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faebaex · 4 months

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Tangled in Wonderland - Tall, Tall Tales

author note: Eeeeek this is very, very late! A lot of stuff has happened and yada yada but I’m here and I’m sorry! I’m still going to continue with this and I hope I can get back on track with writing this because I’m really enjoying this event! This instalment follows on directly from the Scarabia one, I hope you all enjoy!

characters: Floyd Leech x GN!Reader

“SHRIMPY!”

Oh no.

Your whole body froze up in an instant at the sound of that familiar, unhinged voice. Clearly, fate had decided you hadn’t gone through enough punishment today and decided to add a little bit more spice to your day. And by spice, it meant perhaps one of the most chaotic entities you have ever met. You looked around wildly, trying to spot him as quickly as you could so you could run. He was right on the path leading up to the Hall of Mirrors, roguish grin on his face as he waved both his arms at you. Your only choice was to go back inside and escape through one of the mirrors.

“Stay away from me, Leech!” You snapped, not even bothering with your usual faux attempt to be cordial as you turned on your heel, bolting towards the mirrors. If you could just get through the Heartlabyul mirror, you’d be—

“Aha~! Got you.” Breathed a husky voice right by your ear, suddenly tugged straight off your feet and into the air by the lanky arms that coiled around your midsection, your back flush against his chest.

“Shrimpy is so mean, callin’ me by just my last name! Even when I’ve gone through all the effort to give you a lil nickname too!” Floyd mourned, swinging you around the Hall of Mirrors, your legs swinging perilously out in front of you whilst you clutched onto his arms for dear life and let out a small, undignified scream. “Aah, maybe you thought I was Jade? Because I was really far away? Then maybe I can forgive you, Shrimpy…” His sharp teeth were uncomfortable close to your ear as he let out a little laugh, “or maybe I can just keep spinnin’ you around!”

Floyd picked up the speed of his spinning, his manic laughter drowning out your screams and for a moment, you thought this might be how it all ended… But then you remembered, the Leech twins thrive off of fear in their victims, so you sucked it up and started hitting him on his arms to get his attention. If your legs ended up breaking one of the mirrors, you’d never hear the end of it from Crowley…

“P-put me down, Floyd! I am not a toy!” You cried out, and thankfully your repeated hitting of his arms managed to get his attention, for he finally slowed to a stop. The world spun around you, making you semi-grateful for his arms around your waist. They were the only thing holding you up, at this point.

“Eh? Are you sure you’re not a toy? Azul said somethin’ real interesting the other day…”

Uh oh.

“Did he now…” You remarked, feigning disinterest as best as you could as your vision finally began to right itself again.

“Mhmmm~” Floyd mused against your ear, and you just knew this couldn’t be good, “he said you know things. Things that you should have no way of knowing. Kinda like one of those magic 8 ball things.” Floyd continued, before his mouth split into a broad, terrifying grin. “Maybe if I shake you a little, you’ll tell me all sorts of things too.”

“Floyd, don’t—”

It was too late. You clung to Floyd’s arms as he began to shake you erratically, like you were a chocolate bar stuck in a vending machine. Your head collided with his shoulder multiple times, not hard enough to hurt but definitely jarring in its own way as the world once again became dizzying. Floyd seemed to be enjoying himself, his mocking laughter filling the small hall as he watched your rattled expression.

“Oh magic Shrimpy ball, oh magic Shrimpy ball,” he chanted as he continued to shake you, finally beginning to slow down as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “why did you walk out of the Scarabia mirror just a moment ago?”

Ah, of course he saw that.

With as much strength as you could muster in your dizzy state, you threw an elbow back into his chest, feeling some satisfaction when you heard him let out a small ‘oof’. “That’s none of your business,” you grumbled, your lips turned downwards in distaste. “and that isn’t even how a magic 8 ball works! You’re supposed to ask the question first and then shake it… Don’t start shaking me again!” You quickly warned as a follow up, turning your head to give Floyd a glare. He just gave you that little frustrating grin right back.

“It’s not my fault Shrimpy, I have all this pent-up energy ‘cause you’ve been avoiding me. I’ve missed you.” As if to punctuate his words, he started to squeeze you, and you found yourself once again whacking his arms to get him to release you.

“Floyd! There is no need—” You gasped out, feeling some of your joints cracking harmlessly from the pressure but a tightness building near your ribs that promised pain if he didn’t stop soon. You gasped out a breath when he finally eased up his hold, but very nearly choked when you realised he was waltzing right towards the Octavinelle mirror.

“Floyd, put me down!”

“Nah, Shrimpy, don’t feel like it. Let’s hang out!” Floyd responded in his usual lackadaisical manner, stepping through the Octavinelle dormitory mirror without pause. It was odd, feeling the usually surreal feeling of a bubble forming around you as you floated towards the dorm, but on top of that, Floyd was still holding you, back flush against his chest with your legs dangling in front of you. You can’t imagine how ridiculous it looked.

Floyd walked you straight into the Mostro Lounge without a care in the world, heading straight for one of the unoccupied booths.

“Oya,” you heard another terribly familiar voice as you passed the bar, “I see you have acquired a valuable customer, Floyd. Please enjoy your stay.” Jade hummed with a short bow, not even bothering to hide his toothy grin as he observed your plight. You didn’t even get a chance to scowl before Floyd was bundling you into a booth, none too gently either.

“What? You told me to put you down.” Floyd drawled when you shot him a glare, sitting opposite you and spreading himself out on the available space. He leaned his elbows onto the table, propping his head up with one palm as he stared straight at you.

“Ne, Shrimpy… Why don’t you tell me what you said to Azul the other week to make him come back all shaken up?” Floyd hummed, his smile seeming playful, but you could already see the predatory glint in his eye.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, unsure of what Floyd’s motive was here.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You responded demurely, keeping tight lipped. Floyd’s smile widened, sharp teeth on full display as he leaned forward. “Don’t be like that, Shrimpy! You should have seen it, it was hilarious!” Floyd cackled thumping his hand on the table in front of them, “he came rushin’ back to the Lounge, all pale faced and jumpy, and then locked himself in the VIP room.”

A cocktail glass filled with a blue liquid and decorated with a star shaped garnish was elegantly placed in front of you. A similar glass was placed in front of Floyd. “Yes, Azul was very startled when he returned to the Lounge the other week. We were very worried.” Jade confirmed, folding his hands in front of him, faux concern colouring his tone, but the amusement shone through his close eyed smile.

“I didn’t order this.” You responded dryly, as Floyd already pulled his straw to his mouth and took a gulp from his drink. “Aww just try it Shrimpy, it’s my own recipe! It’s good, see!” He stuck his tongue out, revealing his stained bright blue tongue. You pushed your glass away from you. Yeah, you definitely weren’t going to be trying that.

“I’m positively hurt, prefect. I mixed that with care, just for you.” Jade hummed, his eyebrows down turning in a look of fake hurt. You ignored him.

“We could hear Azul muttering to himself in the VIP room. ‘Who are they’, ‘how do they know that’. He got so mad when we used Jade’s key to unlock the door. You should have seen his face, Ahaa~”

“You spied on your own friend? You guys are ruthless.” You commented casually, and Floyd only grinned at you wider, Jade’s expression not changing from his solemn one.

“The VIP room was quite the mess, too. Papers all over the floor. Azul wouldn’t even let me help him clean it all up, it must have taken him hours.” Jade added, his smile looking more and more devious by the minute.

“So tell us what you did, Shrimpy.” Floyd prodded.

“Yes tell us, prefect.” Jade coaxed.

Both of the Leech twins stared you down, razor sharp smiles on their faces as they attempted to intimidate you into revealing what happened between you and Azul in the library that day. You were starting to see now why Azul insisted on referring to them as just colleagues.

You were in a bit of a bind here. You expected the stunt you pulled on Azul to have some backlash, and you really didn’t want to make the Leech twins anymore interested in you than they already were. And for whatever reason, Azul hadn’t divulged what you had said to him to Jade and Floyd, who were his closest confidants. Or, this was some sort of elaborate ruse that they had strategized to wheedle the information out of you. Either way, you thought you should probably tread with caution here…

… But Azul had been bothering you again lately…

You leaned back into your seat, looking sheepishly away from them both and staring at the smooth pearlescent surface of the table. “I don’t know guys, it’s kind of… Embarrassing…” You muttered. You caught Jade and Floyd sharing a look between each other before they leaned in closer, like sharks tasting blood.

“Ne, it’s okay, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”

“It might make you feel better to get it off your chest, prefect…”

Hook, line and sinker.

You glanced up at them, the both of them leaning in uncomfortably close but you masked your distaste by rubbing your arm, as if you were feeling flustered by just thinking about the situation. “Well, um…” You began, pausing for dramatic effect, Floyd leaning in closer in anticipation and Jade nodding gently, as if the comfort you for the difficult story you were about to tell.

“Azul had been visiting me in the library after classes for a few days… We were getting along really well… It was, well… It was nice to have a friend. It’s hard sometimes, being the odd one out…” You sighed softly, really hamming it up for them. They were eating it up, leaning closer as you continued, “but Azul never made me feel like that. He was always so kind, so welcoming.” You smiled for a moment, before you face dropped and your lips pressed together into a tight line. “But then…” You hesitated again, your expression creasing into a distressed frown.

“Did something happen, prefect?”

“Yeah, yeah! Tell us Shrimpy!”

“Well… One day suddenly, he… Asked me on a date… But…” You started, but then you covered your face with your hands and shook your head, “oh I can’t say it, it’s just so… So humiliating!” You cried out, your voice muffled by your hands. Floyd and Jade were watching with rapt attention, Jade not even able to hide his obvious enjoyment at both your perceived distress and the opportunity to get some dirt on Azul, whereas Floyd hadn’t been hiding his excitement in the first place.

“But what, Shrimpy?”

“Please prefect, if you tell us, perhaps we can put your mind at ease…”

Slowly, you uncovered your hands from your face, to see the eager faces of the Leech twins nodding at you encouragingly. You leaned in close, and they followed suit, all three of you huddled together in the booth almost conspiratorially. You looked around nervously, before you continued in a hushed whisper.

“I had to turn him down… He got a little upset, understandably. He couldn’t see why I didn’t like him, why I wouldn’t give him a chance…” Floyd and Jade shared a discreet look at that, because that definitely sounded like the Azul they knew. “I tried to comfort him, to tell him that I thought he was a great guy and it was me not him but he just wouldn’t listen! So I had to tell him the truth…” You winced, wringing your hands together. If Floyd and Jade leaned any closer, you’d all be bumping heads together.

“The truth, prefect?”

“Ne, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”

You swallowed, before looking up at them with your best puppy dog eyes. “Okay, please don’t say anything but… … …”

“… I’m allergic to octopus…”

The table fell silent. Floyd and Jade stared at you, motionless, as you peeked up bashfully at them. Then suddenly, Floyd was roaring with laughter, his loud cackle making several of the customers in the Lounge jump in surprise. His hand thumped the table several times, knocking over his drink and sending the bright blue juice spilling all over the shiny white surface and onto the tile below. Jade effortlessly sidestepped before the mess could hit his shoes, but his shoulders were visibly shaking as his hand tried to hide his laughter

“Oh prefect… I’m so pffft… Ahem… I’m so sorry to hear that.” Jade attempted, hand still propped to his chin as he tried to compose himself, rather unsuccessfully screamed with laughter beside him.

“What is going on here?!”

A voice hissed through the Lounge, but the twins didn’t even flinch. If anything, it just sent Floyd into fresh peals of laughter, flopping down on the booth seat as he held his stomach.

Azul stood a few feet away, obviously brought out by the commotion and chaos that was currently happening in your booth. His eyes widened when he saw you sitting there, but he quickly schooled his face again, a detail that Jade caught, making him unable to resist his own toothy grin.

“Jade, you are supposed to be managing the bar. And Floyd, stop that racket right now and get changed. Your shift started thirty minutes ago! And clean up that mess!” Azul ordered with a stern expression, before his eyes landed on you, his lips pursing together, “and I would appreciate it if you didn’t disturb them when they are working, prefect.”

You held your hands up defensively as you started to shimmy out of the booth. “Actually, I was just leaving.”

Your words breathed some life back into Floyd, who’d finally recovered from his laughing fit to sit up and climb out of the booth himself, a rapturous smile on his face. “I’ll walk Shrimpy to the door~!” He announced, throwing a heavy arm around your shoulders before you could rebuff him.

“Floyd! You’re supposed to be—”

“I’m terribly sorry for my negligence, Azul. I was just trying to comfort our dear customer over their recent romantic distress.” Jade chimed in, and the only way you would be able to describe the grin on his face was feral. Floyd began cackling again, using Jade’s distraction of Azul as an opportunity to whisk you away and get out of work at the same time.

You pondered whether you should feel bad for setting up Azul for at least a week’s worth of ribbing from the Leech twins as Floyd steered you towards the Octavinelle mirror, but then you remembered he put an anemone on your cat. And Ace and Deuce. Suddenly, your shoulders felt a lot lighter. Well, they would, if Floyd’s lanky arm wasn’t still around them.

Floyd kept his arm around you right until you reached the exit of the Octavinelle dorm, but you chalked it up to him being on a good mood high because of what you’d just told him and Jade. But just as you were about to duck out from under his arm, you felt his hot breath against your ear for the second time that day.

“Ne, Shrimpy. Are you allergic to eel too?”

Before you could even react, you were getting sucked up into one of those magical bubbles again as it began carrying you towards the Octavinelle mirror, your expression bewildered as you stared back at Floyd, who sent you off with a cheeky grin.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader

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bbykento · 9 months

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LOSING A BET - Sub! Gojo x Dom! M. reader

wc. 1.2k, not proofread

contents! mlm, male reader, public nudity, exhibitionism, edging, male orgasm, dirty talk, sort of praising, tummy bulging, lil bit of food play, no preps for his ass.

He was doomed for… he lost the bet.

What bet did he lose to? Well let’s start from the top…

“Since you’re sooo confident that you can last long without me, let’s make a bet. Or are you too much of a pussy hm?” You say, a grin forms on your face.

“What is there that I can’t do?” He says cockily

“I’m sure this will challenge you.. one week without masturbating or any sort of sexual pleasure, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“What’s the catch?”

“If you lose, we’ll go on a date… while you’re butt-naked. Deal?”

“Is that one of your kinks?” he laughed.

“Maybe… Well?” you waited for his answer…

He contemplated, but then agreed later on. what could go wrong, right?

Fuck. this went so bad. he thought he could do it, his ego has gotten the best of him. It’s only been a day and he was already rock hard.

It’s even more painful when he didn’t have the time nor the privacy to release himself from all that tension. But not wanting to give in, he decided to endure the pain and embarrassment until the end of the bet…

Things get worse for him, after one 5 days, he couldn’t take it anymore. this. is. torture. he started to feel urges, emotions, everything… things he’s never felt before..

Just when he managed to survive the 6th day, he lost it. You wouldn’t know if he’s masturbating right? You’re away you wouldn’t know.. would you?

But when you come home early, you find him panting on the bed and an ‘eager puppy dog look’ on his face. A naked little puppy who wants nothing more than a master to fuck him…

“Finally given up?~” You say with a smirk.

He looks up to you, whimpering and nodding his head. “I know I’ve lost the bet but p-please, can’t take it a-anymore~” he whines.

You smiled at him as you approach him slowly. Like a predator hunting it’s prey. He blushes as he wraps his arms around you.

The anticipation makes him moan louder, not caring about anyone else hearing them… just as long as he gets what he wants.

His hips slowly grind on yours, massaging your cock against the cloth with each movement. “You know the consequences right?” he nods just wanting to be fucked already.

Today was the day of your date after gojo had officialy lost the bet..

As a result, gojo was fully butt-naked in the park. to his luck, there weren’t many people. you guys settled for a picnic on the grass, everything was settled.

“How do you like it being butt-naked outside?” you whisper in his ears, sending shivers to his body. “Do you like the idea of getting caught naked?” you began to tease his hard nipples.

Gojo's heart began to race as he felt the softness of your lips on his body. he had been waiting for this moment for days, ever since the bet. he had lost and now he had to face the consequences, but being with you was worth it.

He could feel your hand exploring his body, sending waves of pleasure through him. he was feeling more aroused with every second that passed. you were pushing him to the limits of his own pleasure.

“Do you like being exposed like this?” you asked him, while your hands were still exploring his body. gojo couldn't find the words to answer. he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of your hands on him. he could feel the wind against his skin. Your hands moved down and started exploring his ass. he couldn't help but moan out loud. It felt like his body was ready to explode. you were pushing him to the edge and he was loving it. you moved your hands even further down and started to massage his inner thigh. Gojo couldn't take it any longer. he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer. you grabbed the honey jar and spilled some on him as you licked on it seductively.

“All fours baby.” he obeys as you slap the fats of his ass, while his back arches for more of your touches.

You spread his cheeks to see his cute, tight little asshole. he could feel the cold air, hardening his cock and nipples. you lube your cock before you enter in him slowly, teasing his ass with only your tip. you grunt, seeing the head of your cock disappearing bit by bit. you slowly move in and out, not fully inserting it.

“N-name, ahn~ M-more fuuck~” he was breathing heavily. “Please?~ Ah!-“ he was cut off by the sudden thrust.

Holy shit. It was tight and warm, you could feel him clamp down on you. not wanting you to get out. you slowly roll your hips in and out and slap his ass watching it jiggle.

“Feel so good.. mm~” you turn his head sideways to give him a messy kiss. every thrust made his eyes roll to the back of his head. fuck did it feel so good.

“H-harder!~ mm.. ngh!~”

His mind was clouded by nothing else but the feeling of your cock inside of him. your tip hits his prostrate for the hundredth time, making him arch his back and clench down.

“Fuuck-“ you grunt. he was like a cat in heat. wanting to get you deeper than you already were. with every thrust you make, you push it in even deeper. your balls slap against him making a loud sound.

“How do you like it getting fucked in public? You want them to watch me fuck your brains out?” you went even deeper. he could feel it in his fucking stomach. his legs were shaking, he was gonna collapse at any moment. your cock makes an evident bulge in his stomach when you thrust.

Your grip on his love handles were surely gonna leave a bruise. you bite down hard on his neck

“G-gonna cum~ ha..ah!” he managed to mutter. you continue on with the same pace while teasing his tip with your thumb, moving your hand up and down while fucking him.

“fuu… ‘m close baby just wait~ clench down harder could you?” as he clenches even more, your cock throbs. the pressure was building up, the lube made it so slippery and warm.

You push in really deep before finally come undone inside him, thick ropes of cum filling him up. your cock gets harder and it feels even tighter inside him as you feel it pulse.

Gojo came with you, some of his cum landing on your hand, some on the food, and the picnic mat. He pants heavily, oh was he tired. But you weren’t done yet, no where near done.

You pull out, receiving a whine from him before you immediately turn him around and thrust back into him within seconds.

“You tired baby?~ we’re not done yet.” you pull out slowly, and slammed it inside again. you lean in for a kiss, sucking his tongue and exploring all of him. no part of him was left untouched.

fuck was it so hot inside of him, your dick was sensitive but it was pleasurable. he was milking your dick so hard. his legs lock you in and pull you even closer.

The food being no longer remembered as you continued to fuck..

Note: Hello, I hope you enjoyed! This is my first request, I’ve been trying to improve my writing style. Please feel free to give suggestions thank you 🫶

©bbykento. please don’t copy, translate, repost my works. reblogs/likes are appreciated!

#x reader #reader insert #male reader #gojo x male reader #dom reader #sub gojo #gojo satoru x male reader

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arachine · 1 year

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u asked so I shall deliver :3

but imagine whiny n fucked out Dave Lizewski omfffhhhgggggg, his hair is a mess n his glasses are falling off, they're all dirty too bc he's handsy! Ik he is! and he tries to grab anything he can on u but u just tut him and tell him to keep his hands to himself, so nowwww he's whining even more, he's begging too atp, all glossy eyes and jutted out lips. I KNOW he's a pretty crier, so why shouldn't u mess with him a lil yk?

moral of the story, Dave. Just Dave.

nghhhhh rina i’m gonna scream SO loud.

warnings: unprotected sex, dacryphilia (i think? cba to check if i included it), whiny dave (like down bad, pussydrunk dave) + so rushed i’m sorry but i need to fr study lol :3

can just imagine him begging to touch you. at first, he tries to bargain with you. asks if he can just ‘hold your hips for a bit’, so you don’t ‘fall off’—as he puts it. but you’re ruthless. all bite and no bark.

“good boys keep their hands to themselves,” you tsk, swatting away his wandering appendage. the admonishment forces a whine from his throat, and he retracts his hand quickly like a child scolded for getting into the cookie jar. “don’t you wanna be a good boy for me, baby?”

“yes—fuck—god, yes. j’st let me touch you, let me h-hold you,” he pleads, and it’s so cute. the knot between his brows, the erythro in his cheeks—the crystalline droplets cascading down his face. it doesn’t take much persuasion to get you to acquiesce; not when he’s beneath you like this. looking up at you like you just hung the stars in the sky. “ok, go ahead, baby. touch me.”

and as soon as you give him the okay, he’s flipping you over onto your back, all muscles and eagerness. grabs the weight of his cock and bullies it into your little hole, unconcerned by your protests and light-hearted pleas for him to slow down.

“easy, ‘m not going anywhere,” you giggle, but it falls on deaf ears because he’s concentrated. focused—on one thing and one thing only—or maybe two things—or a few things: your skin, the rivulets of sweat between your breasts, your eyes—the perfect little ‘o’ shape your mouth makes when he hits that spot just right. yeah, he’s focused.

“babybabybaby, i’m close,” he says in your ear, a mixture of a whine and cry, “please, lemme do it inside. can i? i’ll get you the pill, swear i will, s-swear it!”

and at the nod of your approval, he’s pistoning into you like a rabid thing. all mumbles and whimpers, expletives and grunts. telling you how sweet you are to him, and how lucky he is to have a girlfriend who let’s him finish inside her.

says he’ll, “never fuck another girl again,” while the weight of his hand rests firmly against your jaw, and his lithe fingers maneuver your head to meet his lips. and you know he’s telling the truth—because his eyes are all hazy and glossy. they get like that when he’s close; and they got like that when he declared his love for you some time ago. a tell-tale sign.

“so close, baby. use me, you can do it,” you caress his cheek, clenching once, twice, three times around him in an effort to get him to finish. and it works. he manages a few more lazy thrusts before he’s plopping down onto you with a strangled moan and a sigh.

“about that pill…” he starts, “i only have $10 in my account. don’t think we’re ready to be parents.”

gasping, you raise a hand to yank him back by the hair, “lizewski, get off of me right now.” the brunet chuckles but it only coaxes you to pull tighter at the scalp.

