks. With each one-sided conversation she had, she would end it with a kiss and a whisper of 'hurry up, chico!'

Your hormones had kicked in a little stronger this pregnancy, because every time Anaís would interact with your bump, your reaction would range from a lump in your throat, to full on tears. Alexia loved it, teasing you every so often, but she quickly figured out her limits after your tears of joy at Anaís soon turned into tears of pain when the baby dealt you a hard kick to the ribs. The Spaniard's face immediately paled when you screamed at her so furiously, it sent Anaís running for the hills through the house. Thankfully, the next day, the little girl forgot all about the night's events, until one day a while later she brought it up in front of her Tía Alba, and your face turned red with embarrassment.

Your little boy decided to bring himself into the world a tad early in September that year, with a bit of a longer labour and more complicated birth. But, in the end, her arrived safely and healthily, and the same went for you. Alexia had sat there, biting her nails anxiously as the doctors did their checks, but they ultimately gave you the all-clear and the nausea left her stomach.

"We still don't have a name." You huffed tiredly when Alexia took him from one of the nurses and brought him over to you.

"That's okay. We will figure it out. For now, just look at his cute face." Alexia smiled brightly, sitting beside you carefully and showing him off.

"He is cute." You sighed contently, resting your head on her shoulder. This birth had thoroughly taken it out of you, and it was a miracle you were able to keep your eyes open.

"He is chubby." Alexia hummed, and she winced when you lightly slapped her hip.

"Be nice to him." You scolded her, but Alexia was just glad to see the smile on your face that you failed to fight back.

"I am being nice, he just has very big cheeks." Alexia defended herself, raising a hand to lightly run the back of her finger along his cheek, a gesture you remember her doing for Anaís.

He was clearly much more fed up with the day then Anaís was when she was born, because he was already fast asleep. His little mouth was open, and sometimes when he fidgeted in his sleep, his tongue would poke out momentarily. Alexia laughed quietly whenever he did as you watched them both, already absolutely infatuated with the sight.

"I can't wait for Anaís to meet him." Alexia stated, and you nodded in agreement. "Can we ring her? Or do you want to rest some more?"

"No, let's ring her. I miss her."

For obvious reasons, it had been over a day since you'd last seen Anaís, the longest you'd gone without being with her. Alexia passed your son over to you and got her phone out of her pocket, going onto it and getting up her Mami's contact.

"You're sure?" She checked, and you nodded.

Within three rings, Eli answered the FaceTime call, and before she could even speak, Anaís' face took over the whole screen.

"Is he here yet, Mami?" She asked quietly, and Alexia couldn't resist.

"No, not yet, I'm sorry chiqui."

"Ale! Don't be mean, tell her."

As soon as Anaís heard your voice, she gasped excitedly, hoping she had correctly interpreted your words.

"He is here?"

"He is. There he is." Alexia turned the camera so that you and the baby were in view for Anaís to see, and her face was adorable.

"Oh my... he is so cute." She whispered, noticing he was asleep and speaking as quietly as she could. "I love him."

"You do?" Alexia said, her heart filled with more love than she ever thought possible.

"I really love him." Anaís smiled brightly. "Is Mama okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay, thank you mi niña. I am very, very tired, but I'm alright." You told her, and she nodded, glad to hear it.

"Does he have a name?" You shook your head and saw her eyes light up. "I have a name!"

"Go on." Alexia prompted her, not really expecting anything that could be a good suggestion.

"Oriol!" Anaís said proudly.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, wondering where on earth she got that from, but happy with it nonetheless. It was already on the name list you and Alexia had, and it was actually one of your favourites. But the pair of you just couldn't choose, so you decided to shortlist a few and to wait and see until he is born. Oriol was indeed a name on the shortlist.

"Yes, that is a good name." You nodded, looking at Alexia to see what she thought.

"I really like that name, well done chiqui." Alexia replied, and the pair of you share a glance.

Speaking with Anaís for a little longer, you both notice her getting progressively more tired as it got closer to her bedtime. With the promise that she can visit tomorrow, you say goodbye to her and let her take one final look at her brother before she goes to the room she was staying in at Eli's. You stay on the phone with Eli for a few moments, smiling at all the praise she offers you, before she bids you both farewell and hangs up.

"So..." Alexia started, looking down at your son. "I think we have a solution to our problem?"

You look down at him too, knowing what Alexia was talking about, and nod.

"I think we do."

When Anaís visits the next day, she hugs you and Alexia tightly first, having missed her two favourite people in the world for the short time she was away. Then, Alexia gets the baby out of the hospital cot and shows him to her, and she's fascinated by him. She quickly has a moment of overwhelming excitement, and she jumps around on the spot away from him so that she can, in her own words, 'get it all out' before she holds him.

Sitting on the chair beside your bed, pillows scattered around her, Alexia carefully places him in her arms that hold him securely. Unsurprising to you, you immediately well up at the sight, wanting to burn the image into your mind forever. She makes sure she holds him properly, asking Alexia every so often if she's doing it right, before she leans down and kisses his hat-covered head softly. Alexia shows her a special 'trick', where she offers her finger out to the baby and Anaís gasps quietly when he wraps his hand around Alexia's finger. The moment only forces more tears out of you, and Alexia looks up at you and flashes you a teasing smile. Her attention is drawn away from you not a second later when Anaís asks something.

"Does he have a name yet?"

Just like last night, you and Alexia share a glance, before you turn back to Anaís.

"His name is Oriol."

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine #woso fic #woso imagine #woso #woso community

[pursuitseternal]

“Your body’s already given you away:” life-saving, body heat smut for “Bites in the Night”

Spawn!Astarion x F!Reader |E| 4K

🎨by @zuzanamariana, @qveenofthorns on Twt— NSFW full version under the cut

Summary: Storms come quickly in the Mountain Pass, and they are brutally cold. What if your only chance for survival was in the hands of your well-fed Vampire love…

CW: oral sex, near deaths experience, fighting hypothermia, Astarion is bad at feelings, PiV, possessive, protective Astarion, a rescue mission that wishes they hadn’t found them the next morning.

Ao3 link |Series ao3 link| Masterlist

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Night falls fast in the Mountain Pass, the thin air makes you struggle a bit harder to breathe… that, or it’s the way Astarion licks your folds clean of your mixture of cum after your rigorous coupling… Some hunting and foraging mission… you laugh at yourself. He lifts his head, lapping the blood on his chin from where he’s fed from you, cleaning himself of all that mess you made together.

“The camp might go hungry, darling… but I assuredly have not,” he flashes that wicked smirk as he moves to hover over your half-dressed body as you lay on the ground.

“You’ve never been a selfless one,” you tease, wiping your thumb to clean one last spot of blood from the side of his cheek.

“We only said we would try to find something to eat…” he runs a finger through the trail of blood on your neck that still dries and sucks his fingers clean. “I have found something to eat… and it was oh so delicious.” His voice is pure velvety seduction, and you’re sure you would risk anything in this cool Mountain Pass if he asked to take you again, one more time under the bright stars.

But as you open your eyes, you don’t see stars… you see a flash of light…. A rumble of thunder follows in the distance. “Shit,” you panic, shoving him off of you as you scramble to pull your breeches back on and fix your tunic and jacket. “We are a long way from camp… we need to beat the storm.”

Astarion only lays completely naked on the ground, smirking up at you. “The way your heart just pounds when you’re afraid is truly delightful, you know,” he taunts you, seemingly unwilling to leave. His hand reaches for yours as if to pull you back down for more of his attention, but you bat it away.

“No games, my vampire. Mountain storms are no laughing matter, not that you would know, city boy…”

He raises a defensive, ostentatious finger at you and waves it. “I’ll have you know, I didn’t always…”

A burst of light, a crack of thunder silences even his sass. A few drops of rain start to fall, and you just shake your head at your careless, foolish vampire as he tries to scramble into all his clothes. Picking up the packs of supplies, you start down the trail of the mountain, his feet hastening behind you as you make turn after turn.

Rain falls harder and harder until you can barely see. All that keeps you together is his vice-like grip on your elbow to keep you sure footed, a trait you characteristically lack without him. “We have to get out of the rain!” you scream at him, right for his pointy ear, as lighting illuminates the mountain path around you.

“Any brilliant ideas?” he belts back at you.

“You’re the elf, the vampire… what do your sharp eyes see?”

“Oh, same as yours, I imagine,” he snipes in reply. “Lots of fucking rain.” Suddenly he feels you shaking in his hand… You’re shivering and chattering, lips blue as the rain pours over your whole body. “What in the hells?” he asks himself more than you. “You… can’t be…” he watches your eyes rolling back in your head as your body collapses. “Oh for fucks sake, why can’t you also be undead for these sorts of things?” He teases exasperatedly to the silence, but only because his heart aches, his soul made heavy as he throws you over his shoulder and makes his way to the mountain side.

There’s a quick burst of lighting, just enough to reveal the mouth of a cave, and Astarion hopes it’s warm and dry and safe. He manages to fumble his way into the dark, every sense inside him scans for danger, but he hears nothing and smells nothing. He carefully sets your shivering body down. Sticks scattered around the cave floor are easy for him to collect; a simple spell casts enough fire to get a little warmth started. The storm rages just outside the shallow cave… and the light is enough for him to scan your face, your eyes shut and lips trembling and blue from the mountain chill and rain.

“Godsdammit, wake up,” he shakes you. His hands pull you against his chest. But both your bodies are soaked. His mind whirs, every instinct for survival kicking in. He searches through the pack; a single blanket near the bottom isn’t soaked. His hands work quickly over your own nearly-corpse-cold body to pull off your wet clothes from your numb limbs. Carefully he cradles your head, pulling you closer to the fire and wrapping you in the one dry thing he’s found.

Gods… this must be how I look… he stares at your ephemeral beauty, your skin devoid of color, chilling to the touch. The only differences are the slow rush of chattering breath in your lungs and the slightly faster beat of your heart than his own. Not that he’s counting every pulse that rushes in your carotid to make sure you’re still alive.

For your own sake. Not his…. He shakes his head in further denial.

But still, you shiver, moaning and mumbling to yourself, and not in that cute way you do when you sleep heavily in your mortal sleep as he watches you in his bedroll. This is… sickly… frail. Your skin is cold, even to him.

But if you are cold to his touch… he must be warmer. He pulls off his own wet clothes. Trying to dry his skin off as much as possible, he lays under the blanket beside you, covering your back with his flesh, and pressing you closer to the fire. Thank whatever gods were listening that he fed on you and fed so well before.. giving him just enough bloom of life in his undead body to share your body heat back with you.

“What good is a living, beating heart if you give up now?” He hisses vehemently to himself, taking your right arm, he rubs it, getting the blood to flow to warm your fingers, colder than he is in undeath. Huffing his mildly warm breath on his palms, he does the same with the other arm. Then he raises up the blanket, repeating that attentive rubbing and shaking with your legs. The scent of your coupling at the apex of your thighs makes his stomach turn. What in the hells had he been thinking…. Making you both stay out so far from camp…

That sharp slice of guilt gets pushed down quickly as he touches your thigh and rubs. Then your other leg. They both twitch, your breath starts to come a bit more pronounced.

Quickly, he throws two more large branches on the fire and slides under the blanket, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He slinks one hand under your nose to make certain you’re breathing. “For fucks sake,” he snarls. “You had better not die, don’t be selfish, darling…”

That’s when your eyes finally open, hearing that edge of sass in his voice. “Ast…ar…” your voice shakes as your teeth chatter still.

“Shh, back from the grips of death,” he smirks a bit cocky, “at least that’s one of us,” he gives that high-pitched, inane giggle. You struggle to sit up, but that arm just braces you back to the ground…

…not unlike the moment you met this Vampire. But your mind struggles to make sense of reality, the memories of that wreckage and the warm sun… the chill that still creeps over your bones.

You shiver hard, and he only holds you closer to his body, scooting you closer to the fire. “Please don’t insist on being stupid. Just hold still. We had the good sense to let me feed so much from… all those parts of you…” he feels you shiver at the memory of his tongue on your neck and between your thighs, “it’s given me enough of your blood in my veins to correct your foolishness.”

“My f-f-foolishness?” you fight the stutter on your tongue. You lie there, looking up at him as he lifts that haughty, grinning face to hover over yours. Head resting on his palm, elbow bent right beside your ear, he traces that lukewarm touch over the top of your arm.

“You’re in no condition to debate me, darling,” he smirks down at you. “Maybe you should save your strength and just let me try to warm you up for once.” He shakes his head, a disparaging grin as he raises up even higher, keeping those taunting, crimson eyes focused on the way his fingers run up and down your skin. “They say rubbing helps….” He flashes you that fanged grin and leans his face into yours. “Anywhere in particular you really want me to warm you up?”

You shiver still under his hand that is drawing your blood to pound a little warmer, a little more lively. “Fuck you,” you snipe back at him, managing not to chatter your teeth for once.

“Oh, you’re not ready for that again, my dear.” His voice is warmer than the fire, and makes your skin prickle more than the feeling that slowly returns to your body. If you weren’t still blue in the lips and weak in the hands, you’d be torn between slapping that conceited grin or kissing those irritating and attractively curling lips. “Now hush,” he furrows his brows as if he can chastise your thoughts, “and let me make you feel hot… all… over.”

“I hate you,” you hiss, his hands indeed dragging a lukewarm touch over your collarbone to trace around your upper body. He manages to touch you everywhere but your breasts, and even still your nipples seem to harden even more.

He tuts his tongue at you, leering now with an increasingly predatory gleam. “No, you don’t…” he gives a low, deep throated laugh, the likes of which you hear rarely, only in these moments when you feel totally played under his fingertips, that little edge of danger flitting behind his eyes. That wandering, teasing touch wanders lower, still touching you with a little hint of warmth and friction, but never anywhere you crave for it to brush.

“I… notice I’m naked…” you say as he brushes his fingers over your smooth skin.

“A necessity,” he grunts, feeling you shift your back against him more deliberately. “Wet clothes would only make it harder for you to thaw.”

“…and I notice you’re naked too…”

“Well,” he hems, his hand pausing right on the crest of your hip, “skin to skin is the best method of sharing heat, and given how little I am warmed even after your delicious blood today…”

“Seems like one of us is doing well for thems-s-selves,” you shiver hard one more time, your ass brushing against his belly, but he lacks that familiar prod of his erection against the backs of your thighs. Uncharacteristically soft.

He scoots back the moment he feels you brush him there… a tell-tale clearing of his throat as his hand starts to rub your side… your collarbone… harder and faster. “Ahhh,” he sighs dramatically, starting to press his lips to your pulse point, “there’s that merry dancing of your heart, darling. And all it took was a crooked touch…” he smirks down at you, “…easy…” He purrs in that same voice he uses to gloat when he cracks open a chest of loot.

Only the loot now is your life.

You do in fact sense the tingling beginning to fade, the numbness thawing in your hands and feet. You reach to catch his hand in yours. The shock of your cold touch makes him jump slightly for once. And you smirk a bit at the reversal, your moment of revenge. Pressing those magical lengths of his fingers to your lips, you breathe across the top of them. “A good thing you’re just so skilled with these, my rogue, even if, given the circumstances, you were more nervous today…”

“Nervous?” he scoffs at the words, letting you hold his hand to your lips again. “I am never nervous, darling. I knew you’d come around, knew you’d wake back up with the right tender care.” Those crimson eyes flicker as he inhales sharply, determinedly reaching his hand from your soft lips to grip your chin and turn your smirking face up into his.

But you just snicker softly, sliding your back until you’re flush against him. “Nervous,” you insist, another deliberate grind of your backside against his lower body, still stirring to life. “When have you ever held me naked in your arms and not been…”

“Alright, hush you,” his eyes narrow, a bit intimidating and playful at once, as he moves that grip on your chin to close your mouth. “Some way of thanking your saviour…” he smirks, tip twisting to that rakish angle. “It was cold…”

You nod your head, matching his gaze with an insolent one.

“…I was distracted, focused on keeping that pretty little heart of yours beating…”

“Uh huh…” you nod again, lifting your head a bit to close that distance on his defensive, impish half-smile.

