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#this is how they are on my head all the time
halorvic · 2 days
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#sars cov 2#covid 19#i've interacted with 4 different friends/acquaintances in the past month alone who have all been hospitalised after having a stroke#(and in one case multiple strokes)#one who i visited in hospital over the weekend had a (unmasked) nurse coughing up a lung in her room 👍#and one of them who had to undergo surgery also had to be moved to a different hospital#bc the ward they were keeping him in was full of confirmed covid patients 👍👍#idk how many times it needs to be said before it gets through people's heads but VACCINES ARE NOT ENOUGH#and encouraging ppl to rely solely on them when there are already plans to jack up the prices so you have to KEEP PAYING for boosters#for an ONGOING mass-disabling event is so laughably unrealistic and absurd and flat-out demonic#you need to mitigate the actual spread of covid by WEARING A MASK + fighting for CLEAN AIR/proper ventilation in public spaces!!!!!!#ppl are so eager to forget the whole 'break the chain of transmission' thing and how effective masking is and so this is where we're at#'i got infected and infected other ppl who might die or become permanently disabled but it's no big deal bc no one else wears a mask#so if /i/ didn't infect them someone else would have anyway so it's not my fault and really its got nothing to do with me and my choices'#if everyone is responsible then no one is responsible - that's how it works right?#it's no wonder some ppl go rabid at even the sight of someone wearing a mask and minding their own business#ppl seeking treatment for unrelated conditions/illnesses and then dying from covid caught in hospitals#due to lack of npis/basic mitigation measures - no regulations no accountability#we truly live in a hell (''new normal'') of our own making#anyway none of this is new news at all i mostly thought it might be good to share the info graphic abt signs of stroke#covid has been given free reign and chances are increasing as to how likely you'll encounter it happening to someone you know at some point#also heart attacks and pots and alzheimer's etc etc etc
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tonycries · 20 hours
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So Lonely In My Mansion!
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Synopsis. When he’s sorry, what better way to show you than in bed?
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, apology séx, spítting, bodyworshíp, stuff with pantíes, bréeding, chokíng, cúmplay, Nanami and Geto are a bit mean, squírting, thígh séx, Gojo’s blindfold, overstím, oral (female receiving), pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.9k
A/N. Hope y’all are having a lovely day <3
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Too full!
Now, Toji knows he’ll more than make up for forgetting to join your lil’ shopping spree anyway. Ten times over, in fact, with the way he has you on all fours, tears rolling down your cheeks, pretty lil’ moans muffled into your pillow. 
Stuffing your poor cunt full over and over and-
“Is my pretty baby still mad?” he’s dragging his lips down your neck, throbbing cock ramming into you from behind. Bruising - like he was the one angry here. “Still fuckin’ pouty?”
Too needy, too delirious. It’s all you can do to grit out a determined, “Y-yes…” Your breathless gasps only make his smirk widen, hips stuttering as they get sloppier.
“Aww, what a shame.” Toji coos, angling his head just right to catch the heavenly sight of your poor overfilled pussy, all dripping and painted white with his cum. Eyes lighting up at how you gush around him with each thrust. “Guess I jus’ have to give you another one then, hm?”
“A-another?”
And God, Toji doesn’t even know if he can cum again - vision spotty now, jolts of electricity running down his spine each time he plunges into your snug pussy. 
But the way you’re immediately scrambling to hold onto the headboard - the sheets - just anything to hold onto some semblance of sanity has Toji wanting to more than ever. So painfully good as he desperately speeds up. He needs to - and fuck if he wasn’t going to try - because you’re only getting wetter at his words. 
“Fuck- squeezin’ me s’fucking tight.” he groans, pushing your skirt up higher, not having the patience to even think of taking that damn thing off. “Ya like this, huh? Like me f-filling you up until m’sorry?”
You can only give him such a delirious little nod, one that Toji doesn’t even know if you realize you’re giving. One that has him needing to show you how sorry he is by filling you up so much you can’t even think about how he forgot to accompany you on your lil’ shopping spree. To fuck you so hard into the mattress that you can’t remember anything else but him-
“Toji!” you keen, as he snakes down his strong arms push your legs further apart to show off. Burning at the stretch of how he was handling you like his favorite ragdoll. “What-”
“Said m- ngh- sorry.” he interrupts abruptly, voice so ragged that it takes you a second to even recognize it as your boyfriend. “See.”
And how could you not? 
You were awe-struck at that creamy ring around the base of his swollen cock. The way your gummy walls were sucking him up so easily, fucking back bruisingly into him. 
“See how sorry I am?” One hand tightens on your hips, the other snaking up to press down on your lower stomach. Hard. “See?” Both your jaws fall open at the way your ravaged pussy just coats Toji’s cock in such an obscene white mess. “Sorry, doll, shoulda been there for you.”
“Oh- fuck, s’too much.” And maybe you’re stubborn, maybe you just don’t know what’s good for you - because despite it all you manage to choke out, “N’ you don’t ah- mean it.”
Eyes raising to meet his and oh- oh, you weren’t making it out alive. 
“I do.” Toji drops his head into your neck, running his mouth. Rolling his thumb against your achingly clit as if to prove his point, “Next time m’gonna hah- watch you try on all those pretty outfits.” Hips rocking forward to slam into your sloppy pussy faster and faster. “Kiss you s-senseless in front of any fuckin’ scrubs that thought they had a ngh- chance.”
Movements only growing more erratic - more feral - with each broken little whine that’s fucked out of you. Like he knew he was so close to breaking you. Ruining you. 
Just the thought of it has Toji slamming his dick into you further, mentally cursing himself for forgetting your little invitation today. 
“And this lil’ thing?” he bunches up the flimsy fabric of your skirt. “And those-” nodding his head towards the stacks of shopping bags you barely got to look over before a sorry Toji had you shoved onto the bed. “I would’ve taken em’ all off as soon as I was in that changing stall.”
“I-I get it.” you finally break. Squealing at the hips hitting yours harder, his heavy balls squeezing so painfully. “I get it ngh- I get it-”
“Heh, nah- gotta show you how s-sorry I really am.”
You have an inkling of what he was implying - something that didn’t bode well for your abused cunt, if the way Toji’s cock was twitching wildly inside you was anything to go by. Not a moment wasted before Toji’s pushing your knees up all the way until they were at your tits. A sure sign that he was close. Looking like he was in such delicious agony as he taunted you into asking. 
“H-how?” 
“By fuckin’ you in all of that.” Head tilting at the bags upon bags from earlier today, “Then we’re goin’ shopping all over again.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Squirt if you’re sorry
“Keep your legs open f’me.”
But it was so hard when Nanami already had you spread so shamefully in front of that obscene mirror, placed oh-so conveniently right in front of the plush hotel bed. Sat so prettily on his lap, your back against his hard front, being split-apart on his throbbing cock. 
Any more and you think you might just die. 
“Is that so?” he whispers hotly in your ear and- “Think this is too much?”
Oh, shit, did you say that out loud?
But right now you were too delirious - to fucked-out - to even think of forming a coherent response to that, let alone be embarrassed about your little slip-up. Running solely on the aftershocks of your nth orgasm and the feeling of Nanami’s thumb drawing steady, slow little circles on your sensitive clit. 
“Get it together now, my love.” your husband seems to decide that your broken whine speak for themselves. Placing such a mockingly gentle kiss on your forehead, “M’still not even halfway through my apology.”
Ah, yes, the apology - the sole thing that got you into this entire mess. That one off-hand joke that Nanami should apologize for being 7 minutes late for your date - the one that had you shoved into the nearest suite, while he ‘apologizes’ to you over and over and-
“Now now, darling.” Nanami squishes your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, forcing you to look up at the mirror. “Look at me when I apologize.”
Several things happen at once - your eyes just barely make contact with Nanami’s darkened, dangerous ones in the mirror, and then it’s like something snapped. Because he’s thrusting up deeper into your snug cunt, drinking in all your pretty gasps as he starts up at another relentless, sloppy pace. 
Not even fucking easing you into it because you wanted an apology, right? And Nanami was sure going to give you one - fuck you like he’s sorry.
“M’sorry!” you keen, bucking wildly into Nanami’s touch. Cock so hot and heavy in-between your swollen folds - still not having came even once yet. “Was- was a joke- I can’t oh- my god.”
He knows - oh, how he knows. But it’s just so fun to tease you this way, and Nanami’s not sorry about that one bit. 
So he only lets out a huffed laugh. “Why are you sorry, my love?” Shifting his hips to massage all the right spots that’ll have you breathless and seeing stars. Hitting that one magical spot over and over. “I was the one that’s late.”
And God, you could just cry. You are - big, fat tears streaming down your face, dripping down Nanami’s wrist where he was holding your lolling head steady - but, of course, you’re too far gone to even realize at this point.
“Shhhh, lemme take care of you,” Nanami rocks his hips impossibly harder into yours, eyes on the mirror just devouring you almost as much as he was ruining you with his dick. Watching all your adorable gasps, the way you twitch, how your mouth drops into a soft oh! as he licks a slow stripe up your tears. Dangerous. “Lemme show you how sorry I am.”
And he does, cooing at how your eyes widen when he angles your head to show you the fucking sinful view down below. 
It was so hard to look too, how your snug cunt was trying to suck the soul out of him. Sloppy - making such a mess of the crisp sheets below. Quivering like you didn’t know whether you wanted to run away or to sink down for more more more-
You’re jolting in his bruising grasp, “Hngh- m’- fuck fuck fuck. Yes, oh my god- Ken-”
“Yeah? Ya like this?” He’s fucking you back rougher into him, merciless. Absolutely fucking merciless - and Nanami was only glad he thought to choose a sound-proof suite. “Think m’sorry yet?” Biting down on your neck, hard. “Because I’m sooo fucking sorry, my love.”
He lets out a cruel chuckle, one hand groping down your breasts - your hips - your thighs. Pulling them even further apart like he wanted to break you. 
Because Nanami wasn’t fucking sorry, why would he be? But oh how he loved teasing you. Acting all pissed off while he threw you around like his favorite toy, giving you a bit of your own medicine. How sexy you were when he did. 
“M’sorry.” he breathes against your ear, nibbling on your lobe. “M’sorry m’sorry m’sorry- Next time I’ll be hah- early-” Pooling the fresh wave of your salty tears on his tongue as he toys with your pretty clit. “N’ next time m’gonna make you squirt the first time-”
“Shit- Ken, m’cumming m’cumming-”
Almost like your body is listening to Nanami, you’re squirting all over his achingly hard cock. Absolutely drenching him in all your sweet sweet juices till he was glistening in the dim lighting. Some specks even landing on the mirror in front of you. 
And shit you’re out of control now, limbs trembling, such sinful moans leaving your swollen lips. Loud. Uncontrollable. Nanami’s next words barely audible over them-
“Your turn now.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Nice (and sorry)
“S-so mean-” It’s the only thing you can gasp out, “Y-you’re still not forgiven-” 
Oh, Geto knows. And he doesn’t really feel bad about using his apology to his advantage - not one bit, actually. You won’t hear a word of apology from his sly mouth, instead, he’s got you straddling his pretty lips, breathless and shaking above him. 
“Even when m’being nicer than usual?~” he hums into your clothed pussy, nose-deep and breathing in your essence so fucking sinfully. “Ya sure about that?”
Disgruntled, “What- ngh- what do you mean?” 
“Oh just that-” He licks a long, purposeful stripe up your drenched panties, adding to the mess of your juices beading through the fabric. And God it takes everything in Geto to not just rip off that flimsy underwear and tonguefuck you like he wanted to. “You’re being so loud. Sure you’re still mad?”
You hated it - how he was peeking up at you with those hooded eyes, pupils blown. Hated that predatory glint in them that sends shockwaves right down to your very core. Hated how he was right.
“Th-that doesn’t hah- mean anything.” you scoff, and the excuse sounds flimsy even to you. The way you were grinding down deeper onto his tongue certainly not helping your case either. 
And oh of course Geto pulls away at that, obscene little slicks of string snapping from his tongue and your wet core, your disappointed whine going straight to his rock-hard cock. What was it you were saying earlier? Something about him being too much of a tease? Well, you were about to eat your words before Geto Suguru offered you an apology. 
“Yeah,” he let his tongue dart out, letting your slick pool through your panties and onto his tongue. “N’ this doesn’t mean anything either, huh?”
No warning before he’s surging forward, tongue pushing through your panties to just barely tease your sloppy entrance.
You can only grip at Geto’s long, inky locks - trying your very best to not look like you’re absolutely on cloud nine as he alternates between toying with that first ring of resistance and sucking on your clit. All through your panties.
“Now now,” a hand on your hip stops you from all but ripping your panties off your hips - something that Geto would’ve already done by now, usually. “Keep ‘em on.”
It’s like he’s trying to drive you mad - wants to drive you mad. Torturing you slowly with that soft tongue and that smirk you can feel against your dripping cunt. As if to say - you really think he was a tease before? You haven’t seen the least of it. 
“S’fuckin’ sloppy f’me even through these slutty panties.” he grunts, lips smacking against your swollen ones. “Don’ lie - you like this, huh? Like what a tease I am? Acting so tough when m’so sorry?”
Okay, maybe Geto lied - so what if he said he’s sorry? It was all worth it at how you get so wetter, slick just glistening all over his lips and chin. Walls clenching around nothing - because might’ve said sorry, but oh is he still as petty as ever.
“N-no-” you whimper, and both of you know it’s a lie. Close - you were so close. 
Too close, if you asked Geto.
Smack!
A quick, sharp sting on your ass - just a little reminder that this is Geto. Your Geto. And it’s so torturous - so addictive - when he immediately shifts them ever-so-slightly. Wasting no time before lapping at your juices. Just loving the way your jaw drops open in disbelief as he throws his head back to let it slide down, down, down his throat.
“My girl is such a liar.” Grinning at the way you jolt on top of him with each teasing lick at your quivering hole, dragging your slopppy pussy all over his face. “S’fuckin’ wet and you still think you’re mad? And I’m being so-” Rolling his tongue against your clit. Hard. “-nice, too.” 
He was not - he knew it. In fact, he was probably being meaner than usual. Mean with the way he thinks your fucked-out head shake speaks enough. 
Of course, you still have to run your mouth when you’re being absolutely ruined by him. Whining out an unconvincing. “M’still- m-mad.” - even when you’re deliriously riding his pretty mouth.
Without a word, Geto snaps back your useless panties back in place. One hand on your hip, easily lifting you off his face - letting you fall back prettily onto his lap as he gets up. Weeping tip just nudging your dripping entrance as he reaches behind to tie back his long hair.
And you’re so disappointed at how you were so close, that you almost miss the words that spill from his mouth next.
“Then, will you still be mad if I fuck you just as nicely?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Ruined panties?!
“Please baby, let me put it in. Please?” 
God, how badly you wanted to just break and give your needy boyfriend exactly what he wants - to let him fuck you how he wanted. But, no, he’d just ruined your favorite pair of underwear and you were not going to let him off so easily again. 
“Fuck- Cho.” you huff, fighting to keep your voice steady. “If y’wanna get off to my panties so bad, then ngh- just use that.”
“But, baby. M’sorry.” Choso’s head drops to the crook of your neck, abs rubbing up against your back so sinfully from where he was all pressed up. “I’ll be good this time. So good.” Hands groping underneath your t-shirt, throbbing erection grinding against your absolutely drenched panties. From Choso’s precum or your own slick? You have no idea. “Please?”
And he’s so desperate that Choso probably doesn’t even realize the way he’s sliding his soaked cock between your swollen folds. Fucking his hips forwards languidly, hissing at how dripping wet you already were.
“T-this is being ‘good’?” you gasp at the feeling of his dick, so hot and heavy where you needed him the most. And it’s such a sinful little sound that he immediately snakes a hand down to toy with your throbbing clit - wanting, needing more of it. 
“Yes.” nibbling down your neck. It’s like a dam has been broken with each cute little whine escaping your throat. “Yes yes yes yes- Wan’ this so bad. Please.” 
Your angry facade is crumbling away bit by bit - and both of you know it. Especially when Choso cranes his head until it’s mere inches away from yours. Dark strands of hair tickle your face as he catches your lips in such a searing kiss.
“Oh god.” he groans into your lips, hips stuttering forward in-between your thighs. Precum smearing everywhere and adding to the mess already down below. “Yeah- kiss me properly, baby. I deserve at least that, hm?”
A resounding rip! of fabric sounds down from below. And you don’t know what you break the kiss to say - to tease him some more? Beg him to just fuck you the way you know he wants? 
But it doesn’t matter, because as soon as Choso feels your lips leaving his, he’s chasing after them again with a pained grunt. Licking so sloppily at the seam of your lips, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you deeper onto his cock.
“No- no no no, kiss me.” You can feel his prominent veins rubbing up against you, throbbing in a lewd little thump! thump! thump! as his hips get more calculated. Purposeful. “M’sorry m’sorry, Kiss me ngh- kiss me- need it. Need you-”
And God you should’ve known that Choso wouldn’t be acting this good for so long. 
No sooner are you grinding back down on him in shallow, mindless little motions - he’s pulling your panties to the side just enough for his weeping tip to drag lazily against your folds. 
“Fuck- please, baby.” He sounds so wrecked already - and looks like it just as much. Skin flushed, eyes hazy and miles away, kiss-bitten lips letting out such sinful little moans that you just know he’ll be embarrassed about later. “M’sorry.”
Panties completely soiled with precum and slick, absolutely ruined in just the way you’d been telling off Choso for not too long ago. Nothing but a slightly tattered, dripping wet mess. What a shame.
What a shame you couldn’t care less.
Scoffing, “F-fine.” But it comes out a bit more breathless than you intended - because Choso’s desperation was contagious. Hands everywhere, chest heaving, fat head pulsing right below your sloppy entrance. “Only this time m’ngh- l-letting you off easy.”
You know it won’t be the last time - and your boyfriend does, too. 
Because he doesn’t waste a second. The sentence barely leaving your mouth before Choso’s sinking into your heavenly pussy inch by fucking inch. Brows scrunching together at the way you were sucking the soul out of him, neat fingernails on your hips as he holds you still. 
“G-god- so fucking- good. So tight-” he hisses lowly, thrusting in shallow, mindless little movements just to squeeze inside your walls. “Ah- feel so much better than any panties.” 
“S-so needy, Cho-”
“I know, m’sorry, m’sorry. Hah-” So fucking massive that it feels like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. The stretch too sinful, your panties too soaked, breath too hot against your ear as he whispers.“F-fuck- Now, be good f’me, hm?”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - “No more tears.”
“Shut up.” you flinch as he spits on your cunt once. Twice. Feeling like such a fucking toy as he smears it with the mess of your sweet juices down below. “How dare you use those evil, evil tears.”
Why would the great Ryomen Sukuna ever apologize? Why would he ever have you sat on his throne, big arms spreading your legs so sinfully in front of him? Just ravaging your poor abused cunt with his swollen cock. The complete opposite of his image as the merciless king of curses. 
Well, that’s exactly what was happening. And it turns out that only a few tears and a single huff of him “not spending enough time” with you today was all it took - to have him bowing down to you. 
And all you can do is let out a broken, “I-I didn’t.” 
And that only seems to spur Sukuna further, like he was angry more than anything. Angry at you for being so cute and pouty when you’re mad. Angry at himself for letting his pretty lil’ human get this way. Spoiled, so spoiled. 
“Liar.”  he grunts, spreading your swollen folds further apart with his index - just circling your sloppy hole. “The only time you’re s’pposed to be cryin’ is on my fingers. And-” he slides his angry, weeping tip down your cunt in a long, wet movement. Up and down. Up and down. Smirking at how you’re bucking and pleading under his touch. “-my cock.”
As if to prove his point, Sukuna’s dipping his cock past that first feeble ring of resistance - difficult, with how you’re clenching around him so sinfully as if you’re trying to milk him already.
“Yeah, jus’ like that.” he groans, thumb rubbing obscene little circles on your poor clit. “Suckin’ me up so good. Do y’get sluttier when you’re mad? When you’re makin’ me apologise?”
“Ngh- sh-shut up.”
And oh for how suave Sukuna’s acting, he can’t deny the way his heart squeezes so dangerously at the way you’re letting out delirious little moans. Fucking you so completely dumb. 
And he was barely halfway in still.
Legs spreading obscenely wider, clawing onto the chair - his wrist - his shoulders, just anything to help drag your sloppy pussy all over his toned pelvis. To fuck him deeper. 
“Heh, cryin’ like you want me to be like this.” He’s rocking his hips in jagged, shallow thrusts that have you letting out such teary moans. “Want me to fuckin’ apologise?” Hard enough that you know it’ll leave marks - his heavy balls on your ass, fingers on your clit, hands spreading your calves. “Well m’sorry, see? M’so so sorry, brat.”
You gasp, “S-so mean, Kuna- hngh-
Yet he sounds anything but. Tone way too fucking delighted at the prospect of having you crying on his thick cock than over some stupid little argument. 
And fuck, Sukuna should tease you about how fucking wet you are, how you’re grinding your hips down on him like such a slut. So sloppy all over the expensive throne - gonna be a hell of a job for whoever cleans this. 
But, ah, those pretty lil’ tears welling up in your eyes will surely be the death of him. Or maybe the death of you.
“Now now,” he can’t help but huff out a dark chuckle at your disappointed whine as he pulls his fingers away from your throbbing clit. Biting back a deep groan at how glossy they were, just drenched in all of you. “No more cryin’. Told ya I’m sorry, didn’t I?”
And Sukuna meant it.
Because, immediately, he’s shoving two fingers into your mouth. All the blood in his body just rushing to his cock at how filthily you were gagging at the intrusion. 
At the same time, reeling his hips back to let himself fuck your tight pussy to the hilt. Rolling his hips forward, all the way until his fat head just kissed your cervix - nothing at all like the almost-gentle little grinds from before. 
Eyes widening when he presses right at the back of your throat - exactly where he knew would draw out the prettiest noises from you. Like he was pushing all the way into your lungs. To the back of your throat. Too much. 
You’re just as shocked as Sukuna when you cum from just this. Pathetic little moans muffled and slurring together. Jolts of white-hot pleasure going all the way from his fingers in your mouth to your sloppy cunt, fluttering so obscenely around his cock.
God, you were perfect. 
“Oh?” he’s chuckling over your delirious little blubbers, “Well, whaddaya know. M’gonna have to get you to give me more of those tears, brat.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Show you!
When the bouquets and the expensive chocolates don’t work, what else is Gojo to do other than let you tie him up with his blindfold and ride him to insanity? Both a punishment to himself and an apology, of course.
“Sweetheart- fuck!” Gojo groans, hips bucking up to shove his swollen cock deeper into your sloppy pussy. “You’re killin’ me, shit shit shit-”
Nevermind that he doesn’t think he’s ever been harder at the sinful sight of you bouncing on his aching cock above him. 
“Sh-shut up, ngh- Toru.” you gasp, hands trembling on his sculpted chest as you claw for some sense of stability. Cunt so wet and dripping all the way down his thick cock as you fuck yourself on him like some toy. “T-talkin’ too fuckin’ much.”
Oh. how he wanted to ruin you like he could. 
And he’s letting out such a guttural whine, feet planting on the plush mattress to rock you harder - deeper - down his dick.“But, my girl~” Tugging on the blindfold, acting like it did anything to restrain him. “You’re being so hah- mean.”
“And why’s that?” you scoff, undeterred by those long lashes batting innocently up at you. “You’re still- fuck- still not forgiven f-for crashing my hngh- girls night out, Toru.” 
“Still?”
“Still.”
Oh. Well, Gojo might as well just speed up this apology process before he loses his patience - and his sanity. Steadily dwindling away each time you slam your sloppy pussy down on him, with each trail of slick and precum smearing along his pelvis. 
And it’s so easy, too. 
RIP! 
Feeling like he’ll fucking explode, half-lucid mind barely even registering the way he easily tears through that flimsy blindfold, the fabric absolutely nothing against the way Gojo is running on pure need and the thought of you you you-
You can only squeal as his fingers immediately find your waist, gripping so hard you wondered whether it would bruise. “Toru- didn’t you say m- ngh- t-takin’ control?” 
“Change of plans.” Is all Gojo grunts out. Lifting your hips so effortlessly up, up, up - only to ram you down on his rock-hard cock with no warning. Filling you up completely - no more of those teasing little grinds and shallow thrusts you were torturing him with. No, Gojo Satoru was well and fully intent on fucking his apology into you. And he says so, of course. “F-fuck m’sorry. Gonna fuck it into this pretty ngh- cunt. M’sorry.”