“ow, okay, okay. i was just kidding,” he admits, grabbing at the hand holding his hair by the root, “let me go and i’ll go pick it up.”

“alright, go,” you release him, “but seriously, get off of me. you’re heavy.”

#dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski x reader smut #dave lizewski #tangerine x reader #tangerine x reader smut #aaron taylor johnson #:: — rina bina fo fina 🎀 !#‹ ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*♡‧₊˚𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐝𝐬 ᥫ᭡ .ᐟ ��#:: — LEXI WRITES !

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 3 months

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virgin!Megumi

A/N: Who has time to fuck when they're too busy kickin ass? Also.. Kinda went overboard on this one. Was trying to keep it pg-13, maybe get to a lil nc-17 but ended with straight porn! 🤣🤣

virgin!Megumi isn't really sure how this happened.. He's not blind to the opposite sex. Knows what women think of him, how they stare when he walks by; easily notices his female teammates eye-fucking him as they spar. So why the fuck hasn't he gotten his dick wet yet? Well.. Unfortunately for them, he's more interested in how you see him. "Lookin good, Gumi. Such a fuckin tease, know that? When you gone let me hit?" You whisper in his ear, giggling and smackin his ass when you walk by during his match. 'What. The. Entire. Fuck.' He thinks, gaze fixed on your cute lil wink and sway of your curvy hips. Your beautiful body is unmatched to him, makes him lose focus as he watches you walk away. Can't really be blamed for the way he stares, cheeks warm from your public teasing. It's not his fault he ends up face down in the ground while Yuji does a spit-take, clutching his sides laughing at how Megumi groans and coughs out a mouth full of dirt. "Dude! Never turn your back on your opponent." "No shit, Itadori!" He's half hard and embarrassed as shit right now thanks to you.

virgin!Megumi knows that your lil show of dominance was actually pretty tame- considering your usual antics. He's 100% sure you know about his little predicament and use it to your advantage any chance you get. "Oh what the fuck!" Megumi's shout pulls you downstairs to see what the hells goin on. He looks so cute: got your flower apron on, kitchen towel on his shoulder as he struggles opening a can with damp fingers. "Awww, my poor baby havin some trouble?" You chuckle at him, taking the jar poppin it open with ease, and set it on the counter. "No, it's cause- well obviously I could've done that myself! My hands.. It's just cause my fingers are wet." He sputters but you don't bother payin attention. You're slinkin up to his fine ass, nosing into his pale throat, peckin slow sweet kisses. "Mmm, Gumi. Taste so good. Wonder where else you taste good.." Oh, how he's so willing to let you find out. Your body presses into his side, perky brown titties pushing against his arm, adoring how he immediately comes undone for you. His head tilts as he whines your name, hips jerking as you lick at his skin. "So needy already. Poor thing. Only takes a kiss to your pretty throat.. Now you're ready to buss a big nut for me, huh baby?" He's nodding before you can get the question out. What a goddamn sight.. Megumi holding tight at your waist, dick tenting deliciously as he humps into the air. Fuck, he'd kill every curse on earth just to feel your dainty fingers wrap around him. Why does it always feel so dam amazing when you've barely touched him? "Know what would feel soooo good, princess? If you cum for me, right here- right now." More pretty moans before he gives you an unintelligible "N-not a princess." You smirk, hand creepin up to yank his head back by a fist full of his dark hair and grace him with one last harsh nip. He sounds so pretty when he gives you a loud whiny "Fuck!" Your too fuckin estatic to witness Megumi's eager sounds, pretty face pinched up as shivers run throughout his perfect athletic body. All of his reactions only for you.. So you palm down his thick clothed cock once as a reward. His whimpers are so fuckin pathetic, that paired with the cum stain quickly spreading across the fat bulge in his pants. "Seriously, Megumi?" you laugh heartily, slapping his toned ass once and heading back upstairs. Your boyfriend gazes at your exit with glazed eyes before thumping his head back into the cupboard to stare at the ceiling. "Fuckin woman's gonna be the death of me." He mutters under his breath as shame creeps in once again.

virgin!Megumi loves when you give him lessons on how to please you. As much as he's dying to cram his dick into you, he thinks learning how to make you feel good is so much more important. So Megumi sits on his knees, naked from the waist down on the floor by the foot of the bed; cock harder than it's ever been as he gives himself quick sloppy strokes. He's absolutely engrossed with your fingers playing between your thick cocoa thighs. Bright white teeth clench together at the sight, trapping his dark blue t-shirt in-between. "Y/n, come closer. Please! Wanna see you up close." Words muffled but hopin you understand. You're so preoccupied with the pleasure, eyes closed as you scoot to the edge of the bed to give him a better view of your nude body. You pick up the pace of the 2 fingers slippin in and out of your tight gushy hole. The sounds of your lil puss fill the room, adding to the slaps of his handjob and both of your heavy pants. "Fuuuuck, love when you watch me play with my pussy. Mmm, yeeesss- so good! You like it t-too, right Gumi?" The breathless way you say his name has him agreeing before he can process what your asking. It's the fuckin truth anyway. "So damn perfect, y/n. I swear it. Never seen anyone more beautiful." He vows, leaning in close as you bring your other hand down to rub your clit in quick messy circles. "Ahhh! My Go- getting so close baby. Turnin me on so much. Kiss me! Kiss me Gumi, pleeeeease." Megumi's never heard you sound so submissive, so utterly feminine as you get closer to your high. "Okay, honey, okay.." He springs to his feet, snatchin his shirt over his head before caging your sweaty brown body with his. Feels fucking incredible when his body pins yours to the bed, hard dick pokin at your slit. Removing your hands to clutch at his back as the feeling of his dry humpin amps you up. "Fuck, Gumiiii! Dont wanna rush you, jus- ohmyGod! Cant wait anymore, baby. Just the tip, yeah? Please Gumi, just lemme have the tip!" Those rosy lips melt into yours passionately at your earlier request as well as to silence your filthy mouth before you make him nut, but you can barely keep up. Orgasm hittin so viciously, you're doing more moaning than kissing into Megumi's mouth. And boy does he fucking loves it, inhaling each one as he continues to press his mouth over yours. His body slides repeatedly against your own, itchin to give you his cock. The rough pressure on your clit keeps you mindless as your please alternate between "Please, Gumi, please.." and "dick, just the tip.." 'Fuck it.' He thinks, cock slippin clumsily against your hole before he angles just right and forces the head of his dick between your walls. You're insides suffocate him, hug him lovingly as he immediately gives you 3 jerky thrusts that have you wailing. "Thank you baby. Ah, ah, ah! Th-thank you, so fuckin much!" The way you sound, the wet warmth on his cock.. It's all just so damn nerve-wracking, so mind-blowing and he cant take it anymore. A thunderous groan permeates the room before Megumi goes silent, stiff as a board ontop you when he pulls out to pour his nut out all over your pussy lips. Rubbing your hands down your boyfriend's flushed back soothingly as you feel his hot cum cover your cunt, raining drips down your ass crack. Fuck, what a mess. "Good boy, Megumi. Such a good boy for me." You tell him as he gasps into the side of you neck.

#black reader #black fanfiction #all readers #smut #dirty talk #dom reader #teasing #virgin humiliation #jjk smut #jjk #megumi fushiguro #megumi x black reader #megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #black girl reader #black writer #just the tip

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httpsserene · 7 months

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i've been looking for weeks and months but can't find a single x male reader fic/au/etc... could u spare sum for the boys too😭🤲

ɪ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴡ/ ᴍᴠ33

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: max is over at daniel’s where they're supposed to be doing whatever best buds do. but somehow, the topic of his father comes up, and it brings max to a…realization of sorts. it also causes the two of you to argue, and for several discoveries to be made in the early morning hours; some of the depressing-kind, and some of the heartwarming-and-life-changing-kind. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: angst and fluff (hurt/comfort). argument. jos verstappen's a+ parenting. no beta we die like alphatauri's engines. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: max verstappen x male!reader (race not specified) 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: ivy • frank ocean

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: i *usually* don’t write for male readers (as a cis woman idk i think it’s sus? idk, but maybe it’s not since i do support and love mxm ships, so maybe that’s hypocritical?)....but since it is my first request and max’s birthday (when i started writing this) i figured i could spare sum for da boys :)))) i scrolled through the tag and most of it was f1 x platonic!male!reader which is lowkey depressing, the boys deserve to simp wholeheartedly with us girlies ✊🏽 i hope “the boys” enjoy this and it makes the f1 x male!reader life a lil better! (you also didn’t specify who you wanted, so i went with max bc of his birthday) big shout out to the best kitties in the world, jimmy and sassy, for being great sports in this fic ☠️ they were wonderful setting devices! this is not an accurate description of max’s relationship with his father. we all don’t know what’s going on there, but it did become a wonderful plot point. so, it’ll probably be the only thing jos the boss is good for besides being max’s sperm-donor 🙂.

want to be added to my taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me a message !

prompts from @forestryprompts and @dumplingsjinson

it’s 3:23 AM, and you’re brutally jarred out of your sleep by your phone ringing. you’re disoriented–still in that sleepy “where the fuck am i” stage–and don’t quite catch the first phone call. a few seconds pass by without another call, and you’re convinced you hallucinated. usually, there’s only two reasons for you to be disturbed in the middle of the night. number one, when sassy “accidentally” presses all ten pounds of her body weight into your spleen with one paw; and number two; when max returns from partying, a late flight, or streaming. glancing around, you guess sassy is the bengal curled up on max’s side of the bed, gravitating to where his scent is the strongest as max is over at daniel’s; missing her favorite parent. and you guess that jimmy’s the heat source curled against your feet under the duvet, as that’s his favorite spot to sleep and his favorite place to prey on your toes. you lay straight back, head resting on your pillow and shrug, dismissing it as a problem for the morning.

then another call starts ringing through. now, you’re awake enough to start processing the important information. you always set your phone on dnd when going to bed, and there’s only a few numbers that are set to bypass it during sleep. this ringtone in particular, identifies the caller as max, which is peculiar. max doesn’t disturb your sleep unless absolutely necessary, he already feels guilty enough for doing so when traveling. with that thought, you reach for the phone with a reaction time you’d only relate to your boyfriend’s occupation.

you breathe out, “maxy, baby? are you okay? did something happen?”

a panicked and slightly desperate giggle slips out of the receiver, “heyyyy, it’s daniel, actually–”

“daniel?” you softly exclaim, sitting up in bed, worriedly continuing, “where’s max? did something happen? is he okay–”

“well,” daniel starts, “i wouldn’t say he’s ‘okay’, so to speak–”

“oh my god! what does that mean, daniel? i’m coming over right now give me like, fifteen minutes–” you say rushedly, already leaping out of the bed. jimmy yowls in shock of being disturbed, panically darting out of the duvet, and sassy shoots up–airplane ears activated and all.

daniel cuts you off, “NO! uh, no! i’m actually already on the way back to yours with him right now! he’s like- kinda drunk- tipsy i guess, one would say uh- but–”

“are you driving, daniel? if-if you’ve drank you should’ve let him sleep over, or called me to come get him if he’s being a menace!”

“no, uh-” daniel starts whispering, “we’re in an uber. ma- i mean- your boyfriend is kind of out of it, and not in a drunk way.”

“what the fuck,” you bite out, switching to hold the phone to your ear with your shoulder, as you pull on a pair of sweatpants (max’s) over your boxers, “does that mean, daniel?!”

“so, like,” daniel whispers even quieter, “hypothetically, we started talking about ma- sorry, his- wonderful childhood, and i guess me saying that seeing his father stabbing a mechanic with a fork isn't a normal thing to experience, kind of sent him into a spiral.”

“oh, fuck” you pause, while pulling one of max’s championship hoodies on.

“yeah, that’s pretty much what i’d say,” daniel sighs, “but, then um, he tried to like rationalize it to me? like, he’d bring up different crazy memories, and i’d be like ‘no, mate, that’s not normal either,’ and everytime he’d bring up a positive interaction with his dad, he realized it correlated to how well he performed, and he kind of um-shut down.”

“oh. fuck.” you repeat. sassy, in a rare show of solidarity, winds between your legs and mews gently at you as if she’s letting you know that she’s here. “um, well,” you say, running a stressed hand through your hair, “you should be on max’s list to come up to the apartment, but i’ll call down to give them a heads up. text me when you get here, please?”

“will do,” daniel perks up, “i’m sorry by the way. i should’ve left it alone, or distracted him away from the topic. but you know how he gets, probably better than me.”

now it’s your turn to let a depressing chuckle escape, “probably not, dan. i’ve known him for fourteen years and dated him for five of those, and he hasn’t done more than agree that his dad ‘isn’t perfect’” you wave your hand through the air, brushing the train of thought away, “anyways, i can get the spare room ready for you, so you don’t have to uber back?”

daniel nervously laughs, “forgive me for saying this, but i don’t really want to be present for whatever conversation is going to happen. or have to pretend like i’m unaware of anything. max would do his best to avoid me for as long as he can if he knew i was around, and i don’t want to risk that…after what happened when i left red bull.”

“yeah, you’re right. don’t forget to text me when you get here,” you state.

daniel’s text comes through when you’ve just gathered the ibuprofen and water bottles. you thumbs-up the message, and go to sit in the living room to wait for a knock on the door. you plop down on the couch and your leg bounces anxiously. jimmy gracefully hops up into your lap, and he must be an emotional support cat because he sits down on that leg, and leans into your torso butting his head into your chest asking for pets. you indulge him, a shaky laugh erupting, “thanks, jimmy,” and you lean down to press a few kisses to his cheeks. silence overcomes the room, and then three knocks break the still air in the apartment, and both you and jimmy jump off the couch and race to the entryway. you push jimmy behind you with a foot as you open the door, knowing damn well he’ll sneak into the hallway if given a chance.

max stumbles through the doorway first. his eyes are bloodshot with a cold and unseeing look glazed over them, red-rimmed and looking so distraught at tonight’s realization, that your heart aches for him. you wish you could take his pain away, or at least carry some of it for him. his hair is sticking out in different directions like he was anxiously tugging at it, but the most surprising observation is the tear tracks on his cheeks. max doesn’t cry, like at all.

well, that’s not exactly true. he’s one of the men that says crying is “strong” and not a sign of weakness when you cry and even encourages you to cry it out on his chest. but, when it’s himself, he refuses to cry until everything gets too much. he’ll come up to you and sit or stand pressed right up against you, grabs at and plays with your hand to let you know that he needs comfort, before he looks at you and softly asks with a cracking voice if he can have a hug. you always set aside what you’re doing as quickly as you can, because you’re not going to let an opportunity of caring for max in a rare vulnerable time pass, and pull him into your chest. even though he’s broader than you, he appears to shrink himself within your arms, and presses his face into your shoulder while he cries. his tears are always silent, but his body is loud; he shakes, and his hands grab at whatever you’re wearing in fists like he’s afraid that you’d slip out of his grasp.

anyways, you’ve never known him to really cry with other people. with a soft, “max…” you reach out to him, but he brushes right past your hand and goes straight for the bedroom. jimmy trots after him, and sassy falls into step from whatever pocket she was hiding in. you freeze, shocked at his behavior while also understanding, he’s had a life-changing realization that he’s never allowed himself to address. you feel guilty that you're jealous of the fact that he had it with daniel.

daniel clears his throat, still standing outside the doorway, “...you know he doesn’t mean to ignore you like that, right?”

you nod, “when did he start crying?”

“he held it together until we got into the uber, i think. he was turned towards the window the whole time and refused to look at me. i didn’t notice he cried until we got out.”

“are you sure you don’t want to stay the night? it’s late, dan. or at least let me get you the uber back” you offer again with a questioning look.

daniel refuses both options, “nah, don’t worry about it. i’ll make max take me to lunch one day to pay me back. i’d say good luck but that seems redundant. be gentle with him, alright?”

you sigh, “i’ll be gentle, dan. can’t say the same for him,” daniel’s face saddens more, “get home safe alright, dan? text me when you get there.”

“of, course,” daniel nods, “goodnight.”

you watch him walk into the elevator before closing the door. you turn the lock, and step forward until you can rest your forehead onto the cool wood. eventually, you push off the door and turn around to grab the water and ibuprofen from the settee and make your way to the bedroom. max is sitting at the foot of the bed, elbows on his knees and his head resting in his hands.

pausing, you place the water and meds on the nightstand first, then you sit next to him and lightly place your hand on his upper back, attempting to rub between his shoulder blades to provide comfort. max shrugs your hand off. you pause, blinking a few times trying to discover the best course of action. you decide to ignore the second blatant dismissal of the night, and pull his hand off his face and push him to sit up straight. you forcefully straddle his lap, ignoring his grumbles, and grab his face, thumbs resting on his cheeks and directing him to look straight at you.

“max, you’ve got to communicate with me here. i was terrified, when daniel called me! you refuse to talk about your dad with me, which is fine, okay? but you have to talk to somebody. whether it’s me, daniel, a therapist, christian, or even fucking helmut marko—you need to talk to someone. you’ve repressed this shit your whole life, and when whatever film you had over your eyes when looking at your father slipped away, you shut down completely? that can’t happen again! i don’t want it to happen again…daniel sounded completely fucking terrified—like he was afraid he broke you or something. and if you’re scaring me right now with how-h-how out of it you look, i can’t imagine what it was like for him,” you finish, taking a few deep breaths. max doesn’t say anything, just stares at you blankly.

you make a distressed groan, both hands releasing max’s face to rub at your eyes and drag down your cheeks. doing so, you continue talking, “max. you don’t even have to talk, baby, not to me at least. i don’t care if you journal, if you meditate, if you go goddamn axe throwing; but, you need to see a professional. cause, how your brain is coping, and how you’re rationalizing it isn’t good. you aren’t the problem, nothing you could’ve done differently would have made your dad change; you are not the problem, max, he is. okay? i’ve known you for fourteen years, and not once have i pressured the topic after you said that ‘you’re fine,’ but, you have to at least promise me that you’ll start doing something.”

max parts his lips, thinking about what to say, as you fully sit on his lap. you look at him with wide eyes filled with worry—with care— and you’re anxiously playing with the hairs on the nape of your neck.

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

“that’s not an option,” you state, with a furrowed brow, “can you at least tell me what caused the breakdown?”

and, that’s what gets get’s max going. his cheeks flush, and his eyes darken, and he starts talking with a firmer voice.

“it wasn’t a breakdown, first of all. i was just overwhelmed and overreacting. it’s nothing serious, like you’re pretending it is. i don’t need this—this false worry, showing up all of sudden when you know how the relationship between my father and i has been for all of the time we’ve known each other.”

you pull away, retreating off his lap and stand in front of him with your arms crossed over your chest.

“false worry?? that’s what you think this is,” you start with an exasperated tone, “max, ‘for all the time we’ve known each other’ all you’ve done is deflect from my questions about you two, or tell me that everything is fine when it’s clearly not! and i gave you the space you wanted, because i was afraid that you’d stop talking to me, that you’d stop trusting me. but now, as your boyfriend, i can’t let it go unaddressed anymore!”

“you already did for fourteen years! it shouldn’t be that difficult for you to keep ignoring it.”

“because you asked me to, max! you didn’t want to talk about it then, and you need to talk about it now! i don’t give a fuck if you don’t want to share it with me, but it needs to be with somebody!”

“i already told you I didn’t want to talk about it, yet you keep insisting!”

“that’s because i fucking care about you!”

“well, did i ask for you to care about me?”

you’re stunned silent. the room is filled with heavy breaths from the two of you. this might be the most serious argument you’ve had, in awhile, or ever.

it’s the third blatant dismissal of the night, and you’re calling it quits, daniel did tell you to be gentle, and if you keep going like this you’re word choice will become less gentle.

“you’re right,” you exhale, relaxing your clenched jaw, “you didn’t ask for me to care. and you shouldn’t have to ask for anybody to care. and, for some ‘unbelievable’ reason, i do happen to actually care,” you finish, your words dripping with exhaustion and defeat.

you walk around to the side of the bed, grabbing a pillow off the top and point at the nightstand, “the ibuprofen and water are for you. at least, finish one bottle before you go to bed, please.” you start walking towards the closet.

“wait,” max calls out, finally standing up with a confused look in his eyes, “why’d you grab a pillow?”

you grab a blanket out of the closet, and sigh, “i’m sleeping on the couch.”

“what? no-no you’re not,” max stutters out, disbelieving.

“uh, yes i am.”

“what, no! no, schatje, i’m sorry, please come to bed,” max utters out, looking absolutely heartbroken.

“i’m going to sleep on the couch, max,” you repeat, “if i go to bed, i won’t be able to not talk about it, and we’re clearly going to talk in circles about it. both of us are tired, frustrated, and mad, and we’re going to end up even angrier, so i’m going to sleep on the couch.”

max, crossing the room quickly, grabs at your waist with his large hands, and pleads, “if you’ve made up your mind about it, you can at least take the bed, i’ll sleep on the couch, schat.”

you, grab his hands off your waist, having to fight him a little bit for it (you may be a man, but your man is a professional athlete, you’ll be outmatched any day) and press them into his chest, “you’re still pretty drunk, max. i’ll let you take the bed so you can be comfortable, you seem like you’re going to have a pretty bad hangover, i can smell the alcohol on you still.”

max looks upset, but eventually concedes. you press your lips to his cheek, “i’ll see you in the morning, babe. then, with clearer minds we can talk, ‘kay?”

sassy baps jimmy on the face before nuzzling in between max’s legs, while jimmy makes to follow you out as you shut the door gently.

situating yourself on the couch, you squeeze your eyes shut. usually you’d be hugging max’s arm to your chest but tonight, jimmy is benevolent enough to leave his usual spot at your feet to fill in for max. even with the comfort the bengal’s purring body provides, you know you’re only in for a fitful night of sleep.

you wake up a few hours later, your body not able to keep you under for long you guess, as the early morning sun has barely started lightening the room. you take a minute to get your bearings, not used to waking up on the couch (in the past when you have accidentally fallen asleep on the couch, you magically wake up in bed laying on top of your boyfriend, how weird), and jimmy is no longer laying with you. he’s with max, who’s sitting on his floor below you, with his back facing you.

you rub at your eyes and whisper, “max?” he startles, and turns around to face you. his eyes have fresh bags underneath, his hair is still slightly damp from a shower, and you can tell he hasn’t gotten any sleep. even though you got a couple hours of shut-eye, the matching bags under your eyes prove that your sleep was restless.

“hey,” he whispers back sheepishly, “i know you told me to go to bed, but i couldn’t fall asleep. i only came out here a few minutes ago though, and i was just going to wait until you woke up in the morning.”

you sit up straight, and pull max onto the couch with you, “max, what? you could’ve at least layed down on the other couch, and not sit on the–”

max cuts you off.