“How dare you,” he hisses dramatically. “I am a vampire, forever young, seduction incarnate. I need but a drop of blood to make myself harder and as beautiful as marble sculptures.”

You grind against his hips, that cock of his still only semi-hard, cradled by those perfect balls of his.

“Seems like you could use a top off of my blood then…” you taunt with another grind of your ass cheek.

“Please…” he snips with a suck of his teeth. “I’m doing you a favor, I know how insatiable you are when I’m that excited. And you were in no state for rigorous activity.”

Another rub of your rear against his, your hand reaches to grip into that perfect arch of his own ass. Your voice sounds rough with need and edged with sultry mockery: “Alright, Mister Seduction Incarnate… ”

“Tut tut, you can’t tell me you disagree.” He brushes his lips to your ear, his breath cool again, your own pulse strong enough to thrum behind his voice as he rasps that familiar line: “Your body’s already given you away…. Warming up so quickly under my touch, coming back to life for your undead lover…”

Now it’s your turn to suck your teeth and act condescending. “Tch, you’re not that hot you know.”

“Now that your blood has receded I suppose my touch is cooler again, my heart beating so slow once more…” you feel his legs hook yours, slipping between your thighs, one rakish devil of a knee pushing your legs apart. “Unless you meant my ruinous good looks, in which case,” he pushes you into the dirt, the blanket and the campfire no longer the only things making your body warmed all over. “Good thing you’re not so freezing any more so I can prove it to you otherwise.”

He presses his mouth to your ear, his lips sucking the shell of your ear, fangs dragging over the soft lobe at the bottom. “All that grinding you did… you tease… that’s the thanks I get for saving your life.”

“I needed friction…” you pout, a little bratty in your tone.

He presses harder, his pelvis against yours. “Likely story from someone who thinks themselves oh so charming…” Bucking harder, you feel that revealing twitch against your mound. “Show me how lively you are now, darling, and I’m sure we can both warm up wonderfully.”

You arch your back into the dirt of the cave, a blush barely starting to bloom over your cheeks as he looks down at you, like you’re something precious and delicious all at once. That silken touch traces your rosy cheek, and for all his bravado and taunting, you see a light of relief in the deep crimson of his eyes. But before you can let it sink in how much he just might care for you… he dives for your neck and bites again.

For as sudden as his teeth break your sin, his lips and tongue caress you, delicate laps and tender little suckles. Just enough to bring an edge of warmth back in his hands that roams your collarbone and wanders down to clutch around your breast. The moment your blood hits his veins, you feel that hardness thicken.

You grin as he lifts that scarlet smile from your neck. “Seems like someone is happy to see me alive,” you taunt, raising your hips to rub against his increasing erection that prods up to your navel.

Astarion chuckles, that well practiced smile masking his thoughts as he slowly, agonizingly drags his length forward… and back… over your mound. Fingers tease your nipples, softly plucking them to little hard pebbles. “A little gratitude wouldn’t go amiss,” he rasps down at you, watching you grow pinker under his caresses with an eagerness that draws his face that much sharper.

“Say it…” you sigh as he continues to hump that mass of curls between your thighs so slowly. “Admit it.” Your voice is insistent, your hands grip into that perfect roundness of his ass.

“I’ll admit,” he gives that peeved little sigh, “you were trouble to carry over my shoulders in the rain. A miracle I didn’t drop you.” Nails dig slightly into your breast. “

“Insufferable,” you sigh, baiting him as your own hand slips between where he hovers over you to catch those perfectly rounded, smooth and velvety balls of his. “Admit you were… nervous.”

“I’m more nervous now that you’ve got those in your grip, darling,” he gives a pleasured, breathless laugh as you toy with them slowly.

“So you were a little nervous before, when I was nearly lifeless in your arms?” you push him with your words, a slightly rougher tug on his balls to emphasize your point.

He grabs for your wrist and pulls your hand to rest on his chest, an adoring little kiss on your palm before he puts it where his heart would be beating. For a moment he gives you a wordless answer, it’s small and subtle: just a softening of those taunting creases at the corner of his eyes as they go tender and wide. It’s just a hint of what had been raging inside, the inner tempest of his fear siphoning off to a single tear that remains unshed in the corner of his blood-red eyes.

A flash of his fangs in his smile, and it’s gone, that worry. He doesn’t even let you dwell on it, not as he grinds suddenly harder against your folds, angling perfectly to drag that rock hard, velvety length over your clit until…

…you gasp, suddenly filled to the brim as he slides his way inside. As if he would be unnoticed.

He laughs deep in his chest as you arch, receiving the welcome intrusion. Gripping the back of your knees, he splays you wide, that blanket long shrugged off now, leaving just your skin to glow in the firelight and the fading flashes of lighting from the cave mouth. “Well… it seems something has made you all hot and bothered, darling…” he purrs down at you, raising your right leg even higher as he makes slow, deliberate thrusts into your slick.

“Yeah, you did to make sure I didn’t slip away permanently on you…” you try to make light of your own near-death.

That softness returns for a moment. “Can you blame me?” he barely makes enough sound to be heard, something quieter, more secretive than a whisper. Then he shakes his head, returning to smirking and pounding harder into you, arm wrapped tightly around your leg to keep your folds close to him. “Or rather, can you thank me?” That haughty, velvet tone returns.

You reach a hand for his smirking, arrogant, gorgeous face, your lips softly smiling as he stills for a moment as you brush his cheek. “Thank you,” is all your whisper.

Floodgates burst, he lowers that leg and covers you with his body. Arms snug around your shoulders, legs pressed beneath yours to push your thighs high and wide for him. An embrace of lust… of a little death, where every inch of his body is aimed to possess you. Protect you.

He won’t say it outloud, his mouth too busy deeply diving into yours, dancing his tongue and consuming your every breath before it leaves your lips. Every slap of his body into yours makes your teeth rattle and your neck tight. Or maybe that’s the way he has one hand clawed into your hair at the nape of your neck, two fingers pressed into your pulse point. As if he’s just making triple sure your heart beats, alive still and always for him.

A wave of pleasure crashes into you, you didn’t even recognize where it began, barely feeling where it ends. It seems constant, a simultaneous rending and refilling of your body under his taught frame as he fucks you. His lips suck yours, as if he needs to know you breathe. His hand claws your left breast, as if he needs to feel the thumping of your living heart beneath it. Fangs grit, hips erratic, he drives into you harder and faster. A burst of wet, a groan in your mouth, and you finally feel him stilling and shuddering as he fills you with his seed. His full weight presses you into the cave floor, a smile of relief spreads on his lips as he nuzzles into the top of your breasts, squashed as they are under his shoulders.

“Warmer?” he grumbles, half into his trance already. “After all that hard work of mine, I sure hope so…” His sleepy voice warms your heart more than even his body could blushed with life from feeding.

“Mmhmm,” I all you manage to say against the tufted top of his white curls as you nod off too.

Before you know it, you’re waking up again to the sounds of birdsong outside the cave, the scent of faded fire in your nose, that meager pile of logs long gutted out. His mussy, unkempt hair tickles your face as you realize he’s still tranced on top of you. That when you hear soft laughter from the mouth of the cave.

Your companions… your rescue party, come to lend a hand… until they find you with more than a hand at your service.

“Hmm,” Gale’s blustering and flustered voice brings you soundly out of your sleep. “Seems a rescue mission wasn’t necessary after all…”

“And here we thought we’d play the hero,” Wyll’s good-humored laugh is tinged just a bit judgy.

Astarion grumbles as he comes too as well, naked body still blanketing yours beneath your single cover.

“No, no,” Shadowheart’s chortle irks you as you feel Astarion shift enough to raise his sleepy head… and reveal your bare breasts that had served as his pillow, “seems like the Vampire remembered that skin to skin is the best way to exchange body heat. Not that he has any, mind you…”

“They’re just jealous I saved your life, darling,” his voice crackles still with sleep even as he shifts to cover you naked body from their view with his own.

“Yes, I’m sure they totally buy the fact that you’re warming me with your corpse-cold body….” You taunt him with that sharp sarcasm of yours and run your hands under the blanket to squeeze his ass. “Even with your good looks, you’re not that convincing.” You kiss him, a simple caress he eagerly accepts and quickly turns deeper and ravenous as he groans between your lips….

…and the rest of your companions groan too as they leave you two to it.

#astarion x reader #reader x astarion #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!reader #astarion smut #astarion romance #astarion fic #astarion fanfiction #bg3 astarion fanfic #astarion fan art #astarion fanfic #astarion fanart #astarion baldurs gate #baldur’s gate astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion art #tav x astarion #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 #bg3 fanart #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 art #baldur’s gate 3

[creativiburst]

Reincarnation (Penguin x Reader)

Penguin x Reader

Tags: Angst, reincarnation, short, gender-neutral. 2nd person

Summary: Reader eats a Devil Fruit that keeps them living forever. Over the years, they've seen different reincarnation of Penguin. Falling in love with him each time and seeing the patterns of his lives.

Devil fruits are rare nowadays, the past of the New World and pirating is seemingly gone. Thousands of years of living really taught you that everything comes again. Every person is reborn into a different cycle. Perhaps one lifetime they were a medical doctor and the next, a teacher. 

It was an idea to some that reincarnation was a thing, but to you, it was reality. The devil fruit you ate centuries ago still kept you going. Looking like you did on the day you bit into its bitter flesh. The day you wondered if you should regret.

Thoughts roamed your mind off and on as you watched towns, cities, and even empires be destroyed and rebuilt. The government falls and is pulled back up. Those you would see be brought back through the cycle to remember nothing of you. It was a lonely existence. 

Yet, when his cycle hit, you waited. Bated breath, you waited for the connecting paths to cross as they always did. The first time, it was a hunter in a small collection of humans. He wore the fur of animals over his head to protect his eyes from the sun. A common trait of his. With a gentle smile, he’d reach for you. Offering his hand for you to follow him, to be with him, to stay. 

The last time, he was a pirate. How he would wear a silly hat with a penguin on top, only to find out that would be his name this time. How your first time would be him reaching for your hand, asking if you were okay as you tripped on the dirty road. The same shadowed eyes. It was too much like the first that you just started crying. He panicked and quickly made sure you were okay, which just made you cry more.

After that, you were just with him. Watching how his pirate lifestyle would make him so similar to that first hunter. The spear really driving the point deeper as it was his weapon of choice. You’d smile at his from afar, watching him do his tasks and talk to those you remembered. The orca lover bearing a resemblance to every best friend he had. After living that pirate life, he had a feeling you weren’t going to be buried with him. And like the first life, he never asked why. For him to be able to look at you as such an old age with such love had you cry each time. Yet he’d always remind you in each cycle, in each life, “I’d love you again and again in another time if you gave me the chance.” He was always right. 

This cycle had you worried though, you hadn’t seen him since his pirate life and much had changed. Technology spiked and the water levels had finally gone down. The government does not have as much power as they once did. It seemed like a long lasting civilization. Which meant more people were born. The most you had seen. It was scary to know that perhaps… you wouldn’t see him this time. You wouldn’t get to spend his life holding his hand, unable to tell him that you had done it once and many times before. 

Even if you were to explain you ate an extremely rare Devil Fruit… you doubt he’d believe. Letting out a heavy sigh, you were starting to lose hope on the fact you’d see him. Your heart was yearning for the that tender love you remembered he’d give. That smile he’d always grow when seeing you. Those hands that were firm yet gentle to hold you with. 

The tears came like clockwork as you finally had enough. Stepping into an alleyway, you bent down to slightly sob. You couldn’t shake away the heart that had been broken and repaired too many times. The fruit you ate finally settling into a curse. Tears stained your hands and shirt as you did you best to see through all the emotions.

A packaged ice cream bar found it’s way into your vision which confused you a bit. Looking up and sniffling, you saw him. A hat hiding those eyes and a smile that melted you. He held out the ice cream and offered it. 

“Don’t know why you’re crying, but ice cream makes everything better.” he grinned, waiting for you to take it. Taking a moment to process everything, you slowly took the package. Standing up, you tried your best to clean yourself up. 

“Thank you..” you rasped out, clearing your throat after. 

“Of course. I hope you feel better.” handing you a small tissue, you watched as he waved a goodbye. Blotting your eyes with the tissue, you soon began to realize that perhaps… perhaps fate always planned you two to be connected. 

Opening the ice cream, you realized… it was your favorite flavor.

#one piece #x reader #one piece penguin #one piece x reader #penguin x reader #angst

[rowanthestrange]

I’ll confess I'm an odd duck who actually prefers what Chibs did with Tegan and Nyssa to any ‘actually they’re wives’ ending, no matter how cute I find that idea.

A) It feels real - the old companions don't have space-time travel access, that’s the point, it’s why they all have so much unresolved trauma because so many parts couldn’t be directly addressed, Tegan wouldn't have seen Nyssa again. That’s a fairytale ‘winning lottery ticket’ ending that no one in the real world gets, and I generally prefer realism in my stories (though no shame to those who don’t).

But also because B) That makes her perfect to help Yaz, I think by very deliberate design. Tegan also lost her alien not-girlfriend. It probably took her a long time — or more likely implied to be never, with multiple failing heterosexual marriages — to process that. And here is Yaz is in such a similar position.

It gives her the chance for Tegan to support Yaz in not making the same mistakes she did, and in the process, maybe resolve her own feelings, which might not be so easy given the time she was raised in. And here is Yaz, who also didn’t know that what she was actually feeling was love, not friendship, for the longest time. Perhaps may not have even really examined her sexuality particularly prior to that, and while that’s far easier for a woman who grew up in a time where being gay is far less of an issue, she’s a muslim, she’s not ignorant to homophobia, and would certainly understand someone finding that difficult, if like her they’d never noticed, or perhaps not wanted to notice, the difference in those feelings for this person in particular.

They are both incredibly complementary to helping each other heal.

Which is what this has always all been about - healing. And it never being too late to.

I know it’s not as nice a story, but I think it’s a better story.

#power of the doctor #tegan/nyssa #nyssa/tegan #chibs writes worlds more than stories #which especially if we’d just hit hiatus #would be ideal #but it means this is where things come together #in the sitting down and thinking where the lines will intersect #if you follow them down their paths long enough #(i mean i would also prefer eh a little more story vs world) #(on balance) #(but if it’s going to be lopsided) #(for doctor who i’d err towards world too) #(because you’re laying foundations for hundreds of writers) #(rather than simply creating a thing by yourself)

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: In The Serpent's Den.

Pairing: Yandere!Suguru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 4.7k.

TW: Non/Con, Hybrid AU, AFAB!Reader, Cobra!Suguru, Rabbit!Reader, Biting, Aphrodisiacs, Heat Cycles, Oviposition, Manipulation, Biting, Breeding Kinks, and Predator/Prey Dynamics.

“It’s time to come out, little rabbit.”

 His tone was sickly sweet, lulled into something saccharine and tempting, only slightly distorted by the uncommon shape of his tongue. Despite his melodic coaxing, you curled further into yourself – pulling your thighs flush to your chest and burying your knees in your face, doing your best not to breathe, not to cry, not to make a sound. The temptation to uncurl yourself entirely and run, run, run until you found somewhere small and dark and safe gnawed on the back of your mind, but it never would’ve worked. You were in Suguru’s enclosure, Suguru’s territory, and there was nowhere to run where he wouldn’t be able to follow.

“I’m losing my patience, little rabbit. If you come out now, I promise I’ll try to hold myself back.”

Why was he even looking for you? It’d been weeks since his eccentric, white-haired owner forced you into the sprawling greenhouse that made up Suguru’s enclosure, and he’d never paid you a second glance. You did your best to avoid him, to make sure you never crossed his path while he was prowling for a meal. You could count the number of times he’d acknowledged you on a single hand, and he’d never so much as lunged at you. You couldn’t imagine why he’d decided you’d make a good meal now, after weeks of relatively peaceful cohabitation. Maybe he’d gotten tired of keeping you around, of having to share his territory with another hybrid – one so far below him on the food chain. Maybe, this was just the first time he’d gotten hungry enough to hunt you down.