“Oh- You’re so deep, Toru- hngh.” you whine, fully letting your boyfriend rock his hips up into yours like his favorite sextoy. “C-can feel you deep inside here-”
And oh Gojo thinks he could cum right then and there as you trail down a hand to press on your stomach, right where his weeping tip was massaging all your sweet spots. Stretching you out so sinfully. 
“You little minx.” he huffs out a disbelieving laugh, eyes narrowing at your obscenely fucked-out state. “Now m’not sorry.” 
“W-wha-” He shuts you up with a quick circle on your pulsing clit, toying with the sensitive nub as he runs his mouth instead. 
“M’not sorry I crashed that hah- lil’ hangout.” Hips so harsh against yours, forcing you to feel every dip and curve of Gojo’s muscled body. “Not sorry I ngh- fuck introduced myself to that fuckin’ loser of a waiter that was ah- eyeing you up. Not sorry that I get to fuck you like this afterward.”
And it’s true - Gojo didn’t sound the least bit remorseful about anything he did. Confidence only growing more and more with each pathetic little moan that leaves your swollen lips in agreement. 
You’re shaking on top of him, the stimulation too much. “Shit- you’re such a smug- bastard, Toru.”
“Don’ act like y-you don’t like this, sweetheart.” he pulls your head down to catch your lips with his. Barely - just a mess of teeth and saliva and words he’s hissing out, “Jus like you’re -fuck fuck fuck s’too good- acting to be mad with me.” Each word punctuated with a harsh, sloppy jab of his hips that have the breath leaving your lungs. “Mad with how ngh- you’ve got the s-strongest groveling at your fuck- feet.” Movements getting faster. Deeper. “M’forgiven r-right?”
Your voice strained as you whisper against his lips, “Kiss me properly, Toru.”
And he is - kissing you like he’s so sorry as the both of you reach your highs. Stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Your gummy walls milking the fucking soul out of Gojo as he cums in thick, hot spurts. Painting your walls a lewd little white that trickles down you shaking thighs. Over and over and-
So, so sloppy. Arms looping around your waist to hold your hips still. Muffling his deep moans into your mouth as his hips slow down only ever-so-slightly, pumping you full of his seed. And it’s almost…sweet.
If only it hadn’t been for the words that leave him as soon as he parts, of course. 
“Hey, now that we had apology sex, can we have regular sex, too?”
“...”
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A/N. PSA don’t work out relationship stuff like this hehe.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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shisurus · 2 days
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okay i don't have anything smart to add i just genuinely love that these seemingly trivial jokes are actually an important part of his character. we see it throughout the entire manga, how he pushes aside his own frustration and discomfort to accommodate everyone else's and avoid needless confrontation- another example off the top of my head would be the barometz chapter in which he slowly gets frustrated with izutsumi but still tries his best to talk some sense into her calmly and soundly.
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and in contrast, there are very few times he expresses his anger and hurt towards others, and it usually takes a lot for him to finally lose his patience and control.
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i mean, even with kabru he tried to be polite despite the circumstances until the guy said the one thing that triggers an immense sense of shame, hurt and rage in laios. and you know, the manga does say it quite clearly early on. when we are introduced to namari and then to shuro, laios acts all friendly and shows his respect and trust in them despite how things ended between them, and everyone else gets frustrated with him for acting so strange- why are you the one who tries so hard to pacify the rest when you should be the angriest?
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and they don't understand him. they don't know him well enough to be able to understand, but we as readers get to see during the manga that they aren't wrong to question him- he does, in fact, feel all those ugly emotions. and it's when the winged lion finally confronts him that we see to what extent these feelings he buried so deep go, and suddenly all those funny little moments where he sometimes pretends to be mr nice guy speak volumes about his character. honestly, ryoko kui is a master at using jokes in order to define important character traits and this one doesn't fail to amaze me.
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and laios's hatred and rage and deep scars he can't get over aren't shown explicitly during most of these moments i mentioned before, but now you realize there are 26 years of emotional baggage to all of them and they sting. he is angry but he can't say shit, what difference would it make? it won't make his friends choose him instead of themselves when he needed them most, and it won't help his party get any farther. of course, this logic doesn't apply to them- they are absolutely allowed to get angry and it's fine to get mad at him, he can take that.
so after finishing the series it's so clear that he tries his best to avoid clashing with others not just due to the current circumstances and him needing to be a reliable leader but also because he knows that people don't even like him when he tries to show his good sides and hide all the rest, so who the hell would tolerate his rage and despair? who would stay after realizing that he is so deeply flawed he doesn't even like his own being?
but he does get mad. he can't help it, and sometimes it gets out of control and now everyone knows. and it's funny, isn't it? that most of those moments ended up bringing him closer to others. shuro admitting he is envy of him and actually becoming the friend laios thought he was all along, fighting for his sake and waiting for him to come back- believing in him even after he turned into a monster and searching for him the way he couldn't bring himself to do for falin when he learned of what became of her- or kabru being pushed to just let it all out because he couldn't bluff his way out of this one and get to laios any other way, so now they are even. they are both horribly honest with each other and they both choose to stay. a weird way of getting to know each other, but it is what it is.
it's simply... the more laios let himself just be, the deeper his relationships grew. and there's intimacy in being your ugly, weak and furious self around someone and them not leaving you. feeling safe enough to let it be known you are hurt and angry. and he knows that now, too.
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hinamie · 3 days
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took 3 tries but i think i am finally free of korra plagiarism in yuuji's water tribe design
jjk atla!au with @philosophiums
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elliewithcellie · 2 days
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Protector
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summary: After months working for the BAU, your harbored feelings for your boss seem unrequited until your hunt for the unsub goes awry. (hotch x fem!reader)
wc: 9.8k (oh my god)
cw: slow burn, boss/employee dynamic, age gap pairing, criminal minds level violence, mention of alcoholism, implication of father issues, hurt/comfort, reader gets hurt, fluff, angst, SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral (f receiving), p in v sex, Hotch is a professional at heart and takes work boundaries seriously
a/n: Back in the saddle with a new man to hyper-fixate on. Hotch can GET IT. Also, let me know if anyone wants the SFW version I'm working on
“Looks like we’re doubling up,” Hotch announced, a sigh escaping his lips.
Before you could even process his words, the rest of the team sounded off, choosing their roommates for the duration of the case. All that remained were you and your boss. With the team dispersing, you awkwardly shifted your duffle bag to your other shoulder and looked up at Hotch.
His stern expression didn’t change as he looked back at you. “Come on. We’re 202.”
You followed him to the elevators, still unsure what to think. This was not only your boss but someone you had garnered quite a fondness for since you joined the BAU. Of course, you had managed yourself professionally thus far, but you were sure this was going to test your limits.
You understood the immediate pairings among the rest of the team. You were still fairly new, not quite to the rapport that the team had formed with each other. But it also made you think about how no one chose Hotch. The pressure to be Unit Chief also had to be lonely.
The elevator chimed, and the two of you shuffled in. You kept to yourself, trying to maintain composure. The lift from the first floor to the second felt like an hour, the silence deafening. You couldn’t shake your nerves. The doors opened, and he stepped out. You quickly followed.
Hotch opened the door and allowed you in first. The two double beds, office chair, mini fridge, and small bathroom were all less comforting to you than normal.
“Do you mind if I take the bed by the door?” Hotch asked, his voice softer than usual.
You blinked up at him, stirred from your preoccupation. “Yeah, of course. I like the window side anyway.”
“Thank you. If you’d like, you can have the shower first. I’d like to call Jack before he heads to bed.”
“Sounds good.”
You began to unpack your belongings and sighed in dismay. You had assumed that you would have a room to yourself as usual, so your pajamas were a little more revealing than you’d prefer your boss to see. Still, a t-shirt and shorts were reasonable sleep attire, so you tried not to dwell on it. You collected your things as Hotch dialed a number on his phone.
“Hey, buddy, how was your day?”
You smiled to yourself as you entered the bathroom. His “dad” voice was more upbeat, yet calm and soothing. With Hotch distracted on the phone, you could relax in the shower. The boiling water stung your skin, just the way you needed it. As you relaxed, you realized how silly it was for you to stress over the rooming situation. Hotch was here to do his job, just like you. And other than his intelligence, his kindness, and his fierce compassion for kids, you were sure you were only infatuated with him.
You finished up your shower and towel-dried your hair once you could no longer hear his muffled voice through the door. You were desperate not to waste Hotch’s time. With your hair still wet and your large t-shirt hanging over your shorts, you timidly exited the bathroom back to your bed, on your toes as if you were sneaking around. Hotch sat on his bed, his coat jacket now on the desk chair. He flipped through channels with the remote in one hand and loosened his tie with the other.
“All yours,” you spoke, struggling to get the words out.
Hotch looked up at you and gave a small smile. “Thanks.” He gathered up his things and closed the bathroom door behind him.
Another sigh of relief left your lips. You grabbed the book from your duffle and climbed into bed. You rolled over to turn on the lamp next to you and began to read, but before you knew it, sleep overtook you.
------
“Hotchner.”
You woke up to Hotch answering his phone. The sky was still dark. The only light illuminating the room was the alarm clock. You realized that you hadn’t turned off the lamp before you fell asleep, nor did you place your book carefully on the side table with a hotel pen as the bookmark.
“Alright. Yes. Right. Understood. We’ll be right over.”
You looked up at Hotch expectantly. He looked at you, then averted his eyes as he got out of bed. “Another young girl missing. She’s only 16.” He paced the floor for a moment, a short-lived break from the stoic leader he always has to be.
“I’ll call the others,” you said sitting up. His eyes returned to yours, the strain turning into relief. He only nodded and headed for the closet, suiting up right there.
You called the others and followed suit, leaving the hotel parking lot by 3:46 am.
------
The next 18 hours were long, stressful, and only moderately successful. The team was able to work out an arrangement with the kidnapper before their 24 hours were up. The girl, Heather, was returned to her parents with only a few bruises. But the kidnapper got away, practically goading you all at the ability to remain anonymous. The team was exhausted and out of ideas.
The team drove back to the hotel without a single word exchanged. The kidnapper’s voice rang in your head. He was so confident, arrogant even. There was almost never a moment where he fumbled over his words or cracked. His ruse lasted for hours. But he got sloppy in the end, fessing up to her location just enough for Garcia to triangulate. But something wasn’t adding up to you: his willingness to run instead of killing her when he had the chance.
Hotch spoke up, stirring you from your ruminations. “We need to start from scratch. Reid, give us a rundown on what, where, and why.”
“Well, we know his victims are all young women now ranging from 16 to 23. They come from middle to upper-class families. He sends messages to the families always demanding ransom within 24 hours. Three women have been killed, and now two have survived. The strange part is whether or not he stays truthful to his word. The parents have always given him what he wants, but then it’s up to his discretion whether he follows through.”
 “Based on these girls,” Prentiss interjected, “this guy’s intelligent. He prides himself on the ability to get away with this.”
“That’s good,” Hotch said, eyes still on the road. “But why work with us sometimes and not others?
The SUV hummed as its passengers sat in silence.   
You decided to speak up. “Prentiss said he prides himself on the ability to get away with this, right?” Everyone sat still, expectant for you to continue. “We’re looking at this the wrong way. This isn’t a sadist who gets off on killing. This isn’t a psychopath with a compulsion. This is a narcissistic sociopath who has been evading capture for weeks now. This is a game to him. It’s a game he knows he can win.”
“Which is why when he’s pressured, he releases the girl.” Hotch nodded along.
“He can take a loss where he can because, to him, the ultimate win is to not get caught,” Reid agreed.
“Great work,” Hotch said, parking the car. “You guys head in and get some good sleep. I’ll fill in the other van. Be ready for a big day of planning.”
You walked up with Reid and Prentiss, a small smile refusing to leave your lips. You cracked it, you thought to yourself.
Your two teammates teased each other up to the rooms, you following close behind. You weren’t the type to inject yourself into other people’s conversations, which ended up making it hard to connect with them. It was as if you had been adopted into a family that has known each other their whole lives. You were respected, sure, so there was no need to complain. You just wished that you could make jokes with them and have the levity they had during intense cases like this.
Still, even hearing your teammates laugh was enough for you tonight. You longed for a moment longer, but they said their goodnights and headed off.
You entered your room, much more relaxed than the night before. You had yourself all worked up, and for what? You gathered your things and headed to the shower, sure that Hotch wasn’t far behind and would call his son again.
As you exited the bathroom, Hotch entered the room. You jumped despite yourself.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.
“It’s ok,” was all you said in response. You returned your things to your bag and slid into bed. You turned on the lamp and began reading while Hotch took his turn in the shower.
You were still reading when he returned, the book more interesting now than it was the night before. You glanced up only for a moment. Hotch wore striped pajama pants tonight, contrasted to the boxers you accidentally noticed earlier that morning. You looked back at your book but couldn’t read it. Your mind wandered to the message Hotch could be sending. Maybe your shorts were inappropriate. Maybe you weren’t meant to see his boxer shorts at all. Maybe he was just cold.
“Good work today,” Hotch said, interrupting your thoughts.
You smiled up at him. “It was a team effort.”
“We may have never come to the conclusion you did. Take the compliment.” Hotch’s lips raised to a subtle smirk, something you’ve only seen a handful of times and certainly never directed toward you.
“Yes, sir,” you said. “Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your eyes drifted back to your book.
“What’s your book about?”
Was Hotch trying to make conversation with you? True, it wasn’t as late as yesterday’s arrival, but in all of your months of working for the BAU, any discussion with the team had been strictly professional. Still, you blushed at the question.
“It’s a romance,” you confessed.
“I have to say,” Hotch began, “I’ve never read a romance novel. What about it appeals to you?”
You thought for a moment. “I guess it’s the suspension of disbelief. The relief to enter a reality where people love in big, romantic ways. Don’t you ever want to get swept off your feet?”
You cringed at the question, debating on whether it was appropriate to ask your superior about romance.
“I think I’d rather do the sweeping,” Hotch said thoughtfully.
You smiled at his words.
“You don’t think people love in romantic ways in this reality?” Hotch asked, looking up at the ceiling. His breaths were calm, and his face seemed to soften from serious to curious.
“I don’t know,” you said sincerely. “My sister is about to marry a real stand-up guy. He’s caring and has a good family who loves her, too. It’s one of those one-and-done fairy tale deals. Like truly made for each other. But I wouldn’t say that’s the norm. It’s not my norm, at least. So, yeah, I guess you could say I’m skeptical.”
You crossed your legs and fiddled with your thumbs. You tried not to reflect on your history, tried not to give any clue to your boss of your true beliefs. It didn’t ultimately matter to the conversation, anyway. The silence stewed as it stirred up new thoughts and old patterns, feeling yourself shut down the conversation. You didn’t mean to. You hated being seen as the one that was boring outside of work. The one that wasn’t friendly enough to get to know.
“I’m sure you don’t know,” Hotch began again, shaking you from your anxious thoughts, “but bringing up your sister reminded me that I met your dad a few years ago.”
You shot up. “You know about him?” You covered your face with your hands.
“He was nationally awarded for his work in counterterrorism. Of course, I know about him.” He laughed softly, a sound you weren’t used to but would never complain to hear it again. “I met him on a job in Bakersfield. He knew the town like the back of his hand. Is he why you joined?”
“In a roundabout way,” you sighed.
“He brought up his girls every chance he could.” Hotch smiled and turned to face you. “One was a soccer star in South Carolina on track to be a doctor. One was a track star a semester away from graduating with honors and applying to Physician Assistant programs, I believe.”
“My sisters are overachievers,” you said.
“Then it’s you he talked about the most. The musician, the future psychologist, the one who found fascination with the minute details of life.”
“My dad said all that?”
“He did. He had offered us beers when it was all over, and he shared photos of you all. You’re certainly much more grown now.” He chuckled.
Your cheeks flushed red at the comment.
“I showed him Jack playing tee-ball, and we both shared some stories before it was time to go. He had some great advice to give.”
“I’m sure he did,” you mumbled. “Sir, I don’t want you to think I got in because of him. He didn’t know until I made it to Quantico. I mean, yes, he always pushed the army and West Point like him, but I did this all on my own, Mr. Hotchner, I swear.”
“Hotch is fine,” he gently corrected. “I’m not worried about where you came from. I knew the entire time. But your qualifications are what got you on the team, not your father. Keep up the good work, and I’ll continue to remember that.”
“Yes, sir.” You thought to yourself for a moment. The candor of the conversation may have added to your bravery in this moment. “Hotch?”
He raised his eyebrows to imply he was listening.
“Umm, Is there anything that I can do to, like… never mind. I’m about to sound pathetic.” You huffed back down into your pillow. You couldn’t believe you were about to ask Hotch how to make friends.
“They’ll warm up to you, just like you’ll warm up to them. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and I’m sure they’ll see you for who you are.”
You sighed again. Of course, he knew what you were stressing about. He’s the chief profiler after all.
“I’ll let you read now,” Hotch said, getting up from bed. “I’m going to call Jack.”
You gave a small smile and nodded, and he left the room.
------
You woke up the next morning to Hotch returning to the room, two disposable coffee cups and a case file in his hands.
You jerked up from bed. “Am I late?” you asked, scared you slept through the alarm.
“No, no,” he said, walking over to you. “I’m early. Coffee?”
He held out one of the cups to you. You gently accepted.
“Thank you.” You looked over at the clock. 5:54. You rubbed your eyes. “Are you always up this early?”
“On the job, yes,” he said with no inflection. “Much to think about, and much to be done.” He sat back on his bed and reviewed the file you knew he had reviewed countless times. If he was anything like you, he was searching for some hidden puzzle piece, something that the team must have missed to solve the case once and for all. But it was never that easy. Still, maybe some fresh eyes could help.
You slid out of your bed and rested on top of his. “Can I help?”
“Be my guest.” He shifted the file your way for a better vantage point. You crossed your legs and sipped your coffee before getting to work.
You found yourself lost in thought, jotting down those thoughts in the margins. It helped to visualize your connections, even drawing physical lines to connect them. You noticed that the most recent girl didn’t fit the age range of the others, 19-23. You dug deeper, making a note to ask Garcia to run the connection between all of these girls. College? you wrote. There was a college campus within ten minutes of the hotel. One more thing struck you. All of the victims had their hair up in a high ponytail. You weren’t sure how that was associated yet, but you wrote beside each of the photos anyway.
As the early sun began to rise, you grew brutally aware of Hotch’s presence. His body leaned closer to yours, and you felt his eyes sear into your skin. You grew distracted, your mind wandering to the fact that you were wearing only a loose shirt and small shorts in Hotch’s bed. Was he noticing the same thing? Was this a breach of professionalism? Were you making him uncomfortable? Against all your will, you felt your body temperature rise in the form of a blush.
The alarm clock rang out, pulling both Hotch and your attention. You stretched over to turn it off.
“I’ll let you get ready,” Hotch said, jumping out of bed. He headed to the door, refusing to meet your gaze. “Meet me downstairs?”
“Yes, sir,” you said, slightly surprised by the questioning tone of your superior. He nodded and left the room before another word could be spoken.
-------
In the conference room of the local police station sat the team, all watching Hotch interact with the captain of the squad through the glass. You stayed facing the table with your head low. You couldn’t help the bounce of your leg. While the others inferred the conversation outside, your mind had fixated on the morning’s events. The heat of your boss’s breath had tattooed your skin, a branding to the back of your neck. The intimacy, the closeness, and then the flustered nature Hotch left in replayed in your mind. You couldn’t look at him until you could properly collect yourself.
“What’s on your mind, kiddo?” Morgan asked. Your head shot up. All eyes were on you now. You failed to hide the rouging in your cheeks.
“Nothing.” You shrugged, though you knew the contradiction in your body language.
JJ chuckled. “Nothing? You’re so tense, so distracted.”
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?” Morgan asked again, a smile growing on his face. “Hotch keeping you up all night?”
You flinched at his name. You couldn’t help it, but you outed yourself all the same.
“No, I slept fine. I swear.”
“You flinched!” Prentiss laughed and pointed. “It is about Hotch, isn’t it?”
“Leave the poor girl alone,” Rossi said, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.
“Hon, you better tell us what happened in the next three seconds.” Derek swatted at Spencer’s chest. “Reid, help us out, here.”
“Based on the months we’ve known her, she tends to—”
 “Don’t you start profiling me, Reid.” You glared at Spencer across the table.
His arms shot up in the air as if to surrender, but a smirk remained on his face. “All I’m saying is that I know the physical signs of a crush when I see one.”
Your jaw dropped. The conference room filled with laughter.
“Leave her alone!” Garcia yelled from behind you. “She’s our sensitive little one!”
“I’m not 5,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. Penelope hugged you from behind as if to protect you from the others. The others continued to laugh, causing you to smile despite yourself. Morgan took a photo of you and Garcia, and warmth spread through you. Even with all the teasing, being here with the team felt good.
Just then Hotch rushed through the door. “Alright, let’s be seated and get to work. We have a big day ahead of us.” Garcia took her seat, but Hotch stayed standing, opting to position himself in front of the whiteboard. “After speaking with the captain and going through the case file with Y/N this morning, I determined our best attack on the situation. Though, it is rather unorthodox.”
The rest of the team stayed silent, waiting for the punchline. Hotch continued. “What do we know about our killer better than anything? His victimology. We know that he goes after girls and young women aged 16-23. They are middle to upper-class, and not the type to find themselves in trouble. Now, who do we all know who fits this very description?”
“Y/N,” Reid said.
All eyes returned to you, this time with a seriousness looming in the air.
“If we don’t want any other kidnappings, we need to give him what he wants. Going after the 16-year-old was off for him. He’s devolving. Which means we need to act fast before he kills again. This is the only way we can approach this head-on.”
“Hotch,” Emily began, “with all due respect, let me take this on. Or JJ. JJ has experience.”
“With his victimology going as low as 16 now, it should be someone who looks the part,” Reid replied.
“She’s just a kid, Hotch.” Morgan reached his hand toward your shoulder, but you gently nudged it away.
“But I’m not a kid at all,” you spoke up. “I have two degrees and the same job as the rest of you. I know I’m young and look younger, but I’m qualified. If my appearance can be used to put this guy away, then let me help. Let me do my job.” You looked up at Hotch, a sudden confidence flowing through your veins. “What do you need me to do?”
-------
For the rest of the day, the team helped you prepare for your role as a 22-year-old college student. The team strategized and planned, desperate to ensure your safety. Everyone added their two cents, but you were happy to receive all the insight you were given. You weren’t going to screw this up for them.
You, Hotch, Prentiss, and Morgan returned to the hotel to pick among your belongings to dress the part. Rossi, Reid, and JJ stayed behind with Garcia to set up intel at the station.
“The shorts you wore to bed,” Hotch began, “go put those on while we find a sweatshirt or jacket. In fact, wear the shirt you wore, too. The size could conceal the mic better.”
You nodded and grabbed your things before heading into the bathroom. It was not lost on you that your boss was thoroughly aware of your pajama situation, but due to the pivotal role you were to perform, it was easier to focus on the task at hand.
You returned from the bathroom where Emily greeted you with the mic. You lifted your arms, allowing Emily to snake the mic underneath your shirt, securing it to your sternum with sports tape. While doing so, Hotch and Morgan returned with a single sweatshirt in Morgan’s hand. It was grungy and old, not quite the goal aesthetic.
Still, Morgan handed it to you to try on. The three profilers evaluated your look.
“This isn’t gonna work,” Morgan said. Prentiss pinched her eyebrows together in dismay. Hotch stayed staring.
“Take off the sweatshirt,” Hotch ordered. “I think I have something better.”
You did as he said while he rummaged through his duffle bag. He pulled out a quarter zip of excellent quality, something he only wears on a successful plane ride home.
“Put it on.”
You didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions. It was a large fit, hanging just above the hem of your shorts and the sleeves landing at your fingertips. The three of them looked at you, then to their reference photos, then back at you. Something was missing.
“Call Reid. Maybe he can find any other similarity we’re missing,” Hotch said.
“No, I got it.” You remembered the notes you made earlier that morning. You took the hair tie from your wrist and pulled your hair up into a high ponytail. “Now, what do you think?”
“That’s it,” Morgan said.
“And just in time,” Emily noted, “We gotta get you to the college fast.”
On the ride to the school, Hotch reiterated the goals in place.
“All you need to do is walk across campus using the roads. Keep to yourself, and most importantly, do not—and I mean it—do NOT, get into the vehicle under any circumstances. Stall him, flirt with him, do anything you can to keep him in place. We’ll be right there. Got it?”