“i just…couldn’t go to bed alone tonight, okay? i still feel raw–i think is the word for it. i’m exhausted and cried out, and the only person who can make me feel better is you right now. so i was just going to sit here, and be next to you, without disturbing you like you wanted, because being in your general vicinity already makes me feel better, even if you're mad at me.”

your mouth is left gaping, and you feel guilty now, your chest aches. leaving max at a time where he was vulnerable, even if you were right down the hallway–

“and, don’t feel bad about your decision to sleep out here. you decided that space was the best course of action for you, and you are probably right, because i was ready to argue with you,” max continues rambling, “honestly, you sleeping out here made me realize that i never want you to be angry with me like that, ever again. at first, i was scared that if i opened up about my relationship with my dad you would think i’m weak, or that you'd judge me for it, or that you’d leave me. but when i was in the shower earlier, i got really…scared.”

he pauses, taking a few deep breaths and you don’t make to interrupt him.

“i got scared because i thought you left me right now. that you lied to me about sleeping on the couch, and you were actually planning to leave. and, obviously you did not, you are still here right now but, it made me realize that i do need to talk to you. and that the reason i thought you were leaving was because of how i thought i scared you away with my issues. but i realize now, that the way i’ll scare you away is by not talking about my issues,” he turns to look at you with an earnest expression.

“so, if you are okay with it, i will talk to you. about everything, even though it may take me some time to work up the courage. i am uncomfortable with talking to a…professional, but i will, if you truly think it will help me. but i do not want to risk the chance that my refusal to communicate costs me a lifetime with you,” he ends.”

you stare at him blankly, and max begins to fidget at your silence. you lean forward and pull him into a hug, tears gathering in your eyes. he nestles his head in the crook of your neck, and presses gentle kisses into your skin.

“max, all i want is for you to talk to me about it. i want to share the burden you feel, and understand you better than the back of my hand. most of all, i hope having somebody who understands you to that depth makes you feel lighter, and validates your emotions.”

max says something, but it’s muffled by your body.

“what was that, baby?”

max pulls away to look at you with bashful eyes and pinkened cheeks, “you know i can’t imagine my life without you.”

“likewise,” you respond, just as meek.

“no, really. i've fallen in love with you,” he continues.

“max, you told me you loved me years ago,” you say laughingly.

“no, like, i’ve fallen in love with you again. everytime i think i can’t fall any deeper, you manage to prove me wrong,” he says intensely.

you pout at him, hands coming up to feel at your heated cheeks, “oh, max! stop, you’re going to make me cry. that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. i fall in love with you again, everytime you finish a race, and come home to me. that you chose me as the man you want to see after a tiring race weekend, regardless of the outcome.

max smiles all teeth, “there’s no other person i want to share my highs and lows with. well, hopefully more highs than lows. i have the ring for you already, but i at least need to win eight championships before i retire so you’re able to marry a record-breaking champion. i am proposing to you this year though, i cannot wait any longer.”

you stare at him unseeing for a minute, and he looks awfully confused for a man who just announced his plans to give you his last name.

“max,” you start shakingly, “what do you mean you already have the ring?”

max’s carefree expression drops, and becomes pale, “what are you talking about? i never said anything about a ring–”

“you literally just did?! the part before you said you were proposing to me this year, and before becoming an eight-time world–”

max claps, cutting you off while standing up. he offers you his hand, “alright! we should go to bed now, right? together, yes that’s a great idea.”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 7 months

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the post-ruin Readerbot AU, where Readerbot wakes up from a nice lil nap to. Well. Ruin. And two new,, friends?

You were in a charging stasis during the events of Security Breach and were trapped there until the events of Ruin, completely unaware of what's happened. You remember the animatronics beginning to act oddly, and, of course, Moon, and maybe a weird security guard, but waking up to the 'Plex in shambles, the Glamrocks far beyond broken, and not a single human person in sight... That's a bit jarring, to say the least.

The very first thing you are greeted with upon powering on is, of course, a couple thousand error codes and 'emergency repair' alerts that have just been waiting for you to turn on to bombard you with a nice helping of sensory overload <3 The next? A mini musicman running at you full speed, not slowing down or swerving, hitting you directly in the shins and knocking you flat on your ass. Congrats! Your head has been re-broken. Welcome back to the pizza-plex, bitch. :)

You wander around the 'plex, too confused and shocked by the, y'know, everything, to even begin to think about what they should panic over first. You cross paths with Chica, who doesn't even acknowledge you, and Monty, who only growls as you pass by, then... You stop in your tracks. Technically, you've never been in the daycare, it was always off-limits. But a lot of your old protocols have expired... And you've always been curious...

You barely step into the ruined-daycare before nearly being knocked over by a familiar, and equally as unfamiliar, attendant.

Eclipse assumes you are there to help clean up the daycare! And he's so polite, and he reminds you a lot of Sun, with a little of Moon's mischievousness (this, admittedly, is much more harmless than Moon's had been, but the comparison is still there)...

Y- yeah of course you're there to help! Just lead the way!!

Eclipse seems extremely relieved to have someone to talk to- he must not be used to being on his own?- and, really, he ends up not... letting you do much. He doesn't want you to wear yourself out, and that's much to heavy to ask you to carry, and what if something fell or broke and you got damaged?? Management hasn't been answering any messages yet, who knows how long it would be until they could get you fixed properly!! :( (Mostly you just stand there and nod as he talks, or maybe holding something small and unimportant while he does the actual work. It's... endearing, but your inner staffbot is restless and sad at having nothing to do.)

Eventually, you come up with a compromise- you'll be his emotional support assistant while he works on fixing up the daycare, in the mean time, you'll fix the electrical issues and patch him up as you find more and more materials to do so. He seems pleased enough, and, you realize after a while, starts to really like being fixed up.

Then, one day, while scavenging around, you find a busted arcade cabinet. You go to take a look to see if it has anything worth repurposing, and the next thing you know you're waking up on the floor in front of cabinet as it smolders and melts. Well, there wasn't likely to be anything worth taking, anyway.

You realize later that you've picked up a sort of... virus. It's more like you picked up another passenger, a new voice to live inside your own head when before there had been just yours.

He's... strange. It takes him a little while to realize that you can hear him and respond to his voice, but when he does, he seems pleased. He's not exactly a chatterbox in the same way Eclipse is, but he has lots of questions and lots of ideas. The only issue is, well, to be honest, they aren't very good.

It surprises you, the first time he tells you to do something. "Push him over the edge," he demands as you stand behind Eclipse on top of one of the taller structures in the daycare. It wouldn't decommission him, but it would surely break at least one of his limbs. No, no, that was a bad idea, you thought to yourself. "But he's always been more loved than you, hasn't he? Don't you just want to see him suffer even just a fraction as much as you have over these years? Don't you want to break him to a dozen little, helpless pieces?"

Well, no, not really.

"Fine. Have it your way. One of these days, he's going to hurt you, just as he did before. And you're going to WISH you had listened to me."

When you finally got to the point of realizing this other voice WAS an entire other AI currently residing in the slim gaps yours left behind, one of the first things you did was ask him what he was called. It seemed only polite, after all.

"Eclipse."

Huh. That was going to get confusing.

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aconflagrationofmyown · 8 months

Text

Even Goldish in the Privacy of Bowls do it

A Sarge & lil Mama episode

circa 1966 (yes this got moved a little from original shooting time of the movie hinted at here-in, shh)

Elvis Presley x original character -chart refresher for kid’s ages HERE

Warnings: 18+ -y’all, this is perhaps my most unhinged attempt at chaos yet. Finally we’re getting to see more of the kids, maybe more than wanted when a man’s just trying to grab a quickie in the shower with his wife. Warnings include unhinged family chaos, filthy smut, Elaine using firearms, brief mention of animal death by gunshot, brief mention of implied young children sleeping in their parents bed/bedroom while past sexual activities may have taken place, and -PLEASE NOTE- multiple references to an eating disorder on Elvis’ part. Troubling issues like this are integral to him and his mindset at the time so I include them, but please be aware there’s language in here that’s dismissive and condoning at times by certain individuals, just as it’s pleaded against by others. Along with brief body issues and shaming. Just a caution.

Word count: 12k -hope ya missed my tomes lol

Thanks: ever so much thanks is owed to many for their help and support but particularly to the dolls who made this so much better worse with their suggestions. Calling out @missmaywemeetagain @elvisabutler @eliseinmemphis @ab4eva @stylespresleyhearted

Summary: when Elaine visits the Colonel’s bungalow early on a Hawaiian dawn to defend her man and his appetite for her fried chicken -bringing along a loaded firearm for emphasis- the pelicans aren’t the only things startled.

Seven o’clock in the balmy hours of a Hawaiian morning, a solitary gunshot broke the peaceful silence and sent the beach birds squawking into the jungle’s dense foliage.

As seven AM was an ungodly hour of the day to expect anything from a human being, Elvis Presley was still in bed, asleep, and finally settled into that sorta circadian rhythm that helped him sleep through nightmares, alarm clocks, voracious wives and the pokes and prods of three to five children in his bed.

But a gunshot was jarring enough he swam to the surface of consciousness long enough to fling an arm out and pat Laney’s sweet ass and mumble an inquiry as to wether she had any clue why someone was shooting a gun in fuckin’ Hawaii. Especially as he, the only one likely to do so, was, quite obviously, in bed with her.

Except Laney’s sweet flesh wasn’t anywhere to be grabbed the more he flailed his arm in the cold sheets and, with a sudden bolt of terror, Elvis sat up and searched about the room only to find her gone. Jack was, predictably, still clinging to the same pillow Elvis had mistaken as her. He felt a little validated by that.

Two more gunshots punctuated his growing alarm and before two seconds had passed he was flying out of bed despite the way Jack’s legs clung to him and he exited the bungalow door with nothing but his silk night shorts on and espadrilles.

“Laney? The hell are you, woman?” he bellowed out the veranda with caring bravado.

No answer. Which didn’t mean much but it was harder to shake shit like this since the recent uptick in hate crimes and the way those girls had jumped her at their own gate last summer. His knuckles ached at the mere memory of the pummeling he’d given those tarts’ car hood. Nothing funny or harmless about it.

“Laney!”

Jesse barreled out shortly after and stood beside Elvis with a mimicking pose of concern, staring out at the beach with his hands on his hips, surveying the glittering water in the fresh sun’s rays and the undisturbed sand for miles. She wasn’t anywhere to be seen for that long stretch of golden beach.

“You seen your mother?” he asked Jesse sternly.

“No sir, didn’t hear her go out either. She not in bed?”

“No, and I didn’t hear her either. Neither did Jack and he’s always wound round her like a sloth to a branch.”

“Maybe she’s the one doin’ the shootin.” Jesse ventured with a mild expression of hope.

Father and son were both recalling when Elaine had given Elvis ample complaint and ample warning to do something about his reprobate pet chimp and when nothing was done and a child was harmed, Laney stalked into the den where Elvis and the boys were going over rehearsals and asked if he’d like to do the honors of shooting the damn monkey. When he laughed her off she trumped upstairs and the next thing Elvis knew was Tink clipping past the den and out the front door in her heels with his shotgun in her hand, while poor, unfortunate Scatter was being carried by the scruff of his sailor costume.

By the time Elvis caught up with her she’d put five holes in the hairy little pervert. To be perfectly honest he was aghast at such overriding of his jurisdiction but it didn’t prevent him from appreciating that when she meant business, she meant it.

So, it was plausible Laney was shooting something at seven am, and that was one of the reasons Elvis loved her. The only trick was, there was no Scatter here, no enemies in the general vicinity for her to be shooting at.

Elvis commented as much to his young son in grave deliberation.

“ ‘Cept for the colonel.” Jesse pointed out blithely and at that excellent observation all of Elvis’ blood felt like it rushed to his brain and pounded within like a tribal drum.

“Oh sweet merciful Jesus-“ Elvis wheezed and took off from his porch in a sprint along the beach hedges, towards the colonel’s adjacent bungalow, the roof of which -now that he was looking- appeared to have smoke coming out of its abnormally saggy thatch.

“She didn’t like it when he called ya fat yesterday!” Jesse was still hell bent on a little redeeming PR and Elvis waved at him with the back of his hand in acknowledgment that, if Laney was murdering, it would be for him.

And his fat self.

And for the reputation of her fried chicken that Elvis had been laying off of ever since he got so damn pudgy no director would hire him without contractually asking for a little casual bulimia on the side.

It was all part of the business, the snow job of an available and attractive man made harder by the real life presence of a wife and brood of children. The addition of a decidedly fatherly gut wasn’t gonna make them money.

He got it. Laney didn’t.

He tried to jog faster through the sand before she put her fingerprints all over the scene.

Inside the bungalow Elaine fanned the smoke out of her face with red tipped fingers and kept her diction very clipped as was most effective with this self consumed weasel.

“Am I understood? No more sedation and no more starvation and stop recommending those damn uppers that keep him buzzing while his body goes undernourished.”

Elaine still gripped the shotgun barrel, right there by the racker thingy but Parker had watched this woman long enough to know that if he agreed, then she would be pacified enough, he’d live to see another day.

“I get you, Mrs. Presley,” he assured in a pleasing tone, one that always suggested she started this long war between them, “no more. It was the business I was thinking of, it is my role. And yours is to nurture. You cannot expect me to have the same leniency as a wife, but I bow to your superior discretion.”

“You’ve kept him from home, colonel, robbed him and my children of valuable time together just because he knows he’ll be tempted to eat when he’s home. You’re a cruel, heartless Scrooge, that’s what you are. And this ain’t over.”

“It was merely business, Elaine.” he looks close to crying and she feels tempted to blast another shell into his roof.

“It's not your fault Colonel,” she steadied herself and he always liked how she was not so emotional like some women, even if she was icier than Elvis would ever admit, “I wouldn’t expect you to know what appeals to women, you never had the chance to appeal to them yourself. But I’ll tell you now, just for your excelsior betterment, some women like a sturdier man, some women like more cheeks on their husband, and your gravest omission when thinking of his appeal -a slight ponch rubs ever so delightfully on a woman’s clitoris when making love. You have heard of those, haven’t you? Maybe not, I’ll leave you to peruse the encyclopedia. It’s under C.”

Elvis got smacked in the face by the opening door as she stepped out right as he barreled in.

“Good morning honey, why on earth are you awake?” she greeted blithely as the door swung behind her and she raked his bed head back into place with her hands.

“Because you were shootin’ up the damn island.” he cried, “The hell’s goin’ on, Tink? You kill the colonel?”

“No. Of course not.” she rolled her eyes, “I’m just on a roll, keeping varmints in their places. It was his turn.”

“What’s he done wrong?” Elvis was aghast.

“Oh honey we haven’t got the time for all that on such a perfect morning.” she laughed instead, “C'mon back to bed, when you wake up again I’ll make you your favorite.”

“I can’t have flap jacks right now, Laney, you know that.” he mumbled sullenly as they turned back to the path leading to their own bungalow.

“Yes you can.”

“Says who?”

“Says the woman who owns ya before God, that’s who.” Elaine retorted sharply and he sucked in a breath in appreciation of the vindictive mood still clinging to her. He should chastise her for her language but right now he didn’t wanna shift the mood. The racked gun at her side may have added to the thrill a little.

“You’re real pretty totin’ that thing around in just your kaftan.” he complimented

“Oh Naughty.” she breathed, a little blush flaring on her face. His simple little sweetnesses still getting to her far more than any of his wiles or spice.

“Really, just so pretty, sun’s gettin’ in your hair like it’s what it got up to do this mornin’. S’all gold.”

“Oh naughty, hush.” Elaine felt a fit of compliments coming on and was a little rusty at receiving them, truth be told.

“Why can’t I tell ya you’re pretty?” he laughed.

“You can.” she shook her head in amusement and tried to keep walking but his narration stalled her a few steps down the path.

“Your legs are gold too.” he was saying “Is this like your witchin’ hour or somethin? Do I gotta get up at ass crack a’dawn to catch ya like this?”

“I am in a kaftan, Elvis. And this is hawaii, hardly a new sight.” Elaine laughed herself.

“Yeah, and the sun sure goes right through it.” he was admiring the way her legs were shapely shadows under the cream linen, the illuminating ball of fire in the sky giving him a little show. “Is this how early I gotta get up to see this?”

“You’re sleep deprived, that’s why you’re so astounded by a woman in a kaftan, c’mon and I’ll help ya get back to sleep.”

“No, no I don’t wanna go inside yet.” he objected like a child in the middle of his construction when the dinner bell goes off, “There’s kids inside.”

“Yeah there are.” Elaine’s lip curled in wry amusement.

“Colonel gets ya alone but I don’t.” he wasn’t saying it accusingly, just a contemplative pout and Elaine shaded her eyes to watch his face as he stood in front of the glittering ocean, so bright its reflective rays were almost painful this early in the day. “Why’ve we got so many damn kids.” he joked, “Hardly see ya.”

“Aww well I’m here now.” she was touched and a little confused by this mood but she sauntered up to him, leaning the shotgun against a dune marker, and put her arms around him.

That seemed to be the right course of action as he gave her one of those soft little expressions that weren’t smiles so much as they were bashful little cheek scrunches of recognition. The extra cheeks on him made the expression almost intolerably cherubic. “You got up to blow his roof off but..” he can’t accuse her of not getting up to be with him, that was a damn lie, Elaine somehow managed a schedule that fit both the normal world’s waking hours and incorporated in his bizarre nocturnal clock, he very rarely was awake while she was asleep although the same couldn’t be said for him and this morning it nagged him, what little pleasant nothings he might be missing at seven in the morning.

“It don’t make a habit of it,” she reminded softly, “he just needed a talking to. It’s like spanking or putting a child to bed, never meant to disturb you and was gonna slip right back in next to you.”

“Yeah well, three gunshots kinda have the opposite effect, woman.” he shook her shoulders playfully.

“Well I think I got the message across.”

“What was the message?”

“I-“ Elaine paused to restructure her complaint into the mildest terms possible to preserve his sleepy temper and the peaceful scenery around them. “It’s kinda like you were saying with me! I miss you, the children miss you and it’s got nothing to do with movies and making money. You’re tired from the pills and from the starving and -lord, if I see you excuse yourself after one of my meals one more time just to hear you gaggin’ it right up, I’ll-“ she couldn’t quite finish that, wasn’t sure what she’d do but the most constructive thing she could think of after hearing it last night before bed was to visit the colonel and put some fear of God in him.

“How’d you-“ he scratched the back of his neck, sheepish.

“Oh heavens Elvis!” she pinched his cheek, “It’s the oldest one in the book for us women, when I didn’t shift the weight in two months after having a second set of twins it was recommended to me by all the other wives. Just because it’s old or common doesn't make it healthy and I’m just saying that if you’re unhappy and wanna fit in your old slacks then so be it, I’ll feed ya salads and cut down on the butter but there ain’t a single movie producer I’m gonna let stipulate or pay you to starve yourself. Sweet Jesus I- I know you like looking pretty but for god’s sake! You are! You are pretty, you’re Elvis Pretty Presley for the love of God and what are your children gonna think growin’ up watchin’ you treat yourself this way? It isn’t business, no! No! It isn’t! Hush up! It’s not! Business can be constructive or destructive and Christian business only builds up. Actin’ like a pagan by starvin’ your bodily temple that the Lord gave ya isn’t gonna sell us more movies.”

“You done?” he asked her after letting out a long whistle.

“No not quite,” she cooled her tone a little but stopped her hug to cross her arms and hug herself defensively, “Marlon told me they’ve been asking the same from him and he told them to go- well, you know. And they did. They’re still casting him in serious roles even if he’s not a breathing Adonis. They should be castin’ you in movies about human life not posin’ you like some cut out in a storyline.”

“Brando told ya this?”

“Yeah.” she said, “Because Brando’s manager does what he’s supposed to. I was just reminding the colonel that he is *your* manager which means he’s supposed to be your advocate not your damn jailor!”

“Sheesh alright,-“

“Elvis! It’s serious! I mean if Marlon-“

“God!- stop all this talkin’ about Brando, dammit!” Elvis bellowed and Elaine flushed bright red for an instant and it made him do a double take, thinking he saw a flicker of something new there but in an instant it was gone and -this was Laney, it couldn’t have been there in the first place, “Lord ya need to cool off.” he muttered.

He saw Elaine heave in a deep breath and cup her hand over her nose in that tell-tale way she had when she was regaining her control, started with the nose then the hand would go to the lips and then drop as she shook it out like casting out the damn emotions it collected before it fell to her side, diamond ring glinting in the morning light.

He wanted to say he missed her again, but that felt redundant. Instead he busied himself with observing how pretty she was and before he could voice that again, her eyes cleared and she smirked at him.

“Last one in is chicken.” she dared him before taking off over the sand, headed for the decently violent surf.

That was an old trick of hers, when shit became too real she just- played, instead. He felt it was for his benefit but maybe not, maybe it kept them both sane. He was as fond of the old trick as he had been the first time she pulled it in the studio back in ‘56. Elvis caught up to her about three paces from the surf and managed to swing her up in his arms and crash into the water together. After that first gasp inducing plunge and the salty sting up the nose, the water became a sparkling friend to them, and holding onto each other they surfaced and bobbed for a brief time, enjoying the sounds of the island waking up.

“So I guess I gotta get up at the crack a’dawn to do this with ya.” he griped again and pouted into her neck.

Elaine laughed and stroked the curling hair at the base of his neck, “If you want to escape the heat of the day and catch this lighting, then yes, yes you do. Otherwise, I’m here anytime you want me.”

“Why’d we make so many people!” his face puckered playfully for a moment, “I miss you!”

“I dunno, just sorta happened.” she fibbed herself and after a moment of disbelief he caught the joke and laughed too.

“I-I mean I try to be a good father-“

“You’re an excellent father .” Elaine butted in sternly.

“a-and part of that is bein’ with ‘em and I do try,” he laid his head back partially and let the water buoy him, “whatever you may say, I do try, but when I try I-I well, I let Daisy give me a haircut because she had her heart set on it and then when I get to the film set I’m told that was a ‘dis-reee-spectful’ thing to have done. I just can’t figure out how to manage what everyone wants from me. Just can’t figure it out.”

“Elvis, I don’t know why you’re caring so much what a half a dozen crusty old men say.” Elaine murmured, “Especially not when your wife finds your haircut rather fetchin’ and thinks the meat on your bones feel real nice when you’re up against me.”

“Oh?” Elvis tipped his head back up and seemed to register their close proximity for the first time. As if a switch had been flipped it seemed to be all his eyes could process, the material of her transparent kaftan clinging to what parts of her torso he held out of the water by his hold on her thighs and- Elaine thought it sweet how sometimes her man had a singular track in his mind and that was for sex, but just as singular could be some other focus and a near naked woman wouldn’t strike his as suggestive at such a time until he was made to notice. “Oh, Laney!” his eyes lit up as he surveyed his wife and then the coastline behind her, “Hell, baby, we’re alone, we’re genuinely alone!”