You heard branches shift, twigs break, and instantly, all of your thoughts (rational and otherwise) were replaced with a frantic, buzzing static. “You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Suguru went on, and his voice was too loud, too close. You’d tucked yourself into the densest patch of foliage you could find, but your white ears and cottony tail stood out like blood on snow against the vivid greens and blacks of the flora. Suddenly, trying to hide at all felt stupid. Rabbits weren’t supposed to hide. Rabbits were supposed to die and get eaten by the big, mean snakes who preyed on them. “I’m going to find you, and when I do, you’re only going to be sorry you made me wait as long as I have.”

You could hear the dull drag of scales moving over rough stone, the ebbing ‘hiss’ that formed a slight lisp at the end of each sentence. You raised your head just far enough to see a large, black shape move in front of you, and something buried deep inside of you cracked and spilled open.

Running wasn’t a choice – it was the only option. You were on your feet in a second, sprinting deeper into the greenhouse in another. The direction didn’t matter. As long as you got away from him, nothing else mattered.

Blindly, you vaulted over fallen branches and overgrown roots, rotting leaf litter threatening to steal your balance as you veered away from the beaten path and threw yourself into the tangled wilderness. If Suguru was chasing you, you couldn’t hear him – the world little more than a blur of color and your own racing pulse. You just needed to find somewhere better to hide, somewhere he’d forgotten. A tunnel, or a tree hollow, or a cave dark enough to hide your snowy pelt from prying eyes. You just needed to—

 Your trek came to an abrupt end as your collided with a pane of thick, emerald-tinted glass and were sent crashing to the ground. It took you a second to process what you’d run into – the wall of the greenhouse, the edge of Suguru’s enclosure – and another to remember that you weren’t in the wilderness, anymore, that you wouldn’t find a tunnel or a cave or anywhere else to hide that hadn’t been created deliberately to trick animals like you into to think they were safe. You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so desperate. You might’ve gone looking for Suguru yourself, if you hadn’t been too scared to remember what it meant to be caged.

Fighting back tears, you started to scramble onto your feet, but it was already too late. There was no sound, no warning, just a sudden pressure against your back and an agonizing pain burrowed into the side of your throat. His fangs were planted in your neck before you could so much as scream, his strong tail wrapped around your legs and his arms crossed over your midriff, keeping your body locked against his as he pinned you to the ground. You expected his venom to burn, to be able to feel death as it flooded into your veins, but instead, there was only a slight numbing sensation around the point of insertion, a distant fog over your senses that might’ve just been your own fading adrenaline. If anything, you felt…

You felt warm.

Suguru took his time pulling away, his ribbon-like tongue flickering over the skin of your throat before he lifted his head. You weren’t facing him, one of your cheeks pressed into the dirt, but you could just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, make out the dark hair tucked behind his shoulders, the pitch-black scales littered over his face, his chest. You knew he was a snake, but you thought you might’ve heard his owner call him something else, once or twice. A ‘cobra’, maybe, but you’d never met a cobra before. You felt safer thinking of him as a snake.

He opened his mouth, but you were already babbling. Trying not to cry had been useless. Tears poured down your cheeks unabashedly, blurring your vision and making it that much harder to spit something coherent out. “P-please don’t eat me – I’m really small for a rabbit, and I promise I won’t taste very good, and I—”

“Quiet, little rabbit.” You’d been wrong, before. You didn’t feel warm, no, you felt hot – something deep inside of you beginning to smolder at the sound of his voice. Immediately, you shut your mouth, and he rewarded you with a raspy chuckle. “You thought I was going to… to eat you?” You nodded stiltedly, and he went on. “Ah, no wonder you were so afraid. And here I thought my timid little bunny just didn’t like me very much.”

“…’m sorry.” You must’ve run farther than you realized. A few minutes of sprinting shouldn’t have left you this breathless, this dazed. “You… You aren’t going to eat me?”

“No, bunny. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“But, you bit—”

“I gave you a present.” Another dry chuckle, his tongue flitting over the back of your neck. “Just a little something to make sure you wouldn’t be so shy. You should already be feeling better.”

You weren’t sure that you felt better, but you didn’t feel scared, either. A different feeling had taken the place of your fear – the sensation viscous and churning and prone sending pangs of dull, burning pain to the pit of your stomach. You had to make a conscious effort to move your lips, and even then, it was hard to get any sound past your suddenly dry throat. Suguru waited patiently, seemingly more than happy to watch you stumble over your own tongue. “It’s really warm,” you managed, eventually. “I think I might be… tired?”

“Oh, of course. I forgot how easy it is for prey animals to wear themselves out. I’ll take you back to my nest, where you’ll be able to rest safely.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded eagerly. Safe. You wanted to be safe. You couldn’t remember what you needed to be safe from anymore, though.

He uncurled, but didn’t pull away from you. Rather, your smaller body was pulled against his broad chest as he took you in his arms and carried you through the greenhouse. His destination was a raised loft – set above the wild foliage of his enclosure, accessible only by a sparsely wrung ladder you never would’ve had a hope of climbing on your own. His nest wasn’t at all like a rabbit’s nest, either. Rather than a deep, dark tunnel padded with fur and leaves, he’d taken you to a mess of tangled roots and woven blankets, all piled onto one another to form a box-like bed. Your form, limper than you would’ve liked it to be, was laid on a relatively soft patch, and Suguru positioned himself above you; upper body supported by his forearms, his never-ending tail taking up whatever space you left unoccupied. You wanted to sleep, to do what he said you should, but he was still touching you – dragging a single, clawed finger down your chest and over your midriff, only pausing at your waist to draw slow, swirling patterns into your hip. “My venom has a unique side-effect, you know,” he muttered, his voice low and soothing, the tapered tip of his tail lashing from side to side as he spoke. “A full dose would be fatal. It’d be fast, too – a few seconds of screaming, a few seconds of twitching, and then—” He paused, clicked his tongue. “—dead, just like that. It’s a little anti-climactic, to be honest.”

Something deep inside of you began to throb. You shrunk into yourself, trying to relieve the pulsing ache, but Suguru mistook your agony for fear. “In controlled portions,” he continued, splaying his open palm over your hip. “The symptoms are much more pronounced. Humans tend to get all feverish and clumsy, but hybrids—”

Again, he paused. His hand drifted lower – first to your thigh, then your cunt. You didn’t realize you were dripping until his cold fingertips skirted over your slit, gathering up the slick already staining the inside of your thighs.

“Hybrids go into heat.”

A cold wave of dread washed over you, and Suguru’s smile widened.

“…heat?”

“Heat, little rabbit.”

His hand lingered on your pussy, two of his massive fingers splitting apart your lips and making room for his tongue to lap gingerly over your entrance. The sensation was strange – not good and not bad, a little ticklish – but your hips bucked as it flickered over your clit. You knew better than to get so close to a snake’s mouth, but you couldn’t seem to move, to think about anything but getting closer, closer to anything that could touch and poke and lick you. “Is heat—” You started, only to be cut off by a cracked whimper as the throbbing in your core intensified. “Is it supposed to hurt?”

“Only for a while.” His deep voice reverberated against your cunt, and you couldn’t stop yourself; attempting to rock your hips against his mouth with a high-pitched whine. It was embarrassing to be so needy, so desperate, but Suguru didn’t seem to mind, only ghosting his lips over the inside of your thigh as he pushed you back down. “But, you’ll need a mate to help you through it. Do you want a mate?”

“Y-Yes! Mate!” You’d never felt this empty, before. It was a little like hunger, but not as jagged, not as desolate. It was more of an absence than anything more tangible; a total and complete vacancy that had to be filled. You tried to roll onto your stomach, to scramble onto your hands and knees and present yourself, but Suguru held you in place with minimal effort. Your protest came in the form of a drawn-out whine, a waving sound Suguru mocked with a low coo and an airy laugh. “Please, please, it hurts, Suguru, I can’t— I need—”

“You need cock,” he finished, his tone one of pure, undeniable satisfaction. With a sigh, he picked himself up, straightening his back and towering above you. You felt saliva pool at the bottom of your mouth as the junction between his upper body and his tail came into view – pale skin slowly giving way to ebony scales, the sculpted muscle of his chest meeting the plated armor below his hips. His hand fell away from you, but you couldn’t mourn the loss of contact, not when your attention was so fixated on the thin, almost invisible slit just below his pubic bone. His fingertips slipped shallowly inside of it, and his gaze shifted back to you. “Come, little bunny. I think you’ve earned another treat.”

The encouragement was appreciated, but unnecessary. You were already crawling towards him, your limbs uncooperative and your movements jolting but your resolve absolute. There was still a throbbing emptiness inside of you, getting worse and more demanding with each neglectful second, but all you could think about was settling onto your knees in front of Suguru and drooling at the sight of his fluttering slit. You weren’t sure what to do, whether to use your hands or your mouth, but Suguru didn’t leave much time for indecision. His free hand found its way to the back of your head, nudging you forward until your mouth was pressed against his slit, just starting to leak thick trails of translucent slick over his dark scales. Your tongue darted past your lips hesitantly, at first, but your trepidation didn’t last very long. It couldn’t, not when you had a hollow pit inside of you still begging to be filled.

Suguru’s fingers carded through your hair as you lapped and sucked at his slit. The taste was mildly acidic, but surprisingly sweet – your eyes quickly falling shut as you sank into a pattern of wet sounds and strange textures and point claws grazing over your scalp, scratching at your ears. Throaty moans (the loudest noise you would ever hear Suguru make, in hindsight) and mumbled praise trickled past his lips as you worked, letting you know that he liked the way you were curling your tongue, that the spongy spot you could just barely reach inside of him was particularly sensitive. It wasn’t long before a mix of your saliva and his arousal dripped past the corners of your mouth, before the end of his tail was lashing violently within the confines of his nest. Maybe Suguru was in heat, too. You hoped he was. You didn’t want to be the only one in so much pain.

You felt the tapered tip of something smooth and stiff against your tongue, and Suguru buckled forward, a ragged gasp tearing past his lips as he took your head in both hands and pressed you flush against his abdomen. Confused and panicked, you tried to pull away, but his grip was iron-clad and it was all you could do to whimper, to sit there helplessly while something filled your mouth – hard and ridged and hot enough to burn. Cock, the pulsing in your core filled in, but it couldn’t be. Suguru had made it sound like something you needed, something you were supposed to want, but you didn’t like the way the blunt head prodded at the back of your throat, the way the ridged underside ground against your tongue. For the first time since he’d caught you, your instincts agreed with your better judgement, both urging you to get away, to run, to put distance between yourself and this newfound threat.

Your pussy, though, couldn’t seem to do anything but chant mate, mate, mate.

You could feel something else, too – not in your mouth, but pressing into your chin, your throat. Reflexively, your hands shot up, wrapping around the thick intruder, and this time, Suguru let go of you entirely, biting back a half-choked groan as he pushed you away, leaving you sprawled out and alone in the center of his nest. The hollowness inside of you was nearly unbearable, and rubbing your thighs together only seemed to make it worse. You tried to look to Suguru, to ask him to do something, but instead, your eyes caught on the long, pale appendage pressed into his lower stomach. His cock. Or, his cocks, you guessed.

You hadn’t expected there to be two of them.

You hadn’t expected them to be so big, either. Even at a distance, it was clear they weren’t meant for a rabbit. Just one would’ve been more than you could handle – as long as your forearm, as thick as your wrist, the end tapered to a steep point but the base absolutely massive before they disappeared into his slit. The color was strange, too – the tip flushed a dull pink while the base was nearly as dark as his scales, creating an ombre that might’ve been pretty, if you weren’t so terrified. You couldn’t see any veins, but both were sculpted with pronounced, perfectly spaced ridges. You couldn’t imagine having something like that inside of you, but you couldn’t imagine not having anything inside of you, either.

You couldn’t be sure how long you spent staring up at him, trying to wrap your head around his size, trying to decide if you’d rather be torn apart by his cock or your own increasingly demanding needs. In the end, it wasn’t really your choice to make. His eyes darted from your clenched thighs to your heaving chest to yours, wide and watery, and a grin found its way back to his lips. For some reason, his smile wasn’t as comforting as it’d been, the first time you saw it. “I’m sorry, little rabbit. Did I startle you?” The tenderness in his voice was almost cloying. You didn’t move, didn’t respond, but he didn’t seem to need you to. “I didn’t mean to. Why don’t you spread your legs nice n’ wide for me, and I’ll make it up to you?”

Your gaze fell back to his cocks. One of his fists had wrapped around both, pumping idly while he stood above you. “Are those supposed to…?” You trailed off, shrinking into yourself. Suguru hummed, and you took it as confirmation. “But you’ll only use one, right? I don’t think I can— I mean, it won’t fit if you—”

“Really? I could’ve sworn you were begging to be fucked properly just a few minutes ago.” You stiffened, but he only laughed. “Fine, fine. If that’s what you think you want, I’ll only use one.”

You didn’t think you could trust him, but you could feel yourself getting hot, again, a haze forming over your mind. You could leave when he was finished, you figured, even if you weren’t entirely sure how to get out of his nest, or where to go once you’d escaped back into the greenhouse. After you got over your— your heat.

Hesitantly, you started to listen to the negging mantra still playing in the back of your mind, to obey the near-deafening voice in the back of your head urging you to get on your hands and knees and make him fuck you, but Suguru must’ve decided you weren’t moving fast enough. His tail shifted underneath you, a thick coil catching your side and leaving you bent over one of the thicker lengths, your stomach pressed into his cool scales and your feet barely able to reach the tangled roots of his nest. You scrambled for purchase, but Suguru was there to steady you – his hands finding your hips, his cocks pressing into your ass. The calloused pads of his fingertips pressed into your waist as he aligned one of his cocks – the upper one, you thought, just a little thicker than its twin – with your entrance. He was kind enough to give you a long, slow second to breathe before his hips rutted forward and he inside of you.

Immediately, it felt wrong.

You’d been right when you decided he was too big for you. He was only half-sheathed, and yet, the tip of his cock pressed into the floor of your cervix, the head of his cock alone enough to stretch your pussy as far as it could go. Thankfully, he didn’t try to force himself deeper, but feeling the smooth ridges of rub against the walls of your pussy as he pulled back wasn’t much better. Still, your cunt clenched around him eagerly, doing its best to suck him in despite your physical limitations. Suguru, of course, seemed more than happy to indulge you. His thrusts were slow and lethargic, as gentle as they could’ve been but still forceful enough to leave you pinned to the curve of his tail. You weren’t in control of your body, anymore. As he rolled his hips against your ass, you ground back against him, your greedy cunt never warm enough, never wet enough, never full enough. You tried to dig your blunt claws into his tail, to ground yourself, but it was a futile effort; a limping dear attempting to evade a wolf who’d already tasted its blood. Suguru’s only response was a stifled groan, a new roughness to the way he fucked into you. You felt his chest against your back as he bent at the waist, draping himself over you, his dark hair falling from his shoulder and replacing chunks of your vision with a curtain of thick, endless black. It didn’t matter. A fresh wave of tears would’ve left you just as helpless, not that Suguru seemed to mind the way you sniffled and sobbed between moans.

“They say— fuck, you know what they say about rabbits, don’t you, bunny?” His voice was barely audible, but it seemed to echo on and on and on in your overly sensitive ears. His cock ground against something softened and vulnerable inside of you and your back arched, your pussy clenching impossibly tighter around him. “That’s it,” Suguru encouraged, as you tried to pry yourself away from his freezing tail and chase the gentle warmth of his chest. “They say bunnies make the best sluts. Knock them up once, and they’ll never stop begging for it.”

Kits. A strong mate. A safe nest. The thought alone had you crying out for nothing, your convulsions growing that much more erratic, and Suguru chuckled in-turn. “Like that? Want me to make you into my little mate-whore?”

“Want it, please, w-want it so bad.” It was all you could do to force yourself to speak, to spit something out through the daze of lust and exhaustion and total, unrelenting fullness. You’d never been more sure of anything than you were in that moment, never knew something as deeply as you knew that you wanted Suguru’s kits inside of you. “Please, wanna be you mate, wanna—Suguru—!”