“Yes, sir. I got it.”
“We’re counting on you.”
“Good luck.” Prentiss smiled with seriousness behind her eyes.
Morgan grabbed your shoulder, turning you around. “Be smart, kiddo.”
You returned a small smile and left the van to venture on your walk.
------
You had to have walked the streets for at least an hour. The campus was massive, larger than any school you attended. You did as you were told and kept to yourself. The sun had long since set, so there was no warmth to guard you from the biting breeze. A car or two passed periodically, but none slowed down beside you. There was a peace in the solitude. One could chalk it up to the calm before the storm, but you weren’t afraid.
Another car passed, but this time it slowed down. Your heart stopped and landed in your throat.
“Excuse me,” the man called out. The voice was unforgettable. The very same voice that threatened to kill the girl over the phone. The voice that replayed in your mind for hours. You knew it was him.
You turned to face him, trying to commit every detail to memory. He was a conventionally attractive man with lighter hair and a smile that you would have swooned over under any other circumstance. He wore a white polo and jeans and drove a two-door black convertible with the top down.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m looking for a party my buddy’s throwing, but I don’t go here.”
“I’ll say you don’t,” you chuckled as you walked closer. “Your car must cost my tuition!”
The man grinned. “You like? I could take you for a spin. But I’ll have you know; I like to go fast.”
“Mmmm, top-down, wind in my hair,”—you inched closer still, to feign some sort of interest— “but don’t you have a party you’re missing?”
“Well, if you show me where to go, maybe I’ll consider you my plus one.” He winked.
“Now, do I look like the partying type to you?” You laughed and rested your arms on his car door.
Without another word, he grabbed you by the upper arms and pulled you into the driver’s seat. You screamed at the top of your lungs. You tried to fight him from your disadvantaged position, but he was stronger, quicker. He forced you into the passenger seat as he wailed punch after punch into your jaw.
“Nice. Girls. Don’t. Scream!” he yelled. He punctuated his words with one final blow to the head. And as you drifted out of consciousness, you weren’t sure if the roof was closing above you or if the sky was turning black.
------
The sound of fireworks stirred you from your unconsciousness. Lights of reds and blues lit the night sky. You smiled at the serenity of the celebration. You didn’t want to go, but the strong hands beneath you lifted you away. You were much too tired to argue, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. The faint words “stay with me” echoed in your mind, and if staying meant remaining in the comfort of the person who held you, you’d be content to stay there forever.
------
You woke up to blinding white lights. This must be heaven you assumed. You blinked through the searing lights and realized it wasn’t heaven at all. You were in a hospital. The sheets, the gown, the blinking monitors, and a small TV playing all clouded your senses. You reached up to rub your head, but someone was holding your hand.
Hotch moved with you, stirring him out of his strained slumber. He had pulled a chair to your bed, his head resting next to your knee. He lifted his head and looked up at you, an urgency deep within his eyes.
“How are you feeling?” He didn’t let go of your hand.
“I—uhhh—Hotch, what’s goin’ on?” You found your breathing quickening at the sound of your slurred speech, the confusion becoming too much to handle.
“You’re ok. You’re gonna be ok. The doctor said they want to keep you overnight, but the team’s on their way.”
“No, no.” You pulled your hand away. “They can’t see me like this. You can’t see me like this! I’m not put together. I—I feel like I'm gonna be sick. I can’t feel my arms. Are my hands shaking? I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out!”
Hotch all but jumped at your ramblings, his eyebrows raised in shock. Before he could answer you burst into tears.
“Hotch, I’m gonna be sick,” you said through your convulsions.
Hotch jumped up in search of a bucket. He grabbed the trashcan at the corner of the room and brought it to you just in time. Tears streamed down your face as you threw up into the trashcan. Hotch held your hair back and gently rubbed your back.
Your nausea subsided, but your panic remained. Hotch sat on the bed, pulling you into his chest. You gripped him with all your might, desperate for the shakes to go away.
“You're alright. You're safe, ok? I think the medicine is messing with you a little. Take some deep breaths for me. I need you to relax, ok?”
You tried to take breaths at the pace Hotch set. Hotch’s hand combed through your hair as he tried to soothe you. Eventually, you were able to cool off. Hotch gently rested you back on your pillow. “Why don’t we go back to sleep for a little, ok? I think you’ll feel better when you wake up.”
You nodded, your face still wet from the tears. You repositioned yourself and fell asleep within moments.
When you woke up again, your mind was your own. Your head was pounding, and your body ached. You allowed yourself to adjust to your environment before searching for Hotch. There he sat by your bed, talking to a nurse. You cleared your throat effortfully. Hotch stood and approached you.
“How are you?”
“Everything hurts.”
“They’re giving you ibuprofen now. It seems like you were reacting to the morphine poorly.”
“That’s embarrassing.”
“Not at all,” Hotch said seriously. “Do you remember what I told you? That they want to keep you overnight?”
“That does ring a bell,” you said as you rubbed your head. “Is the team here?”
“They are. I told them to wait outside until you were ready.”
“Oh, ok.” You thought for a moment. “Hotch?”
“Yes?”
“Can—Can you tell me what happened? Like, did we win? Is everyone ok?”
Hotch chuckled, but his eyes appeared sad. “Everyone is fine. We got him. Are you sure you want to talk about this now? Why don’t we wait until you—”
“Hotch. Please.”
Hotch sighed and took a moment to think. “Well, we knew we were looking for an expensive convertible thanks to you.” He smiled. “So, we began our search as you spoke. But then, we all heard you scream.”
You flinched at the word, your memory of the gruesome event beginning to reassemble.
“Of course, it was full speed at that point. He had you, and we weren’t going to lose you. We cornered him on a dead-end road just outside of campus. We didn’t let him get far. Prentiss shot out one of his tires, so he started running. Prentiss and Morgan ran for him, and I ran to you.”
He paused. He looked away as his bottom lip trembled. He took a deep breath in as he settled into his natural professionalism again.
“We had EMT on standby, so we were able to get here quickly.”
You nodded, realizing it was Hotch who carried you out. The fireworks, the lights, the “stay with me”, the reality of it all crashed in on you in the form of a shudder.
“It was you?” you asked.
Hotch knit his eyebrows together and tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“You pulled me out. I felt you. I think I heard you.”
“Someone had to make sure you were ok.”
The fact that it was Hotch warmed your heart. Still, a question lingered in your mind. “Is he still alive?”
Hotch shook his head no.
“Mm,” was all you could say in response. There was no room for emotion. No time to process an opinion. You were just glad it was over. “What time is it?”
Hotch checked his watch. “It’s 2:43.”
“In the morning? Sir, with all good intentions, go to bed. Go tell the team to—”
Just behind Hotch, you caught a glimpse of Spencer in the doorway. “Is now a good time?” he asked.
You smiled and nodded. Spencer peeked his head back out and in a loud whisper said, “It’s clear! Go, go, go!”
The rest of the team hustled into the room and crowded around your bed. One by one, greetings and gentle hugs made their rounds, and your smile grew bigger and bigger.
“It’s a party now,” you said, a giggle bubbling out of your throat.
“Oh, she’s got the right idea,” JJ said as she sat close to you on the bed. She carefully moved a strand of hair from your face.
Prentiss laughed. “All we need now is some good music, a dance floor, and some drinks.”
The room filled with a few laughs and overall agreement.
“Too bad you all aren’t even supposed to be here,” Hotch said, slightly scolding the team. “It’s probably time for you all to call it a night.”
“Aw, Hotch, just a few minutes?” Garcia asked.
“We’ll be quiet!” Reid said.
Everyone looked at Hotch expectantly. You looked around at your teammates. They all were begging for a couple more minutes with you. That alone allowed your pain to subside.
Hotch sighed. “Just a couple more minutes.” A small smile formed on his face.
Everyone crowded around the bed, content murmurs and chatter filling the room again.
“Now be honest, guys. How bad do I look?” You shot them all a cheesy smile to sell it.
A few of them chuckled at your antics.
“I think you’ll be back to dating in no time,” Prentiss joked. “Guys love a badass scar.”
“Yeah, ’cause she was dating before,” JJ teased as she played with your hair.
“Shut up!” you giggled, coughing a little.
“I’ll get you water.” Hotch shot up and walked off.
“I’ll go with him,” Rossi said, sighing.
A seriousness enveloped the room. Derek was the first to speak up. “You know, you really scared us today, kiddo. Not to get all big brother on you, but it was tough seeing Hotch carrying you like that. Just limp.”
“And imagine how Hotch must have felt,” Reid said.
You looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
Just then Hotch and Rossi returned with your water.
“Drink,” he said, his arm outstretched. You grabbed the water from him, your fingers overlapping his. The memory of his hands shot through your spine. His frantic begging for you to stay with him, much more panicked than you remembered the phrase.
Imagine how Hotch must have felt.
“It’s getting late,” Rossi said.
The rest of the team grumbled and said their goodbyes. Hotch allowed the rest of the team to go, lingering in the room with you.
“If you need me to stay, I’d be happy to do so.”
“You need sleep, sir.”
“I’ll sleep on the plane,” he said as if it was nothing to him. “If you don’t think you’ll need me, I can let you be. We can be here early to pick you up.”
You thought for a moment. You didn’t want him to go, just in case. “Would you be willing to stay?”
“It’s why I offered.”
You felt your lip begin to tremble, the brave face for the rest of the team beginning to fade. “Hotch?”
“What can I do?”
“Well, I just… Can I use your phone? I think my mom should know I’m alright.”
“Of course.” He handed you his phone. “I’ll wait right outside for you.”
When the phone call was finished, Hotch returned and sat down in the chair.
“If you’re going to stay, I at least want you comfortable,” you said.
“The chair is fine,” Hotch said, taking his coat off for the first time today. “Get some sleep.”
You scooted to the side of your bed. “Here. At least sit up here where there’s some cushion.”
He didn’t respond right away. You knew you could convince him.
“I promise I’ll sleep,” you continued. “I’d be up worrying about your discomfort otherwise.”
Hotch sighed and stood up. “Only because I want you to sleep.”
He sat in the space you made for him at your feet. He stretched his legs alongside yours and rested his back against the footboard of the hospital bed.
You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you curled up on your side. The comfort in knowing that he was there to take care of you was enough to send you off to sleep in minutes.
“Goodnight, Hotch.”
“Goodnight.”
------
You woke up to something you had never seen before. Hotch was asleep at the foot of your bed, resting his head against your shins. A hand was placed just below your knee as if he planned to protect you in his sleep. It was the most peaceful you had ever seen him. He didn’t look cross or serious. He was calm and relaxed. You smiled to yourself. You had to fight the urge to return his touch. You knew the moment he woke up he’d return to his professional senses, and you weren’t quite ready for this moment to be over.
The doctor walked in to check on you, stirring him awake, anyway.
“I’m clearing you. Take these twice a day. Your jaw is going to be sore for a couple weeks, so work up to crunchy and chewy foods. And please, no strenuous activity for at least a full week.”
“Yes, ma’am,” you said, taking the bottle of pills.
“Thank you,” Hotch said. He stood up from your bed as the doctor left. He threw his jacket on and fixed his hair in the window’s reflection.
You sat up and swung your legs off the bed. Hotch spun around and met you at your side.
“How can I help?”
You chuckled. “I think I can stand on my own.”
His eyes shared signs of concern and disbelief. Still, he took a small step back and allowed you to gather your bearings. Standing on your own, you closed the small gap between you. You began to become painstakingly aware of your attire being only a hospital gown and rubber socks.
“You got it?” Hotch asked, his arms out like you were a baby taking your first steps.
“Mmhmm,” you said. “Are my clothes here?”
“Yes, let me grab them for you.” He rushed to the corner of the room where your clothes had been neatly folded, including his sweater. He handed them all to you, his hands brushing against yours. Your heart fluttered in your chest as he stood over you. You looked up at him. His eyes returned your gaze, though you weren’t able to read him. His chest rose and fell as if his breathing was slow and deliberate.
“I’m going to call the team,” Hotch said, his voice low. “Do you—do you need help with anything before I do?”
All you could do was shake your head no on instinct, your eyes not leaving his. He stayed still. His eyes scanned you like he was contemplating something. He backed up carefully and pulled his phone from his coat pocket.
“Wait,” you said.
He froze.
You felt your face redden as you worked up the courage to continue. “Could—could you untie the top for me? My shoulder—”
“You don’t have to explain,” he said softly as he inched forward again. “Turn around.”
You did as you were told. He brushed your hair over your shoulder and began to work on the knot. His calloused fingers feathered your skin. His warm breath betrayed you as chills ran down your spine. He untied the knot, allowing cool air to reach the back of your now-open gown. Hotch turned to leave.
“Be careful,” he said at the door. “If you need me, knock on the glass.”
You nodded.
He closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.
------
The drive from the hospital to the hotel rendered the air stale. Hotch had insisted on helping you out of the hospital and into the car. But he didn’t speak. He drove while you sat in the back seat. Every once in a while, you’d catch him checking on you in the rear-view mirror, only to direct his attention back to the road.
When you returned to the hotel, Hotch stopped you from leaving the car.
“I’ll grab your things. You stay here.”
“I can get my things just fine.”
“Your bag is heavy. Doctor’s orders. No strenuous activity. Stay here.”
You huffed and sat back in your seat as Hotch closed the door for you.
The plane ride was the same: silent. Hotch sat opposite you as if he refused to allow you to leave his sight. But he kept to himself all the same. The others rested or played their card games, but you stayed put, almost waiting for Hotch to make his next move. He didn’t speak the entire flight.
Upon your return, Hotch dismissed the rest of the team.
“Thank you for the hard work this weekend. Rest up, and I will see you all Monday.”
You all headed out to leave, but Hotch stopped you. “Let me take you home,” he said.
You sighed. “Is driving a strenuous task now?”
“It’s late, and I’m not asking,” he said, returning your attitude.
You followed him to his car. He carried both his and your bag and placed them in the backseat before joining you up front.
Again, not a word was spoken between the two of you. You felt your blood boiling beneath your skin. It was as if the trip never happened, as if the distance between you never closed. The babying was the worst of all. You were sure he was seeing you as the rest of the team did now, incapable, fragile, only a child.
Hotch walked you up to your apartment. He waited for you to open your door, placing your bag directly inside.
“Well,” you began, “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”
He stood in your doorway for a moment, something on his mind. “Are you sure you’re ok? Is there anything else you think you may need before I go?”
“Hotch, what is all this?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
You tried to maintain your sanity, but the anger had bubbled into your throat. “All this, this, this coddling! You’re treating me like I’m fragile or, or useless!”
“Do I have to remind you that you were in the hospital this morning?” Hotch asked, aggravation coating his throat.
“I don’t need this from you, too, ok? The rest of them, I can take it, but you were different! I thought you were different.”
Hotch closed the door behind him and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”
“Have you not noticed that all of them treat me like I’m a child? Derek literally calls me kiddo, and the girls act like I’m some innocent girl fresh out of high school. Reid and JJ are five years older than me. That’s it! Rossi, forget it. I’m like a grandchild to him at this point. But you, you never belittled me. So, what is this? Did I fail you? I’d rather you just tell me than refuse to speak to me.”
“I – you didn’t fail me. How could you think that?”
“You couldn’t even look at me after the hospital.”
Hotch’s face turned a light shade of pink, his eyes leaving yours for only a moment. “We were successful because of you. But you got hurt. I just want to make sure you’re ok. That’s all.”
You thought for a moment, still not satisfied with his answer. “Then why didn’t you talk to me? I thought we were—I thought maybe there was something—”
“Please,” Hotch interrupted, “don’t say anything you might regret.” He took a step back.
“Are you saying I’m imagining this? That I imagined this morning?”
“No, no, no. We’re not doing this.”
“The coffee, the book put away neatly,”
“I would do that for anyone.”
“What about when you stormed out yesterday? When we were going over the file on your bed.” Your voice started to shake.
“That’s when I—I realized we had to use you.” He looked down, almost ashamed.
Your heart pounded in your chest, fear that you’ve outed yourself and maybe you were more delusional than you thought.
“This morning…” you said.
“You asked for my help, and I helped you. Just like I’m happy to do for you now if you need. Look, it’s late, and you’ve gone through a lot.”
“Then what did Reid mean?”
Hotch looked back up at you. He looked nervous, something you may have never seen in his eyes before. “What do you mean?”
“He said imagine how you must have felt when you found me. What did he mean by that if it doesn’t mean you care about me?”
“Of course, I care about you!” he exclaimed, moving closer to you. “I almost lost you! And when I found you, I thought you were gone. You were lifeless. So, forgive me for wanting to be careful with you, because I refuse to let that happen again. I refuse to lose you again.”
You looked at him in shock.
He sighed. “I shouldn’t have said any of this. Listen, the only reason you’re feeling anything for me is because it’s me you woke up to. Nothing more. If Reid or Morgan found you, the same thing would happen with them.”
“Do not chalk this up to some damsel in distress situation,” you said a little too boldly. “The whole team knows I have a thing for you.”
Now Hotch was in shock. He shook his head. “It’s not me you want.”
“You don’t know what I want.”
“I know you’re desperate for romance in your life because you either don’t make time for it in real life or were burned so bad in the past, that you gave it up entirely.”
“Hotch, don’t you dare profile me right now.”
“I know you have a rocky relationship with men in general, rooted in your relationship with your father.”
“Stop it, now.”
“You refuse to associate with him in any way. You don’t even allow us to call you by your last name. He views you differently from your sisters for some reason, and you hate him for it.”
“Hotch, I swear to god—”
“You mocked him for giving good advice, and you flinched when I brought up getting beers with him. He’s an alcoholic, isn’t he?”
“So, what, honestly? Literally who cares if he drinks? He gets mean, so what? What gives you the right to tell me what I can and cannot have?”
“But he’s not just mean, is he?”
The air in your lungs got caught in your throat.
“That’s it, isn’t it? That’s how he treats you differently.”
“That’s enough,” you said, your voice cold.
Hotch stepped closer, grabbing your shoulders with both hands. You shuddered in his grasp. “You don’t want me, ok? I can’t fix what you’ve gone through. I can’t even protect you at work. Do you know the guilt I feel for what happened to you? I’m the one who got you hurt. And now I have to live with that. What makes you think that I can be what you need if I can’t even keep you safe here?”
You closed what little space was left between you. You looked up at him, your face only inches from his. “Stop telling me what I want. I’m an adult. I can make my own choices. You’re not going to push me away like this.”
Hotch’s breath hitched in his throat. His chest heaved up and down, and his eyes darkened. “This is wrong. I’m your superior. This isn’t appropriate.”
“If you truly don’t want me, I’ll stop. We’ll go back to how things were. But you have to say you don’t want me.”
His grip on your shoulders strengthened, his touch burning into your skin. His now wild eyes scanned you as if he couldn’t have fathomed this happening. A lump formed in your throat as you waited for him to find the words. Instead, he pulled you flush against him and pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was raw and desperate, rougher than your healing jaw could take, but you couldn’t care less. He wrapped his arms around your back and gripped your hair as if it was instinctual. Your breathing hitched, causing you to moan into his mouth.
He pulled away, slightly out of breath. “I need you to tell me this is ok.”
“This is ok,” you said, breathless.
“Good,” Hotch said, “because I don’t want to stop.”
A smirk formed on your face. You grabbed a hold of his tie and pulled him closer to you. “Then I think you need to take this off.”
You dropped the tie and kissed him as he took his coat off. Your mouth wandered to his jaw. Hotch let out a groan.
“Your room. Now.”
His words sent chills down your spine. You took his hand and led him to your room. You turned around and watched Hotch remove his tie, sliding it through his collar. His eyes stayed on yours, his already dark eyes now almost black with desire. The moment his tie came off, he was back on you, kissing you like his life depended on it. His hands wandered to your ass and lifted you up, his lips never leaving your skin. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to your bed.
Hotch laid you down, now hovering over you. His lips drifted from yours down to your neck.
“Seeing you in this had me thinking horrible things,” Hotch confessed, slightly pulling on the quarter zip you were still wearing.
You blushed. “Really?” you asked, a smug smile growing on your face. “Is that why you were avoiding me?”
“Was it really that obvious?” Hotch asked, his large hands finding their way under your shirt.
You couldn’t even answer as his hands ventured up to your chest. His hands pulled a moan from your mouth.
“Take this off,” Hotch said as he pulled the hem of your shirt.
“You, first.”
Hotch’s eyebrows raised as if surprised by your reply. He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. You practically drooled at the sight of him shirtless. You could only assume he was fit when he rolled up his sleeves or manhandled unsubs, but this was all the confirmation you needed.
“Your turn,” he said.
You did as you were told, revealing yourself to him.
“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed as he kissed your chest.
You fought off a moan. You couldn’t believe this was happening. This was only something you pictured in your wildest dreams, and here he was in the flesh.
“I wanted this for so long,” you found yourself saying out loud.
“Me, too,” he agreed. “You have no idea how much I thought about this.”
Your cheeks flushed red. He began leaving marks past your breasts, down your stomach to the hem of your shorts.
“Can I take these off?” Hotch asked.
You nodded.
“Use your words, honey.”
Your stomach did a flip hearing the phrase. “Yes, sir. Take them off.”
He all but growled in response. He pulled at your shorts, taking them off in a swift motion.
“So much for no strenuous activities,” you joked.
“I can be gentle,” Hotch said as he settled in between your legs. “Let me take care of you.”
Your head fell back onto your pillow. You knew you were in for it.
Hotch spread your legs apart, the stretch enough for you to arch into his touch.
A smirk graced his lips, and without another word, he licked into your core. His mouth against you was like a gift from God, something you had only hoped could feel so good. You couldn’t help but squirm against him, grabbing his hair to pull him closer, if at all possible. He placed a hand on your stomach to keep you still. You could feel him smile against you, turning you on even more.
“Hotch,” you breathed out. You were close faster than you had ever been.
“Say my name,” he said as he placed a finger inside you.
“A-Aaron,” you choked out, the new sensation too much to handle. He filled you with another finger, his hitting the spot your fingers never could.
“Fuck, Aaron, don’t stop. Please.” Your breathing quickened, and as he pumped his fingers in and out, you felt the coil in your stomach snap, expletives and his name leaving your lips. Hotch continued to pump you as you rode your high, a daze overtaking you.
When you caught your breath, you pulled Hotch back up for a kiss, your hands finding their way to his belt.
Hotch’s hands stopped yours. You looked up at him, confused.
“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.
“I want this if you do. Do you?” you asked.
“I really do,” he said. “I need to feel you.”  
You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Then please let me help you.”
He released your hands and kissed your forehead as you unbuckled his belt. The moment felt ironically wholesome until you pulled at his dress pants. You couldn’t help but gawk at his cock springing free. You were suddenly nervous, not quite sure it would fit after all this time practically revirginizing. If your jaw weren’t so sore, you’d have him in your mouth without a second thought.
“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he said as if he could hear your thoughts. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Hotch hovered over you and kissed your lips softly. You returned the kiss and nodded.
Hotch lined himself up with your entrance and carefully pushed in. He and you both groaned at the sensation, the stretch of him filling you something you hadn’t experienced in years.
“Jesus Christ. You’re so, this isn’t your first time, is it?”
“No, no,” you said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just been a while. Just, just go slow, ok?”
Hotch nodded and started to move. He rested his forehead on yours, sighs and pants escaping both of your lips.
“Can I kiss you?” Hotch asked.
You chuckled at his question. “We’re a little past that, aren’t we?”
Hotch smiled as he placed his lips on yours, much more tender than before. He moved a stray hair from your face and cupped your cheek with the utmost gentility. The urgency was gone, replaced by something deeper. Everything had culminated to this moment, and neither of you wanted to waste it.
Still, the need for more overtook you. “Aaron,” you said, your hips bucking up into his.
“What do you need? I need you to tell me.”
“Faster, please,” you said.
His pace quickened, one hand still around you. He used the other to stabilize himself, allowing you to view the tension in his muscles. You bit back a moan as the pressure inside you built.
“Don’t hold back,” Hotch said. “Let me hear you.”
He slammed into you, a smirk growing on his face as your breath caught in your throat.
“Just like that!” you blurted out.
He did just that, slamming into you again and again.
“Fuck. I don’t know how much longer I can last,” Hotch said, his voice almost shaking.
“I’m close, too. Please don’t stop,” you begged.
He pounded into you harder and faster, no longer a rhythm but a motive, a goal to achieve.
“Come for me, honey. I’ve got you. Just come for me.”