“I know.” her voice couldn’t keep from pitching low as she tightened her legs around his padded hips and watched in awed appreciation for the way his face’s coloring looked like it belonged in the blush splashed sea. “Seven am, for the lighting and for -the solitude.”

“Oh I like the lighting.” he muttered as if to himself as he swayed closer, eyes glued to her wettend lips. “And I like not havin’ all those damn people around. You get it don’t you?”

“Yes I do.”

“You tired of our friends?” he asked.

That could be trick question so she carefully shrugged it off, “Not really, you?”

“Not really just-“ Elvis pondered for a bit, his full cheeks squishing his mouth up and he looked the closest to his babyish self when he had married her than he had in ten years. “It’s just always so crazy ‘round us and I -I want more of this. Just not at seven am. I’ve got a naked woman in the ocean and I’m so sleepy I can’t even stay on track to get in her!” and he laughed ruefully.

“You can just kiss me?” she begged, “Kiss me and we’ll get you back to sleep.”

As if he knew what kind of his kisses she’d been missing most in this fast paced life -for Elvis Presley had many different kinds of kisses for Mrs. Presley- Elvis brushed her hair off her face with gentle care before thumbing at her throat, making her pulse jump from the swipe of his thumb before he brought his lips nearer and nearer as her own trembled and puckered in anticipation until after painful restraint those two plush pillows caressed her own. And stayed. And stayed.

Stayed until the screech of a car peeling out on the path they'd just abandoned made Elaine look up and she saw the Colonel’s conveyance speeding inland after breaking to view their little rendezvous.

“I’m sure we cut a rather scandalous figure in here.” she realized.

“Where’s the scandal when you’re married?” Elvis scoffed. “Besides, not even the paps want a picture of me when I’m this fuckin pudgy-“

“-oh not this again!” Elaine growled, kneading said pudge with vigor as if it would get her point through him better.

“Laney, you're sick in the head, we’ve established this already.” he replied, teasing yet not entirely unserious, “What appeals to you ain’t a rule for the rest of the world.”

“Ha.” she tossed her head back, “Let’s talk about trends then. The trend is towards beefier, hairier men, less of this pristine crooner image, more of the beefcake -Redford, Bogart, that sorta thing.” Learning her lesson on the beach, she omitted Brando from the list.

“Neither of those men are fat.”

“And neither are you.”

“But I don’t look like a star no more-“

“-oh, oh trust me,” she crowed, “if you got yourself a role where you could play a man, a real , raw, gritty man, theaters would be forced to change their seat cushions.”

Elvis scoffed again but asked again with helpless curiosity, “W-what kinda man? I mean, I’m playing real men, honey. Whadda ya even mean, Tink?”

Elaine kneaded his shoulders and pondered the earthy, sultry lines of his face and the heft of his chest beneath her hands, “A working man.” she admitted. “Salt of the earth working man. A man they show working. That’s what I mean.”

“Want me to play a mailman or somethin?” he rolled his eyes. “Real innovative, honey. I’ve been a race car driver, a-a-a Cowboy, I-I’m playin’ a pilot now-”

“I mean a hefty, strong working man who crawls out from under a sink he just fixed and lays a lonely housewife on her husband’s table and gives her something to keep her company at night.” Elaine rasped in his ear.

She felt the gust of his shocked gasp against her wet ear. “Hell, Laney,” he choked, “this-this somethin’ you wanna play?” he sounded scandalized and eager all at once.

“Always, when you’re ‘in this state’, my dear.” she murmured, thumping at his back significantly.

“Hell mama, I could lay you out good.” he swore, going back in for another searing, messy kiss.

“Is everything alright boss?” a yell from the shore startled them both and Elvis fumbled with his grip on Laney’s ass to lower her further in the water for modesty’s sake.

“You’re a lil late, Jerrah.” he snarked back at his friend who was investigating gunshots from fifteen minutes ago. “But yeah, yeah all’s fine.”

“Yeah, yeah ok,” Jerry hollered back, slowly backing away from the beach and up to the hedges, “I can see that. That it’s alright, I mean, like, I can see y’all are very alright. I mean, yeah ok, I’ll go.”

“Why’s he actin’ so prissy.” Elvis grumped but began to ease them both out of the surf anyway.

“You know why it is.” Elaine’s color heightened and Elvis’ grin grew wildly proud. “We were mauling each other a bit.”

“Oh you’re thinkin’ of those early days, hmm? Fresh back from Europe and alllll the world clutchin’ their pearls over how much we loved each other. Fuck ‘em.”

“Elvis!” Elaine prostested, amused yet aghast, “We gave them some cause!”

“Yeah buddy we did.” his tone held masculine admiration for the memories of leading Tink away to a darkened alcove in her pretty jewels and silks and taking her up against one of the ‘Cabana’s marble pillars. He’d had to move so slowly not to attract notice that it was practically cockwarming with a little jive to it.

“Don’t forget the boat.” she pointed out as if she knew he was hung up on another memory.

“Ooh, oh the boat.” he clutched his chest as if she’d brought up the fondest of memories and he was an old man reviewing the best in the twilight of his life, “God you looked so damn good in those photographs, Laney.”

“Elvis! It’s not a proud thing to be the first “indecent” photograph on the cover of Life Magazine.”

“We were fully clothed! They’d no idea what-“

“Yeah, yeah just a man casually playing hoola hoop behind his wife, I’m sure. That stupid captain’s hat,” she pretended to bemoan, “if you wouldn't have been wearing that I coulda resisted and we wouldn’t be on Life.”

“Five years ago, ‘bout time to give ‘em a refresher on the faces you make when lil Elvis is hittin’ the spot.” he snickered at his own joke as she swatted him towards the stairs to their bungalow.

“Five years is not sufficient to dim for me the awful talking to the colonel gave us that night.” Elaine retorted wryly and watched Elvis’ broad back shiver at the recollection before he jiggled up the steps in just his soaked silk night shorts. She stayed below for a moment just to enjoy the dripping, meaty sight of him.

“Lord mama, what was all that for? Was that you?” a wall of young voices hit them as they stepped into their house, five children in various stages of undress and sleepwear scattered around the front kitchen area and worked up by excitement to an ungodly level of energy this early in the morning.

“Yes, that was me.” she admitted cheerily and Elvis loved her for it. “Oh heavens, we forgot the gun-“

“I’ll get it mama!” Jesse was up out of his seat in a flash. “What’d you shoot with it?”

She kissed his forehead in a good morning greeting and soothed, “There was a varmint out back, kept me awake all night so I took care of it.”

“Oh, that’s real cool, mama.” Jesse’s eyes filled with admiration before he backed outta the screen door and flew down the path to get the gun in a blur of blue swim drawers.

“Cool.” Elaine repeated and tested the compliment on her tongue as Elvis laughed in a tired rumble that reverberated against her back as he clung to her like a sleepy child, one hand around her waist, his chin on her shoulder and his other hand busy stroking a clinging Rosalee’s head.

“Yeah, you’re real cool.” he insisted, his voice warbling.

“Outta sight.” Daisy offered from her place on the floor amidst a pile of crayons.

“Mhmm!” Elvis grunted, all gritty and revved up in her ear and she shuddered from something besides her wet kaftan.

“Alright, alright thanks.“ she batted the air like she could knock the compliments down that way, while trying to spin in Elvis’ hold. “Your daddy needs his sleep. Woke him up with all that racket, y’all be good and I’ll be back to fix food. C’mon Mopey, let’s get ya tucked in.”

“But Jack’s in our damn bed!” Elvis bawled.

“Not for long! He’ll be up for breakfast, come on baby, let me tuck ya in.”

“Can’t tuck me in the way I need when he’s there.” Elvis grumped.

“Oooooooh.” Elaine drew it out in understanding before turning back round to address their sleepy little audience gathered round the kitchen table, “Y’all get the flour and maple syrup out for me, your silly daddy dunked us in the ocean so we’ve gotta shower off. I’ll be back.”

“I know how to make pancakes mama!” Ella piped up, suddenly very awake.

“Alrighty then, pancakes it is.” Elaine smirked and saluted her before leading Elvis into the adjacent master bedroom.

“You’re showering with daddy?” Jack grumped from their bed, his stuffed whale toy clutched and his blonde hair scattered across the pillow, “I need a drink, mommy.”

“There’s this great thing called a water faucet in the kitchen, son.” Elvis snarked, now he was the one tugging Elaine.

“Well I can-“ Elaine began before finishing with a little scream as Elvis hauled her bodily into the bathroom with him.

“S’real bad to let the salt stay in your hair for long, Laney, you know this.” he tsked before addressing Jack as he slid the door closed, “Mornin’ Trouble, hope that pilla kept ya good company.”

“You’re awful.” Elaine snickered behind him as she adjusted the faucets. “Having a rivalry with your own son!”

“You like gettin’ fought over, don’t you even try to deny it.” he murmured, coming up behind her to kiss her neck -and help her remove her kaftan. “And I can dance better than him. So it’s a clear choice, lil mama.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t give me half the trouble you do.” she grinned, making fun of his nickname for the poor kid.

“You’d be bored to death without it.” he growled and it sent sparks down her spine as his damp and slippery silk shorts rubbed against her butt.

There was a knock at the door. Elvis quickly left off his romancing and bodily picked up Elaine and set her behind the shower curtain in the steaming bath.

“What?” he asked of Jack, because of course it was Jack.

“You’re not in yet.”

“Thanks t’you,” Elvis laughed, “now what?”

“My whale wants to go swimming with you.” he held up his fuzzy sea creature.

Elvis took a very nasally breath and held it, “Jack, there’s a whole goddamn ocea-“

“Elvis!” came a rebuke from behind the curtain and only the thought of Elaine naked and slippery back there gave him fortitude to begin again, although in a mockingly patient voice:

“Jack, there’s an entire ocean out there for you and your whale to swim in. He swam yesterday and I’m sure mama’s gonna take ya this afternoon. Now go eat Ella’s pancakes. Good mornin’.” and he shut the door.

He tore into the shower so fast he didn’t even shuck his swim trunks, spurred by the image of Elaine lazily wetting her hair under the spray. She looked at him and at his dripping silk shorts and the outline of little Elvis poking needily out the waistband and bit her lip to suppress a grin. It was pretty gratifying to be so wanted.

“Did you lock the door?” she asked breezily and saw the exhaustion cloud his face once more.

“No.” he admitted and stared at the shower curtain while contemplating the door beyond it, “Nope, and if he comes in, it’s on him what he sees.”

“The kid has seen a lot and it hasn’t deterred him yet.” she laughed.

Elvis still stared at the curtain, “Yeah, maybe we should take him to see someone ‘bout that.”

“Oh hush,” Elaine smacked his belly, “couldn’t be hereditary or anything, could it?” she joked.

“I did not cockblock my father at every goddman opportunity!” he railed, playfully backing her into the tiled wall.

“Oh?” Elaine grinned, “That’s not how Vernon recalls it.”

“Vernon’s a bastard!” Six years after Jack’s birth and Elvis was still aggrieved by the suggestion that his doppleganger was anything like him. “Just makes that shit up to justify remarryin’ so fast, actin’ like mama weren’t the best thing that ever happened to his sorry a-“

“I know, I know.” Elaine soothed, regretting this line of conflict. “Just teasing.”

“Don’t tease.” he begged, kissing her under the spray, “I’m tired and I don’t want it.”

“Ok.” she assured, returning his smooches, “No teasing it is then. C’mon now, help me, step outta of them.” she kneeled under the fall of water and peeled away his shorts.

It was a gift every time, pulling the fabric away to see her man and that alluring place that all his costumes and paraphernalia teased but only she got to see at the end of it all. Those deep and skimpy tan lines that marked her territory versus the rest of him that the world saw, like a sovereign country’s borders. Thighs thicker than usual and soft brown skin stretching over his fuller belly, that dark thatch of hair so fastidiously trimmed and leaky lil Elvis collecting shower droplets on his bubblegum pink head. She shifted on her knees and licked her lips, so impatient to taste him she had to force herself to finish the task of untangling his shorts from his feet.

“Think he’s gone?” she asked Elvis as he stroked back her hair in anticipation, spreading his feet to get a stance that didn’t make him knock his knees and crumple at the first throat tickle she gave him.

“Awful quiet.” he shrugged, a whimper caught in his throat as Elaine shifted closer on the hard tile and peppered his stomach with kisses, kneading those handles of his on his fleshy hips and nuzzling the little crease he’d begun to show where he’d once been cut and firm. Her tongue darted out and traced those lines lovingly and the way she held him so firmly to her attentions and the sweet arch of her back beneath the spray convinced him to view such things a little gentler, a little less obnoxious while his Tink’s mouth was worshiping them so gently.

Down she went, lovingly nuzzling and licking a path across his creases and up his thighs, nosing as his balls and rubbing her cheek against him before opening her mouth and letting Elvis guide his throbbing length onto her tongue. He clasped her head and started a rhythm, a gentle and steady pump to the back of her throat which she knew by heart, and when the cadence had been perfected he let her be and grabbed the shampoo and lathered his own hair before tipping his head back in the water and washing the suds out. Then he poured out a dollop again and, rubbing it between his hands, began to massage it through her locks, lovingly swiping any run-off away from her eyes and swirling hypnotizing little circles into her scalp.

That made her moan. It sent the damndest spark to his very toes and he thrust in harder, hissing and smiling down at her. She was smiling back -around a mouthful of cock. And she looked so pretty doing it, there wasn’t a sweeter or lovelier face to be found when she was hollowing her cheeks and stretching her lips and batting her sparkly eyes. Savoring the feel of a man’s meaty weight in her mouth, letting him gag her with aplomb. The suds squished under his grasp as lewdly as the slurping sounds Elaine made when her gasps grew short and she tried to sneak in a breath or two between his thrusts.

“Hell laney, you’re prettier than you ever been.” he realized with his chest fit to burst from love for her, her and the way she massaged his thick sides and the way she always smiled when sucking cock. The way she blew the Colonel's roof off over a point of honor, “How’d I ever get so lucky.” he muttered, realizing suddenly that she reminded him of those early days, before the babies -any of the babies- back when she was toned and lanky and bare faced. She had the prettiest smattering of freckles when her makeup was gone, he swiped the shower spray from off them.

She looked a girl again, the girl who gave herself to him for safe keeping.

She was trailing one hand down her stomach, flat and firm again, and down and down till she was playing with herself, he could tell by the way her arm moved in time with her head. He rubbed at her scalp again.

Another moan. His toes curl. His spine ran like hot lava.

It had been three years since…a baby. That would account for the toned and lean look, he had a sudden epiphany. Felt a fool for it immediately after.

It maybe wasn’t what they wanted but something a little feral and fond flooded his chest at this old Tink. Something told him to marvel at her, marvel at her like he had in her soaked kaftan at the beach. He had a beautiful wife. Damn stunning and he just -he didn’t see her enough, he felt. Odd, that.

“Laney, laney, hold up.” Elvis tapped her jaw and pulled her off him, chuckling as she wheezed in a breath, spit and precum sputtering thick and shiny off her lips and caught herself against the slick tile wall as if she had sparks in her eyes.

“What baby?” she gasped with eagerness, playing with the suds on her breasts and looking up at him coyley, knowing that tone meant her man had a notion up his sleeve. Probably a dirty one.

“I-I-I w-wanna, I-I wanna see you.” he begged and when she still looked lost he clarified, “I w-w-wanna w-watch ya p-play wi’yeself.”

Elaine’s face flushed crimson in pleased gratification at his adoring tone and with one last look of skepticism at his bobbing and visibly pulsing cock, asked with soft eagerness, “How’d’ya want me, daddy?”

Oh lord, it had been awhile since they played this game and his heart skipped a beat in anticipation. “Want ya to lay down on the tile, baby,” he instructed and watched as she sank back on her haunches without argument, slowly spreading her legs and scooting down until she was laying amongst the swirling suds, “Now, I-I-I w-want ya to spread your legs, baby, nice and wide f’me.”

Elaine did as asked, her hair swirling out in the eddy of water, her belly a canvass of sprinkles, letting her right foot push into the encroaching shower curtain a little, feeling a draft of the cold outside air rush in. “Like this?” she asked, her mouth dry from the sight of his bulk standing in a straddle above her.

“Jus’ like that.” he nodded down at her, his eyes darting all across her beautiful shiny self as the spray pelted down on her after breaking across his body, “Now this next part’s important to get right, Tink. Ya gonna be a good widdle bitty f’me, ain’t ya?”

“Yes daddy, I’d do anything for you, anything at all!” her voice rose.

“Then you spread those pretty pussy lips for me,” Elvis directed, “wanna see your itty bitty rosebud, gonna let the water do the teasin’ for us. Wanna see ya cum from the drip.”

Elaine did as she was told and stretched her labia, sucking in a breath as a small jet of water landed on her teased vagina. “Ooh, l-like this?” she hoped, sucking at her lip, trying to get on top of the teasing sensation.

“Fuuuck yeah, oh fuck, ‘xactly like that.” Elvis’ eyes were glued to her wobbling little petals, battered beneath the shower stream as he began to strip his cock with cruel, tight jerks of his wrist. Elaine nuzzled his ankle and glued her own eyes to his heavy sack, swinging above her in perfect view as it tightened up, guarded by those delicious, meaty thighs and her mouth hung open in craving. A drop of water ran off his heavy balls and landed on her forehead. “Oh Laney, you’re just perfect honey, jus’ perfect.” he praised. “It feel good?”

She was pretty sure if they kept this up he’d be spouting down on her face in a matter of seconds. “Yeah, it really does.” She craned her head back and stuck her tongue out in optimism.

—————-

Back in the kitchen a disgruntled Jack wandered into the little gathering of his siblings who were eagerly dishing out advice and praise to Ella as she capably flipped decently fluffy pancakes and stacked them onto a steaming plate.

“There, that should do for a start.” she declared and even Jesse and his ever growing appetite assented as he set the kitchen table with forks.

“Rosalee.” Jack sidled up to the auburn haired little girl trying to make a swan out of the paper towel Jesse had laid down as her napkin.

“Yeah, Jack?”

“Daddy said he’s gonna take us swimmin’.” he lied with the most guileless tone, “You wanna come?”

It was a calculated move, and a stunt Jack had pulled often to back up his own devices regarding monopolizing Elaine.

Rosalee went nowhere without her father and everywhere that her father did go, she went. And Jack knew this. She had meltdowns when she was escorted off sets and had meltdowns when she arrived at sets to find him holding his young co-stars instead of her. Jealous and sensitive, there was nothing more precious to her than time with daddy and at this news of an impromptu frolic, Rosalee clambered off her barstool so quickly she nearly split her head open.

“What are you up to, Jacky?” Nine years old with a head twice older, Jesse was onto him and stared his towheaded brother down with slanted gray eyes, “How is it daddy’s takin’ ya to the ocean when he’s washing the ocean off him as we speak? Don’t sound like somethin’ he’d do before going back. Waste a’time.”

“I’m just bearin’ the news.” Jack held up his hands, “It’s what he done told me.”

“But daddy’s gotta sleep, Jack!” Ella protested, always so keenly aware of her father’s irregularities and fiercely protective of his health.

“Ooooh leave off, he promised!” Rosalee whooped in joy and tore back towards the master bedroom with a maniacally gleeful Jack following on her heels.

Ella dropped the pancake plate onto the tabletop with a thump and Daisy immediately grabbed her fork and skewered four at once.

“Where y’all goin’?” Jesse cried out after trying to get a pancake of his own, abandoning it in favor of running down his two rogue little siblings who were about to start banging at the bathroom door like they had a death wish.

——————

Inside the shower Elvis felt his climax hit him like a freight train and bracing himself with one hand on the tiled wall, he watched with flitting eyes as his thick ropes of come joined the water shower to spatter across Laney’s chest and then down to the pattering of the stream against her pink house, then back up again. His thighs quaked and his belly shook and he kept stripping himself as wave after wave took over him from the sight of her down there, looking up at him with a pleasured grimace as the jetstream wiggled her nub. She had to be close, he could tell from the lines on her forehead and he managed to lift his foot and press it gently on her lower belly, jostling her womb like he did with his hand when he was inside. Her toes curled.

“Ya almost there, ain’t ya pretty girl?” he gasped, his own toes curling as lil Elvis didn’t seem content to flag after one shot alone, still standing stiff and interested in the proceedings below him. Elvis’ hand started to cramp.

“Elvis-“ her pretty pink tongue came out and touched her upper lip, her breasts jiggling with every big heave of breath.

Just then a round of knocks sounded on the door and if Elvis was any judge of distance -and he was a good one- he’d wager they were coming from someone about three feet off the ground and blonde as satan himself. “Not yet!” he barked, well past being patient.

“Elvis!” Elaine fretted below him, so close her eyes looked scared from desire. “I’m -“

“That’s it, that’s it you just take your time and feel it, sugar pie, that’s it.” he cooed to her and stepped over her, turning round in between her legs and running his foot further down, pressing on her little mound and after observing her hesitant moan, slipped his big toe along her soft seam.

The way her legs snapped closed like a trap spurred him on, as did her happy gasp as she thrashed and gripped at her chest like she was trying to hurt herself with the squeeze. He wiggled his toe in further, snagging her lil hole and plunging in, his leg shimmying in that controlled way he’d perfected on stage and she shrieked, happily, he was sure, except Jack didn’t know that-

“Mama I know you’re in there!” He demanded from behind the door, driven to outrage by neglect.

Laney was gorgeous when she was coming, and while often a moaner in the moments leading up to it -when propriety allowed- she was a silent screamer in the throes of it. Elvis kept up the merciless jimmying of his leg all the way through it and watched with distinct enjoyment a sight he rarely got to see from this removed vantage point. Caught in the vice grip of pleasure Elaine couldn’t humor her little brat any more than she could call on Jesus for help and Elvis just smirked down at her evilly as he kept the stimulation up. Kept it up until he was getting kicked in the gut by an overwhelmed wife.

The faucet stabbed his back as he stumbled backwards, laughing those hiccuping laughs of his and jostling his throbbing balls in one hand as Elaine cupped her mouth and tried to get her breath back. “You ok?” Elvis giggled as he knelt down and crawled over her to cup her wet cheek and bring her back down to earth. She was giggling herself, unable to voice anything but giving him a thumbs up to assure she was ok. He smooched her cheek vigorously.

“You’re still-“ she tried to form a full sentence but couldn’t.

“Those diet pills.” he whispered in explanation, gingerly still stroking his hard cock but over-sensitive cock. “It won’t go down, Laney.” he whined a little as he humped her slick belly, conscious that this was a lil pathetic to do on the shower floor but this is what he missed, moments like these where they could trust each other with all of it. He couldn’t stop himself now just to make it a little less animalistic, a little less needy. Truth was he needed her terribly and he didn’t mind her knowing.