One more thrust, one more scape of his sleek scales against your clit, and you were coming undone around his cock in jolting, erratic convulsions. Suguru let out a ragged grunt and straightened his back, but the distance was short-lived. Strong arms snaked under your knees, spreading your legs and hauling you up to his height. Your back remained pressed against his chest as he pulled out of you entirely and slammed back in. Even through the overstimulation, the wrongness hit you immediately. His cock was too big, too thick, and—

And he was inside of you.

Completely inside of you.

You forced yourself to open your eyes, letting your head fall forward limply. The shock was minimal, but still devastating – both of Suguru’s cocks buried inside of you to their pitch-black bases, their outlines just barely visible against the plush flesh of your lower stomach. “You—You promised you wouldn’t—”

His face was buried in the dip of your shoulder, his lips parted as panted against you. You felt his teeth catch on your skin before sinking into you, had time to process the pure heat of his venom seeping into your veins. Instantly, anything you might’ve said died on your tongue, your mind going utterly, entirely blank save for a single thought: mate.

Your mouth fell open, your thighs spreading that much farther. Suguru pressed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss into the injection site, then pulled away, grinning wildly. “A few drops, and you’ll want everything I have to give you,” he muttered. “That’s better, isn’t it, bunny?”

Much better. You could feel something swelling at the base of his cock, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge anything other than the utter bliss as a small, round shape was milked up the length of his cock and emptied into your core. Kits, you thought, and did your best to settle onto his twin cocks, to hold still as another egg was forced through your tight pussy. You stopped trying to count after the fourth – giving in completely to the shuddering, splintering euphoria every new member of your little family brought you. By the time the final egg was safe and snug inside of you, you were limp, twitching, and so full, it was hard to imagine ever feeling empty again.

As the last aftershocks started to fade, Suguru sucked in a stilted gasp and pulled you flush against his chest. You felt his second cock twitch once, then twice inside of you before something warm and thick flooded into your pussy. You whined miserably as he pulled out of you, but he didn’t stay gone for very long. Your pliable body was turned around in his arms, his cocks slid back into your leaking cunt as he carefully lowered himself onto the floor of his nest – your body laid on top of his. You strung your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his chest, closing your eyes and giving in to your well-earned exhaustion.

You lasted just long enough to hear him mutter something about mates and clutches before your consciousness faded entirely and your mind went mercifully, blissfully silent.

~

Hours later, you woke up to the sound of a low, long whistle. “Really did a number on the poor thing, huh, Suguru?”

It took you a second to blink your eyes open, to raise your head and glance toward the man standing at the top of the ladder that led to Suguru’s nest, and another to recognize him as Suguru’s owner. His white hair was in a state of disarray, his eyes hidden behind circles of tinted glass, and for some reason, he was looking at you. You shrunk further into Suguru, but he only laughed – the noise loud and piercing to your foggy senses.

Suguru’s cocks were no longer inside of you, the flushed tips just barely visible at the base of his slit. You were still on his chest, and his arms were wrapped around your waist, his hold loose but possessive. There was a small bump over your lower stomach, and you weren’t sure whether to grimace or beam at the feeling of Suguru’s eggs shifting inside of you with every little movement. He was already awake – had been for some time, judging by the unimpressed scowl pressed into his lips. Something sharp and icy lodged itself into your chest, but his glare was directed towards his owner, not you, and the very tip of his tail curled around your ankle protectively as his owner stepped into his nest.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to walk into a serpent’s den?”

“I don’t think it counts if I own the den.” He straddled the bulk of Suguru’s tail, then gestured to you. “Turn the pretty baby around. I wanna see the damage.”

You shook your head vehemently, clinging to Suguru’s neck, but his own response was an exasperated sigh, a fleeting hiss to your cheek as he flipped you over; leaving you slayed across his chest and exposed to his owner’s prying gaze. “Five minutes,” he said, as his owner shrugged the waistband of his pants down just far enough to free his cock, already half-hard, already enough to send a bolt of pure dread from your heart to the pit of your stomach. “I don’t want your scent on my mate.”

You opened your mouth, ready to whine that you were sore, that you were tired, that you didn’t want anyone but Suguru and your kits inside of you, but the words withered into nothing on your tongue as his owner eased himself into your dripping pussy, as Suguru caught you by the chin and pulled you into a shallow, lingering kiss – the points of his fangs just barely scraping over your bottom lip. Looking back on it, it had been silly to ever worry that he’d eat you.

You should’ve been worried that he wouldn’t.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #hybrid au #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #jjk imagines #yandere geto suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #yanderecore #yancore

[gojorgeous]

"sure thing"

pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k

“Who?!” 

No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said. 

“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.

“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind. 

“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers. 

You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.” 

Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path. 

“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back. 

“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket. 

He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.” 

Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?” 

He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”

You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t. 

Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s. 

“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?” 

Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you. 

“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying. 

“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong. 

~

It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches. 

You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment. 

You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.

It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you. 

You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike. 

You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now. 

You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.

You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him. 

The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.

The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside. 

You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.

You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it. 

You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet. 

You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face. 

“Hey, Dean,” you call.

He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease. 

“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo. 

Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night. 

“Yeah. Long day at work.” 

A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?” 

You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.” 

You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you. 

“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there. 

Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.” 

His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?” 

You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”

There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.” 

You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life. 

You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight. 

The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.

You’re shocked when it’s the other way around. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder. 

Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines. 

You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs. 

You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.” 

His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool. 

“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone. 

He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride. 

You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention. 

“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish? 

You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman. 

You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself. 

“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive. 

His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?” 

His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.” 

Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps. 

“You’re a sorcerer,” he says. 

You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet. 

You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.” 

A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?” 

You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?” 

You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like. 

He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then… 

“So, what’s your technique” 

You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual. 

“Bet I could find out.” 

That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.” 

He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…” 

You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.” 

You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks. 

“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job… 

You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.” 

His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?” 

Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth. 

“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing. 

You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?” 

Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal. 

“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.

He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.” 

The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to. 

When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”

You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit. 

Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now. 

He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.

He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone. 

You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid. 

You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.

“That was Versace,” he whines. 

You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle. 

“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans. 

He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever. 

A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.

Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles. 

You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to. 

You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs. 

Now. Now, while he’s not looking.

You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now. 

You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please… 

You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land. 

Fuck. 

He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework. 

“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly. 

This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight. 

You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it. 

You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better. 

He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?” 

You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over. 

You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.” 

He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls. 

His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.” 

You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see. 

“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs. 

Your lips part. “You knew?” 

That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?” 

Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him. 

But you have one thing on him. 

“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”

There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.” 

You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.” 

His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.” 

You freeze. He notices. 

He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?” 

Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation. 

“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.” 

Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo. 

“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?” 

Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced. 

His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display. 

“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin. 

You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.

His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes. 

“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?” 

You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree. 

“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…” 

He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides. 

“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone. 

There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again. 

“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.” 

He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.” 

You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes. 

He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased. 

He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.

Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.

His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.

“I think you like this, gorgeous.” 

Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.” 

He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”

He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue. 

You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right. 

Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you. 

“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.

“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault. 

“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.

God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. 

You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.

Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.

It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away. 

He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?” 

Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you

You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone. 

“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.

A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.

“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick. 

“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole. 

He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out. 

“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.” 

He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages. 

You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.

“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.” 

You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut. 

Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.” 

You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.

A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.” 

His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you. 

A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth. 

“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him. 

He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.” 

His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same. 

“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.

“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.

You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant. 

You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs. 

You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind. 

“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”

You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”

His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be. 

You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you. 

“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death. 

“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest. 

He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?” 

You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.” 

He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?” 

You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe. 

You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”

You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.” 

His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?” 

You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.

There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been. 

“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free. 

“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position. 

He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”

You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind. 

“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you. 

He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.” 

There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 

He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”

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#bree’s fics #jjk #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk gojou #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojou #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo saturo #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen #tw: organized crime #tw: attempted murder

[luveline]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel assumes you're mad when you stop initiating kisses and tries to get back on your good side —featuring grumpy but lovelorn miguel and his head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. requested here. fem!reader, 3k.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Gàn de piàoliang!" cheers the puppy at the bottom of your screen. Well done.

You smile at him and slide your finger across a lilac candy to make another three-match. 

The music playing from your phone quietens as a text lines the top of the screen. You click it as soon as you recognise the contact picture beside it, your handsome Miguel with a filter over his face that paints rosy pink hearts over his high cheeks. 

Finished. his text says. 

Miguel is a man of little words. Over the phone he talks even less, easier to draw blood from stone than harness a conversation with him that isn't in person. His text demarcates the wall of messages you sent him earlier, not wanting for a reply but bursting to tell him things as they happened. 

You put your phone down carefully. It's one of your most treasured possessions, shimmering and high tech, you can fold it down the middle to fit in your little spider suit pockets, though the amount of charms and beads hanging from it now impedes that particular functionality.

Miguel gave it to you as a gift without any fanfare around the time you started staying in his apartment in the society, and while your bunking with him was supposed to be temporary, the phone is for keeps. You've decorated it accordingly.

The best charm is a beaded translucent jellyfish, and not solely because it's beautiful: Miguel has a matching one that he showcases shamelessly. 

You rush into his neat bathroom and lean heavily on the counter, propping your hand on the faucet to hold your weight as you assess your reflection in the mirror. When you turn your face, your nose shines in the light. 

You decide it's best to wash up. Miguel will be back soon enough. 

You get distracted by skincare, toner pads resting on your cheeks when you hear the door opening. A waste to take them off prematurely, you pat them flat to your skin and meet Miguel in his bedroom half ready. 

"I can see why you didn't text me back," he says, giving you a quick glance from the corner of his eye as he walks past the bed and your waiting phone. He beelines for the kitchenette and disappears around the corner. "What do they do, the squares?" 

"They're calming, I think," you say, following his path from the bathroom to the small kitchen. 

His apartment is big but not huge. The main room is his bedroom, with enough space for a couch and a TV he never uses that comes out of the wall. To the right is a utility closet for storage and a walk-in wardrobe, and to the left lies the kitchen and the bathroom. It takes you all of ten seconds to be by his side. 

Bottles rattle as Miguel opens the fridge. He grabs sparkling water for himself and a fruit tea concoction for you. You hadn't followed him for that, but you accept it anyway. 

He looks tired. Tilting his head back to drink, you eye the stiff set to his shoulders and the way he rolls his arm out, orchestrating an offer for a massage in your head. 

Miguel squints at you. "What?" 

"What?" you ask back. 

He doesn't explain. He screws the lid back on to his water and closes the fridge. 

With his empty hand, Miguel reaches for your face. You stay very still in anticipation of his touch, imagining how he might take your cheek in his hand and pull you close, or perhaps curl thick, long fingers behind your neck and guide your chin up. He can be rough in odd ways, as though he's unaware of his strength. 

"It's slimy," he says in disgust, pulling a toner pad from your left cheek. 

"It's going to make my skin clearer." 

"There's nothing wrong with your skin." True or not, you know it's Miguel's way of being sweet. He takes the second toner pad too, tossing them in the trash with a huff. "That's better. You look normal. Or, as normal as possible." 

"Jerk!" you say through a smile, thinking now's the moment. 

But Miguel hasn't peeled away your skincare to kiss you. He pats a spot of dampness on your cheek away with the back of his hand and turns on his heel, gunning for a change of clothes and a shower, if you know him. "Drink your tea. Did you eat? Me preocupo por ti." 

You sigh and trail after him. "I was waiting for you to come back. It's Vietnamese week in the cafeteria, they're making cá kho tộ. Do you like that? It's sweeter than hake." 

"It's fish?" 

"Catfish. Caramelised catfish." You sit down on the bed, flipping your phone open to play your game while he decides. 

That, and to ignore the inkling of doubt blossoming like mould under heat in your chest. An achy sort of worry… 

Does Miguel not want to kiss you? 

"What's the other option? I don't like sweet foods." 

You knew that already. "You could make pasta?" you suggest. 

"You'd love that." 

"Are you teasing me?" 

Miguel pokes his head out of the wardrobe, and with it comes his naked chest. His muscles are insane, lean tanned stretches of cord pulled taut as he grabs a shirt. "I'm making an observation. You like carbs." 

"Everyone likes carbs, Miguel, especially Spiders." 

"I know, but I don't make anyone else dinner." He's definitely flirting now, his voice playful and soft. "I'll make you pasta if you want." 

Why hasn't he kissed you? Offering to make you dinner, smiling at you just as soon as his face has been pulled through his t-shirt. He's acting as affectionate as a man who'd like to kiss you without pulling through. 

Well, maybe you kiss him too much. Come to think of it, you initiate the vast, vast majority of kisses, and you must kiss him twice a day at least. Miguel clearly favours you, but it's possible he isn't interested in as much physicality as you and hasn't had the heart to say. He likes watching vintage movies at night and half the time you're not interested in those. You haven't said a word about it because things between you are new and you like his being happy watching the things he enjoys. Miguel could be doing the same, allowing hugs and kisses he doesn't necessarily want in order to avoid hurting your feelings. 

A favourite phrase of his cuts through your thinking, "¿Alguien en casa?" Anyone home?

"Oh, sorry, were you not getting enough attention?" you ask him, pretending to be more nonchalant than you are as you open the match game on your phone. 

The puppy barks hello. 

"Ah, you're a cómico now." Miguel sits on the bed beside you in sweatpants, reaching across the sheets to give your arm a shake. "I said, I'll make you pasta if you want pasta." 

"I want what you want," you say honestly. 

He stares at you. You're not sure what he's confused about. "Alright. Did you want it now?" he asks. 

"Yes, serf," you say, laughing when he knocks your phone out of your hand and stands in a dramatised annoyance. 

You play a couple levels of your game to give him space. He's quiet as he washes his hands and gets out the cookware, but he appears curious in the door, rag between his hands. "You're not gonna come and sit with me? I really am your maid." 

Eager for an invitation, you join him in the kitchen. You brace yourself behind you to hop onto the counter and find his hands on your hips, helping you up. 

Miguel meets your eyes as he does, not close but enough to beckon down for a kiss. You think about doing it. He might let you, his straight lashes pointed with his gaze, his eyes a heavy weight where they trace your features unhurried. 

"How come you didn't text me back earlier?" he asks. 

"Oh, I didn't know you were expecting me to. I'm sorry, handsome, I was kind of grody–"

"Grody? I doubt that–" 

"–I figured I'd wash up before you got back." 

"So you were busy?" he asks, returning to the chopping board at the left of the stove. He picks up a glinting-sharp knife. "Not something else?" 

"No, why? Was I supposed to do something today?" 

Miguel begins slicing into a tomato, red skin splitting to reveal greener insides. "No. No, just wondering." 

You lean back against the wall, crossing a leg over your thigh. He's being kind of off. Your first impulse is to try and kiss it better but that directly fights your new theory. Being nice physically is far from your only weapon. 

"Did you have a good day?" you ask, and here's where you'd pull him close or sidle up behind him and twist his hair around your finger. "I was thinking about you a lot. Did the strike mission go okay?" 

"Fine. You didn't come see me, but it was fine." 

You eye him from the corner of your vision. He's still cutting up tomatoes, a pan of olive oil and minced garlic simmering between you. 

"I sent you all those photos," you say. 

One of the Peter's you hang around with got his arm stuck in a window after he said, "Is that a bad idea, do you think? I really wanna try," and Hobie said, "They can't stop you." 

The 'they' being unknown, Hobie was right. No one could stop Peter once he started climbing, but the window could certainly stop him from getting down. You'd sent Miguel pictures of his dangling body up in the atrium like a dark splodge, as well as a blurry photo of your face when you'd accidentally turned the camera. He responded to that one with a heart but the rest he didn't touch. 

"They got him down eventually," you continue, "but I had to stay for moral support! And to feed him popcorn so he didn't starve. Was it peaceful without me?"

"You know I like when you visit me, right?" he asks carefully. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah?" he mimics, waving his hand at you. "Can't deal with you. Get the cream from the fridge." 

You eat dinner as you and Miguel tend to do —you talk your way through it happily, smiling and joking, and he puts extra helpings on your plate when you aren't looking. 