You clenched around him as you came, all but screaming his name. His pace didn’t let up as you rode your orgasm, your legs trembling around him.
“Oh, god. I’m gonna, where do I—”
“Chest!”
He pulled out and came on your chest, making the most attractive groans you had ever heard in your life. You watched in awe, absolute shock overtaking you. Never in your wildest dreams did you picture this. And for the love of god, you hoped this wasn’t the last time this happened.
Hotch crawled over you, still catching his breath, and captured your lips in a kiss.
“How are you feeling?” Hotch asked. “Is your head ok?”
“I’m good,” you said smiling at his return to his overprotective self. “I’m really good. I promise.”
Hotch rested his forehead on yours then kissed you, the tenderness returning.
“I like when you do that,” you said, your cheeks reddening.
“Me, too,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“You don’t have to help, if you don’t want to.”
“What, and miss showering with you?” Hotch smiled. “Just lead the way.”
In the shower, the two of you washed up, and you couldn’t knock the smile from your face if you tried, until you thought about showing up to work Monday morning.
“What are you thinking about?” Hotch asked.
“The team’s gonna know,” you said.
Hotch thought for a moment. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, well, I wouldn’t have done it in this order, but would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow evening?”
You blushed, despite the state you were both in. “Are you asking me on a date?”
Hotch smiled. “I’m asking you on a date, yes. I have to be honest, though, I’m out of practice.”
“If tonight was you out of practice, I think tomorrow will go just fine.”
Hotch laughed and kissed you again, something you hoped would never fade in your memory.
************
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rin-may-1103 · 2 days
Text
The Wrong Robin Au (part two?)
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"Alright, kid." Danny sighed as he walked back into the motel. "tell you what, you tell me everything you think you know about me and bats, and I'll be Robin. Deal?"
Tim's eyes widen in surprise, "wait, really?" he asks, dropping the third Oreo he had been trying to balance on Sam's forehead. Sam snored, her nose twitching in agitation for a moment before going back to normal.
Tim leaned back, keeping an eye on her. "do you really mean it? you'll come back and fix him?"
Danny sighed, "I can't promise that I'll be able to fix him, but I can promise to do my best."
tim nodded his head, "That's all I ask." then the kid stood up, holding his hand out for Danny to shake, "We got a deal, Robin."
Danny smirked, unable to keep a straight face at how cute the kid was being. Reaching out, he shook his hand.
"Right, first things first. Who's Batman, and why do you think so?" Danny asked, making his way over to the table. Tim followed behind him, his face brightening up in excitement.
"Bruce Wayne of course," Tim cheered, plopping down onto the chair across from Danny.
of course, another rich fruit loop would be Batman. Why not? What's next? Lex Luther was Superman's archnemesis? Oliver Queen cosplayed Katness Evergreen?
"I thought Dick Grayson, Bruce's ward, was Robin at first. It had made sense, or at least mostly did but I wasn't completely sold on it. I only really thought it was him because Robin was able to do a quadruple backflip, and only Grayson's family was able to do that. but then I saw you! and it makes perfect sense!" Tim smiled excitedly, leaning forward as he continued.
"You were able to do the flip, AND you acted just like Robin did! Dick doesn't act like Robin in public, or ever really. But you do! You did the flip, you make puns! you even bit that one mugger!"
Danny blinked before slowly nodding his head; Well, at least his personality wasn't going to be a problem. "right, makes sense," not. it did not make sense, but who was Danny to crush this kid's hopes. also, how long ago was this? because Danny hadn't done the flip this time... he's definitely bitten a criminal or two over the past two weeks, but the flip? that had to have been back when he first got his powers... he vaguely remembers his parents dragging him around the country on some trip Vlad set up for them.
see, it was totally Vlad's fault.
"and who was the second Robin?" Danny asked, leaning back and crossing his arms.
"Bruce's second kid, Jason Todd," Tim replied, not smiling anymore. "The Joker killed Robin over in Ethiopia. Jason went missing and was declared dead around the same time."
"Right," Danny coughed, glancing away from Tim. "and what else do you know?"
"Well, I know Commissioner Gordon's daughter, Barbara, was batgirl..." Tim trailed off with a wince, obviously not liking the conversation anymore. Danny had to agree, the whole class had been informed about the dangers of Gotham City. Barbara Gordan had been one of the examples they used.
"I know that you're using a fake name!" Tim suddenly added, looking more lively now. Danny blinked before sighing, "Yeah? and why's that?"
"you used your bat training to make a fake identity to throw Bruce off your trail! That way you would have more time to settle in with your new team! and it worked for a while, that is until he caught up to you and your team. it doesn't seem he knows about this identity, so you've been using it ever since Jason's death. because you're mad at him."
"and why am I mad at him?" Danny asked, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. Just what had he gotten himself into?
"because he didn't tell you about Jason's death." Danny glanced back at the kid, watching as he looked away and out the window. "just like he didn't tell Dick..."
had he finally connected the dots? had he finally realized he got the wrong person?
"why would he not tell you two?" Tim asked, turning to look up at Danny. Danny shrugged, turning to look back at the ceiling. "grief makes people do things they never would have before." like becoming a billionaire and spending twenty years scheming on how to murder a single man. or it could make them more obsessed with their work.
Danny knows Greif, he's had to deal with it for years now. It's the only thing he understands about why Batman has changed so much. Greif, especially for someone you love? It changes you, it holds onto your heart and never lets go. It can drive you insane if you let it.
"he was so caught up in his own grief he didn't realize that there were others who needed to grieve with him."
"Oh," Tim replied.
they sat in silence for a moment before Tim spoke up again.
"I know where the Batcave is."
Danny blinked. Right. Batman. Batcave. the bat-themed vigilante had a secret lair and it was a cave. That checked out. At least it wasn't in the basement.
"yeah?" Danny prompted, "And where's that?"
"under the manor," Tim replied, crushing any and all hope Danny had for Bruce Wayne.
It was official. All billionaires were fruitloops. Danny didn't care if they didn't all have secret basements, they were fruitloops.
Next
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cute-sucker · 2 days
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all i can think about is boxer!rafe with his cute clumsy gf??
𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆。 ˚
rafe being a boxer did not help your situation as an unnaturally clumsy person.
you're always on the brink of failing down, head face first into concrete, or something even worse. you feel like an idiot every single day as you try to get through obstacles that face your everyday life.
going up the stairs? yes, you have fallen going up the stairs.
going down the stairs? check that off the list too. that was done a hot minute ago. it's all a blur to you, but when you and rafe first got into a relationship it was alarming the amount of bruises you got.
it was strange to be with someone so coordinated as him, as if every single on his moves was coordinated. you had watched him box and every move deliberate. power and strength oozed off of him, and you wondered what you even offered in the relationship. after all he was the one taking care of you.
he could tell when you were about to fall - his hand stuck out to catch you, he could tell when you were going to trip, hands reaching for your shoulders. you would always give him a cute smile afterwards, and a welcoming kiss.
but there were other times when you felt worse about it, crying to him about how incompetent you were, "can't do it, rafe. i'm so, so clumsy," and you could tell that he was fighting the urge to laugh as you pouted.
"nah. i like it," he would mutter, before gently smudging your lipstick with his finger as he tilted down to give you a peck, "keeps me on my toes."
and yet there were times when being clumsy did not help at all.
you were snuggled to his side, smelling his hoodie in deeply before sighing. the movie was playing in the background as he held you close to his chest, as a soft humming escaped your lips. it was a moment you knew you would always remember, and you raised your arms to stretch.
little to your knowledge the sleeves of your shirt went down to uncover a litter of blue and green bruises. they looked fairly recent but still were blossoming on your skin. unbeknownst to you, rafe's eyes quickly traveled to your arms.
"hey? you good?" he sputtered out, and you gave him a smitten nod, burrowing deeper into his chest. rafe looked even more concerned, readjusting - which forced you to get up as a short whine left your mouth.
he tugged at your sweatshirt, "what the hell was that?"
you furrowed your eyebrows, "what the hell was what? you have to be more specific rafe-" you hated this, and even though you didn't know what he was talking about there was this inkling of fear that stuck into your heart.
rafe let out a grunt, before pulling away down your sleeves again, and then he pointed at the bruises, "these? who hurt you?"
dumbfounded you stared at your arms, and then looked at rafe - his eyes practically bugging out of their sockets, jaw clenched as if a vein was about to burst and you couldn't help but start giggling.
"hey. hey, focus," a hand reached for your jaw as you stared into his steely eyes. suddenly you saw another side of him, the rafe that everyone talked about. the one that could knock out a guy with one punch, the one that came home with bloody knuckles and a chewed mouth guard. and yet it was the same rafe that slept in your bed comfortably and whispered your name gently as if he wanted to etch it on his heart.
that rafe.
you had zoned out again before you noticed his furious expression, and then an unpleasant smile that crossed on his face. it looked as if he was trying to feign being calm, and you felt tears prick your eyes.
"rafe-"
"no crying. c'mon baby, just give me a name."
now you were chuckling through tears, and he gave him an incredulous look.
finally he pecked your lips, his words oddly sweet, "listen. i've always told you i'm gonna protect you right. it's jeff isn't it-" his words came out sharp, and you knew exactly who he was talking about - your boss at the restaurant you worked at who complained about your inability to do anything right.
but that was definitely not it.
"rafe!" you finally sputtered, "rafe it's me."
finally he stopped, his mouth gaping open, "what do you mean it's you sweets?"
you huffed, looking down at your arms, "i'm so darn clumsy that i have bruises everywhere. i always check before i go to bed, yk' to check how many i have."
rafe's concern quickly shifted to a mix of frustration and worry as he examined the bruises on your arms, letting soft clucks. he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair before turning to you with a furrowed brow.
"sweetheart, you have to be more careful," he said, his tone tinged with annoyance but softened by genuine concern, and then he finally tugged you in closer as you started to protest.
"we'll talk about this later. maybe you'll start boxing, huh? you'll be my little champ."
𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆。 ˚
taglist for all my fics; @wearemadeofstardust0
taglist for boxer!rafe: @maybankslover @vogueprincess @spookyscaryspoon
let me know if you'd like to be added!
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definitelysel · 2 days
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PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒
WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?
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featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.
synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.
warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)
a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.
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DILUC 🍷
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PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 
He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.
One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?
That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.
“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.
If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.
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ALHAITHAM 🌱
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PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.
Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?
Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.
“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.
“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.
This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.
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ZHONGLI 🪨
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PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.
"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."
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WRIOTHESLEY 🐺
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PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.
"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.
“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 
He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…
[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.
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NEUVILLETTE 🌊
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PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.
Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.
“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 
“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.
Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.
He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.
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a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??
don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.
©definitelysel
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977 notes · View notes
propertyofwicked · 1 day
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INTERMEDIATE - LN
╭──╯ . . . . . the five times max tried to set his best friends up, and the one time it actually worked. . . . . . ╰──╮
PART TWO FOR ROOKIE (can be read as standalone)
warnings: none really, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption and minor sickness
this was so highly requested hehe! im glad you all loved rookie :) lemme know what you think! ✧ my inbox is open ✧
masterlist the playlist
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max fewtrell had been plotting for weeks. the annual karting gala was fast approaching, and he had the perfect plan to set up his two best friends. max managed to get himself a date and orchestrated the perfect excuse for y/n to accompany lando as his date, knowing that he was invited but y/n, not being a karter, wasn't. since the trio were somewhat inseparable, it made sense.
and it had worked - the three of them headed to the gala together, max’s date meeting them there, the atmosphere buzzing with music, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses. the drinks flowed freely, and the dance floor was packed. lando and y/n however, in their boredom of black-tie events, decided to see who could drink the most. much to max’s dismay, the two of them could never back down from a challenge, and seemingly formed a crowd of people to see them take on this challenge - which resulted in the two of them finding new dance partners for the evening.
this wasn’t max’s plan - he needed them to dance together, not with other people.
but then, y/n had left the dance floor, stumbling over to lando whilst holding her dress up as to not trip over it.
“lando?" she said, her voice shaky, and her eyes widening as she looked up at him.
this is it. they're going to kiss max had thought to himself, watching from only a few metres a way.
but instead, y/n's expression changed to one of distress. "i think im going to be sick."
or not, max thought, quickly springing into action.
lando immediately took charge, his hand sliding around her waist and guiding her towards the nearest bathroom with max following close behind. they managed to get her to a stall just in time. lando held her hair back, his touch gentle and reassuring as she emptied her stomach.
"im so sorry," y/n mumbled, her voice weak and apologetic. "i’ve ruined the night."
lando shook his head, his tone soft and caring. "don't worry about it. it’s ok. you’re ok."
meanwhile, max was on the phone, trying to get hold of y/n’s mum. "hi, it's max. im with y/n - she’s ok, but she’s had a bit too much to drink. could you come pick her up?"
as they waited for her mum to arrive, lando stayed by her side, stroking her hair softly as he poured water into her mouth less than graciously. max watched them, frustrated his plan had failed, but his heart warming by the way lando cared for y/n.
max was determined. the karting gala might not have gone as planned, but he saw another opportunity to set up his two best friends at a house party. he thought a good game of truth or dare would be the perfect catalyst.
the party was in full swing when the group gathered in the living room, max quickly suggested playing truth or dare to which everyone agreed. the game started with light-hearted questions and dares. when it was lando's turn, max seized his moment.
"i dare you to kiss the person next to you," max said with a smirk, confident in his plan since y/n was seated to one side of Lando.
lando, however, had other ideas. his head looked to y/n besides him for a moment and then at niran on his other side, as though he was weighing up his options. then, he turned and pressed a light kiss to niran's forehead, catching everyone off guard. max’s jaw dropped in disbelief, while the rest of the group burst into laughter.
"that doesn't count!" someone shouted, still laughing.
"max didn't specify where," lando retorted, grinning cheekily, holding his hands up in defence.
“lando! how could you not kiss me? im heartbroken," she teased, holding her chest dramatically, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
when the game finally ended, max excused himself to the kitchen, shaking his head at how his plan had backfired yet again. niran, sensing an opportunity for some fun, followed him into the kitchen.
"you know," he said, leaning against the counter, "next time, maybe we should play seven minutes in heaven?"
max looked up, intrigued but sceptical, "you think that'll work?"
"it's worth a shot. at least then lando can't dodge the dare by kissing my forehead," niran shrugged, a playful grin on his face.
in the living room, lando and y/n were chatting and laughing, completely oblivious to max and niran's conversation. and as the night wore on, max’s determination remained undeterred. their bond was undeniable and he would go to any lengths for his efforts to pay off.
lando decided to host a game night at his house - max was convinced that without being the host, he couldn't plan any elaborate setups. the evening kicked off with enthusiasm, everyone excited for a night of fun and games, with lando eventually suggesting they play drunk twister.
"…and every time you lose, you drink," he explained with a mischievous grin.
the game started off well, with everyone mostly sober. lando was winning, especially since his strength helped him keep his body in place. however, as the drinks kept flowing, max saw his opportunity. once they were all sufficiently tipsy, he took over spinning the twister board, calling out positions for lando and y/n.
at one point, max managed to have y/n essentially straddling lando’s waist, her legs balancing precariously on either side of him. this is perfect, max thought with satisfaction. he then told lando to move his leg, and when it was y/n’s turn, her hand slipped. the sudden loss of balance caused lando's leg to jolt out, causing y/n to tumble fully, twisting her ankle and hitting her head on the coffee table.
"who put that table there?" lando groaned in frustration as he rushed to assess the source of blood streaming down her face.
"erm… that would be you?" max snorted, trying to suppress his laughter but quickly becoming serious about y/n’s condition, deciding that hospital was probably the best call of action.
“lando, you should call her mum. i had to do it last time,” he whispered, as y/n slept next to them, the painkillers they had given her had wiped her out completely.
lando groaned as he dialled the number. it was 2am, so he wasn’t surprised when he got her voicemail.
"hi y/m/n, it’s lando - just letting you know y/n is in the hospital, but she’s fine. probably,” he added before hanging up.
“probably?” y/n called out groggily, still waking up, “she’s gonna worry more now you idiot.”
“im so sorry for hurting you," he said hurriedly, grabbing her hand and gently stroking his thumb along her skin.
"it’s ok, lan - i promise. as you said, im fine," y/n insisted with a small smile, "just remember to move the table next time."
“next time?”
“it was fun until i…you know,” she trailed off, using her free hand to gesture to her body laying in the hospital bed.
max watched the exchange with a resigned smile. despite his failed attempts and the chaos that ensued, it was clear how much lando cared for her. maybe, just maybe, things would eventually fall into place naturally.
with an upcoming quadrant project, max found himself with the responsibility of finding accommodation for the team. he found a cosy airbnb and meticulously assigned the rooms, ensuring that everyone had their own space, other than y/n and lando - though neither of them minded. they’d been friends for so long that sharing a bed didn’t seem like a big issue.
when the team arrived at the airbnb, they were greeted by the chilly winter air, before max led them through the house, pointing out their rooms. to his surprise, and annoyance, lando and y/n’s room actually had two single beds, not the anticipated double bed.
nevertheless, max was determined to see his plan through, quietly turned off the heating, hoping the cold would drive lando and y/n to share a bed for warmth. the evening progressed, with everyone started commenting on how cold the house was.
“i am freezing my tits off,” y/n announced as she walked into the room, throwing herself down on the sofa next to lando.
"if it gets too cold tonight, we can always cuddle up together,” lando said, nudging y/n with a grin.
finally, max thought to himself, a plan was finally working.
“as much as i want to have you snoring directly in my face all night, and trust me i do - my dad taught me a bit about plumbing when i was younger. let me see if i can fix the heating,” she announced, to which the group felt elated to hear, fearing they would freeze to death in their sleep.
max’s heart sank as he watched y/n head to the heating system, fiddling with it for a few minutes before triumphantly declaring, "got it! it doesn’t seem like it was broken, just turned off. maybe the airbnb hosts turn it off between guests to save money?"
“guess we won’t get to spoon tonight after all,” she added, looking at lando with fake sadness.
max had never hated her competent parents more than he did at this very moment.
later that night, as the group gathered in the living room, warmed by the now functional heating, lando and y/n were nestled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket together as they usually did.
lando leaned over to y/n, his mouth settling near her ear as he whispered, "watching max sabotage his own plans is funny - we should do this more often.”
y/n giggled, adding, "maybe next time we can teach him how to actually break the heating."
“it's my favourite sport, right after driving,” lando added, laughing softly before sitting up again.
max was beginning to realise that his plans weren’t working because he was trying to make them fall in love with each other. they were already in love, he just needed to make them talk about it.
determined to help them confront their emotions, he devised a master plan. so, when he moved into his new house, he invited them over to help build furniture.
as they assembled pieces in one of the rooms, y/n soon realised she needed a specific sized screwdriver but she couldn’t find it anywhere.
“well it hasn’t just grown legs has it?” lando teased, though helping her lift boxes to see if it had fallen beneath them.
"it might be downstairs. ill go have a look," he said, casually closing the door behind him. he knew it was downstairs - he had intentionally left it downstairs after loosening the screws on the door.
the moment the door shut, the handle fell out, leaving y/n and lando trapped inside - max was convinced that forcing them into close proximity would make them talk about their feelings.
“shit, sorry guys - bare with me whilst i try and fix it!” he called out, smiling to himself thinking about how great his plan was and how it couldn’t possibly go wrong.
however, he had forgotten one crucial detail - y/n was scared of being locked in small confined spaces. they had discovered this fact following a unfortunate attempt at seven minutes in heaven.
the reality of their situation set in, and y/n began to panic - her chest tightening as her breathing became fast and heavy.
"hey, it's okay. we're not stuck forever. we'll get out of here," he said softly, opening a window to let in some fresh air and sitting beside her. his arm wrapped around her instinctively, pulling her into his side as his hand found her hip, drawing patterns into her jeans with his fingers in attempt to ground her.
both of them were angry at max, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. they had somewhat discussed being together before, but lando’s busy career made things complicated. and now, he had gone too far, forgetting y/n’s anxiety in a bid to get his own plan to work.
"deep breaths," Lando murmured, holding her hand and gently stroking her back. "that’s it. max didn’t mean any harm. he just wants to see us happy."
y/n nodded, her breathing slowing as she leaned into lando, his hand coming up to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
“i know. i just hate being trapped, and i know he means well but i wish he’d just chill out," she breathed out, her voice still wobbly as she tried to regulate her emotions.
they both sat quietly for a moment, looking at each other deeply, her anxiety dissipating, unspoken feelings lingering in the air. lando’s head moved closer to hers first, tentatively pressing his lips to hers. he wasn’t surprised when she kissed him back, her hands moving to his shoulders to lift herself up slightly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping her lower lip gently.
"almost got it!" max called out quickly from behind the door, interrupting the two.
lando and y/n quickly pulled apart, managing to compose themselves just as max opened the door and rushed in.
"im so sorry y/n. i really didn't mean t- i don’t even know ho-,” he stuttered, moving down to hug her quickly.
y/n forced a smile, her heart still racing.
"it's okay, max. i’m fine, i promise,” she reassured him, her arms moving to hug him back.
it wasn’t rare for lando, max and y/n to constantly be in each others houses. any free time they had at least two of them were together, and it had been the same for the entire time they had known each other. that week, they had all taken residence at max’s house to finish the final touches to the new quadrant video before posting it.
the early morning sun was shining through the kitchen windows as y/n rummaged through the cabinets, looking for a mug for her morning tea. noticing her struggle, lando walked over to stand behind her, his chest brushing against her back as he stretched to reach the mug from the top shelf.
"here you go, short-arse," he said, handing it to her with a smile, before moving across the counter to flick the kettle on.
"thanks," y/n replied, ignoring his nicknaming, "want some breakfast?"
"depends what you’re making," lando said, his eyes twinkling, “i would love some pancakes right now.”
“tough shit - im making cereal,” she responded bluntly, smiling sarcastically at him, before moving to grab the box of cornflakes from the cupboard.
“from scratch? that’s impress- OW,” he yelped, feeling the box of cereal hit him in the face.
“can we not use my cereal as a weapon please?” max announced as he walked into the room, rubbing the grogginess from his eyes.
“sorry dad,” y/n replied jokingly, sticking her tongue out at lando when max moved to open the fridge. she turned to start making breakfast, but in her movement she ended up knocking a spoon off the counter.
“fuck,” she muttered as she bent down to pick it up, lando watching on before quickly placing his hand on the corner of the counter, preventing her from hitting her head on the way up.
"careful," he murmured softly, as her forehead made contact with his hand.
later in the day, lando found himself sat on the sofa, scrolling through the comments on quadrants new video, where he had taught y/n how to kart.
y/n walked in, sighing deeply as she plopped down on the sofa next to him, her head finding a comfortable spot on his lap. lando didn't miss a beat - instinctively he began to stroke her hair, his fingers moving gently through the strands.
"you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.
y/n closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. "just tired," she whispered.
max walked into the room soon after, though stopping in his tracks as he saw the two of them. he shook his head with a bemused smile.
“you wanna read the comments?” lando asked as max took a seat on the chair opposite them.
the two of them nodded in unison, y/n shuffling around to sit up as lando’s arm rested on the back of the sofa behind her. they sat quietly, reading through the comments as max scrolled through them on his own phone.
they were accustomed to reading feedback from fans, but this time, something caught them off guard. the comments were filled with remarks about how good lando and y/n would be as a couple and how fans couldn't believe they weren't already together.
lando glanced at y/n, both of them slightly amused - they were sort of used to this, but every comment seemed to mention it.
"are you seeing these comments?" lando asked, raising an eyebrow.
“i know! i can't believe how many people want us to be together."
“you know, they're not wrong. we would be great together,” he replied, entirely unfazed.
"absolutely. it makes sense i guess," she nodded in agreement, shrugging casually.
“well that’s established then,” lando stated before moving the conversation, “should we get pizza?”
“up to you,” y/n responded with a smile, before resting back into the sofa, lando’s arm thrown over her shoulders.
max sat still, watching the whole interaction in utter bewilderment.
"what have i just witnessed?” he started, eyes darting between the two quickly, “seventeen years of seeing you two interact, and you just casually decided you're together and then sorted out what you're having for dinner?"
"yeah, pretty much,” y/n laughs, leaning into lando’s side as she shoots a grin at max, who’s jaw just dropped in disbelief.
"are you serious right now?" he continued. lando leaned back, crossing his arms with a confident grin.
"it's not like we’ve not kissed before," lando added, still grinning.