Elaine’s hands came up and clung to the backs of his meaty thighs, as high as she could reach over his hips and she begged in a hoarse whisper that underscored the way her eyes were heavy and half mast “Sit, please, sit on my face, Daddy. Wanna taste you, I’ll get ya drained.”

She’d seen the chafed markings on her little friend from all the tucking and taping the wardrobe department had put him through, she’d tended to them with Vaseline and kissed the booboos goodnight. From the way she had her mouth open and her chin tipped back -Elvis knew what his wife wanted and with a weak moan he crawled over her again and at her insistent hands, turned back around till they faced the same way.

69ing he’d heard it called from a co-star. A filthy sorta indulgence that his ingenious wife had discovered on her own without the benefit of co-star gossip or ‘new wife’ magazines. “Gosh yes, yes that’s it, smother me baby, you're a hunk like this you know?” She gushed, gripping his hips firmly.

“Mama?” got yelled through the door along with another knock and a small racket as if there were reinforcements approaching -wether for Elvis’ cause or Jack’s, was yet to be seen.

“Go eat your pancakes!” Elvis hollered over the noise of shower spray.

“I need mama to cut them up!” Trouble hollered right back and Elvis looked down to see his fair temptress waiver at the sound of her son’s dire plight.

“Oh no, no you don’t, don’t even think it.” Elvis corrected her as he settled over her, a hefty thigh on each side of her face trapping her where he needed her, hard tile and grout lines digging at his knees. He patted at her belly and rubbed her hips as he stared ahead at the wall and slowly, almost apologetically, lowered his package over her sweet face. One ball slotted into her waiting mouth perfectly, aided by her eager little hands as she snuggled it onto her waiting tongue and with a contented grunt he muttered, “All you need to think about right now, my lil Tinkerbell, is how full and stuffed your lil mouth is with daddy’s sugar plums, how nice he is to give ya a treat n’how good you’re lil mouth is gonna make daddy feel, so good I just might kiss your lil kitty in thanks.”

Laney always got a little woozy when he didn’t give her a choice, told him it made her feel like goo inside and like she was a baby again -not in a bad way, mind. She loved it and he capitalized on it on occasions like this. After years together he’d come to understand she enjoyed a little sternness so long as he mixed it with affirmations and gentleness after. Something his younger and randy self may have been pitifully short on in his eagerness to sample her. So Elvis found himself able to squash the shame of teabagging his wife in the shower rather speedily, the obvious and untampered joy she took in the act helping him, as well as the feel of her rolling the damn things, one at a time due to size, in her mouth like his nuts were a Listerine swish.

How someone could enjoy gargling ballsack or having their noses smashed to an asshole was a little beyond Elvis, but when he said as much to her, Tink had told him she didn’t get how he could eat bloody pussy for hours.

After arguing this they had to call a truce. No accounting for taste. And since then, as a treat, Laney gets to suck his balls with the only addendum being she can’t lick his ass.

Never stops her from kneading it though, digging at the plain globes with her nails and pulling it apart -for his sanity’s sake he likes to assume she spreads it so she can get some air down there. He wishes he didn’t like that feeling as much as he does but hunched over her in the shower he has to admit the stretch of it feels rather good, combined with her suckling his sack. Little Elvis begins to pulse like he gets the memo. The better it gets, the greater the sensation becomes, the more he moans and shifts and bends double till he’s biting her thigh to keep quiet. In doing so he stops sheltering her little house from the spray with his shoulders, and with malevolent delight, he notices her jerk from the water jet.

It’s fun to watch from down here, her pretty pink petals getting battered and he adds his tongue into the mix on occasion and she thrashes and screams around his balls and he keeps his thighs locked against her cheeks, muffling it almost completely. He’s missed this, not just the filthy want for each other but -but the selfishness to do it. Sure he had been a cad in their earlier marriage, using her more like an animated glory hole than a cherished child of God, but they’d both trade the exhausted lassitude of the past year for that rigorous idiocy in a heartbeat. There’s gotta be some middle ground. He just can’t come up with the right balance with Tink mouthing at his balls like a feral harmonica player tearing up the riff to Orange Blossom Special.

“Daddy! Daddy when are you takin’ us swimmin?” That’s Rosalee’s voice, coming through the door and Elvis’ heart thuds to a stop for a moment in complete confusion as to why his lil pet expects that of him this morning, “I’ve been waitin’ patiently! Please daddy!”

She’s been waiting, by the door, this whole damn time while Jack’s been doing his regular, moronic behavior. She has been good. And somehow there’s been a mix up. He’s had little enough time to play with the kids on this set and Rosalee always takes that absence the hardest. The tile is unyielding beneath his knees and his resolve waivers.

“Oh sweetie I-I-“ he brings his fist up to his mouth to try to steady his wrecked voice, “sweetie I didn’t say nothin about that, did I?”

Elaine, callous succubus that she is, ignores his fatherly plight and begins to strip the base of little Elvis like it’s gonna spurt pixie dust for her. He falls down a little more in his kneeling posture from the intensity of it, forehead banging against her shin as he claws at the slippery grout lines.

“Jack said you promised to take us swimmin!” Rosalee sounds close to tears and it makes Elvis plan on wringing Jack’s little neck while the desperate need to cum rattles in Elvis' head until he’s humping Elaine’s mouth like a maniac. She digs in harder and he hides a sob as a cough.

Angrily he peels her pussy wider and let’s the jets sting her little nub, locking his legs resolutely against her cries until he sees a stream going in the opposite direction of the shower flow, a pretty little arc of fluid straight from her pussy and if it weren’t so diluted by the shower he’d know it tastes perfectly salty sweet. Satisfied with his revenge he covers her again with his back and lays his face on the tile between her legs, trusting her to either let him get up and console his poor daughter or else finish him fast.

Going with the first option becomes entirely necessary when he hears the door crack open and a cold gust of air rustles the shower curtain.

Panic gives Elvis’ voice a thunderous edge as he shouts:“The hell are you doin’? Don’t you dare open the curtain, don’t do it! Do not!”

“Oh daddy please don’t hit me!” Rosalee wails this idiotic plea like it’s a line from some dramatic afternoon Soap Opera, and Elvis is quite sure that’s where she learned it.

“Oh, s-s-stop the d-d-dramatics!” he begs, half to his children and half to Laney who seems convinced he can come from ball sucking alone, while he’s quite sure he can’t today.

“You promised!” Rosalee continues crying, very near the shower but not touching the curtain.

“Jack!” Elvis' voice thunders shakily.

“Yes Elvis?” the kid replies very calmly from the sink area.

“G-get out! Both of ya- get out.”

“I just wanted to take a bath with you!” Rosalee stays from sheer horror at having provoked such temper from her ever-loving father, “I’m sorry daddy! I-I-I didn’t mean to make you mad, honest I didn’t! Jack said-“

“Guys, what the- come on, get out!” That’s Jesse’s beautiful voice resounding in the bathroom, sounding like a general at nine years old and Elvis is gonna have to buy the kid another motorcycle for always being such a swell fella in times of need.

“But Daddy promised to take us swimming-“

“Guys out!” Jesse grabs ahold of Jack’s tshirt and starts tugging.

“But swimming-“

“Only Mommy’s and Daddy’s swim in showers, sometimes-“ Jesse insists.

“I just came to tell mama that Ella has caught the stove on fire-“

“Jack, liars go to hell.” Jesse reminds.

Elvis realizes then that maybe his thighs are squishing all the sound from Laney’s hearing and that perhaps she’s just coasting while enjoying her favorite hobby, unaware of exactly how nuts it’s gotten in here. Nuts was a bad word for it but- he starts to pull himself off her only to feel her teeth snap in protest at the thin base of his scrotum.

He can’t help his yelped,

“Laney!” that in turn spurs Jesse onto a frantic beg,

“Kids come on! Really, we need to evacuate now!” The poor boy sounds frantic and Elvis wishes he had the moral fiber to get off his wife’s face this close to the finish line. But he doesn’t, not for Jack, not even for Rosalee and any other sweet idiot spawn who didn’t obey the closed door policy.

This isn’t the first time.

Hovering as he is, balls clamped in a toothy prison, it’s like Elaine finally hears it all, processes her children and their proximity, finally gets it without the soundproof padding of Elvis’ thighs. She responds accordingly. Instead of abandoning their tryst as he expected, like a ninja geisha, she simultaneously grabs his cock and bends him backwards between his cheeks into her mouth, while raising her foot for Elvis to muffle his impending scream around some perfectly manicured toes.

To a chorus of wailing youngsters and one very admanet eldest son who sounds like a shell-shocked veteran encouraging the green troops to pull back, Elvis feels the persuasive suction of Laney’s mouth around his throbbing head, a flick or five to his weeping slit and he’s giving into her efforts, biting her toe to keep silent and smacking at the shower curtain in an attempt to stifle the need to move with his release.

Elvis shakes to the floor with an exhausted splat as his orgasmic loss of reality gives him a blissful five seconds of escapism where he lays, cheek down in the swirling shower drain, thanking Jesus and God and the Holy Spirit for his wife.

Elaine surfaces from beneath him with the invigorated gusto of a woman satisfied with her work, pulling herself out from beneath her man’s inert form only to be hit by a toy whale that’s been hurled over the curtain and onto her wet head -a last little defiance by a growling Jack who is getting tugged out by Jesse. An impressive throw, one Elvis is responsible for helping Jack perfect with the football many a summer’s night on Graceland’s lawn.

“Oh you silly thing!” she shouts with a laugh, “If any of you sprites are still in here, make yourselves useful, hand me those towels on the countertop.” she adds as she leans over Elvis, straddling him to turn off the tap, sticking just her hand out the curtain and making grabby motions with her fingers till the feel of fuzzy cotton meets it. “Thanks, sweets.”

“Why’re you so short mama?” Rosalee’s voice asks and Elvis groans beneath her on the floor.

“Cause I’ve been playing with sea creatures.” she explains without missing a beat and Elvis’ slick back starts heaving beneath her from suppressing his laughter.

“Oh.” Rosalee accepts it with a sniffle, having spent many hours in the tub or hot tub on her knees, the better to help her toys swim around.

Elvis rolls over beneath Elaine’s straddle and smiles at her with eyes still crossed from going to the grown man’s neverland. “Alright Rosalee, you run on now we’ll be out in just a minute. Promise.” he speaks up.

“And swimming?” she begs as she retreats.

“Well, uh, we’ll talk about that over breakfast.”

Elaine makes a sad face at the realization he’s not going to let himself go back to bed after causing so much heartache in their little people. “S’ok.” he insists, reading her mind and patting her thighs.

Hearing the latch click and the silence of privacy restored, Elvis clasps her by her neck and brings her face down to his, kissing her passionately, licking at her tongue and the traces of his spend on it. “You sure know how to love a man, Tink.” he murmurs, clinging to her warm body as the shower tile turns cold.

“All I ever wanted was to learn to be the best for ya.” she whispers, sweet and gentle.

“Born the best.” he insists, “The rest was just…a bonus.”

She brings the towels she’s been balancing out of the wet, onto his chest, and sitting up they rub each other dry, soft smiles and drowsy affection making them clumsy and open.

They stagger upright together and Elvis throws his towel around her and she throws hers around him and they’re cocooned in terry cloth this way, standing in the dripping shower, snuggled together and nipping at each other’s lips.

“How’s my lil friend.” she asks, sneaking a hand between them in the damp warmth of their burrow and cupping his harmless, shrunk little appendage.

“He’s good, he’s real good.” Elvis giggles, his cheeks turning pink, “Gentle with him now, he got wrung out by a cruel, lecherous gal.”

“He sure did.” Elaine grunts satisfactorily and it’s the most masculine sorta sound Elvis has ever heard her make, full of smugness and a dirty, gritty edge he can’t quite believe came out of his woman, his woman who is so polished and elegant most times. As if to underscore this departure from demure normality and diminish it all at once, Elvis feels her hand move again beneath the towel before an electrifying sting slices up his spine and down his leg from his freshly smacked ass.

“Laney!” he cries again, utterly aghast and pink as a baby and she can’t stand it anymore, standing on tippy toes to neck him some more, vigeorusly smashing her lips to his as she yanks the shower curtain open with her free hand

She steps out while Elvis lingers and bends down to retrieve Jack’s sodden whale plushie. He may wring the poor creature out more violently than necessary but it makes his wife titter.

“God! - I love you.” she insists, surveying her man as he steps out, his wet hair dripping in a boyish mop down his forehead and his lips kissed and bitten puffy pink and his cheeks bunched in a grin despite their bashful blush and the soft accumulation of fluff and good living filling out his chest and swelling his belly just that little bit. “Sometimes I think it’s gonna kill me, gettin’ to enjoy you, getting to look at you so much. Feels indulgent somehow, like you oughta be rationed to a gal, the same way you’re dosed out to your fans in little bits, one movie a time.” she laughs at her own silliness and he shakes his head shyly as he tucks his towel into a covering around his waist. “One day they’ll find me keeled over from palpitations brought on by starin’ too long.”

“That’s what the obituary’ll say,” Elvis snarks, “but you and I’ll know the truth of the matter, that you’re a lil squirrel who likes her nuts so much she don’t take time to breathe. Mark my words, that’s how you’ll go if you keep this appetite up.”

“Then I hope they accuse ya of manslaughter, right after.” Laney grins and he stalls with his comb in hand, raised to coiff his hair back, waiting for the punchline, “Because I don’t wanna be up there without you for too long.”

“Laney!” he repeats for the upteenth time this morning, but this time it’s hushed and his lower lip wobbles with emotion and his eyes swim, touched by the sentiment. Clearing his throat he adds, “I still wanna uh, sometime -yeah, uh sometime do that thing you were t-t-talking about in the w-water.”

She makes a puzzled face as she wiggles into a tiny pair of shorts Elvis bought her last month. She’s fit as hell, and he’s envious of it, and has to admit Jack’s overdue weening did serve one purpose at least, it thinned her out like nothin’ else coulda.

“Play handyman or-or whatever.” he blushes and turns his face away as he hangs up his towel, aware that they haven’t the time to linger over this with the kitchen possibly on fire and his children eager for a swim. “Ya recall? -what you were sayin’? Me uh, playin’ a handyman or plumber or, uh, whatever. Come visit ya.”

“Oooh that,” she goads playfully wrapping her arms around his belly once more, chin in his shoulder blades, “you wanna swing by Graceland and fix a pipe or two, find the rich and spoiled Mrs. Presley wasting away in her gold cage, rich but wanting in the worst ways? Hmm?” she runs her finger down the shell of his ear and it’s flaming hot to her touch, he must be red as her nails in the face, “Wanna take her on the table and give her what her posh movie star husband can’t? Wanna do that, huh Naughty?”

“God y-yes.” he stutters, head thunking against the wall in desperation at the mere

concept.

“Wanna make a movie of it,” she whispers into his ear, “like those ones Thumper and I made? Wanna make a movie so Elvis Presley has to sit and watch it later, hmm? Watch his wife get taken by a workin’ man?”

“Nghhh…” he growls smacking the wall, overwhelmed by memories and prospects.

“I see, well, that’s settled then.” Elaine murmurs before stepping away from their embrace, flicking his bare butt one last time as she laughs, “Only you would get the hots for cuckolding yourself.”