The alien quality of what you're doing rears its head briefly. He's trying to stop the quasi apocalypse. You're willing to help, though you'd been more interested in Miguel and getting to know his enigma than your responsibilities. Weird how love makes you want to be better. 

"What was your course like?" Miguel asks, when the dishes have been set aside for washing and you've showered for the night. 

He's talkative tonight. 

"They taught us how to wield a baton," you say, climbing into his bed with a tired sigh. "One girl was crazy about it. She kind of looked like me…" You yawn, looking for his waist as he settles in the sheets and pillows next to you. "You're lucky I got my claws into you when I did. At least I'm not murderous. Much." 

Miguel covers your hand on his ribs. He squeezes your fingers together gently like he's collecting them under his palm for borrowing. 

"You didn't get your claws in me. I'm not easily led." 

"Course not," you snort. You actually agree with him, but he said it too seriously for bedtime. 

Miguel abandons your hand to pull you in, encouraging your head and upper chest onto his, hand coasting up and down the length of your arm lovingly. Firmly, like a massage, but adoring nonetheless. You languish in his touches and rub your lips, still tingling from spearmint, against the collar of his shirt gently. As indirect a kiss as you can manage, practically sick with longing after a day unkissed. 

"Are you mad at me?" he asks into the quiet.

You pause, fingers with a mind of their own as you take a long strand of hair that curls under his ear between them, combing it flat. "Why, have you done something?" you ask, hiding your confusion with a delighted lilt. 

"I've been trying to work that out." Frustration seeps into his voice, roughened syllables drawn tight, "But you're evasive." 

"I'm evasive," you say softly, tilting your head back to meet his eye. "Miguel, why do you think I'm mad at you? I'm not mad." 

Miguel glares at you. Brows furrowed, an especially formidable downturn to an otherwise pretty mouth, he looks as though he wants to start a fight with you, and as though he doesn't believe it. 

"I'm not mad," you insist, sitting up a little. 

"Then…" 

You scrunch your brows at him. "You've been thinking I was mad at you all day? Why didn't you say something, handsome?" 

He might roll his eyes at your pet name if he weren't knee deep in relief. You didn't know being mad at him was something he'd be sad with, and yet there he is lying beneath you, blowing a big enough exhale to ruffle the hair from his forehead. 

Miguel takes your face into one hand. Your eyelashes flutter against his palm like a shuddering butterfly wing as you lean into his touch, more than happy to offer him whatever relief it is he needs while enjoying in the feeling of being close to him. 

"You haven't kissed me all day," he says quietly. "I thought I must've pissed you off, 'cos you're more piranha than girl sometimes, but you weren't acting any weirder than usual beyond that." 

You roll your eyes and hide your face in his hand. He's kidding around, and his thumb rubs over your skin tenderly to prove it. 

"You're not mad?" he asks again. 

You kiss his palm. You kiss his wrist, happy when he knows the moves like a well practised dance, his fingers sliding behind your ear to steady you as you dip down for a kiss. 

It's a good kiss. Warm mouths vying for one another but trying not to seem desperate, Miguel's hand behind your ear growing harsher as you pull a breath against his lips. You press your hand into his pec too hard. 

"Sorry," you murmur, stealing another fast kiss and pulling away. 

You barely feel how uncomfortably you're skewed, you're that happy. 

"Is there a reason you wouldn't kiss me?" he asks. 

"I'm, like, always the first one to initiate and I kinda got it in my head maybe you didn't want me kissing you that much…" You grin at him. "The whole time you're playing twenty questions with me wishing I'd lay one on you. You know you have a voice for more than yelling at people, right?" 

Miguel gets this look in his eyes then, rolling his jaw a touch at the supposed audacity of what you've said. The tip of his tongue works at his canine tooth, his eyebrows rising as he asks, "Oh, is that how you're talking to me tonight?" 

"How else should I talk to you, Miguel?" 

He doesn't bother with swiftness nor a show of strength as he rolls you onto your back. He settles above you with measured movements, a pleased smirk playing on his lips now. His eyes are dark, pupils wide as dimes.

"With compassion, mi cielo," he says.

"Have some sympathy for me," you implore him, wrapping your arms around his waist. It diffuses the tension, though neither party minds, evidenced by Miguel's easy relaxation and your ecstatic mood. Happiness bubbles up like carbonated bubbles, your chest awake with a fizzing excitement. "You really thought I was mad 'cos I wasn't kissing you?" 

He avoids the question. "You think you're the only one who initiates?" he asks genuinely. 

"Why didn't you kiss me, then? When you came home?" 

"Your face was wet." 

"And after when we were eating dinner?" 

Miguel smiles at you. No sarcasm, no stress. He leans down to kiss you chastely, pulling away to say, "I thought you were definitely mad at that point." 

"A kiss would've made me feel better." 

You realise how quiet your bubble of the world really is for that handful of seconds, Miguel holding himself above you, your hands loose behind the broad stretch of his back. 

"You know you can just ask me, yeah? You don't have to worry and wonder how I'm feeling. I'll tell you how I'm feeling if you want to know." 

"Cariño, I always want to know," he says. 

You breathe out slowly. Miguel takes your face into his hand for another kiss, or so you think —he pinches your cheek. 

"And I always want to kiss you," he says quickly, climbing off of you. 

"Where are you going?" 

"I need a drink." 

A break from sincerity. You don't mind that he needs to walk it off as long as he comes back. You stretch out on your back and cover your face with your hands. 

"People think I'm the weird one," you say into them.

A hand clamps around your ankle and tugs you down. You shriek with startled laughter and climb away from him as he lands on top of you, a cold water bottle held to your bare neck. 

"No!" you laugh. 

Miguel laughs in tandem and presses it further down. 

"I really am going to be mad at you if you don't quit!" You yelp as condensation wets your collar. "Miguel!"

"You're a wimp," he says with a bright smile. 

You push him with some enhanced super strength and manage to get the water bottle off of your neck, but Miguel makes up for any differences in strength with enthusiasm and muscle alike, shoving you down. 

You're laughing and pleading at the same time, "Please, Miguel, stop, it's sooooo cold." 

Miguel laughs, dropping the bottle somewhere above your head, covering the cooled stripe of your skin with his big hand. The sound is warming enough, but you let him sweat for a second, content to be doted on. 

He gives you a once over. "I'll kiss you first more," he promises. 

"Starting now, please, handsome. Mi cielo." 

Miguel groans and digs his arms under your back. You don't fight it as he drags you back to the top of the bed. In fact, you quite enjoy it. You lay back to receive his sorry pecks and his all encompassing hug, forgetting what you'd been worried about one damp crescent moon of a kiss at a time.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!

#miguel and spidergirl reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara scenario #miguel o’hara blurb #miguel o’hara oneshot #spider-man: across the spider-verse #spider-man: across the spider-verse spoilers #spider-man: across the spider-verse fanfiction #across the spider-verse spoilers #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse spoilers #spiderman across the spider-verse spoilers #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfic #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara drabble #miguel ohara scenario

[toruslvt]

HOT BABES IN YOUR AREA

⋆ your broke boyfriend and roommate Toji suggests you both start an onlyfans.

⋆ mdni. +f!reader, obviously filming unprotected sx, groping, taking suggestive pictures, dirty talk, very very dirty talk, praising, squirting, he calls you slut once.

a soft pop was heard from Toji’s back shoulders as he stretched, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired yawn. it'd been a long day in between picking up uncalled fights and betting on races, luckily he managed to make some money, at least enough to cover a few expenses like the bills and a part of the rent of the shitty overpriced apartment you lived in. he didn’t really care though, as long as he got to see your pretty face, Toji would agree to live under a bridge.

after counting the hundreds bills he hummed satisfied, putting them in his pocket while walking through the bustling streets, following the path he knew perfectly. and to his luck, the first thing he finds upon entering your living room is well, you, sitting on the couch looking worn out. why did your cute little face was even cutter all exhausted?

“welcome home” you chime, giving the man a soft smile and slight look as he steps through the door, “how was your day?” the words are mingled with the tap of your fingers on a laptop keyboard, focused and slightly squinted eyes flickering through the bright screen.

Toji smirks at the sound of your voice, walking over the back of the couch where you sit and tilting your head sideways, a bit rougher than intended, but the languid kiss he leaves on your mouth doesn’t let you complain, “shitty” he grins, parting from your mouth with a slight thread of saliva connecting you both, “but that’s life, doll, sometimes we win, sometimes we lose”

“liar” you say with furrowed brows and a knowing look, “where’s the money”

you have always been so good at looking though him, with a deep chuckle he reaches for the pocket of his loose pants, waving the wad of cash in the air before returning it to it's previous place, “any luck?” he asks pointing to your laptop with his chin, curious whether you’d got any luck at searching for a proper paying job.

“mm, nothing new” you mention, the tapping fading as your caught by surprise at the sudden movement of Toji attempting to lay on your lap, not giving a fuck whether he did it on top of the keyboard and ruined your most valuable possession, “hey...!”

ignoring your struggles he speaks, “y’know, there has to be another way to earn money, not like we can live solely from gambling, huh?” he chuckles, he knew he was not stopping with the gambling, “maybe you can come bet with me, maybe we can try something else...”

you raise a brow, looking down at him on your lap “what are you thinking about?”

a slow grin spreading through his face as he licks his teeth once, “you ever heard of onlyfans?”

a choke is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and you really should have grown used to Toji’s boldness by the months you’ve been dating —and currently, living together, “are you serious?”

“c’mon, don’t give me that look” he huffs, teasingly rolling his eyes “we could be earning money while having fun”

you have actually considered the option, and now coming from your boyfriend’s lips sounded even more tempting, specially with the way he not so subtly adjusted his gigantic cock beneath his pants. what was he even thinking of.

you give him a tilted look, urging him into continue with the thought and earning a dark chuckle in return, “we can sell some pictures, y’know” he starts, sitting upright and kneeling with one of your thighs between his, cupping the back of your neck to keep your gaze on his, so close you felt his breathing on your lips, “maybe even stream ourselves fuckin’, n’ charge people too watch. we’d be swimming in money in no time” his voice drops and a devilish gleam lighting up his eyes, “thinkin’ bout it got me hard as fuck”

and with the way his heavy, hot bulge is pressing on your thigh you’re getting so horny too, breathlessly whispering a “yeah, alright” that’s a bit too desperate.

“that’s my girl” he purrs, leaning down to suck your tongue onto his mouth, the sound so lewd your panties get wet in an instant, “need to fuck you hard..., but not yet, babe” voice is thick with lust, in a sudden movement you’re on top of him, straddling his hips while his fingers trail across your stomach, dipping low to brush on the edge of your underwear peaking from above your pants, “gotta show off what we got goin’ on here” as he speaks one hand comes up to slide under your shirt, squeezing a breast slightly rough, "you got nice tits, babe, why don’tcha let me take a pic of them?, with this pretty little body of yours all those perverts will be paying good for more than just a picture”

“you’re turning into quite a businessman” you tease, an attempt of a grin on your face that gets interrupted by a sharp gasp at the rough touch of your lover’s calloused fingertips pinching your nipples, then your shirt is out in the blink of an eye.

one hand grasping your phone and the other slides the cup of your bra down, enough to feel the weight on his palm, “mm, someone’s got a really nice pair” focusing on capturing the swell of your breasts and his tough palm cupping your soft skin, Toji starts snapping the pictures, occasionally flicking your nipples to watch them harden under his touch, “that should be enough” he groans after a while, pulling you down for a kiss and setting your phone into your pocket so both his hands reach for your ass, gently guiding your hips back and forth on his hard cock.

“you’ve got nice tits too, why don’t you let me take pics of them?” you smirk against him, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend before he’s carrying you to the bedroom, placing you in bed while he hoovers your body, deliberately slow peeling off his own shirt with a wide smirk on his lips.

soon your phone gallery is filled with 'thirst traps' as you roll in bed, “these will sell good” you murmur, voice hoarse from the endless teasing as you watch at your small hand wrapped around Toji’s fat cock through the device screen, languidly masturbating him until the flushed mushroom shaped tip drooled precum all over your belly.

Toji has never been as turned on in his entire life, quickly gripping your hips and guiding his length down to gently tap your lower abdomen, mimicking a thrust that reaches your belly button, “fuck..” his breathing comes unsteady, each thrust drawing more precum, and honestly it was extremely surprising for him to be so worked up without fucking your cunt.

it’s not a surprise your account grows so much and so sudden, the sexual tension and undeniable chemistry present in every post, and just as expected, what started with merely pictures turned into videos; a better quality camera perched on a side of the bed where the sight of your dripping pussy swallowing Toji’s cock was on prime sight, sinking and raising with practiced ease, “f-fuck, Toji” you mewl, rolling your hips on his pelvis before continuing to bounce hard with the help of his hands squeezing your ass. each gasp and slap only encouraging you further, so ready to fill your tight walls with a nice creampie.

your bank account gets as filled as your closet, with Toji delving into the pleasure of buying you slutty skirts and panties to rip during live streams, although his favorite one is a cream, pleated skirt, one that barely covers your ass, but who cares when that’s what the public wants.

“it’s so difficult not to fuck you right now” Toji grunts staring at your outfit a bit too intensely, opting instead to cup your cheeks roughly and kissing you sloppily, plunging his tongue into your willing mouth, just for a good couple of minutes to leave you hot and bothered.

a bit embarrassing at first, specially considering one of your boyfriend’s favorite positions to fuck you in was sitting on a chair in front of the desk with your streaming setup, camera pointing directly at your barely covered ass that slapped and jiggled lewdly with each forceful pull of Toji’s hands on your waist, fucking you on his throbbing cock.

“oh yeah, babe, such a good fuckin’ girl, taking every inch of my cock” he coos against your ear, looking straight into the camera that perfectly captures the way your lips hungrily grip his cock, juices splattering around with each smack of his balls on your ass.

“Toji, toji, toji!” is all you can moan, turning into a broken sob as you’re unable to move or squirm, just beg and take cock, “t’s so deep, oh god, T-toji slow down”

but he just snarls in return, the chime of incoming tips only fueling his stamina, “your pussy is begging for it, doll, tightening around my cock, ah shit—, so creamy and juicy, my pretty little cock hungry slut”

his thrusting becomes more frantic, his shaft plunging into the depths of your cunt, heavy and full balls slapping your ass until it got sore.

“m’cumming, ngh, o-oh fuck,... toji, please!” with a sudden, and extra rough thrust aimed at your g-spot you squirt loudly, nails digging into his broad shoulders as your juices splatter around, most likely staining the camera lens with a couple drops by the sound of the stream tips increasing, you didn’t care though, focused on not passing out as you scream and tits rub on your boyfriend’s chest, adding into the sensation, yet your money lust driven lover doesn’t stop, pulling your hands back against your back for his to hold, bouncing you on his cock solely from the grip of one of his hands and his hips bucking up widely.

he hums, biting down on his tongue at the tightening of his balls from the sensation of your walls milking his cock, sucking him deeper with each thrust into your needy, cumming core, so close to filling your womb with his own cum “making a mess on my cock, your juices are dripping everywhere, was it that good?” you can’t reply, obviously, “i’m so close, darling, ready to fill your messy cunt with my seed”

#𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #anime smut #smut #x reader #x reader smut

[littleredwolf]

Sinful Sighs

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky and Y/N are like a couple of horny teenagers after completing a mission where feelings were revealed - continuation of ‘Hungry Eyes’.  

Warnings: 18+ content - MINORS DNI- blowjob, fingering, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, sex with protection, cursing - just pure smut for the sake of it. 

Words: 1,303

A/N: Okay so part 2 came along sooner than expected - I am a woman with needs and apparently writing saucy fanfiction is how I fulfil them these days! Please forgive any mistakes/cringe moments - this is my first time writing full on smut and boy, was it a struggle!

--

READ PART ONE [HERE]

The Quinjet had barely touched the tarmac before you and Bucky were barreling down its ramp and making your way into the compound, hands entwined as you marched towards the living quarters. 

“For the love of God, turn off your comms before you get to your room!” Sam called after you, prompting you to rip out your earpieces and leave them on a side table as you passed through the lounge. 