"YOU'VE KISSED?" max shouted, his eyes widening further.
y/n and lando exchanged a knowing look, both bursting into laughter at max's reaction, their casual approach to this new development was seemingly more surprising than the news itself.
“we probably would’ve gone further if you hadn’t fixed that door,” y/n added, still laughing as max smiled to himself.
“you’re plan finally worked mate,” lando laughed out, watching max’s face contort into shock.
“my pla-? when did you work it out?”
“sometime between you turning off the heating and the time you pretended to be sick so we had to go to dinner just the two of us.”
“yeah the table for two and the candles was a big giveaway.”
“i need to lay in a cold dark room please - excuse me,” max said finally, picking his jaw up from the floor before walking out in complete silence.
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yuujispinkhair · 1 day
Note
sukuna who's over heels with y/n, but y/n is stupidly in love with yuuji who is falling in love with megumi?!
Omggg I love this!!!! Thank you for sending me this 💗
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Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female)
Fluff. Hurt & Comfort. Friends to lovers. 2k words. Unrequited love/pining in the beginning. Sukuna and Reader get their happy end (Yuuji gets his happy end with Megumi). Mentions of cigarettes + alcohol. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear
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Sukuna can only shake his head at the irony. He is in love. He is fucking in love for the first time in his life, and of course, it has to be someone he cannot have! Out of everyone at this stupid college, it has to be the girl who likes his brother!
If it were any other guy, Sukuna wouldn't give a fuck and just flirt like hell with the girl he wants and give his best to steal her away from that other guy. But the problem is that Itadori Sukuna might be an asshole, but he isn't the type of asshole that would steal his brother's girl.
So Sukuna swallows down his heartbreak and forces himself to hold back, refusing to stand in the way of his baby brother's happiness. Sukuna might only be three minutes older, but he is still the big bro, still the one who sees it as his responsibility to look after his "little" brother. And Yuuji deserves it. He deserves a girl like you. He deserves your love. Sukuna will stay strong. He can do it.
But what Sukuna didn't take into account is how completely oblivious his brother is to your feelings.
You follow Yuuji around like a lost puppy, giving him hearteyes, practically swooning anytime he smiles his sunshine smile, hanging on his lips when he talks about his movie-directing classes and his new favorite TV show. But Yuuji doesn't seem to notice. And it makes Sukuna so mad! It drives him crazy! He almost spits his drink out when his brother gives you a high five and calls you "bro".
Sukuna feels sick to his stomach when he watches you wring your hands and shyly ask Yuuji if he maybe wants to go to the cinema with you to see the newest Human Earthworm movie. That super trashy horror series that Yuuji is always gushing about, which Sukuna is 99% sure you don't really like but only want to endure for the boy you have a big crush on.
But Sukuna's oblivious idiot of a brother just laughs and nods, happy that someone shares his taste, and totally misses the point,
"Yes, that's perfect! Let's also ask Megumi and Nobara to join us! Let's all go together! It will be so much fun!"
Sukuna thinks he can not only feel his own heart ache but also yours as he sees your face fall even while you force yourself to nod bravely and smile a sad smile at Yuuji.
It takes everything in Sukuna not to say something. But his restraint only lasts until he is alone with his brother. The moment the others have left, he shoves Yuuji into the wall, grabs his collar, and growls at him,
"You are so fucking dumb, brat! I would give anything to be in your shoes, but you don't even see that she wants you!"
And Yuuji blinks at him, all big eyes and completely confused,
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
Sukuna lets go of Yuuji, slumping against the wall next to him, sighing and explaining the situation to him. How Sukuna likes you, and how you like Yuuji, and how everything is such a mess, and how much he hates it, especially when his little brother is too blind to see what he could have!
"Now you know, brat. Go, get her. Just don't rub it in my face, ok? I'll stay away as much as possible."
Sukuna pushes himself off the wall, about to run away and hide in some dark corner or maybe find someone to fuck and distract him from all this shit. But to his utter surprise, Yuuji's hand darts out and grabs Sukuna's sleeve.
"Wait, Kuna! I don't even have those kinds of feelings for her! There is... um... well, there is actually someone else I like."
He stands there, scratching his neck, looking sheepishly at Sukuna and blushing a bit as Sukuna stares at him with question marks in his eyes.
"Who??"
"Um, he has black hair and likes dogs and... ah shit."
And Sukuna can't help it. He bursts out laughing, doubling over because this is just so fucking dumb and messy and getting more complicated every second, and he probably should have known!
"Damn, brat, that really sounds like you! Falling for your best friend!"
In the end, Sukuna plays matchmaker for Yuuji and Megumi. It's easy, considering the way Fushiguro has been looking at Yuuji since the first day he met him. And yeah, Sukuna is not only doing it because he loves his baby brother but also because of selfish reasons. Because it means you will have to let go of your crush on Yuuji. Not that Sukuna thinks you will turn to him, but at least he won't have to watch you date his brother and pretend he doesn't care!
It feels like someone is stabbing Sukuna's heart when he watches your face twist in pain at the next party when you see Yuuji walking into the room with Megumi's hand in his.
But it will be fine! After all, Sukuna is here to catch you and mend your broken heart again. As a friend, at least.
He quickly follows you when you leave the room and run towards the backyard. You sit down on the slightly damp grass, and Sukuna joins you, sitting silently next to you while tears run down your cheeks. Sukuna offers you his half-smoked cigarette, and when your eyes meet, he can't help but think that surely you must see the pain in his eyes, too.
He quickly takes a sip from the bottle he is holding to hide the emotions threatening to swallow him while silently cursing himself for following you out here. He misjudged how fucking hard it is to look at you when you are crying. If only Sukuna could just close the distance between you and claim you as his, just kiss all your pain and his pain away.
But of course, he knows it would be too soon. For once in his life, Sukuna doesn't just want to be a one-night stand or a rebound or a revenge fuck or whatever. For once in his life, he wants more. He wants everything.
And so Sukuna is patient. Just offers you his silent company, his cigarette, his bottle of vodka, and his leather jacket when it gets chilly, and you start to shiver. He offers you his friendship, his protection, and the kind of comfort he can give without fucking you. He drives you home, makes sure you have something to eat and get some sleep.
He bangs on your door three days later when you still haven't come back to campus, calling you a brat and an idiot because it's the only way he knows how to show his worry. But he hopes he's making it better by shoving a vanilla latte and a bag with muffins from your favorite coffee shop into your hands.
Your eyes look puffy from crying, and you seem confused about what he is doing here, but you take the food and coffee from him. And Sukuna smirks at you and refuses to leave when you tell him you look like hell and don't want him to see you like that.
"I don't care, princess. Eat those damn muffins and drink your latte before it gets cold. I didn't stand in line for half an hour for you to just ignore my treats. And by the way, you always look pretty to me."
He stays until you had breakfast and took a shower, coming back to the living area with a soft,
"Thank you, Sukuna. It was nice of you to bring me muffins and coffee."
Sukuna finally leaves, lifting one tattooed hand to casually wave at you as if his heart isn't about to burst because he wants to pull you against his chest and hold you and tell you he can make you happy again.
He skips some of his classes and instead goes to the gym, working out like a madman and beating up a punching bag until he is too exhausted to think about how sad you looked and how fucking much he wants to kiss it better.
He comes back the next day to pick you up and take you to the coffee shop with him, making sure you leave the house and join the living again! It cannot be that you are crying your eyes out in your room all day!
"Stop complaining and get your bratty ass off the couch! It will be good for you to get some fresh air and shit. I am warning you if you don't put on shoes in the next 30 seconds, I will make you walk to the coffee shop in socks!"
Oh yes, Sukuna is good at this. Acting grumpy and playing the asshole while taking care of you and making sure you are ok. And somehow, you are the only one, apart from his brother, who can see right through him because you roll your eyes and laugh softly and tell him that he is the nicest asshole you have ever met.
The two of you fall into a routine where Sukuna picks you up every morning and has breakfast with you before he walks you to your first class. You constantly grow closer, and Sukuna feels his mask slipping more often around you. His typical arrogant smirk softens into a genuine smile. His snide comments turn into compliments. He isn't sure if he is doing it by accident or intentionally. Maybe he is only reacting to the way you act around him.
Because your gaze doesn't follow his brother anymore. Your face doesn't fall when you see Yuuji with Megumi. Your smile doesn't falter when you spot pink hair and realize it's the bad boy twin with the tattoos and not the good boy twin with the sunshine smile. Sukuna even feels like your smile is growing brighter when you look at him.
Could it be?
And he notices more things. Notices how you always sit so close to him now when he is at your dorm and you play video games against each other. How you always laugh at his jokes, no matter how sarcastic they are. Or how you look at him sometimes when you think he doesn't realize it. How your eyes get that dreamy little sparkle when Sukuna is sleepy, and his voice gets low and a bit raspy. How you get goosebumps on your arms when Sukuna puts his hands on your hips to steer you through a crowded room.
A few weeks later, Sukuna finds himself back at the same spot where all those weeks ago, it all began. Sitting next to you in the grass in the small backyard of your friend's dorm, where you cried when Yuuji broke your heart.
But tonight, you aren't crying. Tonight, you are smiling and throwing your head back, laughing at some dry joke Sukuna makes, looking so carefree and happy. Your shoulder is brushing against Sukuna's biceps, and your hand lands on his thigh, giving it a playful smack and staying just a little too long. And Sukuna can't help but say in that low voice, you seem to like so much,
"You are so beautiful."
For a split second, he feels his chest tense up, scared that he fucked everything up. Scared that he got it wrong and you still want his brother. Or maybe some other guy. Scared that you only see Sukuna as a good friend. Or that you only see him the way the whole campus sees him: as that sexy, asshole guy who is only good for casual sex and nothing more.
But then you turn your head to look at him, and Sukuna sees that soft expression in your eyes, the one he used to see on your face when you looked at his brother. But now it is for him, for Sukuna. And he simply knows without you having to spell it out. He knows that things have truly changed.
So, Sukuna decides to do what he wanted to do for a long time.
"I am sorry that you cried the last time we were in this backyard. But I am not sorry for why it happened. My brother is an idiot for not wanting you like that. But I am glad he is an idiot because otherwise, I wouldn't be able to do this..."
And Sukuna puts a hand under your chin, cupping it with a gentleness he didn't know he possessed while looking deeply into your eyes, checking one last time if he really got it right. You look at him with wide eyes, but you smile and nod softly as your gaze travels down to his lips.
And Sukuna sighs and presses his lips gently against yours, kissing you like he never kissed someone before, slow and gentle, as if he is scared you will break or slip through his fingers. A kiss with his eyes closed and his chest filling with a warmth he didn't know until now. A kiss into which Sukuna pours all the secret longing he felt for you for months, all the feelings he tried to hold back for his brother's sake and then for the sake of not fucking things up.
But finally, he doesn't have to hold back anymore. Because you chose him. You chose Sukuna. You are sitting here with him, with your hand in his hair and your lips moving slowly against his, a happy sigh and a soft murmur of his name falling from your lips.
The two of you only stop kissing when Sukuna's head is already spinning from the lack of oxygen. He pulls away only enough to grin at you and stroke your cheek with his thumb. And you smile back at him and whisper,
"I am glad, too, that Yuuji turned me down. Because otherwise I wouldn't have found out that it's his brother who is my perfect match. I wouldn't have found out that you, Itadori Sukuna, are the one I like the most out of everyone."
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AAAHHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭😭 Thank you so much for sending me this ask. I see Sukuna + unrequited love/pining and I lose my mind!! It's my weakness and makes me so so soft for him (even more than usual).
I hope you liked this little hurt/comfort story!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗
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wyniepooh · 2 days
Text
Closer
you thought that you were already close with patrick and art; turns out, you could get even closer.
Boardingschool!patrick & boardingschool!art x boardingschool!reader.
it’s no secret that the three of you were close.
Everyone at school acknowledges it by joking that you’re practically their manager, because you’re on the bleachers at every practice, seated front row at every match, and whenever the game finishes, the first person they go running to is you.
in fact, you're all so close that you've developed a habit to follow them into the locker room after every practice. if anyone ever questioned your entry into the room, they’d both chime at the same time: “she’s ours.”
neither of them bat an eye when you sit down on the bench between the metal lockers and watch them get changed because it’s you, their little manager, and they didn’t ever hide anything from you.
You’d read them the daily school news, explain the daily school gossip, and update them on any homework they missed in the name of tennis practice. they’d thank you in their typical ways by ruffling your hair and throwing their sweaty shirts on you before sandwiching you in a suffocating hug.
You shriek and laugh and say, ‘stop it!’ but really, you’re too focused on the feel of their bare chests against you— slippery from sweat and hot from the heat— to care about anything else.
There’s always a brief moment after all the amusement when the laughter dissipates and you’re all just staring at each other. Your smile fades, and suddenly you’re painfully aware of their rapid breaths rising against you on either side, and the heat of it all fills the silent air with something else other than just audible breaths.
Today it’s patrick who looks over to art first, who returns his stare with pressed lips. you catch a flicker of something in their eyes, but they looked away before you could decipher it. However, it was clear that a silent agreement had been reached right in front of you. you suspect that for the first time since you transferred to the school, they were hiding something from you.
patrick breaks the silence first, turning slightly away from you to gently close his locker as he murmurs, “you know, there have been a lot of rumours on campus lately.”
You scoffed, stuffing your agenda into your bag before smoothing a hand over your hair. “Really? What kind of rumours?”
Patrick shrugged. He pulled a shirt over his shoulders, nodding his head towards art. “Rumours about us, mostly. Tell her, art.”
art purses his lips multiple rimes before speaking. “It’s just trash talk,” he pauses. patrick glances over to him one more time, flashing him a subtle glare before art finally continues, “there's talk about how the three of us are suspiciously close, or whatever.”
“I guess it’s not so much a rumour as it is true,” you responded. You tilted your head towards them both, eyes squinting with humour as you questioned, “you guys do consider us close, right? I mean, after all I do for you guys, I’m honestly glad that people are speculating and starting to appreciate my efforts.”
“It’s just,” Patrick turns back around, shuffling his feet to sit down across from you on the bench with legs on either side of the wooden plank. His hands are gathered in the middle, fingers attempting to itch closer and closer to your own without you seeing.
“We could be a lot closer, you know.”
You raised an eyebrow at Patrick’s sneaky hands, a slight smile still intact on your face as you asked, “How close can we get, pat? There’s a limit to everything. Even the sky.”
“he’s right.”
You almost jump at the sudden voice you hear in your ear. you cleared your throat as he slid closer towards your back. Art mirrored Patrick’s movements with legs on either side of the bench, but his hands fiddled with the edge of your hoodie as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“We could be a lot closer.”
You observed the way art pressed his lips together, snuggling his face into the side of your neck as Patrick’s thumb rubbed circles on your hand. you hadn’t even registered that patrick was now grinning, building your unsuspecting hand towards his dark curls.
You instinctively wrap your fingers around his wet hair, and you almost gasp when you hear patrick whimper. He pants heavily against your wrist, lips tickling the tender skin as he breathes, “why don’t you come over to our dorm after classes are over?”
You shake your head, dropping your hand from his head. “I don’t think-“
“Please,” art whispers against your neck.
You close your eyes, sucking on the inside of your cheek as you sighed deeply. For a beat, you simply listen to the sound of their synced breathing, taking in the familiar smell of the locker room, and the familiar smell of them. When you open your eyes again, Patrick and art are both eagerly staring at you, pleading with silence.
You suddenly laugh, smiling uncontrollably as you lean back against art and pull patrick closer by the hand that is still wrapped around yours. patrick gladly scooches closer until his nose is practically rubbing against yours, and he returns your laughter with a chuckle of his own.
“Okay,” you mutter while glancing back at art, whose mouth was agape with something adjacent to shock.
“let’s get closer.”
-
a/n: “why don’t u come over to our-“ bags r packed.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 21 hours
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nah cause all i can think abt it rafe being an absolute DICKHEAD to everyone but you. like he 180 changes when ur around and it completely baffles everyone.
OOOOH yes. everyone tellin you “he’s a dickhead, I don’t get why you’re with him.” And youre like “wdym? he’s the sweetest boy ever.” because you nd him and literally like this everyday
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his friends hate it sm. I imagine it would go something like this
🪷 ꪆৎ 🕊️‧₊˚♡︎
Everywhere Rafe went, you followed. His friends never had the balls to say anything and just let it happen.
At parties, he was drinking and leaning in his chair, talking to Barry, who currently smoked a joint. A man sat in front of them, offering them an amount of money for the gold from the cross.
Rafe shook his head at the offer.
“That all?” Rafe asked him, unamused.
“I mean,” the dude scoffed. “How much would you take for it?”
“This bar is at least 5 grand. If you don’t got the money, fuckin’ stop wasting my time.”
“How is that five grand?”
Rafe rolled his eyes, irritated as he shut the case the gold was kept it. “Yo, what the fuck did I just say? Stop wasting my time. Get the fuck out.” He nodded, the man scoffing and shaking his head, standing up and walking away.
Rafe seemed irritated, his eyebrows furrowed and his face rested in an annoyed expression. That was until he glanced up and saw you walking towards him.
The man that had tried to buy the gold pushed past you, making you furrow your eyebrows at his rudeness.
Rafe had seen it, his irritation and anger bubbling once again. You just shrugged it off as you continued your stride to your boyfriend.
And he saw your bubbly demeanor, bouncing around happily as you walked towards him with the sweetest smile. He melted, the corners of his lips twisting up to form a smile. You fell into his lap, clearly drunk as you slurred out his name happily, hiding your face in his shoulder.
“Hey, baby.” He mumbled softly and quietly, hands rubbing circles on your legs.
Barry raised his eyebrows at Rafe, Rafe motioning for him to leave, his old glare back before he turned his attention back to you.
“You tired?” He asked you quietly.
“Yeah. Wanna go home, Rafey.” You whined and complained. And with anyone else, the nickname would have had someone 6 feet under.
“Alright. We’ll go home. Lemme just clean up here, Kay’?” He patted your ass softly, gently getting you off his lap.
“‘Kay.” You mumbled tiredly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and waiting, but before he could even turn around to you, you were fast asleep on the couch.
He sighed, shaking his head and smiling again to himself.
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pseudowho · 2 days
Note
ummmmmmmmmmmm so i really haven’t been able to get that nanami thirst out of my head, the one where he has girls vying for his attention at all times but he only has eyes for you. THAT ONE MADE ME WANNA START KNAWING ON MY PHONE I LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW but can i possibly ask for something like how the reader takes nanami home after a nice, long, and full day of girls falling over themselves to get his attention and absolutely rocks his world to show that he’s yours….. you get my drift 🌚🌚🌚 (sorry if this ask is too long ive just been thinking about your writing and nothing elseeee 😭)
Oh, you mean THIS OLD THING? I get you...it's hot.
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...anyway:
"I'm just sick of it, frankly. It's disrespectful. A total wild abandon of even the most basic manners..." Kento ranted as you followed him through the door, biting your lip, your smile barely-there. You had been on Cloud Nine all day. Any time you had looked up, his eyes were on you. Any time another woman tried to touch him, he shied away as if she were poison. Seeing Kento completely lose his mind at Gojo's flirtations had been the final straw.
Kento may have worshipped you, but you were obsessed with him. You burned for him. You would walk through fire, if he would ignore the lick of the flames just to hold your hand.
Kento was so lost in his rant, that he could barely look at you, grumbling to himself as he stripped off his tie. He tossed it to the floor, stalking away, infuriated...before pausing, heading back and hanging his tie up with a huff. You heard him pace into the bathroom, hearing the taps begin to run as Kento drew a bath.
Knowing he was climbing into the tub to try to scrub away the covetous stares of other women, you waited. And thought. And pondered. And stewed. Each glance, each fingertip-brush of his sleeve, each filthy pointed glare in your direction. You festered with the audacity. While you were gracious, and magnanimous in public, in private, Kento was yours. You heard him slip into the bath. You slipped into something darker.
The bathroom door swung open, slowly, thoughtfully. You leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. Kento lay draped in the clawfoot tub in the bathroom, bespoke, and big enough for him to lie down without needing to bend his legs. Those arms that you loved, thick and corded, flipped over the edges, bubbles tracing down the edges of his biceps. He frowned, his eyes closed, deep in thought.
"I'm sorry." Kento murmured, finally. "I don't try to make other women...act like that."
You hummed, examining your nails.
"I know," you purred, stepping over to him, perching lightly on the edge of the tub, "you're just too...just too much, aren't you?" Kento's eyes flicked open at your tone, seeing your unbridled rage behind some gossamer veneer. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, as that hungry, vengeful gaze trailed down his naked body, a soapy Adonis. The bubbles masked how his cock twitched beneath the surface, too primal to restrain itself just for Kento's uncertainty.
"...darling?" Kento asked, swallowing thickly. He may not be in trouble, but he knew when he was in danger. You pressed one finger to his lips, your other hand beginning to trail circles across his chest, your gaze holding his own. The trails scorched, wildfires left in the wake of your touch. By the time your fingertips started grazing light circles over his nipples, Kento squirmed, his lips parting in a humid gasp beneath your finger.
"How could they know how it is, after all?" You whispered, your fingernails scratching lightly down his chest and belly, now. You leaned over Kento, your clothed breasts dipping into the water, bubbles rushing to invade the valley of your cleavage. Kento trembled, his mind going blank as you silenced him, held him hostage, blood rushing to his cock and making him dumb.
"How could they know that you fall over yourself to sink your tongue inside me?" Your fingers grazed through the honeyed hair on Kento's lower belly, and you clapped a hand over his mouth, capturing the muffled little groan in your palm. The tip of his cock, long, thick and ready, bobbed to the surface, pre-cum mixing with bubbles on his slit.
"How could they know the sounds you make when I ride you? The sounds you make when you cum down my throat? Show me them." You released your hand for just a moment, a husky, ragged moan bursting free. Kento's eyes beseeched you, for release from this blissful punishment. You bit your lip again, a wicked smile in your eyes, and god, how he'd start riots and burn cities for you for just one chance one shot for you only yours for your eyes alone--
"Look at you...such a big man. So strong. The truth is, you could pin me down and do whatever you wanted to me. And you do." You laughed, reaching lower to fondle Kento's heavy, aching balls beneath the surface, feeling him cry out, muffled behind your hand again, twisting and arching out of the water.
"But we both know that behind closed doors...I'm the one that has you pinned down, right? You'd drop everything for me...right?" Kento nodded frantically, a bead of sweat dripping down his chest. He saw stars when your hand gripped his cock, the squeeze tight and possessive. You moaned, soft and wet already, just with the silky-steel weight of him in your palm.
"So just remember, when you're dancing away from all those other girls..." Your hand gripped harder, netting Kento's desperate rumbling moans in your fingers, and beginning to stroke his cock, twisting gently from ball to tip until he bucked into your fist. You kept your hand still, letting him fuck upwards into you. You ignored the splashes as hot bubbled water crept over the edge, splattering onto the floor.
"...remember who you're dancing for, Nanami Kento." Kento was lost, overstimulated by your filth, the myriad erotic images you cast upon his vision, the sheer biting ownership you placed upon him...and, god, it was good. You moved your hand faster now, lubricated by the soap, masturbating Kento until he panted, his eyes glazed and hot beneath your hungry cross-examination.
Reaching for the showerhead, still working on his cock, you set the pressure high, and dipped it beneath the water. So lost was he in being wetly jerked off by you, Kento shouted, fucking upwards again to feel you aim the jet at his balls, forcing them to clench and tighten. Kento couldn't think anymore. Being edged so ferociously had him reeling, and his existence narrowed to just your hands on his cock your hands on his mouth the shower jet pulsing hot water at the base of his length.
"--do anything I'll do anything please-- get in here-- let me love you, please-- shit--cum inside you, please, I-- I can't-- can't take anymore--"
He felt his orgasm building at speed, feeling so pathetic, like a desperate rutting virgin, to be spending himself so easily in your hand. You released the showerhead, and he grasped at your thighs, trying to urge his fingers between your legs. He needed to dip his fingers into your pussy to make this orgasm golden, needed that wet heat around his thick digits--
You grasped his hand, licking his forefinger into your mouth, and Kento cursed aloud, crying out in anguish.
"--fuck...darling I promise I promise, I-- I--"
"...you...you...what?" You urged, fisting around his cock harder to drag him towards the edge. With the hook behind his navel, and the lick of your tongue against his fingers, Kento's eyebrows drew together, his thighs beginning to twitch as his balls tightened up, ready to spend himself in your hand.
You stopped, releasing Kento's twitching cock abruptly. Kento gasped, his chest heaving, rendered stupid and confused.