“Anything involving rearrangin’ your guts on a table gets me hot.” he mumbles defensively and Elaine smirkes at him with a promise in her eyes as she makes her way past him. He snags her back to him briefly by a finger in her back pocket, “Hey you,” he says adently with his hand cupping her jaw, “I love you too. I love you somethin’ fierce.”

~~~~~

“Daisy!” Jack’s voice warbled with betrayal as he entered the kitchen, “You didn’t!”

“Daisy!” Ella chimed in, whirling around from the stove to survey the kitchen table and her demolished stack of pancakes, “There was enough there to feed uncle Jerry and us besides!” she cried out as her little sister swallowed down the last of her syrupy goodness with a shrug,

“Oh, oh Daisy, oh my, that’s gonna -that’s gonna bite ya later.” Jesse sighed as he pulled up a chair and pushed around his abandoned, now cold and half eaten single pancake on his plate. “Your stomach’s gonna kill ya, Mae Mae.” he explained to a remorseless Daisy Mae.

“I was hungry.” she defends as Rosalee sullenly takes a seat next to her twin, “Sorry Rosalee, I shoulda saved one for ya.” she conceded but Rosalee shook her head.

“I don’t feel like eatin’ anything.” Rosalee moped.

“Why not?” Ella turned again from the stove, affronted for the reputation of her irresistible pancakes. “I’ll put blueberries in them and everything for ya!”

“I’m not hungry!” Rosalee repeated close to tears and her little chestnut bob swayed with her head shake.

“What happened to you?” Daisy grunted.

“Daddy got mad at me.” she whimpered.

“No he didn’t.” Jesse sighs, settling Jack into a seat by the scruff of his t-shirt, “He’d just told y’all not to come in and you disobeyed. He ain’t mad. He’ll be right as rain in a minute, hold tight.”

“He sounded mad! He sounded sad!” Rosalee’s tone grew in emphasis.

Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose and stared at his empty plate as Rosalee’s whimpers grew from just that to outright crying. “No, no look it’s-“ he glanced over at the stove to his twin who was industriously cooking another batch but not fast enough to circumvent Rosalee’ meltdown, “it’s like, when we all used to sleep in the big bed,” he chose his words carefully for optimal grief assuagement, “you know how some mornings you thought daddy was cryin’?”

“Yeah.” her little voice was garbled by snot.

“Yeah but he wasn’t, was he?” Jesse pressed his point, “He was just tryin’ to hold in his laughs so he didn’t wake you, while mama or Ella was ticklin’ him.”

“Yeah.” Rosalee cracks a small smile.

“S’like that.” Jesse reminded, “He ain’t sad. You ‘member how he’d start bawling when we started ticklin’ too?”

“Yeah.” Jack smiled in reminiscence of mornings when they’d all pile on top of Elvis and tickle him while Mama held his shoulders down. “But I know you don’t tickle people in the shower.” Jack fired back with six year old conviction, “Elvis hisself told me it wasn’t safe.”

Before Jesse was forced to choose between explaining further or else sullying his daddy’s reputation for safety ethics in the shower -or in general- the man himself and Mama breezed through the door, hair wet and as smartly dressed as always.

“Alright, alright, kids what’s groovin’ huh?” Elvis barreled in like his kitchen was his stage and topics of tickling and sadness were shelved, much to Jesse’s watery eyed relief, though he couldn’t quite meet his mama’s eyes when she scootched past him with a kiss to his head on her way to the sink. “Hey you I’ve got a present for you.” Elvis addressed Jack before plopping a very sudden and deformed whale plushie on the boy’s plate.

“Thanks a lot Elvis.” Jack muttered.

“Look on the bright side Trouble,” Elvis laughed while reaching down Jack’s back to grab a handful of his jean’s waistband, “all ya had to do was wait fifteen minutes and now mama’s got your glass o’water and your pancakes’ll be cut in triangles. Imagine that, patience.” and with that laughing admonition Elvis hefted Jack out of his chair by his waistband and proceeded to jostle his second born son in the age old manner often referred to as a wedgie. It even made Rosalee laugh and Jack hiccup from something they all suspected was enjoyment, although the kid would never admit it. “Alright, everyone alive and well? No fires?” He took stock of the place and found it comparatively tidy -little wonder as the kids didn’t have time to wreck anything, too busy knocking on his door. “Ella Bug those smell amazing and- Daisy, why’re you actin’ put out?”

“M’fine.” his daughter protested even as her face was folded into the identical sorta scowl that sold him a lotta records back in the early days.

“Is everyone mad at me?” he balked.

“No, she just ate fifty pancakes while everyone else was… busy.” Jesse cleared his throat. “Should enter her in a contest.”

“Oh Daisy, no!” Elaine swiped back her black curls and knelt by her, “Is your belly hurting?”

“Startin’ to.” Daisy was forced to admit through clenched teeth.

“Lordy, Mae Mae, that’s impressive,” Elvis murmured as he took his seat and, in a well worn routine, opened his arms and lap in welcome to a still sniffling Rosalee who catapulted into him, “what got into you?” he marveled as he tucked Rosalee into a snuggle and peppered her now glowing face with kisses.

“They were very good.” Daisy insisted and Ella beamed with pride over the stack of freshly made ones she carried to the table.

“Bet they were.” Elvis praised, tongue poked through his teeth laughing, “Glad ya enjoyed yourself at least.”

“Come lay down sweetheart, here on the couch.” Elaine led her to the adjacent wicker lounge. “Get you some ginger ale or something. Heavens, girly, the appetite on you!”

“Are you gonna eat with us, daddy?” Ella spoke up timidly as she took her own seat, the rather novel concept of her daddy at morning breakfast and the pride she took in her own cooking warring to make his verdict overly meaningful to her.

Elvis stared for a moment at the heaping piles of fluffy goodness with its melting pad of butter and sparkling syrup trickling to the plate as Jack voiced the very worry he had rattling in his head:

“That’s a lotta carbs.”

The whole table’s racket of pancake stabbing screeched to a halt and Elaine fumbled the glass bottle of ginger ale she had retrieved from the fridge to the very ground in her shock. “Jack!” she chatsized with more vehemence than the little stinker had ever elicited from her in his life, “Why on earth would you say a thing like that?”

Jack shrugged, although the combined weight of his family’s horror and Elaine’s blazing eyes made him timid, “It's just what the Colonel said. Last night. To daddy.”

“And why would you ever wanna sound like that good for nothin’ scallywag?” Elaine cried, “We appreciate a good appetite in this house, plenty of folks don’t have what we’ve got and we’re not about to thank the good Lord for his generosity to us by listenin’ to the worn out gimmicks of a corpulent glutton. Carbs! Maybe he should count some carbs-“

“Laney, laney.” Elvis moderated her with a shushing wave of his hand and she stilled, pinching the bridge of her nose in that way Jesse had learned from her and clipping over to Daisy with grief stricken eyes she hid behind her ire.

“Sorry.” Jack croaked while giving his mother the stink eye even as Jesse in turn glared at him, “I said I was sorry?”

“There’s nothin’ to be sorry about Jack.” Elvis insisted, eyeing his strangely cold wife as she tended to Daisy and got her a preemptive barf pan. “You were just statin’ nutritional facts and if you’re gonna be a scientist one day, your interest in ‘em will serve ya well. Now Ella, dish me up some a’those sticky carbs, won’t ya?”

Ella beamed and quickly stacked up a steaming pile on her daddy’s plate, presenting a blushing cheek for his kiss just as Daisy lost her battle with the bellyache and puked into the bowl Elaine held for her.

“Well that’s an appetizing sound.” Jesse pushed his plate away with a joking grimace and he and Elvis shared a silly moment that almost made Jesse forget about the shower and his subsequent vow never to look his daddy in the eye again.

“Poor Mae, Mae,” Elvis sighed, stabbing his pancake and making a show of chewing it obnoxiously for Ella’s benefit.

Elaine couldn’t help but smirk, even as she dabbed at Daisy’s mouth with a cloth, amused that her man was moaning louder over pancakes than he did from her attentions in the shower.

“So,” he spoke up as he scarfed them down, “what’s this about swimmin’? Hmm? For the record I never promised anythin’ of the kind but, loathe as I am to award bad behavior,” and here he gave Jack a pointed look over his poised fork, “since we’re all together, why not?”

“Really? Really?” Rosalee screamed so loud in his ear he shook his head just to get the ringing out.

“Oh daddy, it’s gonna be so fun! You there! Oh yes yes yes yes!” Ella was spinning in circles, having gotten out of her chair at some point to celebrate.

“Mhmm,” he hushed them and went on, pushing his plate away, “is it swimmin’ you’ve really got your hearts set on?”

“Well, no- we just wanna be with you.” Rosalee admitted.

“What? No! We wanna go swimmin’, just us and mama-“

“Jack, please hush up.” Jesse begged.

“See I was thinkin’,” Elvis rose above his six year old’s sharp remarks, “we could certainly go swimmin’ but then again, ya can go swimmin’ most anytime, near anywhere. But ya know what ya can’t do?”

“What, daddy?” a hushed chorus of anticipation went up from his little audience, even Daisy showed interest as Elaine doted on her.

“How would you Tiddlywinks like to fly ‘round in a helicopter?” He asked with a brilliant grin.

“No way!” Jesse nearley fell out of his seat and his eyes filled with excitement.

“Yes way, perks of the job, boyo.” Elvis sat smug at the head of his table as his children gushed around him in a frenzy of anticipation, Elaine watched their adoration with a pleased smile, praying only that he wasn’t going to be the lone pilot. “Now who’s glad daddy works for that ‘corpulent scalliwag’, huh?” he goaded and Elaine’s smile turned brittle as the kids laughed and cheered.

Elvis eyes met hers above the den of kids clearing plates and his sober, cobalt stare put her right back in her place, a place that more and more had little or nothing to do with his creative processes and business deals - a far cry from the production and artistry that first brought them to together. She bit her lip and walked the vomit pan back to the sink, receiving a wide berth from the little revelers as she did. “Alright well, help your mama with this mess and get yourselves sorted.” he clapped, “We’ll leave, soon as we’re ready. Gotta go brush my teeth.” he rose from the table, his hasty exit unnoticed by any save Elaine who postured herself to be in his path as he turned to go into the master bedroom,

“E,” she murmured softly as he brushed past and he didn’t stop, but she knew he was listening by the tilt of his head as he went “while you’re at it, be sure you don’t accidentally brush your tonsils again, silly man.”

This loaded tease met with a titter of laughs by the couple clueless kids who overheard it and this time it was Elvis’ face that grew brittle, his step halted and his lip was close to sneering as he lowly rejoined,

“If you know ‘nother silly man who can get you a helicopter ride, an all expenses paid for vacation to Hawaii and satisfy your particular tastes, then be my guest Elaine, you tell him how to brush his teeth.”

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. I’ll admit I’m disorganized and have trouble keeping all the requests sorted when they’re scattered, what I do check regularly are the requests in the notes for chapters -and I do manage to get those added. So, if you’ve put in a request and I’ve failed ya, or if you’re new and would like to be added, please pop a note below. Xoxo

Taglist:

@eliseinmemphis

@prompted-wordsmith

@ab4eva

@foreverdolly

@powerofelvis

@butlersxbirdy

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

@myradiaz

@ash-omalley

@arianatheangelgirl

@steph-speaks

@burningloverdoll

@angelface-555

@lookingforrainbows

@missmaywemeetagain

@coolgirl462

@kingdomforapony

@18lkpeters

@richardslady121

@from-memphis-with-love

@lillypink

@artlover8992

@pennyroyalcreep

@notstefaniepresley

@ellie-24

@renaissingle

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@presleyenterprise

@marriedtopresley

@ashtag2887

@dkayfixates

@vampireindistress

@ashtag6887

@i-r-i-n-a-a

@obsessedvibee

@peskybedtime

@goth-cowgirl-03

@stephthestallion

@fav-fanficssss

@loving-elvis

@honeyorangess

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meowzfordayz · 3 months

Text

Author’s Note: this was actually supposed to be a lil nsfw fanfic (Shy!Giyuu turned Needy!Giyuu 😏), but then world building (re: cafe setting) got ahead of me, so yeah. 😆☕️

cafe meet-cute (ugly?)

Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Word Count: ~1,000

CW: explicit language

cafe meet-cute (cute!)

~faqs~

Shy!Giyuu as a regular at the cafe where you work part time to afford college. He always looks so tired, but manages the faintest of smiles whenever you greet him.

Shy!Giyuu who didn’t really notice when you started working at his favorite spot, but did notice when he found himself hoping you’d be there on his usual, dreary Monday morning, your absence duly noted when he’s met by a monotonous, “Hello sir, what can I get you?” instead of your usual cheery energy.

Shy!Giyuu who makes a point of reading your name tag the next time he sees you. You know his name, so it’s only fair that he finally put in the effort to learn yours. “Thanks, [y/n],” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep. “You’re welcome!” you chirp, and he swears he feels heat emanating from your cheeks. Or maybe he’s leaning in a little too close. Oops.

Shy!Giyuu who, even when he’s in a rush, no longer orders ahead, because then what excuse would he have to chat with you? And when the line is long? He absentmindedly—not absentminded at all—dallies on his phone, ignoring people as they hesitantly creep in front of him, itching for your full attention once the cafe empties out again.

Shy!Giyuu who asks about your area of study, your favorite color, where you got your sweater It looks comfortable, if you’re resting enough 😕 (that slipped out on an especially exhausting day, and he’d promptly turned so pink that you’d politely stammered about needing to check the fridge temperature Can’t let the milk spoil! 😃 as he dropped his tip in the jar and just stared at you).

Shy!Giyuu who asks so many questions you wouldn’t know he was shy. Truthfully, he’s glad his few acquaintances—dare he call them friends—don’t frequent the cafe too often. He’s certain he’d hear a mouthful from them otherwise.

“You talk to people?!” 🧐 <— Tengen

“They know your order? By heart?! Try something new for once, jeez.” 🙄 <— Obanai

“Seems like someone’s earned special privileges from the pretty barista.” <— 👀 Shinobu, after following a reluctant Giyuu into the cafe and watching him receive a free muffin

Shy!Giyuu who makes things a tad awkward when you eventually write your number for him on his cup (hidden underneath the cup sleeve — he almost misses it 😬). Awkward because he immediately saves your number in his phone, and proceeds to not text you.

Shy!Giyuu who’s never really dated, let alone experienced a ~meet cute, and definitely hadn’t envisioned himself in a sort of cafe-romcom situation. Aka, he’s in a panic (and utterly clueless).

Shy!Giyuu who’s grateful for your professionalism when he comes in two weeks later (he may or may not have been avoiding you, and “you” = his feelings for you), disappointed by the lingering stiffness in your tone, knowing it’s entirely his doing. He still blushes though when you shove a free muffin his way, I’m sorry on the tip of his tongue, fleeing on foot before it can take flight.

Maybe he does like you?! You ponder his behavior that night, lamenting to Mitsuri that, “I gave him my number weeks ago! Do you think he has a partner?! 😳 He must. Fuuuck. 😭 He’s so handsome. 😖 But MITSURI, nobody’s paying him to get to know me???! 🤔”

“Either he’s super bored,” Mitsuri giggles, “Orrr he’s super shy and totally crushing on you!!!!!”

Shy!Giyuu who nervously sets a travel mug of coffee on the counter, gazing away from the confusion in your eyes.

“Giyuu, it’s… already full?”

Shit. You didn’t mean to sound so dumb. 🙃

“It’s for you,” he croaks, face your favorite shade of red, “You make me coffee, like, a lot. So I wanted to return the favor.”

Giyuu, I literally work in a cafe you nearly deadpan I have unlimited access to coffee caught off guard by his gesture.

Internally screaming, actually.

“And,” he’s melting inside. You can practically see the steam billowing from his ears. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

He’s so close, he can probably hear how fast your heart’s beating. Not good, not good, not good. He definitely has a partner!!!!! Oh fuck, and now he’s here to let me down easy.

“For not texting, telling, you sooner.”

He gulps. You lick your lips. The thought occurs to him that he’d very much like to kiss you.

“You have a partner!” you squeak, exhaling like a deflating balloon, “Of course! Why are you apologizing?! I crossed a line! My bad!”

You nudge the travel mug toward him, so focused on your own embarrassment that you miss his expression falling, taking a deep breath to collect yourself.

“Hi Giyuu!” you hope you’re doing the right thing, starting over, “What can I get you today?”

Shy!Giyuu who, admittedly, turns tail and runs. 💀

Damn.

Shy!Giyuu who goes to class mortified yet… excited, recognizing the misunderstanding that occurred, cursing his lack of communication and deer-in-headlights reaction, eager to make amends. To make you see him.

He has to strongly resist the urge to bang his forehead into the desk.

Shy!Giyuu who recalls how his latte art gradually switched from intricate swans and tulips to hearts. Simple, but cute, and always capable of brightening his mornings.

Shy!Giyuu who realizes that, the first morning you ever created a heart for him was also the morning you gave him your number.

Shy!Giyuu who’s determined to clear the air, and take you on a date.

Not a coffee date. 😅

I'm 99% likely going to conclude this w/ pt 2 later today (or sometime this week). 😉💙 Update: cafe meet-cute (cute!) aka pt 2.

#giyuu tomioka #tomioka giyuu #giyuu x reader #tomioka x reader #water hashira #headcanons #college au #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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hearts4blyth · 2 months

Text

“𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠”

!peacekeeper coryo x fem reader! 🍃🧺🎀 ࿔*:･

summary : you and corio have a picnic around the lake

♡︎away from a month but wtvv , think this one is longer than my last fanfic but hope you enjoy! any criticism or corrections are appreciated ♡︎

note ; bye wasn’t even my intention to make this a lil bit long but im jumping off a bridge tomorrow

(finally a moment where Corio and y/n could have a moment of peace and quietness away from the people,away from the districts and away from the capital.)

your down in the trail with coriolanus beside you with the slight breeze hitting your strands of hair and the sun hitting its reflection through your little sundress,the laughter and with the blades of grass ticking your ankles

of course it wasn’t much bother to Coriolanus much just wearing his same peacekeeper uniform pants and just his white tank.

continuing their trail, following you wondering where this picnic could be.

“cmon coryo!” you smiled at him and exclaimed in a tone of a jokingly matter

then right after you reach for his hand so maybe by that he could keep up with your pace. coryo didn’t quite understand what you were all rushed up for but he didn’t say a thing, just finding it a bit obnoxious but either way he found your ways cute.

without even realizing it your finally at the spot, being distracted by the atmosphere nothing like the capital that’s for sure. with the weeds and grass just growing wildly , the sound of the lake and its waters , flowers blooming beautifully looking like the dress you were wearing matching perfectly.

୨ ࿔*:･

“isn’t it beautiful?” you ask letting go of coryo’s hand, in glee turning around, coryo smiles back at you and agrees exclaiming “better than i thought” he gives out a small scoff and it is beyond of what he could imagine sure a few mosquitos were pissing him off down in the trail but he just wanted to see you happy having this moment with him.

coryo taking over and helping you with setting down the picnic mat, after then sitting down on the mat you take out a small piece of loaf bread and a jar of homemade jam, spreading the jam into the loaf you give it to coryo and takes it as he sinks his teeth into the bread you gave him.

you then sit back and relax with the breeze setting down more with the warmth hitting your skin, grabbing a cherry from the basket and taking a bite from it leaving a cherry tint stain on your reddened lips.

just a quiet moment between you enjoying the atmosphere you sit up and turn you body to face coryo and ask him if there’s anything like this in the capital. he replies with a small response saying “nothing i see here could be seen over there, buildings and reconstruction just.”

sharing a moment like this,with your smile and the sound of laughter coming from each other, and having bites from the pickings you brought.

digging your teeth for a small bite of another cherry leaving a tint of it on your lips, and leaning your head down onto Coriolanus shoulder, turning his head down and seeing your lips with the taints of cherry on those lips, making him tilt your head up and having a sweet passionate kiss as an excuse to get rid of the stain from your lips.

you let go from the little kiss, then laying your head down on his lap caressing her hair then leaning in for another kiss but was filled with a more longer stroke of passion. letting go, both are just smiling under each others gazes with y/n caressing coryo’s sharp cheekbones then letting go with both admiring the quietness of the atmosphere again.

♡︎ i hoped yall liked it! if you’d like please consider reblogging this, which helps on gaining reach n ppl liking this! tyty for reading ! ︎♡︎

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quin-ns · 1 year

Text

Complicated (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 2.1K

Summary: joel lets the fear of losing you get twisted and ends up pushing you away. he realizes his mistake when you get hurt

Tags: cw: violence (not from joel), angst, fighting, possessive!joel, implied stalking, joel’s bad behavior is mostly ambiguous so take that however it suits you, reader is a badass, injury, hurt/comfort, very complicated relationship, but also humor and fluff (this really isn’t as dark as it sounds I promise), making up

A/N: wanted to try something with more angst for a change. also wanna start exploring joel being a lil darker than I usually write him since he showed that side in the last few eps. not full dark yet tho. I actually weirdly wrote it with a lot of internal humor with the reader.

cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • main masterlist

“Joel—stay away from me,” you warned, jaw clenched and gaze hardened.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, trying to come up with a response. Something that could calm you down and make you just see that he was trying to protect you.

Joel lifted his hands and held them in front of himself, as if he was approaching a scared animal. Or maybe a dangerous one. He silently pleaded with you, the look on his face trying to emphasize his point. I’m not a threat.

Maybe not at first, but now you weren’t so sure.

“Please, we can talk about this.”

God, did he have to make this harder? “I’m asking you as someone who you care about; please just give me some space.”

Joel’s frown deepened. He was starting to realize he couldn’t get out of this one. “For how long?”

You let out a tired sigh. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Just… leave me alone.” You turned your back on him then, retreating to your apartment in the QZ.

For the first time in a long while, Joel made no attempt to follow you.

For a week, you hadn’t seen Joel. Like, at all.

That almost made you more nervous than catching a glance of him once in a while just out an about.

Being without Joel was an unfamiliar feeling, and a part of you screamed that it just wasn’t right. You weren’t dependent upon him, it wasn't that. You had just become so accustomed to his presence that looking over to your side and finding you were all alone was jarring.

That feeling was extra high as you packed your bag, on your way to meet up with a contact and make a trade.

You looked over your shoulder constantly, kept your hood up, and stayed out of eyeline from the cameras as best you could as you made your way to the meeting spot.

For something like this, you missed Joel. Well, not missed him. You didn’t miss him. It was the smart thing to do, he was getting too overbearing.

Although, you’d believe that a little more if you weren’t aware of the fact that you were trying to convince yourself.

You shook your head, physically trying to rid those thoughts from your mind. It was just a simple trade. Sure, when you were with Joel you felt safer. You could fight, but Joel could kill. Sure, there was safety in numbers. Being a woman alone at night wasn’t ideal and this was a rough business. And sure, you didn’t recognize the two men approaching you and…

Wait.

Where was your contact? The only way they could’ve found you is because of him (you never learned his name).

“Who the hell are you?” you questioned, hand drifting to the gun on your hip.

“Liam sent us,” one of them said.

You hummed, more so to yourself. So that was his name. “Alright, well, that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the other one said. “Do you have it?”

You relented, but maintained a reasonable level of suspicion. You reached for your bag and swung it off of your back. You pulled out a bag of pills that you and Joel had smuggled in.

Maybe after the deal, you’d split the money with him. Or at least give him a third. Yeah, that was better. You were taking all the risk right here right now.

“You know the price?” you asked, scanning their faces in the dark. It was hard though, you couldn’t really make out any of their features. It put you on edge even more so.

“Yeah,” the same guy said. He slung a backpack off of his back and let it fall to the ground. He crouched down and unzipped it.

As he reached into the bag, a bad energy edged over you. Your instincts were right. The guy pulled out a gun and with no hesitation, he fired recklessly in your direction. Not a single bullet connected thankfully, but this was not a good situation to be in.

“Really?” you asked out loud, annoyed. You weren’t expecting either of them to answer.

The other guy suddenly charged at you, tackling you to the ground. You managed to pull your gun in the struggle, but he knocked it out of your hand. Bastard was strong.

Thankfully he didn’t have a gun, but the pocket knife he pulled out didn’t look much fun.

Your heart slammed against your ribcage as you fought against him. His buddy had run off after realizing that his shots had missed. Probably wouldn’t have had the guts to kill you anyway if missing spooked him enough.

The guy you were wrestling against, though, did have the guts. And that wasn’t good news for you as he got the upper hand.

You hardly registered the pain as the stranger's knife plunged into your abdomen. He released the handle as you fell backward, thinking that the blade had done the job. In a quick motion, running on adrenaline, you yanked the knife from your own body and slashed at the assailant as he leaned over you. The blade connected with his neck.

Maybe he didn’t deserve the death penalty for the attack, but it was you or him. He made that clear. And you weren’t about to succumb to death from some overzealous thug. No way in hell.

Blood hit your skin in heavy drops that slowly became a gush. You heard the thud of his body before you registered his weight on half of your body. You scrambled out from under him, scraping against rocks and dirt as you dragged yourself across the ground and away from your assailant.

You laid on your back and stared up at the sky. There was some light saturation from the QZ, but you were grateful it wasn’t enough to totally erase the stars. You reached down, blindly, trying to cover your wound and put pressure on it.

You let your eyes slide shut for a moment as pain started to erupt from the wound. You heard footsteps and a male voice that sounded muffled by the time it hit your ringing ears.

Larger hands gently nudged yours out of the way as he took over applying pressure to the wound with one hand.

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know who it was, but you did anyway.

You wished you could’ve been surprised to find Joel kneeling at your side, but you knew him all too well.

“If you’re gonna stalk me…” you took a heaving breath in. “…you could at least save me quicker,” you wheezed out.