You couldn’t unlock your door quick enough, and you squealed excitedly when Bucky playfully slapped your ass and shoved you through it once you’d finally got it open.

His mouth was on yours in seconds, hands on your waist as he guided you backwards. You dropped onto the edge of the bed when you felt the mattress pressing against the back of your knees, looking up at the super soldier through lust-filled eyes as you began to undo his belt. He caressed your cheek with his flesh hand, his thumb brushing against your swollen lips as he watched you, groaning when you opened your mouth and began to suck on it - a taster of what was to come. His vibranium hand came up to clasp your hair, making you gasp in delight as he gently pulled on it to make you look up at him. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he admitted, his confession sending a bolt of electricity straight to your core. 

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” you purred as you finished unbuttoning his pants and began to remove them along with his underwear, licking your lips as your eyes settled on his throbbing erection. 

“And why’s that, doll?” He asked, indulging his curiosity. 

“So that I could have done this a long time ago,” you said, wrapping your hand around his cock and taking his full length into your mouth. 

Bucky inhaled sharply and tightened his grip on your hair, eliciting a moan from you that vibrated around his cock and caused him to buck his hips towards you. Your eyes watered as he hit the back of your throat, but you held steady and continued to work him into a frenzy, licking and sucking and drawing the most delicious sounds from him. 

He reluctantly pulled you away after a few minutes, and you whined at the loss of contact. 

“Lay back,” he ordered, taking off his shirt and watching you like a predator stalking its prey as you followed his instructions. He dropped to his knees once you were in position, and you sucked in a breath as he began a trail of kisses that started from the inside of your ankle and led up to your inner thigh. 

Lifting the skirt of your dress, he took a moment to admire your underwear before hooking his fingers in the waistband and sliding them down, tossing them aside and continuing his path of kisses. 

You whimpered as he reached your slick folds, and you felt him smile wickedly against them before sucking your clit into his mouth. Your hands flew to his hair, nails raking along his scalp as you rolled your hips to meet him, soft moans passing your lips that spurred him on. 

Gripping your hip and holding you in place with his vibranium hand, Bucky added his flesh hand to the assault on your pussy, sliding a finger inside while his thumb circled your clit alongside his tongue. 

“Fuck,” you gasped as his finger curled up and rubbed against your sweet spot, speeding up your impending orgasm. 

“That’s it, doll,” Bucky groaned, his breath ghosting over your pussy and adding to the sweet sensations. “Come for me.” 

It was all the encouragement you needed and within seconds your pussy was squeezing around his fingers, back arching as your moans filled the room. 

“Good girl,” Bucky praised once you were finished, removing himself from between your legs and licking your juices from his fingers as he climbed onto the bed. “Sweet as a peach.” 

The lewd act made you bite your lip, and at Bucky’s command you moved up the bed to lay back against the pillows, spreading your legs and allowing him to position himself between them. He kissed you deeply, needily, and you eagerly parted your lips for him when he teased them with that skillful tongue of his, drawing more moans from you as he trailed more sloppy kisses along your jawline and neck. Your hands returned to his hair as you thrust your hips up to meet his cock, aching to have him inside you. 

“Please, Buck. I need you,” you whimpered, looking up at him with pleading eyes. A look of uncertainty crossed his face as he hesitated a moment, and you didn’t need the ability to read minds to know what he was thinking. 

Reaching over to your nightstand, you opened the drawer and pulled out a condom, smiling reassuringly up at him as you ripped it open and reached down to roll it over his cock. He groaned at your touch, and when you were done he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“If you change your mind about this, let me know and I’ll stop,” he whispered, and you cupped his face to make him look at you. 

“Not gonna happen,” you replied. 

It was all the reassurance he needed, and with a searing kiss he lined himself up at your entrance and slid into you. You gasped as he slowly pushed himself all the way in, filling you completely, and he paused only a moment for you to get accustomed to the feeling before pulling away and repeating the motion. 

Your soft moans turned to heavy pants as Bucky began to move faster, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him closer with each thrust while his mouth set your skin ablaze with every kiss to your neck, face and chest. 

You squeaked in surprise when he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, hooking your legs over his shoulders so that he could go deeper, and waves of ecstasy rolled over you as he brought you to the brink over and over again, the room filling with your exclamations of pleasure and encouragement for him to keep going. 

You lost count of how many times you came while Bucky fucked you, your pussy squeezing his cock and drawing the most explicit sounds from him. It didn’t take long for him to reach his own release, and his cries of pleasure joined yours as you both climaxed for the last time.  

You whined at the loss of contact when he pulled out to dispose of the condom, but he was back by your side in a matter of seconds, pulling you into his tight embrace and whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he planted soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. 

“I can’t believe we haven’t done that sooner,” he murmured, his breath against your ear giving you goosebumps. “You’re fucking amazing.” 

Your cheeks reddened and you laid your head on his chest to hide the fact. 

“Says you,” you scoffed, and now it was his turn to blush. “At least now we know, we can make up for lost time,” you mused, and he hummed in agreement, the rumbling of his chest vibrating against your ear. 

“Well, the sooner we get started, the better,” he stated, and you lifted your head to look at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Really!? Already!?” 

“Perks of being a super soldier, doll,” he smirked, and you giggled as he nudged himself into you to show his returning hard on. 

“FRIDAY - add condoms to the shopping list,” you announced to the AI as you reached over and pulled another from the nightstand. You had a full box in there, but something told you they wouldn’t last long. 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #the winter soldier #fatws #falcon and the winter soldier #avengers #sebastian stan #bucky barnes smut #spicy content

[landosjpg]

lovestruck | ln

the one where you end up in your friend’s bed after a night out.

lando norris x verstappen!reader

word count: ~2.8k

warnings: friends to lovers, reader drives for f1a (not really relevant to the story but it’s mentioned), smut MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!, fluff

note: based on this request. feel free to send more requests if you have them, i’ll try to go through all of them this week’!

"just one minute!" you yelled when you heard your brother knocking on you hotel room’s door for the tenth time in less than a minute.

"you said that one minute ago!" he called back from outside your room.

rolling your eyes, you finished putting your earrings on with a huff and walked to the door only to be met with the irritating smile of your brother.

"you’re extremely annoying," you mumbled, earning a laugh from him.

"and we’re gonna be extremely late because of you," max said as you two started walking to the elevator side by side.

and he was right. the party had already started when you two got in the cab max had called, and the traffic would make it impossible to arrive at a somewhat-decent time.

it was the miami grand prix, and after an exhausting weekend what you wanted as soon as you got back to your hotel was to take a long bubble bath. you weren’t really in the mood for a party, but max had insisted in taking you out to celebrate.

in the end, you had just won your first race as an F1 Academy driver.

just as your brother, you had been into racing since you were little. only your paths had been slightly different, and sadly you were a few categories behind him, but he always made sure to encourage you that you would make it one day.

it wasn’t easy, being max’s sister. the constant comparison between you two and the pressure that came from being a world’s champion’s sister making you question your worth at times.

"lando’s already there," max interrupted the silence that had settled in the cab, nudging your ribs with that infuriating smirk of his again.

"i don’t like lando," you complained, rolling your eyes once more.

you had known lando for years, and while you two were just friends, max was absolutely convinced that you were head over heels for him.

it didn’t matter how many times you denied it, he would tease you until your cheeks were burning red. before he could make any remarks on how your voice got a little more high-pitched when talking to lando or how you always were nicer when he was around, you covered his mouth with your hand, hoping that would be enough to keep him quiet for the rest of the car ride. you loved your brother, but it was a fact that he could get quite irritating.

small talk was made for the forty minutes that you were in the backseat of the car, and then you found yourself startled by the flashing lights and the loud music of the club where you were meeting some of your friends.

your girl friends welcomed you with a drink and you didn’t even had time to say hello to lando, who your brother had quickly found, before they were dragging you to the dance floor.

you were never a big fan of parties, alcohol making you more moody than cheering you up. so only a couple of hours later, you made up an excuse so you could go sit by yourself in one of the lounge’s couches for a while without having your friends tell you how boring you were at parties.

you had closed your eyes for a few seconds when you felt the weight of someone sitting down next to you in the plush couch, and the familiar "hey" that followed made you flutter your eyes open, an unconscious smile on your lips.

"not having a good time?" lando asked, looking at you with raised eyebrows and an amused expression. he knew how much you hated those settings.

"not really," a sigh left your lips and you shrugged. "max insisted, i wanted to stay in tonight. and my feet are killing me."

"try not to be the life of the party for once, will you?" he mocked you, trapping his lower lip between his teeth to prevent himself from smiling at his own joke. his words earned him a playful punch on his arm and you pouted.

you weren’t really sure how it happened, but in between playful teasing and giggles, he had shifted a little closer to you and you were resting your head on his shoulder, eyes closed as you daydreamed about getting under your bed covers and doing nothing but sleep for the next few days.

"y/n," lando softly called, making you open your eyes and look at him, a little confused. you had been silent for the past ten minutes, just enjoying each other’s company. "i called you a cab, you should get back to your hotel."

"i can’t," you quickly answered.

it wasn’t that you didn’t want to get back already, you just wanted to spend a little more time with him. lando’s eyebrows furrowed in conclusion, pushing you to explain why.

"max has the card to my room." that was a lie, but lando knew that finding max in the crowded club was always nearly impossible.

"it’s already waiting outside," he said, not questioning your silly excuse. maybe you were a better liar than you thought.

for what felt like forever, you stares into his eyes, his gaze locked in yours as he tried to find a solution other than cancelling the ride.

"you can spend the night with me," he suggested, and quickly added, as if trying to rub it off: "you were just falling asleep on my shoulder, you need rest."

a smile creeped up to your lips, not only at his suggestion but also at the fact that he cared about you, and so you couldn’t do anything but nod.

he guided you outside, one of his hands in the small of your back as you moved through the mass of people finding the exit, and once you spotted your ride, he opened the door for you and helped you get in.

it felt oddly domestic, despite this being the first time you two were together for more than five minutes without your brother being around.

anticipation grew inside you as the soft jazz music playing from the radio filled the car’s silence and in no time you were already in the elevator to lando’s room, his hotel much closer than yours was.

you watched as he opened the door, noticing how his hands were slightly shaky before he stepped to the side and let you enter the suite.

"i’ll take the couch," he announced when closing the door after himself as he watched you plop down on the mattress of the bed, exhausted.

you closed your eyes for a few seconds, thinking about how you could get him to sleep next to you as you heard him moving around, likely getting the couch ready for the night.

when his movements stopped, you looked to where he was, finding him just looking down at his phone from where he was sitting.

with a deep breath, you sat up and took your heels off, finally feeling your feet when you stoop up to take your dress off. you noticed one of lando’s shirts waiting for you at the feet of the bed, the corners of your lips going up at the sweet gesture.

"lando," you softly called his name, making him look up at you. "can you..?" you added, turning around and pointing at the zipper of your dress.

he hummed and walked closer to you, one of his hands moving your hair to the side gently, his fingertips brushing against your hot skin. you felt his breath on your neck as he found the zipper and slowly pulled it down, an unsteady sigh leaving his lips.

none of you moved for a few seconds, his hands finding home at each side of your hips, and when you turned to look at him your faces were only inches apart.

"you look gorgeous tonight," he whispered, his gaze falling to your lips as your arms circled his neck.

maybe it was the small amount of alcohol in your system that made you act, or maybe it was all the years you had dreamed about that moment. but somewhere, you found the courage to pull him closer and attach your lips to his in a soft kiss that he was quick to reciprocate.

his tongue traced your lower lip, asking for permission to deepen the kiss that you happily granted by slightly parting your lips. slowly, he guided you to the edge of the bed again, helping you lie down and hovering over you as your fingers entangled with his curls.

the kiss turned sloppy as you started getting rid of each other’s clothes and your breaths got heavier, sweet nothings exchanged with every item that got discarded on the floor.

"are you sure you want this?" he interrupted, pulling back to look at you.

a giggle left your lips and you nodded before answering: "a little bit late to ask, don’t you think?"

"i have to make sure," he chuckled and you could notice a hint of pink in his cheeks.

when you giggled, he gave you a small peck on the lips before reaching for his wallet on the nightstand as you watched him pulling out a condom from one of the small pockets.

you watched as he bit into the tinfoil and slipped it on, a soft look in your eyes and the hint of a smile in your lips. he pulled your legs back to your chest and positioned himself at your entrance, easily sliding in and filling you completely.

"fuck," he groaned, feeling your pussy enveloping him just right, as if you were made for him.

he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head as he started rolling his hips slowly, your lips parting in a silent moan.

the way his cock stroke your walls as he fucked into you made you whine, your arms circling around his waist urging him impossibly closer, your chests flushed against each other.

"be quiet for me, baby," he whispered, lips finding yours again and stealing the soft sounds that left your throat with each of his thrusts.

he was slow and gentle and took his time in learning what made your nails dig into his skin, making it hard for you to control the volume of your sounds, the room filling with loud sighs and shaky breaths.

"oh my god," you panted against his lips, your walls starting to tighten around his cock, earning a grunt from him. "feels s’good".

lando had dreamed about that moment for years, but he could have never imagined that the squeeze of your walls as you came around him would feel that heavenly. the feeling of you clamping down on him was enough to trigger his own high, his movements turning slower and sloppier as he rode out both your highs.

you felt his weight on you for a few seconds before he rolled to the side, panting and pressing a kiss to your cheek. you turned your head to look at him, his eyes flushed close and a soft smile adorning his lips.

and fuck, you wished you could stop time and stay there forever. he looked pretty, angelic even.

after a few seconds admiring his features, you slowly got up and walked to the bathroom to clean yourself, not without grabbing one of his shirts first.

when you got out after a few minutes, lando had already cleaned the rest of the mess and was laying in one side of the bed, waiting for you to return.

as much as you hated to admit it, it felt kind of awkward. you had been friends for so long, now that the line was blurred you didn’t know how to properly act.

"i should get going," you announced  your return, looking for where he had put your dress. "max is probably back in his room, so i could…"

"stay," he interrupted you, his voice low and raspy. "it’s late and not safe for you to go alone."

you knew he was right. but you weren’t sure of what sleeping next to him would do for your feelings for him. surely, nothing good in terms of you most likely falling even harder for your friend. as if sleeping with him wasn’t enough.

"come on, y/n. max would kill me if anything happened to you," he added, patting the mattress next to him.

a little unsure, you gave in and climbed into bed next to him, keeping your distance. he smiled at you, pulling the covers up to your shoulders before shifting closer to your body, arm around your waist to keep you near.

soft kisses and caresses lulled you to sleep, and you woke up when the sun light entered the room through the curtains only a few hours later.

lando’s arm was still around your body, your legs tangled with his under the covers. you couldn’t keep your hand from brushing back the curls that fell over his forehead, a gentle movement that seemed to wake him up.

"good morning," you murmured when you heard his groan and he hid his face in the pillow, making you chuckle.

"what time is it?" his voice was muffled, but you turned around to look for your phone that you had placed in the nightstand when you got to his hotel the previous night.

“shit,” you whispered when you were met with fifteen missed calls and around fifty texts from your brother. lando looked at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

you didn’t explain further, too stressed about the situation to not get up and start getting ready to leave. you couldn’t believe you had forgotten to tell max that you were leaving early.

“what are you doing?” lando asked as you tried to messily put your dress back on as quickly as you could.

“max is probably wondering where have i been all night,” you simply explained, fighting to pull the zipper up.

“he knows,” his words made you turn around, a frown in your face as you waited for him to explain. “i texted him on our way back, you know, so he wouldn’t worry. i told him you were tired and he had your room card so…”

“oh, fuck,” you grumbled as realization hit you. max knew you had your card with him, so his texts were probably just him teasing you about your stupid lie.

“what?” he questioned, confused as to why would it be bad that max knew she was safe and with him.

“i…” you started explaining, too embarrassed about it to know how to do so without having lando laugh at you for your antics. you sat down on the edge of the bed, looking down at the floor. “he doesn’t have my card. it’s in my purse, so now he’s gonna give me so much shit for lying to spend a little more time with you.”

as you confessed, you lied back in bed, covering your face with the palms of your hands to hide the blush that had creeped up to your cheeks. of course, lando’s laugh only flustered you even more.