"...remember who takes care of you, yeah?"
Cooler than a winter morning, you stood, your breasts dripping with pre-cum glossed bubbles. Walking towards the doorframe, you turned, and blew Kento a kiss. He watched you with feverish eyes, gasping and twitching, leaned half forwards, white-knuckled hands gripping the tub.
"--don't--don't leave-- darling-- please-- so close, I--I'm so close..."
With one further bite of your lip, you rubbed his pre-cum between your fingers and reached down, dipping them just inside your entrance with a sweet, high moan.
Throwing his head back, cursing, and spitting, Kento came untouched, thick ropes of seed striping up his abdomen. Kento groaned, bucking against thin air and wishing desperately he was nestled, like your fingers, inside your tight little pussy, taken most of the way to heaven just by imagining it as he came.
You touched yourself to the convulsing, jerking image of him moaning your name, for months to come. Knowing Nanami Kento was yours, and knowing Nanami Kento was yours, were two different beasts entirely.
It was only when you heard Kento's hulking form stand from the bath, the water cascading down as if off a demon's back, that you realised it was your turn to be in danger.
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dr0wnme0ut · 3 days
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𝕴 𝕭𝖊𝖌, 𝕾𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝕸𝖊 Synopsis: After Lee Hee Heeseung got caught in a bit of a legal scandal he is summoned to community service thanks to his father's legal connections. Heeseung finds himself stuck for the next six weeks working at the local church, how lucky for him the pastors sweet daughter is there to keep him company.
Pairings: LeeHeeseung X Female!Virgin!Naive!Reader
Warnings: DARK CONTENT. Dubcon, manipulation, religious themes, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), thigh riding, creampie, cum eating, masturbation (male and female), sexual use of a rosary, sexual scenes in a church, fingering, cursing, dirty talk, corruption kink, oral (male and female), hair pulling, slight spanking, mentions of blood, slight choking, ??noncon?? (adding that trigger because there is a moment of hesitation that could be viewed as noncon)
*Though this isn't as dark as my normal content, I'm still marking it dark because of the manipulation, dark, and religious themes. People are sensitive to those topics so as a precautionary I marked this DARK.*
Word Count: 7.3k
Author Note: Does this look familiar? Yes! Have you read this before? Probably! This was previously posted on my old blog, "HH" (you might remember me as "Honey", "little ducklings") So sorry I left you so abruptly, but I needed a fresh start on a new space. I hope you all find your way to our new home! I had to re-upload this for you guys because it was my most popular fic, hitting over 2k notes! I hope you guys give it the same amount of love the second time around! PSA: This is the last fic from my old account I will be uploading onto this blog, everything else posted after this is all going to be new work!
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Lee Heeseung is well aware of what he is and what he isn't. He’s a liar, a manipulator, an unreliable friend, an average college student, but above everything, what he takes the most pride in, is that Heeseung is an amazing hookup. He knows he’s hot, he knows girls talk about how great he is in bed and how well endowed he is. 
He’s never had to fight for anything in his life, he’s always gotten what he wanted without hesitation, and yes, that includes women. 
He loves women, more notably he loves taken women. The rush of having someone’s girlfriend underneath him compares to nothing else, especially if they're hooking up with the boyfriend nearby. He can’t explain it, he loves the rush he gets knowing they picked him, they’re risking it all for him. 
And Watching that same girl go up to her loser boyfriend and kiss him with the same mouth Heeseung just had his dick in has his chest swelling with pride 
But you. Fuck. You were the ultimate prize, the forbidden fruit, the one. 
Six weeks of forced community service under the watchful eye of the most respected church pastor in town, your father. Heeseung was initially pissed knowing he’d be spending three days a week, including church service on Sundays, in a tiny stuffy room sorting through donations. But then the most wonderful "miracle" happened, you. 
He doesn’t know how it happened, you’re not the type of girl he goes for. You didn’t even spare him a second glance when he walked in on his first day. But fuck, your face, your modest clothing, your big doe eyes, everything he wouldn’t spare a glance at on a normal day had him aching to touch you. The silver cross necklace resting on your collarbones, the Bible you always had nearby with sticky notes and bookmarks sticking out, the white and silver rosary always nearby and that fucking ring…oh my god he almost lost all self control when he heard about it that first week of work.  
“Are you engaged? You’re still in college, why would you want to settle down already?” He asks, tapping the silver band on your left ring finger.
You giggle and swat his hand away, “no silly. It’s a purity ring.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, “what’s that?”
“It’s a promise ring to God basically. Meaning I’ll remain pure until marriage.”
His eyes nearly bulged out of his head.
“So you’ve never…”
“Of course not!” You say, as if you’re offended by the assumption. 
“Have you ever kissed anyone?” His interest now fully peaked. 
“Nope,” you answer, popping the ‘p’ sound.
“So in a way you belong to God?” He questions licking his lips.
“Yeah..until I get married, I guess you could say that.” 
Fuck.
He barely made it outside to the church parking lot into his car with his hand wrapped around his cock jerking off to the mental image of your dainty hand wrapped around him instead, looking up at him with wide curious eyes like you usually do. The image of that little band on your finger had him spilling all over his hand in minutes, even managing to get some of his cum on the windshield.  
He hasn’t stopped thinking about it. He never had any desire for virgins, they were way too whiny and he didn’t like how clingy they were afterwards. 
But you. 
You were completely untouched, completely untainted, so pure, he wanted to devour you. He wanted to own every part of you. 
You were the grand prize..he loved fucking promised women, when you said you "belonged to God" that was it.
He was on a mission.
He had to take you from him.
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“What are you staring at?” You asked, breaking Heeseungs train of thoughts.
“Nothing..sorry angel, just spaced out.” He smiles watching you look up at him.
“Stop calling me that,” you mumbled at the nickname Heeseung bestowed to you since starting his community service at your fathers church. 
“You like it,” he teased, flashing his signature side smirk. You did, but a part of you also didn't know if he meant it in a condescending way.
“Come on, we'll be late for the service.” 
You clutched your bible and rosary to your chest and started to ascend the church steps with Heeseung trailing behind. You weren’t sure what exactly he did to end up here, but he’s been a big help to you with all the church donation organizing. 
And he hardly complained, it even seemed like he was starting to enjoy coming to Sunday services and sitting in the pew with your friends and family. Taking your usual spots on the pew, you open your Bible and wait for your father to start the service. 
Heeseung was so confused at what was happening, he couldn’t understand what your dad was preaching about, didn’t understand the songs, and didn’t know a single prayer. This whole thing was a fucking waste of his time. The only good thing about these Sunday services was being near you. Especially when you got on your knees during the service, when you would take the bread of Christ in your mouth and swallow it down with the sacramental wine, it had him imagining unspeakable things. The way you had your hands clasped together, looking up with big doe eyes as you took the offerings was such a sinful sight. 
After the service you stayed behind with Heeseung to put away any new donations made by the churchgoers. 
“Did you enjoy today's service?” You ask. 
“Yeah, I definitely learned a lot today,” a sheepish grin adorns his face. He doesn’t even remember half of it.
There wasn’t any denying Heeseung was attractive. Everything about him was inviting. Sometimes your hands would brush or he would accidentally press up against you to walk around in the small donation room and it had a flushing sensation on your body. 
You tried not to focus on it, you were also very well aware of the promiscuous reputation he carried on his back. 
“That’s good, I’m going to miss having you around here when you leave us,” you admit shyly.
“Don’t worry angel, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He smirked, leaning forward on the sorting table you both were working at. 
“You’re such a flirt,” You shake your head. He can see the smile you’re biting back and the tips of your ears redden.
“Can’t help It when I’m around a pretty girl,” he shrugs.
You roll your eyes and focus back on sorting through the small donation pile. He’s a player, he’s a player, you repeat to yourself in your head, he doesn’t like you in that way.
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Where am I? 
A floral field surrounds you, kneeling on a blanket, clad in a typical dress you normally wear for Sunday services with your rosary clutched in your hands. What’s going on?
“Hey angel..” that voice, ah that velvet smooth voice that has your heart in your throat.
He looks beautiful, of course he does, sitting on the blanket next to you. His dark messy hair falling in front of his doe eyes, he’s in white slacks and a white button up, with the sleeves rolled up.
He almost looks ethereal, “come closer to me.” 
Without hesitation you move to him. 
“Let me see,” he motions toward the beads in your hands. You hand them over and watch the mischievous smirk creep onto his face. He moves behind you on his knees and rubs his hands on your shoulders, massaging you. You hum feeling his large hands rub down your arms stopping at your wrists.
He wraps the beads around your wrists, binding them together behind your back. You look at him confused, but he just smiles and turns your body around to face him. He sits back on his bottom and pulls into his lap. Making sure to position you where you’re straddling his thigh, causing your dress to lift up slightly.
“H-Heeseung what are you-“
He stroked your cheek, cutting you off, “can you pray for me?”
“What?” 
He rubs his hands on your exposed thighs. “Let me hear you pray. Recite the all father, for me, angel.” The nickname only makes you shudder under his touch. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.
“Our Father, Who art in heaven,” 
You suddenly gasp, feeling him grab your hips and rock your body back and forth on his thigh. 
“Hall-hallowed be Thy N-n-name. Thy Kingdom co-come,” you gasp and try to move your hands from behind your back but he's restrained you tightly with your rosary. The friction from his pants against your drenched panties rubbing against your swollen clit is slowly becoming unbearable.  
“Thy Wi-will be do-done, On-on earth as it is-is in Heaven.”
You cry out as he starts flexing his thigh underneath you, desperate to touch him you fight against the rosary keeping your arms bound behind you. He pulls you down harder on his leg making you rock against him faster. This is how he wanted you, completely at his mercy.
“Keep going angel…” His lips were on your neck sucking the soft skin between his teeth.
“Give us-us this day, o-our daily br-bread,”
He grabs your throat making you look up at him and watches you intently as you rock against his thigh sloppily trying to desperately chase your high. You pant with your eyes wide and glassy, your moves becoming more erratic as you struggle against the rosary. 
“And for-forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who-who trespass ag-against us.”
You were soaking through his slacks. Your voice gets more breathy as you feel that knot in your lower belly ready to snap, closing your eyes trying to desperately keep the same pace against his flexed thigh. 
“Don’t you dare look away….” He growls gripping your chin, your eyes snap open and he stares right into your soul. “Make a mess, angel.” 
Your eyes stared into his dark ones and you moaned out loudly feeling yourself release onto his thigh. Your mouth dropped open but only choked noises were coming out, letting the blinding heat of your orgasm course through your veins. He lets you catch your breath while rubbing your trembling bottom lip, “finish it..”
“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” you pant out staring at him still on your orgasmic high.
“Good fucking girl”
You shoot up from your bed, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat and a sticky feeling between your legs. Pulling the blanket off of you to try and let in cold air to your body you gasp at the sight of your gray sleep pants completely soaked through.
What the fuck..
Why did you just dream about Lee Heeseung..
And did you just cum completely untouched?.. 
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Swallowing thickly you walk through the church parking lot to your designated donation table by your fathers side. Today was the church food drive, lots of people were showing up to drop off their canned goods. It was also the first day seeing Heeseung since your dream. Since that night you’ve felt the dull uncomfortable ache between your legs, and a part of you knew only he could fix it. Which only had you feeling disgusting for having such thoughts. 
“Seungie!” A high pitched squeaky voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you see a girl running toward Heeseung. The girl, only clad in short shorts and a tank top, throws her arms around Heeseung giggling.
He’s smirking at her and obviously checking her out. An uncomfortable churn in your stomach makes you look away. 
Why do you care? You knew he had quite the reputation, lots of the girls around you whispered about his escapades and how they so badly wanted to experience it for themselves.Why were you jealous?
Heeseung sees you from the corner of his eye, how your body tensed up when he hugged Karina and how you immediately looked away.
Fuck, how is he supposed to get you to trust him when these stupid girls are acting this way in front of you. 
“Are you even listening to me, Seungie?” Karina’s shrill voice snaps him back to his reality. 
“Sorry, I’m just super busy right now. Can we talk later?”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “so what? Now that you fucked me you don’t want to talk to me now?”
“Don’t you have a boyfriend to worry about?” He glares.
“We broke up..you said I was special. I thought we could be tog-“
He raises his hand and shakes his head. “I’m gonna stop you right there Karina. You were fun, but that hookup was all we’re ever gonna have. I never told you to break up with him.”
“So that’s it? We’re over?”
He wants to laugh, “Karina we were never a thing.”
“Fuck you, Heeseung.” He watches her stomp away with tears in her eyes. 
He looks back at your table and sees your back is turned to him. 
Ah fuck, were you mad? He watches you grab a box of donated food and walk into the small donation building you two work out of. 
Perfect, he can talk to you alone. 
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“Are you mad at me?” Heeseung asks, walking into the donation room startling you. 
“Why do you ask that?” You mumble avoiding his gaze.
“You’ve won’t even look at me, angel.” He stands next to you as you place the food on the shelf. You look at him briefly and chew your bottom lip nervously.  
“I'm just busy Heeseung, we have a lot of food to sort through.”
“I don't care angel, what's wrong?” He moves closer to you, caging you against the shelf you’re working on. 
“Are you dating that girl that was all over you?” You blurt out before you realize. You feel the embarrassment wash over you. Way to keep it cool. 
He studies your face before breaking out into a smug grin. You weren’t mad at him, you were jealous of Karina. 
“Does that matter?” He asks, leaning toward you testing just to see how jealous you really were. 
“I guess not, what you do with easy girls is your business.” You bite. 
He barks a laugh, oh you were so fucking jealous and it was so fucking hot. He has never heard you talk bad about anyone before. But here you were, calling Karina easy because you liked him. He was already tainting you. 
“I’m not dating her, angel.”
“She was all over you,” you whisper. He watched your annoyed expression turn into a pout and your eyes avoided his nervously. 
Oh you poor sweet thing. If only you knew how much I wanted to fuck you, you wouldn’t be jealous of some slut. 
“Aw, did my angel not like that?”He says with faux sympathy, caressing your cheek. 
“Don’t make fun of me!” His touch only ignited that burning feeling in the pit of your belly.
“I’m not angel, you’re just so fucking cute when you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous!” You try not to melt into his touch but it’s hard. And he looks so inviting. 
He was standing so close to you. His cologne overwhelmed your senses, you could feel the warmth of his body heat. He watches your face and smiles, noticing how your eyes keep dropping to his lips, having a hard time on where to keep your focus. 
Time to test the waters a little further. 
“Am I making you nervous, angel?” 
“No,” you lie. He chuckles, he knows you’re lying, your body gives it away. He can see your pink cheeks, your clenched fists at your side and watches you rub your thighs together. He leans down and places his lips right on your earlobe and he inhales the scent of your floral shampoo. He feels you shudder against him.
“Does anyone else get your little body reacting this way?” His breath fans across your neck. You almost whine when he removes his face and stares down at you with hooded eyes. 
He pushes a piece of hair behind your ear and runs his thumb along your jaw. Stopping at your bottom lip he rubs it softly, of course it’s soft. 
The vivid images of your dream flash across your brain and your eyes widen remembering him doing the same thing after your orgasm. He sees your panicked gaze and he can feel his cock throbbing in his jeans. His gaze darkens, “you’re so fucking pretty, angel.”
His touch made your skin feel warm, it sent little shockwaves throughout your body and was leaving an uncomfortable mess between your thighs. 
“I-um..have to go..” you push past him and quickly walk out of the little room. You needed to breathe, your body was going into overdrive and it felt like it was on fire. This wasn’t supposed to feel good. Your body isn’t supposed to react that way. These feelings..were sinful. 
The donation drive was still busy and you didn’t want to be seen. Spotting the empty church you decide its best to put distance between you and Heeseung and try to ground yourself from these overwhelming feelings. You run in and look around the familiar space, you need to pray. You needed to beg for forgiveness. You needed to do something to stop these feelings. 
Your eyes lock onto the confessional booth and you breathe a sigh of relief. That could work.
Shutting the door to the small confessional you sit on the wooden chair and try to calm your breathing. You never felt this out of control of your body before, with an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen. 
You hear the door to the otherside of the confessional open and close, only able to see the silhouette of the person coming in because of the latticed divider providing anonymity for the people who are using it to confess their sins to your father. 
“Are you really hiding from me, in here?”
Of course it’s him. 
“What do you want, Heeseung?” You try your best to sound stable but your voice comes out shaky. 
“Why are you hiding from me angel?”
His voice was laced with more faux sympathy. He knows what he’s doing. He also knows you’re too naive to pick up on how he’s messing with you. 
“You..you make me feel weird..”
“In a bad way?” He can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. 
“In a way..I’ve never felt before..it scares me..I don’t know what to do..”
Fuck you sounded so good like this. So desperate, so ready to be molded into his little slut. 
“Are you wet..”
He was feeling bold now. 
“W-what..”
He can hear the trembling in your voice. He lowers his voice and presses his lips against the lattice screen so you can hear him clearly. 
“Is your little pussy wet for me, angel?”
“H-Heeseung! We’re in the church! Don’t say things like that..”
He can hear the change in your breathing and whine in your tone. Oh, this was going to be a piece of cake. 
You hear him fiddle with the buckle of his belt. “Put your hand in your panties, angel..”
“I can-can’t do that..” You gasp, was he serious? Was he really going to do such immoral things in the confessional? 
“Yes you can angel, do it for me. It’ll make you feel good, baby girl, I promise.” 
As much as he wanted to degrade and ruin you, he couldn’t risk you running out of this booth and telling your father. He had to play with you a little to get you wanting more of him. 
“Touch yourself..tell me how it feels angel..”
His tone was soft and comforting, maybe..maybe just this once. And he was offering to help, you would be rude to not accept his help, right?
Slipping your shaking fingers into your skirt and into your panties you feel the amount of arousal that has leaked out of you. “Wh-what do you want me to do..”
He groans, throwing his head back on the confessional wall. The question alone was enough to tip him over the edge. You really were an innocent angel, he was going to mold you into the perfect plaything for him. 
“Rub your pussy baby, just keep rubbing it for me.”
He spits in his palm and starts rubbing his weeping cock. 
You slid your fingers between your slicked lips, lightly grazing your clit, making your hips buck in the air and a loud whimper escaping your lips before you could clamp your teeth on your bottom lip. You had never felt the need to masturbate before, this was all new to you. You find your clit again and rub your fingers faster against it, moaning out again, he presses his head against the lattice desperate to see you but can only make out the silhouette of your body and your arm moving. He fucks his fist faster to the sounds of your whimpers. 
“I can hear how wet you are angel, fuck I bet you’re dripping all over the chair. Don’t you dare go inside, I’m the only one going inside of that virgin pussy.” 
His dirty mouth only makes you whine and clench around nothing. You pressed your fingers to your entrance, you didn't slip inside, just teased the hole to get a feel for it, even more of your arousal was leaking out of you. You prop a leg on the chair giving you better access to your clit and your rub harder and faster against the swollen bundle. 
“Cum for me angel, let me hear my angel’s sweet voice when she cums.” His voice is husky and you replay the images of your dream, mixed with hearing the sounds of his groans and the squelching of his hand around his cock send you into overdrive moving your hand faster. Your vision goes spotty and you moan out in ecstasy as your orgasm hits you hard and fast. Your head hits the wall as you whine loudly, your toes curling in your shoes. The sound has Heeseung’s eyes rolling into his head and he chokes out a gasp as his cum shoots out in hot thick spurts and coats his hand and part of the confessional box. 
You sink into your chair and try to breathe, your body still convulsing from little aftershocks of your first ever orgasm. Coming down from your euphoric high you see the little cross above the door and feel the shame. 
What have you done? It’s bad enough to act on such desires..but in a confessional. This had to be unforgivable. 
Stepping out of the confessional box on shaky legs you look around the church and feel the shame overtake the high you were just on. 
You're in a church, in God's house, and you just masturbated in a confessional box. The reality of your actions repeating over and over in your head. 
Heeseung opens the door to his side of the box and immediately engulfs you in his arms, his mouth is in yours before you even have time to react; your first kiss.
It’s soft at first, both of his hands coming to cup your face but he gets hungrier by the second. Moving his soft lips against yours chasing every movement, you almost forget to breathe trying to pull away but his grip is tight on you. Sliding his tongue in between your lips and lightly massages your own causing a small groan to bubble within you. He smirks, feeling how cautious and uncertain your tongue moves against his. He pulls away, giving your bottom lip one last lick and pecking it one last time. 
“We should get back out there, angel.” 
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Sunday approached quicker than you would have liked. You spent days replaying the events of what happened with Heeseung over and over. A part of you felt saddened by the whole thing, he didn’t talk to you about it afterward and he didn’t call or text and it seemed like maybe he just wanted to add you to the long list of girls he had. But another part of you was desperate for more of him, wanting him to do more, and wanting to be enough so that he wouldn’t need those other girls. The conflicting sides of you causing inner turmoil and questioning your place in the world.
You spent your whole life with a moral code, you never let anyone challenge that or try and change who you were. And now, you didn’t know where you stood. Because if Heeseung didn’t want to be with you, and he was just using you, that would mean you changed your core values for someone who didn’t respect you. And what respectable man would want you after that? After you easily give up your innocence to someone with a questionable reputation. 
You shake the thoughts out of your head and wipe the tears on the back of your hand and continue to straighten up the church altar. Services ended an hour ago, everyone had gone home and you were left alone to clean up the altar and the mess of your life. Heeseung didn’t sit with you today like he usually did and it was his last Sunday of his community service sentence, he left right after service. So it’s safe to assume he's just gone and you were passing the time for him while he was here. 
“What are you doing in here?” Heeseung asks, startling you. You turn around and watch him walk down the aisle to the altar he sees you cleaning.
“Just putting some stuff away,” you mumbled wiping the rag across the marble altar table. 
“Where is your father?” He asks looking around making sure no one was in sight. 
“The clergy have a lunch meeting together this afternoon, I told my father I’d stay behind to clean so he can attend.”
He hears the sadness in your voice and bites back a smile. He saw you the entire service staring at him with hopeful eyes trying to get his attention. He wanted you to miss him, to want him, to need him. And judging by the sad tone and watery eyes, his plan had worked. He had you right where he wanted you. 
“Why are you still here? Isn’t today your last Sunday?” you ask, finally meeting his eyes.  
“Is that why you’re sad, angel? Because you think I’d leave without my girl?” He smiled, stopping in front of the altar. You roll your eyes and turn back around to finish what you were doing. 
“I’m not your girl Heeseung,” 
“You and I both know that’s a lie, angel. Careful, God doesn’t like liars.” He taunts coming up behind you and rubbing his hands down your arms. He feels you tense under his touch, the goosebumps evident on your skin. 
Dropping his face down to your shoulder he sighs softly, “you know, you look really angelic right now..standing here in this pretty white dress, all these candles lit, it's almost sinful how beautiful you look.” He whispers in your ear gently nipping at your earlobe. 
You grip the rag in your hand tightly. “What do you want from me, Heeseung?” 
“I want you,” He answers, kissing your shoulder. 
“I don’t..I don’t want to be like other girls..” you softly admit.
He smirks against your shoulder rubbing his hands on your hips and turning you around.
“Angel, you’re nothing like the other girls.”
“Really…?” You look up at him with your wide doe eyes and he smiles. 
Gotcha, angel. You’re mine now. 
“Trust me baby, they don’t compare to you..”
The innocent smile on your face was going straight to his cock. He needed to work fast. Rubbing your cheek tenderly he kisses your lips, letting his tongue work its way into your mouth. He grabs your hand in his larger one and guides it down to the front of his jeans placing it right over his hard on. You gasp and pull away confused, but he chases your mouth with his and continues to kiss you while he “whines” to you. 
“Angel..kiss..it hurts..kiss..it hurts so bad..kiss..please touch me angel..kiss..make it better..please..” The soft whine in his voice makes you want to help. You don’t want him to hurt, you have to help him. 
You were too fucking easy to mold. 
He unbuckles his jeans and lowers them just enough to release himself. Your hands are clumsy as you reach for him, he sees your nervousness and it only fuels the fire. Wrapping your small hand around his heavy length you look at him for guidance. He wraps his hand around yours and guides it up and down in a pumping motion. You watch his eyes close and hear him hiss, “Fuck…just like that angel..”
He lets you work on his length for a few seconds before he tests the waters again. 
“Angel..I need more..I need your mouth. Can you be a good girl and get on your knees for me?”