“I know, sweetheart.” He actually sounded guilty, like it was somehow his fault. Despite everything that had gone wrong, it was a brief reminder that Joel did care for you. Even if it had crossed the line from protectiveness into something darker. Obsession was the word you had used before, when you found out the lengths he was going to in order to keep an eye on you.

“I’m getting tired of you treating me like property,” you told Joel, trying to open his eyes to what he was doing. “It’s like an obsession and that’s not normal. You have to know that.”

“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” Joel argued.

You scoffed. “You don’t get to just say that as if it’s a justification for everything.”

Joel would disagree. And that was the problem.

Joel ran his hand up the side of your face, calloused fingers grazing skin until he was able to brush strands of hair out of your face. “I should’ve been here to watch out for you. Should’ve never let you out of my sight.”

You scoffed out a laugh, the slightest bit of blood trickling from the corner of your mouth. “That’s not the lesson I want you to learn from this.”

“Lesson? Jesus, Y/N,” Joel said, sounding somewhere between offended and dismissive. “I’m gonna lift you now, okay? Take you and get you patched up.”

Joel tucked his arms under you then, hoisting you up. You groaned and Joel carried you bridal style towards the infirmary—you couldn’t be sure where he was going, actually, but it was a good guess. You didn’t want to think about what would happen when the Fedra doctors found out what happened…

The rapidly decreasing adrenaline sent you into a dizzied state. It was like the world around you was spinning incredibly fast and then just stopped. Your ears were ringing and maybe the injury wouldn’t kill you, but fuck did it hurt.

The pain was overwhelming, and your last coherent thought was one expressing gratefulness to your own body for sending you into unconsciousness to avoid dealing with the pain.

That, and registering the scared look on Joel’s face as he watched your eyes slide shut. You hardly ever saw him scared.

You felt yourself coming back to consciousness in what seemed like seconds, but it had more than likely been hours.

You hadn’t opened your eyes yet, but you frowned a little, trying to go back to sleep. You were laying down in a bed with fresh, clean clothes. And you could tell you’d been stitched and bandaged up.

Joel reached for your hand, his larger one encasing yours. Those sad brown eyes of his watched as your eyes finally fluttered open. You met his gaze immediately and everything came flooding back.

You realized quickly based on a scan of your surroundings that you were in the hospital, not a jail cell. Not even cuffed.

“What lie did you tell them?” you asked hoarsely, throat dry.

“Half truth, half lie,” Joel revealed under his breath. “Said that you were jumped by a couple of guys, didn’t say why. If they ask you were trying to take a shortcut home and got lost in the dark.”

You closed your eyes and sighed. Exhausted—mentally, mostly. “How screwed am I?” It couldn’t be long before the body was found. Even if it was self defense, the man was still dead.

“Not at all,” Joel told you. Your eyes snapped open. “But since there were no cameras near where you were and the two guys ran off, Fedra may not be able to find and punish them.”

You furrowed your brows as you looked at him. “That’s not right,” you pointed out.

The lie had rolled so smoothly off his tongue, but you caught it. You weren’t that out of it.

“I know, but there’s nothing we can do. They’ll get caught eventually,” Joel responded. His tone was even, but the way he looked at you… it was a warning. Not in a threatening way, more like he was pleading with you.

Keep your mouth shut. Let me help you.

Of course.

“Well, I always have you to protect me, don’t I?” Your emphasis on the word was bitter. You hated that it was true. He never thought you could look out for yourself and it was like stupid stabby guy intended to prove that true.

What you really wanted to do was ask Joel what he had done with the body. Had he dropped you off, left, and then come back? You couldn’t ask him with nurses passing by.

“You handled yourself pretty well, actually,” Joel said it like a confession, pulling you from your thoughts. And oh look, the world kept turning. Maybe it was still a crazy, messy, terribly fucked up world—but it didn’t end simply because Joel admitted you weren’t some helpless damsel.

It could’ve been because he rescued you, or it could’ve been the morphine, but a wave of affection washed over you. Your expression softened You became more presently aware of Joel’s hand overlapping yours. You turned your hand, palm now facing his. Joel’s eyes flicked down briefly as your fingers curled over his hand.

Joel let out a content sigh, like he’d been holding his breath. He held your hand a little tighter after you gave his a light squeeze.

“I was worried about you,” Joel said as if it was some big secret.

You nearly laughed. “Yeah, no shit.”

Joel cracked a smile, which had become rare for him recently. He even let out a small chuckle at his own expense.

“I don’t want to lose you.” The amount of sincerity in his voice left no doubt.

He had tried so hard to keep you that he caused you to leave. You were sympathetic, you knew he wasn’t a bad guy. He’d done some things that wouldn’t be considered good. There was a difference. In a world like this, there had to be.

“Then don’t,” you replied. You could’ve said more, but Joel understood. He had one last chance and he couldn’t screw it up.

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just-jordie-things · 1 year

Text

i've got my mind on you - gojo satoru

word count: 9.7k warnings: heavy drinking, swearing, mentions of a toxic relationship (not reader’s) summary: whoever said drinking to forget works is a goddamn liar a/n: I've just been listening to say yes to heaven by lana del rey a lot lately so the vibe is kinda there (but I wouldn’t say it’s a songfic per se)

___

“So what’s your plan? You’ve either got to slow it down, or come up with a plan”

A giggle, a hiccup, and then a goofy smile spread across (y/n’s) face, before she leaned over the bar and pulled the straw in her margarita towards her mouth.

“Well, hic-” She’s barely gotten any real sentences out in the last fifteen minutes, but Ieiri still tried to get through to her. “I’ll pro’lly jus’ stay a lil’ drunk forever- hic- so that I never get hungover”

Ieiri rolled her eyes with that tiny bit of affection that she feels sometimes.

And if she was going to feel affectionate towards anyone, it was going to be (y/n). She didn’t have many friends, but she knew they didn’t deserve it. (y/n) however… was going through a tough time.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” She sighed, twirling her own straw around the ice cubes left in her glass. “I meant what’s the plan with Satoru?”

For a moment, a three second moment, the hiccuping and dopey smiles halted, and (y/n) stared down at her half empty glass.

The whole point of coming out tonight was to forget. To forget him and his stupid face and his stupid voice and his whole stupid self that she was so damn in love with that it just about blinded her. She couldn’t think when she was around him, she couldn’t breathe when she was around him.

And she simply couldn’t have that.

“The plan’s right in front of ya” (y/n) replied, giggling again before taking a few more sips of her drink.

“Your plan is stupid, then,” Ieiri huffed, leaning her elbow on the bar, resting her chin in her palm. “So you’ll drink forever?”

“Mmmhmmm” (y/n) hummed through her straw.

“And what about work? You gonna drink there too?”

(y/n) hummed again, looking up at the ceiling as though she were actually pondering the idea.

“We teach kids, dumbass,” Ieiri rolled her eyes, this time with less affection. “Seriously. You have to have some sort of plan. Distance? Or maybe…”

(y/n’s) eyes shifted sideways, just barely glancing at her friend from the corner of her eye.

“Or maybe what?” She asked, quietly, her eyes returning to what was left of her drink.

She wasn’t sure how many of these overpriced mason jar-margaritas she’d had, but it still wasn’t enough to solve her issue.

Maybe two more? She wondered.

“You could always confess” Ieiri shrugged.

(y/n) swore she could fall off her stool right now. The whole room was spinning. Or was it just her?

Am I that drunk?

“You’re delusional” She snorted, shaking her head, before sliding off her seat, steadying herself with her hands on the bar.

“I’m delusional?” The brunette repeats, like it’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard.

(And she’s put up with Satoru’s shit for a long, long time, so she was quite familiar with ridiculous)

“I’m going to the bathroom,” (y/n) sighed. “Order me another one of those, would ya?” She asks, gesturing to the empty mason jar on the counter.

Ieiri shakes her head.

“I’m sure they’re done serving you, ‘ya drunk” She says, punctuated with another eye roll.

(y/n) blows it off, trying her best to walk in a straight line towards the bathroom. She wobbles a bit, but at least makes it there.

It’s empty, to her delight because she’s been swallowing a hot lump in her throat for the last half hour and she just can’t keep it to herself anymore.

Closing herself in a stall, she fell to the toilet seat and dropped her head in her hands. Finally, a few tears could fall without the humiliation of being drunk and crying in public.

“Ya know, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met?” He says with that grin on his face that should make her want to smack him, but instead she’s lost in it, mirroring it on her own face.

“And you know you’re the cheesiest person I’ve ever met?” She replies smoothly.

“You calling me a liar?” He asks, leaning in closer, narrowing the space between them even more than he already had when he’d approached her.

She was trying to finish up her paperwork, making copies for the Kyoto school in the small copy room they had. Of course he cornered her in here. Just to flirt with her and fill her with a useless hope.

And yet here she was, following that hope, like an idiot.

“A liar? Gojo, I would never,” She smirks, before turning around to pluck her copies off the tray. “See ya”

But she can feel him shadowing her as she struts out of the copy room and off to her small office.

“Why do I feel like you’re looking for something?” She muses, fighting the urge to glance over her shoulder at him.

“Can’t a guy just walk a girl back to her office?”

“And what’re you protecting me from?” (y/n) hums, her eyes catching a figure making his way in the opposite direction. “Nanami?”

“Please, leave me out of it” The blonde man mutters, picking up the pace to his office.

“Don’t worry Nanamin, I’ll fill you in later!” Gojo calls down the hallway, before skipping up to walk at (y/n’s) side. “Where to miss?” He asks, folding his hands behind his back as he stoops low to be at her ear level.

“My private space,” (y/n) replies. “Or did you intend something else?”

“Intend…? Oh, no sweetheart you’ve got me all wrong!”

She stops walking then, turning to him, her copies held to her chest and her brow raised curiously.

“Do I?” She asked, staring up at him intently.

He pauses for a moment, which interests her because it’s not often that the great Gojo Satoru freezes, and here he was frozen because of her. A smile blooms across her lips before she pats his arm and heads off to her office on her own.

“See ya, Satoru” She calls behind her.

She shouldn’t have felt so victorious walking away from him that day. Because at the end of the day, nothing changed. Whatever playful banter they had would remain just as it is. Nothing.

With tears streaming down her face, (y/n’s) hands shook as she typed the passcode into her phone. Her mind ran wild with scenario after scenario in which she found herself giving him another piece of her. Another flirty comment, lingering touch, a stare that lasted just a second too long. It was too much.

A tear hit her screen as she was scrolling through her contacts. With poor motor skills she pulled the sleeve of her dress over her palm to wipe away the moisture, frustrated when it only spread it over the screen.

When she was finally able to type on the screen, she was scrolling through phone numbers again. It took a minute before her shaky thumb selected- almost haphazardly- what she was searching for.

It only took one ring before he picked up.

“(y/n/n)?”

“Ya know you’re a real downer, right? Ya know that?”

A small chuckle came through, which for some reason only ignited her frustration in the moment. Of course Satoru would find this funny.

“And while on the subject of stupid things, what’s the point of using mason jars for margaritas? The- hic- ridges makes all the salt fall off and then it’s not even really a margarita at that point is it?” She rants. “Fuckin’ lame- hic- is the aesthetic really worth it to people?”

“The aesthetic is lame,” Satoru agreed with another chuckle. “Where are you, sweetheart? A bar somewhere?”

Now she knew she was wasted, as she could’ve easily mistaken his tone for concern.

“Yeah -hic- somewhere,” She slurred out. “You wanna know -hic- what else is stupid?”

“What’s that?”

(y/n) leaned back on the seat, the alcohol in her system sending her back into the upper holding tank of the toilet roughly. To her luck, she didn’t feel the pain of the rough smack of the ceramic into her back. However the quick movement did leave her feeling a little dizzy.

“Ah- fuck” She muttered.

“You okay?” Satoru’s voice came through the phone a bit muffled but the concern was still there.

“I’m fucking fantastic. I’m faaantastic y’know?”

“If you say so. What was the bar you went to again?”

“Dunno,” (y/n) sighed, tilting her head back. “Did you guess?”

“Guess what?”

(y/n) giggles.

“You,” She answered for him. ��You’re the stupid one”

Satoru snorts before letting out a short laugh. It was hard to tell if he was annoyed or entertained, but she was too far gone to notice or care.

“I’m stupid?” He asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Yeah, you’re a total fuckin’ idiot” (y/n) sighed.

“You’re starting to sound like Kento,” Gojo laughs. “I thought you went out with Ieiri”

“I did, she’s here. She’s just still at the bar”

“You’re not at the bar?”

“I’m hiding in the bathroom”

“Hiding? Why?”

“I dunno. I’m tired. I’m tired of this”

It’s quiet on the line for a moment, leaving (y/n) to stare at the concerning green stain on the ceiling tile, her mind drifting off as she wondered what could have caused it, or how long it had been there.

“What’s goin’ on sweetheart?”

Why did he insist on calling her that? And why was it impossible to set fire to the butterflies in her stomach when he did?

“(y/n/n)? Ya still with me?”

“Yeah. I’m here” She mumbled back, closing her eyes before the ceiling stain could make her nauseous.

“Look, I’m on my way. Would you go wait with Ieiri? And drink some water?”

(y/n) sighs, before forcing herself to stand, only having to place her hand on the stall for a few seconds to keep herself upright.

“Alright,” She mumbles again. “Fine”

“Drink some water. See you s-”

She lowers her phone from her ear and presses the bright red END CALL before he could finish. The alcohol was getting on top of her, and she was getting too tired to continue dancing this dance.

Stumbling out of the bathroom, she finds Shoko standing there next to the door, a water bottle in hand and a gentle smile on her face.

“You alright?” She asked, uncapping the bottle and handing it over to her.

“No,” (y/n) replied. “Let’s just go”

Ieiri nods.

(y/n) can’t help but wonder where she’d gone so wrong. Was it the first time they met? If only she’d ignored him, rolled her eyes at his flirtatious nature and walked away. Maybe then she wouldn’t be stuck wallowing in self pity. Fuck, was this ridiculous.

“Oh! And don’t kick yourself over Nanami not liking you. He’s a nice guy. Just a guy of few words, that’s all” Ijichi added a tiny piece of advice into his tour. (y/n) chuckled.

“Good to know”

“And Ieiri is very nice, she’s a good friend” He adds, but this time there’s a slight pink on his face. (y/n) laughs again.

“She pretty too?” She asks with a face splitting grin.

Ijichi puts his head down, pushing his glasses up his nose and hoping the heat in his face would go away quickly.

And as (y/n’s) laughing to herself, tucking her hands into the pockets of the slacks, she catches sight of an odd, but indistinguishable character.

He’s walking in the opposite direction, with a phone to his ear, and he seems mildly annoyed from the way he shakes his head and waves his free hand around. That’s the first thing she noticed.

The second thing she noticed was the sunglasses he wore, which was strange because they were inside, but she had to admit they were alluring, in that mysterious way.

She finds herself watching him as he walks closer towards them. And she thinks that he sees her too, although it’s hard to tell with the dark lenses perched on his nose.

His hair was a shocking white, only adding to his allure. (y/n) couldn’t tear her eyes off him if she’d wanted to.

And when he finally passed, all she could do was wonder to herself who he was.

She looks back a moment later, only to find him stopped in his tracks, phone still held up to his ear, but he was clearly staring at her now. Her brows knot in confusion, watching him as still as she follows Ijichi down the hall.

Then he grins. A wide, almost shit eating grin.

And despite herself, (y/n’s) face feels warm, and she can feel her lips tugging into a smile before she can even figure out why it is that she’s smiling back at him.

Turning back to Ijichi with eyes rounded from curiosity and a bit of excitement, she beamed.

“Who was that?”

“Maybe I should just get a dating app and settle down with the first eligible man I meet,”

Ieiri snorted in response, glancing up from her phone to give her friend a questioning look.

(y/n) slumped against the brick wall they had been standing at for a while. It had been mostly silent while she was slowly drinking her water, and Ieiri smoked a cigarette. Until now.

“I mean, there’s a ton of guys on there, right? So shouldn’t there at least be… like… a couple of hot ones?”

“I don’t know,” Ieiri sighs, crossing one arm over her chest while the other waves her cigarette around as she speaks. “You don’t seem like the dating app type”

(y/n’s) brow furrows.

“Well, then what type do I seem?”

Shoko smirks, nodding her head off to the street.

(y/n) squints at her, before following her line of sight. There she found a familiar black car pulling up to the curb.

Ieiri grins, expecting an elated reaction from her friend. Instead (y/n) rolls her eyes.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me”

Gojo gets out of the driver’s seat, and jogs his way over to the wall. With that stupid grin and those stupid sunglasses, (y/n) just wanted to tell him to get out of here.

“What’re you doing here?”

The white haired man laughs, tucking his hands in his pockets as he approaches the pair.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me?” He asks.

Her brows are furrowed and the annoyed look she’s trying to give him comes off as a pout, so of course he’s laughing. His laughter pisses her off more.

She wants to tell him to get lost. She wants to shove him by the shoulders until he gets back in that car and drives away so that she wouldn’t have to look at his stupid face anymore.

Stupid.

“She’s had a bit too much,” Ieiri breaks the silence. “And she’s barely drinking her water”

Tattletale.

“I never knew you were such a party animal, (y/n/n),” Gojo teases. He’s still smirking. “Well let’s get ya home, hm?”

She doesn’t answer him. He’s not sure if he’s been given the silent treatment, or if she was finally over the peak of her drunkenness- and now came the downfall of heavy drinking. Either way, he’s slightly amused, as he’s never seen her in such a state.

There was the occasional work gathering, but they were few and far between, and at most they involved a beer or two. Seeing (y/n) obliterated was a sight for sure.

(y/n) turns to Ieiri, her lips in a frown.

“Go on,” Her friend prompts in an uncharacteristically sweet tone of voice. “You’re the one that called”

Stupid! (y/n) mentally face palms. The conversation she’d had in the bathroom came back to her in hazy images.

“Fine,” She finally speaks, swiveling on her heel to face Gojo again.

He had jumped for a second upon her quick motion, because surely she was going to trip over the skinny heel on her foot, but she had faced him with surprising balance, not even a sliver of wavering in her body.

“Then let’s go”

He nods, moving to open the passenger side door without a word. For a moment there, he thought he might have to throw her over his shoulder to get her to leave. So this was a pleasant change in plan for him.

“Goodnight,” Ieiri calls with a wave. “I’ll call you in the morning!”

(y/n) weakly returns the gesture, before Gojo shuts the car door. He turns for a moment, just to give Ieiri a look. Even behind his sunglasses, she knows the face he’s making. She grins, before putting her cigarette out on the brick behind her, and heading off in the direction of her own car.

When Satoru gets into the car, (y/n’s) leaning against the cool glass of the window, with both of her hands wrapped around the seatbelt over her chest.

“You feeling alright?” He asks.

No response.

“If you’re sick, we can wait,” He suggests. “I don’t want the drive to upset your-”

“I’m not sick”

Her words are small, and a little slurred, but he understood her nonetheless.

He nods, and puts the key into the ignition.

(y/n’s) eyes keep watch of the dark sidewalks they pass as he drives. There’s few people out this late at night- she briefly wonders what time it even is- and the city seems so peculiar when it’s this quiet. It almost makes her antsy, like the next corner they turn they’ll run into some sort of conflict.

But when he makes that left and it’s just another empty street, a calmness spreads over her insides. She sinks down into her seat a little.

Gojo sees this, having kept an eye on her for the last few minutes they’d been in silence. He waits for a minute, before he breaks that silence.

“Did I do something to upset you?”

She looks over at him, quiet for a few moments more as she tries to untangle her thoughts.

“Do you think you did?” She replies, thinking that’s the smoothest response she could have given him.

“No, I don’t,” He answers her straight away. She frowns, because it’s the wrong answer and they both know it, but that doesn’t make it any less truthful. “But then you called me, which you don’t do, and you called me names, which you sort of do, but you sounded really upset”

“Yeah” She sighs, before shrugging her shoulders.

Satoru waits for her to continue, his head constantly turning from the road to her, but she just sits there, clearly content with herself.

“Yeah?” He repeats, and he wants to scoff at her. He wants to shake his head and call her childish and inconsiderate to his feelings because clearly she had troubled him. She’d made him think something bad had happened, or he had hurt her somehow, he wasn’t sure what but she was the one that made him worry. And now she wanted to sit there and shrug her shoulders and stare blankly at him like she couldn’t see the concern pouring out of him.

“Yeah,” (y/n) says again, but this time her voice was dripping with malice. “I was upset”

His knuckles are white as they tighten around his steering wheel. Sober (y/n) would have noticed, and probably called him on it. Drunk (y/n) just glares him down.

“Okay, well, maybe you’d like to enlighten me then?” Satoru asks. His throat is tight as he desperately works to maintain an even voice.

He can’t remember a time he’s ever been this upset with her. He can’t remember a time he’s even been mildly annoyed with her. But now here she is instigating and acting like-

No.

He looks over at her again, and although she looks like she could spit on him if he doesn’t choose his words carefully, his expression softens. And soon after so does his grip.

He lets out a breath.

“Look, you worried me, okay?” He admits, keeping his eyes on the road.

When he looks straight ahead, she can almost see his eyes. Something in her chest melts just a little bit.

“You never call”

“I don’t like phone calls” She mumbles in response.

“I know”

For a second, in her staggered breathing and slow blinks, she’s brought back to reality. And the reality was Gojo Satoru knew her. He’s known her for a while, and he knows her well. And he’s here now.

She forces herself to look away, to go back to the window and try not to think about Gojo Satoru and whatever feelings led him to being here right now, driving her home.

And then it dawns on her.

“I can’t go back to my place”

“What?”

His neck was going to strain with how frantically he was looking from her to the road.

“I can’t go back to my place” (y/n) repeats.

“Yeah I got that part,” He clenches his jaw, and he’s racking his brain to remember some old breathing exercise Ieiri had told him about a long time ago. His mind comes up empty. “Why?”

“My roommate broke up with her boyfriend” (y/n) sighs, before leaning over in her seat, beginning to unbuckle the uncomfortable straps around her ankles.

“Okay?” Gojo’s shaking his head, desperate for context, but clearly (y/n) was more invested in pulling the heels off her feet.

“Oh, he lost his mind and trashed our apartment”

“What?”

“Yeah, broke all our glass dishes, ripped frames off the walls, it was insane”

“Did you call the police?”

“I was out, but my roommate did. It’s fine, but my room is a mess still. She’s been staying with her family for support”

“Jesus Christ”

“Yeah,” (y/n) sighed, leaning her head back against the seat. “But she’ll be okay, I’ve got eyes on him,”

He glances over at her, just long enough to see a small smirk playing on the corner of her lips.

Right. Her cursed technique.

“As soon as he has the intention of coming to that building again, he’s going to feel a very sharp pain on the left half of his body,” She hums, and then rolls her head to the side to look over at him. “And that will be his spleen catching on fire”

Gojo lets out a low whistle.

“You’re gonna piss off the elders when he’s a medical mystery”

“Like you’ve ever given a shit what the elders think” (y/n) mutters.

He smiles to himself and doesn’t say anything more on the matter.

“Guess you’ll have to stay somewhere else then” He says instead.

“I’ve got a couch in my office that’s comfortable enough,” (y/n) shrugs. “You can just drop me off back at the school”

“That’s ridiculous. We’re not doing that”

(y/n) doesn’t say anything. Her fingers curl around the heels of her shoes that she’s holding in her lap.

She turns her gaze back to the window, and keeps to herself the rest of the ride. ___

Rushing yourself when you’re already incredibly panicked was always the wrong way to go. (y/n) knew that. But slowing herself down would only make her more late.

Yet there she was, balancing her cup of coffee atop enough stacks of file folders to fill a whole cabinet, and running through the hallways at full speed. Luckily years of rigorous training and acrobatics meant that her balance was impeccable.

Until a door opened right in her path, too close for her to stop herself in her tracks.

With a squeal her files were thrown up in the air as she threw her body to the side before she could run straight into it.

And like magic she caught all of her files, in perfect condition, not a single paper out of place.

“Ha! Yes!” She cheered to herself.

And just as quickly as she’d rejoiced, her shoulders slumped as she realized there was just one thing missing.

“Oh, no, my-”

“I think you dropped this”

She spun around upon hearing the voice of a stranger, and sure enough, there he was holding her paper cup, which was also perfectly intact.

But this wasn’t just any stranger. This was the stranger that she saw yesterday on the phone. With the strange white hair and strange sunglasses even though they were inside.

“Wow, thanks,” She breathed out, a bit embarrassed to have acted so crazy in front of him. “Sorry for throwing it” She adds sheepishly.

“Nah, don’t be,” He replied with a nonchalant shrug. “You must be (y/l/n)”

Something about him already knowing who she was only made her face feel hotter with embarrassment.

“Uh- yeah, just (y/n) though”

“Just (y/n),” The white haired man repeats with a click of his tongue. “Gojo Satoru, most powerful man in the world, teacher, and now escort-e of women in need” He introduces.

Well, he’s clearly confident.

(y/n) chuckles.

“Well thank you, Gojo Satoru, but I’m sure there are women elsewhere in need of your services”

He seems thrown off guard as she plucks the coffee from his hands and places it back on her stack of folders. With that she grins and heads back in the direction of her new office.

“You sure you don’t need help?” Gojo calls.

“Nope!” She hollers over her shoulder. “But thank you! See you around!”

And just like that she was running off again, having not learned a single lesson. But at least the mysterious and cute stranger she’d seen wasn’t a stranger anymore. ___