“if you wanted to get into my bed that bad, you could’ve just asked,” you felt lando’s voice closer to you, his body now lying next to yours. “i wouldn’t had said no, you know?”

the feelings that hid behind both of your confessions lingered in the air for what felt like forever. you felt your heart racing, and you wondered if lando could hear it too.

“say something,” he pleaded in a whisper, unsure of how you were feeling. you, on the other hand, were frozen in place thinking about how whatever happened next would potentially change everything.

“for how long?” you finally asked, turning your head to look at him. as you shifted a little on the bed, lando’s hands quickly caught your hips and pulled you closer to him.

you didn’t have to ask the whole question, he knew what you meant.

“ever since we met,” he mumbled.

“me too,” you answered, and before you could say anything else, lando’s lips were on yours again.

a sigh left your lips and you kissed him back with relish, regretting all the times that you had preferred to gaslight yourself into obliviousness instead of listening to your brother when he insisted that lando did like you.

you broke the kiss with a giggle, the tip of your nose brushing against his.

“max is gonna have a field day when he finds out,” you said, making lando chuckle too.

“i don’t wanna be there when you tell him,” he joked, bumping his nose into yours and trapping your mouth with his once more, not wanting to waste a single second now that you were finally his.

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 smut #ln4 fluff

[surftrips]

luke x daughter of aphrodite!! maybe a super cute fluff where they help luke show percy around and just their experience with percy!

-🥽 anon

stop this prompt is soo cute ! thanks for sending it in <3

"You okay?" Luke asked the newest camper in his cabin.

"Super."

"We all have them, you know." Luke clicked his tongue. "Intense, recurring nightmares. That's normal here. For the first time in your life, you're just like everyone else."

"So are you also... Do you not know who your..." the blonde boy began to ask.

"Am I unclaimed?" Luke shook his head. "No, Hermes is my father. That doesn't matter though, we're all on the same team here."

"Why is it okay they ignore some of us?"

"Spend too much time figuring out what the gods do whatever it is they do, you'll drive yourself crazy. Sooner you can stop worrying about that, the sooner you can enjoy what this place actually does offer."

"And what's that?"

Luke smiled, guiding Percy out the door to show him the rest of camp.

The two boys ran into Clarisse and the Ares kids first. Luke explained to Percy that the Ares kids were always confrontational and brutally honest, but he had nothing to worry about, as long as he was around.

"Come on, let's go figure out what you're good at."

After crossing off archery and metalworking, and dodging several near death experiences, they sat down for lunch.

"Is there a Greek god of disappointment?" Percy sighed.

"We're gonna find the thing you're good at, I know it," Luke reassured him. "We should try-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Luke's eyes lit up and a smile crossed his face, causing Percy to turn around.

A girl came over to Luke's side of the table and kissed the top of his head. "Hi, love."

Luke beamed, turning toward Percy. "Y/N, this is Percy, I'm giving him the tour. Percy, Y/N. She's in Aphrodite."

That much he could tell, Percy thought she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen.

"Ah, bonjour! Comment ça va?" she asked him.

Percy looked confused, only recognizing the first part of the sentence. "Uhhh... hello?"

Y/N smiled softly, "Guess he's not in Aphrodite then. Any luck finding out your skill, Percy?"

"No, unforunately," Percy grumbled.

"Aw, don't worry. Soon enough you'll be like Luke here," she had moved to sit in his lap by now, one of his arms curled around her waist. "Did you know he's the best swordsman at camp?"

She looked at Luke proudly, Percy swore he saw hearts instead of pupils in her eyes.

"I think it's come up once or twice," Percy responded.

The Aphrodite girl smiled again, "Have you shown Percy the lake yet?" she asked Luke.

"No, not yet. Do you want to come with us?"

"You mean, do I want to show him the place where we met? Is that even a question?"

The trio finished up their food and headed back outside. Y/N led the way, her presence enough to clear a path in the group of campers idling outside. Luke and Percy followed a few feet behind her.

"So... how long have you two been...?" Percy asked shyly.

"Three years. Since we were 16," Luke responded. Though Percy had only known Luke for about a day at this point, he couldn't help but notice how Luke's entire demeanor had changed since Y/N's arrival.

"Oh, wow. That's a long time."

"I got really lucky."

"What do you mean?"

"Before I got here, I had nobody. I mean, there was Annabeth and Thalia, but they're like my sisters. Y/N was the one that showed me what love is."

"Is that what you meant earlier? About enjoying what this place has to offer?"

He smiled. "You might be surprised, Percy."

"Are you boys coming or not?" Y/N called back toward them.

"Yes, ma'am!" Luke yelled back, jogging up to where she was. They were almost at the lake by then.

"So, Percy, anyone at camp catch your eye yet?" Y/N asked, her hand wrapped around Luke's arm.

"Babe, he just got here." Luke said.

"So? I knew I liked you the second we met."

Luke blushed, caught off guard by her sincerity. That was one thing he wasn't sure he would ever get over, her ability to express her emotions so unabashedly. It was something he still struggled with from time to time, but for her, he would let down all of his walls.

"I wouldn't say I have a crush on her or anything- she kinda just scares me but she did catch my attention," Percy interrupted Luke's thoughts.

"What's her name?" Y/N asked.

"Annabeth, I think."

Y/N nodded knowingly, looking over at Luke. "Well, I guess we'll just see if anything special blooms there. Anyway, we're here!"

The sun was beginning to set over the horizon now, painting the sky in beautiful hues of purple and pink. A gentle breeze accompanied the three as they sat down by the water.

Y/N leaned against Luke's body, savoring the warmth he offered. He absent-mindedly twirled a piece of her hair.

"Three years ago, I was sitting right here, when I saw someone a few feet away from me. He was throwing rocks into the lake and disturbing my peace," Y/N began. "When I looked over to see who it was-"

"You saw the most gorgeous man you've ever laid your eyes on," Luke cut in.

"Hey!" Y/N playfulled smacked his shoulder. "I know you've heard this story one hundred times but Percy hasn't yet."

"Yeah, I haven't yet!" Percy backed her up.

The two older campers laughed. "Thank you, Percy. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, I saw this boy with curly dark hair and soft brown eyes, and I thought that's him. He's the one. This was before I was claimed by Aphrodite, but I just had a feeling, you know?"

Percy nodded, even though he wasn't sure he had experienced that feeling yet.

"But anyway, this boy looked kind of sad, so I decided to sit next to him."

"I think that's why he was throwing rocks into the water," Percy broke in.

Y/N giggled and Luke nudged her shoulder to continue.

"You're right, Percy, I had the same thought. When I sat next to him, I sensed that he was annoyed."

"Okay, love, let me finish from here." Luke softly kissed her shoulder and she buried her head in the crook of his neck.

"I wasn't annoyed-" he clarified. "At least, not at you. I had just been claimed by my father, but I was still frustrated with the whole idea of gods having children and just ignoring them. Then, this angel sat next to me and for the first time, I felt seen."

Y/N looked up at her boyfriend, her face full of nothing but admiration. No matter how many times she heard this part of the story, she still couldn't believe how she got quite so lucky.

"Percy, our parents may never redeem themselves for their wrongdoings, but I thank the gods every day they sent me Y/N." With that, Luke gently placed his hand on her cheek and leaned in to kiss her.

"Hello! As lovely as this story is, still a minor here!" Percy waved his hand in front of their faces enthusiastically, causing all three of them to burst into laughter.

#🥽 anon #luke castellan prompt #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you

[djarincore]

i picture you when you are all alone

TAGS: smut, just a man thinkin' about his lovely girlfriend, unedited I'm tired, minors I'm begging you DNI, WC: 595

A/N: thank you to sleep token for fueling me. I think about this line and song too much <333

PART 2

To say Simon thought about you often when he was away would be an understatement—he thought of you always. 

He thought of the sweet, sweet girl—his girl—who was waiting for him to come home. Who would take him in with open arms. The girl who loved him so deeply, despite how fucked up and flawed he was. 

And when he closed his eyes at night—in a tiny bunk, bruised and battered, thousands of miles away from home—he thought of you, bare and splayed out on your shared bed. So perfect and all his. 

You'd be needy, desperate. It's been too many nights alone, without his cock filling you properly. Your fingers would dance over the hem of your panties, thighs rubbing together as you debated on whether or not to touch yourself. It wouldn't be the same, of course. Nothing would satisfy you the way Simon could. 

You'd pull your lower lip between your teeth and glance to his side of the bed. It's cold and empty; his scent still lingers on the pillow. You'd take the pillow in your arms and inhale deeply, gripping the cool fabric, pretending it was his shirt. You'd pretend the soft cushion was hard muscle beneath your fingertips. 

One hand would slip into your panties. When your finger brushes against your clit, you whimper. It really was too long since you last felt him. You miss his calloused hands, roughly tracing your figure. 

If he were there, he'd start at your neck, smirking at the way you swallow when his thumb traces your throat. Then, he'd path his way down your breast, playing with your nipples until you were whining for something more. He'd move on soon, following the curves of your body, until finally ending on your cunt. 

Your fingers would work pathetically, trying to replicate his movements, but even they aren't enough. You would try slipping one finger into your dripping pussy, then two, pushing your fingers slowly and working towards a climax. 

Two of your fingers don't work, though. They're not as thick or long as his. They don't reach in you the same way. Your fingers can't press that spongy spot inside you that makes your toes curl and back arch. 

Your fingers grip his pillow in frustration and your legs spread wider. Another, you think. And a third finger forces its way into your tight cunt. Still, nowhere near what he could do for you. 

You'd stay like that—riding your own fingers, wishing it were him—until you met the crest of your pleasure. Your mouth would drop open as your breath picked up. Your cunt would pulse around your fingers, greedily trying to suck them back in. And you'd come with his name on your lips. 

He thought of you in bed, panting. The rise and fall of your chest. Your fingers, covered in your release, slip from your panties. 

He let out a breath. God, he wanted to taste you. He wished it was him in that bed with you—his fingers, his cock, all bringing you over the edge over and over again. 

When his burner phone began to ring in his pocket, a knowing smirk crossed his face. When he dug the phone out and answered, without having to look at the caller ID, it was you on the other end. 

“Simon?” Your voice was quiet, almost breathless. It was early where you were. 

“Yes, love?”

He could hear you shift and wet your lips. “I had a dream about you…”

“Really?” He chuckled, “Because I was just thinkin’ about you too.”

#ghost x reader smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #ghost imagine #ghost scenario #simon riley x you

[navybrat817]

" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "

With Bucky. 🥺

This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!

Give Me a Name

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.

The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.

You should’ve known they were close by.

“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.

Until today.

The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.

You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.

Today wouldn’t be that day.

He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?

What made you so special?

“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?

“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.

You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.

And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.

That was your job.

Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.

Not when he wanted to keep you.

“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”

“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.

“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”

You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.

Not when you belonged in different worlds.

“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”

The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.

“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”

Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”

“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”

You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”

The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.

“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”

He’d prove that to you.

I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes x agent!reader #winter and kisa #bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

[n3on-graveston3s-calling]

The Hat Rule.

Characters: Portgas D. Ace, Buggy the Clown, Dracule Mihawk, Trafalgar Law [ uses they/them ], X-Drake / Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 2,422

Rating: Mature

Warnings: None

Author's Notes: I'm a sucker for the Hat Rule, sue me. Nothing but some subtle spice. Enjoy!

You would be lying if you said it hadn’t been thrilling to sneak up behind them and pluck the hat off their head. They were so attached to it, it was funny! Of course, sentimentality was one thing- but really, the way they had paused, reaching up to touch their head as if confused at the sudden loss had been far too comical for you to even consider not laughing at. But the moment they had turned, had called out your name-

You ran.

You had sprinted across the dock back towards safety, hat clutched in your hand as they followed after you. But you were faster- always had been quicker on your feet. You scurried up the gangplank, avoiding collisions with your fellow shipmates as you made your way below deck to your quarters. You thought you were safe, you really had! Taking a minute to catch your breath, you settled the hat atop your own head with a grin. 

Success! 

That is, until the door opened. You turned, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the owner of said hat, leaning against the door with an expression that lingered between amused and… Something else. Something darker. You suddenly realized you had cornered yourself in your haste to escape- and now, you had nowhere to run. 

──Portgas D. Ace [ 353 ]

Your heart hammered in your chest as Ace chuckled, arms crossed over his chest as you leaned back against the opposite wall. “You had your fun,” he spoke softly, holding a hand out to you. “Now gimme my hat back.”

“No.” You replied defiantly, instead putting the hat on your own head. You turned, studying your reflection in the mirror on the wall, tilting your head to and fro as a smile curved your lips. “I think it looks better on me, really,” you couldn’t help but tease.

“There’s a rule ‘bout wearin’ someone else’s hat, y/n.” Ace sighed, stepping in, closing the door behind himself- and locking it, something that had your breath faltering. A rule? What was he talking about? It was just a hat! Even so, he crossed the room with a few strides, settling behind you. His hands smoothed across your hips, his head dipping down to press chaste kisses along your throat. “You wear the hat, you ride the sailor,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, his gaze finding your own in the reflection. 

Hunger. That’s what that expression was; his beautiful brown eyes dark in the soft light of the room. Your heart stuttered in its beat as he kept your gaze locked with his own, lips pressing over where your carotid artery lay in your throat. “Oh,” you whispered back, blinking slowly as his hands wandered. Fingers plucked at the edge of your shirt, dragging it up slowly with his fingers as they trailed heated paths across your skin. His Devil Fruit ability- oh, how you loved that. 

“Whattya say, y/n?” He asked, biting at your shoulder gently, not enough to cause pain but certainly enough to draw a gasp out of your lips. You nodded mutely, transfixed by your reflections as he grinned wolfishly over your shoulder. “That’s my baby.” A damn near growl as he tugged your back against his front, subtle grinds of his hips giving you a clear image of just how much he wanted you. 

You were suddenly glad you decided to steal his silly little hat. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

──Buggy the Clown [ 464 ]

It had been a celebration. Another successful show, another successful tithe paid from the townsfolk. One of those rare times where your Captain was genuinely happy, laughing with his crew as the bonfire burned brightly on the beach. But you weren’t there- no, you were sitting on the throne in the center ring of the Big Top, orange tricorn settled atop your head as you waited. 

You didn’t have to wait for long.

“Y/n,” Buggy called out as he sauntered in, his gaze settling on your form sitting in his chair, wearing his hat. The sight had his breath faltering, had his mouth suddenly dry. You looked damn good sitting there, almost as good as he did. Your legs kicked up over the arm, your lips curved into a cheeky grin. His hat… His hat on your head. 

He approached slowly, the sounds of the celebration fading behind him as he reached the throne. “Look at you! All comfortable in my chair, wearing my hat.” He muttered, one hand grabbing your chin, forcing your head up and back to meet his gaze. The other settled on the top of the throne as he leaned his weight against it, hovering over you.

“Your hat?” You countered with faux confusion. You reached up, touching the tricorn. “I could’ve sworn this was my hat.”

“Brat.” Buggy hissed as you grinned. 

You leaned up, sitting upright as your legs shifted down from the arm of the couch. “Yeah? Am I?” You continued to taunt, watching as your lover’s gaze brightened with the game you had decided to play.

“Yaknow, there’s this funny little rule that comes with wearing someone else’s hat.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip. You leaned into the touch, gaze flickering down to his painted smile. 

“What is it?” You breathed as he shifted closer. When you’d stolen his hat, you’d let his hair down. Aquamarine tresses spilled over his shoulders, falling forward to cloak you, giving an odd form of privacy as his lips ghosted against your own.

“Wear the hat, ride the Captain.” Buggy murmured as he captured your lips in a kiss. Paint smeared against your skin as you reached up, tangling your fingers in his hair, drawing out a pleased hum from him as he pressed closer. 

You pulled back with a nip to his lip, watching the way he crumbled beneath you so easily. “Ride the Captain, eh?” The thought set a fire in you. You rose to your feet, swapping places with a hand against his chest, shoving him down into his throne. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck you here.”

“Shit,” he chuckled, hands settling on your waist as you took your place on his lap. “Keep the hat on.”