You stop pumping him and look at him for a few seconds. You nod, and drop to your knees on the wooden floor and you finally fully take the sight of him. He’s long and thick, it's two toned with an angry red tip and precum leaking from the slit. The sight had your mouth watering.
The sight of you finally on your knees in front of him was almost too much. He wasn’t going to last long. 
You look up at him and grab his cock and lick a circle around the mushroom tip, suckling the tip to drink in his precum. 
His knees almost give out instantly. This was definitely better than any prior sexual experience he had ever had. 
“Angel..” He breathes out and makes a makeshift ponytail out of your hair. You keep his eye contact and take his length slowly into your mouth hoping you're doing okay. Your tongue glides around his throbbing length and he moans again. 
“Do you want me to guide you angel..” 
You hum around him and the smug grin returns to his face. “Relax your jaw and let me take over.”
You obey and he hums stroking your cheek. The sweet affection only lasts for a second before he pulls your mouth further down his cock and you choke around him. The vibrations only added to his pleasure. Tears sting your eyes as he starts to fuck your face pushing your head down further and further on his cock. 
“That’s it angel..you’re doing so well for me..”
His praises only fuel you to try and be good for him. You let him continue to pound into your throat, the chocked sounds around his cock pushing him close to his release. 
Your teary eyes and mouth wrapped around him, have him seeing stars, he pulls out quickly. He was only going to cum in one hole today and it wasn’t going to be your mouth. He watches the spit and precum dribble down your chin and mix with your tears. 
Fuck. He was so close to losing all self control. 
“Fuck me angel, you look so good like this, what would God say of he saw you like this,” He teases wiping the mess off your chin.
“Don’t say that..”you frowned.
The pout..that fucking pout did it. It pushed him to the edge. 
“Fuck…I cant hold on anymore I have to fuck you.” His eyes narrowed as he gripped you by your hair to your feet.  
“Hee-Heeseung I can’t..” you shake your head and try to back away. 
“You can and you will, angel.”
You stare at him with a confused expression, was he serious? He doesn’t give you time to take in his words because he's picking you up and leaning you against the marble altar you just cleaned. He places you on the altar, discarding the large Bible, and other items to the floor before sitting you down and slotting himself between your legs. 
He grabbed the front of your dress and yanked it down with your bra exposing your bare tits to him, your nipples instantly harden from the cool air. 
You truly looked sinful. Sitting on the church altar, bible discarded on the floor, lit candles around the both of you, the sun shining in through the stained glass windows painting you in red hues, if there truly was a God Heeseung was going to hell for what he was about to do to God’s favorite angel.
Your doe eyes were wide with anticipation as you stared at him waiting for his next move. Everything around you seemed to have blur out, no longer caring where you were. All you could focus on was Heeseung. 
He takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth and massages the other with his large hand, pinching the bud between his fingers. Your jaw goes slack at the feeling of his tongue, you arch into him at the new sensation. 
While you're distracted he slips his hand under your dress and skillfully tugs down your panties, of course noticing how the entire front of them are completely drenched in your arousal. He bites down harder on your nipple and sucks harshly causing you to arch your back again and lean your head back further and he carefully slots the ruined panties in his back pocket while you’re not looking. A perfect reminder of today. 
Pulling away he kisses your chest before standing up and looking down on you, he pushes you gently on your back, you shiver feeling the cold marble under your back. He pushes your knees up and places your feet flat on the altar displaying your leaking pussy to him. He licked his bottom dip, he wanted a taste of you, but time was a factor and he needed to get his dick in you fast before you got lost in your head and changed your mind. 
He ran his fingers over your slippery pussy gathering some of your moisture and rubbed around your entrance and slowly pushed one of his long fingers inside. He watched your eyes flutter shut and mouth drop open. Fuck, you were impossibly tight.
You felt your walls clenching around him and he shoved another finger in. You moaned out at the intrusion.
You pushed yourself up on your elbows as watched and he continued to scissor his two fingers inside of you to stretch you out.
“Does it feel good angel?” He whispers against your knee and kisses it. 
You nod cautiously, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“Youre so fucking tight I don’t know if my cock will fit in this little pussy angel.” He smirks feeling how you clench around his fingers at his dirty talk. 
His long fingers explored you searching for that special spot. He taps a particular spongy spot and you drop back onto your back moaning loudly, and your hips buck into his hand. 
Found it. 
The amount of moisture leaking out of you was sinful, he dropped his head between your thighs and licked a stripe from his fingers to your clit to just get a taste of you. You jerked at the sensation and clenched harder around his fingers. 
Fuck, he usually couldn’t be bothered about going down on women, but you tasted so sweet he was definitely going to have to spend an hour or two later just devouring your leaking cunt. Kissing the inside of your thigh he fucks his fingers into you faster, making sure to hit that spongy spot.
“Come on angel..cum for me..”
He latches his mouth back onto your chest leaving purple bites in his path. You groan the feeling of that familiar knot in your abdomen is back. Running your fingers through his messy dark hair you arch into his mouth and you release all over his hand crying out. His fingers stayed inside of you working you through your orgasm.
Watching you come down from your high his dark eyes flicker to the large cross above you and he chuckles softly, maybe he should thank the heavens for bringing you to him. 
His smirk is devilish as he pulls his fingers from you and pumps himself a few times and pulls your body closer to his awaiting cock.
He sees the apprehension on your face and smiles. “Don’t worry angel, I’ll make it fit.”
You nervously try to close your legs but he slaps the outside of your thigh making you whine, “your pussy is mine, angel. Don’t you dare hide it from me.”
You whine and let him spread your legs. 
He grabbed his cock and spreads your release along his aching length. He pressed his tip to your folds and rubbed it back and forth, from clit to your entrance making you writhe in overstimulation.
In a moment of slight panic realizing what was about to happen you bring your hands up to his chest to try and stop him and push him away. 
“Wait Heeseung..I don’t think I’m ready.”
“Stop thinking, angel, just let me think for you,” He smirks and you feel his mushroom tip stretching you as he pressed inside of you slowly. He lifted the bottom of your dress to your chest so he wouldn't miss the view.
You hissed and he went deeper, pushing a little at a time. He pushed your body down on the altar flat on your back as he pushed into your walls further. Your nails scraping the marble under you and tears filled your wide eyes as you felt him reach the thin barrier of your virginity. This was it, there wasn't any coming back from this.
You took a shaky breath, your body was trembling underneath him, he moaned loudly as he ripped right past it and you choked a sob when you felt it break.
God, forgive me.
You let out a small pained whimper as he continued stretching you to your limit, the further he pushed in the more painful it was. Finally, he reached the hilt inside your tight virgin hole. His pelvis pressed right against yours. 
He stayed buried inside your heat as he leaned down and placed a tender soft kiss on your lips. Nipping at your bottom lip and slithering past the barrier and exploring your mouth trying to distract you from the discomfort. Your mouth was slack against his, the stretch was too painful to focus on anything else.
Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you grinning at the sight of the small bulge under your belly button where his cock was. 
“You’re taking all of me so well angel,”
He pressed down on the bulge and watched you gasp out. “You feel that? God made you for me.” He whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck applying slight pressure. 
You were shaking, the tears never streaming down your reddened cheeks. He pulled out of you and you breathed a sigh of relief from the pain subsiding but he pushed back in you hard, causing another choked sob from your throat. He kept his thrusts steady at first, easing himself in and out as you whimpered and writhed under him. He took a second to admire the way your body twisted against him. The more his cock filled you, the better it started to feel, the dull pain between your legs starting to fade into bliss. 
He smiles proudly seeing you start to relax and let your body rock against his. 
“That’s it angel, fuck your little virgin pussy on me” He sped up his thrusts, moving his hand between the two of you and pressing his thumb down on your clit. Your back arches off the altar, “oh god!”
“Not God baby…say my name..scream it.”
You wrapped your thighs around him as he rocked into you. “Heeseung!”
Your eyes rolled back as your body was fully succumbing to the pleasure. You could barely feel any pain anymore as he fucked harder and faster into you. Your hands went straight to his shoulders for leverage, “M-more…Hee-Heeseung more..”
He groaned, watching you bounce against him. licking his lips, his pace picked up. “My angel wants more? You want me to fuck you harder baby?”
You nod, scraping your nails down his shoulders.
“Say it angel. Tell me what you want.”
He needed to hear it, he needed to hear the dirty words leave your mouth. He had to hear and see the vision of you he’s been so desperate to have. 
Your wide teary eyes stare up at him, the silver cross necklace bouncing on your chest with every harsh thrust he gives only adds to the sinful sight.
“Fuck me..please fuck me, Heeseung.”
The sight and sound was better than anything he could have ever imagined.
He plunged into you without any restraint, no more holding back. You were like his very own fuckdoll now, your body was at his mercy. His thumb kept rubbing your clit, The noises escaping him were feral. He was lost to his own pleasure.
His thrusts grew even more ferocious as he hammered into you relentlessly. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your head to look down where he was entering you. 
“Do you see that angel? You’re mine now,” he growled.
You clenched your jaw as you looked at the sight of his cock entering you at a fast pace. His entire pelvis was coated with your arousal, you could see a small hint of your blood along his cock.
He noticed it too, it only made him want to fuck your harder.
“Say it, say you’re mine,”
"I-I'm y-yours!"
You hugged him with your legs, clinging to his shoulders as you came again. Your walls squeeze him tight as you released yourself on his cock. "I’m going to cum, angel,” He mumbled against your open mouth. He threw his head and you felt the spurts of warmth bloom within you. He let his head hang back for a few seconds, catching his breath. He slowly pushed your body back down onto the altar as he stayed buried inside of you, looking down at your fucked out body. His hand glided over your trembling thighs. Leaning down on top of you, he kisses along your collarbone as you continue to shake from your orgasm.
You both stayed in each other's arms panting for a few more minutes, his lips leaving soft kisses along your sweaty skin. He hears you sniffle and he pulls away to see the cause. Your face is tilted back as you stare at the large cross above the both of you as silent tears stream down your face. He only smirks, he won. 
Your arms are still wrapped around him, he takes your left arm and removes it from him, breaking you out of your trance. Gently grabbing your wrist he brings your hand to his mouth and slips your ring finger into his mouth and uses his tongue to aid him in removing the silver purity ring. He holds the once sacred jewelry between his teeth with a cocky grin and spits it out. You cringe hearing the metal clink and bounce off of the marble altar. “You definitely can’t wear that anymore, angel.” 
He rubs his large hands over your thighs and up your stomach. “You don’t belong to God anymore.” He pulls out of you and smiles watching the creamy mess leak out of you and fall onto the sacred altar. You whine loudly when he dips a finger into your sore hole, he scoops a small amount of both of your releases and taps your lips. You open obediently and let him slip the mixture into your mouth. “You belong to me now.”
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Every like/comment/re-blog gives church Heeseung a kiss!
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moonstruckme · 2 days
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Are you going to continue the roomate James series? I’m actually in love with it😍
Yes! Thank you for reading <3
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 804 words
“Honey, I’m home!” 
A smile tugs at your lips, even as you roll your eyes to yourself. James has become more and more fond of these pet names, and of announcing his comings and goings like he’s worried you’ll miss him. (He’s never gone long enough for that, though you might actually miss him if he were.) If you don’t respond in some way or another, he’ll—
“Hey.” He pokes his head through your cracked door. “You alive in here?” 
You pause in folding your laundry to give him a deadpan look. “I could have been in my underwear.” 
He looks mildly horrified. “I’d hope if you were, you’d close the door all the way.” 
“You know, I did manage to stay alive even before you moved in.” 
James leans on your doorframe, giving you the sort of lazy grin you have to pretend doesn’t scare butterflies into flight in your stomach. You really hope that wears off soon. “See, but now I’m convinced if I don’t check on you, you really will die and it’ll be my fault.” 
“How would it be your fault?” 
“Classic case of roommate neglect. I smell the rotting coming from inside your room, the police come, they ask How did you not know your roommate was dead for a month? I reply, Well, officer, she said she could be galavanting in her underwear at any moment. They put me in handcuffs and I spend the next five to fifteen years having Sirius bring me cigarettes I don’t want so that I can trade them for ramen noodles in the yard.” 
You scoff, fighting a smile. “As if you would ever eat ramen.” 
“That’s what I’m saying, sweetheart. You’d be forcing me upon desperate times. But hey,” he raises his hands in a show of surrender, “I didn’t come in here to discuss prison currency. Would it be alright with you if I had friends over tonight?” 
“Of course,” you say, looking back down to match a pair of socks. “You don’t need to ask every time, it’s always alright.” 
“Thanks,” he says warmly, “but it makes me feel better to ask. What do you want on your pizza?” 
You blink. “Me?” 
“Yes, you.” He smiles. Butterflies all over again. “You don’t have to hang out with us to eat it—though we’d love to have you—but I’m not just going to order pizza to your own apartment without having any for you.” 
“It’s your apartment, too,” you remind him. “That’d be a very normal thing to do.” 
“Irregardless.” James waves you off. You wrinkle your nose at the word choice. “What do you want?” 
You swallow a sigh. There are some things, you’ve found, James is nearly impossible to argue with about. If you really dig your heels in, sometimes you can make him move first, but you don’t feel like it right now. 
You do the next best thing you can think of: choosing the least obtrusive option. “Cheese is good with me, thanks.” 
His eyes narrow like he knows what you’re doing, but he says, “Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s here.” 
“Thanks.” You turn your attention back to your laundry. James lingers in the doorway. 
A month ago, you would have kept ignoring him, working on the (unfounded) hope that he’d go away. Now, you look up. 
“Do you think you might come downstairs and hang out?” he asks. He has a strange look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. “You know you’re always invited.” 
You give James a terse sort of smile. He’s not stopped inviting you to do things since the day he moved in. Your open invitation has been made very clear, and you’ve been accepting it more often lately. James is someone who makes it easy to feel close to him. He tosses pet names at you like they’re nothing, comes to check on you when he gets home, pretends he needs to go grocery shopping just because you need a ride to the store. Last week, you’d sat down to watch a movie with him and woken up to a black screen, your cheek smushed into his shoulder and his head resting atop yours. 
Somehow, you’ve let him spill into your life without meaning to, and now you have these childish, crush-like reactions whenever he smiles a certain way or calls you pet names with that familiar bent to his voice. You know you just need time to sort these feelings out. It’d probably be ideal to keep yourself from spilling into his life as much as possible in the meantime. 
But it’s hard to deny James anything when he’s so sweet to you. And he’s nice. His friends seem nice. 
“I might,” you say. 
“I’ll take the win,” James replies, smiling. These butterflies are seriously inconvenient.
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kamiversee · 3 days
Text
˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗
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1 | Something about you
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❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.
❧ Content | flirting, language, suggestiveness, fluff, & faint sexual tension.
❧ Word Count | 7.1k (we're starting off strong it seems...)
❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.
| Chapters mlist |
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——Congratulations, you’ve nearly escaped hell— not-so-happily entering your final year of university as time stands currently. And y’know what, you think you’ve coasted through most of your college years drama-free. Well, aside from freshman year you suppose, everyone fucks up around that time…
But that’s a tale for another day, right now, you’re finding yourself waltzing into an entirely different plotline— with your head held high as you waltz toward a newfound cafe that you haven’t had the pleasure of finding for the past four years. Up until today, you’ve just barely been stomaching dining hall caffeine. Which, to say the least, isn’t nearly as savory or energizing as coffee from your local cafe. 
Four years you’ve been going to this school and yet here you were walking right into an establishment you swear simply spawned out of nowhere because you pass this street all the damn time and you don’t remember this place being here a week ago. Yet, when you enter the cafe and spot a sign that says they’ve been there for the past three years, you begin to realize that maybe you should start going out a bit more…
Nonetheless, you mentally claimed that if the coffee here was bad, you’d walk right out and return to never acknowledging the place. But hey, when you do push past those double doors, fingers wrapped around a warm metal handle, a waft of smoky coffee aromas simmering into your nose, and spot a rather attractive cashier first thing, you’re quick to tell yourself that maybe shitty coffee might be worth a few things.
Especially seeing as six staggering feet of height, fluffy bright white locks of hair, and the most dazzling set of blue eyes take notice of your entering seconds after you’ve stepped inside— how could you not tell yourself that terrible coffee may be worth digesting so long as you get to drink in this tall, fine man whose name you note as Gojo as you near him and read the tag on his apron.
“Suguru, it seems the gods have finally answered my prayers,” Gojo yells back to someone you can’t quite see yet. His eyes were all over you, drinking you in just as you were him. The tall man receives a laugh from somewhere further behind him before he redirects his words to you, “To what do I have the pleasure of serving you today, sweetheart?”
Your lips parted as you approached the counter fully, your eyes lingering on his far longer than they should’ve. “Uh,” And you were making a fool out of yourself already, great, “It’s my first time here, so I’m not too sure…” Okay, that’s a decent enough save considering how your words earn a half smile from the man in front of you who tilts his head and eyes you down.
And fuck if he wasn’t every bit of intimidating looking down at you like that. He places a single hand onto the counter space in front of him, leaning forward just a bit before turning his head back to take a glance at the menu hanging up, as if he didn’t have it memorized already, “Well, for first-timers I usually recommend anything but our coffee.”
You bat your lashes at the man for a moment as he returns his attention to you, “Seriously? That’s the one thing I came in here for…”
“Ah, well,” Gojo clicks his tongue and shrugs a bit, leaning toward you just to whisper, “Y’gotta come here when I’m in the back.”
You lean forward, intrigued by his words, “…Why?”
“Cause’ Suguru doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing,” Gojo chuckles a bit and you reciprocate before pushing your brows together questioningly. “Suguru, my best fr-, my coworker.” He clarifies quickly.
“Ohh,” You nod, “So should I come back another time, or…?”
“Nono, you caught me a few minutes before rush hour,” Gojo says rather cheerfully before he leans away from you and flashes a smile, “I can run back there ‘nd make ya’ somethin’ since we’re not too busy?”
At that, you take a moment to glance around the cafe interior, spotting one, maybe two people sitting on their laptops and languidly sipping or munching away at their breakfast. You’re glad you came in when you did.
Not only did you get the chance to talk to Gojo, who you turn back to seconds later with a nod, but you also got the chance to get not-so-shitty coffee according to the man. “Yeah, actually. That’d be nice,” You hum to him.
Gojo dramatically moves to stretch his arms, clasping his hands together before extending them out with a heavy sigh, as if he were preparing to do such a difficult task. “Alrighty then, is there any specific kinda coffee you’re lookin’ for?”
“Still my first time here, Gojo. So, no…” The way you say his name so suddenly has him wondering if you knew him from somewhere. But, you quickly smile a little and nod your chin to his name tag, to which he looks down and laughs at himself. “Surprise me,” You then say moments later.
“Surprise you?” Gojo echoes.
You shrug sheepishly, “If that’s not too much work for you-“
“No, I don’t mind. I can surprise ya’,” His smile at you deepens and you catch the slightest dip in his cheeks as the most enamoring set of dimples pops out to your gaze. “Buuut, before I do… Do you have any allergies or dislikes I should be wary of?”
You hum, “Uh, no I don’t think so? I’m feeling rather open-minded today so, just bring me something good enough to have me returning for more.”
“Yeah? I mean, I’m sure you’ll come back for somethin’ else aside from jus’ coffee,” Gojo laughs to himself at his own comment and your eyes simply widen, a cute lil’ tilt of your head catching his attention.
You chuckle nervously, “What else would I come back for if not coffee?”
He shrugs before slowly turning away, “Oh, I dunno… Perhaps a certain handsome cashier that’s caught your eye?”
Oh, you see where he’s going with this. It may have been a while but, you know what flirting looks like. “Is this handsome cashier in the room with us, or…?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the way Gojo freezes and he sends you this look that you have to try your hardest not to laugh at.
He nearly pouts, “W-Well, yeah, obviously. You’re lookin’ at him.”
Your brows lift, “Am I?”
Gojo narrows those pretty blue eyes of his at you, “Do you not find me handsome?”
“Say I didn’t,” You murmur tauntingly, “Wouldn’t you be really embarrassed?”
The corner of his lips twitch before he scoffs playfully, “What are you, some kinda masochist?”
You giggle, “No, but seein’ that pout on your face was kinda cute.”
“Pout?” Gojo gasps dramatically, “Hah, what pout?” He scoffs again before straightening his face and attempting to be serious with you, “I didn’t pout-“
“You totally did,” You cut off, peering right into those mesmerizing eyes of his— damn, it was almost like you couldn’t get yourself to look away.
“I did not,” Gojo corrects your statement, lower lip poking out once more into a pout.
You shrug and finally get yourself to glance off to the side, “It was cute.”
He instantly tilts his head at that, ears perking up, “Y’think I’m cute?”
“I do.” You hum simply with your eyes wandering right back over to his face.
There’s this little moment between the two of you, a spark if you will, where you both just meet one another’s eyes and admire each other. Is this what mutual attraction feels like?
Perhaps if you squinted, you would’ve noticed the faintest shade of pink decorating his cheeks, “I-,” Gojo swallows suddenly, “Why thank you, sweetheart,” He utters suavely, as if to save himself from embarrassment. After which, he clears his throat, “That aside, we’ve got about six minutes before people start rushin’ in here ‘nd it’ll take two for me to prepare that coffee of yours so, do you mind givin’ me a name?”
You blink, “A name…?”
“Your name,” Gojo clarifies.
“Oh! Sorry,” You’re quick to apologize for your moment of daze, giving him your name seconds later to make up for it.
He starts to smile again, “That’s your name?”
“Yes?” You utter almost confusedly. Was there something wrong-
“It’s pretty,” Gojo interrupts your thoughts completely and your eyes go all wide all over again, a small feature in which he finds absolutely adorable.
“T-Thank you,” You stammer out, turning away to now avoid the eye contact you once couldn’t tear yourself away from.
“Uhuh,” His eyes scan you up and down once more before he sighs, “I’ll be back in a sec’, sweets,” Gojo says finally.
God, you think the nickname he threw out has your heart racing because it made your face so utterly hot. Almost as if you don’t hear nicknames like that on a daily basis…
Aside from that, you gave Gojo one last nod before looking back over your shoulder to see if anyone was coming yet. He’d told you that there was only a few minutes until rush hour so you were a bit wary that people would appear out of nowhere in the next-
“So you’re the girl that’s got Satoru all giggly, huh?” A voice purrs from somewhere in front of you.
Quickly, you return your gaze forward and spot a man, equally as tall as Gojo, with long dark hair, slim eyes, and a really pretty face— holy shit, how many hot guys work here??
“Uh,” You’re stuttering again, tipping your head to the side, “…Satoru?” You repeat, confused by the person he’s referring to.
The man chuckles, “Gojo,” He tells you, “Satoru Gojo,” You nod at the clarification and he grins warmly.
“Oh, then yeah I guess so,” You shrug sheepishly before flashing a smile, “So then that means you must be Suguru-“
“Geto,” He’s so quick to correct you that you almost immediately shut up, swallowing down your words as if you’d said something wrong. “Sorry, I assume Satoru told you my first name?”
You steadily nod, avoiding eye contact with him out of embarrassment, “He did…”
“As expected,” Geto hums before letting out a long sigh, “Just call me by me last, I don’t know you too well so I’m sure you understand.”
You hum, “Right, sorry.”
It’s a tad bit awkward for the next few seconds after that mild conversation but when you hear Gojo yelling from somewhere in the back, the awkwardness quickly subsides.
You even spot Gojo popping his head out from around the corner just to speak to his coworker, “Suguru don’t scare her off jus’ cause you have a girlfriend-“
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Geto interrupts, sharp with his correction as he glances back over his shoulder.
Gojo snorts, “Fine then, girl who’s a friend that you like-“
“I don't-,” A sigh leaves Geto’s lips before he’s moving to pinch the bridge of his nose, groaning afterward, “Just hurry up with the damn coffee before people start comin’ in.”
Your eyes somehow find Gojo’s and you watch him mouth out something to you, “He’s grouchy because his girlfriend’s ignorin’ him-“
“Satoru,” Geto says scoldingly, causing Gojo to flinch dramatically.
Then you see the white-haired man laugh before winking at you and dipping back around the corner. After which, you don’t even realize you’re smiling until you meet Geto’s gaze and feel your expression drop at the glare he’s giving you.
“What?” You murmur warrily, raising a brow at his plain look.
Geto tilts his head and studies your face for a mere moment, “You new around here or somethin’?”
“New to this cafe, yeah,” You explain, “Why?”
He shrugs, “I’ve learned most of our customer’s faces and majority of them live around the area but I’ve never seen you before.”