For some reason, she didn’t think to ask any questions when the car was parked. She grabbed her shoes and unbuckled her seatbelt, just as Gojo had rounded the car to get the door for her.

It wasn’t until he was guiding her inside that she thought twice about their whereabouts at all.

This must’ve been his place.

Her suspicions were confirmed when he pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door. She turned to him with wide eyes, a protest on the tip of her tongue.

But his head jerked in motion for her to go inside, and she couldn’t come up with a good enough reason not to, and so she found herself waltzing in as though she’d been there hundreds of times before.

Which in fact wasn’t close to true. She’d never been to his place before- neither one of them had ever been to each other’s places. And now she’s standing in the entryway looking into the living room and she’s… nervous.

“Bathroom’s down the hall to the left,” Satoru speaks, gesturing lamely in the direction he’d given her. “I don’t have any makeup wipes but uh there’s tissues?”

(y/n) stares at him for a moment, unsure what to do with this information.

“Is that bad?” Gojo asks, mistaking her confusion for judgment. “I could go buy some makeup wipes-?”

“No, no,” (y/n) shakes her head, turning to head off. “Tissues are, um, fine”

“Okay, great,” Gojo nodded. “I’m gonna try and find something for you to sleep in, since, yaknow, obviously..”

She couldn’t see his eyes behind the dark sunglasses, but she knew they were tracing the little mount of fabric of the dress that clung to her figure. Normally she’d find her hands tugging at the hem, pretending that would lengthen it. But instead of hiding in embarrassment, (y/n) glanced down at herself, admiring the pretty dress she’d chosen for her night out. Black did always suit her.

“I don’t really care what I wear to sleep in,” She says. And then maybe the alcohol gets on top of her a little bit before she continues with, “I don’t normally wear anything”

“Go,” Gojo points towards the bathroom, forcing himself to turn and walk away. “And help yourself to a glass of water while you’re at it”

With that she finally walked away, her feet sore from the heels she’d been wearing all night, and her steps were a bit staggered, but she made it to the bathroom just fine.

Once she was out of sight Satoru let out a sigh, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head so that he could rub his eyes.

She clearly loved to torture him, by whatever means necessary. And drunk (y/n) was rather cruel.

He’d yet to figure out what it was that had ruined her night, but he’d hoped that the playful change in attitude meant she was lightening up.

(Hoping she’d sober up didn’t seem probable, not until she passed out at least).

When he had texted Ieiri to try and figure out what (y/n’s) phone call was all about, she hadn’t given him any real answers. Just to ‘be a grown man and figure it out himself’. He’d tried asking her what the hell that meant but she set her phone to do not disturb pretty much after his first of many texts.

It wasn’t all that out of character for Ieiri to ignore him when he annoyed her too much. (y/n) was the one acting out of character tonight.

Had she been upset with him for a while, and tonight was her breaking point? Maybe the alcohol got on top of her and she couldn’t contain her hatred for him anymore?

Satoru opened his dresser drawer a little more aggressively than he needed to, nearly pulling the whole thing clean out. He sighed before carefully latching it back into place.

He just wanted to find what it was that he’d done so wrong. He was racking his brain of her behavior the last few weeks, trying to think of any little hint she could have given him that she wasn’t happy. There was nothing that came to mind, she’d seemed her usual, happy, playful self. Their friendship may have been based in nonsensical flirting, but it was a solid friendship. She knew that he was there for her, right?

Staring down at the plain tee shirt and sweatpants that he’d grabbed for her, he wondered if that was the problem. Maybe she was getting tired of his behavior.

The sinking feeling in his gut as soon as the thought crossed his mind told him that must’ve been it.

He hadn’t done anything, and that was just the problem, he hadn’t changed. He hadn’t gotten better, which he should have, for her.

And he should have known this all along, because the minute he’d laid eyes on her he’d had a gut feeling about her. He confirmed that feeling when they’d met, and every day since he’s found some excuse to be close to her, even if it meant bothering her, at least he’d get a smile with every annoyed eye roll she’d give him.

He held tightly onto the fabric in his hands.

He hadn’t been enough for her.

Something in him must have snapped, because with that thought he was heading right back out of his room.

And there was (y/n) standing in his living room, her back to him as she admired the only photo he had on the mantle. It was an old picture of him and Ieiri, back when they were in school. The picture was clearly folded, hiding someone behind itself. It looked awkward in the frame, and he’d known for a while that he should just put a new picture in it, but he hadn’t brought himself to do so.

“I got you some clothes,” Satoru spoke, and (y/n) jumped a bit as she spun around. “Sorry” He apologized on instinct.

“No, no I’m just surprised I didn’t hear you” She shook her head, before making her way over to him, taking the clothes from his hands.

She’d meant to take the offering and then leave, but something kept her there. Maybe it was nerves, or maybe it was the fact that he’d left his sunglasses in his messy hair and she was able to look straight into his eyes, which was something that didn’t come around that often.

She thought maybe he’d say something, seeing as the longer the silence continued while they just stood there, the more awkward it became. But he didn’t. He just stared at her. And he was the worst person to try to read, because he would never tell anyone what he was thinking, so there was never a chance in guessing.

With her teeth sawing into her cheek, (y/n) turns to make her way back to the bathroom to change.

Satoru waits in the living room, hands on his hips, in dead silence.

It remains silent when (y/n) returns from the bathroom, in a tee shirt that hangs on her like a dress and sweatpants that pool at her feet. She looks like a toddler that had gotten into her parents’ closet.

Satoru can’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead, make your jokes” (y/n) mutters, putting her hands up in mock surrender.

“What’s there to joke about?” He grins. “It’s about time I got you in my clothes”

She raised a brow, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His grin falters, only for a moment, but long enough for her to catch it. He just as quickly shakes his head, before pushing his sunglasses back down onto his nose.

“It means get to bed. I’ll get you a glass of water, but you’ve got to drink all of it before you go to sleep, alright?”

(y/n) blinks.

“I’ll just stay here,” She says, elbow jutting towards the couch. “Looks much nicer than the one in my office,” She adds, before taking account of the intricate details on the fine leather armrests. “Probably costs more than the entire office actually” She mumbles.

“No, no, you’re staying in the bed,”

(y/n’s) not sure she’s ever heard him sound so firm. She begins to think that she’ll just have to give in to the offer.

“Come on”

He beckons her to follow him, and without being told, her feet follow. She finds herself walking on the tips of her toes, trying to remain as quiet as possible.

When they reach his doorway, she waits there, while he wanders in and pulls back the covers to his bed.

Even I have to admit that’s the most enticing bed I’ve ever seen in my life, she thinks, eyeing the plush comforter that covers the king-sized mattress. Before he had pulled it open for her, it looked completely untouched.

“You don’t sleep here much, do you?” She asks as the thought crosses her mind.

She takes a few timid steps into the bedroom.

A small scoff escapes him before he turns back to her.

“Don’t sleep much at all”

She holds his gaze for a moment longer than she maybe should have, but she wasn’t expecting such a genuine, no, vulnerable, response. It wasn’t often Satoru voiced how he really felt, but it seemed tonight he couldn’t help himself.

“Yeah,” (y/n) glances down at the floor, toes curling into the soft carpet. “Me either”

With haste Gojo excuses himself from the room, muttering something about a glass of water. (y/n) watches him go, feeling her shoulders slump.

Being left alone in his room makes a chill run down her spine. It doesn’t quite feel right, like maybe she should stand in place, and not look at, and dare not touch anything.

Then there’s a part of her that presents itself, which begs her to act on her curiosities.

Luckily, the alcohol in her system was happy to be a little more impulsive than normal.

She wanders to his dresser first, eyeing the few things he had on top of it. Her fingers slide across the smooth oak as she studies a framed photo. It was a graduating class photo. A small smile graced her lips at the sight of a familiar pair of sunglasses. A young Shoko was also an amusing sight.

The sound of footsteps brought her back from her thoughts, and she quickly took a seat at the end of the bed.

Satoru strode in, glass of water in hand.

“Please try to drink all of this, okay?”

(y/n) simply nods, taking the glass, but she just stares down into it. Gojo’s brows furrow.

“What, you need a lemon in it or something?”

“No,” She mumbles, before looking back at him. “Satoru, I need to ask you something”

“No one ever likes hearing that, (y/n)” He chuckles. But when he sticks his hands into his pockets, she takes it as her cue to go on.

“Why did you come?”

“To pick you up?” He asks.

He knows full well what she meant.

She nods her head in a small motion.

“I told you I was worried,” He answers. “You should’ve heard yourself on the phone. Pretty concerning stuff, (y/n/n). Who knew you couldn’t hold your liquor”

Now (y/n) shakes her head.

“But why?”

Gojo shrugs, confused. His lips purse and he doesn’t know what she expects him to say.

“Why?” He repeats, eyebrows forming a knot. “Why was I worried?”

“Yeah,” (y/n’s) voice is as small as that of a child who’d just awoken from a nightmare. “I mean, I was with Ieiri,” She adds. “I would’ve been fine, it’s not like I was in any trouble”

“Well, it didn’t sound like it,” He sighs, and crouches down in front of her, so he could be at eye level with her as he spoke. “After you called and then hung up on me, I reached out to her to try to figure out where you were and what was going on”

“You did?”

He nods, and hesitates a moment, before ultimately saying fuck it and continuing.

“Truth be told, she wasn’t much help either. I think my two best girls had it out for me a little tonight, hm?”

His hand reaches out, taking a loose strand of her hair and carefully placing it behind her ear. (y/n) hopes she’s not blushing, but she knows it’s a lost cause. Satoru’s fingers linger near her jaw for a moment before he drops his hand.

“Is that why you were upset earlier?” He asks. “You wanted to go with Ieiri? You were upset with me for coming?”

She stares into the dark glass that covers his eyes, getting lost in her own reflection as her drunken thoughts swirl around in her mind in a tornado of infatuation and fear. She’s scared that if she opens her mouth too hastily, the wrong thing will come spilling out, and she’ll scare him off like a wild animal that didn’t know any better than to run.

And while it was difficult to navigate her thoughts at the moment, she knew that scaring him off was the last thing that she would ever want.

She reaches out to him this time. She’s unsure if she’d be able to touch him, unsure if he would have put his infinity up as soon as he’d pulled his hand away from her just moments ago.

But to her surprise, she’s able to carefully take holds of his sunglasses. She pauses, as if in shock, or maybe it was just her nerves, before she slowly begins to slide them off his face. She was certain he would have told her to stop, or swat her hands away. But again, tonight he was full of surprises, as he just sat there, and let her take them off.

As she folds them up and sets them on the mattress beside her, she’s careful not to dirty the lenses.

She gives herself just a few seconds to admire his eyes, before she finally answers him.

“No,”

Her voice is barely a whisper. Satoru’s lucky he’s close enough to hear her.

“I was upset because…” (y/n’s) confidence was dwindling with every second that passed with his eyes on her like this.

It was like she could see every bit of concern, and confusion, swirling within the pools of his irises. It made her heart beat erratically in her chest. It made her fingers curl into the edge of the mattress, gripping tightly to it like it were a lifeline. It made her breaths short and every second longer than the last.

She was so hopelessly in love with him that sometimes it felt like she couldn’t even function.

“I’m drunk,” She sighs.

Gojo nods, dropping his gaze for a moment, defeated, certain that she was going to say forget it and bid him goodnight. His eyes land on her hands, gripped around the edge of his mattress like a vice. Her knuckles were white, and he thought she might even be trembling a bit. He makes a mental note to grab her an extra blanket.

“And I hate everything,” She continues, instantly bringing his attention back to her. Her eyes flicker between his, and her lips hesitate to say what she’s been dying to get off her chest for quite some time. With a shaky breath, she mentally counts to three, and then whispers, “Everything except for you”

He’s frozen for a moment, staring at her with eyes so ablaze she could almost forget they were blue. The corner of his lips tug ever so slightly upwards, and a sense of relief relaxes his tense muscles.

“I think that might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, sweetheart,” He says.

His words are teasing, but his tone is as genuine as his smile.

He stands.

“Would you like me to tuck you in?” He asked, lifting the blanket next to her.

“Stay” She says, taking the blanket from him and pulling it back further, before sliding into the open space.

“What?” He asked, having heard her clearly.

“Stay,” (y/n) says again. “With me”

He starts to shake his head, because it doesn’t exactly feel right. She was drunk, she might not know what she’s saying, right?

But she pats the space next to her and gives him a small smile, and he thinks that she knows she’s making his heart melt.

“(y/n)-”

“Please?” She asks softly. “Just till I fall asleep?”

He lets out a sigh, before nodding his head faintly.

(y/n) grins, and he quickly shoves her abandoned glass of water in her face.

“Take a few big drinks of this first,” He demands, which she quickly obliges to. He almost laughs at how quickly she chugs half the glass down. “Alright, alright, don’t choke” He chuckles, taking the cup back and setting it on his nightstand.

(y/n) shuffled under the covers before laying down. She couldn’t contain the moan that came out upon laying her head on the most feathery pillow she’s ever felt.

Gojo looked over at her, with a brow raised and a wide smirk.

“This is the most comfortable pillow ever,” She breathed out. “What is this, feathers?”

“I have no idea,” Satoru chuckles with amusement before sitting down on the bed. “I’m glad you like it”

While he settles under the blanket, and tries his best to pretend like this was normal and they’d done this a thousand times before, (y/n) rolls onto her stomach to press her face into the feathery goodness. She inhales deeply, taking in the clean smell of freshly washed sheets that always scratched the right itch in her mind.

Satoru admires her while she’s not paying attention to him. Every one of his self-preserving instincts are telling him he needs to go- that she should be alone for the night and staying here with her couldn’t possibly be good. It would make him look vulnerable if he stayed.

But then (y/n) rolls onto her back, her eyes catching his in the process, and he lays down, resting his head on his pillow.

It is pretty comfy.

“Okay if I turn the lights off now?” He asked.

(y/n) hums an affirmative tune, and Gojo doesn't even have to sit up to reach the lamp on the bedside table, tugging the little string and submerging them in darkness.

It’s silent for a moment, and he assumes that she also thinks that the dark added another layer of intimacy that neither one of them planned on for the evening.

After a minute or so, (y/n) shuffles around under tha blankets, rolling onto her side and facing him. He turns his head to find her looking at him. Even in the dark he can faintly make out the soft features of her face.

“Thank you, Satoru,” She says softly. “I… I hate sleeping alone”

He nods back at her, before mirroring her position. He hooks an arm under his pillow to get more comfortable before speaking.

“Anytime” He hums.

“That so?” She responds, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“Yeah,” He shrugs a shoulder. “Might take a while to get your apartment fixed up. If you need somewhere to crash for a while… you could stay here a bit longer”

(y/n’s) heart does a little backflip in her chest, or at least it feels like it. She added ‘hospitality’ to her mental checklist of things that made him more attractive to her.

“Yeah, well, I dunno. Appreciate it though,” She mumbles. Her finger absentmindedly drew patterns on the sheets. “I’ve kinda been a shitty guest so far, huh?”

“You?” He muses, and then shakes his head. “You could never”

(y/n) lets out a humorless laugh.

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for seeing your place for the first time” She says, and she regrets it almost as soon as it leaves her mouth.

“Oh?” Satoru chimes. “And what did you have in mind sweetheart? Less clothes perhaps? Hm, or perhaps more rose petals, a bit of wine-?”

“Yeah yeah laugh it up Satoru,” (y/n) rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I meant”

“You maybe meant it a little like that though” He teases.

(y/n) shakes her head, looking up at the ceiling as if it were going to tell her how to handle this idiotically charming man.

“I would’ve liked it to be on better terms” She admits.

Satoru turns off the act, but his smile remains as he continues to pry her into opening up more.

“Well, what did you have in mind, then?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” (y/n) shrugs. “Realistically it probably would’ve been you begging me to come help you with the paperwork you procrastinate so much on,” She muses, her imagination beginning to roll it’s film. “But… a movie might have been nice. Or drinks, or something”

Her thoughts get away from her for a bit as she imagines Satoru inviting her to his place, how he would have answered the door and ushered her in, taking her coat, showing her around his place. He’d probably be over the top with his enthusiasm, but she would have found it charming like she always does.

“Sounds like a date” He hums.

Slowly, her gaze wanders from the ceiling to where he’s laying, still on his side, still studying her as though he were trying to complete a puzzle in the dark.

She laughs softly to herself.

He thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard.

“I don’t think you’re capable of such a thing,” She murmurs. “That’s why I’m here now, like this” Her hand gestures vaguely in the air.

“Like this?” He repeats, hoping for clarity once again.

(y/n) hesitates, anxiety attacking her mind and her fondness-warmed heart.

“Don’t you think if we were to do such a ludicrous thing as a date, we would have done it by now?” She asks him. “I don’t think that the Gojo Satoru can be tamed by just any one woman, after all” She adds with another short laugh, hoping to lighten the mood and clear her own anxieties.

He laughs with her, and she’s relieved that she didn’t upset him, but she can’t deny that her heart sinks a little in her chest.

His tongue darts out to wet his suddenly dry lips before he ignores his need to keep up a barrier with everyone he knows, and shuffles a little bit more towards her. Her eyes noticeably widen as he does this, which he enjoys more than he should have.

“You’re not just any woman, sweetheart,” He murmurs.

He’s close enough to her now that she can faintly feel his warm breath against her nose and lips. Her heart can barely keep up with the gymnastics it was doing.

“But you’re right, I suppose, I don’t think I can be tamed either. But I’d happily let you prove me wrong, any day. Or, well, night”

It must be the alcohol, but she swore her entire body felt like someone had poured gasoline over her and dropped a match.

“You can’t do that” Her lips trembled.

“Can’t do what?”

“You can’t-” She takes in a short breath of air she didn’t realize she needed. “You can’t just say things like that”

He chuckles, humored greatly by her nervous display.

“Why’s that?” He asks, his smirk only widening as he catches her gaze darting down towards his mouth, before meeting his eyes again.

A knot forms between (y/n’s) brows.

“Because tomorrow I’m going to wake up and you won’t be here, and tomorrow I’ll go home like none of this ever happened. As if the whole point of going out tonight wasn’t to forget you, only for you to show up anyways and remind me of all the reasons why I should be forgetting you in the first place. And then we’ll go back to work and you’ll continue to mess with me by flirting with me and I don’t know what to do anymore because- because it’s not funny anymore Satoru I’m actually-”

She stops herself before she could admit she actually was in love with him. But it didn’t matter anyhow, because she’d already admitted enough to make him question her.

“You went out drinking to forget me?” He asks.

“No” She lies.

“That’s what you just said”

“No I didn’t”

“Yes… you did. You said the whole point of going out tonight was to forget me,”

(y/n) doesn’t say anything. It’s not like denying it was working, he’d obviously heard her, and even if she was a good liar, he was an even better lie detector.

“You got drunk to forget that you… you have feelings for me? Romantic feelings? You feel romantically about me?”

She stays silent. It seems like the safest option at the moment. She’d ruled out lying, and running away wasn’t exactly an option either. Maybe she could pretend to fall asleep?

“(y/n),” His hand reaches out, resting on top of hers, halting her erratic doodling on the sheets. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What was I supposed to say?” She whispers, a small, sad smile on her face. “That I fell for the whole stupid act and couldn’t get over it?”

Gojo shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, what act?” He asks. “I’ve been flirting with you since- well, since we met, I’m pretty sure down to the day. It wasn’t some act, sweetheart. Every compliment or innuendo or invitation, all of it, I meant all of it,”

(y/n) blinks, her lips parted as she tried to process what he was saying. Her mind wasn’t as fuzzy as it was an hour and a half ago, but with all of the new information, she was having trouble processing all of it.

“You think I never meant it when I told you how beautiful you are? Or perfect? Or brilliant? Or strong? You thought I was just messing with you?”

“Satoru…” (y/n) shakes her head, the gears in her mind all jammed up by his words.

“Sweetheart, tell me, why in the world do you think I would drop everything in a heartbeat to come pick your drunk mopey ass from the shittiest bar in town? And do you really think I’m so terrible at getting my paperwork done that I need your help and only your help with it every week?” He chuckles to himself. “Sweetheart, have a little more faith in me”

Her throat burns hot, and she realizes then that she’s been fighting the urge to let her eyes water.

“What are you-” Her words are almost whimpered, and she pauses to catch her breath before speaking again. “What are you saying then, you’ve h-had feelings for me this whole time?”

His lips curl into a smile, and he takes his hand off of hers, so that he can reach closer, and lay his palm against her jaw, fingers brushing gently against her cheekbone.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” He murmurs, his eyes following his index finger as he draws small shapes into her skin. “So… do you still want to forget about me?”

Her quivering lips curl into a smile, and a tear slips from her eye.

“It didn’t work anyways,” She says in a hushed whisper. “I ended up calling you anyways, didn’t I?” She reminds him. Her tear slides against his thumb, and he hurriedly brushes it away. “I fear forgetting you isn’t going to work”

“Good,” He says, grinning ear to ear. “So that means I can invite you to my place for drinks? Or to do my paperwork for me?”

“A date?” She hums.

He nods his head.

“Okay”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” She says again, smiling so wide it hurts. “Yeah, okay, I’ll do that”

He’s smiling back at her, his thumb stroking gently back and forth against her cheek. Her poor heart was about to combust.

She leans in closer to him, her nose brushing into his, prodding softly as she closes her eyes, letting all of her other senses take him in. The warmth that bled from his hand against her jaw. The way he smells like pine, and fruit.

Just as she’s about to close the distance, he beats her to it.

His lips slide over hers with ease, as though he’s kissed her infinite times before now.

She melts almost instantly, kissing him back as softly as she could, trying to contain the overwhelming sense of urgency inside of her.

Satoru drops his hand from her cheek, and it briefly rests on her shoulder before sliding to her hip, so that he can pull her in closer to him.

Her lips, her body, they feel pleasantly warm against him in a way he’d never felt before.

When she parts from him, her forehead resting against his as she tries to quietly catch her breath. A small chuckle escapes him as he brings his hand back to her face, cupping her cheek and leaning back just enough that he can get a proper look at her.

“Sweetheart,” He hums. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that”

Her smile tells him she knows just how long it was.

He steals another kiss from her, and he tries to be quick, but he just can’t help but hold his breath a little longer, for just a few seconds more of her soft lips against his.

“Satoru,” She murmurs against his lips when they part again. “I’m in love with you”

“I’m in love with you too, sweetheart,” He replies, punctuated with another kiss. “Stay the week with me” He requests, before kissing her again.

“The whole week?” She hums in between another.

“Mhm” Is all he’s able to respond with, his mouth far too occupied to carry a conversation. (y/n) giggles until he leans back.

“And you don’t think people will notice when I show up to work with you at the same time every day?” She muses.

“Let them notice” He sighs, prodding his nose against hers as his lips search for hers once more.

“And our students?”

This time she steals a small kiss.

“You don’t think they’ll be happy for me?” He murmurs, and she giggles again.

“I think your students might tease you a bit” She suggests.

Gojo shakes his head, grinning at her.

“They’re just jealous,” He affirms. “Because I’ve got the prettiest, dopest girl in the whole school”

She laughs louder, bursts of bubbling giggles filling the room as she shakes her head at his ridiculousness. But as silly as it was, her cheeks were warm with a flattered blush.

“We can talk about you staying tomorrow,” Satoru tells her, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Why don’t you get some rest tonight, and I’ll make you a nice breakfast to cure your hangover tomorrow, and we’ll talk about it then, hm?”

She sits there for a minute, smiling at him, at his sweet smile and pretty eyes. Her heart has never felt more full than it was right now, and she thinks maybe this is the first time she’s ever truly loved someone. She could sit here for hours and stare at him. Unbeknownst to her, he was thinking the same thing.

“Sounds like a plan” She murmurs.

“Alright then,” Satoru has to bite on his cheek to keep himself from grinning like a madman. “Get some beauty sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up”

He rolls onto his back, sliding his arm around her shoulders to keep her close to him as he lets his eyes fall shut.

He can’t quite hear, but he can feel her lips move softly against his neck as she mumbles something he can only perceive as a bid goodnight. With a smile on his face, he runs a hand through her hair, carefully untangling it with ease. He only has to lean forward a little bit to press his lips to the crown of her head.

“Goodnight, sweetheart” He murmurs back to her, followed by another, softer kiss.

[ i’ve got my mind on you ] ___

a/n: squealed and kicked my feet thru most of writing this btw :3

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