“Yes, Captain.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

──Dracule Mihawk [ 516 ]

You felt like royalty as you ran through the halls of the castle. Perhaps it was the romance novels you’d read over the years, but there was something particularly thrilling about running through corridor after corridor with the tricorn clutched to your chest. You found yourself in the library, chest rising and falling with deep breaths as you turned to face the doors. Any moment now, Dracule would walk in.

It was worth it. Grabbing his tricorn the moment he’d docked at the island, running as fast as your legs could carry you back to the castle. You worried your lip as you looked down at the black leather, fingers brushing against the stitching. After a moment’s hesitation, you raised the hat- and settled it atop your head.

The doors swung open. 

“Darling,” Mihawk drawled. Yoru wasn’t on his back; his coat had been discarded, no doubt left by the front entryway. He sighed, taking in the sight of you in the moment. Cheeks flushed, hat perched atop your head; you were bathed in the orange glow of the fireplace. The sun had already set behind you; no light spilled through the large windows. 

A piece of art, you were.

“I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Slow steps drew him closer, even as you took shorter steps backwards- until you stumbled, ending up on your rear on the rug before the fireplace. Mihawk chuckled as he stood over you, arms crossed over his chest.

You found your words at last, grinning up at your lover. “I dunno what you’re talking about.” Cheekily, you leaned back on your elbows as Dracule knelt, reaching out to cup your cheek gently. “All I have is this shirt… And this hat.”

“... That’s all?” His gaze flickered down to your legs- bare, he realized. When had you stripped your trousers? He was certain you had been wearing them when you met him at the dock. “There’s a certain tradition when you wear another’s hat.”

“Tell me about it.” You sighed as his hand smoothed along your calf, gently massaging the muscle. He moved slowly, crawling over your form as his hands left your leg and cheek, balancing his weight over you. He dipped his head, stealing a kiss from you that had your head swimming by the end of it. The ghost of a brush of his tongue against your lip before he parted; you leaned forward, chasing him. 

“Wear the hat,” he murmured as he shifted, arm curling around your waist. In a movement too quick to track, he’d rolled you both, settling you on his lap as he settled on the rug. His fingers gripped your thighs, dangerously high to rucking up your- no, that was certainly his- shirt. “Ride the pirate.”

“Oh,” you breathed, mind growing fuzzy with the lust that was beginning to course through your veins. You shift your hips slowly, feeling your lover respond in kind. A groan pulled free of you as your hands settle on his chest, fingers gripping at his shirt. “Oh, I think I like that one.”

“Good.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

──Trafalgar Law [ 450 ]

It was hard to hide in a submarine. This was your first- no, second- mistake. Taking your Captain’s hat was the first mistake. Hiding in the submarine was the second. And the third? Deciding to add insult to injury by hiding in their own quarters. Was it the brightest of ideas? No. But Shachi wasn’t going to let you get out of the bet without consequences, and like hell you were going to cough up five hundred berries. 

So, you stole Law’s hat. And then had run for your damn life. 

You could hear the heavy footsteps of their boots as they approached. You panicked- and tugged the white hat on as the door opened, revealing the frustrated face of Law. They paused, brow furrowing at the sight of you standing in the middle of their quarters. “The boiler room would have been a better hiding place,” they taunted sarcastically, closing the door behind themself before leaning back against it. 

“I uh, I panicked?” You shrugged, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. You reached up, patting the hat on your head. “I get why you wear it. ‘S comfy.”

“It looks good on you.” They admitted softly, pushing off the door to cross the room, settling before you. Their hand raised, brushing a strand of hair back behind your ear. “Almost as good as it looks on me,” they finished, lips curving into that signature cocky grin that had you stomach twisting. 

You reached out, settling your hands on their chest, “There’s this lil’ thing,” words barely above a whisper; they had to focus on you to really hear. “This lil’ rule I remember learnin’ about.”

“And what would that be?” They asked just as softly, hands settling on your hips, drawing you closer, pressing your form against their own. Their hands squeezed slowly, the pressure enough to draw a pleased sigh from you.

You leaned in, lips brushing against their ear. “If I wear my Captain’s hat- I have to ride them.” A nip against the shell of their ear had a shudder dancing across them. You could have sworn a soft ‘fuck’ had slipped free from them. “Is that right?”

They pulled back, hand coming up to grip your jaw. A mischievous light had settled in their gaze as they studied you. You weren’t sorry; not a single speck of sympathy lingered in your expression, in your words, in your teasing. “You are, y/n-ya.” They rasped as they leaned in, stealing a kiss. Their teeth grazed your lip as they guided you backwards, until the back of your knees hit the bed. You sank slowly, but they didn’t part- not until you pulled back, panting.

“Captain-”

“Keep it on.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

──X Drake [ 399 ]

You had managed to stumble into your quarters on the Liberal Hind, only to realize that oh- well, shit. That’s a mistake. You curse yourself softly as you try to figure out how to get out of this mess. It had been a silly idea. You hadn’t seen your Captain laugh in a while- and thought that hey, stealing the hat would be funny!

Apparently not, given the yell that had come from him as you sprinted away. 

Your heart skipped more than one beat as the door to your quarters swung open, revealing the tall form of your Captain, X-Drake. You swallowed roughly around nothing as he studied you, brow furrowed. He ran a hand through his hair with a huff, stepping in and closing the door behind himself. 

Slowly, you raised the hat- and placed it on your own head.

Worth it, you thought to yourself as your lover’s eyes widened in shock as he turned around once more. “Missing something?” You teased, arms crossing over your chest as he studied you.

“That’s my hat.” He stated simply, taking a step forward. “Why did you take it?”

“Maybe I want it.” You shrugged, watching the way his eye twitched at the blatant insubordination you showed. Former Marines, always so strict. You worried your cheek as you glanced away. “I think it looks good, don’t you?”

“It…” He faltered, drawing in a slow breath. “It does look good, yes.” He crossed over to you, reaching out a hand to grasp the hat- only to pause. You were at port. The crew was working on supply runs. Alone on the ship. His hand lowered to tilt your chin up gently, his demeanor shifting as he tilted your head to the left- and then the right. “It suits you well,” he murmured, voice damn near molten gold with the way it poured over you. 

You shuddered, gaze rising to meet his own. “What’s that old saying… Wear the hat, ride the Captain?”

His jaw clenched; the hand on your chin flexed. Got him. “You’re nothing but trouble,” he groaned as his hands smoothed down your sides, hooking in the waistband of your trousers, tugging you closer to himself. “You need to be disciplined. Stealing from your captain…”

“Then do it,” you whispered, leaning in to ghost a kiss along his jaw. “After all, I did steal.”

“Turn around.”

“Yes, sir.”

#portgas d ace #buggy the clown #dracule mihawk #trafalgar d water law #x drake #Trafalgar law #one piece x gn reader #portgas d ace x reader #buggy the clown x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #x drake x reader #one piece smut #maybe if y'all like this enough they'll get their own full smuts who knows....... #unholy scripture [ n s f w ] #x reader

[dreamsontheirway]

It’s Not Your Fault | S.R.

Summary: You leave work late one night and someone follows you. Spencer x reader. Warnings: stalker, sexual assault/unwanted touch Word Count: 1.7k

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Spencer hated it when you had to work late nights. You were also an agent at the BAU, but sometimes you had to stay late to complete paperwork. He would stay late with you on occasion, but you hated inconveniencing him. Of course, he would never consider it an inconvenience.

He had offered to stay late with you again tonight, but you refused. He had such a long day and you knew he needed rest. Besides, you wouldn’t be too long.

It was only around 9 pm when you were finishing up your work. You heard the shrill beep of your phone, indicating a notification.

Hi darling. Almost finished?

You smiled at his message. You quickly sent a reply, letting him know that you would be leaving imminently. Almost immediately, he replied with a thumbs up and a heart.

You began compiling all your papers and files, now completed, and placed them in the filing cabinet at your desk. You stood up, grabbed your satchel bag, and admired the look of your tidy desk before turning on your heel and walking towards the door.

You normally parked in the parking garage attached to the building, but earlier today it had been massively full due to a conference. You were forced to park in the garage down the street a ways. This wasn’t so bad; the early fall weather was the perfect kind to walk in.

You began your short trek from your building to the parking garage, adjusting your satchel bag on your shoulder. It made you a bit nervous how dark it was already, but it wasn’t a far walk by any means.

You were about halfway there when you heard the light scraping of shoes on concrete behind you. You snuck a glance and saw a dark figure about fifty feet away. Most of the time men on the street were harmless, but you were an agent, and you had a bad feeling about this. There had been a few cases recently about women being assaulted in this area.

You assumed you were just being a bit paranoid. It had been a long day of looking at horrible case notes, after all. You decided to walk diagonally across the street as a short cut, and to see if the figure behind you did the same. Your stomach twisted tightly when the figure followed your path exactly. The figure had gotten closer, too, by at least ten feet.

Your hand instinctively went to your hip. Shit. You had left your gun locked up in the office. Shit.

You could hold your own in a fight, but you had absolutely no clue what you were up against here, and no back up.

You scrambled and fumbled your phone out of your pocket, and clicked the most recent contact on your call list. He picked up on the second ring.

“Y/N, are you on your way home y—“

“Spencer,” you whispered, with an intensity that resulted in a thick silence on the other end. You typically called him Spence. He knew something was wrong. “Someone’s following me. I left my gun in my desk.”

“Shit,” Spencer exclaimed, frantically. “Shit. Where are you?” You heard rustling on the other end.

You were a talented agent, and Spencer knew you wouldn’t call him unless you thought there was something seriously wrong. Unless you thought you couldn’t handle it. The thought sent a shiver down Spencer’s back.

“I’m almost to the parking garage, but there’s no one around. Spencer, I don’t know anything about who’s behind me. I don’t know what to do.”

The person behind you was getting closer, but you were talking quietly enough so they couldn’t hear you. You were growing increasingly frightened. You knew you were trained for this, but you were still a relatively new agent, especially in comparison to Spencer and the rest of the team. You’ve had your fair share of creepy men come on to you, but you had the advantage of analyzing them and knowing what you were dealing with. You didn’t have that advantage this time around. You could assume the figure behind you was a man by the heavy steps, but that’s about it.

“Keep walking, quickly. I’m on my way. I’m texting the others. Stay on the line with me, please.” His voice was desperate; you could tell he was just as terrified as you. You knew one of his biggest fears was losing you. Your mind briefly flickered to the realization he’d probably never let you work late without him again. The thought seemed comforting in the moment, and you found yourself wishing he was here.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up stiffly.

“Hey baby,” a deep, slimy voice spoke, a few feet behind you.

Damn it, you thought. You had been preoccupied talking to Spencer, you hadn’t realized how much closer he’d gotten.

You ignored the voice, and continued to walk quickly. You were unsure about how to handle the situation. You just wanted to get to your car. You could see it shining in the distance, the beams of light dancing on the windows from the lights in the parking garage. Luckily, you had parked on the lower level so it would be easy to access.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to ya,” the deep voice continued.

You could hear Spencer frantic on the phone, asking who the voice belonged to. You ignored him; you had to focus on making it to your car.

“Hey!” The voice bellowed, and a strong hand clutched your arm tightly, and you knew it would bruise.

You yanked it away, turning around. “Do not touch me.” You demanded, releasing a shaky breath.

Spencer was losing his mind. “Y/N,” he gasped. “I’m almost there. Hold on.”

You just breathed out in response. You slipped your phone into your back pocket, still on the call with Spencer.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing alone out here on a night like this?” The man questioned. He smirked, his teeth crooked and his eyes a piercing blue, so different from Spencer’s soft and comforting hazel.

“I’m going home,” you stated, continuing towards your car, but angled so you could continue to watch the man.

“Come on,” he smirked. “Aren’t you up for a little fun?”

He lunged then, grabbing the sides of your arms and pushing you against the concrete wall right next to the parking garage. You struggled against his grip. He had caught you off guard, and he was much stronger than you.

“Let me go,” you spoke deeply, as venomously as you could muster, although the slight crack at the end wasn’t very intimidating.

He just hummed in response, and let his hand travel down your arm and rest against your hip. You squirmed against him, but his grip was far too tight. You felt bile rising up your esophagus at the touch of the vile creature in front of you.

You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes. You couldn’t move. You had no part of your body free to even attempt to utilize the years of training you’ve had. The bastard knew what he was doing, and it terrified you.

The man’s large and sweaty hand traveled further, and squeezed at the fabric of your ass. Against your wishes, your let out a light sob.

All of a sudden, the man was torn away from you, his tight grip causing you to stumble forward onto the grass. It all happened so fast and you looked in the direction of where the man had been pulled to.

You saw a familiar head of brown, wavy hair. Spencer was clad in a Caltech sweatshirt and jeans. He really had left the house as soon as you called. He always preferred to wear a combination of slacks and a button down or sweater.

Spencer had the man pinned against the wall, one arm against his throat and the other — oh my god. Spencer’s right hand had his gun pressed to the man’s side.

“Don’t fucking touch her. What gave you the idea you could touch her?” Spencer growled, his left arm adding pressure to the man’s throat. Spencer rarely cursed; you knew he was pissed. The last time you saw him like this was during the whole events with Emily. But even then… this was different. The veins in his neck were popping out so much it looked like they might burst. Spencer was often protective of you, knowing the dangers out there in the world, but you hadn’t ever seen him like this.

“FBI, put your hands up!” A loud voice boomed to the left of you and you quickly looked towards it, breathing out when you saw Morgan, his gun pointed towards the man and Spencer.

Despite Morgan being here now and you being safe, Spencer didn’t budge from his position against the man.

“Agent Reid,” Morgan boomed, harshly, knowingly. He knew how much Spencer cared for you, and how quickly his emotions could escalate when something he cared about was threatened.

Spencer loosened his grip slightly, and the vile man against the wall lifted his hands up in defense. Spencer hesitated, then finally released him, but pushed the man against the wall as he let go.

Morgan rushed forward and took Spencer’s place, twisting the man so his front was against the wall. He grabbed his wrists and placed them in cuffs.

You were sat, watching the scene in front of you. You felt helpless, vulnerable, stupid. You were an agent of the FBI, how could you have let this happen? You choked back a sob, but a whimper left your lips against your will.

At the soft and solemn sound, Spencer’s gaze dashed to you and his eyes were filled with worry. He rushed to you then, cursing himself for not attending to you earlier. He lifted you from the grass, clutching your shaking form against his own.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked, his hot breath against your ear.

“Just my pride,” you choked, laughing grimly. “I’m so sorry I let this happen.”

His grip on you tightened, his strong hand pulling the small of your back towards him. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. We’re pretty sure he’s the unsub the local police department has been looking into.”

You shuttered at the thought. You felt like one of the victims whose smiling face was on the board in the conference room. You felt weak.

As if Spencer could hear your very thoughts, he whispered against your hair, “It’s not your fault.”

-----

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[riaki]

nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends

i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!

satoru hates arguing with you.

it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.

it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.

of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.

but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.

it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.

it was small. barely worth fussing over.

he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.

a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.

"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.

his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.

you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.

"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.

(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)

you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.

he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.

you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.

"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.

you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.

"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.

he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.

then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.

"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.

his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.

(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)

but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.

"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.

the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.

and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).

a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.

but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.

you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.

"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"

"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”

...

he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.

maybe.

a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.

it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.

"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.

"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)

his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.

you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.

he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.

the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.

what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.

eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.

wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.

despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.

and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.

"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.

"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."

you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.

"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.

(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)

"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.

"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.

you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.

he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.

you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.

you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.

you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.

you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.

"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.

even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.

its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

#i rlly like this one yayayayyayya #toru who uses lipgloss my beloved #smth ab his gym fit #i think about how school was after suguru left a lot.. #hes such a loserboy but he loves you soso much he makes me wanna puke #thinking of u as his favorite msurhoom makes saotru giggle fs #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #billet-doux #jjk #listened to mary by alex g on loop while writing this. like the entire time #nice boys once or twice #if u see this pls don’t read the link it put my og idea as the title 😕 #ot probably did that for all of my other fics too thatsembarrasjng #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n