“I live not too far from campus but I wasn’t aware this cafe was here until today…” You explain steadily, earning somewhat of an intrigued expression from the man.
“Damn, really?”
You nod, “Mhm.”
“So, wait,” Geto scoffs a little at the thought, “Don’t tell me you’ve been stomaching dining hall caffeine all this time.”
You chuckle and glance off to the side, “Well…”
“If you live near campus, how the hell are you just now finding us??” Geto questions, he seems genuinely confused by your cluelessness.
Your shoulders lift into a shrug, “I don’t go out much.”
“Maybe you should,” He tells you.
A thin lipped smile tugs at your lips, “Starting to realize that now, thanks.”
The man opens his mouth to say something but he’s cut off by Gojo returning from the back and placing a hand on his shoulder, to which Geto glances down at.
“Alrighty Suguru, thanks for not scaring the pretty lady away!” Gojo says cheerfully as he pushes past his friend and makes eye contact with you.
Geto’s brows push together, “You’re welcome? I don’t know how I would’ve scared her, I-“
Gojo unintentionally cuts him off with a laugh, “You’ve been kinda grouchy towards women ever since you met-“
“Fuck off,” He grumbles, brushing off Gojo’s hand on his shoulder and turning to make his way to the back once more.
“See what I mean?” Gojo hums to himself.
Then Geto laughs, “You’re not a woman are you?”
“Suguruuu,” Gojo whines, turning his head back to his friend who’s already disappeared from his line of vision. Then, Gojo sighs and looks to you again, “Ah whatever, ignore him, he sucks sometimes.”
You grin, “You guys are best friends, aren’t you?”
The way Gojo tilts his head almost innocently is kinda cute, “How can you tell?”
“Mine acts similarly,” You explain, thinking of your best friend who’s not the nicest person in the world.
“Yeah?” Gojo hums, “An asshole once they get into a relationship?”
“I’m not in a relationship, Satoru!” Geto calls out from the back.
You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes at his friend's refutation of his claims. Looking somewhat off to the side, your thoughts wander more so toward your best friend, “Well, no, he’s kinda just an asshole all around.”
“Really? Why’re you his best friend then?” You’ve always found this question funny considering most people are confused about how you and your best friend are even friends when most times you two don’t get along.
Instead of really answering Gojo’s question, you look up at him and smile, “I could ask you the same thing, no?”
His brows furrow and he scoffs, “What? No, Suguru’s just grouchy today, I promise he’s usually better than that.”
You nod, “I see…”
“Anyway,” Gojo extends his hand out to you, “Here, give this a try,” He offers, handing a decently sized cold drink to you.
You receive the item and look down at it, “You’re not trying to poison me right?”
Gojo laughs, “Aaand why ever would I do that?”
The cup is steadily lifted to your lips as you lift your eyes to him once more, “I dunno, men are weird.”
“That they are,” He chuckles, “But no, that’d be illegal and I have no intentions of harming you.”
Again, you just nod at that and then take that first sip of the surprise drink he’d given you. A strong taste of vanilla and a nearly overwhelming amount of coffee creamer hits your tastebuds. You smile but you’re a bit taken back by how sweet it is. One, it’s way better than any cup of coffee you’ve ever had from the dining hall and two, it’s a lot sweeter than you were expecting.
“Holy fuck, how much sugar did you put in this thing?” You utter in surprise as you move the cup away from your mouth and glance at it as if that’ll give you the answer to your question.
Gojo lets out a laugh, “You said to surprise you.”
“Yeah but this is sweet as hell,” You tell him, your eyes raking over the cup in your hand.
“Sweet drink for a sweet girl, I don’t see a problem,” He responds with a little lean toward you.
“Right and-,” You scoff, eyes narrowing at the very lousy print of your name on the cup, “Who’s…” You almost laugh, “Christ, your handwriting is shit.”
Gojo lets out a huff, “Okay, first off, my handwriting is not that bad. And secondly-”
You’re quick to turn the cup to him and lift it, “Look at it!”
“Oh.” He squints his eyes at it, “Shit, that is kinda bad…” Gojo mumbles with an amused little smile on his face.
“Yeah, I can’t even read this…” You laugh, returning the cup to yourself, “But that’s okay, I appreciate the effort,” His smile grows at your comforting words as you then look up at him once more, “How much?”
“Since my handwriting’s so shit,” He starts, tilting his head at you and shrugging, “Consider it on the house.”
Your eyes seem to light up, “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” Gojo hums.
“Aw, thank you,” Who would you be to ever pass up something free? Especially given by this cheeky cashier before you.
“Anytime-”
Geto’s voice intrudes from the back, “Satoru I thought I told you to change these filters? And why’d you leave such a big mess, holy shit.”
Gojo yells back to his coworker, slightly looking over his shoulder, “The mess isn’t that bad is it?”
You snort, “If it’s anything like your handwriting then uh…”
“Alright,” Gojo’s quick to look at you once more, “You just got a free drink out of me so I don’t wanna hear anything from you.”
“Satoru, these filters aren’t gonna change themselves,” Geto nags further.
You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes and yells back to his friend yet again, “You’re literally back there already, change them yourself.”
“Nope, it’s your turn,” Geto argues.
Gojo frowns, “But-”
“The girl’s not goin’ anywhere anytime soon,” At that, you blink in surprise. How does he know you’re not ready to leave just yet? “Get your ass back here,” Geto orders.
Gojo turns his head and looks at you almost pleadingly.
You giggle, “What? Sounds like you’ve got some filters to change, Gojo…”
“Y’know what,” He scoffs and nods his chin to the cup in your hand, “$5.45.”
Your head cocks back a little and your brows go up, “I’m sorry?”
“The drink,” Gojo hums simply, looking back to make sure Geto wasn’t on his way out to scold him some more just yet, “Since you wanna take his side over mine…”
The way you frown misses Gojo’s eyes up until he turns to look at you one last time, his eyes going wide as you try to defend yourself, “I wasn’t-”
“S’fine, I got it,” An entirely different voice grumbles from your right, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. So close to you, an arm slips right past your face and you watch as an all too familiar man extends a card out to Gojo.
Your lashes bat a few times as an annoyingly familiar scent of cologne rushes into your nose. You’d literally just escaped said smell a few hours ago after leaving your apartment and yet here it was all over again, directly in your nose and you met the side profile of your best friend, “Choso?” You utter.
Whatever light and fluffy banter that was in the air seconds ago seems to die at the mere presence of Choso standing so closely beside you. Ignoring you, he urges Gojo to take his card and Gojo soon does so with a scoff— he was going to keep flirting and teasing you but here comes this all-too-serious-looking man taking your vacant side as if it were second nature.
The smile Gojo once had on his face simmered down and his expression became a lot more neutral as he quietly moved to charge Choso’s card.
After which, your best friend finally looks down at you, his eyes pointed in a glare that would make anyone feel unloved despite you knowing he feels quite the opposite (to some extent at least), “Don’t you have class in an hour?” Choso asks you in a dull monotone.
Your face scrunches up slightly before you shrug, “I was thirsty…”
Choso stares at you for a long moment, glances at Gojo, then back to you with a scoff, “Yeah, clearly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean-,” You’re cut off by Choso taking his eyes off of you and receiving his card back from Gojo, the two men making eye contact once more and both looking as if the other had done something to offend them. Your best friend openly scoffs in Gojo’s face before pocketing his card and turning away, quickly walking out of the establishment.
Your eyes go wide, “Choso, wait!” You call out as your eyes followed him walking away from you. Only to be ignored again, you let out a huff and start to walk after him but turn back to Gojo one last time, “Sorry about him.”
Gojo’s expression seems to light back up a bit and he shrugs, “You’re fine.”
You nod and start turning away before remembering something and looking at Gojo yet again, slightly pointing at him, “You owe me a free drink by the way,” You remind him playfully.
His face is twisting right back up into that intrigued expression from earlier, “Do I now? And what for?”
“Your shitty handwriting of course,” You hum.
"Hm," He takes a second to think before letting out a slight huff. You then feel and watch the way his eyes glide up and down your body before he responds to you, "Alright."
And with that, both of you smile at one another one last time before you go running off to catch up with Choso. Gojo watches you almost in some kinda trance as you leave, spotting more customers approaching but ignoring them for the most part as his gaze remains glued to you until you’re completely out of his line of vision.
Then, he lets out this breathy little sigh, “Fuck…” Moving to wipe his face off as if that’ll rid himself of whatever the hell he’s feeling after talking to you. 
He didn’t even get to ask you for your number like he wanted to…
With perfect timing, “Satoru, the-”
“Filters, yeah yeah, I got it,” Gojo cuts Geto off completely, turning around to see his friend emerging from the back as they both swap places due to the approaching rush hour.
· · ─────── · ꨄ · ─────── · ·
Outside, you were met with a slap of heat as soon as you exited the cafe, your eyes searching the area for Choso. A slight breeze of refreshing wind brushes over your skin as you finally spot the man having not gotten too far away.
Barely managing to catch up to him, you nudge Choso on his arm as soon as you meet his side, “Why’d you pay for my drink? I could’ve done that myself.”
Just as he did earlier inside the cafe, he acts as though you’re not even there, keeping his gaze forward and pretending he didn’t hear a single thing you just said.
“Choso? Hello??” You huff out, nudging him on his arm again.
His lip twitches into a scowl and he just barely side-eyes you, “What?”
You ignore all of his attitude, as you typically do, “Why’d you pay?”
“You’re a walking charity case,” Choso hums all too casually.
Your head goes back and you scoff, “I-, what? No, I’m not!” Then the back of your hand is landing on his arm as you hit him and he almost smiles.
Finding amusement in your reaction, he shrugs, “Yeah you are,” And before you can even try to get a response out, the cup of coffee in your hand is stripped from your grasp faster than you could blink. Choso removes the top and takes a sip, “Ew, you like this shit?” He scowls, placing the top right back on and handing you your drink back.
You blink, struggling to process a logical reasoning behind his action, “First off, no one told your ass to take a sip. And secondly-”
“I wanted to know what you got,” Choso cuts off, glancing at you to watch how quickly you get annoyed by him.
You groan, “You could’ve asked if that was the case.” He shrugs your words off and you roll your eyes at him, “And how the hell did you know I was in there anyway?”
“I didn’t,” Choso tells you, “I always go in there but today I happened to see your short ass at the counter when I walked in.”
You’re quick to shoot him a glare, “Stop that, I’m not short.”
He’s got this arrogant little grin on his face, “Look short t’me.”
“That’s because you’re taller than me, which doesn’t make you tall in general nor does it make me short.” You explain to the man simply with your eyes shooting daggers into the side of his face.
Choso continues to act as though you’re not even looking at him, “Being shorter than me makes you short-”
“And y’know what,” You cut off, tearing your eyes off of your overly bothersome friend, “You’re annoying.”
He cocks his head back, “Annoying? I’m annoying?” Finally, he looks at you, now searching the side of your face for answers.
“Yeah, very.” You hum.
Choso scoffs and then sizes you up and down, “Says the one who was gawkin’ over Gojo Satoru of all people.”
You nearly laugh, “Fucks’ that supposed to mean? How would that make me annoying?”
“He’s a weirdo,” Choso shrugs, pocketing his hands as he faces forward once more, “I can’t understand what you could possibly find attractive about him.”
You blink and both of you slow down in the pace of your steps, “I talked to him for less than ten minutes, how was I supposed to know he’s weird. And wait-, how does me finding him attractive even annoy you?”
Your best friend sighs and his words come out all too casually for them to be so offensive, “Cause when he breaks your heart,” Choso looks at you, “You’ll come bitchin’ to me about it.”
At that, you freeze, quickly turning to meet his gaze, “Who says he’ll break my heart? And bitching? Is that what you call me talking to you about my relationship issues?? Bitching? Seriously?” With your eyes narrowed and brows tightly knit together, Choso should’ve sensed that he struck a nerve there.
Yet, he seems to not care in the slightest, blinking as if he’d said nothing wrong, “Fuck else am I supposed to call it? I warn you about every guy you date but you don’t ever listen to me.”
Your face twists up, “That doesn’t make my complaints ‘bitching’…”
“Well, it makes it fucking annoying,” He hums before pulling his lips into a thin smile— mocking you through facial expressions.
Your brows go up, “Really? Okay then, sorry for ever confiding in you,” You set your eyes straight once more, “I’ll just go find someone else to-”
“You know no one else is gonna put up with your shit the same way I do,” He’s so quick to dismiss your little statement, almost as if the implication of you ever leaving him, in a sense, bothered him.
You scoff matter-of-factly, “That’s not true.”
“It literally is though,” Choso deadpans, “You have one friend and that’s me. Who the hell else are you gonna go rant to, hm?”
“Someone that doesn’t call my rants bitching.” You huff, crossing your arms over one another.
Choso scales his eyes down to your arms and he smiles, “Are you seriously mad about that?”
“Maybe,” You shrug.
His feet come to a stop and you follow suit, turning to avoid his eyes as much as possible. Choso stares at you for a moment before leaning toward you, tilting his head and angling his lips toward your ear.
All of which done so he could whisper to you, “M’sorry, princess,” Choso murmurs to you affectionately, “Y’know I didn’t mean that seriously, I’m jus’ fuckin’ with you.”
You remain unphased for a mere moment more before the constant brush of his breath against your skin makes you shudder, your hands moving to his chest to push him away, “Yeah, whatever… And stop calling me that.”
Choso blinks, feeling confused since you act as if he hadn’t been calling you such a thing for years, “Why?”
“Cause I don’t like it…” You so clearly lie— not that you enjoyed the nickname but more so that you’ve always felt indifferent to it. Or, almost always.
He smirks, “Your face is telling me an entirely different story.”
“Yeah?” You chuckle, moving to shoot your middle finger at him, “And what story does this tell you?’
Choso stares into your eyes for a long period of time before looking to your finger, smiling fully and tilting his head again, “…You wanna fuck me?”
Immediately putting your finger down, your brows tense, “What? No!” You exclaim, groaning as you return to your walking, “God, I cannot stand you.”
He laughs and follows right alongside you, “You’re so easy to annoy, holy shit.”
“And you’re insufferable,” You huff.
Choso shrugs simply, “You love me though.”
You glance at him, “Debatable.”
He pouts and pretends to clutch his heart, “Ouch-”
“Anyway,” Returning your attention to someone much less annoying than the man beside you, you nod your head back toward the cafe, “Do you know if he’s single?”
Choso nearly trips over his steps at the sound of that, letting out a cough, “Who-, Gojo??”
You nod, “Mhm.”
“Why?” Choso’s lips twitch, “You lookin’ to get rejected?”
Pausing, you look to him with a quirked brow, “Excuse me? What makes you think I’ll get rejected?”
“You’re uh…” He trails off a little, eyes lingering down your frame before he smiles and speaks to you in this faux gentle whisper, “Not his type, sweetie.”
Your eyes roll at that, “Okay, first of all, fuck you. Secondly, how do you know?”
“Uh, I’ve seen the kinda girls he’s into so trust me when I say…” Choso’s eyes shift to peer directly into yours, “It ain’t you.”
You stare back for a moment before shaking your head and looking off, “Whatever, you’re just saying that.”
“Yeah because I’m gonna lie to you about something like that,” He snickers to himself before rolling his eyes. Within seconds, he goes to look at you again only to see you heading in a different direction, “Hey! Where’re you goin’?”
“Away from you!” You call back.
He laughs yet again, “What, you can’t handle the truth now?”
Glancing back to him, “I’m gonna prove you wrong asshole.”
Choso flashes you a shit-eating grin as if he’s already begun praying on your downfall, “Sure you will.”
He then watches as you further away from him, his smile steadily fading as he catches himself a bit too happy at the sight of you so determined. Choso shrugs off whatever feeling the topic of Gojo Satoru had brought up within him, dismissing the entire thing as he truly believed you’d never really get yourself too involved with that guy.
Unfortunately for him, he didn’t see the way you were taking to Gojo before he walked in so, Choso had no idea of how things were about to play out within the next few hours.
· · ─────── · ꨄ · ─────── · ·
As such, after that morning class of yours that extended decently into the afternoon, you found yourself rushing back to the cafe as soon as you could.
You knew not of Gojo’s working hours so you had no clue whether or not he’d still be there but you sure as hell hoped so. Choso had really ticked you off with his claims.
You not being Gojo’s type? Yeah right, he didn’t see the way that cashier was looking at you, nor did he hear all the banter that took place. Given that, you were determined to prove your dear friend wrong and yourself right. You know flirting when you see it and that’s exactly what Gojo was doing.
So to say he wasn’t at least intrigued by you would be a blatant lie you had every hope on exposing to Choso.
When you finally find yourself entering that lovely little cafe, it’s a lot more busy in comparison to earlier— something you take note of for your possible future visits. The line wasn’t exactly too long but quite a few people were hanging out or studying throughout the establishment.
That aside, your eyes were quick to search for a certain white-haired barista, gaze lighting up the very second it meets the man it questions. 
Gojo had a weary smile on his face as he handed some girl a coffee and you could tell based on his eyes alone that he was tired of the chick rambling to him. He nodded and nodded, trying to keep himself appearing entertained by whatever she was saying but when he glances over and spots you, all his attention is diverted.
Those pretty blue eyes of his fixate on you and you watch as he finally dismisses the girl, nodding toward you as if to say he had another customer to tend to. She shrugs and finally leaves, to which you take place in standing where she’d been seconds ago, sending a smile to Gojo.
“Long day?” You suggest with a slight tilt of your head, to which he nods.
“You have no idea,” Gojo sighs out to you, “You’re back sooner than I expected though.”
He didn’t know what it was about you, perhaps the way you gaze at him, but there was something that kept his eyes lingering on yours far longer than normal— something that genuinely lulled him in. Perhaps it was the natural flow of conversation and how even from earlier, you didn’t really feel like a mere customer but instead just a person, a woman at that-, a very pretty woman, might he add.
“You owe me a free drink, remember?” You remind him, earning a different reaction than expected.
Gojo pauses, “Ohh… About that…” He hums, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah see, that offer no longer stands…”
You blink, “I’m not sure I understand…”
He lets out a sigh, then moves to lean forward against the counter, bending down and crossing his arms as he rests on his elbows and comes much closer to your eye level, “Another cute girl came in ‘nd got it before you,” Gojo whispers.
You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not and your brows pinch together, “Seriously?”
“Mmhmm,” He hums tauntingly with this smug look on his face as if to say giving away your promised drink was to get back at you for something.
“Well,” You click your tongue, “I think you owe me a free drink now more than before, maybe two.”
Gojo smiles, feeling amused, “Yeah? I mean, my number’s free. Y’want that instead?”
Your voice gets caught in your throat at how ridiculously smooth that was, trying your hardest not to give in and return a smile. “I… What am I supposed to do with that?” You end up asking.
He snickers, “Perhaps text me? Or call? Y’know, the thing you do with phones-“
“Alright smart ass,” You scoff playfully, grinning as you move to pull out your phone, “What’s your number then?”
Gojo smiles triumphantly and extends his hand out, “Here, lemme put it in for ya’.”
You glance at him, eyes meeting and yet another moment passing before you hand him your phone, to which he takes a second to look down at the device in his hands. Then, he enters his number and a contact name for himself.
After which, your cell is quickly returned to you and you look to see what he’s put in. Studying the name closely, you tilt your head, “Satoru?”
“Mhm, tha’s me, sweetheart,” He purrs, moving to rest his cheek against his knuckles.
You look up from your phone, “You want me to call you Satoru?”
Gojo shrugs, “If you don’t mind, yeah.”
“We’re on a first-name basis already?” You tease, eyes narrowing at the man.
“It seems we are,” He utters. His voice was a bit lower with you now, much more casual and playful. “That alright with you, pretty girl?”
Unknowingly, your face flushes, “Yeah, that’s uh, that’s fine.”
Gojo lets out a hum, “Good.” Then, the two of you do that thing yet again, peering into one another's eyes, unmoving, nearly frozen and dazed for a moment longer than intended before Gojo snaps out of it by almost awkwardly clearing his throat, “So uh, you still want that free drink or…?”
You blink out of your own stupor and shake your head, “No, I’ll come back for it tomorrow.”
“Oh?” His brows shoot up in surprise, “You’re coming back tomorrow?”
“It seems I am, yes,” A smile graces your face and he can’t help but stare.
Gojo mirrors your expression, “Just for coffee?”
Your eyes wander off to the side cheekily, “Perhaps for a certain handsome cashier too…”
He thinks his heart is fluttering. Is this normal? To experience such a genuine infatuation with a woman’s words within less than twenty-four hours? It was unusual for Gojo, that’s for damn sure. Hence why his head is tipping to the side, “Really? Have my charms worked so soon?” He teases.
You return your gaze to him, “Just a little, yeah.”
Mesmerized by you, Gojo nods, “Good to know.”
“Mhm,” After a slight hum, you glance down at your phone and check the time, “Well uh, I actually have another class so I should probably go.”
“Yes… Yes, you should,” He voices out slowly, again entangled into that daze of his until you lift your head once more, “But uh, make sure you text me later, yeah?” Gojo reminds you.
To which you chuckle and start turning away toward the exit, “No promises.”
He’s left in a mere awe of you, not even knowing what to say, and left utterly speechless from such an intriguing yet simple conversation with you. As you wave bye, Gojo had to feel for his heart the very second you leave just to see if it was working correctly because he’s not sure what the hell that was just now.
Whatever it may have been, he knows it was much more genuine and raw than what he’s typically used to. And it came so naturally too, the banter, the gazes, the flirting… Gojo was longing for more already and he’d only just met you a few hours ago.
· · ─────── · ꨄ · ─────── · ·
All the while you’re just as cheerful at the interaction you just had, beyond ready to brag to your doubtful best friend of your most recent accomplishments.
Which is exactly why you’re facetiming said friend as soon as you leave the cafe. The call rings for less than a second before it’s answered and you’re met with a visibly displayed and… shirtless Choso.
Before you get the chance to even try and take in his naked torso, he’s already scowling at you, “The fuck are you facetiming me for?” He grumbles, taking the smile right off of your lips, “I’ve seen your face enough for one day. Why don’t you ever call like a normal person??”
You bat your eyelashes at the man, “Cho, we just got on the phone and you’re already souring the mood…”
He ignores your complaint, “What do you want?”
Steadily, your smile returns, “Guess who got a certain someone’s number,” You utter cheerfully, voice light in a little sing-song tone.
Choso gives his phone a blank stare, not saying a single word in response to that.
Which confused you, “Well? Are you gonna guess-“
“You could’ve texted me this shit,” He cuts off before you watch as your screen is soon met with the ceiling as he places his phone down.
You pout, “Well, yeah but then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction…”
He scoffs and pops his face into the camera for a second, eyes dull, smile nonexistent, eye bags heavy, and tattoo running across his nose the only thing giving some form of expression despite it being nothing more than a dark black line. “Does it look like I give two shits about you gettin’ some asshole’s number?”
You let out a long sigh, “Remind me why we’re friends again?”
And that’s when Choso seems to smirk, “Cause’ you won’t leave me alone.”
“I’m hanging up,” You groan.
His laughter, albeit somewhat of a rare sound, fills your ears, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”
You send him a look, “Are you?”
“Mhm, good job on gettin’ his number, princess,” Choso coos, making your eyes widen, “I’m proud of you.”
Your mouth opens to say something to that but your throat runs oddly dry. Instead, you gulp down his sudden praise and ignore how warm his words make you feel. “…Thank you.” You eventually say.
“Uhuh,” Choso nods before removing himself from the camera again, “Pretty sure he’s just trying to fuck though.” He says bluntly.
Instead of choking like he expected you to, you only scoff, “Fine by me.”
Your best friend is quiet for a moment, feeling almost silenced before he sighs, “Oh… But you told me no-“
“That was entirely different, Choso.” You cut off.
He shuts up again.
“You were drunk, and…” Your voice dies out.
To which he raises a brow at his phone, “And what?”
“And things were different back then,” You sigh, trying not to recall the entirety of your past with Choso at the present moment, “…You were an even bigger asshole, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Choso sighs, moving to dismiss the topic, “Anyway, let me know how things go with your new albino boyfriend.”
You scoff, smiling at the suggestion itself, “He’s not even my-“ 
The call disconnects. Oh how you just love your best friend and his antics. You wouldn’t trade your friendship with him for anything.
Or at least, that’s what you told yourself anyway. What exactly does a new man in your life bring if not drama? This right here was but the beginning of a very interesting journey toward such a fickle emotion we know as; love.
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